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After Making Love, You Hear Footsteps*

dawa garo mayo man; huna nindo lang

pirming igwang nagdadangadang. Ika

handal tibaad an saimong kasaruan,

sabi mong haloy nang nawara, basang

na sanang magbutwa; siya man masundan

daa kan ilusyon na an sugid haloy niya

nang itinalbong, alagad ngonyan saiya

tibaad nag-iidong-idong.

Sa laog kain saindong kwarto garo igwang

nakahiriling saindo. Sa saindong pinapaiplian

garo man sana dai kamo nalilipudan. Pagmati nindo

pirmi kamong linalamag kan kun anong duwang kalag.

Dai man daw basang na sana sinda nindong binarayaan

ta nganing sa kada saro kamo magpasiram-siram?

Sa saindang kasuyaan, dae ninda aram

kun sain maduman. Yaraon sinda bisan diin

kamo magduman. Sa saindang kasusupgan,

dai ninda kamo tinatantanan. Mga kalag sindang

dai nagkamirisahan. Ara-aldaw ninda kamong

sisingilon kan saindang kamurawayan.

*Dispensa ki Galway Kinnell

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Pagtaóng-gálang

Sang naglígad, amo ini an satuyang panukol o palatandaan kan sarong taong maáyo an pagpadakula. Dai naghaloy, nawara na sana sato an pagtaóng-gálang. Sa katunayan, kadaklan na beses, naoogma pa kita kun mayo ‘ni, na garo logod ini pakaraot o pakitang-tao sana. Dai. Igwang tiempo kadtong an pag-“tabi-apo” sa mga lugar na sagrado, an pagtaóng-gálang sa mga banal na tawo, an pagdungog sa yaon sa halangkaw na puwesto, sa igwang kaálam, sa gurang, sa marahay, sa mabini, sa matali, sa magayon an ugali, nagtao man nin onra bako sana sa nasambit nang tawo o grupo, kundi mismo sa tawong nagtaóng-gálang. Sa pagtataóng-gálang, an duwa nagakalípay, napapamarhay. Saro ning pagbisto sa mga nakakalangkaw, nakakamarhay, hapós kag udok sa boot na tinatao kan tawong pareho man ninda kagalang-galang, pareho man ninda kamarhay.

Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon

sang naglígad, kan nakaagi, kadto

amo, iyo maáyo, marhay, magayon

kaálam, kaaraman, kabatiran

nagakalípay, naoogma

hapós, pasil, madali

kag, sagkod 

Susog sa “Respect” yaon sa Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes Gaertner. New York: Viking Press, 1990, 74.

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Beautiful monsters

Save for one poignant scene in Richard Somes’s Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang, the rest of the movie leaves a number of unresolved settings, let’s call them clutter, that rather puzzle the audience.

This scene involves Erich Gonzales’s Corazon fleeing the townsfolk and Derek Ramsey’s Daniel escaping the personal army of the landlord Matias (Mark Gil) in the post-World War II sakadas, most probably in the vast lands of Negros. (Immediately this mention of probability is only one among the many unresolved elements that cloud the essence of the movie. Aside from the landlord-tenant relationship which was prevalent elsewhere in the post-war Philippines, no other elements in the movie can make us infer it happened particularly there.)

In the village of Magdalena, Daniel, the loving farmer husband of the innocently beautiful Corazon, has just murdered the landlord Matias in his own mansion after the couple’s house was burned down by the goons. And the wounded Corazon, after being shot by Matias when she devoured his daughter Melissa in her bed, has also been found (and found out) by one of Daniel’s friends to be the one responsible for the killing of children in the village.

Both Daniel and Corazon are fleeing the enraged townsfolk who want to kill the village murderer. The scene rips your heart because both characters are rather fleeing their own created monsters. Daniel has murdered the landlord in retaliation for having burned their house; while Corazon has just been found out responsible for having devoured the children in the village. What rips your heart more is that the couple only wanted to have a child but the wife’s devotion to San Gerardo failed them—after Corazon delivered a stillborn. So the reality of a dead baby drove the main character Corazon (the could-have been mother) to curse God and throw her faith away to the dark.

The man-on-the-road element in this work of fiction is rendered well in this climactic scene, with the score swelling as the couple flees their pursuers heightening the drama and resolving it to the conclusion—as in the French term denouement (day-no-man)—when the couple vanish in the dark. So there.

  Notes on Camp

In the 1960s, American writer Susan Sontag was brought to the world limelight after she pinpointed that camp is the “love of the unnatural, the artifice and exaggeration.” We have seen camp movies proliferate in the horror flicks of the Filipino directors in the 80s—Shake, Rattle and Roll series and tons of other films in the same vein that entertained the generation of that decade. Through time, we have seen tendencies of Filipino movies to make use of camp, which refers to the effects that the film made to scare the audience by propping monsters and supernaturals so they look hideous or horrible only to make them appear outrageously odd or simply outrageous.

In Corazon, these include madwoman Melinda’s (Tetchie Agbayani) over-disheveled wig which rather exaggerates Diana Ross’s afro look. When I saw this, prizewinning fictionist critic Rosario Cruz-Lucero came to mind. In cases like this, Cruz-Lucero hints at the creative sense that an author needs not “overkill” the essence of what he is portraying by overdoing descriptions and attributes that have already been established.

The movie was trapped in the premise that a madwoman must really appear overly unkempt and dirty with her tattered outfit, teeth and all—or totally taong grasa so audience knows she is mad. And mad. And really mad. But there is just no need for Agbayani’s Melinda to appear this ridiculous so she could portray her Sisa character [she’s looking for her daughter who disappeared during the war]. I suppose Agbayani is fairly a good actress that her delivery of lines or a dramatic monologue alone could make us infer without a doubt she is a Sisa who was driven mad because she lost her child to the war.

Furthermore, we cannot see the relevance of Gonzales’s Corazon putting on a baboy-damo mask to cloud her real intentions that she is the village monster preying on the innocent victims. What is Corazon’s reason for doing that? In the first place, where did she get the mask? Too implausible. Even the metallic effect of the face of the mask strikes us like it was stolen from the set of Kate Beckinsale’s Underworld which is too European to be accepted into the Filipino sensibility. Employing all these is more than camp, but more appropriately a rushed second-year high school drama production.

The movie also badly suffers from the complicated plot which requires more show time for them to be unraveled and resolved. Questions. Is Melinda the lost mother of Matias’s daughter Melissa? Or is Corazon the lost daughter of Melinda? We do not know. But it seemed as if the movie showed we knew they were.

While it could have just dwelt on the legend of the aswang, or how the first human-eating human being came to be—initially called halimaw in the film—the movie touched on other sensibilities and opened territories where the other characters dwelt but which it did not pursue or explore at all.

  Both Beautiful and Monstrous

 At the time the halimaw devours the village children one by one, Corazon contorts her head like the way it is done in the Asian horror flicks that became the norm made popular by the Japanese original Ring in early 2000s. Sadly, the movie reeks of this hackneyed style which looked fresh only the first time it’s done in those days.

While the supporting characters of Mon Confiado’s and Epy Quizon’s are comfortable, Maria Isabel Lopez’s Aling Herminia is a revelation. Her portrayal of the relihiyosa in the less-than-two-minuter scene as the partera (quack midwife) is eerie and astonishingly original. The rest is unmemorable.

  In some instances, also, both of the main characters deliver their intense scenes well. For one, Erich Gonzales’s childbirth is more convincing than other women who fake their ires and arrays in most films; while Ramsay’s macho tendencies and naturalness are without question.

The mestiza face of Erich Gonzales may be deemed realistic because she was said to be the love child of her mother and an American soldier during the war. But the placing of Derek Ramsay as the farmer Daniel, whose roots we barely know, is farcical. If at all, the movie does not make clear the background of Daniel. He is too sculpted to be just a humble farmer in the barrio—does he hunt boars after he works out in the Fil-Am-Jap bodybuilding gym? Funny. Mon Confiado would be the more believable Daniel. Their metropolitan or cosmopolitan twang, could have been reworked to render their rustic characters more realistic. Talk of George VI reworking his tongue in The King’s Speech. The lead actors are too beautiful to be monstrous because they look too polished for these rustic roles. Ultimately they appear ridiculous. 

Movie Review

“Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang”

Erich Gonzales, Derek Ramsay, Mark Gil, Epi Quizon, Maria Isabel Lopez, Tetchie Agbayani

Directed by Richard Somes

Skylight Films, 2012

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Man and dog

Sa The Grey na binidahan ni Liam Neeson ngonyan na 2012, an walong survivor sa nagbagsak na eroplano haling Alaska— kabali an karakter niyang si John Ottway—nagkagaradan man giraray pagkatapos.

Guardia kan sarong oil drill team sa Alaska si John Ottway. An apod niya sa trabahong ini—“job at the end of the world,” kun sain an kairiba niya mga “fugitives, ex-cons, assholes, men unfit for mankind.” Kadaklan kan mga yaraon duman mga pusakal, hinarabuan kawasa sa danyos ninda sa sociedad.

Patapos na an kontrata ni Ottway, pinapauli na siya. Alagad kan solo-solo siya sarong banggi, nagsurat siya sa agom niya, dangan nagprobar siyang maghugot. Kan babadilon niya na an sadiri nin shotgun sa kadikloman kan niyebe, nag-alulong an mga lobo (wolves). Nakulbaan siya kaini. Dai siya nadagos maghugot.

Pauruli na sinda kan kairiba sa drill team; tapos nag-crash an eroplano. Sa gabos na sakay, walo sana sainda an nagkaburuhay. Sa wreckage, an ibang nagkaburuhay naghaharadit nagngungurulngol ta nagkagaradan sa impact an mga pag-iriba ninda. Si Ottway nakaapon sa harayo. Pero pagkagimata niya, hinaranap niya si iba. Nakabalik siya sa binagsakan.

Dinulok niya si Lewenden, sarong kaibahan na nagtuturawis an dugo sa tulak. Naghaharadit na an ibang mga amigo ninda. Nagngunguruyngoy. Hinapot ni Lewenden si Ottway kun ano an nangyayari. Sabi ni Ottway saiya na magagadan na siya. Pinabagol ni Ottway an luong kan lalaki. Kinaulay niya ni kag pighapot kun siisay an saiyang namomotan. Kinaulay niya pa astang dai nagdugay, nautsan na ni.

Dai naghaloy, pinangenotan ni Ottway an grupo. Hinambal niya sa ilang maggibo sinda nin kalayo, nganing dai sinda magkaragadan sa lipot. Magharanap pagkakan dangan magharali sa crash site.

Pagharanap ninda nin mga nagkataradang kakanon sa wreckage sagkod mga bagay na magagamit, nahiling ni Ottway na ginuguyod kan lobo an sarong pasaherong babae, nag-uungol pa ni kan sagpangon kan layas na ayam. Sinaklolohan kuta ni Ottway alagad gadan na an biktima. Dinulak niya an ayam kaya kinaragat siya kaini. Nagkadarangog kan iba kaya nasaklolohan si Ottway. Kinarne kan lobo an tuhod niya pagkatapos.

Sabi ni Ottway na tibaad kuta nin mga wolves an lugar kun saen nag-crash an saindang eroplano. Piggagadan kan mga hayop na ini an mga tawong nararabay sa saindang balwarte. Hambal pa ni John Ottway sa iba, dai man kinakakan kan mga sapat na ini an mga tawo. Kinakaragat man lang ninda, sagkod ginagadan, sabi niya. Sa layas na kadlagan, tibaad mayo sindang ibang madalaganan.

Minaray logod nindang magharali, magparalarakaw maghanap nin rescue ta harayoon an saindang natubragan. Bago sinda naghali sa crash site ta nganing madulagan an mga wolves na nag-atake sainda, nanganam si Hendrick, sarong doctor. Iyo ni an sabi niya, “I feel like we should say something. I feel like with all these bodies all people have died, it doesn’t seem right for us to walk away. “God bless these men. Some of them are friends we could be lying here with them.” Nagtingag siya dangan naghambal, “Thank you for sparing us; and helping us. O, and keep that up, if you can.” Alagad, sa katapusan kan istorya, mayong naginibo an pangadie kan sarong survivor na doctor. Gabos sinda sa dalan nagkagaradan.

Sobra sa kabanga kan pelikula, nagparararalakaw nagparadurulag nagparatarandayag an mga survivor parayo sa mga lobo; alagad bago man ini natapos, saro saro sindang nagkaurubos. Kan saiya nang toka pagbantay pagka enot na banggi, inatake kan lobo si Hernandez pag-ihi kaini. Siya an enot na nagadan sa grupo. Kaya sabi ni Ottway magharali na sinda duman. Pagparalarakaw kan grupo parayo sa crash site, nawalat man si Flannery sa tahaw kan yelo kawasa dai nakayahan an lipot sagkod an halawig na lakaw. Nawalat-walat siya dangan inatake kan mga lobo.

Pag-camping na ninda sa taas kan kabukidan, nahangog sa halangkaw na altitude an negrong si Burke. Sa saindang pigtuytuyan, magdamlag nagparaduros nin makusogon. Pagkaaga, nakua si Burke kan pag-iribang saro nang yeladong bangkay. Si Talget napilay kan makasabit ni sa kahoy pagrulukso ninda pabalyo sa halangkawon na salog. Kan buminagsak na siya sa daga, hiniribunan tulos siya kan mga ayam dangan ginuruyod. Si Diaz napagal na sana man magparalakaw kaya nagpawalat na sa may gilid kan suba.

Sa kadudulag sa naghahapag na mga lobo, naglumpat si Hendrick sa suba tapos nagpaatong sa sulog, nakairarom siya sa dakulang gapo saka duman nalamos. Si Ottway iyo an nakahampang kan alpha male, an pinakahade kan mga wolves sa mismo kaining kuta. Dai na pinahiling an saindang pagdinulak, kan inatake ni Ottway nin kutsilyo an ido. Sa huring ritrato kan pelikula, nakahandusay si Ottway, sagkod an maisog na hadi kan mga ido.

Sa pagdulag kan mga survivor, ginuyod ninda an pamimilosopiya kan kagsurat kan istorya. Linangkaba kan pelikula an konseptong naturalismo na pinadaba kan Pranses na manugsulat na si Emile Zola, sarong pagtubod na an tawo oripon kan saiyang sadiring natura. Mayo nin magigibo an inaapod kan ibang free will, o fighting spirit. Para ki Zola, sagkod sa mga nagsurunod saiya, mayong ibang minapaitok sa buhay kan tawo kundi an saiyang Kalibutan, an gabos-gabos na mga bagay-bagay sa saiyang kinaban. Garo man sana sinabi kaini na mayo nin kapas an kalag na magpapangyari para an tawo maparahay o mabanhaw an saiyang kaugalingon sa katibaadan.

Linangkaba man kan pelikula an vulgarized na konsepto kan survival of the fittest. Sa naturalistang kinaban, an hadi kan kadlagan iyo an layas na ayam. Garo daing kapas an tawong lampas an an isog kan mga hinayupak na mga ayam. Dawa gurano kaisog kan tawong hampangon an saiyang kaiwal niyang ini sa kadlagan, magagadan siya ta magagadan.

Sa climax kan sugilanon, nagprobar si Ottway na tampadan an bagsik kag an isog kan mga lobo. Nagtrayumpo man kuta siya alagad, kawasa an tawo sagkod hayop parehong nagadan, lininaw sa pelikula na nungka madudulagan kan tawo an ungis kan kadlagan, an layas na kabihasnan, kun sain tibaad an hayop, bakong an tawo—an hadi kan kagabsan.

Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon

nakulbaan, nakilaghanan

kag, sagkod

sa ilang, saindang

naghambal, nagsabi

naglumpat, luminukso

manugsulat, parasurat

mabanhaw, masalbar

kaugalingon, sadiri

sugilanon, istorya

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Binalaybay sa Halawód

Capiz-based writers read poetry marking RP’s Independence Day  It was an afternoon of history, poetry and fellowship.

A group of writers based in Roxas City and the neighboring towns of Capiz convened by brothers Leothiny and Virgilio Clavel took part in the Binalaybay sa Halawod, a poetry reading cum fellowship held June 11, 2012 at the Hontiveros Ancestral House beside the Panay River in barangay Plaridel, Roxas City.

POETS, PRIESTS AND POLITICIANS

Binalaybay sa Halawod gathered a number of writers across Capiz including (clockwise from top left) Francis Russel Varron of Roxas City;  Kenn Mendoza, marine transportation major from Colegio de la Purisima Concepcion; Niño Manaog, who hails from Bicol but who has settled in Western Visayas since 2005; Salvador Ochavo Jr. of Sapian; Dr. Leothiny Clavel, a Capiznon scholar based in Manila; Marvic Martires of Roxas City; Mass Comm major Rhiel dela Rosa of CPC; and Harold Ortiz Buenvenida of Panay.

No less than Roxas City Councilor Teresa Hontiveros-Almalbis hosted the artists in their Ancestral House, which stands at the riverside of the Capiz Bridge at the heart of the city.

According to Dr. Leothiny Clavel, the event’s convenor who is also a published Capiznon scholar, they made sure that the event be held in the ancestral residence of Sen. Jose Hontiveros, who is considered a historical icon.  Clavel said that holding the “Binalaybay” at the Hontiveros Ancestral House by the Panay River is significant because the house used to be the center of culture at the turn of the twentieth century, while the Panay River is also immortalized in Hinilawod, an epic of Capiz which tells of the adventures of Labaw Dinggin who traversed Halawod. Capisnon freedom fighters likewise traversed the route of the Halawod river in fighting the Spanish forces in the towns of Tapaz, Dumalag, Mambusao, Dao, Maayon, Panitan, Pontevedra, Panay and Capiz (now Roxas City).

According to Clavel, Binalaybay sa Halawod was convened to serve as an innovative way of commemorating the struggle for independence, because he believes “the annual celebration of Philippine Independence needs fresh approaches.”

During the three-hour fellowship which began at 3 p.m., Roxas City Councilor Teresa Hontiveros-Almalbis inspired the gathering by sharing their family history (see photo) which includes the illustrious career of his grandfather, Sen. Jose Hontiveros, who served Manuel Quezon’s Cabinet during the Commonwealth Period; her aunt, National Artist for Theater Daisy Javellana, wife of famous Ilonggo writer Lamberto Javellana; her uncle, the famous Jesuit composer Eduardo Hontiveros and her own daughter Barbie Almalbis who is a popular contemporary music artist. Playing the guitar herself, Councilor Almalbis also sang to the group her daughter’s popular composition “Tabing Ilog,” which was used as theme in a TV series in the late 90s.

After the host’s sharing, the gathering witnessed the reading of binalaybay (poems) penned by Francis Russel Varron of Roxas City; Salvador Ochavo Jr. of Sapian; Harold  Ortiz Buenvenida of Panay; Marvic Martires of Roxas City, Leothiny Clavel who is a Capiznon now based in Manila, and Niño Manaog, a Bikolano who migrated in the Panay Islands in 2005.

The poets read their works which fell under three themes—social, economic and political themes, with the last brimming with works satirizing the government and the irony of the celebration of independence. Some works were plays with words, while others attacked the current social realities.

Two students from Colegio de la Purisima shared to the audience their binalaybay. Kenn Mendoza read “Sunog nga Libro” which laments how modern-day leaders have turned from public servants to feudal lords, the very people the heroes of the past fought against; while Mass Communication major Rhiel dela Rosa shared “Sa Akon Henerasyon,” which compares the past and the present youth and enjoins them to learn from the lessons of the past. 

According to the organizers, the initiative sought to promote Capisnon (or Kinapisnon), the language of Capiz, as a vehicle of poetic engagement and as a window to the literary world of the province. More important, it did not only provide a venue for poets writing in the Capisnon language to gather and read their poems in celebration of the freedom of creative expression; it also allowed poets to affirm their freedom of creative expression, which is considered “an important result of the struggle.”

Clavel said that the Hontiveros residence will be cited as part of the cultural accounts of the event and in the book which will feature the same harvest of poems read in the memorial. 

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Paghâdit

Úkon muya mo sang mas námî nga terminolohiya—angst—(hambál sa Aleman), saro sana ining normal na ugali kan tawo. Sa katunayan, susog ki Martin Heidegger, sarong pilosopong Aleman, kaipuhan ta man nanggad an maghâdit sa satong buhay. Siempre an sobrang paghâdit—dawâ ano man na bagay na sobra o labaw, bakong marhay. An marhay kaiyan, susog sa sako nang inagihan, kun kita naghahâdit, maghâdit lugod kitang sagad. Kumbaga, sa modernong paghambal, career-on ta an paghâdit. Sabihon ta sa sadiri ta na naghahâdit ako ngonyan, dangan paurogon ko gid nga mayád an paghâdit na ini. Nin huli ta nag-aaram kitang marhay na naghahâdit kita, tulostulos ini malalampasan ta. Nagiging kabudláyan an paghâdit kun madangog kita sa ibán nga nagasilíng indî kita magparápanumdóm. An matúod sinâ, maghâdit ka kun gusto mo, alagad magparahâdit kang mayád sagkod na mag-abot an tiempong dai ka na naghahâdit.

Elmer Borlongan, “Grass Fire” 

Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon

úkon, o

sang, nin

námî, marháy

nga, na

hambál, apód

gid, nanggád

mayád, marháy

kabudláyan, sákit

ibán, ibá

nagasilíng, nagsasábing

indî, daí

magparápanumdóm, magparahâdit

matúod, totoó

sinâ, sa árog kaiyán

Susog sa “Worry” na yaon sa Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes A. Gaertner. New York: Viking Penguin, 1990, 38.

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Ehersísyo

Buot silingon an pisikal na pag-ehersisyo, nalangkaba na man na marhay kan iba. Siring kan ibang tawo, an mga inaapod na atleta o mga parakawat, nagkakagaradan man—bako man talagang mas haralawig an buhay ninda. Pwede nganing mas amay sindang magadan kawasa kan ehersisyo. Dangan kalabanan, bako man sindang orog na mabaskog ukon mas maogma kaysa sa iba. Matuod nga mas marhay gayod an pamatyag ninda—mas marhay an pagturog sagkod normal an timbang ninda.

Alagad mas orog na may kwenta an maayo nga pamatyag sang kalag. Marhay-rahay na mag-unat kita kan kalamias ta, alagad orog na igwang saysay an mag-unat kita kan satong panumduman, o paayuhon an salud kan satong kalag. Orog na igwang balor an magin baskog an satong kalag sa atubang nin Dios asin tawo.

Pansegunda sana digdi an gabos na ehersisyo kan lawas. Igwang merito sa baskog na lawas, alagad mas igwang biyaya sa mabaskog nga kalag. Kadakul sa makukusog na tawo mga berdugo; darakula mga kalamias ninda alagad an ugali daingdata.

Sa pag-ataman kan lawas, bastante na gayod na sa araaldaw, nakakapamus-on ka; kag nagpapalas ka kan kuko mo kun an mga ini haralaba na.

  Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon

buot silingon, gustong sabihon

kalabanan, kadaklan na beses

ukon, o

matuod, tama

nga, na

maayo, marhay

pamatyag, pagmati

sang, kan

paayuhon, pakarhayon

baskog, marahay an salud

baskog, makusog

nakakapamus-on, nakakaudo

Susog sa “Exercise” na yaon sa Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes A. Gaertner. New York: Viking Penguin, 1990, 100.

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Kusóg

An kusóg kan satóng láwas saróng naturál na regálo satô. Puwedeng mapaáyo an satóng lawás kan ehersísyo, pagkakán, kalinígan sa láwas, sagkód an marháy na ginigíbo sa araaldáw. Alágad pirmíng laín an sinasábi kan media; mayô man talagang nahihirá sa naturál tang kusóg. Dai man kitá pwedeng magín mas mabaskog na labáw sa káya kan lawás na iwináras satô. Ibá na man na uruláy an kusóg o baskóg kan kalág. An mga pílay o inválido o dawâ idtóng mga pigtaratsarán na maluya, sindá pa lugód an nagpapahilíng nin ísog asin báskog. Nakakagíbo nin kangangalásan sa kalág sa ísip sagkód buhay kan táwo an pagmâwot, an pagpursigí. An síring nga kláse sang kusóg—kadaklán na beses alágad bakóng pírmi—naghaháli sa mga táwong igwáng tinugaán, igwáng baláan nga paninindúgan, may yarâ sang kamâwotan nga labáw o suwáy sa sadíri nindáng kagustúhan.

Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon

mapaáyo, maparahay

nga, na

sang, nin

may yarâ, igwáng

baláan, sagrado, banal

Susog sa “Strength” na yaon sa Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes A. Gaertner. New York: Viking Penguin, 1990, 92.

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The Search Is On This school year, our search is on for the new batch of heroes.  Despite the ill effects of the media and other similar influences, we would want to think that a culture of admirable students still pervades our schools today. Everyday we see them going in and out of the campus, baring their persons in commendable degrees—a well-mannered, dutiful, cultured lot, whose real persons and stories need to be emulated; or to the very least, appreciated, at least appreciated. We are inspired by students who are courteous, basically tactful, reasonably straightforward, and not necessarily quiet. We see hope in a devoted student who keeps his word about submitting his late paper on Friday. Or what a delight it would be to meet a young junior who greets you one unholy afternoon with a forthright smile and a warm “Hi, Sir!” or “How are you, Ma’am?”  By these students we cannot just help but be astonished. And inspired. We see streaks of hope in a student who gives way to a teacher when he passes by their clique. We most admire one who asks to be given a task not only because he knows he will be graded for it but because he or she is convinced that there is something to learn from it. How about a student who offers a teacher to carry their notebooks to and from their classrooms? Or an anonymous someone—barely a class officer—who readily borrows the eraser from the teacher and cleans the writing on the board? We can’t help but be amazed by these basic, admirable values which are redundantly the essentials. Sadly, however, some of our students may not be through getting to know any elemental thing about these or any aspect of genuine learning, which can prepare them for life. Yet, all the same we remain optimistic that we have hope in some others who are otherwise—who do otherwise. So we move on to looking beyond what is obvious here and now. Frankly we believe it is not so hard to find a hero, an odd man out. Daily we launch a search for a student who does not conform to a culture that is tolerant of the vices of a child, the whims of Peter Pan or the caprices of a Dennis the Menace. He or she is one growing person who is willing to live and live well in good manner. One who will succeed and whose name will be worth every frame in a world’s nameless, priceless, unadvertised, and insignificant hall of fame—because he or she will be one etched in a teacher’s heart—one who will inspire the teacher enough until his or her retirement. It will not be so difficult to stumble on admirable persons who can make sense of what we have been doing the most of our lives. The search for these persons has always been on going. There are some students out there whose young lives can shed light to others—some who can deserve to be called not just students, but scholars.

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Mánggad

An mánggad o kwarta bakong grasya, bako man disgrasya. Ini segun sa kun pa’no nákua sagkod kun pa’no ginagamit. Pwede nganing sabihon na mas hapós an magin matinao, kag pirming naghihirás kaini kaysa mayo kaini. An ikinaiba sana kan igwang kwarta sa mayo, iyo an gahum, o kapangyarihan. Kaya gayod an mayaman labi na sana man an pagkahambog sagkod paabaw-abaw. Alagad ngonyan, uminabót na an tiempong an kayamanan saro nang kaulangan. Ngonyan, kaipuhan kan mga mayaman bakong magasto, bakong gayong magarbo. Mas marhay saindang dai nabibisto; mas marhay ngani na dai sinda bisto. Gabos nauuri sainda. Hinaharanap sinda kan mga taga-luwas. Dinudurukot sinda kan mga bandido; tinitirira sinda kan mga terorista. Huruphurupon ta, mas mayád man giraray an palakaw kan mga matuod na manggaranon kaysa sa gobiernong puwedeng imukna kan sarong ambisyosong pigado. Pag-abot kan tiempong yaon na siya sa poder, siya maha’bon kan yaman kan banwaan, malangkaba kan kapangyarihan, dangan papatioson itong mga nagpasakit saiya.

Susog sa “Wealth” na hale sa Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes A. Gaertner, Viking Press, 1990.

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Pag-antós

Napoon ini sa baskog na pagtubod na an kada kadipisilan igwang kalutasan; oras sagkod kapas sana an kaipuhan mo ta ngani na mapangyari ini. Naaagód kan ibang tawo ano man na kagabatan, an kada kadipisilan, mantang an iba nariribongan dangan naluluki-luki kan mga bagay na nungka ninda mina’wot o inasahan na mangyari. Ta ngani kang maka-antos, dai kaipuhan na matali ka, basta igwa kang sentido kumon sana—asin kusog na makagurapay sa mga pangyayari o bagay-bagay na saimo minaparatay. Ta ngani kang makaantós, kaipuhan maisog ka, magian an disposisyon, manginisi, nahihiling an gayon asin oportunidad sa gabos na bagay, pirming igwang diskarteng magpangyari an mga bagay na kaipuhan gibohon. Ta ngani kang makaantós, urog na kaipuhan na maisog ka. Idtong mga tawong nagtutubód na katabang ninda an Diyos o naggigiya sainda [an ano man na dyinodiyos ninda]  mas orog na makakaantós kaysa mga tawong an pagmate ninda garo mayo nang pag-asa o naghuhuna na pinabayaan na sinda. Likayan mo an mga tawong matalaw, o matapo’ sa kasakitan—apwera na sana kun ika doktor, padi o social worker. Dai nanggad paglingawi—an pagturog, an pagdiskanso, an pagkamoot sa ibang tawo, an interes na mabuhay sa kalibutan sagkod an pangamuyo amo an saimong pansagang, iyo an mapahapos sa tiempo nin kadipisilan, sa panahon nin kasakitan.

Susog sa “Coping” na yaon sa Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes Gaertner [1912-1996], Viking Press, 1990.

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Tolong dekada kag lima nang taon kang buhay. Daw yara ka na sa tungâ sang bilog mong buhay. Mga 35 pang Biernes Santo, o kapistahan ni Santo Desiderio, tibaad mayo ka na; hilingon ta. 

Treinta y cincong taon ka nang sigeng obra. Haloy ka na man palan ogma. Haloy kan na man palan sigeng gama-gama. Tibaad 35,000 nang beses kang pinapangadie ni Manoy mo ni Mente ni Manay mo ni Nene. Dai mo lang aram. Waay ka lang kasayod. Pirang ribong beses na daw nagsimbag sainda an Ginoo? 35,000 nang Santa Maria an naingayo-ngayo ninda guro para sa imong indulgencia—poon kan aki pa si Maria, hastang namundag na si Tamara. Dai mo nariparo haloy na pala. Dai mo namangnuhan sana.

Tibaad 35,000 nang liwanag an nakalihis na. Anong hinalat mo, pasabong o kikilat? Dakulon ka nang nakilala, ni sarong anghel mayong nakita. Treinta y cinco. Kun bibilangon kan Mabuhay Miles, dai man daw 35,000 nang kilometro an nabiyahe mo—pakadto padigdi; pasíton pasadi; pahali papuli; parayo parani? Manila-Iloilo, Roxas-Kalibo. Davao-Manila, Ali Mall-Naga. Ortigas-Philcoa, Pasay-Laguna. Camaligan-Canaman, Calauag-Cararayan. Bagacay-Mananao, Manguiring-Magarao? Atulayan nadumanan na; an Caramoan dai pa. An Boracay mayong siram, sa Palawan ano daw an maabtan? Dakulon mo nang hinalian, dakulon mo nang binayaan. Ano an saimong naabutan; ano an papadumanan? Dawa nagsain-sain sa kalibutan, kamalig na namundagan pirming napapangiturugan.

An 35, garo man pitong lima. Ano daw gustong sabihon? Tibaad, 7 mga kanigoan sa lima-lima mong buhay kaipuhan nang isuhay. Tibaad, 7 kagabatan na 5 beses mo nang namatian dai pa nanggad nahinggustuhan. Tibaad, 7 kalag an haloy haloy nang naghahalat para mamisahan ta nganing an 5 mong kasalanan mapagaran. Tibaad 7 maninigong tawo an 5 beses nang nag-agi sa buhay mo paoro-otro dai mo lamang nariparo. Tibaad 7 sakramento kan pagtubod mo 5 beses mo dapat iseryoso.

Kun limang pito, 35 man giraray. Ano pa daw gustong sabihon? Tibaad—an 5 tawong saimong inidolo kadto, 7 semana kang naanáyo. Sa pirang ribong tawo dai mo sinda mabibisto; ta an mga arog ninda bakong ordinaryo. Sainda mo kaya nahiling kaidto an puwede mong magibo.  Kan dai ka ninda napatíso, naribong an saimong payo. Daog mo pa an nagkakan apdo. Tibaad an 5 mong tugang 7 beses mo dapat mamo’tan. Tibaad, an 5 babaying saimong nabisto, nakaulay, pinahalat, kinaputan, pignamitan, pinahibi, huminali dangan ngonyan giraray naghahalat, sa 7 buhay mo man pagbabayadan.

Poon kamo nagkakilala, 35 miliones na beses kang naogma. Kaiba si Anna, kaiba si Maria.  O tibaad, labi pa. An 35ng toneladang ogma na nadama sagkod pait kaining kaiba, sa laog kan sarong aldaw sana, dai ngani 35 segundos nadulâ na. Ngonyan maano ka?

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Suddenly, last summer

Back then, we had a hundred and one ways to spend summer, if only to while away the absence of friends in April or survive the heat of May.

Once we set up a table borrowed from the grade school library to serve as our table tennis court. Not long after, the table tennis table burned in the whole days with my brothers all bent on mastering the newfound skill of ramming down a small ball into the brown board so the opponent goes off the court with the ball clueless where the ball went or wherever he himself went.

Not long after, the table tennis pastime became an addiction that Mother saw there was problem with it—we were glued to each other’s “performance” as if all we had to do was to prepare for some “tournament”.

I wonder whether the table tennis “tournament” materialized. Perhaps Mother said the school library already needed the table sooner than the first enrolment week in June. So I think the table tennis table had to go as we also had to prepare to go back to school—but not our newfound acumen for precision or skill for timing which we learned from each other or together. Talk of quality time in those days.

"...I have felt for many years that if I had children and a television set I would insist on putting an empty box next to the set; for every hour my children watched television they would have to spend an hour creating their own play with the empty box…

We would go visit our cousins downtown to watch the nightly feature on our aunt’s Betamax movie (ware) house. But the nightly feature was more of a bore because we watched films with the rest of the barangay who paid for their nightly entertainment of Bruce Lee films and Ramon Revilla flicks. What I looked forward were the times we would rather spend time for ourselves after or before watching a film on their Betamax set.

Once, my younger cousins and I watched Gary Valenciano’s Di Bale Na Lang perhaps a hundred times in a short time, say, a week or a month. The elder cousins always watched the same tape, so watch the same single film we younger cousins did, too—twice, five times, ten times, perhaps indeed a hundred times, now and then telling the same story to ourselves, laughing at the same funny scenes for a number of times and memorizing the actors’ lines in the long run.

It was not that our cousins had no other tape to watch. But that was how we chose to entertain and please ourselves. Imagine watching the same show through the days of the week—or sometimes many times a day. We perhaps internalized some of the characters from the flick that we even eventually behaved like them in our own persons. Characters which we, through the years, would later become.

"…We need to take up activities that truly engage us with ourselves and others—music, painting, poetry, dance, massage, cooking, hiking in nature—not to pursue prizes or with a mentality of judgment but rather as we would approach prayer itself, for that is what these actions are—acts of meditation and art as meditation."

In the year, we would climb the kaimito and santol trees even before they started dropping fruits on our open yard. Or we would fly airplanes made from scratch papers after our studies were over. 

When it rained, we would make paper boats and roll them into the small river that flowed from the foot of the hill where our house stood. Or where today it still stands.  These days I find myself standing still, taken aback by days of old, helplessly enchanted by the empty spaces that these and other such memories always create in the mind. After so many years, the colors are as vivid, the air as fresh as with childhood. Everyone then, regardless of where we went or what we did, seemed uncomplicated. It was as if every single thing was in place. 

Then, we did not bother so much where and when and how we would want to be. If at all, then, we were always happy and free.

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Of all your activities in a year, traveling tires you the most. It requires you to do the things you don’t usually do, or want to do.

The night before you take the early morning flight, you pack a set of clothes and things. You become critical which wardrobe to use—which shirts to bring for the simbang gabi or wear during the family’s media noche, which jacket to leave behind because it weighs more than the bag itself. You do not bring gadgets that won’t serve any purpose during the family reunion. You need to bring only the things you need.

In the black duffel bag which weighs less than a kilo, you accommodate all your sensibilities. You like the bag very much because it is too light, yet it cannot make room for some 20 things you have acquired in the past twelve months—clothes, gadgets, books and personal accessories. You wonder then where you can put your food—solid or otherwise—so you don’t get hungry along the way, so your ulcer doesn’t worsen. You see you cannot bring a lot of things. You realize you need not be attached to them even as Nene, your sister always told you.

Traveling from Visayas to Luzon and back, you badly need to travel light. But you know you won’t be able to. After putting inside the bag only the stuff you need, other things would turn up and “bring” themselves to you as you further prepare to leave. The one bag of all your necessities becomes two plus three “hand-carries” so that they contain the pasalubong and other holiday gifts.

You look at the trinkets and accessories and handicrafts made from coconut shells by your humble farmer cooperator Nong Bebot and his wife and children in the sleepy town of Ivisan in Capiz. You cannot just leave them behind because months ago yet, you already prepared these masterpieces as gifts to your brothers and sisters and nephews and nieces. You miss them dearly you have not seen their persons lately you will give them things to remember you for.

The next morning, you catch the shuttle van from the mall and off you go to the Santa Barbara airport—along with three big bags and some heavier anticipations. Some 27,000 feet up in the air, you think of Manoy, your eldest brother, brandishing the souvenir toy car made from coconut shells as his prized possession. You remember how you insisted on Nong Bebot to personalize this sort of gifts by writing the names of your brothers and yourself on the toys’ little hoods and bumpers.  The effort and the artistry involved in making these novelty products are essentially what you want to share to your family. For you, such are the best things to share. But you also think maybe just like birds and such other animals scattering branches and things from one habitat to another, you act as an agency of trade but also a messenger of the arts. You act as a middleman good for someone’s business but virtually you are also an agent of sharing in the holiday season.

You anticipate how euphoric Manay, your sister in-law, will be once she tries on the three-layered necklace made from coconut shells and beads. You imagine her welcoming the New Year with all these circles and similar things on her; you wish she will be more financially secure this time because you have always been told it is best to meet the New Year with ball-like fruits and spherical things in people’s pockets and dining table. You combine superstition with religion. Yet, even when you cloud your faith with some Jojo Acuin rhetoric, one perennial truth remains—you long for the family you’ve missed all these months you have been away from home.

Sooner, you will hear thank you from them but maybe what you will get is utter silence. Maybe their being quiet means they want something else from you. Maybe they will want what they have always wanted from you year in year out. Something more than what you can always give—they will want you to be happy. And perhaps their silence will say they are not convinced that you are.

Of all your occupations, going home thrills you the most. You always want to bond with the family you missed once you’re given the chance. Year in, year out, you appreciate it is the best and only space that you are born to fill. You are only their own blood, nothing else.

  Your plane landed quite ungracefully it almost wanted to smash the passengers’ bodies on the ground, but then you thank the Lord for having inspired the pilot to have taken the safest air paths faithfully. The entire trip, you have kept your fingers crossed. The crew announces you have arrived five minutes earlier than expected. Thank you, Sir, the flight attendant says as you disembark. You smile and yawn.  

As you now greet the smoggy air, you see Manila, the noisy, sprawling metropolis. The sight of tedium and traffic greets you. You shake off some jetlag by humming with Julio Iglesias on your mp3 player. But you see you need to be more alert. You have to keep an eye on your valuables, because you remember this is Manila.

You wouldn’t want the three bags to be reduced to two or one as you make your way further out the terminal. Even though you badly wanted to travel light, it should be okay for you to bring these other luggage for the sake of family.

Far beyond the traffic inching its way through Pasay Road, you picture Maria and Xhanemma, your nieces opening their gifts back in your brother’s house in San Vicente, breathlessly trying on the quaint bracelets, and pairing them with the equally artful earrings made of payaw seeds. Where else would you want to go?

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I do not like nature trips very much.

I feel that elementals roam the hills and mountains. And going there in droves — like we fellows of the Iligan National Writers’ Workshop did on our last day of the workshop — surprises them. And If I am exhausted in a trip going to a destination, it is enough reason for me not to rave about it.

Then, I saw Tinago Falls.

Seeing the white waters falling off a very high cliff, I did not express much enjoyment. I respected the sight more than I was awed by it. So I uttered “Tabi, Apo” a number of times as if to seek permission for us to pass through from the unnamed engkanto and elementals dwelling there.

Later, I could not get enough of the view of the falls, so I swam.

But I swam alone, using a lifesaving jacket. I wanted to breathe away from the company of the fellows. I sought the part where the water did not overwhelm much. In the side of the major falls, I enjoyed the water falling down on me inasmuch as I enjoyed myself frolicking for a while with some of the local children.

I swam and explored the water myself. I wanted to unwind and relax after days of overloaded critiques and evaluations of our talent, or the lack of it, as in the words of one of our panelists — the poet German Gervacio — our own senses of angas and duda.

In the water, I seemed to have forgotten the fact that I swam. I nearly dozed off floating.

On our way to Mimbalut Falls, the next stop for us, two local boys saw our car and ran after us. The boys did not stop until they catch up the car and perched themselves at the back of it. Upon seeing them, some fellows said, “Uy, Brokeback!” perhaps thinking they were Ennis del Mar and Jack Twist in Ang Lee’s gay epic, Brokeback Mountain. Then I thought writers really have a peculiar way of making up and recreating realities for or about themselves.

But I also began to be curious of the children — they just looked too sad to be going there with us for swimming, I thought. No one talked with the boys. They were just quietly perched in the rear of the car until we reached the falls.

I did not swim with the group. I was exhausted after climbing the steep elevations of Tinago. The group now frolicked more openly in the shallow, more accessible falls. Instead, I took their pictures. I took pictures of people who posed before the falls, rocks and bridges.

I hardly took pictures of the trees or woods without any human subject. I just did not want to discomfort other beings in the place.

I felt too empty being in such a solitary place. I saw that there were few people there. The place looked more sacred to me than entertaining — quaint rather than relaxing. I could hardly hear the frolicking swimmers as they did in Tinago; their voices were muffled by the falling waters, insulated by the rocks that covered them.

So I went back to the car. Hearing the duliduli from a distance, I hardly had words to say. It was like my turn to listen to nature and not to disturb it even with my presence. So I slowed down.

Then I saw the two boys again. They sat on the rocks, munching pieces of fruit or something which they must have found in the woods near the river. They looked hungry. I approached them and started to talk to them. I spoke to them in Filipino, hoping they would understand me, and they did.

I came to know that they were brothers. One was a year older than the other, but both of them are in Grade I. They just looked too old to be in Grade I. Talking with them, I sensed that they did not have much energy in them. They looked hungry.

We were about to leave when the two boys perched up again at the back of our car. In the car, the snacks were shared among the fellows. After each one was given their share, some of us shared the carrot cake with the two boys. Instantly, they took the bread, while balancing themselves at the tail of the car. Both of them smiled, now prancing like two little happy things at the back of our car.

When we were approaching the city, I seemed to have lost my interest to relax and unwind. I felt utterly empty. And lonely. I sensed things were just beginning to happen to me as soon as we left Mimbalut. In the car, the carrot cake looked very much like a Goldilocks bread to me; but it didn’t taste very good at all.

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A former chemist working for the Guimaras Foods, Inc., Rebecca Tubongbanua's decision to focus on food processing has virtually gained fruition through the years. In 2003 she started processing mango jams on a 7,000-peso working capital.  From then on, her innovative recipes have gained considerable acceptance from consumers that she expanded to several other bestselling mango processed products that continue to rake profits in Iloilo and Guimaras.  Rebecca Tubongbanua's McNester product line which features low-sugar and sulfite-free dried mangoes and the delectable Mango ketchup has also been luring foreign buyers and investors since her business expansion was in full swing.  More important, Rebecca's openness to change and commitment to industry has even inspired her more to share the technologies to other people. Various entities from the local government units to the academe have asked her to share her know-how in these process technologies, much to the delight of students, public officials and the general public.  Since her appointment as MS in 2007, Tubongbanua has generously been sharing her mango recipes, while her products constantly sell like hotcakes in local and national trade fairs and exhibits