Clockwatching

I finally got my visa last Friday. Ma’am Clemen and Mano made me open it right in front of them, which made me more nervous. Because I’m paranoid, I had some strange fear that my visa application might be denied especially now that “Heathrow is in heat.” (Guinto, 2006)

Getting my visa has immense implications. It’s the ultimate empirical proof that it’s happening. Note though that “it” represents a lot of things. “It” means I’m finally pursuing what I have always wanted to do, and for that, “it” means there’s no turning back. During my drama queen moments, I always remember what Mark asked me – “aalis ka ba dahil may pupuntahan ka, o aalis ka dahil may tinatakbuhan ka?” (Laban, 2005). I can definitely solidly answer that question – I am really leaving because I am going somewhere. But the choices are not really mutually exclusive which makes me concede up to a certain extent that I am also leaving because I’m running away from something.

“It” also means face it, you have three weeks left. I thought it was sweet (and sadistic) of Nico and Pat to scowl and take it out on their plates when I told them that my visa is arriving that day. Although at this point, I still don’t feel separation anxiety. I feel tired. I originally planned June to August to be my bum months, but I ended up accepting teaching load and a number of research projects. Apparently, I haven’t been rehabilitated from my aversion towards non-productivity, even when I am entitled to take a break. It was only when Dr Reid flew back to England that my schedule freed up, but Walden suddenly flew to Lebanon and I was left alone to write the lecture on comparative historical analysis of Philippines and Chile’s democratic transitions. Good thing his pasalubong, as form of reparation, was stunning – a Lebanese-Palestinian scarf, which, according to him, looks great with a Kalashnikov rifle (Bello, 2006). Which is perfect, because there's nothing in my wardrobe that goes well with my rifle.

So here I am, dealing with my nastiest enemy again – time. They say time is a great teacher, but unfortunately, it kills all its pupils (Berlioz, 1870).

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Walden Bello, Email to Neeks Curato (Damascus, 2006)
Hector Berlioz, Memoirs (Paris, 1870)
Celeni Guinto, YM Status Message (Quezon City, 2006)
Joseph Laban, “Conversation with Mark Lim” in Mark Lim’s conversation with
Neeks Curato (Quezon City, 2005) [damn Palanca awardees!]