Ink Agimat

With this new semester comes a new chapter in my adventures as an Accidental American. The chapter involves a refinement of the track I tried to get on when I first arrived here, only this time I stomp the track with far more swagger and savvy. And to remind myself to stay true, to not let myself get swallowed by the American (corporate) machine, I armed myself with an ink agimat which I had done while back in the Philippines on a quick vacation. With the help of the inspiring artists at Republic Tatoo, I marked my skin with battlecry, mantra and story, my virgin skin a blank canvas for art to lead so life would follow.

Getting a cherry popped at 40 years-old happens with far more thought and understanding than my memories of my long gone cherry-popping days of youth. I came with a clear understanding of why I wanted the tattoo and what the message was, mainly to myself. And since it is body art which can be shown publicly, I had even thought of the public aspect of how it would work. I wasn't prepared for the magical trip Oman, the artist, and I went on to take the germ of my idea to a place I can righteously call body art.

Fresh ink in front

My brother in-law Paco, adventure, kick-ass photographer and admitted tattoo addict came with me, sweetening the trip even further. This body art-amulet-agimat of ink on my skin sits on the precipice of where I come from and where I am headed. It speaks all the languages of my bloodline and my spirit, taking a Spanish word and rendering it in the visual style of traditonal Filipino tattoo art of our inked warriors from the North, the region my mother's family is from.

I mark my body by saying "Si." Cutting through my heart, I say yes with one part in front, speaking just to me in mirror image and another part on the back, reminder to those who see to say YES to their bliss.

So fresh and still sealed in plastic

Each life tells a story, and everyday is a chance to tell a better story. This Accidental American, this woman of words is enhancing her story with image. I say YES to my heart. My heart says YES. Corporate America look out, this tattooed warrior is coming with her marks and her bliss.

And you know what, I think you're gonna LOVE her.

Joy and Sacrifice

The country where I grew up is one of many Catholic conundrums that resulted from the Inquisition. I am not sure how much of this is based on my interpretation, and how much of it is based in truth but I have always leaned towards the joyful, passionate side of faith and spirituality. The three core beliefs I carry forward from my indoctrination (eleven years of Catholic school should, in fact make me a master!) are: free will, love, and divinity in my own humanity. In any given situation, the answer to the glib question of WWJD (what would Jesus Do?) will be anchored in any combination of these three.

We are now in the Lenten season and Catholics everywhere are making sacrifices and pulling back from too much joy-making. I wonder about this. In many ways joy and sacrifice are two sides of the same coin. Here in America, the pursuit of the elusive dream entails a degree of sacrifice made towards the pursuit of joy. At its best, it comes with as joyful sacrifice. It engenders a deep sense of pride. And if we are truly honest, it isn't sacrifice at all, it is strategy. And it can be beautiful.

The promise of the American Dream has seduced many of my kind, the immigrant kind, to come with our own hopes, our own beliefs and yes our many faiths. We sacrifice the familiar for the foreign to pursue a better life, which means as many things are there are people who partake of the pursuit. One key difference may well be this: it is almost always a joyful sacrifice. It is almost always done out of love, for family and loved ones, with deep sense of purpose. It is almost always done by choice, lovingly and fueled in divine humanity.

What else gives a mother the gumption to leave her own to tend to another woman's family? What else gets a son through a long hard day in the orange groves when he could be an engineer back home? What else gives a father a deep sense of pride doing work other men deem lowly? Tough times have befallen America, and many are having a hard time. I cannot help but wonder if they realize just how lucky they are. I cannot help but feel sorry not for their suffering, but for this misguided sense of entitlement.

Where I come from, no matter what your station in life, you work hard. You don't take anything for granted because economies and governments never find their stability. You don't count on anything but yourself and the people you love. And while you need to be self sufficient, you know you are never alone. There is so much we can teach America, if she cared to listen. We can teach them actually, paring it down to one or two cars and just one TV is nothing compared to uprooting yourself from the country you love. We can teach you that giving stuff up for the benefit of family and loved ones is in fact more joy than sacrifice. We can teach you that you have so much more than they realize.

If America wants truly to be 'the land of the free and the home of the brave' then she better grow a tougher skin and a more joyful heart. When people make sacrifices in America, they are almost always guaranteed joyful rewards. Not many parts of the world can say this. Take it from someone whose country is ruled by lies and corruption in the hands of a government run by oligarchs who continue to enrich themselves at the expense or progress. America, the next time you think about complaining,I suggest you come visit my country. See what it's really like to sacrifice and do without. Then be baffled at how, despite the desperation, love of family and faith keep us joyful.