Open Visa

C2011-901687-7

Dedication

This book is heartily dedicated to countless overseas foreign workers and caregivers scattered around the world. In their pursuit of a better life abroad, no amount of discouragement and ill will can stop them from moving on. The amount of service, sacrifice and care they afford to others is immeasurable. They deserve commendation, recognition, and appreciation. They are, indeed, the new heroes of today’s fast-paced world and care-deficient society.

Caregiver. Nanny? Whatever!

Feeling so great, options out there are many

Leaving the school to the world of reality

Oh yes, here I come, observe, watch, and see

My passion and role, a noble responsibility

Countless kids of wealthy families, alone and crying

Seniors’ and retirees’ hands on the wheelchair gripping

Handicapped and disabled waiting for support and care

Where to turn to? Seems no one’s available out there

I’m your caregiver, nanny, or whatever

Hands ready to support, nurture, and care

Who else but me looking for your welfare

My passion, skills, and talents to offer

Diapers just wet, baby food in your face—yucky!

After years of caring, no longer a bubbling teeny tiny

Your mom’s away and dad’s working overtime

I’m always on your side, don’t you ever worry

Walking cane needs adjustment, bed sheets need laundry

Here’s your eyeglass, Granny, our bingo time is at three

Oh yes, sir, that arthritis and pain in your ankle and knee

Pop those pills down, just do it my friend, do you hear me?

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 1

Assembly time is 8:00. We have to be there by 7:45, Lily said while adjusting her shawl and gown. How do I look?

I can’t believe it. You look so pretty in that gown, replied Nora.

The gym was two blocks away from their three-story dormitory. The morning rush was so frantic—tricycles, jeeps, and even those nasty, smoke-belching Baliwag Transit buses were cluttering the narrow Del Pilar Street. A block away, east of the dormitory, was the Provincial Capital. As usual, both the front and back alleys of the building smelled of brewed coffee and the faces of zombie-like bureaucrats were everywhere, coming in and out of the edifice.

It was a special day for Lily and Nora. Tomorrow they would be graduating from the Philippine’s Wesleyan University. Nora’s dreams of becoming a social worker were finally coming to fruition.

What a noble way of helping street people, Lily thought. As for herself, her passion came from her mother’s experience of giving birth to her. After years of sweat and toil, today was the moment she’d been waiting for. She would be one of those heroine midwifes so highly respected by the expectant moms visiting their village’s delivery room.

The gym was packed with people from all over the province. The scent of flowers dominated the hall. Parents were excited to witness their sons and daughters marching toward their assigned rows of chairs. While that heartbreaking graduation march played, Lily’s mind had nowhere to settle. The little village clinic in her hometown was on her mind, and she was visualizing the role she played there as the savior of all birthing mothers.

Wake up, Lily, said another graduate to her left. Your name was called. Get up and receive your diploma.

From the stage, she clearly recognized her mom and dad in the audience way at the back of the auditorium, waving and wiping their teary eyes.

Thank God I made it, were the only words uttered while she headed back to her assigned chair after taking the diploma.

—

So where are you going to work? inquired Nora as they mingled around in the midst of the zoo-like gym.

I’m not quite sure yet, Lily replied. Mike is urging me to work with him in the Middle East, so we can be together.

It had been three years since Mike had started working in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. Their short-lived high school romance had been made even shorter when Mike’s need to work abroad became apparent. His family was dependent on the money he would earn, and supporting a family of nine was a big task for him. He was the eldest of the seven kids.

I suppose a month-long rest is enough time for me to settle down and focus on what to do next, Lily said with a sigh.

A friend of mine was telling me of a job opportunity working with kids in Mindanao, Nora said. These kids have been orphaned by the never-ending struggle between the Muslim separatists and the government. I suppose this is my big break.

Nora’s family couldn’t do anything about her decision. They had no choice but to allow Nora to hit the road. Her family depended on farming. Their three hectares of rice paddy was not enough to pay for her education. Opportunities were out there, but she had to be swift in claiming them.

As they entered the Bake Shoppe along Paco Roman Street, one of the city’s best restaurants, tables were ready and waiters were on hand to take their orders. Coming from a religious family, Ka Oscar, Lily’s dad, said grace over the food and everyone around the table started excitedly talking about everything under the sun.

Only the arrival of the food was enough to slow down the conversation.

Mike sent me an open-dated ticket to Jeddah, Lily said as her mom took a sip of iced tea. When I’m ready, I can fly to Saudi Arabia to be with him anytime. He told me about an opportunity there to work in a hospital near his workplace. I applied for the job.

He’s from a good family, her mom said in a persuasive voice. "Your tatay and I have no objection to your plan to work together abroad. However, wouldn’t it be nice if Mike could take a holiday here before setting your wedding date?"

I’ll call him tonight and discuss the matter, Lily commented.

So what part of Mindanao are you going to, Nora? Lily’s dad said as all their eyes shifted to the other graduate. Lily was very much aware that this was just her tatay’s way of changing the subject.

Cagayan de Oro, po, she replied.

The spaghetti was salty and not particularly good, but the thin-sliced sausages and clumsy red beans were delicious. The place was packed with hungry people of all sizes, shapes, and smells.

It was just about 2:30 in the afternoon when the tip was handed to the server and the group headed out to the graduates’ dormitory. A regular thirty-minute walk turned into a forty-minute ride on a tricycle, due to heavy traffic.

Their bags were packed, their bills were paid, and the place was relatively clean for the next year’s students. For years, through thick and thin, Lily and Nora had established a sense of unique identity in the building. At their age, it was uncommon to still be serious, courageous, and dedicated to something they were passionate about. Being away from home had molded and developed their characters. Now, they resolved to prove themselves in the real world. Their focus to survive, strength to succeed, and hope to live at peace with the community was evident in the way they dealt with others.

Their education had been just a tool to fully understand and appreciate life in its reality and entirety. Now that they were on their own—both showing a degree of excitement, and sometimes anxiety—Nora’s trip to Mindanao would be like an experiment in osmosis, a salt particle plunging into a tub of uncertainty. This was the vision Lily had of her friend’s upcoming trip to head south the following month.

Lily’s own planned trip to return home consisted of a three-hour drive from Cabanatuan City to Cuyapo. Ford Fiera jeeps had been servicing the outlying towns of the province for more than ten years and there had been no sign of any improvement in the quality of the ride; the drivers were more concerned with squeezing in as many passengers as possible than making the ride a comfortable one.

They stepped off the jeep to the sight of a hundred pairs of eyes excitedly awaiting their arrival. They were treated like movie stars. It was a village-wide celebration. The lechon (roasted pig) was crispy outside and tender inside. The day was set aside to celebrate Lily’s graduation with her relatives, friends, neighbours, and bystanders. Puto (rice cakes) were really tasty both with sopas (congee) and dinuguan (chocolate pork stew). People had to wait and stand behind the group feasting on the food at the table. It took almost three hours for every soul present to feel good, thankful and expectant of the next celebration in the village.

As they settled in for a coffee, Ka Oscar, Lily’s dad, a well-known and respected elder, stood up before the crowd. Out of respect, and most likely due to the calming effect of the food consumed, all ears were tuned to him as he spoke.

For your support and prayers for my family, and for my daughter in particular, I would like to thank you all. Also, thank you for coming and sharing with us this joyous day. This was the only audible sentence to those listening. Black coffee kept the people’s minds alert but unready to hear more. Nonetheless, he continued, Now I would like to call on a friend wishing to congratulate Lily.

It was unusual for this kind of gathering to have anyone speak who was outside the family circle. From behind the Acacia tree fifteen meters away, a man came out in a Ray Ban ball cap. He was heavily bearded and almost unrecognizable. It took about ten seconds before Lily’s heart pumped to its fullest throttle. It was Mike! The blood rushed to her head and her heart thumped as if she was experiencing indigestion.

"Siya ba and boyfriend ni Lily?" was the question floating through the crowd as Mike and Lily shared a kiss. People were astounded by the sweetness of their kiss and the joy in their teary eyes.

You surprised me, she whispered to Mike. You didn’t mention you were coming home the last time we talked.

I just wanted to make sure you had the most unforgettable celebration of your life, he said, his fingers combing the back of Lily’s hair.

Everybody stood still and waited for another scoop. The spark of their meeting was so intense that they forgot people were watching them. It took a while before Mike composed himself.

There are three things I would like to say to Lily, he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. First, congratulations. Second, I wish you the best tomorrow. Third, I love you. Will you marry me?

It had turned out to be more than a graduation celebration for Lily; now she also had to make a very important decision. Her smile and tears were enough to convince Mike of her answer.

—

A week after the celebration, Mike flew back to Saudi Arabia, leaving Lily with a hope that someday they would be together for good—if not in the Philippines, then elsewhere abroad.

For Lily, the reality of her life after graduation was unfamiliar territory. Her first week at work was uneventful.

The birth of her cousin’s fifth child, weighing nine and a half pounds, was the only remarkable and outstanding event. The community was happy and proud to see one of their own delivering babies for all moms, young and old alike. A sense of satisfaction and fulfillment was evident on Lily’s face when she delivered the child.

However, that satisfaction was short-lived. Her need for a companion, and the surge of her biological functions, was growing intense. She had Mike in her heart, but he was too far away for them to truly be together. Mike’s monthly letters were not enough to quench her longing for him.

I have to find a way to be with him, she told the head midwife at the village’s delivery room. The woman was both her workplace supervisor and her closest confidante. To gain insight, Lily brought to her the issues of her life.

What about applying to one of the hospitals in the Middle East? the head midwife responded.

Lily’s application had been forwarded to the Overseas Employment Centre in Manila. Mike, on the other hand, was busy looking for a job opening for Lily in the Middle East. Besides, the open-dated ticket was still securely tucked away in one of her purses. She could use it any time opportunity knocked.

In the last two years, fifteen boys and twenty-five girls had been delivered by Lily’s caring hands. Half of the baby girls had been named after her. The rest had been named using her suggestions to the moms. The appreciation and trust of the moms was so profound that most of them requested Lily be their child’s godmother, or at least one of the sponsors to their christening. Her name’s fragrance spilled over to other villages, towns, and even neighbouring provinces. People seldom heard of more extraordinary service and care provided to expectant mothers. She was the best. Referrals were flying left, right, and from all directions.

It took a long time before she received a response to her application from the hospital in the Middle East where Mike wanted her to work. The application process was a little bit strict and confusing. The moment she gave focus and attention to the process, the harder she found it to detach herself from her work and passion for the local mothers who needed her. The honor and respect accorded to her by the community was not only a motivation to stay, it was a passion to sustain. Though her income was not as high as she wanted it to be, the comfort, flexibility, and peace she had been experiencing was somewhat hard to ignore.

Also interesting was that Mike’s contact with her via letter, and even phone calls, was becoming few and far between. The usual thirty-minute talks they had started out with were now only three to five phrases in length. With the sparks gone, traveling to be with him was a big decision.

The decision to leave her comfortable rural life for an unknown, restricted, and culture-shocking environment was a perplexing and complicated one. Haphazard assessments of the situation could do her more harm than good in the long run.

Marieta, one of her client moms who operated one of the bakeries south of the village, was very cautious and open in sharing her wisdom with respect to Lily’s plan of moving to Jeddah. It was a well-known fact that Marieta’s bakery business was the fruit of her ten-year labor in Kuwait. She told Lily that her future rested upon how well she and Mike fared with their work and career in the Middle East. Finally, after her last sip of iced tea, Lily’s mind was clear. Moving to Saudi Arabia was just the first stepping stone to the brighter and more challenging life ahead.

She would go.

—

People plowing the field, women doing their laundry in a riverbank, and school children were not able to attend her send-off party. Most of the moms in the village were present and happily sharing with each other their most unforgettable labor experiences, and whatever anecdotes came to their minds with respect to motherhood.

Lily’s farewell speech revolved around her village life. The community was her life, passion, and inspiration for living. The community was where she had found the purpose and reason to pursue a higher and nobler calling. However, it was also in this community where she had realized that a person’s destiny was neither given nor accepted. She was fully convinced that her future was at hand.

With a sad note, she inspired the group by promising to leave a legacy to them—a legacy that the moms would never forget and that young people would always appreciate. If she could achieve success later in life, her visits back to the village would become a regular thing, footprints of something significant that could be built in their village.

Lily had to move on. She packed two traveling bags almost as big as she was and a carry-on bag with all the paraphernalia she would need to relocate to the Middle East. Her departure was a very emotional moment for her family, friends, coworkers, and scores of mothers.

The flight was less interesting. Aside from the tourists, who were comfortably tucked away in the plane’s business class section, the cabin was occupied by Pinoys—other Filipinos. So much excitement and anxiety were painted in the faces around her. For those who were returning from their holidays, the trip was just an ordinary affair. The food served was more of an exception than the norm; Lily was having difficulty remembering the names of the items on the menu. All that remained in her head was the smell of curry-based chicken served with sticky buns.

It was late in the afternoon when the plane landed, six hours after it had taken off from Manila. The horizon was lit brightly with neon lights. Jeddah’s airport was bigger than Manila’s. The forecast upon arrival was sunny and a sweltering twenty-nine degrees. As she had never left the Philippines before, it was too hot for her. The cleanliness of the airport was obvious, though. All the people around her were waiting with great anticipation for their arriving love ones.

It took Lily ten minutes to make her way from the tarmac to the baggage claim. Mike was nowhere in her sight. She had confirmed with him her flight number and arrival time twice. Her grumbling stomach was becoming louder, begging for something to eat—anything, as long as it was substantial. With her carry-on bag in one hand, it was going to be impossible for her to haul her other two large bags, which were coming out of the chute.

Where in the world is Mike? she murmured.

When she grabbed the brown luggage with her name printed on the side, a hand from behind snatched it away from her. Her surprise was replaced with a smile when Mike’s face appeared inches away from her own. She sensed Mike was tempted to kiss her, but he held himself back, given the strict laws governing how men and women behaved around each other in public. Talk was kept to a minimum. Though it was hard, they managed to act as if they were both newcomers to the city. Mike just whispered to call her later. Tears and a nod were Lily’s only responses.

Her shuttle bus was waiting outside. Minutes later, she left airport without fanfare. Traffic was not as crazy as it had been in Manila. After her shuttle was on its way, Mike headed back to his company’s headquarters.

The name of her housing unit was Rawalah, a women-only compound nestled inside the King Fahad National Guard Hospital campus. While waiting in line, she learned from one of the welcoming receptionists that Filipino foreign workers accounted for more than sixty percent of the women living there.

After registering her name at the reception booth, she was directed to proceed to a room where all the other medical recruits were gathered. The orientation meeting lasted two hours and in no time they were dismissed to their assigned rooms.

The day following orientation was Friday, a free day, a time dedicated to getting unpacked and settling in.

Now, what am I going to eat? she asked in response to her hungry stomach. She remembered Mike had given her a bag of food items during their meeting in the airport.

He’s so thoughtful. He knows what I need, she whispered with a sigh. She searched for more items that he might have stuck into her bags. Everything was cleared and accounted for—there was no more food to satisfy her hunger.

Because she was still suffering from jetlag, she needed an extra hour of sleep. Her eyelids were getting heavier with each passing moment. Her tired legs led her to the edge of the bed. The temptation to sleep was strong. The pillow and blanket were warm and inviting. Her only option left was to say yes. In less than five minutes, her eyes closed.

The alarm clock was set to go off at 6:45 in the morning.

Time and discipline were two important allies she had relied on for many years. Up she went to the kitchen and figured out what to eat. She decided on a meat loaf and scrambled eggs for breakfast. Once she was fed, she could think about unpacking.

After putting away her things, she decided to familiarize herself with her surroundings.

Before she could get going, her cell phone rang.

How was your night? Mike’s voice asked from the other end of the line. Did you get a good night’s sleep or are you still adjusting? He promised to buy her enough groceries to last her two weeks.

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud knock at Lily’s door. Mike said goodbye as Lily stood, walked to the door, and opened it. A young lady with a big smile stood waiting for her. Her teeth were white and her dimples were deep. Lily reciprocated the smile and gestured for her to come in and sit down. Without hesitation, they both went straight to the dining table where the remnants of Lily’s breakfast were scattered around.

The woman’s name was Mary, and she had been a midwife at the hospital for five years. When she had found out that another Filipina midwife was arriving, her excitement was intense. No wonder she hadn’t been able to wait to see Lily, taking fifteen minutes of her break to do it. Mary was staying in one of the housing units, Medical City, situated north of the hospital. Their talked revolved around how Lily could adjust better and faster to her workload and new environment.

It became apparent that Mary was to be her mentor for the day.