By BOBBIE STA. MARIA

Faulty title, minutes do not measure distance. But we get what I mean: How far is the airport from your house? One hour. How far is Cebu from Manila? One hour. Distance is only as relevant as the time it takes to get us there. I hope that appeases our intellectual snobs.

With that out of the way…

There’s this phrase that some people live by. And by some people, I mean the lazy half-wits from the northern side of Manila who I call male friends. It goes, “sexy, pretty, Quezon City.” It describes their ideal girl, to state the obvious.

It is my destined task to disagree with the first two, but I fully subscribe to the third, seeing as it makes for a lot of why I love my work. Not everyone will agree with lawyering for the poor as a sound career decision (it is, Mother), but nobody can argue with Quezon City.

The much overlooked economic viability of working for my QC-based NGO is explained below:

PM snack, P15

The items are self-explanatory, except perhaps for lunch and attire. Yes, P 35 for lunch, and that includes a meat dish and a vegetable dish (half-order). We have a lunch supplier making the rounds every morning, and unless you’re vegetarian or playing your ipod at full blast, you will have your balanced meal as soon as Ate Gina shouts, “PAGKAEEEEN!” On attire, there is no written or unwritten dress code in our office. And neither is there one in most parts of QC, the NGO capital of the world.

Imagine the happiness that P15,300 can buy. Every month.

Plus I get to sleep more and eat breakfast with my mother, which over-all make me a better person, and which pretty much sums up the psychosocial part.

Whether you have doubts about sexy and pretty, or are unsure if you’re in the right job, trust the Quezon City factor to show you the way. Find work that hits close to home in every imaginable way.

I write this from my room in Sydney, where I’m taking my Masters in Human Rights and Democratisation on scholarship, thanks mainly to my NGO work. I think of tomorrow’s walk to class in the nice Australian winter (also seven minutes), and am astonished by the genuine possibility that, except for finishing the song “Hey Jude” on my routine morning walk, I can have it all.

Sexy, pretty, Quezon City.