She looked up at the night sky to see the stars. They shone brightly against the moonless expanse above her. She blinked and turned her eyes to the horizon. She could almost see the outlines of a city.
She had left her white steed in the care of her companions after it was wounded in the last battle, one that had taken much of their energies and had pushed them to seek the inner sanctums built by the great elders in the mountains. They had stayed there for a period of time and tried to pass on the songs of their journeys to each other and to those who were willing to listen as they recuperated from the deep wounds when their Motherland fell. The white steed, decked in nobility its own race was known for, chose to stay in the inner sanctums and bid its farewell to her the morning she left for her next voyage. Some chose to stay in the mountains. They settled in small villages as they tried to remember the glory of Mu. Some decided to continue their journeys to find new places to settle. Some were drawn to find others whom they have left behind to answer the Clarion Call. For Wa Su Nah, she felt she needed to journey to another great land. To her understanding, her task was done and she was free to receive what is due to her by the Great Spirit. She was called to go North, to walk by foot as necessary, and take only what is needed in her personal migration.
Now, she was on her journey to find the City of Refuge, to find those who survived the Great Upheaval. Her process of healing was drawing to a close. It was time to find a new home for her to live out the rest of her days, and to put behind her undertakings as a warrior of Motherland Mu. She has fulfilled the sacred covenant, and in peace she will try and find those who can continue the next journey with her. Until she is called again, until such a time she hears the Great Goddess summoning for her again.
One more step, she pushed herself.
As if to encourage her, a soft breeze gently touched her face. She stopped, almost as if she was splashed with cold water in the middle of the night.
She raised her nose, allowing the smell to fill her senses. A familiar scent. She closed her eyes and took in more air.
"This scent." Her heart pounded as if it wanted to burst through her chest. "His scent."
Her eyes darted straight to where the tiny lights beckoned to her.
How many years has it been? How long have they been apart?
The wind, her faithful messenger, had now brought to her a familiar scent. One that smelled of home. Her home.
"He is here," it said.
With effort, she took more steps towards the city. Her body almost shaking as she calmed herself and focused on releasing the tension from her aching legs. She had been directed to the right place.
She felt her heart swell, and she felt a force flowing up from the earth through her body, a renewed strength.
She knew his scent. She knew it so intimately, and now she is breathing it again. She remembered how it felt to be against his skin, remembered how strong his arms were, and how warm and deep the kisses they shared.
Her exhaustion from this journey to the City of Refuge left her. It did not seem too long and too arduous now.
"He is here." She whispered.
She took another step, pushed her body up the small hill and raised her head to see how much farther she needed to go.
She stopped as she saw an outline of a tall man waiting.
For once, everything was still. Under the stars, under the sky waiting for a new moon to appear, the recognition was undeniable.
"Wa Su Nah." It was his voice.
Not even her tears dared to fall.
Her lips parted but only a short, quiet sigh escaped from them.
She felt a smile form. She closed her eyes, took in a long breath, and saw...
Their parting, his buried tears, his confusion, his battles, the pain and the injuries inflicted upon him. She felt all of them. She felt his anguish and his fears. She saw the many battles he fought and what it took to overcome them.
She breathed out, still with her eyes closed, and saw...
His hands reaching up to the sky on a clear day, and his searching eyes on the nights he read the stars and wandered aimlessly with many moons passing. She felt his strength and his courage, and the hope he carried with him. She saw his spirit, bright and beautiful, as it has always been. She felt his tenderness as he cared for those who sought his help, his fervency as he fought to save others. She saw him in his pure, glorious form, and her whole being felt at peace.
She opened her eyes, bringing herself back to where she was - on the hill, by the City of Refuge with the man she loves waiting for her.
He started to walk towards her.
"Wa Su Nah." He called her name again.
She smiled as he came to her. She held out her arms to reach for him - a warrior like she was and is, her warrior.
After breakfast, I took my coffee out on the deck and decided to do my French homework outside. This week, I realized that my body is still adjusting to the kind of weather we have here in Canada as I struggled to fight off a fever.
The drastic changes of temperature and conditions daily, and by that I mean, DAILY, reminded me to slow down and give myself some time (and Buckley's) to get accustomed to what Canadians call "spring": cloudy and warm last Saturday, sunny but cool Sunday, rainy but warm Monday, cloudy and chilly Tuesday, sunny and humid Wednesday, really chilly and a little rainy Thursday, super hot Friday. Freakin' forecasts usually don't help. Bring a sweater, and if you're conscious of catching a cold because of the sudden drizzles or getting sunburned (because sunburns aren't fun), bring an umbrella too. I told my co-workers, "You have crazy weather here in Ottawa!" They all replied, "That's how it is!" At least in the Philippines, I said, it's steadily hot most of the time. We just need to learn to "weather the storm" literally, especially now that the typhoons have become more frequent and extreme.
Half of my seedlings did not make it, sadly. And unfortunately for the three blueberry shrubs my roommate gave me to (trans)plant in a pot, they're dead a day after I had happily placed them on our backyard. I'm still finding the courage to pull them out and replace them. I told him last week, upset that I was, "I killed the blueberries." To which he replied, "You didn't kill them. They just... died. It happens." He reminded me we still had more in front of my room. I just had to make sure I can harvest some before random strangers pick the berries all off when it's time. The grape vine is slowly returning too, and the mint in our sideyard is dense. I could get some mint to grow indoors for the winter for my tea. But now I'm looking at them as aid for insect bites (Dang, Canada! Your bugs are eating me alive!!!).
I look at roommie's little beds of seedlings, and they look all happy. It won't be long until we get the garden going. For now, he's helping his girlfriend put up raised (and fenced) garden beds at her place. Rabbits and squirrels freely roam around. It could get nasty, and I was like, "Rabbits? You have wild rabbits?" "Oh yeah," he said. "You'd probably see them in the backyard when it's harvest time." I was excited with the idea of seeing undomesticated rabbits eating our veggies before we could pick them. He found my reaction funny. His girlfriend and I agree, he knows more about planting and growing stuff than we both do. He shared he's been trying to teach her, but she goes ahead and does what she wants anyway and ends up with dead seedlings before the middle of spring. I laughed and made a mental note to wait for him to decide where to place the young sprouts we have in our backyard, especially after what happened to my blueberries. He came in this morning measuring the kitchen. I think he's now thinking of replacing some of the fixtures there. I'm left to wonder if he's made up his mind about selling the house.
Last Thursday, my ECE program supervisor visited me at my placement site. I told her about the short talk I had with my Program Coordinator in the daycare, and how everyone has been giving positive feedback about my performance. My PC said they could have me on their list of Supply Educators, because they'd like to have me continue with them. Over the past two weeks, they have actually decided to keep me as part of the ratio when necessary even though I was not a permanent staff, and I now find myself leading one room with 8 preschool kids (usually with the wildest ones). Parents are now asking me how their children did during the day too. It's probably because I've been integrated to the program already. I told my supervisor that the OCT has sent me an e-mail saying there would be an update later this month about my application for a teaching certificate, and I, truthfully, would want to be more informed where I would go after the program ends. Do I take more courses in Algonquin? Will my placement site really hire me as supply educator while I work on my license? Would that be enough to sustain my life here in Ottawa? Would my placement site have a permanent job for me later on? My supervisor said, "We are hoping you'd stay."
"I'm happy here," I told my sister-in-law the other night. So far.
"Yun yung sasabihin ko," she said. "If masaya ka, everything will work out."
On our way home from our job shadowing day yesterday, my Haitian friend Marie opened up more about her goals. "I want to work and save. Because I want to buy property of my own and one day own my daycare. My own daycare!"
I was too delighted to respond to her, and could only come up with two words. "Me too! Me too!"
I'm getting baked this morning...
On a deck in the backyard of a house bought by my roommate a couple of years ago. He's 32. He got this house for over $400k. He was supposed to build a life with his ex here until the relationship spiralled down, and he was left with a dead bird, her precious pet, in a freezer because she refused - or was unable - to face the monsters she needed to deal with in spite of his attempts to reach her and help. The dead bird is long gone now, and he's building a little sanctuary for plants he wants to nurture with his new partner.
I look at his seedlings on our deck now, and I realize, they aren't going stay where he first planted them. We need to transfer them somewhere where they would really grow and thrive, and be, hopefully, productive during the rest of the season and the next.
"I want to get my certificate," I told Marie. "Because if I get that, I can go anywhere." She was nodding her head. "If I get my teaching license here in Ontario too, I can have that assessed in any province I want to move to, and it would be easier to transfer using Canadian standards. At least, that is what I think." I already have the experience. I just needed the documents. And when I get the documents, I'd only need a safe site and enough financial resources to put up my own daycare. Will I ever do it? Heh. Who knows? But I'd love to try.
For now, I'm just enjoying the sun and the cool breeze in our backyard. Life is good, and I'm blessed. And I'm happy. And that's enough for me right now.
* In gratitude to my family (and friends!) who have always been supportive of me.
After several months of medication, dieting and care, Zhaiden's doctor has said he didn't need his alopecia medicine anymore. His hair has grown back and he is now taking swimming classes.
These photos were taken right after he woke up. He is wearing the new Spiderman swimsuit bought by his Lola Cecille.
I started my application for the Ontario College of Teachers on October 17, 2017. I completed the requirements around March 2018 after WES Credentialing Services in Toronto forwarded my transcripts and their Canadian equivalency to the College.
In April, an update on the website indicated that my Statement of Professional Standing (Teaching Assistant Permit) from California is being evaluated.
Three days ago, I received an e-mail from the College telling me that the assessment of my credentials is pending. It should take the OCT about 120 days to complete their evaluation. Hopefully, they will tell me that I can be a member already without having to take any more classes.
A teaching certificate would definitely open up more job opportunities for me and raise my salary grade higher than the minimum wage. I am hopeful this would also allow me to move around the province in case I need to.
"You know, when your country is colonized, they take away everything. Your land, your soul..."
"Your identity," I said as I looked at my friend. "Everything!" Her voice shook with emotion. I nodded in silence. "We have writers like you," she said. "We have writers who write about my country. But they kill them." "We've had that happen too," I bit my lip. "Throughout our history, we have writers who have been killed. This is why we remember. This is why I write and want to write." "Your country is good to have a leader. Your people know what they want." Her eyes looked ahead. "Mine? We don't. My people are lost. So you asked me if I miss my country?" "Yeah?" "I don't." And I understood her for I heard parts of her story, her life back in her country.
We started to walk away from the park where two figures holding an Olympic torch stood. "Maybe one day Haiti will be like the Philippines. Maybe there will be someone who's gonna be brave enough to be that leader for you." "I don't know. The world is going backwards for us." "Maybe this has to happen because your people need to wake up." "Maybe." She sighed. "Maybe it'll happen generations after us," I said. "I still have hope for my country. That is why I am here. That is why I cried that day, remember?" She nodded. "I want to help myself first so I can go back and help more." It was the Eternal Optimist in me talking again. "When the time comes." "I didn't want to leave my country," she said. "Because it is a part of me. It'll always be a part of me." "Yes!" I understood what she meant because it echoed precisely how I felt. "But I want to live," she said with deep conviction. "I want to live."
