My wife and I are first-time parents of our beloved daughter meg. Knowing that she'd be born April, we took about 6 months earlier to discuss how we can raise up the would-be payment for Hospital Bills, Doctor's professional fees, not to mention our baby's personal needs (diapers, milk, clothes, crib, etc.).
Our doctor estimated the costs to be at least 40,000 for normal delivery and at least 80,000 for caesarian.
It just occured to me that really, marriage and child-bearing is no laughing matter and entails a lot of responsibilities. Financially, as one aspect. That's why entering into such kind of responsibilities require that you are financially able to raise up your own funds, and not depend on your parents' aid.
There is, an alternative, though, however, this method may not be very popular in the current times.
When I was a child, my aunt, who was a rural health midwife (later on she became Midwife Supervisor in Nueva Ecija), was the go-to-gal whenever there is someone who is about to give birth. People will call her in the wee hours of the night to fetch her and proceed to where the woman is staying.
One time when I was about five years old, she brought us together with my two older brothers in one of her assignments- a woman is about to give birth and she happened to be the owner of one of those sari-sari stores nearby our house.
The operation was successful, and after the usual proceedings, the head of the household presented us with a merienda. Slices of pan americano (tasty bread) lay in front of us, together with an opened can of "Reno Liver Spread". Must I not say that it was the first time I tasted the thing. We, brothers, must have enjoyed it because we finished off with the slices, prompting our host to say,
"Gusto niyo pa?"
To which we all answered with continuous nod.
And so they laid out another set of bread and opened another can.
Back then, midwives, or kumadronas, were a popular town figure in keeping babies safe out into the world. Villagefolks need not pay much for hospital bills or professional fees, and are not obliged to give anything, hence, they just resort to giving the midwife with a little of their harvests as a way of gratitude.
Gone may be those days, however, people still remember and are eternally indebted to others who help them and anwer their call even in the wee hours of the night.
The Long View: Dispatch from South Korea (2)
4 days ago
3 comments:
treasure nga yung dating samahan ng magkakapitbahay at magkaka-nayon. pag may di pagkakaunawaan madali ring naaayos, at hindi pera ang nangingibabaw.
as for everyone's role in the community, may sense of bayanihan. bayani--para sa kapwa, hindi sa sarili. and there's utang na loob. maganda yung traits nating ganyan, kaso yung utang naloob nagiging twisted minsan. at yung pagiging bayani, napapagkamalian with pompousness and pagpapakitang-tao.
tama ka, paolo.
kung sana lang nga ay maipagpatuloy natin ang ganitong kaugalian.
ang nakakalungkot, unti-unti na ring nawawala at nagka kanya kanya- lalo na sa maynila.
Anghirap kasi sa Maynila maraming lugar na ang magkakapitbahay hindi tubo sa iisang lugar. Madalas pa mga dayo sila lahat kaya iba na yung sense ng kapitbahayan. Dati lahat magkakakilala kahit magkalayo na ng bahay, e ngayon kahit katapat ng bahay mo di mo kilala masyado. Uso na rin yung pagalingan ng magkakapitbahay, pabidahan. Pati pag mga fiesta, the magic of festivities is gone. It's not supposed to mean grand festing, just the tradition at least should live on. Pero yun nga, hindi na sinecelebrate ang founding day or patron's day ng lugar kasi kani-kanya na ang mga tao.
Ang pessimist ng dating ko haha. But I'm also hoping in a couple more decades pwede bumalik yung ganung samahan ng mga tao pag settled down na uli lahat in their places.
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