I don't know how to start this without omitting any details. Today, I had my brush with the Talibans and the Mujahiddin.
At 12:10 today a bomb exploded in the center of Qunduz in Afghanistan. The target was the former head of the Mujahiddin. In the blast, there were 18 bystanders who were deemed collateral damage, including a 6 year old girl.
The team responded well to the emergency. We were very quick in triaging the injured and prompt in the management of the cases. I saw a man with his left leg totally blasted off,and another with the gaping hole on his abdomen. Despite the severe injuries, we were lucky that we have a good team so there were no other persons died in our hospital.
The head of the Mujahiddin was however, unlucky. He was dead on arrival.
With all the commotions,there was an exodus of people outside the hospital - military, press, common people and other what nots. It was my first time to see tanks and men with AK47s, submachine guns and other artillery I couldn't even name.
I had to deal with the dead body and meet all the grieving "family". I had to have a shouting spree with the members of the special investigations division because they want to come inside the hospital. In the end, releasing the body has reduced the tension in the compound.
My adrenaline has gone down now and I just want to lay in bed and cover myself with a blanket. After all of these, thinking of the lives lost and living wasted, I am happy to have come to a conviction: I am proud to be here and give my best to the victims of these senselessness. There is already too much hurting in this world and me being here, even just providing a little bit of care and protection to the patients is enough.
I salute our brave men and women who risk their lives in helping other people. In the end, what we do defines us -- and that is all that matters.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
A-tinggling we will go....
A couple of days ago, while taking a long ride from the field to the office, one of the guys started to ask about the efficacy of viagra on young men. Being the know-it-all that I am, I started my lamentation on the abuse of this drug and the side effects it would cause. I also volunteered some information about Cialis (which by the way you can buy over the counter, without prescription in a lot of countries in Asia)and got some curious georges asking more about it.
And the story winded on to some more sex and me being too polite to tell them, I wanted to sleep, I give in to the endless barrage of questions.
And then I asked: Do you know about the clitoris?
Blank faces - innocence personified.
Apparently, a lot of men all over the world do not know where the love button is!
And I asked further: So what is it that you do? Just huff and puff and blow the house down?
Sex is a funny topic. It gets everyone interested, curious and even downright eager. But when it comes to the mechanics of things, some gets lost in the action and not with the parts associated with it (the act, dummy).
And when I got more puzzled look, I just yawned and closed my eyes. Enough for today's class.
And the story winded on to some more sex and me being too polite to tell them, I wanted to sleep, I give in to the endless barrage of questions.
And then I asked: Do you know about the clitoris?
Blank faces - innocence personified.
Apparently, a lot of men all over the world do not know where the love button is!
And I asked further: So what is it that you do? Just huff and puff and blow the house down?
Sex is a funny topic. It gets everyone interested, curious and even downright eager. But when it comes to the mechanics of things, some gets lost in the action and not with the parts associated with it (the act, dummy).
And when I got more puzzled look, I just yawned and closed my eyes. Enough for today's class.
Of cameras and acts
I should have smiled when he took a photo of me.
I have been on TV, yes - a couple of times, but never on international news.Some news agency came to ask for on the interview about 10 days ago on the the floods here in Sindh and then someone from French 24 came and took some footages whilst we are moving into our house (if you call a-one-bedroom-for 14 people-a-house).
15 minutes of fame, here I come. And like I said, I should have smiled. But then looking around at the desperation of the IDPs, I decide to put on sad and serious face. It wasn't on my best angle, and I was wearing a rather pudgy vest -- but hey! a lot of people would kill for their 15 minutes of fame.
Have a scan on your TV channels - everywhere in world, there seems to be a competition showcasing the amazing hidden,some not so-amazing and downright rubbish talents showbusiness has. I admire the guts of those who shame themselves in front of the camera, but I guess before one starts to strut their voice and shrill their dances (you read it right) - they should ask first: "what would santa claus say?"
And so there I was thinking whether I should proceed wowing the world with my emotions, I decided to tone it down low and speak as truthfully as damn possible.
Jacklyn Jose, eat that!
I have been on TV, yes - a couple of times, but never on international news.Some news agency came to ask for on the interview about 10 days ago on the the floods here in Sindh and then someone from French 24 came and took some footages whilst we are moving into our house (if you call a-one-bedroom-for 14 people-a-house).
15 minutes of fame, here I come. And like I said, I should have smiled. But then looking around at the desperation of the IDPs, I decide to put on sad and serious face. It wasn't on my best angle, and I was wearing a rather pudgy vest -- but hey! a lot of people would kill for their 15 minutes of fame.
Have a scan on your TV channels - everywhere in world, there seems to be a competition showcasing the amazing hidden,some not so-amazing and downright rubbish talents showbusiness has. I admire the guts of those who shame themselves in front of the camera, but I guess before one starts to strut their voice and shrill their dances (you read it right) - they should ask first: "what would santa claus say?"
And so there I was thinking whether I should proceed wowing the world with my emotions, I decided to tone it down low and speak as truthfully as damn possible.
Jacklyn Jose, eat that!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Freaking Glad To Be Back!
I can't believe that it has been more than a year since I have posted something here. I admit I got a bit dismayed by the lack of internet connection in most of my missions, uninspired by some turn of events and had accumulated so much experiences (!) that I totally lost interest in sitting down and typing them into one fluid story.
What broke the camel's back? I have received 3 (yes, Marsha, 3!) requests for new posts -- not from my friends who regularly check on this blog, but random acquaintances. It seems mid life crisis is more apparent these days, no? And so after so much dilly-dallying and spending too much time in the office - bored to death with protocol and policy writing - I did what most office employees do: went online, searched the web and now, writing on my blog.
I promise on a boy scouts three-fingered oath that I will constantly write something here.
There.
What broke the camel's back? I have received 3 (yes, Marsha, 3!) requests for new posts -- not from my friends who regularly check on this blog, but random acquaintances. It seems mid life crisis is more apparent these days, no? And so after so much dilly-dallying and spending too much time in the office - bored to death with protocol and policy writing - I did what most office employees do: went online, searched the web and now, writing on my blog.
I promise on a boy scouts three-fingered oath that I will constantly write something here.
There.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Dubious Emails
I have received 33 emails today. A third of these were from Facebook and another third were from amigos and amigas greeting me for my birthday.Two emails were from Yangoon, an email from Pantaloons in India, and two emails asking for help. The rest were unworthy to be opened.
Those emails asking for help were actually funny. So I receive one from a doctor friend from Kenya (Peter Mwangi) saying that he went to London, lost his wallet, and now is locked in his hotel. He needs 5,000 pounds and wants to know my address, telephone number and bank details. The other is from a Filipino acquaintance who I met when I was in Vanuatu.She wasn't a friend - she just pushed herself into my life. The first time I received an email from her was a couple of years ago when she said she is selling her house so she can send her 14 years old kid to school. Now she is asking to borrow money because she is in a "transition" period (whatever that means). The weird thing about her email was she mentioned (in the last paragraph) that she will put the money in my bank (if she will pay), and that I should call her if I will make the deposit.
I can hear the scam bells ringing loud and clear, here!
I am very much amazed at the creativity of people who send "help" emails.The probably spend time concocting stories so some vulnerable person would jump and send them money. I mentioned vulnerable and not stupid -- because I actually know of a guy (an intelligent one at that) who sent "help" to Uganda because his friend needs to be taken out of the hotel! Two weeks later he met his friend at a mall in Manila and told his friend if he did received the money sent. The friend, after the confusion has been settled, said thank you BUT he was never in Uganda. What would he be doing there?
Another guy I know from my VSO days became ecstatic when he received an email from one of those African countries specializing in spam mails. The sender is a banker who holds in trust some 200 million dollars and that the real owner died in a plane crash. So if he (my not-so-stupid friend) accept this responsibility, the banker will send him the money proviso ---- (drum rolls) he gives him bank account number, telephone number, etcetera.
And yes, he did sent the nitty gritty details, including his wife's bank account for fear that $200 million will be too much on his account number. I don't know what the ending to his story is. I didn't know if his savings were cleaned or if money was actually deposited. Who knows? All I know that in this day and age, there still are precious innocents!
Those emails asking for help were actually funny. So I receive one from a doctor friend from Kenya (Peter Mwangi) saying that he went to London, lost his wallet, and now is locked in his hotel. He needs 5,000 pounds and wants to know my address, telephone number and bank details. The other is from a Filipino acquaintance who I met when I was in Vanuatu.She wasn't a friend - she just pushed herself into my life. The first time I received an email from her was a couple of years ago when she said she is selling her house so she can send her 14 years old kid to school. Now she is asking to borrow money because she is in a "transition" period (whatever that means). The weird thing about her email was she mentioned (in the last paragraph) that she will put the money in my bank (if she will pay), and that I should call her if I will make the deposit.
I can hear the scam bells ringing loud and clear, here!
I am very much amazed at the creativity of people who send "help" emails.The probably spend time concocting stories so some vulnerable person would jump and send them money. I mentioned vulnerable and not stupid -- because I actually know of a guy (an intelligent one at that) who sent "help" to Uganda because his friend needs to be taken out of the hotel! Two weeks later he met his friend at a mall in Manila and told his friend if he did received the money sent. The friend, after the confusion has been settled, said thank you BUT he was never in Uganda. What would he be doing there?
Another guy I know from my VSO days became ecstatic when he received an email from one of those African countries specializing in spam mails. The sender is a banker who holds in trust some 200 million dollars and that the real owner died in a plane crash. So if he (my not-so-stupid friend) accept this responsibility, the banker will send him the money proviso ---- (drum rolls) he gives him bank account number, telephone number, etcetera.
And yes, he did sent the nitty gritty details, including his wife's bank account for fear that $200 million will be too much on his account number. I don't know what the ending to his story is. I didn't know if his savings were cleaned or if money was actually deposited. Who knows? All I know that in this day and age, there still are precious innocents!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
One more time - for the books
For those who watched and loved Slumdog Millionaire, they would also love the book from which this movie was based on. The book is Q&A, written by Vikas Swarup and all I can say that it is a gem!I was hooked from page one to the last -- almost forgetting that I had to be in the predeparture area 15 minutes before the flight.
I found myself enjoying a lot of asian authors recently. I think I have finished all the books by Haruki Murakami and had started to discover Indian authors and their amazing talents.
Whilst in India, I have devoured novels by Anita Desai (who have written novels about family tensions and the alienation of lower and middle class women -- some of these were even made into films), Jhumpa Lahiri (who wrote the Namesake and other short stories), Arundhati Roy (The God of Small Things, Kiran Desai, Salman Rushdie,Vikram Seth (A Suitable Boy) and my latest favorite Aravind Adiga who wrote The White Tiger (which won the Booker prize).
I believe there are a lot of talented asians and what they have written touch me because of the commonality of experiences. Not basically because of our location, but it is easier to empathize and sympathize with the characters and the situations.
In this day of movies and videos readily available for anyone at anytime, I still find solace, adventure, love, experience, fantasy, escape, and a whole lot of things from books. I am lucky to have some friends who share with me the same passion for reading.
and you can print me on that....
I found myself enjoying a lot of asian authors recently. I think I have finished all the books by Haruki Murakami and had started to discover Indian authors and their amazing talents.
Whilst in India, I have devoured novels by Anita Desai (who have written novels about family tensions and the alienation of lower and middle class women -- some of these were even made into films), Jhumpa Lahiri (who wrote the Namesake and other short stories), Arundhati Roy (The God of Small Things, Kiran Desai, Salman Rushdie,Vikram Seth (A Suitable Boy) and my latest favorite Aravind Adiga who wrote The White Tiger (which won the Booker prize).
I believe there are a lot of talented asians and what they have written touch me because of the commonality of experiences. Not basically because of our location, but it is easier to empathize and sympathize with the characters and the situations.
In this day of movies and videos readily available for anyone at anytime, I still find solace, adventure, love, experience, fantasy, escape, and a whole lot of things from books. I am lucky to have some friends who share with me the same passion for reading.
and you can print me on that....
Greetings-A-Gaga
I am often irritated when upon meeting friends (and acquaintances) who I haven't seen for a long time greet me with this statement:
"Hi... Are you rich now?"
I mean, common. Let's be civilized here. I haven't seen you for a long time and you can't even ask how I am and where I have been all these years? I know that Ethics (with a capital E) is refined as Experiences (with a capital E)grow, and that common sense should prevail at all times (note that common sense is not even italicized -- it is just that it isn't common these days). But wouldn't the natural thing be when meeting long lost friends --- just being happy you've found each other?
I had this friend from med-school days who I have recently met while pushing my grocery cart (where else but SM city?) and guess what he asked me: "I heard you are rich now, is that true?"
I answered: "indi a. makasarang lang.." (roughly translated as : You bet your sweet ass, I am!)
In Ethiopia, one of my favorite places in the world, people when they meet have the traditional hug and handshake. And as a sign of respect, ask the person ten times how he is... Redundant but very endearing.
In Vanuatu, my 'family' would give me a big hug (more of a huge squeeze, really)to show their happiness in seeing me.
So going back to the weird way my friends greet me, I become defensive and often times snobbish. I hate this feeling as this develops into hate....later I would find myself locking my wandering butt in the house for fear of meeting old friends and be defensive about their paranoia of me being rich.
Maybe I should wear a t-shirt saying: I'm not rich, but I am definitely famous.
.... or maybe just the shirt which says: "Fuck off".
God! The travails of going home!
"Hi... Are you rich now?"
I mean, common. Let's be civilized here. I haven't seen you for a long time and you can't even ask how I am and where I have been all these years? I know that Ethics (with a capital E) is refined as Experiences (with a capital E)grow, and that common sense should prevail at all times (note that common sense is not even italicized -- it is just that it isn't common these days). But wouldn't the natural thing be when meeting long lost friends --- just being happy you've found each other?
I had this friend from med-school days who I have recently met while pushing my grocery cart (where else but SM city?) and guess what he asked me: "I heard you are rich now, is that true?"
I answered: "indi a. makasarang lang.." (roughly translated as : You bet your sweet ass, I am!)
In Ethiopia, one of my favorite places in the world, people when they meet have the traditional hug and handshake. And as a sign of respect, ask the person ten times how he is... Redundant but very endearing.
In Vanuatu, my 'family' would give me a big hug (more of a huge squeeze, really)to show their happiness in seeing me.
So going back to the weird way my friends greet me, I become defensive and often times snobbish. I hate this feeling as this develops into hate....later I would find myself locking my wandering butt in the house for fear of meeting old friends and be defensive about their paranoia of me being rich.
Maybe I should wear a t-shirt saying: I'm not rich, but I am definitely famous.
.... or maybe just the shirt which says: "Fuck off".
God! The travails of going home!
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