Calidad humana: The ordinary tale of an unconventional hero (3rd Prize, national essay writing contest)

In its technical definition, calidad humana is a person of noble character, one who is steadfast in his beliefs and more than anything, one who is cultivated in his values. A technical definition may succinctly express the idea of calidad humana, but it will never grasp the true essence of the word at hand. In my personal stance, I agree with such a definition. Indeed, a person of calidad humana is a person of deep character, yet still strives for an even stronger character. However, I feel that with a technical definition, it is inevitable that people are inclined to think that a person of calidad humana has to be someone “extraordinary,” someone well-known. When we think of an individual who has a great character and who is able to propagate his influence, we think of an actor or perhaps a president. Many of us fail to see that wealth or fame doesn’t make one truly great.

My notion of calidad humana focuses on the greatness of character in the ordinary. Calidad humana, in my opinion, transcends the facades that the present culture puts on individuals,the facades that tell us that the rich are great and the poor are weak. As opposed to prominent figures of society, I feel that calidad humana is best manifested in the ordinary individuals, such as drivers, farmers, or our own household help. These are people who don’t live lavish lifestyles, yet fulfill every aspect of being a person of great character and epitomize the heroism, hard work, and resiliency of a true Filipino.

In the same manner, the principle of calidad humana is finding greatness in ordinary ways of life and understanding that strength can be found in simplicity.

In my opinion, calidad humana isn’t necessarily found in one prominent person who is able to make a great impact, but calidad humana is one individual, that if everyone follows his/her example, can change the world. This is how calidad humana will be fostered in the Philippines and the world, through simple individuals who can collectively, make a difference.

ESSAY PROPER

A soft lightness in the breeze filled the atmosphere one chilly January night. The trees were swaying back and forth to the rhythm of nature and all the animals kept their young safe and warm as they fell into a deep slumber. It was approximately 3:00 a.m. on January 25, 1971 in a small province called Katipunan. Katipunan, in all its simplicity and quaintness, was situated in the Northwestern tip of Mindanao. It was an extremely remote location. One had to take a tricycle and walk uphill to reach the neighborhood. The area was a mass and tangle of exotic trees and flowers. It was in this area that a perfect mix of anticipation and anxiety overcame two simple individuals. One of these individuals was a farmer in his early thirties. The other individual was his partner, a simple housewife, pregnant with her second child.

After hours of waiting, a baby girl was born in the small shack of cement that the two individuals called “home.” The newborn marked her entrance into the world with loud and sharp cries. She was named Velia. No other sound was made that night, and the lives of every other being continued as usual.

Without a doubt, her birth was oblivious to the rest of the world. It was definitely no extraordinary moment, but her life would prove to be a notable one, a life that would bring an impact to many individuals,especially me.

The man gazed into the stars ,and then he gazed on to his wife and kids. He thought to himself that he had much work to do the next day. Indeed, it was a busy season for farmers and workers alike, but he wanted to dwell in the present moment, a moment of gratefulness and tranquility.

Time was a swift menace and the baby that was once so small and frail grew up to be a young girl. The couple later had 5 other children, three boys and two girls. The man questioned his ability to sustain his family. Soon, A painful realization struck his heart. He came to believe that it was impossible for him to send all of his children to school. Working day and night or even combining his spouse’s earning would not suffice.

Being the second oldest child, Velia had much more responsibilities compared to her siblings. While laundering clothes, she overheard an argument going on and so she came closer. “ I think you know how hard our living condition is. No matter how hard I work, it will not be enough,” said the father. “What if I find another job? There must be some other way,” protested the mother, but the man interrupted her saying “ Even if we combine all our earnings, it won’t be enough. Do you understand that?”

Velia curled her body. Tears streamed down her face as she gradually sank into the hard gravel. It was too much to take for a young girl. She was not sad because her parents were arguing, but because she finally felt helpless in a situation. This was a feeling so unusual to her because she was always one who was ready to help.

During the night, Velia continued to be bothered with the problem. The next morning was full of light and promise. Birds chirped in a gracious melody and the howls of dogs added to nature’s symphony. Velia saw her father and so she seized the opportunity to talk to him. “Father, I know we’re going through a tough time.” Her father let out a deep sigh, “It’s nothing.” “I’ve made my decision. I will go work in the city.” Her father gave her a stern look and said “ No! You will not.”

In the end, she convinced her parents to allow her to work in the city. As much as they wanted to stop her, they knew she was right. She was turning 16 that time and it was not unusual for a young teenager to work. Their area was one of the Philippines’s poorest. She was willing to sacrifice all this for her family .

The ride proceeding to Dipolog city lasted for about an hour. The scenery seemed to be moving so swiftly as if it were a group of pictures flipped aggressively . The air was humid, and the atmosphere was full of tension. The tricycle finally came to a halt and a woman greeted Velia. This woman was my grandmother. She entered the small bungalow. As she came in, she saw 7 children playing around. It greatly reminded her of her own siblings. My grandparents told her that she was too young to be taken in as household help. She pleaded to them and told them of her family’s condition and why she needed to be employed. They soon gave in.

 Velia worked to the best of her ability. Driven by the thoughts of her family, her work was always marked by consistency and excellence. She introduced herself to my mother and her siblings. She was always one who had an innate warmth and friendliness. She had this way of making everyone happy through her jokes and laughter. She was close to everyone, but especially to my mother as they were in the same age range In time, she was regarded as part of the family.

The great writer Miguel Cervantes once said that great persons are able to do great kindness. And that is what Velia was, a great person with a heart over pouring with compassion and kindness. Velia had one thought in mind that guided her throughout her journey, that good people earn respect. No matter how the current world polarizes people to rich and poor, the good and bad will be determined by respect.

It was inevitable that she had become extremely homesick. What made matters worse, She did not keep a single picture of her family because they did not have the luxury of cameras or phones.To her, communication technology was a barrier that only the able could afford. She would, however, hear of her sibling’s achievements and the state of her parents. As she was handed her first salary, she immediately had it sent to her home. Despite all of this, she never forgot to care for herself. She put aside some money for her own needs as well.

Years passed by and Velia was in her early twenties. “I am going to take up Dentistry in Cebu.” uttered my mother, in a voice which was a burst of excitement. “That is good news! You will do great over there.” exclaimed Velia . “I think you should come with me to Cebu” my mother asked in a gracious manner. Thoughts began to run through Velia’s head once again. Moving to Cebu would mean bigger opportunities.She would attain a greater sense of worldliness. However, as good possibilities were in her mind, painful consequences crashed her thoughts. It was hard enough to be away from her family now. It would be much harder to be thousands of miles away from them.She clasped her fingers together, almost as if she was in prayer. “The only way I can love others with such a great magnitude, is only if I learn to love myself first.” She felt that if she went to Cebu, she would go back to her hometown and share everything she learned. She wanted to look at the greater opportunity ahead, the opportunity to contribute to her hometown.

The waves crashed violently into the swaying ship. The clouds were dark and the atmosphere seemed to be cleansing itself with the pouring rain. As light illuminated the sky, the ship came to shore and finally arrived in the Queen City of the South, Cebu. Velia stayed with my mother in a small rented apartment called Sun Valley. Life was simple, and Velia pursued her work ethic which was one full of hard work and dedication. She never failed to impress. It was a different environment, but she had made a mark through her friendly attitude and incredibly optimistic outlook on life. She experienced many firsts in Cebu. It was her first time to be in a bustling city, and she finally exercised her right to vote.

My mother studied Dentistry in the University of Southwestern whrere she had met my father.They were soon wed. On July 21, 1993, their first child was born. He was named Anthony Gabriel . Velia cared for my brother like he was her own child. It was a whole different situation, however, when my mother was pregnant with me. My mother was overcome by stress and unease. Velia was by her bedside day and night. When mother clearly did not have the strength to go on,Velia filled up that void. As my mother was asleep, Velia would grab a chair and position it adjacent to my mother. A woman of faith, she prayed to God, but she did it through a conversation. After all, he was her confidante. She would call on the Mother Mary and ask to give mother strength.

Finally, on October 25, 1995, I was born at 1:00 a.m in Chong Hua Hospital. Velia handed me over to my mother. As mother held her first baby girl, a sudden blush spread through her tiresome face. My mother did not fully recover, and my first birthday was held in the hospital , but the gust of excitement and laughter that Velia brought overcame the melancholic nature of the setting. She always had a way of turning something hopeless into something joyful. She had a way of making people, simply happy.

 My grandparents arrived in Cebu that week and Velia received news on her sister’s upcoming graduation. One typical afternoon, everyone in the house seemed to be relentlessly drained. Velia, herself, shut her eyes taking in the silence and serenity of the day’s vibe. Suddenly, she listened to the sound of an external voice calling out to her. She lifted her eyes and came to see the figure of my grandmother, saying “I’m so sorry to disturb you Vel, but have you seen your Sir Nap? He’s been gone all day”. Velia said she did not.

My grandfather was nearing his late sixties. It was unusual for him to disappear without informing anyone. Velia mustered up the courage to look for my grandfather across a city utterly unknown to her. The gutters and alleys she passed were unnemerable. Finally, she went to Fuente, a place quite far from home. She found grandfather in a trance-like state, and what he said next shocked Velia to her core , “Who are you?”and “Where am I?” .

Velia brought my grandfather to the house. A doctor that perched outside the door was motioned to come inside. Grandfather was later diagnosed with the early stages of Alzheimer’s. His memory was utterly fragmented, and gradually disintegrating into an open vacuum of oblivion, but Velia eased the situation. She believed that kindness was a language that was comprehended with or without language or memory. The kindness she brought helped him feel loved and happy.

Velia’s tasks was more daunting. She not only had to do chores,but she took care of two children. Exhausted after a stressful week, Velia knew it was time to write her family. Words were floating through her mind as she pressed the pencil onto the small sheet. Although she did not know how to put thoughts into words, she did know how to make love emanate, always ending the letter with an “I love you”.

As she stood up, she felt lightheaded. Her vision was blurry and the world seemed to be turning around. She fell off balance and felt a slight pang in her chest. A million darts pierced through her heart. She held one hand on her chest. Her breathing was deep and wheezy, almost like the sound of a coarse whistle blown vigorously. She lost all sense of consciousness. Suddenly, a loud thud was heard from the kitchen. My mother quickly ran and saw Velia lying unconscious on the floor. Three people had to lift her up and carry her to the hospital.

In the hospital, she told she had asthma. You’re too fatigued. You should rest “ my mother said, and Velia nodded.When she was able, the first thing that she thought of purchasing with her salary was an inexpensive film camera. She wanted to be able to capture the moment of her siblings’ graduation, a manifestation of all her sacrifice and hard work . Her sibling graduated from Accounting in a University in Dipolog.

She began to rigorously pack different things in her bag , from candies to the books my mother gave her. As the tricycle approached the rough and rocky area, it finally hit her. She was here. She was home. She hiked upwards. As she reached the top, a hoard of children swarmed her. She smiled and entertained them by giving them small joys such as candies and goods. She looked up and saw the figure of the man who loved her so much that he was reluctant to let her go. She ran towards her father and immersed herself in his embrace. Eight other figures emerged out of the house and joined in the incredible reunion.

She talked with her younger siblings. They never forgot her, and they acknowledged the sacrifices that she made. They did not want her hardships to be in vain, so they worked their hardest in school . In her sister’s graduation, she proudly came up on stage and they had their family picture taken. She gazed at her family, and she told herself that she couldn’t ask for anything more than this reunion.

During the night, the stars were beaming with brightness. The strong gust of wind swept across her face and her dark black hair. Velia thought that after helping her family, it was time to give back to her people. And so the next day, she gathered the children of their area. Majority of these children had little education, or no education at all. Ever since she was a child, she felt the urge to help, and this urge was overcoming her once again. She described to the children how the city life was like. The buildings, the people. They awed at her stories and laughed constantly with her jokes. She removed the books from her bag. She told them stories, stories she learned from when my mother would teach my brother.

Her greatest cause was to tend the environment of her area. As I asked her what her hometown looked like, she would always tell me how pristine her area was as opposed to the bustling nature of the city. The serenity of her hometown was something she has wished to preserve. Aside from shedding her learnings with her townsfolk, she told them of how they should take care of their resources.

Whenever she would return to her province, she would follow the same routine: share her learnings with others, and propagate the warmth she’s always exuded. As she returned to Cebu, she would do the same. More than the knowledge that she brought to her townspeople, she showed them the same warmth and simplicity that she has always shown us. The ability to find happiness in grim situations and to always be of service to other people to maintain that aura of respect to every individual she comes across. That said, she was more than just an optimistic individual, she was a template to be followed by everyone, even on the opposite poles of life : provincial individuals and city dwellers.

To this day, Velia continues her advocacy of bringing love and warmth to people. She continues to strive to become a better person by learning from others. Children continue to swarm around her when she arrives and she still continues to share her blessings not only with her people, but with us. She still resides with us today, but her ability to change the world is unlimited.

The main thing about Velia was she was always there for me. When I had losses, whether it be the death of a close relative, or simply the death of a pet, she held on to me tightly and that made all the difference. “It’s funny how a simple gesture can completely change how we react to things” I thought to myself while reminiscing this. That’s where it all stems out of, “Simplicity”. Simple deeds, simple goals, that can change people’s lives in the process.

That was Velia and that was what she worked through, Simplicity. She was a simple woman with a simple goal . It was in her simple gestures that people found hope, and it is through simplicity that she will continue to shed light to other people, to spread happiness and peace.

I always thought that what gives balance to the universe is the dynamics of power, that the rich and the poor coexist. In her story, I learned that the balance of life is found in goodness. It’s the only thing that can counteract hate and despair, and the only thing that each and every one of us can emulate . This is why she exudes calidad humada, an ordinary person , working through ordinary ways but making extraordinary differences.

NOTATION PAGE: BREAKING THE GROUND: A LIFE WELL SPENT

Chelsea Angeli del Castillo

Home Address: 089 San Roque St. Brgy Burgos Lopez, Quezon

Manila: Avida Tower, San Lazaro, Sta. Cruz, Manila

E-mail address: [email protected], [email protected]

Mobile No: (0999) 581 0777, Land Line: (042) 302 5345

Birthday: January 6, 1989, 23 years old

University of Santo Tomas Faculty of Medicine & Surgery

Medicine, Sophomore

Dr. Graciela Gonzaga, Dean, Faculty of Medicine

School Phone No: (632) 406-1611 local 838

It is a grueling task to decode what a life well spent is all about. It is something relative and too powerful to be put into words. All that is left for us is to try hard enough to grapple the best words to provide our interpretation.

Calidad humana goes beyond the limits of race, nationality, and time. It knows no boundaries and distance. It is too abstract to be pictured by words, too infinite to be confined by adjectives. It is a question answered by what we encounter not by what we hear, by what we experience not by what we read. It is not just a measure of a person’s worth but more of the product of the quality of simple and grand choices made by ordinary individuals day by day. It is about the totality of a person which includes the not so good with the good. It is the smiles and the tears, the downfalls and the successes, the hate and the love, the light and the darkness. It is a way of perceiving things. It is about seeing heaven despite the hell, light despite the darkness, comfort despite the cold. It is a combination and a contradiction, for life is a mixture of black and white mixed patiently until a perfect palette is formed.

I see this kind of palette painted on the faces of those Filipinos that I share paths with. Those people whose faces I cannot recall, those Filipinos whose names I do not know, whose entire story I cannot summon, but whose strength of character I have witnessed. I see it when streets are flooded by mud, when prices are high and debts are increasing, when roads are cracked by earthquake, when challenges seem to be unending. I see it being uncovered by the blinding darkness of the night and the blurring brightness of the day. I have seen it on different ways and varying form, - little or small, grand or simple, ordinary or omnipotent. The path towards its attainment is not easy. It doesn’t happen overnight. It is a life-long process.

If a life well spent is all about serving this nation, then I have seen it on those soldiers kissing their loved ones goodbye before combating on a battle. For their love for this nation they wave goodbye to their families despite of the uncertainty of their return.

If a life well spent is all about faith, I can mirror it among those terminally ill patients that I have attended to. They pray for hours with their loved ones, even if they are grunting with pain. Despite being bombarded with the agony of counting their every second, they never let go of their faith.

If a life well spent is all about love, without any second thoughts I’ve witnessed it at home. I’ve learned it through my mother’s care and concern. I felt it on my grandmother’s touch. I witnessed it on my father’s sacrifices.

If a life well spent is all about dedication, then it is shown by nurses who spend Christmas in the hospital to care for the sick. I have seen it among those teachers who carry their work at home. I see it on those street sweepers who perform their daily tasks despite the rain and sun. I see it among those people who do their work out of their love for it and more importantly out of their love for those people whom they are doing it for.

It can be the ability to hear a pulsating heart on the midst noisy world. It can be a mind that thinks, a body that acts, a hand that heals, and a heart that cares. Calidad humana is a verb that is capable of being put into action not just by a hero but even by ordinary individuals. It is aura that radiates among those people who are not everyday given the chance to be someone extraordinary, but takes a grab of those every little opportunity to live a life more than ordinary.

Truly, no words can fully define what calidad humana is absolutely all about, for each one of us has our own interpretation. Each one of us has our own gauge. But when all was said and done, one thing stands still. Calidad humana does not happen by default, it happens by CHOICE. It is a choice to do good despite of our everyday struggles, a choice to resurrect despite of how many times we have been whipped to death. It is a choice to hear beyond the silence, to see what is not visible, to understand what is not spoken. Calidad humana is a choice everyone can make, but only the courageous will dare to take.