hey, it's me.

I am a pure Mindanaoan. Mindanao is the largest Island of the three big ones in the Philippines. My Father is from Surigao del Norte, my Mother, from Surigao del Sur. Both were teachers (a noble profession).I was born in Surigao del Sur. But I did not stay in the place very long. My Father traded his lesson plans, blackboards and chalk for tractor, soil and seeds. (Yeah, he realized his family couldn't eat chalk and paper, so he went to a greener pasture--pun intended.)

His change of profession demanded change of location. So he towed the family to Davao. I was four or five, then.

So, that made me a Davaoeña. Bisaya nga Davaoeña.

Having seen how my mother worked as a first-grade teacher, I promised never to become anything that came close to being a teacher. What with those kids crying, getting a teacher's attention because they had to go to the comfort room, or some of those tweeks playing pinch-me-I-will-cry; and the paperwork!

So at college, I took Business Administration--thinking going into business was easy and glamorous. But after a year of being in the course, I felt there was little in my system that hinted 'entrepreneurish'. Well, I did fairly well in class, but when the thrill of taxes and accounting and bookkeeping started to wane, to the extent that they even made her feel dizzy and nauseated, I had to finally accept it: it wasn't for me. I finally heeded the call of teaching, and did what she promised herself never to be--a teacher. Can't run away from fate, eh?

Although language was my major subject, I loved literature, particularly the Philippine Literature.

Teaching Philippine Literature at the University was enjoyable. But it became more challenging when student population included foreigners. The subject was studied in the basic languages in the Philippines: Bisaya, Tagalog, and English, and some foreign students would just gape while the discussion was going on in class. This was where my studies in translation and language teaching became useful. It was very challenging to teach the students one language in a language they barely understand. Like a blind man teaching a deaf-mute how to use the xylophone. (Okay, that could be an exaggeration, but you get the point. Don't you?)At one point, it was frustrating, but at the same time, it was fun. Sometimes I would feel like an idiot talking to an alien. And then I would just laugh at how ridiculous a sight we were.

After a long period of frustration, inspiration, and achievement, I decided to take a sabbatical from that profession.

And now, I am my own boss, deciding which students to take, and when (among other things). Sometimes, I still get frustrated with this boss, but so far, I like this boss better.

And life has been great.