Beans to Means: An Immigrant Story of a Nephrology Nurse

By Melvin Lumauod

Beans signify the human kidneys. My professional development through advancing my understanding of Nephrology has allowed me to showcase my ability to serve those who are in need. This becomes my MEANS to achieve success on a job I learned to love and helped me appreciate the things I didn't in the past and things I have shared with people who benefited from my experience. A job that means so much to me and with a significant impact personally for me and my wife. It means bringing joy to our household, to procure the essentials on the table, and to see it as a reason why I have given up the supplementary idea of laboring more hours to live the most comfortable life but rather find solace and peace to see my effort done things I could never imagine. Dialysis Nursing is my calling, GOD has called me indeed, to foster the passion that lives in me. Someday I can say that I have fulfilled my dreams because of the “Beans” that give me the “Means” to sustainability. The life in a world where I matter and have made a difference on the lives of others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781663240903

Melvin Lumauod

“ In April of 1995, my life would change dramatically from a mere kid raised in a small city in the Philippines, Bacolod. Graduated from Riverside College-Bacolod Major in Nursing and earned my Bachelor’s Degree with a grand ambition to immigrate to the United States which would then become my second home. I met my love of my life, Sherry Kathryn Austria who was a little over a year younger than me. She would then gave me two beautiful, smart children, Patrick and Nicole. Little did I know, my life in the States had been painted by God solely for me to reach my goals in life. As an ambitious entrepreneur myself, I then learned to walked out of my comfort zone, built my very first business called JAM Entertainment, followed by a home operated Nursing Registry Agency we named Nurseplus Healthcare. I also indulged my self into Sales, MLM for Agel Enterprises. Lastly, Laundry industry had given my family the life we wanted while raising our children and at the same time maximizing our time with them. Today, I finally found my calling as a Nephrology Nurse for Da Vita, Inc. I am a designated Acute Clinical Coordinator at Queen Of The Valley Medical Center/ Providence Hospital in Napa, California. My wife and I enjoy our travels around the world. She is currently employed at University Of California- Davis as a Nephrology RN Case Manager. We have lived in Vallejo, CA for more than two decades now and continue to live every minute of our free time watching our favorite basketball team, Warriors and binging on Netflix series, etc. I also spend time on my garden. Our dogs, Chloe and Chanel loved to be out and enjoy the sun. My latest passion came as a surprise growing grapes, fruit trees and succulents. Also, recently I got to fly a two seater plane at our nearby airport with the “best pilot” I could have. His name is Josue Apodceca. For now, I’ll have GOD lead me the way wherever he takes me. Faith, Love above all, is my armor until I die. ”

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Copyright © 2022 Melvin G. Lumauod, R.N., B.S.N.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-4089-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-4090-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022910639

iUniverse rev. date: 08/17/2022

Contents

Foreword

Preface

Acknowledgments

PART ONE

My Life in the Philippines

History of Filipino Nurses

Getting Ready to Leave

Setting the Stage

Introducing Myself to the World

Character Formation

My Affection in Music

My Hood

The House We Lived In

Stores in our neighborhood

Life at Home

My Best Friend Growing Up

Early School Years

Elementary School

Early Years of Entrepreneurship

After-School Whereabouts

Sports and Activities with My Brother and Friends

High School Days

Breaking the Rules

I Disgrace Myself and My Family

High School Scouting

First Close Call—Almost Made It to Heaven!

Last Day on Camp

Home After Camping

Another Big Humiliation

Faith and Humility

Long Friendships

Business discovery in High School

Ping-Pong

High School Graduation

Summer Vacation

The Gift of Discipline

My Romantic Life

College Romance

Life in College

College Friends

Surprising Change of Direction

My Family in the Philippines

Junrey’s Story

Ramil’s Story

My Mother

My Father

My Relationship with My Brothers

More Family Relatives

Superstitions in the Philippines

Ties with Armand

Tita Bucay

Kids on the Block

Holidays Are Joyful

Family Christmas

School Homecoming Reunion

Planning for Homecoming Class Reunion

Overseas Contract Workers as I See It

PART TWO

LIFE IN AMERICA My Life-Changing Experience as a Nurse Begins

History of Filipinos in Vallejo

My Nursing Student Story

Manila to San Francisco

Arrival in the United States

New Family in a New Country

A niece’s Wedding

Hard Life of an Immigrant

Life Happens for a Reason

Sponsored Nurse

The in-Law Dynamic

Resignation at My Very First Job

Working two jobs

My First Business Idea Is Born

IgA Diagnosis

Dialysis at Home

Becoming a Nephrology Nurse?

Love More Being a Nurse

My very first Impression of Dialysis

Finding my New found passion

Real stories under my watch

Patient RJ

Start of My Laundry Business, 2006

Launderland Wash N’ Dry

Helping Other People

My Best Investments in Life: My Children

Travel with Family

Closing Note

About the Author

Dedication.jpg

"For my love of my life, Sherry, Patrick and

Nikki and for my generation to come."

- Love, Dad-

Foreword

Why did I choose this title?

I am an immigrant of Filipino and Spanish descent from the Philippines. I came to the United States with ambition to reach financial success in life like any immigrant. I have a few achievements I could claim as my own, but this story in particular involves hardships, challenges, frustrations, and failures. I always hear people talk about those who came to the United States and found financial success and independence. Those people encompass a victorious feat by facing all odds. Even though adversities hinder showmanship of grit in order to survive, that feeling of inequity from living as minority will forever live on. These individuals have set their goals to climb the steepest hills and mountains to reach the highest peak of their accomplishment.

Courage and strength have moved them away from the most hostile environment so they can procure the means to blend in with the rest of the Joneses and gain respect from their community. When others struggle to make ends meet, some strive for more to gain power. I was an immigrant who has been raised in a fun, loving, carefree, and religious environment, so who would expect me to leave a small world and head to a place inhabited with some of the most privileged individuals on earth? Rather, one can always dream to become somebody with high hopes in life as long as one continues to dream, work hard, set goals, and aim high. There is only one thing we sometimes forget to see when we are at the pedestal of success: humility.

Beans signify the human kidneys. My professional development through advancing my understanding of nephrology has allowed me to showcase my ability to serve those who are in need. This becomes my means to achieve success in a job I learned to love, and it helped me appreciate the things I didn’t in the past. I have shared these things with people, who have benefited from my experience. My job means so much to me and has had a significant impact on me and my wife. It means bringing joy to our household to procure the essentials on the table and to see it as a reason why I have given up the supplementary idea of laboring for more hours to live the most comfortable life. Rather, I find solace and peace in seeing my effort to do things I could never imagine. Dialysis nursing is my calling, and God has called me indeed to foster the passion that lives in me.

Someday I will be able to say that I have fulfilled my dreams because of the Beans that gave me the means to sustainability and life where I matter and have made a difference in the lives of others.

Preface

My dear reader, welcome to my story! First off, I want to thank you. You’re embarking on what I hope will turn out to be a narrative that is both enjoyable and illuminating to your own life story. To tell you honestly, I never expected to arrive at the point of having a fully completed book like this. But over the past few years, my instinct has persistently nudged me to put down on paper the story of my life and what I’ve learned so far. The story I’ll unfold for you is about a journey of faith in God; mine is also an immigrant story, of which I am very proud. I left the Philippines, where I was born, and came to America to achieve success.

I’ve been wondering whether it’s my ego instinct or God that has called me to this task. Whichever it is, it’s always been of the utmost importance to me to formulate goals for myself and then strive to successfully meet them. I believe each of us living has a story to tell to the world. The story may be good or bad, failure or victory, happy or sad—it doesn’t matter. But for the generations to come, my children and children’s children in particular, they can see that my existence at least brought some meaningful outcome, and they can learn from my own personal life experiences.

As far back as 1998, I started experimenting with writing an autobiography. The idea I had was to create a lasting record of what I could remember about my life. What primarily motivated me was the goal of creating a detailed record written specifically for my children and for their enlightenment as they grow up. Besides, I want my grandchildren as well as my relatives and friends to know exactly who I am! I intend to leave an enduring mark for my family to pass on to further generations. I want to share my life experience growing up in my chosen career as a nephrology nurse here in the States. Furthermore, I hope to motivate my children to follow the same path of writing their own stories.

Not a single person in my family is a writer or has any inclination to write. By my putting my hand to the pen (well, to the smartphone), I hope to make a difference in people’s lives, such that those who read my book will be inspired by my showing them how anything you set your mind to can be accomplished. I believe everyone has this ability. But we generally need someone to prompt us to say, I will and I can do it! I will make it happen, and here’s where I’ll start!

I hope you follow my train of thought, dear reader, and I trust I’m making sense to you. My enthusiasm for this project has exploded because of the discovery of a person named Timothy Greene, aka Mr. Lucky, who has become my cherished friend. He briefly offered his excellent writing wisdom as my ghostwriter before he passed away a few years ago. Tim was only in his early seventies. For so long, I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this to knock on my door. Tim has turned into the spark that has gotten me up and running. I believe strongly in destiny, and I am certain that we both have explanations for why this association has so fortuitously come into existence. After he passed, my interest in writing dwindled to the point of having this feeling of limited interest, even though I still have the strength to continue what we started. Nevertheless, I promised myself to move forward. I miss him, and I treasure every minute of our time together initiating this book.

Acknowledgments

I would be remiss if I didn’t say thanks to those to whom it is due. As I navigate this script of my memoirs, let me remind you that the names in the following pages will reveal their necessity and worth as I morphed from a small child in the tropical islands of the Philippines into man. You have to forgive me if there is something in my writing that might offend you personally. I apologize if any events that happened to you might affect you in any way, or if you think the information is inaccurate. This is unintentional on my part. I honestly didn’t know where and how to start writing my memoirs while living in America, but I must try my best to be as informative as I could to maintain accuracy in my writing. I tried to remember as much as I could. This book is in no way written in chronological order, however I advise you to keep reading from the very first page till the last word. What I have written is not fictional or a fantasy. These are real life people going through real events. Happenings that would soon reveal what kind of a person I really am. And that’s my purpose in sharing my life’s soon-to-be open book.

I cannot thank enough our Creator, who endowed me with the gift of writing. Sources of my inspiration who gave me undying support include the love of my life, Sherry. You made my life complete, honeybunch. Thanks also to my children, Patrick and Nikki, who gave me the perfect opportunity to be a father. Last but not the least, I have to take this opportunity to profess my love for my wonderful parents, Mr. Ramon Piana Lumauod and Mrs. Thelma Gargaceran Lumauod, and for my brothers, Junrey Lumauod and Ramil Lumauod. Their unconditional love and support kept me going through the years. They taught me how to be brave, face my trials and tribulations, reach my highest potential, attain my goals, and make my dreams come true. They accept me as I am, but they also remind me of my faults and shortcomings, comfort me when I feel down, and believe in me even if I have failed many times. I give credit to the whole world and all living things that have made me appreciate our God’s awesome creation. Thank you for your support in buying my book. I may not know you, but you might find the contents of this book beneficial for your own general experience as we live our lives on this earth.

PART ONE

My Life in the Philippines

The privileges given to me as a citizen of the United States of America have made me half of the person that I am today. The beginning phase of my career in the Philippines inspired me to follow a profession dominated by women. I thought I would never be like being a nurse, let alone be called one. Unbeknownst to many of my friends and families, I personally hesitated in picking nursing as an occupation. I’d always wanted to be an architect or electrical engineer, but unfortunately I didn’t attempt either one. That was such a disappointment to me, as well as to my father, who had promised me to send me to a good school for architecture.

The unexpected genesis of my journey toward the health care industry ignited when a cousin of mine made such a generous offer to pay my college tuition, with some conditions. The agreement was straightforward with no fine print: take nursing, pass the board, earn a US visa, work in the States, and help my family live a better life. It was as simple as that.

Nursing is a four-year bachelor’s degree in the Philippines. Our country has become a hub for producing quality trained professional nurses for many years. Our innate natural ability to care for people, gentle touch, and sincere care have made Filipinos a popular commodity to serve to care for sick persons and foster humanity around the world. Nursing was a perfect calling.

History of Filipino Nurses

This section is based on the history of the nursing profession, originating in the early 1940s during World War 2. After the war, Filipino nurses were offered a stipend to work hand in hand with American military nurses—and by the way, at that time they were all female nurses—because of the shortage of nurse in America. Filipino nurses were sent to different parts of American bases in the Pacific. The early 1960s are the era of Filipino nurses becoming a trade, and more and more of these young women signed up to have a better life in the United States. Filipino nurses were welcomed by the United States; however, they were assigned to a very labor-intensive unit such as the ICU, which proves that to this day, Filipino nurses thrive on this kind of environment, though they received low compensation compared to the local US nurses. The highly skilled people from the islands have the will to pursue their dreams to have a comfortable life and bring their families abroad.

The Philippine government saw this as an opportunity to increase the economy’s stability to prosperity because the money remittances that thousands of Filipinos sent to their families had a significant role in a developing country like the Philippines. The demand escalated when more US hospitals sought nurses to fill in the gaps, and with stringent screening processes. Filipinos, as resilient and highly educated as they had been, didn’t see this as a roadblock, and instead the curriculum, which had already adapted to the American system, made the outsourcing more efficient. For so many years, the Philippines and the United States have proven to be good allies both in the military and now in health care.

When I was small, my mother told us stories about my cousin, who had moved to the United States when I was born. The 1970s were tumultuous for the Philippines under President Ferdinand Marcos’s administration. With the insurgency rising, crimes were unstoppable, and he made a very bold move to cease all firearms and called it martial law. When he declared martial law in 1972, Marcos claimed that he had done so in response to the communist threat posed by the newly founded Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) and the sectarian rebellion of the Muslim Mindanao Independent Movement (MIM; Wikipedia).

I was born on January 31, 1972, during his regime. Little did I know that the country was in a strong upheaval between the Muslims of the southernmost part of the Philippines against the Philippine government. The dictator himself couldn’t tolerate this uproar from his countrymen, who demanded peace. His action was also deemed to be what a dictator would do to control the people and military forces in his power, aside from the political opposition he received from other parties. The extremists of the south, the communist guerrillas, would then be controlled to disable them. While this was going on, I grew up in a neighborhood of kids with only one thing on their mind, and that was to play and have fun. We didn’t care what was happening in the country. After all, we couldn’t do anything about it. So now you know how important history is for me, because I was a little less than a year old when martial law was called into effect, in September 1972.

Getting Ready to Leave

I hate to be a crybaby, but I am undoubtedly a full-fledged crier. It runs in our blood from my mother, who is a very sentimental woman. Before I left for the United States, we sat down and had a heart-to-heart about how I felt about leaving them and moving to what seemed like a different world. She told me to not lose faith in God and that whenever I felt weary, I must ask His presence to keep me through the day. My mother gave me a gift of wisdom, which I needed when I was living on my own; it reminded me of the words she had told me, asking me to stay strong. We both cried that night when she told me she loved me so much, and she said that if something were to happen to her (God forbid), I should look after my brothers and Papa. I didn’t like her leaving me all these responsibilities, because she made it sound like she was leaving us soon. She made me promise that, and as the obedient son that I am, I nodded my head.

I hadn’t been separated from my family for a long time before, and this move made me having sleepless nights before my departure. At first, it didn’t dawn on me how far I would be away from family and friends. California is about six thousand miles across the Pacific Ocean. I had never ridden in a large aircraft like a Boeing 747. I was terribly anxious about whether I could handle the long flight. My mother had sewn me a nice suit that she called Americana, similar to the blazer suits worn in winter in the States. It was custom made for me, so it fitted perfectly. My mother was a very good seamstress. Her training was in hair culture, but unfortunately, she never used it for a living. Even though she was also good at doing hair, that gave her some ease of comfort in case she found another occupation to supplement her income. Her relatives were good at making dresses, and she became an apprentice for them. She didn’t go to school for being a dressmaker, but it seemed like she found her passion for making pretty dresses. My aunt taught her the trade, and she would naturally impress her friends because she had natural skills. It didn’t take long before she knew she could run her own dress shop. She eventually made her dream of owning her business a reality. My father was a gifted and talented handyman, and our home became their stores, holding both a dress shop and a machine shop.

In the Philippines, it is common for self-employed entrepreneurs to run their own businesses out of their homes. It is cost-effective, with no rent to pay. Utilities are inexpensive, and most houses have a built-in water source from a well or pump. Parents can watch their children play while they’re working. I experienced this while growing up in the environment of my parents’ little offices. They also had some leverage and independence in controlling the time of operation or the subcontractors who worked under them. The flexibility of these hours allowed them to have quality time with their children.

Sunday was my favorite day while growing up because it was a family time day. We would go to church in the morning as a family and then buy our favorite snacks or merienda.

Street foods in the Philippines is the norm.

Our local delicacies were accessible anywhere. We would buy food and then bring it to the park across the church, St. Sebastian Church, while watching other kids our age play. The city where I grew up was full of colors and happy people. As the day neared its end, we would walk down to find a place to eat for dinner. Our favorite spot was Nena’s Chicken House, undoubtedly one of the best chicken inasal (grill) kiosks in Bacolod City. Chicken inasal, or simply inasal, is a variant of chicken marinated in a mixture of lime or calamansi, pepper, coconut vinegar, and annatto. Then it is grilled over hot coals while basted with the marinade. It is served with rice, calamansi, soy sauce, chicken oil, and vinegar. It is a grilled chicken with a variety of flavors and spices that are commonly found in most authentic Filipino dishes. Bacolod City named as the Manokan Country of the Philippines or simply known as Chicken City.

This happy upbringing made me more inclined to stay with my parents forever, but that was just not possible. Memories like these were hard to come by for many families, but my parents made that happen for us, and that is something I will always cherish.

A valuable part of my life would soon be apart from them, for only God knew when we would be able to spend time together again like the old days. The day finally came for me to formally say my goodbyes to my family, relatives, friends, classmates, and girlfriend. I was leaving the land where happy people would forever live in my heart. I couldn’t help but get misty-eyed as the plane was getting ready to take off, bound for Manila. To be honest, as I am writing this, the tears once again fall, but these are tears of accomplishment. I owe this to my parents and my family, who helped me transform my life into what it was meant to be. I also give thanks to my cousin, who believed in me and financially supported my parents. Her name is Lydia, and I will talk more about her later.

The plane landed safely at Manila Domestic Airport. While we were taxiing on the runway, my mind was disturbed. I couldn’t compose my feelings of some grief, loneliness, nervousness, and excitement. In that moment, I realized my life would never be the same again. My parents followed me to Manila, where we stayed for a night at our good friend Plot’s house. Plot was my parents’ customer’s daughter who kindly offered her place to us. The Bo-ot family were no strangers to us because they are my father’s frequent customers for all household furniture and machines that needed repair and maintenance. Manang Plot is what I called her, and her mother was a Spanish professor at the school where my father worked as a maintenance technician. She also was my mother’s avid customer for all her wardrobe needs. We were so fortunate to have known such a beautiful family friend like the Bo’ots, and hence my parents were honored to choose one of their daughters, Connie, to become one of my godmothers at my christening, a tradition for Catholic catechism.

Ninang (Filipino for godmother) Connie and her family had lived in Manila for quite some time. Their mother, Amparo, who I believed is now in her nineties, is currently in Bacolod City with her daughter and grandchildren.

Setting the Stage

Let me say at the start that I had a beautiful life as a child. I was born on January 31, 1972, in Negros Occidental province. Negros Island is the third largest of over seven thousand Philippine islands. It’s about 375 kilometers long running north to south. I grew up in the small urban environment of Bacolod City, situated in the Visayan, or northwest, part of Negros Island. The national language of the Philippines is Tagalog, but at home we spoke the Hiligaynon (Ilonggo) dialect. Of course, we also learned English through our years in school, and we often used Spanish as well.

Bacolod City boasts a history rich with cultural incursion. Malayan tribes occupied the territory when the Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan first arrived in 1521. By the end of the sixteenth century, Spain had colonized virtually the entire Philippine archipelago.

The name Bacolod was from the Hiligaynon word Bakolod. In 1894 Bacolod was occupied by the Spaniards. That same year Governor Manuel Valdivieso Morquencho was ordered by Governor General Narciso Claveria to announce and make Bacolod as the capital of Negros province. Bernardino de los Santos was the first Gobernadorcillo of Bacolod along and together with Fray Julian who became the first parish priest in the city. The next one that occupied Bacolod was the Japanese people. They occupied Bacolod on May 21, 1942. Because of the Filipinos and Americans working together, Bacolod city was then liberated on May 29, 1945 and was rehabilitated under Mayor Vicente Remitio from 1947 to 1949. (WordPress.com)

The year 1972 marked events of great significance in my country, especially in the area of politics. On September 22, by virtue of a proclamation he had signed the day before, President Ferdinand Marcos declared a general state of martial law that gave him greatly expanded powers for authoritarian rule. Marcos reacted harshly to the increasingly widespread dissent in the country, especially dissent resulting from the courageous criticism of Senator Benigno Aquino Jr. Marcos had Aquino incarcerated for seven years, and then he allowed Aquino to exile himself to Florida to deal with medical issues. Despite death threats from Marcos, in 1983 Aquino insisted on coming back to the Philippines, but sadly he was assassinated as soon as he arrived at Manila International Airport.

In 1986, under the protection from the US military, Marcos and his infamous wife, Imelda, fled the country, taking with them billions of dollars looted from the country’s resources. Aquino’s wife, Corazon Aquino, went on to become the eleventh president of the Philippines and helped to restore democracy to the country. Surprisingly, when Ferdinand died in 1989, she allowed Imelda to return to the Philippines. Imelda soon reentered the political arena and has since been elected twice to the House of Representatives. So you can see from this how I grew up in a turbulent environment full of political upheaval and change. However, in my local area, we were not that affected by these changes.

Introducing Myself to the World

I remember the people of my hometown of Bacolod City as characteristically warm and friendly, reflecting their underlying happiness. I am honored and proud to tell you, patient reader, that I grew up in this community. Nothing in my later life can compare with the happy memories I have of my childhood. The picture I like to describe is being raised in a loving family residing in a safe and wonderful city, where everything seemed problem free. Even when we did not have enough food to eat, we still managed to enjoy our life together. I would love to relive it all over again!

And so the child is born

To start at the beginning, on a January evening in 1972, my mother went into labor—a dreaded event for my anxious father. He piled my mother into a taxi along with his older sister, Remedios (Mommy Meding), and off they went on the short distance to the hospital. Within ten minutes, Mama was admitted to the labor and delivery unit. Papa can remember very little except tending to Mama’s needs while anxiously waiting for me to be born; they were surrounded by nurses, midwives, and a doctor. My mother later recalled that she recognized the start of her labor pains from having already gone through the birthing process once before with my older brother, Junrey. At 3:33 a.m., by natural birth, she delivered a healthy baby boy of seven pounds, nine ounces.

The doctor turned me upside down and slapped my bottom to get me to cry, which I obediently did! In those days, there was no clear way of determining a baby’s gender during pregnancy, so the excitement reached a peak when the doctor announced to my mother, It’s a boy! As the sun rose, Mother joyfully held me in her arms while admiring my shining face. While outside, others waited patiently for the nurse to display the newest member of the Lumauod family. Papa and Mommy Meding paced like people on an airport tarmac eagerly anticipating a grand arrival, but at the same time they both knew that something could quickly go wrong. Delivery rooms in the Philippines are far removed from the sterile and aseptic conditions that we sometimes take for granted here in the United States. Or at least the cultural practices might have been different from other countries depending on the religious convictions they hold.

I cannot recall ever hearing my mama or my papa saying anything about what they had wished for in their baby’s gender, but one thing is for sure: they were thankful for this new infant, and as my narrative moves forward, you’ll discover how this baby grew to be a kind-hearted man. At least, that’s what my parents claimed while I was growing up as a child. My mother was responsible for giving me the peculiar name of Melvin. She had discovered the name in a magazine article about this African American man for whom she apparently developed an admiration. But this highly unusual name did not fit well in our Filipino culture. The name was odd and so American. Hence, some of my acquaintances almost always tend to forget my name. Why didn’t my parents give me a common name that was easy to remember? Even though I actually had a high school classmate with the same name, that didn’t keep me from feeling alienated because of the name Melvin! To translate this to a Filipino name, my parents started calling me Bebing or Bing—another strange name to call a boy because Bebing is a girl’s name. My parents’ explanation on this was that the last syllable of my first name, vin, rhymes with bing, so they have kept this as my nickname to this day.

Character Formation

I was full of life growing up. Aside from being a naughty, careless, rambunctious, mischievous and free-spirited person that I am, I am also a loving son, brother and reliable friend. I am highly sentimental, emotional and very sensitive person which sometimes I really hate. I focus intensely on being a caring and loving to my family, They are absolutely my first love and my total commitment. I also believe, and people tell me, that I carry these same qualities into my relationships with other people. Good or bad, I stayed to be loyal to those who I claimed to be my trusted family and friends.

I’m proud to say that my birth year, 1972, happened to fall under the sign of the rat, one of the twelve characters of the Chinese Zodiac calendar. I think I have inherited many of the good traits and ambitions of my sign, along with perhaps a few of the not-so-good qualities as well! People born under the rat are said to be quick-witted, resourceful, and versatile. Their strong intuition and ability to respond allow them to adapt readily to new environments. Other traits, such as imagination, powers of observation, and a high sense of curiosity, enable rats to take advantage of opportunities for accomplishing almost anything they want. Typical careers for rats include entrepreneur, musician, administrator, or politician. On the list of successful people born under the sign of the rat are names such as Shakespeare, Winston Churchill, and Louis Armstrong, to name a few.

Now, dear reader, please understand that I am not claiming to belong to this level of exalted accomplishment. But you will soon see how ambitious I am in my goals and plans for what I want to make happen in my life. What might block my way, I have to admit, is the darker side of my rat qualities: I often having apprehension that can lead to my being timid, sometimes lacking focus and concentration, and being unreasonably headstrong and obstinate. It is often said of rats that they make a virtue out of greed and success. I feared not to believe that the ugliness of the rat would eventually be the reason to make my life fall apart. Little did I know that there is some truth to these superstitions. Chinese experts on Zodiac sign interpretation spend countless hours gaining enormous knowledge. It’s wicked, strange, and highly superstitious that normal people like us have less or rather no ability at all to understand clearly how it is interpreted.

My Affection in Music

For those who knew me well, I couldn’t hide my love of music. I discovered my obsession with songs at an early age while listening to my nanny and Mama while they were doing chores at home and I was falling asleep. Their constant humming of Sinatra and Presley songs filled the house as if they were having a recital. Every day I was exposed to music from my mother’s favorite medleys of the sixties and seventies, with some songs as old as the forties. Growing up with all these songs ingrained in my mind had me thinking that I should’ve been a musician. I got to know more singers and their songs. One of my favorite early bands was the Platters. I cannot exclude the Bee Gees, the Jackson Five, the Lettermen, the Righteous Brothers, the Carpenters, and of course the Beatles. In the early seventies and eighties, my fascination with music continued to blossom. I grew up in an era of pop, new wave, country, hard rock, punk rock, R&B, soft rock, techno, disco, and many others. My all-time favorite songs are mostly from the eighties. Anyone could attest to this, especially those who were born under these years.

The late 1970s to early 1990s were no exception. REM, Wham, Johnny Hates Jazz, Fra Lippo Lippi, Michael Learns To Rock, Air Supply, The Cure, The Jets, All 4 One, Color Me Bad and of course Tears For Fears were just a fraction of some of my favorite bands during this time. Most of the ballads that reminded me of my girlfriends were heard on the airwaves all day long, and I became hooked on love songs. A newer FM radio station in our city opened in 1990s was Kiss FM. I was in college at that time when my older brother, Toto, introduced me to his friends, who happened to be disc jockeys. We would go there so frequently that Toto started skipping classes, and he showed his disinterest in school later on.

Christian music was my outlet against depression. Songs of Gary Valenciano’s such as Take Me Out Of The Dark, Could You Be Messiah, Shout For Joy, Natutulog Ba Ang Diyos and his own rendition of the songs Lead Me Lord, I Will Be Here, The Warrior Is A Child, and many more that I listened to everyday. Also that of Jose Mari Chan’s Christmas songs were my all-time favorite. Love songs like, Beautiful Girl, Tell Me Your Name, Constant Change were so captivating. Of course Bryan Adams’ All Hits Songs in one Album released in 1991, Walking Up The Neighbors was my most valued CD I kept all these years.

My time at the radio station got shorter in a day because of an enormous homework and constant studying of my hated subject, anatomy and physiology, where I had to spend long hours memorizing human parts. I wouldn’t have enough time to mingle with my DJ friends. They used to let me and other members receive calls inside the DJ booth for requested songs. Toto had more stories to tell about the gigs of the station, and he would go along with the staff and their sponsored local Philippine celebrities, where the concerts would be held. Eventually, he gained instant access to numerous shows that the stations held, whether national or international. I admired Toto for his dedication to music, the radio network, and its entire organization. He was loved by everybody. Toto gave so much of his free time, volunteering without a stipend.

When I left the Philippines for America, he landed an opportunity to work at another FM radio station. One of our dear friends, Nilo, who was then a DJ, was promoted to manager, and Toto came at a very opportune time. He was hired immediately as a night crew DJ. He sent me one of his recordings while at work. I couldn’t believe that Toto was talking on the air, spinning the records, and running his own segment. It was admirable of him and very impressive. I was so proud of him.

Music is my scapegoat. Songs give me peace of mind and help me relax and internalize my emotions. Songs that were tattooed in my brain were those that had a significant impact in my life and changed my perception of love and life in general. Classic songs as a little child were not uncommon, especially in the Philippines. We were always exposed to ballad music. When karaoke was born, it was a craze in Asia.

Just a little trivia how karaoke existed. It was patented by a Filipino man named Roberto del Rosario in 1975, and to this day he is recognized as the patent holder. I was born in an era where sing-along (without lyrics) was a hit, and the lyrics were printed on paper inside the cassette tape case. Then came the 1980s, when compact discs took the music industry by storm and made audio-cassette tapes obsolete. My favorite brand of cassette was Maxwell or Sony, which were expensive, but the quality was incomparable. I made my first cassette recordings of songs I copied from the radio station almost every