The doctor finally removed Twin1’s stitches yesterday.

Now Twin1 walks around with that sweet and innocent trademark smile of his (something that I’ve never had the chance to capture with my camera yet), pointing at his mouth, saying “Dah baik” (’already healed’) to anyone who cares to listen.

And yes, once in a while, we get mixed up again who’s Twin1 and who’s Twin2.

It’s so wonderful to have things back to normal!

I have fond memories of growing up with trees — climbing trees and picking fruits from trees.

I remember picking star apples (Cebuano: kaimito) when I was about 6 years old. I don’t remember much about how I actually ‘helped’ in the picking, but I remember eating them fresh from the tree.

When I was about 8, I remember waiting for my older brother to come down from this huge guava tree in our backyard and coming back with a haul so huge, we had more than enough to make several jars of guava jelly.

When I was 14 or 15, we had so many papaya trees that I actually got sick of eating papayas, since we had more papayas than we could eat!

And of course, we always had camachile and mansanitas trees. The camachile trees were too thorny to climb, but my playmates and I loved the challenge of picking the fruits with whatever long sticks that we could lay our hands on. I never really cared for mansanitas but I always found it a lot of fun picking the fruits, as I could just jump up and grab hold of one of the lower branches, and then pull it down so I could reach the rest of the branch to get some of the fruit.

I especially remember this guava tree in front of our house, back when I was just 9 or 10 years old (we moved a few times when I was small, so this is different from the guava jelly tree). I always remember with so much fondness how I used to climb that tree and recline on one of the branches while munching on the fruits, absent-mindedly peeling off bits and pieces of the tree’s bark.

I’ve always wished that my children can experience some of the magic of climbing trees, picking some fruits with their bare hands and tasting the extraordinary sweetness of those freshly plucked fruits. They’ve spent all their lives in the city and, although KL is very green, they’ve had very few chances of actually climbing trees (especially fruit-bearing trees) and eating fruits that they picked with their bare hands.

So I told DH about this wish. But didn’t really give that much thought to it.

Then in the morning of my birthday in 2005, I looked out the window and saw him digging a deep hole in front of our house. He was planting a rambutan tree for me! I’d have to say that was the best gift that he’s ever given to me in our 10+ years of marriage. It was as though he gave me back a part of my childhood, even if my childhood didn’t actually involve any rambutan trees.

The tree was grown from a graft (they call it tot in Malaysia, I have no idea why), so even though it was less than 4 feet high, it was already about 2 years old when he planted it.

And the thing is, rambutan trees start to bear fruit after only 3 years. So imagine my excitement last year, when my rambutan tree bore flowers for the very first time. Excitement quickly turned to disappointment, however, when the flowers fell off after just a day.

So the days and weeks and months passed by. I dared not hope too much, for fear of getting disappointed again. So I just passed by my rambutan tree without much thought, day in and day out.

Then a few days ago, Lola told me that my tree has flowers! So I went to check on the tree and saw these:-

They’re tiny flowers that have developed into tiny green buds that will soon grow into the hairy fruits that RoundBoy loves so much. And there were bunches and bunches of them.

I’ve been checking on them everyday and they’re still there, rain or no rain, wind or no wind.

So I guess the kids will finally get to pick some rambutan fruits this year! Right in front of our house!

I just hope that we get to pick them before the neighbourhood kids or some other passers-by do…

Joy, oh, joy! Lola and I finally got our Schengen visas today, thereby making our trip to Geneva, Paris and Amsterdam officially on. Yay!

What’s a Schengen visa anyway?

The word ‘Schengen‘ is actually the name of a small village in Luxembourg (population: 400), where officials from France, Germany, Belgium, Luxembourg and the Netherlands signed in 1985 an agreement on the gradual abolition of checks at common borders. This agreement became known as the Schengen Agreement.

In 1990, the Schengen Convention was signed in the same village by the initial signatory countries, with the addition of several other EU Member States (Italy, Spain, Portugal and Greece). The Schengen Convention supplemented the original Schengen agreement and laid down the arrangements and safeguards for implementing freedom of movement.

Today, the full Schengen members are Austria, Belgium, the Czech Republic, Denmark, Estonia,Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Malta, the Netherlands, Poland, Portugal, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, plus Iceland and Norway (which are not EU members).

Mind you, Ireland and the United Kingdom are not part of the Schengen zone, hence, you need to apply for a separate visa if you want to kiss the Blarney Stone or see Buckingham Palace. These two countries, however, are said “to participate, in the future, in those aspects of Schengen that entail cooperation between police forces and the judiciary”. Certain countries can enter the UK without a visa (you can check here if you do need one) but I know for sure that I’ll be needing one. Blame it on the curse of the Philippine passport!

Since the Schengen Convention abolished the checks at internal borders of the signatory States and introduced a common visa policy, this means that Schengen visa holders can travel freely from one Schengen State to another without having to apply for a separate visa for each of these countries and without having to produce your passport as you go through the borders. Take note, however, that border officials in EU countries may still ask from you other supporting documents such as an invitation letter, proof of lodging, return or round-trip ticket, even if you already have a Schengen visa.

The implication is mind-boggling and is every traveller’s dream. As Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico said, one “can travel 4,000km (2,485 miles) from Tallinn in Estonia to Lisbon in Portugal without any border controls”.

With this in mind, it is perfectly understandable why the process of applying for a Schengen visa is very lengthy and very detailed. You need to give full disclosure of your itinerary, provide copies of flight bookings and hotel bookings, give actual dates of entry for each country, apply for travel insurance with a maximum coverage of 30,000 Euro, show invitation letters (for business visa applications), as well as the usual requirement of proof of financial means (bank statements for the past two months, letter from employer, etc), among other things.

Oh, and a day before they actually issue the Schengen visa, they will want to see the original plane and/or train tickets and the original insurance policy.

The application fee is the equivalent of 60 Euro in your local currency and is non-refundable, whether your application is approved or not.

The worst part for me was the waiting, as the processing time for a Schengen visa is 15 working days!

You may click here and here for further information on the Schengen visa.

The funny thing is, I have applied for and was granted all sorts of visas before — US, Swiss, Australian, Mexican, Korean, Chinese, even a Schengen visa two times in the past — but I’ve never felt so apprehensive about an application as this one. I’ve never had to give full and complete disclosure of each and every step of my trip (what date I’m arriving in Paris, where I’m staying, when do I leave Paris, when do I enter Amsterdam, where will I stay in Amsterdam, etc) and I never had to show all the originals of all my supporting documents before, including the original of my marriage certificate.

So yeah, I was scared. And I’m so relieved that the long wait is over. And I’m so elated that we got a 30-day multiple entry visa!

So the only problem now is…where do I get the funds to have a longer trip so that I can go see the other Schengen countries to make the most of my visa? ;)

This is my poor little boy, Twin1, with three tiny stitches just above his upper lip.

The stitches look minute…but just imagine the doctor’s curved needle pierce the tender, sensitive flesh, piercing him two times per stitch — once for the entry wound, then a second time for the exit.

Imagine the thread being pulled through his sore mouth.

Imagine the pressure as the doctor makes the knot.

Then imagine Twin1 having had to go through that process two more times, as he struggled and screamed and cried, a blanket wound tightly around him to restrain his arms and legs, a blindfold covering his eyes, two people holding him down as the doctor did what she had to do.

There is nothing more heart-breaking than the sight — or even the mere thought — of your child going through so much pain and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it but to hold him in your arms…

Click on the thumbnails for a closer view of the stitches. Not for the squeamish or faint-hearted…

I left for Jakarta Monday night. And, upon landing in Cengkareng airport, the first SMS that I got was from Lola, who informed me that Twin1 got a nasty cut on his upper lip that required three stitches!!! Apparently, the twins were jumping on the bed, they bumped into each other and somehow Twin1 fell and hit the nearby TV cabinet.

Why do these things always happen when I’m away? The last time I was in Jakarta, the first SMS that I got was also from Lola, who told me that Twin1 had a small fall in playschool which got everyone worried because he couldn’t move his elbow the whole afternoon. Thankfully, it turned out to be nothing serious…

This time, however, it is a major cause for worry! Three stitches! On a toddler’s mouth! I can’t even begin to imagine how the doctor managed to do her job, with Twin1 kicking and screaming the whole time!

I could hardly concentrate on what I had to do in Jakarta. And I couldn’t rest until I saw for myself how Twin1 is when I got home last night. Well, okay, technically, this morning, since it was almost 2 am. Our flight was delayed for three hours — one long hour for each tiny stitch on my little boy’s mouth :(

Twin1 seems to be back to his normal active, happy self this morning, although, if you ask him about his mouth, he’ll point at it and say “Sakit!” (painful, both in Malay and Tagalog/Cebuano).

I just hope there wouldn’t be any nasty scar once the stitches come off in two to three days’ time. But should there be one, it will definitely take away the fun out of guessing which twin is which in the future! :P