Here I Am

Here I am.

Okay, so it's not really ME saying "Here I am". But someone is. And that someone isn't just saying it. That someone is coming out. That someone is showing his face, disclosing his identity, not just to his family, but to the whole world, saying... and proudly, at that... "Here I am. I'm living with HIV."

It may be someone you know. Or maybe not. But I'm sure you do want to know who the hell it is. I did. So come in closer and watch with me...

I don't know Laurindo Garcia personally, but his name rings a bell of Fridae.com fame, for those who don't know. And now, here he is.

Here I am.

You can find out more about Laurindo and the Here I am Campaign on www.hereiamcampaign.org.

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How Do You Live Positively?

Meditate.
Smile.
Laugh.
Love.

Living positively takes a myriad of forms, from the most profound to the simplest. How do you live positively?

Show us. If you have time on October 22 or 29, and have P 1,000 you're whole-heartedly willing to donate, come and join the Living Positively campaign of Yoga for Life... an awareness-raising and fund-raising campaign to help YFL reach more people affected by HIV.









Find more information on www.yogaforlife.ph, and join the legion of HIV advocates that is Yoga for Life.

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Living Positively

Inner peace is found from within.
Seek it not from without.

Do you live positively?

Show us how.
October 22 and 29, 2011

Whether it's as huge as making the world a better place, or as small as stopping to smell the roses, you too can live positively and live well in your own ways.

This is a project of Yoga for Life to raise funds to support the training of a new yoga instructor from within the community... so YFL can serve and reach more people... because everyone should live positively and live well. Help us. Join us.

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You and the Youth

Last March 12th was unlike any Saturday. While there was a Yoga for Life session, I was excused because I was to be one of YFL’s representatives to a major major activity of another of the HIV NGOs. Youth AIDS Filipinas Alliance or YAFA was launching its latest awareness campaign. Entitled the I Am Positive campaign, it was brilliant because the heavens know the thought of such a concept had crossed my mind already before. And to see it, albeit not my own doing, made me think, “Damn, brilliant!”

So Saturday morning, I was on my way to Manila Grand Opera Hotel, the venue of the event. I had it all planned out, having searched for its exact location, mapping my route, plotting my schedule. But I needed to make drastic changes to my travel at the last minute, as non-operational LRT stations botched my plans. Ergo, I was late. Well, not so bad, just about 10 minutes. So I guess you can say I was fashionably late.

Getting there, I saw some familiar faces. A long-time-no-see pozzie friend, Juan dela Cruz, greeted me as I entered. Saw a number of YAFA peeps, who I’d gotten acquainted with as fellow Yoga for Lifers. A number of other people I knew from other NGOs and government agencies. Even the UNICEF lady who E and I worked with for the Power Of You campaign in Subic and Cebu was there.

Checking out the programme, a number of other familiar faces would be there. Performing would be Nyoy Volante and my ever favorite Kung-Ako-Na-Lang-Sana girl, Bituin Escalante. Whoa. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I knew Congressman Revilla was to be guest of honor. I had been jokingly wondering which Revilla it was. I swear, I didn’t know. Tina Revilla? Not exactly the politician type. Bong Revilla? Isn’t he a senator now? Jolo Revilla? He’s too busy with showbiz. I jokingly wondered if it was Lani Mercado-Revilla. Sure enough, it was. She never struck me as a Revilla, because she was always known as Lani Mercado.

I didn’t know that she was into HIV issues. I was told she was an advocate, rightfully so since she is mother to confirmedly sexually active kids. If we recall, her son Jolo sired a son with the daughter of Rosanna Roces, out of wedlock and at such a young age. And then her other child, a daughter, was pregnant at age 16. Hmm. Sounded good, if only she wasn’t feeling important enough to be more than an hour late for the event. Oh well. Might be Noynoy’s fault for banning the indiscriminate use of sirens.

So anyways, the event began late still without Ms. Revilla, with speeches from the head of YAFA, and representatives of UNICEF and UNFPA going ahead. I think the most common thing about all the speeches were the reason behind the campaign. Statistics saying the Philippines is one of only seven countries with an alarming rise in HIV cases were cited as reasons. I don’t know. For me, the rising rates still just say that more people are having the guts to get tested, which isn’t exactly a bad thing.

Up next, another huge part of the event, was the launch of YAFA’s Youth Ambassadors. Consisting of individuals in their 20s and below, this was a group that would be roaming the Philippines to spread education and awareness on HIV issues to their fellow youths.

A hefty group of seventeen, it was astoundingly a mixed group. Genders? Males and females. Sexual orientations? Straight, gay and bi. Regions? Metro Manila, Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao. At-risk groups? MSM (men who have sex with men), IDU (injecting drug users) and F/MSW (sex workers). HIV statuses? Positive and negative. Just really all sorts were represented in the 17 individuals. I guess the only common thing was that they were all youths. Precisely, Youth Ambassadors.

Finally, the time came for Congresswoman Revilla to take the podium. She started off well, citing the reason for her concern, and using her own kids as examples. But then her speech took a turn… for the worse. As she bombarded us with statistics and research, I noticed she began delving into data about condoms being ineffective, condoms having holes bigger than the HIV virus, and condoms encouraging promiscuity. I needed to refresh myself, what event was this again?

In a while, she made it clear. She was against the Reproductive Health Bill, and was going the path of promoting an Abstinence-Only campaign. So what in hell’s name was she doing here? I have no idea.

Seriously, Ms. Revilla? Are you not aware that at least two of your own children have taken the risk? Have you even had them tested for HIV? Don’t tell me that a condom appeared in their dreams and persuaded them to have sex? Oi, you’ve been starring in too many fictional stories… or maybe had too many doses of anesthetics.

At the end of her speech, I did not clap. I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who reacted violently. I know at least one other person wanted to speak to her before she left. But she didn’t accept the confrontation, asking the person to e-mail his thoughts to her. Yes, she left the event right after lunch, missing out on the open forum. I smelled the fear. Anywho, as the good congresswoman fled, so did the antagonism.

So instead, the concerns with her speech were flung at the Youth Ambassadors at the open forum, to which they answered that they would still be promoting all forms of awareness and education on prevention measures, condoms and all. That was good to hear.

While sadly not all of the seventeen Youth Ambassadors were there, it was a good representation. There was a performer, a pharmacist, a nurse, and a med student among the eight who were there.

I guess my biggest concern with the Youth Ambassadors would be how committed and capable they are to live the I Am Positive campaign. I do know one Ambassador chose against joining the press conference/open forum because he wasn’t ready for or into that sort of thing. He was also concerned about his fellow Ambassadors who were disclosing their HIV statuses. Hmm. What’s an ambassador supposed to do again?

And the two of them there who disclosed their HIV positive statuses seemed they were still dealing with a lot of their own personal issues. It seemed that getting onto the advocacy bandwagon was their way of coping. Now I’m not saying that it’s illegal to be all emo and teary about being HIV positive, but then I wished they came across as more prepared and ready, and committed to saying with conviction “I AM POSITIVE” in all senses of the statement.

I regret that no one thought this up back when I was still classified as “youth”. Hehehe. Sans the Revilla incident, I can say the event was a success. This was, after all, just the beginning of the campaign. The real work comes as they face their peers around the country, and only then can we judge the success of the campaign, if indeed they spark a new generation of advocates in the Youth Ambassadors and the people they will reach. Congratulations YAFA!

You can learn more about YAFA and the Youth Ambassadors on their website and you can also find them on Facebook.

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Party Party!

Christmas. It’s here. Just when I turned my head away to focus on the flurry of yearend work, it ambushed me like it was no one’s business. It came faster than the MRT. And I snowballed with it as well. I was dreading it. All the stress, all the traffic, all the hassle... I was just really looking for ward to the break... both the Christmas break and a break from the Christmas rush. But it was not meant to be that easy. Christmas sent its advanced party.

I spent my first Christmas party with Yoga for Life. As usual, yogic stuff is far from the usual. The potluck was mind-boggling, it’s never easy for a meat-eater like me to figure out what he could bring for a vegetarian feast. So as I came from work, I shuffled through the mall and settled for some monggo bread. No meat in that, for sure. Rush, rush, rush. I made it to the venue with time to spare.

Not content with just partying hearty, we started with a short yoga practice. Then just as we got totally calmed down, our Yogi Bear and Babe snapped us out of it. It was time to party! I believe it helped that we went through the World AIDS Day thingy the week before. Dramatic as it was for some, it was an icebreaker for sure. A bonding experience. So for the Christmas party, everyone seemed game.

Game, indeed. Games, in fact. There was Paint Me A Picture. A yoga version of Newspaper Dance. Bring Me for items like a pair of underwear on your head, 5-centavo coins, and condoms, which, ahem, I handily got a prize for. And then of course, probably the most fitting yoga game, Twister. Woohoo for me and the four others who they couldn’t knock down! The energetic night was capped off with some take home gifts and an attack at all the meatless but scrumptious food. Kudos to them who organized it and the sponsors who supported it. This party just set the bar.

By that weekend, another one was lined up. Our work party this time. Not knowing people from our sister company, the tacky cowboy theme, the required production number, and the 3:00 pm start all made me less enthusiastic, honestly. But it was something I wouldn’t be allowed to pass up, but only because I got assigned to be the host... Geez, I know, this is the 2nd year in a row that they’ve gone for this admittedly anti-social host... Oi. So I gathered all the kapal-muks I had, borrowed a cowboy hat from my hubby, practiced a dance, and prepared early, and I was good to go.

With ceremonies like a wish balloon release, a holy mass, and photo ops with our big boss, this was certainly more formal that I’d need. I don’t know what happens, but I get drowned in shame and stage fright, and then I turn into a host. Go figure. I don’t know what exactly it takes, but I watch my words somehow, and just okray away, and voila! So with the exchange gift, variety show, raffle, a couple of shots of something I don’t know, and an abundance of my most favorite food, the party actually wasn’t so bad.

Next on the calendar was a couple of parties and gatherings at the RITM. Now these were the ones I was least enthusiastic about. The record of seemingly soulless partying of recent past. The threat of nega-monsters. Having work. The distance. The sleepover. Having to leave the Lil Bastard behind. I had all the excuses. Even the attempt at making it “in memory of Papi” couldn’t get me to go. A no is a no. Sorry.

Instead, we had gotten into putting together a little gathering of our own. A gathering of my pozzie posse. I don’t know why I seem to get myself into it every time, but I was secretariat again. I’m not exactly the kunsentidor of the group, maybe the matriarch, at least. Fine, so I disseminated the invites. It was my pozzie family, "plus plus". "Plus plus" because in the past year, some of them have managed to get hitched or have their own pozzie babies that not everyone knew yet. So it was a celebration of a year since the original group first got together, pre-Christmas, and was going to be a reunion-slash-inventory. Hehe.

As a group that began with us northerners, it was but befitting that it once again come home to the north. So it was set, meet at the local mall at 6:00 pm. I had gotten confirmations, but didn’t really have a good picture until people started trickling in. Me and BFF GreenFrog, Trese with adopted kiddos Pozzieboy and ThisHeartIsStillBeating, O and his hubby, my grandson APositivePointOfView, W, BFF’s latest kiddo, another fellow northerner RecordBreaker, BruskoBoi, and two of my own kiddos. We were far from being complete, but 14 was an achievement, I must say.

It was a good mix. Some of us who’ve been years old with HIV, and some newbies. I really believe it helps to be exposed to others in the same situation but in a normal setting. And normal it was. Dinner at a Japanese restaurant, and videoke after. Not everyone was a singer, but singing was not the only thing there was to do. There was dancing, joking around, catching up, chatting on. I was so happy, that I wanted to be seated at a vantage point where I could see how everyone was having fun. This may just be the start of a yearly gig for us.

Just this past Wednesday, Yoga for Life went for an unplanned part two. There was a mix-up at the venue, which left us without one, so definitely, yoga practice was out. I was ready to head on home, but they thought we could make do with what we had. My favorite doctor advocate played host to all of us, twelve thereabouts, feasting on pizza, brownies and chocolates, and stopping for an educational yoga video.

The highlight of the evening was all the sex talk. With all us gay guys at our soon-to-be-wed Yogi Babe’s fingertips, there was no reason to be shy about anything, not even sex and all. We were curious about her, she was curious about us. Hehe. The taboo, with all of the laughing, giggling and roughhousing, really turned it into a Christmas party part two for us, and bridal shower part two, a gay version, for her. I’m glad I didn’t miss this one.

So there, deny as I may that I’m not ready for Christmas, the party-party mode has certainly taken its toll. A good one at that.

So let me take this opportunity to greet each and everyone a Merry Christmas! Party hard, party safe, party on, and just PAR-TAY!

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A Good Night

Last night. Saturday night. I got a birthday invite. Not just from one, but two people. A joint birthday bash. Two people I knew, and hadn’t seen for a while. This was the chance to. The perfect excuse to finally show up at a pusit party. Should I, or should I not? How sure am I that this is going to prove to be a good night? I’m not. But...

I don’t usually like going to pusit gatherings like these, mostly because of the possibility of seeing some... uhm... nega-monsters.

Nega-monsters. My term for a few pusits who are just swimming in so much bitterness that they’re just out to nitpick at everyone who crosses their paths - devoid of any wit, sense or reason - as though they’re perfect and actually have a hand in the lives of everyone else. Nega-monsters. Ironic how someone who is “positive” can be so negative. Ugh.

Of course, there’s a lot to nitpick about me, but then I never claimed to be perfect. But then again, it’s my life, right? And these nega-monsters have been out to get me and some of my friends. Not our fault, they just don’t have lives of their own. And I choose my battles, and these nega-monsters have never been worth one.

With that, I choose to avoid any possibility of encountering these negativities, not participating in some of these gatherings at the risk of appearing elitist, snooty and anti-social. I’m just not the type to care if others think that way.

So with this opportunity to celebrate another year for two friends, and the assurance that nega-monsters weren’t invited, I seriously considered and reconsidered going.

Saturday night, I found myself on the way up north, with BFF and O. After around two hours on the road, we got there, almost exactly on call time, but still early as just the second group to arrive. The celebrants were there already plus a couple of familiar faces. And as the rest of the group showed up, sans the fact of being an hour or so late, it struck me that that night was going to be a good night.

Primarily, there were no nega-monsters. That in itself was reason to party. Other than that, Ate showed up with some other staff of the RITM. Perfect. I always thought having authority figures at times like these will mean that things will be kept in check. Of the 30 or so people there, I only hadn’t been acquainted with less than a handful maybe. For me, that means a bit of a comfort zone.

A group of pusits who prefer not to call themselves pusits was there, but in all fairness they were the ones I didn’t have problems with... not so much at least. Mr. Mouth was there, flaunting his gift of gab as usual, but thankfully this time, not anywhere in my direction, so he was okay. Not a problem.

Another set of people, I knew from the empowerment seminar I attended several months ago. A majority of our batch was there actually. Some sort of a mini-reunion after months of not seeing most of them.

But really, the biggest surprise was the little pozzie posse I fell into since about a year ago. Roll call?

There were four of my “kids”; the first ever person I brought to RITM, LittleJenny, and RedAppleBlackMark, and my adopted kid Positive'sStory. There was one of E’s “kids”, who I surrogated and who just happened to currently be LittleJenny’s beau, making him an in-law. Some friends LuckyTrese, O, and BruceKho. Papi was there, as well as one of his “kids”, who just happened to be LuckyTrese’s ahem-ahem. And my friendly neighborhood BFF, GreenFrog, of course. I was missing a couple of people though, W and E. And maybe my “dad”, U, who technically is part of the family.

But twelve of us there made it one hell of a reunion. A reunion because it’s been a while since I last saw some of them. The only ones I would regularly are those who attend Yoga for Life. Other than that, being busy with each one’s lives has been keeping us apart. And quite frankly, I’m sort of happy that we didn’t see each other a lot.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not about me not wanting to see them. I’m happy because that just means everyone’s busy with their lives. Busy being productive. Busy with their own families. Busy with their personal lives maybe. Just basically being busy going on with life, sans the HIV-positive part. Busy proving that life goes on. Perfect.

But despite this apparent retreat from the posse, we still know we’re all just around, and we still love seeing each other every time we do. Sort of like we move in our own little circles but still gravitate towards each other somehow, like the planets to the sun. The bond remains, if not gets stronger. Absence, fonder.

Also funny that night, I realized that most of the posse I haven’t even known for a full year. But I’m pretty sure there’ll be more years to come. I don’t believe that it’s the HIV that’s keeping us together. It’s more like HIV brought us together, but it’s something else that’s keeping us tight. Jiving personalities maybe. The overall good vibe. Whatever it is, heaven knows.

And so with that, that night was indeed a good night. Even if I had to leave my little bastard at home. Even if I made the boyfie sad at the fact that I chose my friends over him for that night... he was extremely understanding but I’ll make it up to him. Even if I’m still reeling from lack of sleep right now. Even if there was that one parlor game that led to a hair-raising and spine-tingling mishap... not my mishap, but my hair raising and spine tingling. Even if, even if, even if... Last night truly, truly was a good night.

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The Blame Game

Yoga for Life has been going on for nearly five months already. Every so often, our Yogi Bear and Babe make it a point to survey how the participants feel, both physically and mentally, so in the future an analysis could be done to produce concrete data on how yoga has benefited the participants. Along with that, they ask for feedback. Now while most of the feedback is positive, there has been negative feedback as well. One in particular, that piqued my... uhm... fancy.

During the celebration of one of the monthsaries, amid all the fun and laughter before the yoga practice, someone spoke up. After congratulating the community on the success of the program, this person pointed out that he did have one piece of negative feedback to give. I was a bit surprised actually... and curious. Everyone listened intently.

Apparently, one of his friends - someone HIV-positive - met someone else at one of the Yoga for Life sessions. And apparently they got it on. They had sex. They had unprotected sex. And what made it worse was that the person he had sex with was among the HIV-negatives who were there supporting the community. Oh boy, indeed.

As much as I wanted to speak out - biased as I would be towards Yoga for Life, yes I would defend the program to the death - I didn’t want to be a proponent to any outburst. I kept my mouth shut, but my mind was ranting throughout the yoga session. Relax, surrender and let go? My ass.

Really, the point I wanted to make was... What was the point exactly?!

It just wasn’t clear to me how that was supposed to be feedback on the Yoga for Life program. So they had sex. Fine. But unless they did it at the venue, on their yoga mats, in the middle of a yoga session, then what’s the deal? Is the Yoga for Life team expected to keep an eye on each and everyone each and every minute even outside the confines of the yoga session? It may just me, but I think not.

So certainly, the issue could have been brought up before our Yogi Bear and Babe and maybe the rest of the core group. But to have to subject even first time attendees to something like that was unthinkable... not to mention inconsiderate.

And the way it was made to seem like negative feedback on the program was outrageous. If someone had felt they’d been fouled, would it not have made more sense for that person to speak for himself? But no. A spokesperson ranted on his behalf. So to me, whether it was indeed meant to be negative feedback on the program from the person directly involved was still questionable.

Okay let me make it clear. It’s not that I don’t care that someone was put at risk. But HIV is not and should never be a blame game. But if you want it that way, let’s play.

So HIV-positive got acquainted with HIV negative. Now really, should Yoga for Life have prevented that?

So HIV-positive and HIV-negative got it on and got carried away. That’s their right. But that’s their responsibility as well.

So maybe HIV-negative assumed they were both negative. Never, ever assume. Blame awareness and education, or the lack thereof.

So maybe HIV-positive assumed they were both positive. Still, protection is for everyone, even HIV-positives. And not just to protect their partners. Did HIV-positive forget about superinfection? Did he forget about other sexually transmitted infections? Who’s to blame for that?

So on that note, if HIV-positive really meant to blame Yoga for Life for what happened, on what basis?

As someone who already was and already knew he was HIV-positive, it can be expected that he would know all about HIV. So for me, if there’s anyone to blame, it would be whoever it was who gave this guy HIV counseling, whether it’s his doctor, his nurse, or his peer counselor. He obviously didn’t learn much if he actually thought he could play victim and blame a yoga program for his misfortune.

Actually, from the beginning, I questioned whether this was actually a rant from HIV-positive, or just his spokesperson telling a story adding his own ranting tone and feel. And recently, I confirmed what it was.

I initially didn’t know who HIV-positive was. Until, during a recent yoga session, I unexpectedly happened to hear something. It was a guy, telling his yoga friend, about how he hooked up with someone at yoga after he tested positive, and how that person thankfully still turned out negative after being tested after the hook up. I thought to myself, “So, it was you.”

It was interesting how the guy told his story. A bit cocky, without a tinge of remorse. Sort of proud, even. Hello, he told it loud enough for me to hear, right? Wisely, his yoga friend pointed out how there was still that little complication of the window period and how he shouldn‘t rest on his laurels just yet. That was the last I heard.

Clearly, it seemed HIV-positive didn’t get the full impact of what happened. And as much as I wanted to pull him aside and slap some sense into him, it would be counterproductive to subject him to public humiliation. And I’m sure if I took him on in a blame game, he would’ve lost.

I’m still tempted to pull him aside one of these days and engage him in a bit of counseling. But it will have to be done discreetly, as I have no plans of intimidating him, scaring him, or shaming him into oblivion.

My point will simply be... enough with the blame game. Take responsibility for your actions. Sex is a personal thing. So don’t even attempt to have a spokesperson speak up for you.

And a spokesperson too should know his limits. Stop spoon feeding. If someone is old enough to produce sperm, then he should be old enough to take responsibility, too. He’s too old to be playing the blame game. And neither should you take on playing the blame game for him.

This is a lesson that applies to everyone. Take responsibility. It applies even to safe sex. Take responsibility for yourself. Protect yourself. It’s your right. It’s your responsibility.

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Yoga Loca

It’s been almost four months since Yoga for Life started. Personally, it’s become a habit. Seriously. As in I haven’t missed a class since July, if I‘m not mistaken... except that one Wednesday session they cancelled due to heavy rain. I super duper look forward to yoga every Wednesdays and Saturdays. I actually have a yoga mat of my own now at home... shhhhh! So am I officially yoga loca?

I am now a true believer that Yoga is an excellent form of exercise. It’s non-competitive, so anyone of any fitness level can get into it. The only person you’d need to challenge is yourself. It’s very physical, but it’s about the mind and the spirit as well, so much so, that a strong mind and a robust spirit can bring the body to do things it never before could.

And I think Yoga for Life is a notch above any other yoga. Really, the sense of community is there. From complete strangers, there has grown enough camaraderie within the group. And the liberty with which lines like, “What are you doing here today? Aren’t you a Saturday boy?” and giggles brought about by a solemn chant concierto get thrown around tell me the group is getting tighter.

But regardless of how regular the regulars have become, newbies show up every so often and get the full benefit still. Probably the fact that yoga is such a personal practice helps, in that the camaraderie isn’t as directly important to the practice as self-discipline and self-awareness are. It’d just be abonus. So the degree of fitting in shouldn’t necessarily help or hinder either way.

As part of the group behind Yoga for Life - them more than me - it’s not a heavy thing for us, and it’s still a lot of fun every time. Last Wednesday, while lazing around our yoga mats, we were happy to realize that it’s become stable, and attributed our first quarter of “success” to the fact that we’re working together well as a team and actually taking the work out of “working together”. Yes, that definitely helps. And the good vibes we carry stand a good chance of rubbing off onto the others.

Recently our Yogi Bear and Babe requested some feedback from the participants, both regulars and newbies. I actually was given a piece of paper to write my feedback, but being considered as part of the team behind it, decided otherwise. Me no buhat sariling bangko. But for the others, here’s what they had to say:

• “Yoga for Life has been and still is a life and attitude enhancing experience. It makes you feel part of a community.”

• “It was nice, relaxing and de-stressing. Time worth spent.”

• “There really isn’t much I can say. I am just glad that there is a venue for me to de-stress with the little time that I have. It would be nice though if there are more sessions during the week.”

• “Yoga for Life is a wonderful positive influence in my life. Thanks!”

• “Yoga has helped me to start thinking about the healthy lifestyle and actually start living it. It gave me more focus especially when a normal day turns into a stressful one. It is a very good way of detoxifying...”

• “I feel more relaxed. My headache gone after the session. I enjoyed this.”

• “Since I started yoga, I never had fever. I used to have low-grade fever daily. I never felt so lazy or lethargic since. I feel rejuvenated. It makes me feel whole.”

• “Yoga for Life as a program has been helpful in dealing with daily stress facing and living with HIV. It helps that the community is so normal, even in the reality of HIV. It’s very healing and positive.”

• “All my stress and all the hard thinking has vanished because of this yoga. Love it!”

• “For me, yoga is good for my health and I feel good after doing it. First time I attended this class I told myself that I love doing Yoga for Life.”

• “Relaxing, can ease tension. Looking forward to the next session.”

• “Enjoyed this more than I expected. Twice a week yoga is becoming something I look forward to and prioritize each week.”

Even I couldn’t believe all the good feedback. But considering we used a secret ballot method, then they could’ve well given what violent reactions they had as well. I therefore conclude, yoga is good, good, good.

And yoga has been picking up elsewhere as well. Who else is into yoga? The boyfriend... Wait, did I just say boyfriend?! Whoa... Fine. The boyfriend has started working out as well with a trainer, and yoga is part of his regimen. I’ve invited him to Yoga for Life, but we‘re still working out some details.

He’s been ranting about how much difficulty he’s been having at yoga, which he attributes to his fitness level. As you know, he’s built with a little bit extra as of the moment, which really shouldn’t be a problem. At Yoga for Life, we’re always given options that adjust to our respective fitness levels, so one of these days I’ll try to teach the boyfriend (naks talaga!) what I’ve been learning from our yogis. He’ll get a private session with me... with extra service maybe. Hehehe.

But for those I cannot give private lessons and extra service to - hehehe - the invitation to Yoga for Life is still open. On Wednesday evenings, it’s at 7:00 pm at the 28th floor conference room of the Medical Plaza Building on San Miguel Avenue in Ortigas. On Saturday afternoons, it’s at 2:00 pm at the Echo Yoga Studio in Century Plaza Building on Perea Street in Makati. See you there!


Also check out our Yogi Bear’s new program under the Echo Yoga roster, which aims to immerse liberated men into yoga. Every Thursdays and Saturdays, he leads men stripped from the usual workout outfits and down to their skivvies, into a deeper and more fabulous appreciation of yoga. Check out Yoga Loca at the Echo Yoga website for more details.

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Shtatus: Shingles

Last weekend was a long weekend. I went to work Friday, but I didn't work. Huh?

Well, let me clarify. It was our company outing. Hmm. I know, a bit odd that it happened just as the rainy season stepped in, but hey, who's not up for some fun, right? So I woke up early Friday morning to make the meeting time of 6:00 am. I know, 6:00 am is aghhh. But I made it with time to spare. After a few delays, we were on our way. Are we there yet?

By around noon, we got to the place. A huge house with a pool, nestled in a quiet neighborhood in Batangas. It was three days of a lot of things.

A lot of food. There was a yummy spaghetti with uber crispy fried chicken. There was sinigang. There was a milieu of comfort breakfasts from hotdogs and fried eggs, to crunchy boneless bangus. And so much more. And mind you, some of these meals, our big boss cooked himself!

A lot of fun. There was a videoke for a while. All the vices available... I had a few drinks, not enough to get me drunk, and some drugs too, a.k.a. ARVs... hehehe. Games in the pool, from Doctor-Quack-Quack to Shout-A-Word-Underwater-And-Have-Us-Guess-What-You-Said. And of course, there was Taboo. Conveying a word to other people is hard enough for the socially- and communicably-challenged as myself. Add to that some words that you're prohibited to say? Agh, pure torture.

A lot of sleep, especially for me. My bodyclock would still wake me up at around 6:00 am, but I'd just go to the bathroom and head back to bed and sleep another couple of hours. I will also be the first to admit that I do NOT need a tan, so I made a habit out of sleeping through the sun, and coming out to swim only at night or when the sun had set. Teehee.

A lot of being one of the boys. I got bunked in the huge attic with all of the straight guys! You'd think it was heaven for me, but it's not like I was planning to grope them all, ya know. And like like-poles, each of us sort of repelled each other into our own little alcoves scattered around the vast space. Funny, really, but all of us were comfortable that way. Hehehe.

But by the third day, I sort of felt it was too much of a lot. Three days of isolation... I'm talking no TV, no internet, no mobile phone signal, even... it was driving me mad! I was happy, not bitin at all, and I found myself welcoming the time to go home.

Got home Sunday evening, hell tired, despite all of the sleep and relaxation I claimed to have had. But not much time to rest. Another Monday to start another work week loomed.

It was to be a normal work week, jumpstart-worthy, but normal nonetheless. Until... one of my colleagues at work confirmed a couple of red bumps he had on his chest to be... shingles.

Shingles. It's the nickname to herpes zoster. It's related to the varicella virus, which also causes chickenpox. If I'm not mistaken, this is how it goes: Basically and commonly, a person only gets chicken pox once in his or her life. I got it back when I was in grade 4, I think. Even if you've gotten it and recovered from it, the virus remains in your body. And it is a recurrence of this virus that causes shingles. So it's like only persons who have had chicken pox can get the shingles.

I don't know about you, but I think when the common person hears "herpes", he'd usually think it's one of the Sexually Transmitted Infections or STIs. Partly true, because a close relative of the shingles would be herpes simplex, under which falls genital herpes.

Okay, for the record, I've had herpes. What kind? The shingles as well.

I think it was back in 2007. I developed a rash around my midsection. Fortunately, my boyfriend at the time was in the medical field, and it didn't take him long to figure out it was the shingles. I remember he prescribed some medicines for me, and that was it. It wasn't too hard for me, nor was I worried. Mostly, I wasn't worried because he showed me he wasn't worried. We were still sleeping together on the weekends, and he'd apply some ointment on the rash as it crusted up and healed. No big deal. I don't even think my mom was concerned or was even aware that I had it. No harm done and no marks left.

So now, even after spending a day with my colleague who got the shingles, I wasn't worried. Even if we were swimming in the same water the whole weekend, I was okay. Even if he is actually my seatmate here at work, it wasn't a big deal. I'm sort of in the mentality that if I catch it, then fine.

Of course it doesn't help that I'm not able to instantly feel any itching around my midsection because of the burn in the abs that I'm left with after yoga. Hehe. But I'll be fine. When in contrast one of my other officemates broke down in tears worrying that she might have caught it.

So there. Actually, reasearch tells me shingles often hits people who are in their 50s. Otherwise, one's immune system is usually able to keep it at bay. But the immunocompromised? Watch out. I know a couple of my pozzie friends whove gone through shingles as well, some of theirs even coinciding with the time of finding out they were HIV-positive and immunocompromised.

Well, of course, right now - the immunocompromised thing - that's possibly me. But back in 2007? Hmm. That sort of brings the thought that I just may have been immunocompromised already back then. Remember, I only found out I was HIV-positive in April of 2008. So I wonder, could I have been HIV-positive already way back in 2007? Heaven knows.

So there. Right now, my colleague is on leave recovering from his shingles. My other officemate got herself checked up, and is relieved to know she doesn't have it. And me? Life goes on. Shtatus? No shingles.

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The Burn

My body’s been aching a bit these past few days. Hot. Burning hot. Why?

A room full of people. People grunting. People moving. I found myself surrounded by lots of hot sweaty bodies, with just a thin rubber mat separating me from the cold marble floor. I was in motion, with a single voice telling me what position to take, to tighten up, to relax, to breathe hard. From being on my back with my legs reaching for the sky, to being on all-fours with my ass up in the air, until I was lying motionless on the floor, breathing heavily, heart pounding, sweat dripping from every pore.

Whoa, wait a minute. Before you go jumping to conclusions... I was just talking about... gasp... YOGA.

So it was in May that talks began on having yoga sessions for HIV-positives. Paulo Leonido, a certified yoga instructor and advocate, came up with the idea. With the help of some other Positivism friends, we fleshed it out. Another certified yoga instructor and advocate, Charmaine Cu-Unjieng, joined the team.

One problem we foresaw was that people wouldn’t want to attend something in which they’d automatically get labeled as HIV-positive. So to address that concern, instead of it being exclusively for HIV-positives, we decided to open it up to anyone who was interested. HIV-positives. Advocates. Our medical allies. Affected family. Friends.

So two weeks ago, the very first Yoga for Life was held. I invited some of the pozzie posse for the pilot session, and packed a change of clothes for myself that day. Of course, Murphy’s law took control. I got stuck in a one-to-sawa meeting at work, and despite cabbing to Ortigas, I was not surprisingly late. I snuck in, but was too ashamed of my tardiness that I decided against joining the session.

I just sat at the back with my favorite doctor friend who was playing GRO-slash-host for the event. While we were quietly chatting (like that’s possible, right?), trying not to disrupt the concentration in the room, I watched intently as the participants went through the motions. There were about 14 or so people there, most of whom I didn’t know. What I did know, though, was that not everyone there was HIV-positive. Cool.

BFF was there. I’mNotDyingI’mLiving was there. Some others who I knew. Others I didn’t. And I didn’t even have to know them. Nor their HIV-statuses. It was a don’t-ask-don’t-tell environment. It was a non-issue.

Seeing everyone in action, those who were doing well weren’t necessarily the ones who didn’t have the pozzie-secret. Interesting. And as for me, just sitting there watching all the contortion that was happening, I was left sweating. And panting. It was daunting. I was scared. I was suddenly relieved that I didn’t join.

Honestly, I’m a yoga virgin. Even if I do believe I am pretty fit, I haven’t really been active lately. Nothing more than the walking between transport hubs and work and home. Gym? Nope... too scared... and insecure. Back in school, I used to play soccer, volleyball, tennis and table tennis. I used to bowl and jog, too. I even used to dance, so I think I can be pretty flexible. But lately, ugh. Yoga was the farthest from my mind before this. Oh, maybe sexercise counts?

So after that first session, being one of those who kept inviting people to join Yoga for Life, I was sort of pressured to participate. I gotta walk my talk, right? So last week’s session, I vowed to be there. And not only be there, I vowed to yoga-ize myself.

And so I did. Despite raising my hand when our yogi Charmaine asked who were yoga virgins, I tried my best to keep up. In the middle of the first part, I found myself sweating profusely, worse than I’d seen anyone do in the pilot session. I was worried. I took time to look around, and was relieved to see others were sweating as well.

Poses. Stances. Holds. Stretches. Points. Flexes.

From something as simple as inhaling and exhaling, to something as difficult as being on your back trying to swing your legs over your head into a shoulder stand. Very Kamasutra. Honestly, that was the hardest part. During the pilot, I saw them try to do it, and I said to myself, “No fucking way.” But last week, I wouldn’t let the session pass without trying it. I get challenged too, ya know! So I got as far as trying. I didn’t quite get there, but I got to the next best option, having my legs up in the air. Whew. I’m a proud boi!

By the end of the session, the meditation part, I couldn’t help but appreciate the time we were given to just lie on the mat and rest every part of our bodies and even our minds. It was a good way to end the hour-long yoga session.

I was warned by BFF that my body would ache into the next day. The following morning, I proudly reported to him that I was a-okay. I, of course, spoke too soon. By that evening I could feel the burn. I was reminded I had muscles I’d forgotten I had. Abs. Shoulders. Triceps. Quads. It was a burn. But it was a good burn. I missed having this burn.

So there. I lost my virginity yet again... my yoga virginity. I’ve pretty much recovered from last week, but not in time to join the weekend yoga session. But as of this writing, I’m already on my 2-hour fast and looking forward to having my second yoga session in a couple of hours. Is it really good for me? Feels like it. Well, I’m now officially physically active. And I’m happy... as always!

And am I ready to ache again? Bring it on! I yearn for the burn! ROAR! Yoga for Life, here I come!


Yoga for Life sessions are held every Wednesday evenings in Ortigas, and Saturday afternoons in Makati. If you’re interested to join us, you may contact our yogi bear and babe, Paulo at comradepaw@gmail.com, and Charmaine at charmaine.cuunjieng@gmail.com for more details.

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Self-Empowerment

Self-empowerment? A self-empowerment course? I admit, I was avoiding it. Why? Well, first, all the sharing and public speaking... stage fright galore. And second, I’ve seen the previous batch that supposedly underwent self-empowerment. Didn’t seem like it worked, not for everyone at least. In just the week after they did, all the drama, all the issues, all the arguments, all the bitterness, and all the negativity they were throwing around… even more than before... it made me skeptical of this self-empowerment thing. Seriously.

But thanks to being badgered by BFF and pressured by E, I got convinced to go. But I had a disclaimer beforehand... don’t be surprised if I end up scoffing and rolling my eyes the whole time. And I swore I wouldn’t cry as others had apparently done a lot of in the previous batch. Aside from there really being nothing to cry about, E would be there, and he’d mock me. Of course, I’d gladly do the same to him as well. Hehe.

So Saturday morning, anxious and over-packed as usual, I got schoolbussed to the venue with BFF and another guy by AA, who had attended the previous empowerment session. He told us about their experience, about the sharing and how physically and emotionally draining it would be and all... and already, I was dreading it.

This self-empowerment training had been done several times in the past before, but we were only the second batch since the National AIDS/STD Prevention and Control Program (NASPCP) of the DOH took it under its wing and funded it last month. Previously, it was just a philanthropic venture by volunteers and concerned people.

Getting to the hotel in Manila that would serve as venue, only E wasn’t there yet. The rest were already taking lunch. Passing the public announcement video system at the lobby, it was funny how the sponsors of our event were spelled out explicitly. Department of Health. Research Institute for Tropical Medicine. National Center for Disease Prevention and Control. National AIDS/STD Prevention and Control Program. Okay, a few inches short of disclosure, but fine, but no big deal.

We went up to the function room, signed in, and headed down to attack the buffet. There we found some of the other participants, my eldest kiddo, Lil Jenny, and PositiveEqualsRebirth were the some of the few familiar faces there. It was natural to stick to who you knew. The others were yet to be revealed. E showed up shortly, and we all took our time savoring the buffet of spring rolls, sautéed cabbage, lemon chicken, cream puffs and chocolate brownies.

After that, the training commenced. I’ll try not to make this too much of a spoiler for future attendees of the self-empowerment training, so please bear with me. Led by Doc Rita, who is incidentally the sister of our dear Doctor D at RITM, the session began with introductions all around and a getting-to-know-you activity at the same time. And then it got serious.

Part of getting to know each other was to come from learning about each others’ pasts. And revisiting childhood days, family life, till the present, including the time each one found out he was HIV-positive, was not an easy thing for some. This early, tears were shed. But the air of support, listening and openness we had was a nice ambience to be in for something like this.

It was then that we found how balanced a group we were. Though we were all male and all poz and all RITMers, that’s where the similarities ended. From newbies, months into the HIV journey, to not-so-newbies, already years past. From gay and bi guys, to some who were on the straight road or had vowed celibacy. From those gliding in acceptance, to some still wallowing in confusion, and even one intriguing guy who had gone through years of subscribing to AIDS denialism. Amazing. I was thrilled to meet my first AIDS denialist in person.

This first part took longer than expected. What normally took 3 hours for other groups, took us a record breaking 6½ hours! So record-breaking that we obviously stressed Doc Rita out And our record-breaking streak went on into the following activities. Enhancing self-image. Finding the power in you. Taking control of one’s life. Creating a healthy balance in life. Career planning. Appreciation of others.

So again, I wonder why the self-empowerment seminar didn’t seem to work for some from the last batch. Well, looking back after going through it myself, I realize you’re not expected to leave the seminar empowered. You’re just given the tools to work towards empowerment, and left with some questions for introspection. It will be up to you and what you do with them that will determine whether you get to empowerment or not.

And then, I believe, the foundation for self-empowerment lies in such simple things as openness, self-awareness and self-evaluation. If you’re not open, or are clueless of your concerns or what negativity it is you are feeling and what causes it, then the facilitator won’t be able to give you an objective evaluation of your situation. Am I making sense?

And finally… one last hunch. You know how being with certain friends makes it sometimes harder to be honest about how you really feel? Because they might make fun of you, or they’re fair-weather friends you’re only used to having fun times with?

I also believe that the composition of the group as a whole played a part. Having friends there is nice. But if having friends there makes you too self-conscious that you’d want to hold back information about yourself, then that won’t be a good thing since you won’t be able to paint a clear picture of yourself.

Our batch was not dominated by one single group... I mean, yeah, I was close to E, BFF, and my eldest kiddo among others, but we were a mere fraction of the 16 person group. Plus, we weren’t fair-weather friends nor the types to judge each other. We actually know more than our TMI share about each other. No reputations to ruin, no pride to swallow, no shame to dread.

So there, I think that’s as much as I can reveal. Empowering? Not automatically. But you should have learned something. You should at least come out of it a better person. If you come out even worse than you were going in… more negative, more of a drama queen, more issue-laden... then something definitely went wrong... or something’s wrong with you. So nega-monsters... check yourselves.

Two days, just 6 hours of sleep, a lot of yummy food, and around eighteen hours of seminar later, it was time to go home. Met new friends. Learned new things. Left with some work to do... on myself and on the world. Empowered? I will be. Definitely.

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The Cocky Asian

I’d been messaging with a European guy a couple of months ago, with him planning a trip to Manila in May. Physically, from pictures and descriptions, there was chemistry. And it was mutual, too. He liked me and I liked him. Sexually, we were a match. When the time came that I was convinced that he indeed was coming and that it wasn’t just a prank, I had to tell him that I was HIV-positive. Well, okay, I didn’t have to tell him, but I wanted to, so he could take that factor into consideration. I was prepared for any response. But I was hoping for the best.

I won’t deny that I’ve done it with men of different nationalities. I may even be too proud. I remember, during my pre-test counseling, that was among the questions asked… what the nationalities of my sex partners were aside from Pinoy. I listed them down proudly, from Asians all the way to Caucasians. Hell, I didn’t care about being thought of as a global slut. At least I told the truth, right?

So far, with my non-Pinoy conquests, the Caucasians in particular, I’ve had a pretty good record in the sex-to-HIV field. It just really seems that they’re more open-minded about the issue. A couple of them were okay with it, even if we had unprotected sex prior to finding out I was HIV-positive. They even made it known that they still wanted to have sex with me. Hmm, haba ng hair...

I think the worst reaction was from one American guy who went into panic. What if I am sick?, What if lose my job?, and I’d rather die! were among the hysterics that he gave me. He pushed me away. But shortly after, he made his presence felt again, apologizing and revealing that he was actually in a long term relationship with someone who was HIV-positive, too. I never did figure him out.

Even now, I still touch base with a number of foreigners who find me online and who still look forward to meeting, mating and more with me, even after disclosing my HIV-status. Potential meets and mates in the future. And knowing me, right now single and all, I’m game.

And so... back to my story. Last week, I was in touch with my European guy, as he shared his itinerary with me, laying out the days we could possibly meet. And finally, last weekend, the fateful day came. Would it push through? Or would it fall through?

I had to work overtime last weekend, a one-to-sawa meeting that was to taunt my pending date. With just half an hour to spare before our agreed time, I was off. I rushed home to freshen up, and zoomed off into the night headed for the guy’s hotel. I was so fast that I left my mom wondering what could cause me to pop in and out of the house with such speed.

Already late, I took a cab straight to my destination. I got there and asked the receptionist to buzz his room. He asked me to wait, he’d fetch me at the lobby. So I sat and waited. Odd. I wasn’t nervous. I usually am on first meets like this. Really odd.

I heard steps coming down the stairs, and there he was, the same as he looked in his pictures. He led me up to his room, stepped in, as we both plopped onto his bed. He offered me a drink as we got to getting to know each other. And as casually as we were talking, so did our hands start groping. One thing led to another... and another... and another.

Indeed, the virtual chemistry we’d established chatting, messaging and e-mailing were expectations we did live up to, kink and all. And with that, I added one more to my list of nationalities. Yes, I had my German sausage. The issue of safer sex was addressed by the fact that he was mostly into oral... making it relatively safer... and he was an oral-inserter at that, meaning he preferred to be the one getting blown... making it relatively safer again. Take note, I use the words “relatively safer”, as oppose to being absolutely safe.

But as if that wasn’t enough, he surprised me again when he performed some oral on me as well. I appreciated it, but before long, we turned back to our preferred roles. Soon, the scents of steam, sweat and sperm filled the room, and we were spent.

As we cooled off, we got back to talking... about everything under the sun. From work, to family to our motherlands, to his Philippine experience, and other stuff. Of course, we touched on my HIV experience as well, and he expressed how appreciative he was of my honesty with my status, and I expressed my appreciation of how open-minded he was. After over an hour of conversing, we were both ready to call it a night. So I showered and headed on home.

The following day, we were still in touch, and there were plans to meet that night again. The plan didn’t push through though, because we both took the time to rest for our big tomorrows… him for his early flight home, and me for the start of another work week. But at least the desire to meet again was there. Argh, the sex... ahh, I mean the chemistry was that good!

Was it the fact that he was Caucasian? Well, probably not that in particular. I’m not particularly what they'd call a Potato Queen. I'm just a cocky Asian. Hehehe. Although, I do remember an American friend of mine tell me that I was the type who matched well with Caucasians, himself included. Because I’m open-minded? Maybe. My dry humor? Possibly. Hmm, wait... mukha ba akong katulong? Just kidding... let’s call it... exotic. Hahaha.

So once again, I proved that HIV-positives can still have sex. Safer sex, but hot sex nonetheless. And I do believe it factored in significantly that I was not burdened by the need to be carrying my HIV baggage at the back of my head the whole time, and that we were both completely consensual to everything that happened that evening.

So there. Disclosure of my HIV-positive status isn’t exactly damaging my sexlife. Not even with those who are negative. Just the way it should be, with Caucasians or otherwise. That’s what safer sex is for. Hopefully more Filipinos will follow suit. Let’s prove that this kind of knowledge, power, acceptance, openness and awareness isn’t something that only Caucasians are capable of.

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Mr. Mouth Down South

It was a typical Friday. A hot, humid, but thank-God-it’s-Friday Friday. I got to work early, and was texting with one of my “kids”-to-be. We had been in touch, and I first met him when I invited him for my birthday dinner earlier this month. I had promised to bring him to RITM to be registered, a promise that became urgent Friday as he told me he had a bad cough, a high fever, and was throwing up what he was eating. I was, of course, worried.

So I texted Ate, telling her about his condition, and asking for advice. She told me to bring him in ASAP, so he could be checked and medicated properly, and to make sure he wasn’t getting dehydrated. Okay. Considering it as an emergency, I left work early and met with my newest “kid”-to-be to take the trip to Alabang. It was late afternoon already, and I needed to text Ate that we were on our way, requesting for her to wait for us.

Getting there, we got first dibs with Ate. Seemed like everyone who went for check-ups were done already. The only other people there were those who were going to join the out-of-town for Doc’s birthday. I had no plans of going, first, because I was going to be on call for work this weekend due to an urgent account, and more importantly, a friend was in town from Germany, and we had agreed on this weekend to meet up and...

While my “kid” was in session with the doctor, I was chatting it up with one of the pusettes – female pusit? – someone who I really didn’t know well or talk to a lot, but to whom I made a mark when I gave her what condoms I had the last time I saw her, since she had plans to do “it” with her boyfriend. Hehehe. Funny, she put me on the spot about what happened to me and Papi, something that I myself couldn’t say and didn’t know. So I just told her to ask him herself.

So anyway, another group of guys was in the room, those who were going to Doctora’s birthday thingy. And then it started. I got asked if I was going. And then I got asked why I wasn’t. No, I wasn’t asked, I was attacked... by Mr. Mouth. When Mr. Mouth talks, he... really... talks. Ears bleed.

With a screech of a voice, Mr. Mouth was attacking me about why “we” aren’t participative, asking why “we” were letting off an exclusive and elusive vibe. We? We?! He, of course, was referring to my little pozzie posse. And even as I denied that “we” had any issues with “them”, he just wouldn’t stop badgering, going as far as saying “Eh, baket may chismis?”

Rumors? Oh please, grow up. My eyes rolled into the back of my head. He was getting on my nerves already, and I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Eh kasi chismosa ka, kaya siguro may chismis.” I was half joking, but half just putting him in his right place.

At that point, I knew I didn’t need to defend myself. I was there to accompany my newbie and nothing else. And if not for this newbie, I wouldn’t even be there on that day and at that time in the first place. I would be working. So I focused on my newbie and just let the freakish voice go in one ear and out the other.

Our group? My pozzie posse? What’s the issue? While our “group” is a group, we are individuals. We are not clones of each other. We each have a mind to make decisions. We do not need to conspire about who and what we like. Each is entitled to his own opinions. Now if we just happened to not be at a certain event at the same time, or not be particularly drawn to the same person, it’s all coincidence.

The truth was, I did know that at least two of us were going, E and my eldest pozzie kid. But, again, I didn’t need to defend myself with that fact. The same way he didn’t need to insinuate his baseless accusations.

So just shut the hell up, Mr. Mouth. And as for the intrigues, cut your crap. Get a life... a life of your own. Consider this: the world does not revolve around you. If you think we have issues with you or whoever, then that’s your issue. You deal with it.

Wow, I was amazed. This person actually had the gall to show that he thought everything was about him. I won’t even hope that his “group” thinks the same way, or that he was speaking on their behalf. Everything was just about him, and “his group”. Amazing, amazing, amazing. So maybe that’s the problem? Is it just me, or does anyone else have issues with attention whores?

Anyhoo, from there, I managed to escape the clutches of Mr. Mouth. Away from the south, and away from the mouth, my new bunso and I headed off back north. He was just advised to stop what medication he was taking, try to rustle up a nebulizer in the meantime, and go back this coming week for his baseline tests.

As for me, I purged the negativity that I got showered with at the RITM, and just focused on staying positive for my newbie. And as for Mr. Mouth, I don’t look forward to seeing him again... or hearing him again for that matter. Here’s my foot... shove it. Oh, on second thought, EWWWWW. I wouldn't want to get my foot dirty. He can use his own.

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High in the Viral Sky

As if health and well-being aren't huge enough concerns for someone living with HIV, somehow, the potential to go places is also a concern to many.

Yes, were talking travel here. Aside from exploring the leisure and adventure that lie beyond the Philippine shores, for some, it is the chance to work abroad and graze the greener pastures that may be bigger concerns.

Personally, I'm not too alarmed by the possible restrictions this virus may have on me when it comes to travel. But thanks to a new friend, who is himself awaiting confirmatory results and raising such concerns, I decided to revisit the stuff I'd read about HIV travel restrictions.

So prepare for information overload. Here's what I found...

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There are no restrictions for Albania, Croatia, Czech Republic, Denmark, Eritrea, Estonia, Ethiopia, France, Ghana, Guatemala, Guinea, Ireland, Macedonia, Madagascar, Malta, Monaco, Morocco, Mozambique, Myanmar, Namibia, Nepal, Netherlands, Portugal, Slovenia, Switzerland, Tanzania, Thailand, Togo, Tunisia, Venezuela, Zambia, and Zimbabwe.

There are no restrictions for/on entry for Argentina, Austria, Azerbaijan, Belgium, Cambodia, Chile, Georgia, Honduras, Hong Kong, Iceland, India, Indonesia, Kosovo, Laos, Latvia, Lesotho, Libya, Liechtenstein, Luxemburg, Malawi, Maldives, Mexico, Nigeria, Pakistan, Turkey, Uruguay and the Virgin Islands.

There are no entry restrictions for people living with HIV for Bosnia-Herzegovina, Brazil, Cote d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast), Italy, Jamaica, Japan, Senegal, Swaziland, Sweden and the United Kingdom.

There is currently no information for Bahamas, Barbados, Guyana and Slovakia.


Below are the travel regulations for other countries with more specific stipulations:

Algeria
No restrictions for entry, but HIV test mandatory if applying for residence permit.

Angola
No restrictions for entry, but HIV tests required for all foreigners applying for work or residence visas.

Armenia
Although there are no restrictions on entry, foreigners in the country who are found to be HIV-positive may be deported.

Aruba
No restrictions on entry, but HIV testing is required for intending immigrants.

Australia
No restrictions for entry, but HIV tests required for foreign nationals who wish to settle in Austalia. HIV tests are required for foreigners who want to immigrate permanently to Australia.

Bahrain
No restrictions for tourists, but pre-employment HIV tests for foreign workers.

Bangladesh
No restrictions on entry, but deportation possible if a person if found to have HIV whilst in the country.

Belarus
No restriction for tourist visits of under three months. All persons staying longer than three months must produce evidence of their HIV status.

Belize
No restrictions for entry, HIV tests required for those seeking work or residence permits.

Benin
No restrictions for short-time tourist stays. HIV testing required for work or residence permits.

Bolivia
No restrictions for entry or residence, but HIV tests required for intending immigrants.

Botswana
No restrictions for entry. HIV testing required from students beginning their studies.

Brunei
No testing for short-term tourist stays, but people with HIV are not permitted entry. HIV tests are required for those seeking work and residence permits.

Bulgaria
No restrictions for entry, but HIV tests required for foreigners who wish to stay longer than 30 days.

Burkina Faso
There are no entry restrictions for HIV-positive persons. However, in order to obtain an entry visa, foreigners must be vaccinated against yellow fever, a live vaccine which is not recommended for those with compromised immunity.

Burundi
No restrictions for HIV-positive people. Proof of yellow fever vaccination required.

Cameroon
No restrictions for entry, but yellow fever vaccination certificate required.

Canada
No restrictions for short-term tourist visits. Mandatory HIV testing of all prospective immigrants occurs.

China
The situation is unclear. China has said that it will remove entry restrictions for people with HIV, but in the summer of 2008 random checks were still being conducted. HIV tests required for a work permit.

Colombia
No information for short-term visits. A medical certificate is required for those who are applying for a long stay visa, work permit or residency.

Costa Rica
No entry restrictions for short-term visits.

Cuba
No restrictions for short-term visits. HIV tests required for students seeking a scholarship in Cuba. HIV tests required for renewal of residency permit.

Cyprus
No restrictions for short-term visits. HIV test required for residency, work and study.

Dominican Republic
No restrictions for entry, but HIV tests is required for residency.

Ecuador
No restrictions for entry. Those applying for a long-term residency are normally requested to test for HIV.

Egypt
No restrictions for short-term tourist visits. HIV tests required for study and work permits.

Fiji
No reliable information about entry for short-term visits. HIV tests required for visits lasting over five months.

Finland
No restrictions. However, a residence permit may be denied to a foreigner thought to be a threat to public health.

Gabon
No restrictions for entry, yellow fever vaccination required.

Germany
No restrictions for short-term visits. HIV tests required in some states for stays lasting over three months.

Greece
No entry restrictions. Sex workers wishing to work in Greece are the only group tested. If positive, a sex work permit will be refused, but free HIV treatment will be offered.

Haiti
No HIV testing on entry.

Hungary
No restrictions for short-term tourist stays. No HIV testing on entry. An HIV test is required for anyone who wants to stay in the country for more than one year. Additionally, some employers may require their staff to undergo HIV testing.

Iran
No restrictions for European nationals visiting for tourism or business for under three months. Foreign nationals intending to work in Iran or to stay for more than three months must produce an HIV test certificate.

Iraq
HIV tests are required for those wishing to visit for more than ten days.

Israel
No restrictions for entry. Migrants from endemic countries must have an HIV test, as must migrant workers.

Jordan
No restrictions for stays of 30 days or less. HIV tests required for stays of over two months or for work or residence permits.

Kazakhstan
No restrictions for short-term visits, but HIV test required for work or residence permit.

Kenya
No restrictions for entry, proof of yellow fever vaccination may be required.

Korea, Democratic People’s Republic
There is no legal provision regarding the entry of people with HIV. Not everybody is requested to present a medical certificate or a specific document of an AIDS examination when entering the country. However, if a person’s HIV-positive status becomes known, he/she is sent back to his/her country of origin. The reason given for this is the lack of experience with HIV and the lack of treatment options.

Korea, South
The South Korean government has announced that entry restrictions on the basis of HIV status have been lifted, effective from January 1st 2010. Prior to this development, “People with HIV are not permitted to enter the country. However, for a stay of up to three months, it is not mandatory to prove one’s HIV status (for those visitors who do not require a visa). There are controls at the border regarding the HIV status. If a person’s HIV-positive status becomes known, he/she is expelled.”

Kuwait
No HIV testing is required for visitors or business travellers. The visa application for a long-term stay requires a doctor’s certificate. In the case of an HIV infection, no visa is granted.

Kyrgyzstan
All foreigners excluding diplomats staying more than one month are required to provide evidence of their HIV status.

Lebanon
No restrictions for short-term visits. Anyone planning to live or work in Lebanon must undergo an HIV test.

Lithuania
No restrictions for entry, but HIV test may be required for applicants for permanent residence permits.

Malaysia
No restrictions for entry for short-term visits. HIV tests required for some workers.

Mali
No restrictions for entry, but yellow fever vaccination required.

Marshall Islands
No restrictions for short-term visits, but HIV test may be required for visits over 30 days.

Mauritius
No information about short-term visits, but it is thought that there are likely to be few problems. HIV test required for foreign nationals who want to work in Mauritius or who apply for permanent residence.

Micronesia
No restrictions for entry. Anyone staying over 90 days is required to undergo an HIV test.

Mongolia
No information about short-term visits, but few problems anticipated. Tests required for longer visits or work, residence or study permits.

Moldavia
Foreign nationals who are HIV positive are not allowed to enter Moldavia. A medical certificate is required on entry, although tourists are exempt. In addition, foreign tourists need to pass a health exam conducted by the Moldavian Health Authorities. Such a certificate is also necessary if a foreign national wishes to get married in Moldavia. HIV testing is required of anybody wishing to stay longer than three months.

Mongolia
A test result is requested on entry. However, this law is apparently not applied. Foreign students must have an HIV test on arrival, repeated several months later. Foreigners staying longer than 30 days may also be required to undergo testing, though this is not an official law and is only selectively applied.

Montserrat
No restrictions for entry. Foreign nationals, including university students who are applying for or renewing work or residence must produce a negative HIV certificate.

New Zealand
No restrictions for stays of up to three months. From early 2005, New Zealand started undertaking HIV screening for migrants. The full set of changes, including screening for HIV, and a wider and updated set of tests for other expensive-to-treat conditions, was implemented for people seeking to be in New Zealand for longer than twelve months.

Nicaragua
No restrictions for short-term stays. For stays of more than three months, the residence permit has to be extended by the immigration authorities. In this case, the presentation of a medical certificate is requested. Extended residency will only exceptionally be granted to HIV-positive people.

Niger
No restrictions for entry, but HIV tests required for foreign nationals seeking to marry citizens of Niger.

Norway
No restrictions for entry. Persons who stay in Norway for longer than three months are offered a tuberculosis test and an HIV test, in order to arrange for any necessary treatment as quickly as possible.

Oman
No HIV test required for tourists. HIV tests for work or residence permits.

Panama
No restrictions for short-term visits. An HIV test certificate is required of foreign nationals wishing to stay for more than one year.

Papua New Guinea
No HIV test required for short-term visits, but required if applying for a work permit.

Paraguay
No restrictions for short-term visits. HIV test required for residency.

Peru
No entry restrictions. Those wishing to obtain a Peruvian marriage certificate are required to take an HIV test.

Philippines
No restrictions for short-term tourist stays.

Poland
No restrictions for short-term stays. Mandatory HIV tests for mothers or babies suspected to have HIV and who wish to stay for three months or longer.

Qatar
No HIV testing on entry. However, people whose HIV-status is known to the authorities are refused entry. Applicants for a work or residence permit must present a negative HIV test certificate (the date of the certificate must not be older than six months).

Romania
No restrictions, but HIV test required for a marriage license.

Russian Federation
No restrictions for entry for stays up to three months. Students and foreign employees staying longer than three months must have an HIV test.

Rwanda
There are no restriction entries to people living with HIV. However in the case of serious illness permission can be refused.

St Kitts and Nevis
Foreign nationals seeking permanent residence, undertaking study and those applying for work permits may be asked to undertake an HIV test.

Saudi Arabia
Very likely to be no problems for short-term visits, but HIV tests required for long-term work permits.

Seychelles
No restrictions for tourist visits. HIV test for work permit.

Singapore
No restrictions for short-term tourist stays lasting up 30 days. HIV testing for longer stays.

Solomon Islands
Entry can be denied if it becomes known, that the person in question has an infectious disease.

South Africa
No restrictions for tourists with HIV.

Spain
No restrictions for short-term visits.

Sri Lanka
No specific entry regulations for people with HIV. No questions asked about HIV on entry. However in cases in which an HIV infection is suspected, foreign nationals may be denied entry.

Sudan
Officially, people with HIV are not granted a visa and are not permitted to enter Sudan. A negative HIV test result must be presented at a Sudanese embassy or at Khartoum airport in order to obtain a visa. However, these regulations are unlikely to be carried out.

Syria
Foreign nationals applying for work permits and foreign students must undergo an HIV test at one of three specified centres in Syria. A foreigner wishing to marry a Syrian national is required to take an HIV test.

Syria
No restrictions for short-term visits. HIV test required for individuals aged 15 - 50 who require a residence permit or to settle in Syria.

Tadjikistan
No evidence of HIV testing to entry. HIV testing is required for stays of more than 90 days.

Taiwan
No short-term restrictions. An HIV test result must be presented by anyone wishing to stay longer than 90 days or applying for a residence or work permit.

Tonga
No restrictions for short-term visits, but HIV test required for visits lasting five months or more.

Trinidad and Tobago
All foreign nationals applying for residence or to stay more than one year must undergo a medical examination. Those found to be HIV–positive will be refused permission to stay.

Turks and Caicos
No restrictions for short-term visits. All foreign nationals applying for work and residence permits must have a medical examination on arrival, including an HIV test.

Turkmenistan
No restrictions for short-term tourist stays. A positive test result may, however, lead to deportation.

Uganda
No restrictions for short-term visits.

Ukraine
No restrictions for short-term visits. HIV tests required for foreign nationals wishing to remain beyond three months.

United Arab Emirates
HIV tests are required for entry, but short-term visits are possible because there are no checks at borders. HIV test required for residence.

United States of America
The long-standing US HIV travel ban has ended, with effect from January 4th 2010.

Uzbekistan
No restrictions for visits of up to 90 days. HIV-negative certificate required for visits over three months.

Vietnam
No specific entry or residence restrictions for people with HIV/AIDS. However the Vietnamese law requires HIV positive people to report to the health control authorities on entry.

Yemen
Entry will not be granted if the authorities are aware an individual is HIV-positive. A negative test result has to be presented for stays of more than one month or applying for residence.
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So there. If you really think about it, it's not like being HIV-positive leaves you tied to your motherland. A lot of possibilities still remain at your fingertips. For more information, visit the websites of NAMLIFE and HIVTravel.

So indeed, it may seem that having the HIV bomb dropped on you may feel like someone clipped your wings, but really, you just gotta realize that you still can soar, and soar high.

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How NOT to Celebrate

I’d been tapping my fingers waiting for mid-April. April 17th. It was to be two years since I got diagnosed with HIV. I always thought I’d treat it as a special day.

Last year, I did have an entry, Happy Positiversary. But this year, as the day came closer, I was having second thoughts. I wasn’t exactly as excited.

Was this really something to celebrate?

April 16th, I had to trek to RITM early in the morning. No choice. I drank the last of my supply of ARVs the day before. I got my meds and hung out with Ate a few minutes as well. My regimen booklet was handed to me as well... it’s this passport-slash-bankbook looking thingy where all the ARVs we get every time are recorded. Apparently, they want us to take responsibility for our own booklets, rather than the old protocol where we’d leave all our booklets with Ate every time. Good luck, hope I don’t ruin it or lose it.

From there, I headed off to work. I rode a bus back to Makati. Nothing special, it was actually hot on the bus, and I fell asleep for most of the trip. When we hit Magallanes, a lot of people got off, including the person beside me and those seated across the aisle from me. Someone walked up from the rear of the bus to take the seat across. And then it started getting weird.

I felt he was looking at me. I had to glance over. It was a guy in a black shirt, nice looking actually. But still couldn’t say for sure if he indeed was looking at me or not, because he had shades on. One reason I hate shades, I never know what someone’s looking at. So anyway, noticing that he’d look away every time I glanced at him, I shrugged it off as nothing.

Ayala turned out to be his stop. He stood to get down, but not before he tapped the headrest of the seat in front of me twice with his fingers. I found it so odd. Was that supposed to mean something? I waited if he’d look back, but he didn’t. Still curious, I drew the curtains aside to see if I could spot him one last time on the street. I did.

I was expecting him to be walking or something, but no. He was standing there, waiting for the bus to pass, looking my way the whole time. I thought to myself, too bad he didn’t make his intentions clearer... I probably won’t ever get the chance to see this guy ever again. The world ain’t that small.

So there. Made it to work, late of course. Oh, but not before getting another pass from a guy on the jeep. Argh. The heavens were taunting me. Fine, so I’m single, but really, must it pour when it rains? Anyway, I’ll take it. The rest of the day was spent at work, plus a dinner meeting for something we’re coming up with hopefully in time for World AIDS Day in December... exciting! No details yet, but the ball has started rolling!

Saturday was gonna be a night. A date night at that. This was someone I had known since before. Had sex on the first date years ago. Wholesome second date in MOA, movie, dinner, walked around and plopped down on the sidewalk for some hours just talking. Simple... simple and nice actually. Then sex again on the third date.

After that, I started avoiding him, mostly because I was dealing with finding out I was HIV positive. He was one of those I advised anonymously to get tested. His persistence to see me again forced me to disclose to him. I don’t remember exactly when I did, but I think it was late last year. Still he was willing to see me. My next reason why I could not see him was that I was dating someone exclusively, which I was.

And now that I am transitioning from a so-called relationship, I have no more excuses. So when he asked to see me, I agreed. Saturday was gonna be a night. The night. The date night.

A date? Big deal?! Well, it was a big deal for me, because it would be my first date since September last year. Yep, that was the last I was ever on a date. Pathetic to think I was actually in a relationship since that time? I know. But again, no regrets. So this was to be a first in 7 months. Kawawa no? Hehe.

So we met in Makati, and watched a movie. I Love Phillip Morris. Not exactly the feel good movie we were expecting. I didn’t know what to think about the part where he gets out of jail by faking his medical records and making it appear that he has AIDS, successfully getting himself into a guinea pig program… and this is supposed to be based on true events?! Toink.

From there, we had dinner at Shakey’s. Penne pasta, a huge salad, and a basket of Mojo potatoes. Yum. Washed down with two pitchers of draft beer? Heavenly. I was bashing him for leaving me to do the eating, while he was bashing me for leaving him to do the drinking. He was actually counting the mugs, forcing me to bottoms up a couple of times just to catch up with him. I, of course, was up for the challenge.

From there, having downed my ARVs. We took a walk along Pasong Tamo to a little open air bar called Obeertime. No, we didn’t go in. We just sat by the pavement across it, talking while watching people pass by. He wanted to take me there initially, but decided on Shakey’s instead, not sure if I’d be comfy in that type of place.

From there, we raided some convenience stores for bottles of water and giant cones of dark chocolate ice cream. Yum. Sat down and talked a bit more. We walked to the next block, which was Buendia already, where we crossed the street to pee... together... in the street. Complete with pee splashing all over each other’s feet. Bwahaha! Not a common thing for someone like me with a shy bladder.

From there we decided to call it a night. Will there be a next date? Well he did ask me when we’d see each other again... So we’ll see.

Sunday was just spent at home resting. The highlight of Sunday came when I happened to open one of my accounts on one of the adult personals sites. I received a message with the subject “I think I saw you.” Creepeh...

Talking about Friday and enumerating every detail of the trip from Alabang, lo and behold, it was from that guy I was riding with on the bus! Bwahaha! I seriously didn’t know what to think... but found myself giving him my number for him to contact me. He had me at “I want a bottom like you.” Hahaha. Haven’t heard from him yet, but plan to disclose anyways before follow-up meet of any sort. Ya know, laying all the cards out onto the table...

So there. My weekend has been busy busy busy. Was it all in celebration of my second year? Hell, no.

Well, it wasn’t that I was suddenly getting all negative about the day I was told I was HIV-positive. It’s more like... okay, I celebrate 1 year, I celebrate 2 years, I celebrate 3... it feels like I’m counting down or something. Hello?! I plan to live much longer, ya know! At this point, I know this HIV thing isn’t a death sentence, so eventually, I’m sure I’ll get tired of counting. So I thought to myself, maybe I should stop counting now, and just live, live and live. So I did. No celebrations. I just lived.

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