Casper on the Move

Setting: Outside a building with a group of friends and colleagues. The cloud is overcast and the day almost at an end. A female colleague hands me a lottery ticket to check against the winning combination. I took the pinkish-orange ticket from her and clearly read the numbers printed on it. The ticket combination numbers are 4-10-14-21-24-25. The dream momentarily became blurred and the next scenario showed me and another colleague getting excited over the winning ticket. We called our colleague who owns the ticket and told her that she won. She is naive about the winning and asks me what to do. I told her to immediately sign the back of the ticket so that she can prove that it is hers and for security purposes. She then asks me further what to do. I then instructed her to go to the National Lottery Office and claim her price. “How much is the price?” she asks. “3.5 million” I told her.

 

With another female friend, they walked away from us holding the winning ticket.

I am here on my spouse’s visa, hence a dependent visa. I am free to work without any restrictions except my own personal limitations and capabilities.

 

I presented myself to a nursing home about 30-minutes away from where we live. The nursing home is located in a quiet estate near the town centre. Cautiously getting off the local bus, I consulted my trusted GPS phone for directions. From the bus stop, I walked further forward-turning left at the round-about. A wide neatly manicured lawn opened on my right side beyond the low-lying fence made of vertical steel. Further beyond the greens, about five conservatories dotted the edge of the lawn. This must be it, I told myself.

 

Further up the road, I saw the familiar blue-white health service billboard. I quickly crossed the road and entered the home’s property. Numerous bungalows lined the main private street fronted by well kept gardens and flower-beds. I walked further to the main bungalow identified by a huge sign made of copper – RECEPTION.

 

I entered the double doors into the foyer and through another set of doors where a large office table sat on the right of the door. A small enclosed room on the left opposite the table, three settees, a bookshelf and other office furniture completed the office atmosphere. I introduced myself to the receptionist.

 

I was handed the application form and sat myself in one of the settees to complete the form. I flipped through my own personal documents while the receptionist conveniently ignored me.

 

A long hallway fronted me and a door on my left side occasionally distracted me from completing the form as people passed by regularly. A small chiwawa came running out from one of the rooms in the hallway and played madly with its little squeaky toy.

 

Three-quarters through the form, a female staff came out of the door on my left and greeted me.

 

“Hello. Pinoy?” she asked with a wide grin on her angelic face.

“Uhu.!” I said surprised.

 

The female introduced herself as Hazel and a staff of the home for just over a year.

She is a healthcare assistant and is on a training course today. We gingerly talked about how work is on this place, how many other Filipino staff are working here, and a few other stuff.  In a low and barely audible conversational tone, she reminded me not to forget to secure a work-placement letter from the college. Confused and puzzled, I asked her what her visa status is. She said that her right to stay in the country is through a student visa. She further added that as a student, they are not allowed to work more than 20-hours a week unless a letter from the college authorizes them to do so. With a work-placement letter from the college, she emphasized that they can work up to 40-hours a week. I asked her how it is possible for her to attend college and do 40-hours a week work. She said that at most, they only attend college (WSC) twice a month. Possibly noticing my surprised expression, she asked me what my visa status is. I then told her that I have a dependent spouse’s visa and therefore not limited to any restrictions. This revelation made her dumb-founded for a while. A few minutes later she then wished me luck in the application and excused herself to have lunch.

 

In hind-sight, I am surprised how people will expose themselves simply to further encourage others to join their cause without any caution and due regard to the existing law. Being a stranger and an immigrant in any place should put us all in a heightened state of care and doubt unless proven otherwise. Had I been an immigration officer, Hazel and her other colleagues will be on a plane home as of this writing. But as I am not, I simply learned from it, walked home with a new found perception and something to write in this blog.

SM Sta. Mesa going to V. Mapa is completely covered in 2-inch thick mud. The sky is dark and the air damp. People are in the front area of the mall confused and in a semi-state of panic. Public transportation is slowly moving with jeepneys still moving slowly. I cannot see or hear the Light Rail Transit moving.

 

I walked towards V. Mapa with a long piece of stick attached to a single wheel, similar to an engineer’s measuring wheel. The mud slushy moved and parted ways to my wheel guide.

 

On arrival at V. Mapa street, the dream setting changes.

 

I am now inside a two-storey wooden house. I am sleeping at the first floor. I woke-up and walked down to the ground floor. In the ground floor, a single piece of wooden table adorns the whole place. A gas lantern sits in the middle of the table. The window and doors are without any cover. The sky is over-cast outside.

 

I feel my wife around but cannot see her. She then appears from my left and gave me food. She then quickly moves to a door in the left rear of the place. I feel that she is doing something important and wants to finish it.

 

The scene immediately disappears and the next scene I remember is a male (I do not know who he is) wearing a tight leg-hugging white trousers and a coloured top. He quickly walked from my right to my left. I sensed that he is rushing to catch something. I am located quite lower than the floor pavement. I feel similar to being inside a waist deep hole in the ground. While the unidentified male walked past me, his white leg-hugging trousers changed into a leather-like material of neon green colour. Simultaneously I also found him quickly showing me a piece of paper with the number 10 clearly written on it. As he walked away from me, I had a mixed-feeling of masculinity and femininity coming from the unknown male.

 

The rest of the dream is unclear and unremembered.

Makiki-saw-saw ako sa issue ni Hayden Kho for my own personal piece of thoughts.

 

I was watching TVP (25th May 2009) and can’t help but listen to Mrs Irene Kho’s statement about his son because my wife insisted on watching it.

 

She enumerated and gave litany about her son’s good background and behaviour from early childhood. She encouraged the public to ask family friends about their good and religious characters. She also cited the presence of years-old statue in the family home and a wooden cross which she normally has in her person. She then emphasized that what she is saying on national TV is the truth with respect to these religious icons. She said that she does not want to say or reveal anything more. She also emphasized that her son is innocent and can never do such thing. She also expressed her discontent for two other personalities for having involved her.

 

 

TVP anchor Karen Davila tried to ask her questions to which the matriarch kept on talking. After a few attempts to intervene and moderate, the anchor managed to ask her the question of why she is not happy with the two other personalities and what they have done to her. In reply, Irene Kho answered the question by reading a passage from the Bible. The anchor then re-phrased the question and in effect technically asked the same question. Mrs. Kho repeated her earlier statement about her family and her son’s good character and behaviour and again said that she does not want to say anything. The anchor’s question remain unanswered thereby the anchor again tried to re-phrase the question to elicit an answer from Mrs. Kho. The same manner of elusive answering followed by a litany of good behaviour and finger pointing followed from Mrs. Kho.

 

At this point my wife then commented loudly about “why is she on TV then if she does not want to say anything?” I then expressed my thoughts on the preceding conversation. Firstly, my wife is perfectly correct in her statement about why is she on national TV if she does not want to say anything. Does she only want to see herself on the tube or to showcase her cosmetic result? Well i guess anybody will do or say anything to have their 60-seconds of fame. Second point in case, why involve the religious in this case. The fact that a 300-year old statue and a similar wooden cross in her person does not alter the facts and the reality of Hayden’s actions. Reading from the Bible also does not answer a question that needs a direct response. I do believe that the question asked is simple and even a HS student will be able to answer. Come to think of it, she might not have understood the question at all, hence the Bible answer. Third case in point, as a parent myself I do feel her maternal feelings. Parents always look at children’s good points and psychologically shuns negative or bad points. This is a parental instinct. As the saying goes, children are parents’ own flesh and blood; hence an instinct exists to protect your own flesh and blood. Fourth case in point, a person’s childhood and developmental good upbringing is not a guarantee that the person will be a good and exemplary citizen in adulthood. Profiles of most felons are indeed related to their past (i.e. childhood, early adulthood) experiences, however this is not a completely reliable factor. Fifth case in point, Irene Kho finally revealed the tip of the ice-berg that in the whole scandal, her son Hayden is the victim of certain powers that be. In her own words, the (scandal) is “scripted”. Absolutely hilarious and grand-standing is my initial reaction. The evidence is clearly out in the public. Katrina should then win the best actress award and the scandal should earn the best picture and best cinematography for its realistic portrayal of the scandal. The SFX guy should also be credited for the scandal’s life-like special effects. Saying that this scandal is a scripted documentary with Hayden as the unknowing actor is completely absurd and unacceptable. My suggestion for Irene is to get real.

 

Finally to emphasize my point, I have a metallic cross from Rome which was blessed by the Archbishop of Milan. I also have a huge picture of the Sacred Heart in my room and a Palaspas on my door. Having these religious icons around me influences me to always be true to myself and to my external relationships. These are my honest points of view of the matter. Also before I end, let me globally say that I am also a 36-year old virgin with a similar look to Johnny Depp. Now do you believe that?!

23rd May 2009

We are running away from a large number of violent people, similar to a tribe. Together with me is a huge group of people and a small young female with supernatural powers. The setting is in a valley. We just came from the mountains and are running through the valley onto the next mountain. My group is armed with arrows and spears. Running perilously close to us is the other group of people. While on the run, I telepathically asked the young female to create a distraction between us and the other group. She looked at the foot of the mountain from where we just came from and where the pursuing group is now located. Suddenly the flatland separating us from the other group turned into white slippery snow. I felt briefly relieved as a distraction is made. However as the other group reached the iced land, it suddenly turned to normal meadows and flora. We continued running. We reached the other mountain and as we turned right, another group of spear and arrow yielding tribe marched past us. I did not feel afraid or threatened as I felt that this group is here to protect us. We continued to run along a natural corridor of shrubs and trees. On reaching the end, we turned right towards a huge door-like opening. Inside we stopped and rested. After a few minutes, the tribe that protected us came running inside to our side followed closely by the original group pursuing us. The pursuing group did not enter our side of the huge door-like opening but instead went inside to the left side, opposite ours.

 

We exchanged arrows with me sending off a handful only to miss my target shamefully. From our side, I tried to aim for the male leader of the other group. I can describe the male leader of the other group as pear-shape body, fair complexioned, wearing a horizontal striped blue and white shirt. He sat in full view of me behind a glass wall. I tried to aim for him with my arrow hoping to break the glass in the process. After a few failed attempts, I further asked for a few more arrows. One arrow even got stuck in the glass wall. In despair, I crafted my own arrow using a piece of knife and a long piece of hardwood. I sharpened the tip gingerly. When I was about to use it, I found out that it is the bow that I just used to make an arrow. I asked for a new bow but I am not comfortable using it.

 

I then woke up.