myJOURNEY

What language do you speak? Be-ne or Ma-Le?

I felt a numbness in my lower right arm from the elbow radiating down into my hand. My middle and ring fingers were swollen and there were sensation of pins and needles, tingling and pulsating. Then an excruciating pain followed that made me groan and moan. Lifting my arm made the pain even worse. Was I having the symptoms of stroke or heart attack?

I quickly took two aspirin tablets as my wife advised me to do if ever I felt any such symptoms. Too bad, my personal nurse (wifey) was across the world visiting relatives in the Philippines when I had those scary moments. Therefore, I was alone in that emergency.

Shall I call 911 or drive myself to the emergency room? I prayed, then googled “symptoms of stroke and heart attack” on my iPhone. I could not even use my right hand fingers to type the letters, so I did it with my left.

It turned out that what I was experiencing were none of those that I suspected. It mustn’t be stoke because I had none of the following symptoms except the sensation in my arm and hand.

Neither could it be heart attack for the symptoms are much different. Therefore I ruled out 911 and the emergency room visit.

But I had this painful condition that must be dealt with. I took some Tylenol pain reliever. It didn’t seem to work. The pain actually got worse as I felt a burning sensation in my palm and fingers. I went to the wash room and ran cold water on my hand. The burning sensation was relieved somehow. I laid in bed propping my arm on a pillow. But keeping it still made the pain grew worst that kept me awake all night. I had to get off bed every so often and move my arm and hand. Moving them while standing helped dispel some of the pressure and pain.

What is this condition?

I remember when my wife had a carpal tunnel syndrome. She would wake up in the middle of the night groaning in pain, rush to the wash room and ran cold water on her hand. She developed carpal tunnel syndrome through the years operating an Autocad designing program on a computer. The repetitive motion of her hand and fingers damaged some nerves. She had a surgery to correct injury and the procedure was covered by workman’s comp.

I still have not gone to my doctor to this date. I’m scared of the idea of being under the knife again. Besides, what kind of expense would that entail? Unlike my wife, I had no employment that would provide workman’s comp!

I’m suspecting that I had developed a carpal tunnel syndrome on my right hand and arm. All those years of cooking and food prepping, gardening and all other hand tasks were taking a toll on my busy, overworked hands.

There is always numbness in my hand. The irony is that I only feel the pain when my hand is rested (not working). For whatever reason, when I’m busy working I feel no pain at all. Seems like work, work, work, work is the cure. When my hand is in pain, I would find something to do- wash the dishes, fold the laundry, clean the house, weed the garden…..How long can I endure that? That’s why I call it “my restless, tireless hand!” Seems like I will only rest when I’m finally laid to rest. Isn’t that true to every human being?

It is amazing how life turns to a direction you don’t even intend to go.

After I sold my restaurant, I decided to be lazy for sometime to catch up on sleep and rest. But when I got rested my usual self started looking and wishing for activities, work, projects, actions, productions and things of that nature. I realized 60 is not yet the time for retirement.

Then my interest on painting got a revival. I started from the basics since the last time I worked on brush and canvas was two decades ago. Like a little child I experimented with colors. I splattered them with my fingers, smashed them with balloons, blew them with straw. I poured and let them flow (like the one below). I created at least 25 pieces to add to my existing work.

When I was ready to paint more seriously, I was distracted by a call of duty.

Our two rental properties in West Chicago were vacated by tenants when their lease contract ended. This was an opportune time to give those houses some TLC.

They say ”be careful what you wish for”. Well, I got what I wished…..work….plenty of it! I was faced with a tremendous task of cleaning, repairing, painting, updating, decorating, etc. Of course, I needed help from professionals at some point. So I decided to hire a professional builder and promoted myself as Supervisor for house renovation.

The mortgaged properties can’t be vacant for a long time. The property must generate some income. There are big bills to pay- the mortgage, insurance, utilities and maintenance. We either sell or find new tenants. But selling involves a long wait and when the property is on a lease contract, it is more difficult to sell. What do we do while awaiting for buyers?

The answer came from ”disruptive innovation*” in the hotel industry. I learned that I could run my own ”hotel” by listing my property to Airbnb and Vrbo! Suddenly I became a hotelier!.. a host!

The next turn of events were very exciting!

My property now listed on Airbnb: My first booking was from a student from a community college-College of DuPage. Sergio was looking for a house where he can shoot his movie ”The Good Neighbors”. The project was for his graduation requirement. I gladly allowed him to do his filming at my house. Then when he was done with his film, he recommended another student.

I offered my other house for filming so the set will be different. Christian brought his actors and crew to shoot his sci-fi movie. It’s about a married couple, the woman was an alien from another planet! Sergio and Christian promised me that they will invite me to their respective movie screening.

I may not see my name on the movie credits but I still consider myself as part of the movie production. After all, it was in my houses that the movies were shot! (Please no one disagree with me on that…lol)

My job as an Airbnb host is fun. I got to meet people of different backgrounds from different parts if the world. Cinzia and her friends are from Italy, Kummar’s family is from India, Brendan and his friends are from Tennessee and Missouri,

Ana-California, Jill-Missouri, Judy-Florida,Heather-Colorado,Alex-Wisconsin,Michael-Texas, Tiana-Kansas, Kayla-Illinois, Maureen-Tennessee, Trent-New York, Kyron-Minnesota, Jason, Michael

Here are myNew Gigs in summary:

Renovation Supervisor

Hotelier, Host

Janitor, Housekeeper, Laundryman

Maintenance

Movie Set Producer

I’m excited about the new experiences that will still come my way! Life becomes more exciting when you learn and do new things!

*Disruptive Innovations

This will include: Airbnb, Vrbo, Uber, Lyft and who knows what else will follow?

It’s easy to get fascinated with bamboo. This tropical plant is the fastest growing and the tallest grass in the plant kingdom. Some bamboo varieties can grow as much as three feet in a single day. It is touted to be stronger than steel and more durable than oak or maple. Amazing facts!

Although I didn’t know these facts as a young boy growing in the Philippines, I’d been fascinated with bamboo, nevertheless. For I experienced first hand the benefits of this prolific plant.

We had a bamboo thicket at back of our house. Mother made me in charge of finding and harvesting the young shoots (labong) for food. Sometimes there were even extra harvest to share to the neighbors or sell at the market for some cash. We would gather the bamboo twigs for firewood and the bigger twigs were materials for making a fence to protect our backyard vegetable garden. The bamboo trunk provided flooring materials when our floor needed to be mended.

I remember, after the harsh devastating tropical storms, trees were uprooted and the roofs were blown away, but the wind-yielding bamboos were left standing strong. And I was in awe!

I learned early on that as fatherless young man, and the only boy in the family, I must be resilient and strong like the bamboo.

Just before graduating high school when I was fifteen years old, I felt a heavy responsibility of helping my family. Our house badly needed repair. The roof was leaking, many parts of the wall were rotting and crumbling. Father passed away some eight years ago at that time, and no one was there to repair the house. I was the man of the house and I’ve got to do something.

It was then that I decided to join the barrio men to go to the foothills of Sierra Madre mountains for their yearly gathering of wood and bamboo for constructing and repairing their houses. Mother was not comfortable with the idea but I was very insistent. She’s worried that my frail frame would not endure the trek to the foothills of the grand mountain. She then made sure I had enough food and water for the long trip, and she prayed for me.

We started our journey at 3 am. All ten of us rode at the backs of our own carabaos (water buffaloes). As we travel, we lined up like a caravan. In front of me was my cousin Amang who was engaged to be married in few months. There was a lot of time for sharing stories and conversation about life. Kuya Amang intended to build a nipa hut as part of the deal in his engagement. Along with him were his father, my uncle Polon and another son, my cousin Efren who would help him cut and gather trees and bamboo for his project. He said that between the three of them they could gather enough materials for his nipa but.

Trailing behind me was my uncle Polon who gave me some orientation regarding our trip to the bambooland. He said that for my intended project, I would need to concentrate on gathering “buho”, a variety of bamboo for making bamboo walling. This variety is thin and can be easily cut in half from bottom to top, flattened and woven into a wall. He also warned me to be always careful and mindful of my surroundings as there are deadly snakes that resemble the color of their surrounding and therefore difficult to spot. “Before entering the thicket, you must make a lot of noise to shoo away the deadly snakes. Always look around, up and down before you work, always be careful.”

Now, I understood why mother was hesitant to let me go.

The bambooland at the foothills of Sierra Madre mountain was a site to behold. The air was cold and pleasant. The vegetation was thick and the leaves were darker and greener than the ones in the lowlands Few minutes into the forest, we were greeted by the soothing sound of a rocky stream that leads in a mini waterfalls. I saw and heard variety of birds. There were small monkeys hanging by their tails on tree branches. There were varieties of wild berries on vines and bushes. Uncle Polon showed me which ones were edible. There was plenty to nibble while gathering my “buho”.

The serenity in the bambooland was greatly disturbed by the barriomen intruders. The sound of our bolos cutting down small trees and bamboos scared the resident wildlife and they all went into hiding. As it became hot and humid during midday, we could not resist dipping into the deep ends of the brook to cool down. “This water is cold and clean, you can drink it.” says uncle Polon, pointing to the mini waterfalls upstream.

“We must be ready to go back to the lowlands before sunset.” announced Uncle Polon at around four o’clock pm. “By this time you must be preparing your sled and your cargoes.”

My cargo consisted of 100 pieces of “buho”, enough to cover a wall panel that needs to be replaced in our house. My uncle sounded very proud of me as he joked. “Puede ka na ring mag-asawa. Makakagawa ka na rin ng Bahay.” (You can now also get married. You can now build a house.)

The return trip was slower because of our heavy load. No more conversation because we were all spread apart and separated by our long bamboo cargoes. But the air was filled with singing. Each one belted out his favorite kundiman song to entertain himself and to fight sleepiness. It was past midnight when we reached home. Mother was awake and there was a spread of food on the table: grilled fish, white steamed rice, coffee rice, rice cake, stewed vegetable greens with labong (young bamboo shoot). I included on the spread the wild berries I collected from the bambooland to her delight. While eating, she inquired of my experience at the Sierra Madre foothills. Her eyes were gleaming with pride as she listened to my story.

Just like many of you, I have set some goals for myself for the year 2019. My goal is to be a WINNER. Not that I am competing with anyone. I’m competing against myself, for I found out that it is not other people who impede me from accomplishing my aims but my attitude and my outlook. I fell short. I did things that retarded my growth and I made unwise decisions. The acrostic epigram below defines who is a WINNER, insinuates a confession, and expresses my intention to make amends. To “wring out” is to squeeze, extract and get rid of something. Attitudes of indifference and negativity are toxic and need to be eliminated from a person’s character if he or she is to demonstrate compassion . These actions repel instead of draw people .Good intentions are simply meaningless , null and void if not accompanied with appropriate actions. Hence, a call for action must be heeded.

When I announced on Facebook that “I broke off from the Restaurant business”, my SENSE sister Ellen Salvador Jennings asked a question many of my readers would ask:

Many congratulated me and expressed their best wishes for my decision. Thank you my Friends!

Now, I have time to reflect on my experiences in the restaurant industry.

(Note to myREADERS: I might sound bragging in this article, but I don’t intend to. I’m simply telling my story.)

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I definitely became a better cook. My recipe had grown quite a bit. I can cook anything and turn it into a gourmet meal. I always tease my friends:

“Show me your refrigerator and pantry and I can make you and your family a special dinner.”

That’s what I do when I visit my grownup children. I look for whatever is in their fridge and pantry and cook for them a unique recipe they never had before, and they love it. Thanks to the experiences brought by almost ten years of professional cooking.

I cooked and served food to people from all walks of life, from the homeless passing by my restaurant to the CEOs of a big corporate offices around Chicagoland, and many others in between.

I did weddings no other restaurants can do. I was the caterer and the pastor who officiated the weddings – a one-of-a-kind package deal!

My social circle had greatly expanded. I was introduced to various social clubs many of which are Filipino/American organizations. I was invited not only to cater food to their events but also to speak, sing and pray. In the process I forged special friendships and developed acquaintances. I consider this as one of the best gain I had for being in the restaurant industry.

I’ve introduced Filipino food to the mainline market. Mabuhay is the only Filipino restaurant in the Chicagoland that regularly caters to big corporate offices which include the United Airlines, BMO Harris Bank, DHL, Kellogg School of Business, the Northshore Hospitals, Walgreens, and many more. Filipino food is being served to a wider customer base and I’ve seen how it is liked and appreciated. (Read the note below to learn how the corporate catering works.)*The new owners of Mabuhay inherited these accounts and so is the privilege of breaking through mainline market.

My interpersonal skills were tested and challenged as I met the best and the worst people: customers, competitors, employees, suppliers,vendors and telemarketers. In the process, I learned how to deal with people of various backgrounds and differing temperaments. I quickly learned how to discern motives and how to deal with them squarely in a Christian manner.

I had supporters and admirers as well as opponents, bashers and critiques. I dealt with a lot of people who run their businesses dishonestly. I’d been shortchanged and taken advantaged of. I quickly learned the “How Not To” run a business so I could maintain my integrity as a Christian.

But my loyal customers (there are many of them) brought me a lot of encouragements and inspiration. They dined regularly, ordered food for take out, ordered catering foods for their family and office events, came to my special events and best of all, they endorsed my restaurant. Many of them became my friends and readers of this blog.

The hardest part of leaving the restaurant had something to do with my church. For almost four years, Mabuhay Restaurant was the home of my church congregation Lord of the Nations. We met there every Sunday afternoon. The restaurant converts to a church at 4 o’clock on Sunday afternoons. In one corner of the dining area, I built a small stage that served as my pulpit where I stood and preached.

After church, during the fellowship, the congregation would feast on the buffet food. Once I heard a church member blurted. “When you attend this church you are served two kinds of food; spiritual food and physical food, and there’s no reason for you to go home hungry.”

I’ve been known as the Pastor Chef. Customers would come randomly looking for me asking for prayers and advise. I reserved a corner in the restaurant where I sat with them for prayer and counseling. It was in that corner that I did the pre-marriage counseling for couples that I married. It was there that I cried and prayed with people who were experiencing desperate situations. That restaurant was a holy place where God was worshipped and praised, where good words and blessings were uttered and where we felt God’s sweet presence.

I will share you more of my experiences as I remember them. For now, I’m enjoying my time minus the great responsibilities of Restaurant entrepreneurship.

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*(A company called Fooda does the marketing for Mabuhay and other selected restaurants. They look for big corporate offices/buildings with at least 500 employees. Fooda also signs up their “restaurant partners” who will bring/deliver lunches to these offices. There are hundreds of offices in Chicagoland that are being catered by hundreds of Fooda Restaurant partners in a given workday, and Mabuhay is one of those. Our customers are the employees of that given office building. Mabuhay has two catering teams serving more than 100 meals a day.)

I wrote the above epigram (quote) two years ago. But I must confess that “the preacher did not practice what he preached” on this particular issue. I fell short of my ideals especially in the areas of food, drinks and rest. There must be a game plan in order to put this principle into good use. And so to redeem myself from this blunder, I came up with a strategy that will guide me in implementing my wellness principle. I call it: ”myRule of 8 for Wellness and Health”

Sleep Deprived: Anyone?

I’d been sleep-deprived for a long time due to demands of work. In addition to my regular workload, I have many things I wanted to do and I sacrifice sleep in order to do the other things. However, I found out that the quality and quantity of work done by someone who is lacking sleep sometimes become mediocre and substandard. And for a perfectionist that I am, I beat myself for a lousy performance. As a result, I’m doubly stressed and that’s not good for my health.

Frustrated with my inability to focus, I decided one night to go to bed earlier than usual. I slept at 9 PM, to my wife’s surprise! She couldn’t believe I was heading to bed early. “Are you okay?” She thought I was sick. “Im good, I just want to sleep early tonight.” I responded with a yawn. ”Very good! I’d rather see you go to bed early than stay late tinkering with those stuff.” She quipped with a grin.

For an exhausted body like mine, I didn’t have to count sheep in order to sleep. Before long, I was in deep, sound slumber. For the first time in many moons, I had multiple dreams. I’ve probably had REM (rapid eye movement) all through my sleep. I woke up few minutes before the alarm sounded at 5 AM, which meant that I wasn’t forced to wake up. I got out of bed feeling refreshed, invigorated, and restored. I never had this feeling in a long while.

What a difference an eight hour of sleep made!

Unlike the usual mornings, that day I felt very good;

happy rather grumpy;

invigorated rather than weary;

motivated rather than disheartened.

That beautiful morning, I did not drag my feet to work. On the contrary, I had a very positive outlook. I was very willing and ready to roll my sleeves and go to work.

Consequently, my day was very fulfilling with a lot of things done with excellence.

Eight hour of sleep is essential to good health. This fact is supported by scientific research.

Duhh!!!

Isn’t that a common wisdom, but we always foolishly ignore?

I therefore resolve as it is hereby resolved that I will go to bed early and sleep for eight hours every night.

Rule #1: Get 8 hours of sleep everyday!

I hereby challenge you, my reader to consider this to be your wellness habit. If you’re not sleeping 8 hours, it’s about time to be kind to yourself. Resolve to sleep for 8 hours tonight!!! And every night thereafter. You deserve it. See for yourself the benefits of this good practice.

Well, as much as I wanted to share my other Rule of 8 for Wellness and Health, I checked my watch and it says ”time to go to bed.”

Watch for the continuation of this series. Night, night!!! Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Let’s set this issue straight once and for all!

I can’t take it anymore!

Enough is enough!

You’ve known me for a long time and you don’t even know my name!”

Can you believe it? Even some of my closest relatives and friends aren’t sure how to pronounce my name correctly.

I’m called many ways and therefore many names. Usually, I just smile or laugh at them when they mispronounce my very short name. But deep inside, I feel some kind of resentment and frustration. Actually, I’m annoyed!

How do you think I should feel when a close relative calls me “Hell”? I’m sure they don’t really mean what it meant. They are simply unaware.

Some even called me

Jill

or

Gill

or

Gel

Arrrrrrghhh!!!

I remember when I graduated from seminary. During the rehearsal, I approached the Provost who was assigned to call the graduates. I said : “Madam, although my name starts with a ”G” it is actually pronounced with an ”H” Hil. She made a note to remind herself. Guess what? During the actual graduation she read my name ”Jill Valenzuela”

I almost did not want to go on stage when she called me. I did not let this small mistake spoil my big moment. But I felt like half of my face was frowning and half was smiling.

I always find myself lecturing people on how to pronounce my name correctly. “My name is spelled with a “G” but it is pronounced with an H sound “- Hil.

But many seemed oblivious to my explanation. They still call me “Gill”. Until one day I made a decision. “Let “Gill” be my American name from now on”. Since then I respond to “Gil” without being annoyed. I tolerate this amongst the white and non-Filipinos. But I have zero tolerance among the Filipinos. I don’t give them any excuse for mispronouncing my name. After all, my name is very native. My parents took it from a Tagalog calendar. “Your name was one of the suggested names for a boy born on the first of September”, my mother explained to me.

So, let us set it straight.

My name is Gil- pronounced

Heal

Or

Heel

NOT Hill

NOT Gill

Is that clear?

My friend, you seemed very confused!

Don’t worry I forgive you. Mispronouncing my name is not really a big sin!

After all,

“What’s in a name?” Shakespeare said!

“Call a rose another name and it will smell the same.”

Have a nice day!