Kabayan Bedspace for Rent

Ahh, the winds of change stirred again. Today, I shall share to you my experience when transferring flats or bedspaces here in Dubai.
As a refresher, I live in a big flat with my aunt and cousins so everything was heaven. I know the people around me, I have food if they cook, the kitchen is big that I can even bake bread, the living room is clean and huge and my bed area is comfortable. I can even work out in our room (I share with my aunt).
But alas, the day came when I had to spread my own wings and fly away from the nest. My aunt decided to go home in the Philippines for good and like a well planned change, the flat was not renewed for another year (long story short, there was a fire on the building ON MY BIRTHDAY and the management became strict with bachelors all crammed up in one room). So December came and I started looking for a new home. I decided to separate ways with them because I’m independent like that. I like to try living alone — which doesn’t bother me much being introverted and all that.
imageBoy, was it hard. There were a lot of vacancies actually, what was hard was looking a place with the perfect balance of cheap rent, proximity to my work pick-up location or even just the transportation, the size of the room, the number of people living in the flat, the cleanliness of the bathrooms, the size of kitchen and the availability of dining area and additional freebies if available. Yes I put them all in consideration. Being obsessive compulsive, I don’t like to live in a dump with nasty roommates.
I ended up with a list of forty five available flats, screened into around 15 (as the other ones are not replying to my inquiries and I don’t want to have business with those kind of people). I had to push my time around as I need to view them all and see for myself. I suggest you do the same because I swear to you, you CAN’T trust the photos. I even inconvenienced my work duty partner because I get late coming to work that I had to extend my work in the morning to make it up to her. It was exhausting. I travel in the morning then go to duty then travel again in the evening. I talk to them and use up all my cellphone load, get lost around and then rush to my work. And with all those efforts, I drop-in only for 5 minutes to look around and inquire and in the end, slash them off the list. I just keep telling myself that I know I will find a home in the end and everything will come to an end.
Alas, December 24, I transferred my things to my new home.
It was a new building, decent house fairly clean room. That’s when I first viewed it.

When I had actually transferred, my bubble burst.

To begin with, the room started to feel crammed when other boarders started coming in with their own cabinets and luggages and things. One of my roommates came from Mars and does not know the meaning of respect to fellow sleeping roommates. The bathroom and kitchen usage wasn’t a problem, I can use anytime I want, but the cleanliness was. I had to clean the entire bathroom on my third day just because I can’t stand the filth anymore AND I bought my own cleaning materials. YUP, Talk about martyrdom. I just told myself, well, I’m lucky God blessed me with extra money to spend so why not make the sacrifice. It was no big deal. The only problem was it was hard for them to maintain the cleanliness. The owners of the flat wasn’t too big on cleaning the kitchen as well so sometimes dirty plates and utensils are left behind attracting roaches. We have a LOT of roaches in this flat and we also have bedbugs now. We tried to tell them the problems we have but the owners were busy with their agency business so they get forgotten most of the time. Speaking of agency business, the house maids they employ from the Philippines stay in this flat as well so it’s noisy and overcrowded most of the time. Sleep is hard to come by when I have my night duty because not only the people inside the room are noisy, but the ones in the living room as well. Shouting around and banging doors. If I haven’t told you yet, this is the right time to tell you that I am sensitive to noise and I’m a light sleeper so what a fantastic combination.
A month had passed now and I had just posted a note on our door to please not slam the doors. The Bathroom will get a schedule of cleaning next time, when I get fed up with picking up hair of my nasty roommates.
I’m just really waiting for The Boyfriend to arrive so we can transfer to a new place. I’m getting to the end of my thread. I don’t want to snap.
To counter all those negative vibrations, I fixed up my space nice and pretty, because well, that’s what I do best. So here’s my little sanctuary in the middle of my crazy sad OFW life.
I hope you have a better experience looking for and living in your new home. :)

image

My room in the Philippines VS. My “room” in Dubai

We can do this!
Cerrise,

 

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Lupain ng Ginto’t Bulaklak

Bihira ako mag post tungkol sa Politics kasi, sa totoo lang, mas may gamit pa ang oras ko sa pag ta-type kung magsusulat ako ng tungkol sa patatas, pero dahil nabasa ko ito ngayon sa aking newsfeed: 7 Afghan men found guilty of rape, sentenced to death in less than three hours at nakita ko sa Comments Section na halos lahat ay sinasabing gusto nilang ibalik ang Death Penalty sa Pilipinas kaya naisipan kong ibahagi sa lahat ang naiisip ko at baka sakaling may makabasa.

Ito ang comment ko: 

I support death penalty pero hindi pa handa ang Pilipinas para dito. Para kang nag abot ng kutchilyo sa bata. Bulok na justice system + Death penalty = disaster. Pera lang, pwede nang ipapatay ang isang inosente.

Sige, simulan natin ang usapang Politics si isang kwento.

Si Pedro.
Si Pedro ay mayaman. Si Pedro ay gumawa ng kasalanan. Nagpaulan si Pedro ng pera para magmukang si Juan ang may kasalanan. Dahil sa Death Penalty, na-lethal injection si Juan. Si Juan na walang ka malay-malay habang si Pedro ay nanatiling mayaman at malaya sa taas ng puno. Oo, si Pedro ay isang unggoy.

Ayon sa obserbasyon ko, hindi pa developed and justice system ng Pilipinas. Ni hindi nga mahuli yung mga gumagawa ng simpleng krimen na hindi naman nagtatago e, paano pa yung mga krimen na kailangan pang i-solve?

Simplehan nalang natin ha?

Nakapaglakad ka na ba sa Quiapo o sa Divisoria? Tingin mo ba legal ang Pirated CDs? Ito ay pagnanakaw.
Nakapaglakad ka na ba sa kahabaan ng Recto? Tingin mo ba legal ang pagbebenta ng mga Diploma at IDs? Ito ay fraud.

Pero bakit andyan pa din sila na tila kampante na parang pandesal lang ang tinitinda? Ilang taon na ang nakalipas, pero bakit itong mga simpleng bagay lamang na ito ay hindi makontrol? Wala bang nagagawi na Pulis dun? Hindi na ako magugulat kung isang araw, inilalako na din sa bangketa ang bawal na gamot at ang mga tao ay pikit mata na lang na padaan-daan sa harap nito.

Bakit kamo ganito? Simulan natin sa baba paakyat sa ugat ng problema.

1. Bakit madaming krimen sa Pilipinas?

Kahit madaming walang kwentang batas ang naiisip ng mga mambabatas natin ngayon tulad ng “anti-selfie” bill, madami pa din ang magagandang batas sa Pilipinas. Ang problema, hindi nirerespeto ng mga tao ang batas. Walang paki-alam ang mga tao sa batas. 

Eh ano kung may bawal magtapon dito? Eh ano kung bawal sumakay dito? Okay lang yan, wala namang nanghuhuli e!”

Kung ihahambing natin ang ating bansa sa isang bahay, ang gobyerno ang mga magulang at ang mga mamamayan ang mga anak, at nagbigay ng rule ang mga magulang na bawal magtakbuhan sa loob ng bahay pero kahit magtakbuhan ang mga bata ay hindi nila ito pinapansin kahit mali, ano sa tingin ninyo ang matututunan ng mga bata? 

 

2. E bakit walang takot ang mga tao sa batas?

Ayon sa pagkakatanda ko sa napag-aralan ko nuon sa eskwelahan, nahahati ang gobyerno ng Pilipinas sa tatlo. May taga-gawa ng batas, may tagapagpatupad ng batas, at may tagabigay ng parusa sa mga hindi susunod sa batas. Mamaya natin mapapagusapan ang mga taga gawa at tagapagpatupad ng batas, dun tayo sa tagapagbigay hustisya.

Bakit ba traffic? Maraming gung-gong na driver.
Bakit madaming gung-gong na driver? Under the table lang ang pagbili ng Driver’s License.
Bakit madaming sumusuway sa batas trapiko? Naabutan ng pang miryenda ang mga nagbabantay.

Bakit madaming narerape? Madaming Pilipino ang luto na ang utak sa droga.
Bakit madaming pilipino ang lulong sa droga? Pwedeng bilhin ang droga na parang candy sa tabi.
Bakit madaming nagaabutan sa madilim na eskinita ng maliliit na bilot ng foil? May porsyento ang mga humuhuli mula sa kataas-taasang tagabilot ng foil.

Tama o mali?

Sa ibang bansa, hindi nababayaran ang pulis, once na magbigay ka ng idea na magbibigay ka ng pera, lalo ka nilang kakaladkarin sa presinto. Sa ibang bansa, takot ang tao sa mga pulis, sa atin kasi, paano mo nga naman kakatakutan ang mga taong hindi mo kayang irespeto? Paano mo irerespeto ang buong kapulisan kung maya’t maya may madadaanan ka sa kalsadang ibang Pulis na tila caterpillar sa bigat ng katawan at bagal kumilos, nakaupo sa lilim at nagaabang ng sasakyan na mahihingan ng pang miryenda. Oo, unfair sa lahat ng Pulis na malinis. Ang buong kapulisan mula sa kataas taasan hanggang sa pinakababa, sila ang dapat nag poprotekta sa mga mamamayan. Sila ang takbuhan pag may nangyaring krimen. Dapat maramdaman mo na kampante ka at safe ka pag mayroong mga Pulis na nakakalat sa kalsada. 
Paano matatakot ang isang tao na gumawa ng krimen kung wala namang humuhuli sa kanila at kung mahuli man ay makakabayad at kung hindi man ay aabutin ng dekada bago maparusahan?

So far, may punto ba ako o wala? Kund nandito ka pa at nagbabasa, samahan mo ako sa aking huling ideya.

3. Bakit ganito ang ating mga “leader” na dapat sana ay nagaasikaso para maluwag at maganda ang takbo ng sistema?

Sinisisi ko ang mga eskwelahan dito. Oo. 

Nagmula ang lahat ng problemang ito dahil sa pagboto nating nung elementary at high school ng class officers.
Second day of the school year, kailangan na agad bumoto ng President, Vice President, Secretary, Treasurer, P.R.O, Sgt. at Arms at Muse?

Anong malay ko kung sino ang iboboto ko? Ni hindi ko nga kilala kalahati ng klase e.
Sino bang kadalasang na-nonominate?
Inonominate kasi gustong asarin. Inonominate kasi mukang matalino. Inonominate kasi madaming kaibigan e.

Sinong mananalo?
Sa pagtataas ng kamay at pagbibilang ng boto at ilang estudyanteng nagkakantchawan, mapapataas ka ng kamay kung kasama ka sa minority. Wala, para lang hindi ka maiba. Kasi mukang tiyak na ang panalo ng kandidato e, kaya dun ka na lang. Kasi, pag hindi ka nakitang nagtaas ng kamay mo, baka mapag-initan ka at lagi kang maisulat sa noisy. 

President, yung mukang nerd. Tutal yun ang laging uutusan ng teacher at mamoroblema sa klase, with matching iyak at walk-out. Vice President yung hindi ganun ka sikat kaya natalo ng President, ayus lang din kasi sa tingin ko sila ang pinka chill sa lahat ng officers at taga kunsensya lang pag nag walk-out yung President. Secretary naman, basta maganda ang handwriting kasi siya ang laging uutusan ng teacher magsulat ng lesson sa board. Pag siga, makulit o kinatatakutan, Treasurer agad para walang makatakas sa ambagan ng class fund. Pag malakas ang boses, P.R.O. At kung sino pang pinakamagulo at maingay, ayun ang nagiging Sgt. at Arms. Sila kasi yung mga kwelang class clowns, at siyempre, paano ka sisitahin kapag maingay ka sa klase kung kasangga mo yung tagasuway?
Ang pinaka purong desisyon lang ata sa Class Officers ay yung nag-iisang role na hindi naman talaga “officer” at yun ay yung muse, dahil walang duda siya ang pinaka-maganda sa klase.

Yan ang sistemang dinidikdik sa utak ng mga estudyante kada taon.
Pag labas mo sa eskwelahan, hindi mo ba ito madadala? Na iboto kung sino ang sikat? Iboto kung sino ang mukang mananalo na? Iboto kung sino ang pwede mong gawing kakampi at lapitan pag nagipit ka? Iboto kahit na hindi mo naman talaga kilala? 

Monkey see, monkey do.

Tama ba ako o Mali? 

Simpleng bagay at tila nakakatawa, pero kung susumahin natin, ganyan naman talaga ang nangyayari sa Pilipinas diba? Parang simpleng class officers lang. Isang pangalan na madalas nababasa, isang pangalan na madalas naririnig, isang pangalan na isusulat sa balota. Kaya eto, eto tayo ngayon na dun nagrereklamo kung kailan nakaupo na sila. Dun madaming nasasabi at napapansin pag tapos na ang halalan. Kasi para maging leader ka sa Pilipinas, hindi mo kailangan ng magagarbong requirements. Mas madami pa nga atang requirements kung mag aapply ka sa Agency e.
Kahit tumakbo ka na nung nakaraan at napatunayan mong wala kang silbi, basta lumabas ka sa Pulse Asia at nag guest sa prime time TV, sure win ka. Basta kunwari kumamay ka sa matandang mahirap, mabait ka. Para maging opisyal ka ng Pilipinas, Kailangan lang, mayaman ka at sikat ka.

Ang ugat kasi ng problema sa Pilipinas, mas marami ang mal edukado, mas madami ang madaling mabili ang boto, mas madami ang madaling mabola, kasi sa Pilipinas, mas marami ang mahirap.
Sa Pilipinas, kahit saan at kailan pwede kang tumawid.
Sa Pilipinas, pwedeng magtapon ng basura kahit saan.
Sa Pilipinas, walang stop light.
Sa Pilipinas, hindi kailangan mag-aral.
Sa Pilipinas, hindi kailangan magtrabaho.
Sa Pilipinas, hinihikayat ang panlilimos.
Sa Pilipinas, walang iligal na droga.
Sa Pilipinas, walang iligal na papeles.
Sa Pilipinas, pera lang. Pera-pera lang.

Tatapusin ko ang post na ito sa isa ding kwento.

Si Juan ay isang batang pagala-gala sa kalsada at umaakyat sa mga Jeep para magpunas ng sapatos at manghingi ng barya. Walang pangkain at pampaaral ang mga magulang ni Juan noon para sa kanya at ganun din sa sampu niyang mga kapatid na nagsipag asawa na, kaya’t nang tumanda ay wala siyang makuhang trabaho dahil no read no write. Napag alaman niyang kahit Janitor ay kailangan high school graduate na ngayon. Walang alam gawin at walang barya para maka-kain ng tatlong beses sa isang araw, hindi na dumaan sa utak ni Juan na maghanap ng trabaho at bumalik sa nakasanayang panlilimos at paghahalungkat ng mga bote at plastic sa mga basurahan. Kalaunan ay nagasawa na din si Juan at dahil sa kamangmangan at kawalan ng pera, nagkaroon ng pitong anak. Lahat gutom, lahat walang pinag-aralan. Ang asawa ni Juan ay naglalabada sa kapit-bahay at ang mga anak, nanlilimos sa kalsada. Si Juan ay matanda na at madami nang sakit, oras na lang ang hinihintay niya. Kung wala silang makain, mas wala silang pambili ng gamot. Ang panganay na anak ni Juan na sana ay nasa eskwela ay napabarkada sa kanto. Ang panganay ni Juan ay nakapatay matapos mang rape nang isang dalagita at ngayon ay nagtatago na. Ang pangalawang anak ni Juan ay nang hablot ng cellphone at nang nahuli ng mga tao ay binugbog. Nang makulong at mainterview sa TV – Duguan ang bibig na sinabing “Wala lang po kaming pangkain at pambili ng gamot ng tatay ko”. Ang tatlong maria na anak ni Juan na disinwebe, disisyete at kinse anyos ang naguuwi na kadalasan ng pera sa kanilang bahay. May trabaho sila sa gabi na pikit mata nalang na tinanggap ng mga magulang nila dahil sa kawalan ng pera. Ang pang anim na anak ni Juan ay masyado pang bata para magtrabaho kung kaya’t bitbit ang bunsong kapatid, umaakyat sila sa mga jeep araw-araw upang manlimos. Ang pitong anak ay magkakapamilya at manganganak din ng tig pipito, at ang mga anak nila ay ganun din. Ilang henerasyon ang lilipas at tuloy tuloy ang ganitong takbo ng pamumuhay at sila ang bubuo ng populasyon sa Pilipinas. 

Fault

English: The "faille des Causses", a...

English: The “faille des Causses”, a geological fault in the Grands Causses, as seen from Bédarieux (Hérault, France). Français : La faille des Causses, une faille des Grands Causses, vue depuis Bédarieux (Hérault, France). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Can you give me the definition of a good child?

Is it that child that obeys one’s parents?
Then what am I?

I am not without sin for I have done innumerable things that others may frown upon. But as with everything we do, they are not without reason or thought.
I might have broken a few commandments, and I might be paving my way to hell right now, but even though I still stand with everything I’ve done, it still breaks my heart to be in this war. I never, in my dreams intended for this to happen. Never foreseen it, never wished it. But it did. And like with everything that has to happen to us, we can only just make use of the aftermath.

A lot of could haves and should haves and what ifs and whose fault? Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.
And it could have been. The worst part is that I might believe that it was, indeed, mine.
And now, like a lost puppy, I feel so abandoned. Not because I was abandoned but because I fought so hard to be left alone, that now that I was left alone, I felt..well, alone.

I was only asking to be left alone because I was trusted. Trusted that I know the right and the wrong. Trusted that I can do what I am supposed to do, Trusted that I was raised like that good child.
But instead, I was left alone because I was not manageable anymore and I destroy whatever is given to me.

I am not a rebel like what society had stereotyped. I might be a rebel in a way, but I still function. I do my duties and I do my obligations. It’s just that there are things that I purposely neglect.
One, was just to spite the people who wants to control me. Two, was just to follow me.
And turns out, it hurts and worries a lot of people.
The more I want to show them that I can carry my own tail behind me, the more they see me as irresponsible and worthless.
I don’t get the math but I’m sure there’s something wrong with the equation.
I could be because there were no open minded people inside the war. Not me, not them. Two rocks on a head on collision doesn’t equal into understanding. It equals to headache.
Like the one I am having now.

With this intense pain and hatred I am feeling right now, bottled here inside my heart, with only a blank box and a blinking cursor as a comfort, I am afraid.
Afraid that whatever stems from this is going to be ugly and uglier. For whatever urges me on and moves me forward to my goal is already ill. Afraid that I am cultivating not a dream but a revenge.

And that’s what moves me.
To thinking that maybe, I could do something to erase this pain and anger inside me, because I do not want to live like this, and I do not want to start my plans like this, because wherever I go, I’d bring this with me and I don’t want it. It is not welcome in my life.

But the past cannot be erased and I refuse to yield.
I know I was wrong, and I know she is wrong.
And unless one of us change her ways, nothing is going to change.
Well, the address of either of us, maybe.

A vicious never ending cycle.

Then,

What makes a good child?
Is it the one that obeys all?
Is it the one achieves all?
Is it the one that loves her family and dreams big things for them?

Could it be the one that obeys, achieves, loves and dreams for them but in a more quiet and introverted way?
Could it be the one that fixes up the mess and keeps inside her these things she can’t handle but in the end spills them out anyway because she no longer sees why she should care?
Could it be the one that felt her efforts were forgotten and decided to just give herself herself long forgotten credits where it is due?
Could it be the one that strives for the best, always strives for the best and gets the best without bragging it that’s why it never get noticed?

I wonder, now, could I ever be a good child to their eyes?

Reality over Functionality

An oil lamp, the symbol of nursing in many cou...

An oil lamp, the symbol of nursing in many countries (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

An organization is like a big chain. And as chains go, it’s as strong as its weakest link. I look around me and all I see are really rusty ones.
I know that there’s no use in complaining, and you’re wondering why I shouldn’t just leave. But here’s how I see it — If they’re using us, then I might as well use them. If  they weren’t grapevining, disrespecting, bullying or downright power tripping I might actually have some remorse. And I might really get in trouble for running my mouth like this but wtf, I’m not dropping any names. So, If you think I’m out of my mind, please, by all means, cast the first stone.

I don’t really know whose at the top of the food chain, but I’m pretty sure there’s someone behind a table not doing their job.
SO,  I made a compilation of stupid things I’ve heard so far. If any of you know the rationale behind any of these, please tell me because I am dying to hear it.

  1. Nurses must not clip their ID’s on their pockets. They must use ID laces. — Okay, I know that you must look really legit sitting there taking calls or roaming around the halls with your official looking ID’s but have you ever done CPR on top of dying patient with those laces on? Try it and tell me how it goes okay? To tell you the truth sisters of faith, some (more respectable) hospitals rule against it for the very same reason I have. I think you must re-think your priorities.
  2. White crisp uniforms. — Okay, okay, I get it. In fact, I love the idea of looking spankin’ clean and spotless because it represents purity, cleanliness and health. But to tell you the truth, the hustle and bustle inside a hospital, in addition to an accident with your IV catheter insertion really hits the spot in cleanliness. If you like white, alright it’s cool with me (forget those muddy streets on the way to work under the storm), but to forbid wearing loosely fit pants is really unreasonable. Please see my rationale on #1. And also, need to work! And for me to work and function properly, I must move. Why, for the love of gods, can we not wear scrubs at work? Operating Room nurses wear it. ICU nurses wear it. Why can’t every nurse wear it? What’s the big fugging deal about it? 
    If nobody  ever said anything, I bet we’d still be wearing nightingale’s long sleeved gown at work. Gods.
  3. Two words — rubber shoes. Why can’t we wear one at work? Some hospitals allow it, some don’t. Tell me why? I know we must be calm and under control at all times but I don’t think you can keep yourself from running for a basin when your patient starts vomiting blood (AND running for the emergency cart after that.). Read this: We need comfortable shoes for walking and standing the whole 6 hours of our 8-hour shift; we need stable and anti-skid soles which we can trust; we DON’T need, white shiny shoes. Those are for students. 
    Do. You. Get. Me?
  4. This one is my favorite: We owe you two thousand a month for this program, but since we don’t have financial funds for that we’ll just compensate by giving you seminars. But, oops, you must pay for it. — Enough said.
  5. Correct me if I’m wrong but I think my economics teacher taught me four basic principles of supply and demand. Nobody told me the 5th one:  If demand increases and supply increases, shortage still occurs, still, leading to a lower equilibrium price. – Welcome to the logic of Philippine nursing. 
  6. In relation to number 5, government hospitals in one given medical ward  can have an average of 50 patients a day. They have  at least 3 nurses for that. — Explain to me quality vs. quantity in 8 hours. We have overproduction of nurses! Haven’t you heard?
    But fug, why pay them if you can get them to pay you right? Why employ them if they would pay to be “volunteers” and do the same work as the overworked, underpaid staff? 
  7. This one’s for the nurses too: You aren’t helping by doing laboratory requests and prescriptions for your doctors. You are just training them to be irresponsible and you are just obliging to malpractice. — Yes, we are almost friends and we do like you and we do love to help you and as you fit every patient in your time table, but we do have a time table too and we aren’t asking you to regulate our IV’s or feed our patient’s via NGT or gods forbid, carry out your own damned orders, aren’t we ? I love this ignored memo on our bulletin board: “No prescriptions, no medications. No laboratory requests, no laboratory results.”
    Listen, you have your job and we have mine. And for the love of gods, please return the charts on time! We have 8 hours to do everything, don’t let us cramp all your orders for all your patients in two hours. 

Nursing is gold. I would like to think I’m here for the service of the sick, but I am here equally for the service of my family and future kids who might want food and education someday.

There’s this common path I think most of us have in mind.
Become a nurse, train for years and get out of the country as fast as you can. How I wish this isn’t the formula. If only I could choose, I’d never want to leave. I want to take care of my fellow countrymen. But in this rate, when I’m 40, I’d be smacking Salonpas on my flank and grit my teeth on how I’d pay my child’s ballet lessons

Quick question though, why not quit?
It’s because of this patient’s relative who told me that she’s glad to have me as their nurse for the day.
It’s because of this patient who genuinely felt relieved for the sponge bath I gave him.
It’s because of the “thank you nurse” I hear all the time.
It’s because of this joyful old man who’s finally wheeled out and discharged waving enthusiastically at us.
It’s because I need to suction the secretions of this teary old man staring at me with a tube on his mouth while a machine runs his body.
It’s because every time somebody dies, I have to be there, like a stone, cleaning after the expired patient and cover them in a shroud,  learning new ways on how to stay strong while all the while a wife, a husband, a mother, a father or a child mourns beside me.
It’s because I can’t, for the life of me, imagine doing the same boring job all day everyday if it isn’t nursing.

And that’s how I get to wake up everyday even if I hate how they run nurses (to the ground) here in my beloved country.