Monthly Archives: September 2009

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Travel, Budget Airlines and the Lilt of a Foreign Tongue

Reaching Up, Out

Reaching Up, Out

I like vacations.  Whenever I can take mini ones – I take lots (can I smile greedily here?).

It started when I was 21.  I just won the top cash prize at the office raffle and what better way than to squander it all at a grand Hongkong vacation.

Okay, it was not grand.  We stayed at a three star hotel and had breakfast everyday at the McDonald’s but I was with my bestfriend and we went around Hongkong and had so much fun – going to the parks, seeing the day life and the night life, tasted all the local delicacies, shopped for satin underwear, luggage and Giordano shirts, haggled (oh boy can I haggle) – that I wanted to do it again (and again and again).

And again.

From then on, I promised myself that I will take at least one vacation at an international destination every year.  Hey, I was single, I was employed, I had no financial conscience (it was fun while it lasted).

This year, I am taking 5 mini-vacations (to my financial planners – uhm, ehrm, sorry?).

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Do Not Grow Old

The Unmasking of the Future

The Unmasking of the Future

The twilight of the years – everyone is heading there. Thanks to medicine, people now have a lifespan of 80 years. Whether that is good news or not, the fact remains – we have to prepare for a long life. But how grand or how miserable your exit will be is up to you.

Yes, in fact, the world is graying. The United Nations projected that by the year 2050, the population of 60 plus would have doubled and that this would place enormous social and financial strain on private pension and government social security systems.

In third world countries, the strain is not only on the economy but also on family relationships.

If you are old and feel the weight of your years, you know what I mean.

If are taking care of an old relative, or have, you know of what I speak of.

I have, too.  If only for a moment.

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Do You Like To Gamble?

Cockfighting: Some People's Drug of Choice

Cockfighting: Some People's Drug of Choice

Gambling is a topic I would not touch with a ten-foot pole, for very personal reasons.

But after yesterday, I thought I had to.

I was just with a female friend, enjoying spending time with her, when she nonchalantly mentioned that she was still at it – that she spends many a night in a gambling joint. She knows her savings is dwindling because of it, her family life is affected, that she has to get out before all is lost. She does not, and will not. My brow is furrowed and my worry is palpable but she remained unfazed.

I know this. I have seen this.

Gambling, for the past century, have metamorphosed and have taken several different forms, each effective and successfully luring man from himself. For one, owners of gambling joints have become more sophisticated and daring. Despite strict regulations, gambling dens have managed to populate and edge itself into the fringes of society without anyone realizing it is there. Boxed in 80 x 50 rented offices, black hallways with semi-private booths, they are there tucked in your friendly neighborhood. No screaming neon lights here.  Only a constant stream of people, alternately covering their faces and skittish with excitement and guilt, betray their presence.

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The Zahir, Goldman Sach’s 10,000 Women and the Acomodador

 

The Sky Is The Limit

The Sky Is The Limit

Today I am reading Paulo Coelho’s the Zahir.  He talked about the acomodador.  It could not have come to me at a better time.

I just learned that I did not get into Goldman Sach’s 10,000 Women.  I really wanted to be a part of it, part of a milestone, of women who can, with this training, “spur more jobs and income, for their businesses, their communities and, ultimately, for their countries.”

I prepared my application, lovingly, apprehensively, wondering what to put on it, wondering how to impress the judges.  I dressed carefully on interview day, sharing carefree banter (and my brochures and calling cards) with the other applicants – some out of Payatas who had a cooperative; a social worker who is building a call center from the ground up, cutting up her prices so she can compete with India; a businesswoman who flew all the way from her province, who protested at the class schedule because it will take her away one full week every month from her business (and how will the business survive without her?); and one who sold her soaps to the group and shared to me that she first went to Manila to find the mother who left her, and she did find her and came face to face with her, but she did not want her, not then and not now.  Women in business with their own stories, all strong, some struggling, all deserving.  Out of 97 shortlisted applicants, only 24 were able to get in and I was not one of them.

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