Christmas Wish...

I've been to Cabanatuan just this afternoon. Along the way, I saw the sudden rise of the rivers, heard the news about flooded places in my province, heard the requests of some over the radio for help...

I decided to just delete my previously posted Christmas wish. Replace it with a new one...

Peace on earth and may the victims of this disaster be comforted by the hands of God...

Si Tita

Tatlumpung taon. At dito nagtatapos ang pamamalagi nya sa Munoz. Dapat nang umalis. Wala nang naging dahilan para mamalagi pa siya sa lumang bahay na kanyang pinagsilbihan ng tatlumpung taon.

Hindi madali para sa isang siyam na taong gulang mula sa Samar na mamasukan. Kaunti lang na puhunan para magtrabaho.

“Ni hindi pa ako marunong magsaing noon”. Kasama na ang puhunang nakakabasa, nakakasulat at kahit papaano’y marunong magkwenta.

Kapitabahay namin si Tita na tinawag namin nito bilang pagsunod sa tawag ng anak namin sa kanya. Nagsibi sa dalawang henerasyon ng isang pamilya. Nakapangasawa ng isang dayo rin mula sa Bicol pero hindi pinalad na magkaanak. At nang magkasakit ang mister, nauna itong umuwi sa mga kapatid sa Bicol. Naiwan siya sa Munoz sa hawak ang kaunting pag-asa na kumita sa muling pamamasukan habang nanunuluyan sa lumang bahay.

Walang ipinagkaiba si Tita sa ibang dayong namamasukan. Maliban na lamang siguro sa kanyang pagiging payat at maliit. Na marahil, resulta ng hirap at maagang pagsabak sa trabaho. Mula sa pag-iiwi, paglalaba, paglilinis at pag-aalaga ng mga matatanda.

Pero nagtatapos ang lahat. Siguro nga, dahil wala na ang ikalawang henerasyon na kanyang pinagsilbihan. Dahil hindi na siya nakasama man lang ng mga anak nito. Dahil may ilang tao rin gusting sumingit sa kahit papaanong pagtuloy niya sa lumang bahay.

Dapat na siyang umalis. Sa hindi man malinaw na utos kung pauupahan o ipapagawa ang lumang bahay. Dapat na siyang umalis dahil hindi na kailangan ang pagsisilbi ng isang tapat na kasambahay. O dapat na siyang umalis dahil may nagkakainteres sa kapirasong kubkuban na minahal niya at inalagaan.

Wala na ang mga matatatanda at marahil kasabay na rin nilang nawala ang mga pangako ng kapirasong lugar na puedeng ipamana sa kanila bilang tirahan.

Sampung libong piso at salamat sa tatlumpung taon. Ito ang huling pabaon kasama na rin siguro ang ilang tulong at taunang aginaldo nang yumaong matanda. Ito ang halagang pinagsilbihan niya ng tatlumpung taon. Na sana’y sapat ng simula sa muling paghahanap ng lugar sa Bicol.

“Ibebenta ko sana sir yung ilang pirasong yero para pamasahe…”

“Babalik din ako, Ma’am…”
“Siningil pa ako ma’am sa tubo ng nautang ko nung magkasakit si Paeng. Kinuhang pambayad yung tricylcle na naipundar namin…”
Huling gabi ni Tita sa Munoz. At luha lang at hinanakit ang pakimkim ng tatlumpung taon. Dahil hindi nagpapatuloy ang pagkalinga ng mga pinagsilbihan hanggang sa anak.

Kung mayaman lang ako.

“If I can stop one heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain.
If I can ease one life the aching
Or cool one pain
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again
I shall not live in vain.”

Emily Dickinson

Binata na si Ni-J

Sinamahan kong mag-enrol si Ni-j sa CLSU kahapon. Finally, nakapag-decide na kami na doon siya mag-aaral. Sa mahigit 400 takers, kasama siya sa 80 na nakapasa sa CLSU Science High School. Isang proseso na February pa lang ay pinaghandaan na ng mga review sessions sa school niya, tutorials at review classes ng isang student organization sa CLSU. Kasabay ko na siyang papasok tuwing umaga.

Hinayaan kong pumilang mag-isa si Ni-j sa CLSU Hospital para sa kanyang medical. Kahit nasa medyo malayo ako, nakita kong masaya siyang nakipagkwentuhan sa isang dati niyang kaklase na sa CLSU rin papasok.Parang kailan lang, siya yung batang mahilig mag-aya sa Star City. Ngayon, heto na at hindi na halos sumasama sa lakad naming mag-asawa.

Independence. Hindi na nga musmos ang anak ko. At mas matangkad pa sa akin. Ayaw na nang hinahalikan o niyayakap. Ayaw na ring matulog na kami ang katabi. Ayaw nang tinatatawag na baby. Napakabilis ng panahon.

Mahaba rin ang naging pilang mga batang nagmula pa sa iba’t-ibang bayan sa Nueva Ecija. At pagkatapos doon bumalik kami sa Science High School at hinayaan kong siya rin ang magbayad sa lahat ng fees ng enrolment.

Habang pinapanood ko siya kasama ang ilan pang freshmen na nag-eenrol, napapatahimik ako. Sa kabila ng seryosong pag-aaral dito, sana nama’y matapos niya nang maayos ang high school.

Sa Ikmuhan at Hitsuhan

Saan na nga ba ako mamimingga
o kaya’y gagaod na tikwasan upang diligin
ang kahapon at palaguin ang ikmuhan
kung ang tubig ay dumadaloy na sa gripo
at hindi na sa mga biyas ng kawayan?

Saan ko pa ba tataluntunin ang landas ng tumana
kung nilisan na ng panahon ang malalabong lupa
at iilang palad na lamang ang nais maputikan
o mga paang di pinapansin ang kalyo at bakukang?

Bakit nga ba hindi ko mapag-abot ang pisi
ng kahapon at kaunlaran?
Kung nasisimento na ang tumana
at tinatayuan ng mga bahay,
kung angil na ng motor at saksakyan
ang naghaharing ingay
at hindi tilaok ng tandang o kuliglig man lang,
at kung ipinagpalit na ang pagnganganga
sa makunat na chewing gum.

Hinahanap hanap ko ang mga hitsuhan,
ang pinaghalong tamis at anghang ng apog, maskada
at hindi mapagtantong lasa ng tila batong bunga,

habang sinisermonan ng ngumangata kong Inang.


(para sa halos hindi na matagpuang mga ikmuhan sa pinagmulang bayan)

Simple Joy

On his 6th Grade, my son already knows how to play the guitar...

The Class of 1988

Twenty years. Ganito na katagal nang magtapos ako ng high school sa hometown ko. At sa panahong iyon, siguro’y mga tatlong beses pa lang akong naka-attend ng “get together” ng klase namin. Iyon ay noong nasa kolehiyo pa ako. Pero nang makagraduate na, hindi na ako nagkaroon ng pagkakataon na maka-aattend. Ang daming naging priorities lalo’t higit ngayon na trabaho ang nagungusap.

Ano nga ba ang twenty years? Ang tagal na noon. Halos hindi ko na ma-recall ang memories ng high school. Maliban siguro sa isang lumang two-storey Quirino Building na gawa sa kahoy o ilang kaklase na hanggang ngayon ay nakikita ko pa rin o nakaka-chat sa internet. Hindi ko na halos ma-recall kung paano nagsimula ang pagbubuo ng mga pangarap o pagsi-set ng directions at priorities para makabuo ng mas magandang kinabukasan. At sa dulo, tanong pa rin siguro kung narating nga ba ito o hindi. O kung yumaman ka ba, o kung nasa Pilipinas ka pa ba o kung gaano na kataas ang posisyon sa agency na pinapasukan mo o sa isang establishment na maaring ikaw ang may-ari. O kaya --- kung buhay ka pa ba pagkaraan ng twenty years.

What makes reunion interesting ay yung makita mo ang dati mong mga kaklase. May pumayat, may tumaba, may gumanda, may nagmukhang matanda, may maraming anak, may binata o dalaga pa rin, may nagshift ng career…at ilan pang endless possibilities after twenty years.

Pero sa dami na ng mga nangyari sa buhay, sa dami na ng mga pinagdaanan, may ilang malilinaw na mukha pa rin sa traces ng memorya ng isang aattend ng reunion. Sila yung mga teachers. Ang mga taong nag-inspire, nagturo, minsang kinainisan natin dahil sa hirap ng subject pero pinasasalamatan natin ngayon dahil kung wala ang mga karanasan at influence nila sa thoughts natin, sigurado, hindi tayo ang mga taong magkikita-kita sa reunion. Sila ang higit na naghubog ng hugis ng pananaw natin.

Sino nga ba ang makakalimot sa mahirap na Mathematics, sa relasyon ng x sa y, o paghahanap sa isang nawawalang side ng triangle, o pagtingin sa isang geometrical figure? O kaya, sa hindi pakikipag eye to eye contact sa teacher kapag hindi mo na alam ang sagot.

Hindi ka rin makakaligtas sa isa-isang pagbibigay ng sentence o pagmememorya ng ilang bagong vocabulary words na naka-post sa bulletin board. Na kung hindi pa tayo tumanda nang ganito at nagkolehiyo, hindi pa natin marerealize na napakagandang training pala ng sistemang ito.

At dahil nakita na natin ang bahagi natin sa lipunang ito, mas na-aapreciate na rin natin ang Noli Me Tangere at El Filibusterismo na noon ay pinagtatawanan pa ang ilang kaklase kapag role playing na.

What really is twenty years? What have we done with our lives? with other people? Panahon ang nagtatakda ng pag-unawa natin sa mga bagay na minsang hindi natin napahalagahan, at panahon din ang magsasabi kung may silbi nga ba ang dalawampung taon matapos tayong umalis ng high school.

Teacher + ICT

As a subject requirement,I asked my IGS students to post on their blogs their perspectives on technology. It was indeed interesting to read some lines from their outputs...

"I find technology very helpful and the quality of what one does with the technology would simply become a replica of the depth of knowledge one has gained, some kind of personality shift; wider perspective, neutrality in dealing with people, understanding other's situations and enjoying what we have in our country(as compared to others who grew on war torne countries) despite our being in the third world. Its understanding that despite being in a poor country, we still have much more than others have in their respective countries. It still is a must for one to keep abreast of the most recent technologies and making use of them productively and help others benefit from such use." Arnulfo de Luna, PhD Student

"Disadvantages depend on the person using the technology because some people use it to do bad things to other people such as that of the hackers and some who do pornographic sites to earn money...For now I will take the advancement of technology one at a time and i will be responsible to do things that will not harm other people." Laarni Germino, MS Ed Student

"If we are to immerse ourselves in the analysis of the real impact of technology, we can deduce that sometimes, inventions lack anchorage on ethics. Nuclear weapons can kill a multitude of people and can even erase a place on the map. The YouTube can showcase to the viewing public the most private and intimate moment of an individual. The internet, particularly the wide array of search engines, facilitates an easy routing to rich reservoirs of porn materials.

Undebatably, technology should be viewed from different angles. It could be God's angel or a devil's trident. It solely depends on how we use it." Jaypee de Guzman, MS Ed Student

...and I agree. In the advent of technology, pressing ENTER on the keyboard really, has to be accompanied by a strong sense of virtues.

Enjoy your semestral break!

On Inang's Memories

For 14 years, she was with us. She was able to assist my parents in taking care of us. The fact that my parents were both just teachers would seem impossible for us then to get a maid or yaya and thus, her company was a big help for us. It has made us feel safe and secured whenever Tatay and Nanay were going to work.

During fiestas, she wouldn’t forget to bring home some food for us. For her, we were her little angels. We were reminded of the fiesta of Gapan because she wouldn’t forget to always bring us paper mache horse and pop rice to cheer up our young hearts.

She would always love to share her meager pension to Nanay whenever the family ran out of budget. For her, to share whatever she could was a thing of enjoyment. All she wished for was for us to be good and close to our only maternal cousin Neneng.

I knew I was her favorite apo. She used to remind me of things about family ties and closeness whenever the three of us (my brother and sister) and Neneng would have petty quarrels over the choice of a television channel. She loved to tell me stories about Uncle Lito who was then in Mindanao for his work. For her, we were all her little treasures.

I was not at home when she died. She was stricken by cancer coupled with old age. The only thing I remember when she got sick was that she was fond of spending her remaining hours sitting on a chair near the entrance of our terrace as if she was waiting for someone to come. I also heard that she was trying to grip on my eldest nephew’s arm before she took her last breath while telling him “Magpapakabait ka”.

She was not rich. What she left was just an old aparador, a tocador and a narra bed where she spent her last remaining days. These were all collector’s items and I’m sure Nanay could make some amount of money if she could have only sold them.

I could not forget the old bed, for after Inang died, no one among us would like to sleep on that. With our young minds, the bed was just a heavy haunting piece of furniture which Inang would always love to treasure. It was the bed which travelled from Papaya to Polo when they moved there and eventually reached its destination, our home.

I went home last week for my parent’s anniversary and I found out that Nanay had already given away the old dilapidated aparador to someone else. The old tocador had been repaired, repainted and replaced with new mirror to suit their needs. It is only the old narra bed that still exists.

I spent a night in our old house. It was an uneasy feeling, but that night, my soul told me more about how my heavy weight could still be carried by the bed’s solijia. It was as if she was still there, trying to look after us and making us feel comfortable whenever we have problems. It was as if she was there saying “May awa ang Diyos apo”.

I am now thirty-six years old and will be turning thirty-seven and I am no longer afraid to sleep on my Inang’s bed.

The next morning, Nanay and I were able to have a short talk about the family. She mentioned how she tried to restore and make the bed look exactly the same as it was before. She said she would give such to my Uncle Lito, her only sibling, who has proudly named his only child Neneng after our Inang, Rebecca.