Tres(ses NOT) Bien*

My favorite salon across the office deserved another visit from me last week. As a bonus, our Dutch visitor Jelle(who we are spoiling to death with out-of-town trips) and two girl friends, Gladys and Analyn (whose primary function that night was to offer moral support) tagged along.

When we got there, Olay (not his real name) was the only hairdresser present. Jelle and I had no option but to wait for each of our turns. By the power of the XX chromosomes vested in me, I, the lady, was the first one on the guillotine, er, chair. Meanwhile, my three companions busied themselves flipping through magazines.

What I wanted Olay to do was even out the length of my hair at the back. The trendy slanted cut I got last October has grown. In fact, it already reached the length that could be braided. I was ready to grow my hair long again. But the hairdresser who hailed from GenSan would hear nothing of it. He must have had an invisible hypnotic device which made me say “yes” when he suggested, “Ay, pantay lang. Corny. Iba naman.”

He who holds the scissors, rules. He must know what he was doing and so I consented, albeit tentatively. He showed me a magazine with pictures of Japanese girls with generic-looking haircuts: a bit shaggy, with a lot of bangs in the front, and layered, longish at the back.

Looks cute. Maybe this will work. And so I agreed. Snip, snip, his scissors went. He asked something about where I wanted to part my hair and I pointed to the side. (To his credit, he got this right. I now have sideswept, layered, full bangs). Many more snips later, the crime has been done. Final verdict: It was a bit shorter that I expected, with a little fluff on top after blowdrying.

I wasn’t completely thrilled with it because, well, it made me look different. I’m still trying to decide if the style reflects my personality. I don’t want to make it sound as if this haircut is so horrible I should put a paperbag with holes over my head. Not so. Overall, I’ve gotten feedbacks that fall under three categories: (1) Positive: “Hey, nice haircut,” (2) Curious: “What did you do to your hair?” and (3) Confused: “Ano yan, octopus look?” As to the last comment, a part of me wanted to playfully snap back, “Of course not. Squid look ito, no!”

Vanity, vanity, all is vanity!

Enough of my tres (ses NOT) bien [translation: Hair not good] story. I just felt this Mane Milestone needed to be recorded in the blogosphere. This is so that I will never forget to thank God that just as time heals all wounds, it also tames all bad haircuts.

*Pun on the French phrase, Tres Bien, meaning Very Good.

Turon on my mind

It was way past three in the afternoon and my tummy growled like a famished animal locked in a neglected zoo. I usually keep a stack of snacks in my drawer—crackers, biscuits—but two weeks ago, there was none.

On my way up to the fourth floor after making a quick trip to our bookstore, I saw him who held in his hands the answer to my most immediate concern:

A chinky-eyed middle-aged gentleman with a pan lined with turon*.

He, a client/visitor from overseas who manages the Kingdom Supplies bookstore, was on an overt mission of kindness. He bought the whole batch of Filipino snack from the old lady who occasionally drops by our building. When he saw me walking from the side door of the bookstore, I noticed that he paused for a second. He must have been considering then if he’ll share his treat with me. But unfortunately, since I wasn’t wearing uniform, he could have easily mistaken me for a customer. A part of me wanted to introduce myself: “Hi, my name is Beng. I work here. I’m hungry. Please give me a turon. ”

But no, hunger did not prevail over the dignity of this introvert.

Moments later, back at my desk, the cry of hunger was shushed by the chocomallows that I ordered earlier in the day and delivered soon after I returned to my workstation. But in between bites, turon was still on my mind. I promised myself I’d buy some—or cook some—soon. So you can just imagine my delight when Misha walked to my cubicle with something wrapped in banana leaves and tissue paper in her hand.

“Hey Beng, I have something for you….”

It turned out that the walking turon-giver, after handing a piece to every staff stationed in the first three floors of the building, left the turon pan with the Marketing department. And the last piece—through the thoughtfulness of an officemate—somehow found its way to me! Forgive the alliteration but I was thankful for the turon, not to mention totally thrilled!

Call me a woman of simple pleasures and I’d nod my head and smile.Yes, even turon can make me happy. That turon I ate two Thursdays ago became an object lesson of God’s incredible love, power and goodness. Only He could have known how much I wanted it at that moment. And wonder of wonders, my silent sigh of longing penetrated through the ceiling and reached the heavens.

No manna needs to fall from the sky for me to believe that my God, our God, can provide. This side of the universe, even the lowly turon can look like a miracle—and an answer to an unspoken prayer. Oftentimes we just have to look with our hearts to see God’s acts of grace happening right before our eyes.

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*a Filipino snack made of slices of banana and chunks of jackfruit wrapped in lumpia wrapper, deep fried and sweetened with brown sugar

the surprise: family edition

Today I came to work earlier than usual. As the first order of my day is checking my emails, imagine my surprise when this letter from Nang, one of my US-based sisters, greeted me. More than anything, it reminded me to thank God for my thoughtful siblings:

Kamusta ka na? I just want you to know that I am so grateful for your time, money and effort when you came here last year to take care of me after my surgery. You are such a generous and compassionate sister. Everyone should have a sis like you. As a token of my appreciation, I have decided to buy you a Mac Book Air! Really! Today is your lucky day!!!! (emphasis mine–BA)

Seriously, everything I said above is true…well, except for the part that says that I’m buying you a Mac Book Air (-: Happy April Fools Day (-:

. . . wait, let me edit the last few words of my first paragraph to read “thoughtful and FUNNY siblings!” For a second, my hope of having the latest Apple product was up. And then, a scroll down later, it vanished in thin (mac book) air. But nonetheless, the letter still made my day. Kind words can make me just as glad.