15 Books

The rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes. Tag fifteen friends, including me, because I'm interested in seeing what books my friends choose. (To do this, go to your Notes tab on your profile page, paste rules in a new note, cast your 15 picks, and tag people in the note.)

1. "Dandelion Wine" by Ray Bradbury

2. "The Mist" by Stephen King

3. "Robots of Dawn" series by Isaac Asimov

4. "Murphy´s Boy" by Torey Hayden

5. "New Testament" multiple authors...not because of the religion but because I remember going through the short stories particularly The Good Samaritan.

6. "The Good Earth" by Pearl Buck

7. "Like Water for Chocolate" by Laura Esquivel

8. "The House of the Spirits" by Isabelle Allende

9. "The Hobbit" by JRR Tolkien

10."Twenty Poems of Love and a Song of Despair" by Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto

11. "The Good Omen" by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

12. "Amina Among the Angels" by Merlie Alunan

13. "Love in the Time of Cholera" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

14. " A Question of Heroes" by Nick Joaquin...repeatedly checked out this book from the STC main library so many times.

15."The Happy Hustler" by Grant Tracy Saxon

Let´s talk about the elephant in the room

UP UNTIL the fourth grade, Mama would wrap my head in a towel before going to sleep. Doing this helped me avoid the effects of dawn temperature changes. On days when this ritual was forgotten, I would wake up sneezing, teary-eyed and runny-nosed until about 8am when the sun was high in the sky and the temperature stable. Allergic rhinitis is in fact is how Mama eventually declared me as her living barometer.

It was not surprising then that in moving to Iceland (where you could expect four seasons in one day) I encountered difficulties in adjusting to the weather. This peaked a few months ago when it became so bad that I had to sleep sitting up. It scared me enough to make an appointment with a doctor.

Two weeks later, there I was twiddling my thumbs and trying to compose in my head a litany of symptoms (half of them already gone in the two weeks waiting to see the doctor) in Icelandic. When I walked into the examination room, greeting me was a framed "American Academy of Physicians" certificate so off went the carefully researched  Icelandic medical terms and I happily rattled off medicalese in English. So satisfying...but I digress. 

My fifty-ish doctor ( age being a good thing otherwise I would´ve walked out) promptly scribbled off a  prescription for a nasal corticosteroid spray. Everything all clear and well-diagnosed. Or so, we thought until on my way out I happened to mention if it would be alright if he checked this probable lump on my throat. I was half-embarrassed about it because it could just very well be an advancing second chin. Except that, with sonogram in hand he turns around and says, "Yes, there seems to be a well-defined mass."

Uh, okay. 

Since then, I have been to blood tests, ultrasounds and biopsies which in summation arrived at an unsatisfactory conclusion: thyroid carcinoma. It is supposed to be papillary, the curable kind, but the biopsy report also mentioned undefined cellular mutations which can only be classified and identified by an actual specimen (and not through cells sucked out by a thin, abnormally long needle). 

The Big C is a family thing and more than a few in every generation gets initiated into the club. I just never thought that I would be the first in my batch.

Well, there it is. The elephant in the room that I have never as yet publicly discussed except with the few who I thought ought to know directly from me. It could be that I cannot call everyone who matters seeing that overseas calls are expensive and everyone´s just spread out all over the world. So, I blog instead. 

On September 8 (which happens to be a Holy Day of Obligation for Catholics and Mother Mary´s birthday) I will for the first time go under the knife. After that auspicious date I will go on sick leave. Time on my hands and hopefully enough blogging hours will allow me to add to the meager first-person information on thyroid cancer in the internet. It will also be my self-purging, a therapeutic addition to my post-op recovery. Besides, writing has always been my life and allows me to connect from the old world, cold world. 

I hope you keep me company in this new adventure, another fork in the path.

Blowing kisses

The distance
from sunset to sunrise
is forever, except
when your smile´s a kiss
and then it spans, a hand

Palpitations (Hjartsláttarköst)

There is nothing about me
where fires simmer
unseen, unheard
except for heartbeats








Hjartsláttarköst
Ekkert er til um mig
hvar eldarnir malla
ósýnilegur, óheyrður
nema hjartsláttur

*apologies for this rough Icelandic translation. It will come, I promise.

When dancing on tabletops becomes

I owe you this,
an explanation.
The why, what and who
of lost summer days
and winter nights
spent wondering
how what ifs would end,
if pursued.

Once more, I am loved
and in return am loving
this one who is for sitting
in front of dying fires

It is amusing to think
I once dreamed
of dancing on tabletops
and once did prance unclothed.
The price of dinner and conversation

That was for the other. Maybe you.
A before, and long over.
So please accept, an apology.
For growing into the woman
you would have loved to love
after ours was over.

I am loved now.
There is not enough time
for dancing on tabletops
anymore,

Is there discrimination in Iceland?

I HAVE never experienced any form of discrimination in Iceland, no the Icelanders are too polite for that. They are straightforward folk with the highest birth rate in Northern Europe who are open-minded enough not to refuse same gender unions. Screw the moralists, so they say.

Of course, there is no discrimination in Iceland. My employer and labor union are both scrupulous about following wage laws. In fact, my employer has tried to make me a permanent employee but was refused by the Utlendigastofnun (Bureau of Immigration). Never mind that I try to be a goofy good worker and actually employed before I arrived.

Who says Icelanders are intolerant? In an effort to help me adjust, I have been made to understand that learning the language is vital and because of this, my employer has paid for Icelandic language courses that I truly need to take. I go to work feeling guilty for explaining myself in the language I know best. I say to myself that sounding ignorant is a temporary thing (3 years being the time needed to grasp the language…yes, not learn it in its entirety). It is a sink or swim proposition when it comes to understanding Icelandic.

How can there be discrimination in Iceland? Laws are passed and a minister appointed to oversee immigrant concerns. There is even a cultural center that provides translator services, immigrant activities (heck, there is even a bingo night), a multilingual magazine even an in-house lawyer. At the moment, I am even attending a course called The Settler’s School. It has advanced Icelandic, an introductory computer course, some Icelandic history, geography, a couple of visits to the library, a token hello to the big dogs at the Alþingi (we are supposed to be suitably impressed) and of course, a night at the theatre. The computer course is sooo much fun. They are teaching us how to use Word, how to do an internet search (you just have to use Google Iceland) and other sundry stuff that are IMPORTANT. I am told that I am in the wrong course because I probably know too much about MS Word. I think not. There is no other course that will teach me something about Iceland. I am in the curious netherworld of wanting to improve myself at work but cannot because all the courses are in Icelandic and I know only enough to function. Repeat: It’s a sink or swim thing.

I am getting used to being part of a minority. The brown-skinned group from that part of the world called Asia. I have learned to ignore the pained face of that snot-nosed kid who sees a different face in the checkout counter. No darling, I whisper to myself, you don’t need to speak Filipino.

And yes, there is no discrimination in Iceland. The only time I remember something resembling such was a snide aside strangely enough made by another foreigner trimming hedges. He mockingly called out to me in fake Chinese. It sadly negated the beauty of his blue black skin. Funny boy, so proud of his ignorance. It did not even remotely sound like the literary rhythm I learned to love in China.

No complaints really from my end. People like me are “new” to this part of the world. How I live is different and anything different is a scary thing. You need to learn to harden your heart against the beauty of this land.

Loving an Icelander is also not an option. Otherwise, you will have to stay and know in your soul of souls that your children will also see the pained face of that snot nosed kid in the checkout counter.

Once more, there is no discrimination in Iceland. In fact, it is the happiest country in the world.

Firecracker frenzy on New Year's Eve

It's almost 3 in the morning here in Reykjavik and people have not yet recovered from the fireworks frenzy. I still see occasional flashes of man-made stars lighting up the dark Nordic sky. New Year's Eve has just passed and if you were to follow Chinese belief, then all evil spirits have been chased out of Iceland.

I find it oddly comforting, this Icelandic version of New Year. One more familiar note in an unfamiliar country. I suppose that Icelanders do not light fireworks because they have taken on the Chinese tradition of making sure bad omens and spirits are scared off by all the noise. There is still a lot of banging going on here in Reyjkavik but unlike the Philippines where the value of firecrackers is directly proportional to its loudness, Icelanders cherish more the display of firecracker colors. The flashier, the better. Sadly, the flashier firecracker is more often the more expensive one. Judging by this year's fireworks display, there is no financial crisis here in Iceland and if by happenstance firecrackers drive out evil spirits too, the better for the country.

I just hope it works.