The waiting game

I've seen this line get overused by people, seemingly always in reference to queuing in a restaurant, anticipating an occasion, or going through a long-haul flight to their paradisaical destination. "The waiting game," their social media status would read, a groupie or selfie to complete the post. My waiting game has started two months ago, and while this game has since been attached to the most mundane and shallow of things, mine is nothing short of frustrating.

Despite what this blog site's About section says, I am not in New Zealand. Not yet, at least. As early as February of last year, Joe and I agreed to pursue a better life in New Zealand. We frequented the NZ immigration website, learning every single detail about the Silver Fern visa and perusing the list of requirements—one of them attaining at least a 6.0 average score in the IELTS test. Writing this blog entry, I remembered the weekends of July last year spent at the Niner workshop and the nights poured into writing, reading, listening, and speaking practice at home. We were suddenly thrown into that familiar "hitting the books" situation, pretty much like college students once again. The exam, I would say, had been the most crucial requirement and, not to mention, very expensive. It was a roller coaster experience of getting frustrated over writing and speaking exercises, and coming out triumphant in the end nonetheless, garnering scores of more than what is needed.

Life doesn't always sail smoothly, and I've come to realize that the hard way. Passing the IELTS exam turned out to be a flash in the pan, a brief moment of success so to speak, when I failed to earn a visa after attempting twice through the Silver Fern and Working Holiday visa applications. I wanted it so bad I felt utterly defeated having doors shut closed in my face despite all the efforts, hard work, and fervent prayers. The good news, however, is that Joe got into the Silver Fern online application and his visa was approved early this year. So the long and short of it is that Joe flies to New Zealand, I am left in Manila, and will follow as soon as I get a partner's visa—that is, once he finally gets a job offer. I must admit, it was difficult to see the silver lining when insecurity reared its head every so often, throwing questions like "Why Joe and not me?" in my mind. "Why not just let us fly together to New Zealand?" and "I have the means (financially speaking), Joe doesn't." The questions did not seem to falter and they deftly woke up the long dormant monster in my head.

It's been exactly two months as of writing since that emotional, tear-jerking parting at the airport. We've been nurturing this relationship in spite of the distance, and we are lucky enough to be going through this after the advent of the internet and Facebook; it would have been a daunting responsibility otherwise. Every day I looked forward to our "Good morning!" "Good night!" "Kumain ka na ba?" "I love you!" messages, as well as video calls if time permits. Somehow, despite their little character count, they hold deeper meanings and they give assurance that everything is and will be alright. Every new day is a day closer to being with Joe, I would always think.

For the past couple of months, I've been persistent in taming this monster in my head, keeping my frustration and impatience at bay by shifting instead my attention to thriving my collection of plants; achieving radiant skin by drinking 1.5 - 2 L of water every day (make-up is a luxury I don't intend to need in New Zealand, so as early as now, I'm getting ready to ditch them); tidying up my closet; immersing and losing myself to well-written books; discovering new writers to admire; and writing in the pursuit of making sense out of all the waiting. Thankfully, these have helped overshadow the negativity and renew my sanguine enthusiasm.

While I know Joe has been trying so hard to get a job, none were forthcoming just yet. Eventually, the patience has worn out and the positivism has dimmed over time. Yet in the absence of any salient news, God still gives me reasons to believe, no matter how difficult it is, that He is listening and that all the waiting will eventually pay off. Like that one Sunday morning when, for whatever reason, I woke up at 5:30 AM and the most palpable, marmalade sunrise I've ever witnessed drew me near the window, my camera fully prepared to take a snap for me to remember; when I exceptionally accomplished tasks at work, my manager could not let them slip unacknowledged; and, most especially, the emails Joe would gradually receive from recruiters—Aderant, to be precise—requesting to complete an online exam or for a one-on-one interview schedule. To be truthfully honest, even rejection emails give us delight. Save us time and expectations.

Something along the lines of "Waiting is like pregnancy—the longer the wait, the bigger the prize" from Rick Warren's book, The Purpose Driven Life, resonated with me. It felt as though it were written for me, for this circumstance. Maybe, it actually was. I don't know for sure, but I'll take that as a testimony—I know pretty soon I'll be flying to New Zealand, and with me is a pocketful of technical expertise, family memories, and, not to be missed, a radiant, dewy skin sans the make-up.