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Bisaya Bloggers » 2005 » November

Nov 30 2005

Happy Birthday Daddy Boni

71 and counting. Yey! A lot of people said you don’t look like 7 decades plus a year old and to me it seems like you’re forever 50. It must be because you keep a healthy lifestyle both physically, emotionally and most of all spiritually. I can’t even remember you down with a fever. Of course, i’ve heard you sneezed and whizzed and drink Allerin to give the cough a smooth transition from hard to manageable but that’s all that ails you. And i’m so glad about you taking care of yourself, your health most especially as you religiously take your daily supplements of Revicon vitamins. Yet, you mentioned over the phone that the multivitamins I sent you makes you feel more stronger. Yay, it must be because you’re such a sentimental guy and knowing that moi would be all aglow of the unworded grateful words, you sure had me thinking it’s your way of saying «thank you» to me.

Daddy, the last time I saw you was months before our departure to Canada. It must be hard for you to have made an excuse not to see me at the airport because you hate «goodbyes» and I know you will miss me the more. Canada is not as close to Ozamiz as Cebu, I know and you will not see your unica hija anytime you would want to. I am your favorite daughter, remember? I still can mind-recall the many times you suddenly appeared in Nanay Idad and Tatay Pilo’s old house in Sinonoc on Sunday morning, ready to pick me up when I should have stayed until late afternoon. I wailed because I still don’t want to go but you always insisted that I should be home with you. Without ever telling me, I know you miss me and Jeric the moment we left the house in Ozamiz to stay the weekend with my grandparents and numerous cousins on mama’s side.There were countless of times when you travel all the way to La Union just so you can be with us after having spent three weeks without us in the house. I know, I got my very emotional side from you and my theatrical traits all thanks to you since it must be because, once upon a time, you almost made it in local showbiz, but for some unverified reasons, you were only delegated to be the most-sought after escort in Santacruzan and fiesta parade.By being over protective, you shielded me from boys, boys, boys and successfully I made it into college and law school without a child out of wedlock. I guess you shared mama’s worst fear that I would be giving you an «unwanted apo» because I was tagged as «boy crazy» and «mabarkada» in my teen years. Rebellious as I was, I dutifully attended all the dance recitals of my jazz school with you at the audience but I had you feeling disappointed when I begged off guitar lessons which you would have wanted me to take but never got the chance to really do it and now I regretted passing such an opportunity of being one of the acoustic artists in today’s world. I now agree that a father really knows what’s best for his child.Daddy, I am forever your little girl and it really brings good memories everytime I talk to you on the phone. You’re the first guy from where I heard the words «I Love You». You have given me a lot of talent and my love for reading started from the «pepe and pilar» book you used to read to us on Saturday and Sunday afternoons as I pulled the then few white hairs from your head (long before you had the «tina»). You and I fought a lot before especially if I don’t agree with most of your philosophies in life (you’re just starting out, i’m on my way back; i’ve been through that, believe me…blah.blah,blah) but I came to realized that indeed, your wisdom has guided me through the years. I admit I was so hard headed but most of your advices are still lodged in my mind, ready to be passed on to Nat and Gab, whenever they feel like listening to my words of wisdom in the years to come. Patience and discipline, these traits I got from you and of course, I am my daddy’s daughter in looks, too.

Happy birthday Daddy Boni, you’re my true hero and your parents have indeed chosen just the right name for you as you celebrate your birthday on Andres Bonifacio’s Day. I love you with all my heart and I am really hoping i’ll see you again soon.

Nov 29 2005

SIDE TRIP 31: Of Ebs and Flows

The toilet bowl in the room was squat-type. Darn. I didn’t know they still manufactured models like that. Guess I am so used to sitting like a king when I have to move my ebs that my senses revolt at the idea of now having to squat on the toilet floor to do it. Welcome to Indonesia folks! We’re actually having a workshop in Jakarta, the capital city, but the venue is a government training center and facilities are rather spartan. But the squatting-while-making-ebak stunt struck me as particularly hilarious and brought back a flood of memories.When I was a little boy, we lived in a small island sorrounded by mangroves. While we had a flush-type toilet at home, it was more fun to drop our bombs while perched on piyapi trees sa katunggan at low tide. Boys will be boys, heheh. Of course the nanays gathering clams and shells were not amused at all.When I was doing field work in the Cordillera, it was normal to have only dug pits as toilets. Basically, you dig a hole in the ground and cover it with wooden planks with a hole in the center. Around it for a little privacy is a waist-high covering made of used fertilizer sacks. When it is time for you to make ebak na, you look around a bit to see if there are people watching, drop your pants quickly and do your thing fast, otherwise large flies will start buzzing on your butt. Ew.But it was really enlightening when we were doing community consultations in Camotes Islands in Cebu to establish baseline information. We had focused group discussions with children and when asked «Asa mo galibang?», the children chorused:»Sa sagbutan!!!»

Right! 🙂

Nov 28 2005

Books and the National Bookstore

For lack of something to write about, I «copy» this article from my previous blogsite and «paste» it here……———I have been a big fan of National Bookstore ever since that first step into one of their outlets in Manila two decades ago. I love books and the smell of new book pages. I remember hardy boys, nancy drew, archie and the marvel comics are among the limited reading materials that came in a handy during my «teens». My selection eventually grew and included Sweet Valley High and Sweet Dreams from sophomore to my senior years in High School. And yes, Barbara Cartland too and thanks to her, my romantic nerve was born. In college, I dumped the hardy boys and nancy drew followed them almost at the same time. They were replaced by Mills and Boons and Silhoutte and other romantic books. Mind you, at 16, I have my dream man in my mind. A cross between Cartland’s and Janet Dailey’s men.Prior to College graduation, I came across Danielle Steel, yes, in one of my fewer trips to National Boolstore in Sta Cruz, Manila. That was when my romance with National Bookstore officially started.Reading Steel opened a floodgates of emotions. I was kind of lunatic every time I saw a Steel’s novel whether in a bookstore or in a friend house’s bookshelf. I became dreamy and emotional and sensitive at the same time. Thanks to NBS (National Bookstore) and Steel.My Manila vacations were cut the moment I started taking summer classes in College. It was a long hiatus for me and the NBS. In 1993, I came to Cebu to attend a seminar and I was overjoyed when I found out that SM Cebu has NBS in the mall. That time, my money afforded me to buy 2 Steel books. After I transferred my residence to Cebu, I checked out the mall and head almost directly to NBS for new books. All these time, I’ve accumulated almost all of Steel’s books published prior to 2002.My Steel’s nerve suddenly died when my former boss gifted me a copy of John Grisham’s book and offered the latest novel of Sydney Sheldon. Suddenly, my romantic side transformed into a certain emotion only lawyers and non-lawyers-pretending-to-admire-the-profession-and-took-law classes and bar exam like me can understand. From then on and now, I am an avid Grisham’s fan to the point of ordering books from Barnes and Nobbles or Amazon just to get his latest book. But thanks to NBS again, most of my Grisham collections came from them. Sheldon comes a close second to Grisham. I’ve read and reread all his books and now I believe I have another personality.Nicholas Spark came into my life one full moon night as I was cruising from Cebu to Ozamiz via the Cebu Ferries. I was out of books the day before my departure so I gladly scanned the bestsellers section of NBS and found an intriguing book by Sparks titled «The Notebook». I took it with me to my bunkbed and the next thing I know, I was crying. Now wait, I thought my sensitive nerve died but at that moment it suddenly resurrected. Arriving in Cebu a week after, I searched Sparks’ other books in NBS and read that same day «Message in a Bottle». Until now, i’m not over Sparks yet and looking forward to his books. This guy has definitely stirred back some dead emotions in me.NBS has surely almost emptied my savings account by now with all those books i’ve got from them. For two decades, my relationship with NBS has never been severed though at some points it cooled off but it never died down. Until there’s a NBS near me, it will always be my source of Grisham’s, Sheldon’s and Spark’s books and yes, the ever dependable Hallmark Cards.——

Now that i’m in Canada, thanks to the well-supplied and up-to-date books from the local library although I miss creasing the top of the pages as marker….

Nov 28 2005

Rest in peace…

It’s been a while since my last entry. I really missed blogging. I couldn’t post a new entry not only because I was pretty busy as I’m back to work after a three-week leave, but also because I wanted my sister to see/read the last entry since it’s about and for her. I’m not sure if she’s read it, though, since she hasn’t given me any feedback or reaction yet. Oh well, that’s okay. A lot of

Nov 28 2005

No Post?

The last few days have been spent by moi trying to decide which want-job should I apply. I hopped from one job site to another, hoping against hope that there’s no such requirement as «2-3 years experience in blah-blah field». I cringe at the thought of having to explain myself that I did have more than 3 solid work background in blah-blah field and was able to start from, literally, scratch when it comes to office administration and blah-blah accounting experience I gained from Philippines. This scenario of course, will definitely and absolutely be a possibility only if should I merit the chance to get to the interview stage for which, now that I remember, having fielded and sent about unaccounted numbers of application and having threw my resume in almost every company that I thought is worth getting into, I was only called for an interview four times, all these coming from placement agencies and none from the companies that hire employees without the aid of placement agencies. By «2-3 years experience» required, I am now 95% absolute that they mean -canadian experience.Bum.That’s why I haven’t got the chance to post some sensible thoughts lately. All thanks to my growing desire to get a job soon, remember hubby is on EI—-this is my chance to help augment our income and my only chance to put some sense into my resume and work that 2-3 years industry experience, pure luck I guess, counting that hubby’s EI runs only for a year and anytime the company will recall his services again, whichever comes first, hopefully, not the EI benefit period running out — by then, i’ll be in a great panic for obvious reasons.——-I have read and heard about the horror of landing/getting a permanent job, which is almost next to impossible if you’re not going to upgrade your work qualification by attending trainings or getting additional course and be affiliated with the organizations for regulated profession. The exception of course is when you’ve been charming lady luck and the job everybody’s after for is being drop on your lap. A lot have been said about this topic and I don’t want to put my one-cent worth because nothing that I say will change the system. I am but a small voice after all. On the other hand, I have nothing against any person who definitely turn their backs on studying again, as my husband is one of them. But I am always open to the possibility of getting a canadian diploma, not necessarily from U of T or York University but from local recoganized-by-the-government colleges. A few months back, I was almost certain about attending the accounting and payroll administration course had the school campus didn’t transfer to another bigger location that requires me to commute instead of just walking-till-I-get-there kind of transpo. I would have love to take the fulltime course if only I have the time and enough money to do it without sacrificing what’s left in our bank account and without having to leave the kids to a sitter for most of the days. That’s why I was/am still planning to take the night class schedule. Hopefully, next spring will see me juggling motherhood and schooling at the same time. I am really hoping that the next year will see us moving forward in terms of work stability, not necessarily for both me and hubby but either one of us should get a permanent job (one devoid of lay-offs or is there such thing as one?) while either one of us will take care of the kids while they’re not yet school-bound, the latter, I am more than willing to do.For the time being, I am sending my resume at the speed only me can measure and for tomorrow, i’m off to another job interview and evaluation/skill testing in another placement agency.

And as most of my friends say «Networking is the best way to find employment here», email me should you need a copy of my resume.

Nov 28 2005

Kada-Uwan is done!

Finally, the final cut of my short film Kada-Uwan is done. It will be shown on the next SALIDA event, as well as Jurly’s Sila.

Jurly, Den-den and I were talking last night about making a new short film. I cannot discuss the details as they are still sketchy and have to be finalized.

Nov 26 2005

Misa de Gallo Sa Kapilya Ibabaw Sa Bukid Sa Tolotolo


i

Pagkahabog sa tabyog
sa kahimatngon. Nagyunyon pa
ang kagabhion sa akong
tabun-tabon. Nagkipat-kipat
sa kanawkanaw— daw uyon sa kiling-kiling
sa lingganay— ang nangakay-ag
nga mga lugas sa kahayag sa dakbayan

diin kanhi kanunay kong nagabhi-an.

ii

Gahadla’g halok sa yamog
ang mga tuktuga-ok. Duyog sa duyan
ang tingog sa mga dalagita. Gitabangan ko nila
pagsibsib sa kahidlaw sa ilang Pastorela:

“Ang bitoon sa langit nga misidlak karon
Dili sama kahayag sa kanato midan-ag.
Sa halawom nga kagabhion gibanwagan kita
Sa Mesiya, sa Mesiya….”

Naduslitan og kahinam

ang natun-ogan nakong mga dunggan
dungan sa asu ug alimyon sa insenso.
Ang mga balili sa ting-init mora’g
milunhaw pag-usab sa akong panit.

Mitila kanako ang mga kandila.

iii

Gikalawat ko ang pagsubang
sa pagkaamgo. Bisan nagkayuring
ang pari— nakig-indig tingali
sa gadamgong yawit sa mga baki ug awit
sa mga gangis— mora’g gatas
nga mibisibis kanako ang buhagay
gikan sa mga ulay nga tutonlan:

“Wa ko’y bulawan sarang ikagasa
Ug wa ko’y pulong nga wa malitok sa uban.
Kining akong awit, kabus nakong awit
Hinatag sa langit ug imo karon.”

Nakighilawas ko sa kabuntagon.

Nov 26 2005

Misa de Gallo Sa Kapilya Ibabaw Sa Bukid Sa Tolotolo


i

Pagkahabog sa tabyog
sa kahimatngon. Nagyunyon pa
ang kagabhion sa akong
tabun-tabon. Nagkipat-kipat
sa kanawkanaw— daw uyon sa kiling-kiling
sa lingganay— ang nangakay-ag
nga mga lugas sa kahayag sa dakbayan

diin kanhi kanunay kong nagabhi-an.

ii

Gahadla’g halok sa yamog
ang mga tuktuga-ok. Duyog sa duyan
ang tingog sa mga dalagita. Gitabangan ko nila
pagsibsib sa kahidlaw sa ilang Pastorela:

“Ang bitoon sa langit nga misidlak karon
Dili sama kahayag sa kanato midan-ag.
Sa halawom nga kagabhion gibanwagan kita
Sa Mesiya, sa Mesiya….”

Naduslitan og kahinam

ang natun-ogan nakong mga dunggan
dungan sa asu ug alimyon sa insenso.
Ang mga balili sa ting-init mora’g
milunhaw pag-usab sa akong panit.

Mitila kanako ang mga kandila.

iii

Gikalawat ko ang pagsubang
sa pagkaamgo. Bisan nagkayuring
ang pari— nakig-indig tingali
sa gadamgong yawit sa mga baki ug awit
sa mga gangis— mora’g gatas
nga mibisibis kanako ang buhagay
gikan sa mga ulay nga tutonlan:

“Wa ko’y bulawan sarang ikagasa
Ug wa ko’y pulong nga wa malitok sa uban.
Kining akong awit, kabus nakong awit
Hinatag sa langit ug imo karon.”

Nakighilawas ko sa kabuntagon.

Nov 26 2005

Unsaon Pagdawat Sa Dili Makab-ot?


Ginhawa og lawom. Lumsiang imong kaugalingondungan sa imong dughan nga na-unlodhangtud ikaw molutaw uyon sa balaudsa balud. Subayaang sanglitanan sa baybayon.Dinhi ang mga tunob dilimolungtad, magun-obsama sa mga tore ug ginghariannga ginama sa balas.Dinhi ka puhon mabanlas. Ug dinhitingali imong matugkad konnganong ang mga manginginhaslupig pa’y namunit og mga bitoon

mata’g adlaw sa paghunas.

Nov 26 2005

Paghunas Sa Pag-inusara

(alang nilang Dindin Villarino ug Beverly Lomosad)

Bahin sa kamingaw, paminaw: kini
maaninaw ilawom sa atabay diin anaa’y
agukoy nga natanggong, nagdanguyngoy
og mga tigmo kansang mga tubag
natagik sa naglutaw nga dila sa sirena
sulod sa lata sa sardinas.

Apan pamati usab sa kanaas sa lawud

sa iyang pagkahaw-as. Natingob ang iyang tingog
ug nailhan gikan sa kinahiladman
sa kinhason kansang hunghong usa ka budyong
sa pagkakaplag. Masaw-an ug ha-om sa palad
bisan ang dili matugkad.

Nov 26 2005

Paghunas Sa Pag-inusara

(alang nilang Dindin Villarino ug Beverly Lomosad)
Bahin sa kamingaw, paminaw: kini
maaninaw ilawom sa atabay diin anaa’y
agukoy nga natanggong, nagdanguyngoy
og mga tigmo kansang mga tubag
natagik sa naglutaw nga dila sa sirena
sulod sa lata sa sardinas.

Apan pamati usab sa kanaas sa lawud
sa iyang pagkahaw-as. Natingob ang iyang tingog
ug nailhan gikan sa kinahiladman
sa kinhason kansang hunghong usa ka budyong
sa pagkakaplag. Masaw-an ug ha-om sa palad
bisan ang dili matugkad.

Nov 26 2005

Napisik


Kini mao’y ngalan sa dakung subanga mihiwa sa kasingkasingsa Misamis, ug dinhi si Corazonnagpalayo ug nagpalahi bisan duyogsa uraray sa tubig nga nakighilawassa duha ka managhigugmaay nga iyanggikuyogan sa pagsawum-sawom.Kini mihubo sa iyang pag-inusara.Siya mitalikod aron manaminsa kahayag sa iyang pamasin,ug miatubang sa sinugdanansa buhagay nga midasdas-dagaydaybatok sa mga bato, misugwak.Iyang mga bukton kalit mibukhad.

Kini mikaplag sa naanod nga buwak.

Nov 25 2005

MOSYAGIT KO OG SYATONG

Hagit ug Panaad sa Bisdak nga Magbabalak sa Bag-ong Siglo

Paper presented at the Forum on Cebuano Writing at the USC Audio Visual Room during the National Arts Month, February 2000, co-sponsored by the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), the Cebuano Studies Center of the University of San Carlos and the Akademiyang Bisaya

PAMINAW, duna ko’y ihunghong: Sa una, sa lunhaw pa ang akong panglantaw, ganahan kaayo ko moduwa og syatong.

Bisan pa man sa pagsanga-sanga sa mga katuigan, bisan og hagip-ot na kining panumduman, wala gyud nako kalimti kadtong lapad kaayong hawanan nga akong gidagan-daganan panahon sa akong pagkasip-onon.

Ah, kadtong hawanan duol sa tangkongan. Karon gitukoran na’g subdibisyon. Ug wala na’y gaduwa’g syatong didto karon.

Kaniadto, kada hapon, hangtud inig orasyon, kadtong hawanan usa ka kawanangan diin nagtuyok ang nagkamuristing kong kalibutan, diin ang adlaw-buwan-bitoon wala’y samang kahayag sa mata ni Bay Bobong nga kanako maagnihong moingon: “Ta na, dali dayon! Magsyatong na ta!”

Kon ikaw nagdaku sa pagduwa-duwa’g Nintendo, kon ikaw karon nagkayungit sa maagnighong mga tingog sa Internet, tingali wala kay kalibutan unsaon pagduwa’g syatong. Paminaw, mao ra ni imong kinahanglanon: Kahoy nga byatilis, kanang igsusugnod. Duha ka piraso lang niini. Ang usa sama kadak-a sa bunal ug ang lain pa, usa ka dangaw ang gidak-on.

Magkaw’t dayon ka’g lungag— ang gilawmon ug gilapdon igu-igo lang kon ilubong nako kining kalyuhon nakong tudlo o kini bang usa ka dunggan nga hapit nang mabungol sa Babel sa bag-ong panahon. Kinahanglan kusog kang mobunal. Kinahanglang’ taas ka’g gininhawa inig syagit nimo’g syatong. Kay kon dili lawum, kon dili taas imong utong, dili man malugwayan ang imong syagit lagbas sa usa ka hagit.

~~ 0 ~~

Isipon nakong sama sa syatong kining akong pakigbisug sa pinulongan ni Lapu-Lapu. Kay dili ba kining pagpamalak, sama sa syatong, makahangak? Kay dili kaha mabugto ang ugat sa akong li-og tungod sa tinguha nakong mabani-og ug maghadyong— sama sa hanging habagat— kining tabunon kong’ tingog?

Kon buot nakong’ madungog sa tibuok kalibutan ang diwa nakong Bisdak (Bisayang daku), wala ko’y pagduha-duha nga kinahanglang’ mosangko’g moutong sa kawanangan sa akong kahimatngon. Kinahanglan kining dila dili langyaw sa akong pulso ug kaugatan, sumpay sa akong pusod, ug lakip sa lisu’g gamut sa naandan kong kalibutan.

Kinahanglang’ magtiniil ko sa akong pagpadayon, ang yuta’g lapuk sa akong mga tradisyon kinahanglang’ magpabilin sa akong lapalapa aron dili ko masaag, aron molakra ang akong tunob lagbas sa mapangahason nakong pagda-ilos, aron ang mga tingog sa akong tanghaga mahimong lunhaw kanunay, magpabiling lunsay sa akong mata’g suliyaw ug hagawhaw. Sa akong pagpanaw subay sa bag-ong panahon, kinahanglang’ dili ko magdumili paglingi sa tanan nakong nalabyan aron dili nako malimtan nga kausa ako misutoy, misyagit og: Syaaaaaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttttttttttttoooooooooooong!

~~ 0 ~~


Tingali, mora’g misyagit og syatong si Lapu-Lapu samtang nangugat dihang gihagit ang taga-isla sa Mactan, iyang dila nag-aligato, nagkanayon: Dili, dili gyud ta magpalupig!

Karon, igo ra nakong tan-awon ang bantayog ni Lapu-Lapu atbang sa Kapitolyo, ug kini igo na aron akong madunggan ang syagit-hagit nilang anhing Vicente Sotto, Marcel Navarra, Vicente Ranudo ug uban pa. Igo lang nakong sud-ongon ang espada ni Lapu-Lapu karon, ug kini sarang na aron akong masabtan nga hait ug makasamad sab ang dagang nga gihuptan sa mga sakop sa Bathalad, Dagang Foundation, ug Ludabi.

Ug tingali, silang’ kanunay nagluhod sa altar sa lumad nga katitikan dili lang tingali tuhod nila ang samdan kon dili lakip na ang balatian. Kay kon dili pa, nganong alingugngog man ang ilang tingog? Nganong alingisig man ang ilang inagulo samtang nagmirida nga ang Binisayang katitikan padulong na kuno sa pagkaparot.

Wala na, matod nila, wala na gyu’y kaugmaon ang atong kaugalingong pinulongan. Kon ikaw mangutana ngano, ila dayon kang suginlan isip pruyba: ang basahong Bisaya nga kanhi kinaham sa kadaghanan nagkaminos na ang sirkulasyon karon. Dili ba tataw na kining timailhan nga ang mga katiguwangan mao na la’t nahabiling tigbasa sa Bisaya?

Ug kon pangutan-on nato ang mga bag-ong tubo, wala’y duda nga sila motamay: Klariks, uy, tiniguwang kaayo nang Bisaya! Baduy! Bisaya-a, uy! Kon ang lunhawng’ pangisip wala na’y luna ug panahon sa pagduwa og syatong, makagahin pa kaha sila pagbasa’g Binisaya? Lalisonon pa man gani kon ang bag-ong kaliwat modalikyat pa ba sa pagbasa sa langyawng’ pinulongan, Binisaya pa kaha?

Kon ikaw karon gi-uban na ug wala na’y ngipon, tingali modayon ka’g basul sa mga batan-on. Tingali ikaw igo na lang mangulihad ug moingon: Ay, sus, ang mga bag-ong tubo wala gyu’y nada! Lingaw-lingaw, ki-at ra gyu’y nahibal-an! Tingali, ikaw nga hanap na’g panan-aw, ikaw nga nagkampat na ang antipara, wala masayop sa imong punto de vista.

Apan dia’y pangutana: Mabasol ba nimo sa hingpit ang mga batan-on kon sila karon wa’y amor sa gitawag natong’ “literature”— inenglis man o inato? Dili kaha ikaw, isip lumad nga magsusulat, mabasol usab? Wala pud kaha ka makatampo nganong ang Binisayang katitikan wala mopatigbabaw sa nasudnong kahimatngon uyon sa atong gipaninguha, wala molipang sama, pananglitan, sa Tinagalog? Kay unsa ba pud dia’y ang imong ikapasigarbo sa bag-ong tubo? Unsa ma’y imong ipamatuod nga ikaw, sa imong pagtagik sa diwang Binisaya, angayan basahon sa kanunay? Unsaon nimo pagpanalipud ang imong sinulat kon duna’y moyamiid nga kini kinaraan, dili uyon sa bag-ong panahon? Sa iyang gumalaysay nga The Sanity of Art, si George Bernard Shaw nagkanayon: “The man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about all people and about all time.”

Unsa man ang panglantaw sa imong sinulat, nagpabilin ba kining tukma ug ti-unay sa panahon nato ‘ron? Nagkatakdo ba ang imong pagbati’g pagsabot sa mga nagkalandrakas nga tingog sa bag-ong siglo? Ang papel nga tuhup sa imong tinta mahimo bang kapanaminan sa malinglahong dagway sa kamatuoran karon nga ang teknolohiya daw tagolilong nga mo-ilis ug molingla pud sa kinaiya sa kahulogan?

Misantop ba kaha sa imong hunahuna nga ang MTV mahimo usab nga usa ka sangitanan, nga ang abrakadabra sa computer angay sab isipon nga usa ka tanghaga, nga ang kaguliyang sa binag-ong buhilaman usa usab ka hagit sa magsusulat aron ang lunsay nga tingog sa iyang diwa mopatigbabaw gihapon bisan pa man sa tanang hugyaw?

Gani, ang mga kalandrakas niining panahona mahimong igong kapasikaran sa binag-ong pagpaminaw, mahimong tuburan sa mga bag-ong pangutana. Ug karong panahona tingali tunhay ug takus na kitang makigbugno sa atong kaugalingon kon kinsa gyud kita.

Unsa’y atong luna sa kalibutan nga karon inanay nahimong usa ka global village, nagpamatuod sa tagna kaniadto ni Marshall McLuhan? Karon nga ang satellite ug digital technology mipakuyos sa kawanangan sa atong kahimatngon, unsaon nato pagpabiling matinuoron sa atong naandang tingog bisan kon ang atong dunggan dagha’g napaminawan?

Asa man kita padulong gikan dinhi? Ambi, kon ang pagtagik og Binisaya duna pa’y luna alang sa nasudnong panglantaw ug sa kalibutanong pakig-ambit sa hunahuna’g balatian, sayri kuno ko kon unsaon kini paglipang? Unsa man, lapad ba gihapon dinhi sa Sugbu ang hawanan sa katitikan? Kon mopadayon ta’g tagik og Sugbuanon, hangtud asa ang pag-utong sa Bisdak nga tingog aron ang tibuok kalibutan dili lang ang atong hunghong ang madunggan, kon dili lakip na ang pagsyagit nato’g syatong?

~~ 0 ~~

Ang bulok sa langit ug dagat dili lang pughaw, ug dili lang lunhaw ang mga dahon ug balili. Ug unsa’y naa sa bangaw dili lang mao’y lain-laing lingla sa kalimutaw, tanang bulok niini mao usab ang mga landong ug kahayag sa lahi ug di kasarangang pagtan-aw.

Dili lalim sa akong dila kon ako karon pangutan-on unsa’y bulok sa kamatuoran. Kini dili dali litokon. Dili sayon, sama sa pagsuwat og balak og sugilanon.

Busa, ang tingog.

Kini kinahanglang’ dili dali matagna aron ang maminaw dili makatagpilaw. Kay kon buot kang mokanta, kinahanglang’ walay luna ang kalimot. Kinahanglang sibo sa madasigong pagpaminaw. Dili puol, dili bahaw. Dili lang tingog sa kasagarang pananantanan (generalizations): Gaagulong gugma, pakiluoy-hunghong sa kasingkasing. Dili lang mga buwak-bulatik sa dila.

Sa pagdahunog, kinahanglang’ tataw ang tingog. Sama katin-aw sa lanaw aron moaninag sa gihabugon sa panganod nga kanunayng’ gailis ug gabag-o sa ilang dagway. Apan kini kinahanglang’ dili sama kamabaw sa lim-aw aron aduna’y tugkaron ug sawmon. Sama sa mga gilawmon sa tanang naandan nga tradisyon. Kinahanglang’ manganawkanaw ang tingog, dili ihunghong. Sama sa pagsyagit og: Syaaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttttttttttoooooooooong!

Nov 25 2005

MOSYAGIT KO OG SYATONG

Hagit ug Panaad sa Bisdak nga Magbabalak sa Bag-ong Siglo

Paper presented at the Forum on Cebuano Writing at the USC Audio Visual Room during the National Arts Month, February 2000, co-sponsored by the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), the Cebuano Studies Center of the University of San Carlos and the Akademiyang Bisaya

PAMINAW, duna ko’y ihunghong: Sa una, sa lunhaw pa ang akong panglantaw, ganahan kaayo ko moduwa og syatong.

Bisan pa man sa pagsanga-sanga sa mga katuigan, bisan og hagip-ot na kining panumduman, wala gyud nako kalimti kadtong lapad kaayong hawanan nga akong gidagan-daganan panahon sa akong pagkasip-onon.

Ah, kadtong hawanan duol sa tangkongan. Karon gitukoran na’g subdibisyon. Ug wala na’y gaduwa’g syatong didto karon.

Kaniadto, kada hapon, hangtud inig orasyon, kadtong hawanan usa ka kawanangan diin nagtuyok ang nagkamuristing kong kalibutan, diin ang adlaw-buwan-bitoon wala’y samang kahayag sa mata ni Bay Bobong nga kanako maagnihong moingon: “Ta na, dali dayon! Magsyatong na ta!”

Kon ikaw nagdaku sa pagduwa-duwa’g Nintendo, kon ikaw karon nagkayungit sa maagnighong mga tingog sa Internet, tingali wala kay kalibutan unsaon pagduwa’g syatong. Paminaw, mao ra ni imong kinahanglanon: Kahoy nga byatilis, kanang igsusugnod. Duha ka piraso lang niini. Ang usa sama kadak-a sa bunal ug ang lain pa, usa ka dangaw ang gidak-on.

Magkaw’t dayon ka’g lungag— ang gilawmon ug gilapdon igu-igo lang kon ilubong nako kining kalyuhon nakong tudlo o kini bang usa ka dunggan nga hapit nang mabungol sa Babel sa bag-ong panahon. Kinahanglan kusog kang mobunal. Kinahanglang’ taas ka’g gininhawa inig syagit nimo’g syatong. Kay kon dili lawum, kon dili taas imong utong, dili man malugwayan ang imong syagit lagbas sa usa ka hagit.

~~ 0 ~~

Isipon nakong sama sa syatong kining akong pakigbisug sa pinulongan ni Lapu-Lapu. Kay dili ba kining pagpamalak, sama sa syatong, makahangak? Kay dili kaha mabugto ang ugat sa akong li-og tungod sa tinguha nakong mabani-og ug maghadyong— sama sa hanging habagat— kining tabunon kong’ tingog?

Kon buot nakong’ madungog sa tibuok kalibutan ang diwa nakong Bisdak (Bisayang daku), wala ko’y pagduha-duha nga kinahanglang’ mosangko’g moutong sa kawanangan sa akong kahimatngon. Kinahanglan kining dila dili langyaw sa akong pulso ug kaugatan, sumpay sa akong pusod, ug lakip sa lisu’g gamut sa naandan kong kalibutan.

Kinahanglang’ magtiniil ko sa akong pagpadayon, ang yuta’g lapuk sa akong mga tradisyon kinahanglang’ magpabilin sa akong lapalapa aron dili ko masaag, aron molakra ang akong tunob lagbas sa mapangahason nakong pagda-ilos, aron ang mga tingog sa akong tanghaga mahimong lunhaw kanunay, magpabiling lunsay sa akong mata’g suliyaw ug hagawhaw. Sa akong pagpanaw subay sa bag-ong panahon, kinahanglang’ dili ko magdumili paglingi sa tanan nakong nalabyan aron dili nako malimtan nga kausa ako misutoy, misyagit og: Syaaaaaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttttttttttttoooooooooooong!

~~ 0 ~~


Tingali, mora’g misyagit og syatong si Lapu-Lapu samtang nangugat dihang gihagit ang taga-isla sa Mactan, iyang dila nag-aligato, nagkanayon: Dili, dili gyud ta magpalupig!

Karon, igo ra nakong tan-awon ang bantayog ni Lapu-Lapu atbang sa Kapitolyo, ug kini igo na aron akong madunggan ang syagit-hagit nilang anhing Vicente Sotto, Marcel Navarra, Vicente Ranudo ug uban pa. Igo lang nakong sud-ongon ang espada ni Lapu-Lapu karon, ug kini sarang na aron akong masabtan nga hait ug makasamad sab ang dagang nga gihuptan sa mga sakop sa Bathalad, Dagang Foundation, ug Ludabi.

Ug tingali, silang’ kanunay nagluhod sa altar sa lumad nga katitikan dili lang tingali tuhod nila ang samdan kon dili lakip na ang balatian. Kay kon dili pa, nganong alingugngog man ang ilang tingog? Nganong alingisig man ang ilang inagulo samtang nagmirida nga ang Binisayang katitikan padulong na kuno sa pagkaparot.

Wala na, matod nila, wala na gyu’y kaugmaon ang atong kaugalingong pinulongan. Kon ikaw mangutana ngano, ila dayon kang suginlan isip pruyba: ang basahong Bisaya nga kanhi kinaham sa kadaghanan nagkaminos na ang sirkulasyon karon. Dili ba tataw na kining timailhan nga ang mga katiguwangan mao na la’t nahabiling tigbasa sa Bisaya?

Ug kon pangutan-on nato ang mga bag-ong tubo, wala’y duda nga sila motamay: Klariks, uy, tiniguwang kaayo nang Bisaya! Baduy! Bisaya-a, uy! Kon ang lunhawng’ pangisip wala na’y luna ug panahon sa pagduwa og syatong, makagahin pa kaha sila pagbasa’g Binisaya? Lalisonon pa man gani kon ang bag-ong kaliwat modalikyat pa ba sa pagbasa sa langyawng’ pinulongan, Binisaya pa kaha?

Kon ikaw karon gi-uban na ug wala na’y ngipon, tingali modayon ka’g basul sa mga batan-on. Tingali ikaw igo na lang mangulihad ug moingon: Ay, sus, ang mga bag-ong tubo wala gyu’y nada! Lingaw-lingaw, ki-at ra gyu’y nahibal-an! Tingali, ikaw nga hanap na’g panan-aw, ikaw nga nagkampat na ang antipara, wala masayop sa imong punto de vista.

Apan dia’y pangutana: Mabasol ba nimo sa hingpit ang mga batan-on kon sila karon wa’y amor sa gitawag natong’ “literature”— inenglis man o inato? Dili kaha ikaw, isip lumad nga magsusulat, mabasol usab? Wala pud kaha ka makatampo nganong ang Binisayang katitikan wala mopatigbabaw sa nasudnong kahimatngon uyon sa atong gipaninguha, wala molipang sama, pananglitan, sa Tinagalog? Kay unsa ba pud dia’y ang imong ikapasigarbo sa bag-ong tubo? Unsa ma’y imong ipamatuod nga ikaw, sa imong pagtagik sa diwang Binisaya, angayan basahon sa kanunay? Unsaon nimo pagpanalipud ang imong sinulat kon duna’y moyamiid nga kini kinaraan, dili uyon sa bag-ong panahon? Sa iyang gumalaysay nga The Sanity of Art, si George Bernard Shaw nagkanayon: “The man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about all people and about all time.”

Unsa man ang panglantaw sa imong sinulat, nagpabilin ba kining tukma ug ti-unay sa panahon nato ‘ron? Nagkatakdo ba ang imong pagbati’g pagsabot sa mga nagkalandrakas nga tingog sa bag-ong siglo? Ang papel nga tuhup sa imong tinta mahimo bang kapanaminan sa malinglahong dagway sa kamatuoran karon nga ang teknolohiya daw tagolilong nga mo-ilis ug molingla pud sa kinaiya sa kahulogan?

Misantop ba kaha sa imong hunahuna nga ang MTV mahimo usab nga usa ka sangitanan, nga ang abrakadabra sa computer angay sab isipon nga usa ka tanghaga, nga ang kaguliyang sa binag-ong buhilaman usa usab ka hagit sa magsusulat aron ang lunsay nga tingog sa iyang diwa mopatigbabaw gihapon bisan pa man sa tanang hugyaw?

Gani, ang mga kalandrakas niining panahona mahimong igong kapasikaran sa binag-ong pagpaminaw, mahimong tuburan sa mga bag-ong pangutana. Ug karong panahona tingali tunhay ug takus na kitang makigbugno sa atong kaugalingon kon kinsa gyud kita.

Unsa’y atong luna sa kalibutan nga karon inanay nahimong usa ka global village, nagpamatuod sa tagna kaniadto ni Marshall McLuhan? Karon nga ang satellite ug digital technology mipakuyos sa kawanangan sa atong kahimatngon, unsaon nato pagpabiling matinuoron sa atong naandang tingog bisan kon ang atong dunggan dagha’g napaminawan?

Asa man kita padulong gikan dinhi? Ambi, kon ang pagtagik og Binisaya duna pa’y luna alang sa nasudnong panglantaw ug sa kalibutanong pakig-ambit sa hunahuna’g balatian, sayri kuno ko kon unsaon kini paglipang? Unsa man, lapad ba gihapon dinhi sa Sugbu ang hawanan sa katitikan? Kon mopadayon ta’g tagik og Sugbuanon, hangtud asa ang pag-utong sa Bisdak nga tingog aron ang tibuok kalibutan dili lang ang atong hunghong ang madunggan, kon dili lakip na ang pagsyagit nato’g syatong?

~~ 0 ~~

Ang bulok sa langit ug dagat dili lang pughaw, ug dili lang lunhaw ang mga dahon ug balili. Ug unsa’y naa sa bangaw dili lang mao’y lain-laing lingla sa kalimutaw, tanang bulok niini mao usab ang mga landong ug kahayag sa lahi ug di kasarangang pagtan-aw.

Dili lalim sa akong dila kon ako karon pangutan-on unsa’y bulok sa kamatuoran. Kini dili dali litokon. Dili sayon, sama sa pagsuwat og balak og sugilanon.

Busa, ang tingog.

Kini kinahanglang’ dili dali matagna aron ang maminaw dili makatagpilaw. Kay kon buot kang mokanta, kinahanglang’ walay luna ang kalimot. Kinahanglang sibo sa madasigong pagpaminaw. Dili puol, dili bahaw. Dili lang tingog sa kasagarang pananantanan (generalizations): Gaagulong gugma, pakiluoy-hunghong sa kasingkasing. Dili lang mga buwak-bulatik sa dila.

Sa pagdahunog, kinahanglang’ tataw ang tingog. Sama katin-aw sa lanaw aron moaninag sa gihabugon sa panganod nga kanunayng’ gailis ug gabag-o sa ilang dagway. Apan kini kinahanglang’ dili sama kamabaw sa lim-aw aron aduna’y tugkaron ug sawmon. Sama sa mga gilawmon sa tanang naandan nga tradisyon. Kinahanglang’ manganawkanaw ang tingog, dili ihunghong. Sama sa pagsyagit og: Syaaaaaaaaaaaattttttttttttttttttoooooooooong!

Nov 24 2005

i got discs in my head

championships on december tres!! can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait. oh, man.

Nov 24 2005

Kon Makapasmo Ang Inspirasyon


Padulong sa imong mga pulong, ang musanga mosapnay sa imong pagtukaw dili arteog linaktan. Hinoon magdagan. Mora’g mangtasnga kanimo mokilaw.Gatangag og tanghaga, siya ang mananag-annga nakaaninaw og anino sa imongkinahiladman. Iyang simod nabun-ogug napangos sa pagkasukamod sa matag karonug unya sa inyong panagtagbo dihasa puting wanang sa kahinamnga mopilu-pilo sa imong damanug mopapas sa imong kahaw-ang.Dili lang ang mga bugaw sa Kamagayanang mangamay. Dili lang ang napaakanog irong buang ang maglaway.Mamula imong mata, ug mangidhat ang butanga nakabasa sa imong dangatan: malukot kailawom sa trak sa basura nga nag-awas-awassa mga suwat nga wala basli,mga awit nga nangahibat ang huni, ugmga balak nga wala masabti.

Ug ang usa ka ligid ma-flat

dihang imong ulo mapisatug motu-asik ang imong pagkadugtaduyog sa pagkataktak sa mga takna.Apan wa’y ma-usik kon ang imong musadili arte, dili magduha-duha sa pagpunit

sa nagpasad nga chopsuey sa imong

utok-bukog-dugo-ugat-unod-panit aron lamyonog hurot bisan kon ang iyang danguyngoy

labing talinis kon itandi sa taghoy.

Nov 24 2005

TRADISYON SA TAGAY, TAGAY SA TRADISYON

Or, The Spirit of the Glass and its Impact on
the Evolution of the Cebuano Poetic Tradition

(A paper presented at the National Conference for Young Writers and the Literary Traditions at Bohol Tropics, Tagbilaran City, 27-30 January 2000, sponsored by the National Commission for the Culture and the Arts (NCCA). Later printed in the anthology Write-Hop: New Writers Speak published by the NCCA.)

The Irish Connection

Something about the literature of Ireland makes me wish to be reincarnated as an Irish in my next lifetime. There’s this sense of co-existing with the written Irish lives which, I must clarify, is not as trenchant as when I get vicarious with the other literatures which I can savor only at a certain remove. The human condition is universal, I know, but the realm of reality rendered to me by Irish authors is something I can view from my window.

Blame it on the Irish coffee I was sipping, I suppose. There’s a certain epiphany in the experience of reading James Joyce, Christy Brown or the brothers McCourt that gives me an eerie feeling of living within the book’s covers, where the temperament of the characters and the characteristics of the milieu sort of cue in an extension of my own existence.I can swear that Jim Sheridan’s critically-acclaimed film, My Left Foot— one of my all-time favorites— featured characters from my own neighborhood. And I need not be afflicted with cerebral palsy to know that. I haven’t seen Angela’s Ashes yet, but I have this sneaking suspicion that I’ll see my mother onscreen. Beats me, sometimes I fancy I was named after Michael Collins.

This uncanny affinity with the Irish might compel me one of these days to go on a séance, lapse into a trance or trick myself into regression, and find out what sort of Irish I was in my previous life. Who knows I could be one of those pot-bellied rascals in a tavern. Or, God forbid, a patchy-furred rat scurrying through the sewers of Dublin after getting a kick from one of those drunkards.There’s also this Irish legend I treasure, wherefrom I draw inspiration in my personal exploration as a poet attempting to define my creative identity.

Once upon a time, the poets of Ireland gathered to see if they could recall together the old epic of the Tain. Of the poem’s entirety, it was known that not one of them remembered. Each of them knew only fragments of it, and so they deemed it their duty to reclaim the epic’s missing parts. In a ritual of remembrance, one of the young poets visited the tomb of the old hero Fergus and invoked his spirit. Finally, Fergus replied to the young poet’s chant, reciting the epic for three days until the young poet remembered it by heart. When the young lad later joined the gathering of poets, he succeeded at last in providing the missing lines, and the epic was finally completed.

In that gathering, I would like to believe, the waiting game of piecing together the epic’s missing parts must have been unbearable without them killing time offering each other a toast of wine until the epic of the Tain sprang forth like a genie out of the bottle.I would like to believe that it was the spirit of fellowship, spurred by the shared grace of the “tagay” that propelled myth and memory to reel on.

The Spirit of Tradition

The young poet’s role in the Irish lore offers a valuable lesson to an apprentice in Cebuano literature like me.For one striving to ground my creative identity in a politically marginalized language, the effort is already fraught with a two-pronged challenge.

My generation of Cebuano poets is not only tasked with every writer’s pursuit in finding an authentic voice; there is also the struggle to stand up on an ancestral ground already swamped with the encroachment of influences from the English and Tagalog languages as well as the inroads of hypertext.

For one still groping my way in a literature that is geographically/culturally off-center, the epic task of reclaiming a creative clearing is a futile effort without a stable foothold on the terra firma of tradition where language is rooted.

My generation can’t do the journey alone. Without the light from the torch of tradition, we can’t go on. Without the voices of ancestry that embodies the spirit of myth and memory, we can never hear the sound of our own.Truly, my creative identity entails a necessity to forge links with the sensibilities of the past, to nourish myself in the spirit of fellowship with the carriers of tradition. Yes, like what the young poet in the Irish legend did in the company of older poets.

Spirit of the Glass

I was 23-years old when I wrote and published my first Cebuano poem (“Balibaran Ko Ikaw Sa Balak”), and that sufficed enough as my password of sorts to a national writers’ congress. Earlier, that poem became a finalist in a poetry writing contest co-sponsored by Cebu’s top newspaper Sun.Star Daily and the Doña Modesta Gaisano Foundation. I was the youngest finalist, and those bottles of beer crowding the tables at the writers’ congress did not leave me inebriated as much as the ecstasy of knowing that the chairperson of the board of judges, Dr. Erlinda K. Alburo, rated my first Cebuano poem with the same grade as the piece of the eventual winner Melito Baclay whose Cebuano works Dr. Resil Mojares deems “world-class.”

Come to think of it, the poem’s last two lines— “… Pagkalapad sa gilapdon/ Sa atong pagpadulong.”— proved to be prophetic in my creative venture. By then, I had also just started to write in earnest English poems (for which I received a fellowship grant to the 1994 National Summer Writers Workshop in Dumagute.) And if not for the impetus of inspiration out of my first Cebuano poem, my excursion into English poetry could have sidetracked my creative foray away from my ancestral terrain.

Indeed, that balak paved the way for Dr. Alburo to invite me as participant/observer to the 1994 National Writers Congress held at the Ecotech Center in Lahug, Cebu City. I would say that the banner trumpeting the theme of the congress— “Toward a National Literature”— marked the crossroads in my aesthetic journey as a Cebuano poet.

At hindsight, I would say that it was in that gathering where I sort of stumbled into the idea of “a writer’s sensibility and responsibility.” No, I did not get that from the papers presented by the country’s literary celebrities. I was too starstruck to care about their speeches; all I really wanted was to gawk at and see that even literary gods can look squirmy at the podium.

If the congress compelled me with an awareness of regional writing as a vital component of national literature, it was because I couldn’t say “no” when two of the Cebuano poets I met earlier at the awarding ceremony of the Cebuano poetry writing contest— Ernesto Lariosa and Pantaleon Auman— asked me to join them in a post-congress powwow with a rowdy bunch of Bisdaks (Bisayang daku or hugely Visayan) over tuba (fermented coco wine) and Tanduay.

Tasked to be the “tigtagay,” I passed the glass around in awe and amusement as the members of BATHALAD (Bathalan-ong Halad sa Dagang, or Divine Gift of the Quill)— regarded as the largest group of Cebuano writers in the country— reeled me over in a binge of Cebuano songs, impromptu poetic jousts, and tall tales, sousing me up with its undercurrents of folk wisdom and wisecracks.

It was there that I heard Temistokles Adlawan, a recent recipient of the Gawad Balagtas for Cebuano writing given by UMPIL (Unyon ng mga Manunulat sa Pilipinas) who waxed whimsical about his travails as a tricycle driver. With his jaunty spontaneity, with his rambling and rollicking talk, there was no mistaking how the rigors of the road became detours en route to the fury of his poetry. And I owed it to him that I weaned myself from the notion that polishing the creative craft comes only with white-collared high-mindedness. Breezy does it, as far as Tem is concerned about poetics. Only this way would the words bubble over with the piquant spirit of Kondansoy— a native ditty half-remembered from my childhood— dripping from Tem’s tongue: Kondansoy, inom tuba laloy/ Dili ako inom tuba pait aslum

And why should I care about Li Po romancing the moon at the Yellow River when there’s Pantaleon Auman? With a glass of Tanduay in his hand, Auman was no less ardent: “Bulan, pagkatahum mo/ Sama ka sa maanyag nga bulak nga akong gimahal..” What damsel in the hills of Agsungot wouldn’t swoon with that serenade?

Nevermore would young writers in Cebuano bother about the ravenous fascination on Edgar Allan Poe if they only heard Ernesto Lariosa. A big mole nestling on his upper lip, he hushed us down with the roar of his voice and his gestures so robust. Do you know how Sitio Panadtaran in his hometown in San Fernando got its name? If not, earnestly would Ernie narrate the legend of Juan Diyong, a farmer who spurred the folks into a relentless rampage against invaders in the olden times. With such energy, too, did he keep us wide awake, knocking the bottles off our table at Bayanihan beerhouse while stressing the prerequisite of the 4 S in writing poetry (Sound, Story, and Social Sense). And because the bored waitresses wouldn’t care a whit about the gist of his prize winning essay on Cebuano poetry, his baritone would be tender enough with “Patayng’ Buhi” dedicated to them.

It’s been a long while since I served as “tigtagay” in that Bisdak gathering, but the spirit of the glass has lived on from the camaraderie of BATHALAD writers to my generation’s group of Cebuano writers called Tarantula (Januar Yap, Corazon Almerino, Adonis Durado, John Biton, Jeremiah Bondoc, Josua Cabrera, Ronald Villavelez, Greg Fernandez, Delora Sales, Noel Rama, Dindin Villarino, Ulysses Aparece, and yours truly)The way you are now is the way we were, or so Ernie told me as he reckoned the poetry group in late 60s called ALVICALARIVI (after the first two letters in the family name of its members: Melquiadito Allego, Urias Almagro, Romeo Virao, Sozimo Cabunal, Ernesto Lariosa, Edfer Rigodon and Antonio Villavito). It is with a sense of déjà vu, after all, that Ernie and company remember how it was when the pre-war Cebuano literary stalwarts like Marcel Navarra, Laurean Unabia and Diosdado Alesna came to ALVICALARIVI’s drinking table, impressing upon them the sobering task of perpetuating the tradition of Cebuano writing.

Replete with discussions (literary and otherwise) and poetry reading, the “tagay” has spawned another round of convocations. At the annual writers’ get-together at the Faigao Memorial Writers Workshop at the Retreat House of the University of San Carlos or inside the erstwhile literary café called Book-o-Bar, or wherever it is that we gather with the brew and verses of our affinities, be it in the honkytonk benches at Planet K (an epithet for Kamagayan, Cebu’s red-light district) or at the demolished Broadway along Osmeña Blvd., the ritual of the “tagay” can’t die. As it never did during the 70s and 80s when ALVICALARIVI evolved and became Bathalad, its members reeling in some vernacular writers from LUDABI (Lubas sa Dagang Bisaya) inside the old State Fair Restaurant or by the watch-repair booth of Bisaya novelist Fidel Magusara and poet Ramon Arong’s candy and cigarette stall at the sidewalk along Colon, the country’s oldest street.

I would say the drunken reveries of Ernie et al in the company of our new batch of writers in Cebuano has not been for naught. And I know they would drink to this assertion. For instance, in The Poem and the World, a poetry anthology published by the Washington Press of the University of Seattle, more than half of the featured Cebuano poems came from young poets. And I would say that my generation of Cebuano poets have since earned their dues and deserved their seats around the drinking table after winning in the local poetry tilts.

Sorry if I sound a bit tipsy. But I know the BATHALAD writers and the ancestral voices that passed through them are pleased as punch, seeing we don’t cower at the table of tradition as they pass on the torch, so to speak, to us. Yes, along with the glass.

Nov 24 2005

TRADISYON SA TAGAY, TAGAY SA TRADISYON

Or, The Spirit of the Glass and its Impact on
the Evolution of the Cebuano Poetic Tradition

(A paper presented at the National Conference for Young Writers and the Literary Traditions at Bohol Tropics, Tagbilaran City, 27-30 January 2000, sponsored by the National Commission for the Culture and the Arts (NCCA). Later printed in the anthology Write-Hop: New Writers Speak published by the NCCA.)

The Irish Connection

Something about the literature of Ireland makes me wish to be reincarnated as an Irish in my next lifetime. There’s this sense of co-existing with the written Irish lives which, I must clarify, is not as trenchant as when I get vicarious with the other literatures which I can savor only at a certain remove. The human condition is universal, I know, but the realm of reality rendered to me by Irish authors is something I can view from my window.

Blame it on the Irish coffee I was sipping, I suppose. There’s a certain epiphany in the experience of reading James Joyce, Christy Brown or the brothers McCourt that gives me an eerie feeling of living within the book’s covers, where the temperament of the characters and the characteristics of the milieu sort of cue in an extension of my own existence.I can swear that Jim Sheridan’s critically-acclaimed film, My Left Foot— one of my all-time favorites— featured characters from my own neighborhood. And I need not be afflicted with cerebral palsy to know that. I haven’t seen Angela’s Ashes yet, but I have this sneaking suspicion that I’ll see my mother onscreen. Beats me, sometimes I fancy I was named after Michael Collins.

This uncanny affinity with the Irish might compel me one of these days to go on a séance, lapse into a trance or trick myself into regression, and find out what sort of Irish I was in my previous life. Who knows I could be one of those pot-bellied rascals in a tavern. Or, God forbid, a patchy-furred rat scurrying through the sewers of Dublin after getting a kick from one of those drunkards.There’s also this Irish legend I treasure, wherefrom I draw inspiration in my personal exploration as a poet attempting to define my creative identity.

Once upon a time, the poets of Ireland gathered to see if they could recall together the old epic of the Tain. Of the poem’s entirety, it was known that not one of them remembered. Each of them knew only fragments of it, and so they deemed it their duty to reclaim the epic’s missing parts. In a ritual of remembrance, one of the young poets visited the tomb of the old hero Fergus and invoked his spirit. Finally, Fergus replied to the young poet’s chant, reciting the epic for three days until the young poet remembered it by heart. When the young lad later joined the gathering of poets, he succeeded at last in providing the missing lines, and the epic was finally completed.

In that gathering, I would like to believe, the waiting game of piecing together the epic’s missing parts must have been unbearable without them killing time offering each other a toast of wine until the epic of the Tain sprang forth like a genie out of the bottle.I would like to believe that it was the spirit of fellowship, spurred by the shared grace of the “tagay” that propelled myth and memory to reel on.

The Spirit of Tradition

The young poet’s role in the Irish lore offers a valuable lesson to an apprentice in Cebuano literature like me.For one striving to ground my creative identity in a politically marginalized language, the effort is already fraught with a two-pronged challenge.

My generation of Cebuano poets is not only tasked with every writer’s pursuit in finding an authentic voice; there is also the struggle to stand up on an ancestral ground already swamped with the encroachment of influences from the English and Tagalog languages as well as the inroads of hypertext.

For one still groping my way in a literature that is geographically/culturally off-center, the epic task of reclaiming a creative clearing is a futile effort without a stable foothold on the terra firma of tradition where language is rooted.

My generation can’t do the journey alone. Without the light from the torch of tradition, we can’t go on. Without the voices of ancestry that embodies the spirit of myth and memory, we can never hear the sound of our own.Truly, my creative identity entails a necessity to forge links with the sensibilities of the past, to nourish myself in the spirit of fellowship with the carriers of tradition. Yes, like what the young poet in the Irish legend did in the company of older poets.

Spirit of the Glass

I was 23-years old when I wrote and published my first Cebuano poem (“Balibaran Ko Ikaw Sa Balak”), and that sufficed enough as my password of sorts to a national writers’ congress. Earlier, that poem became a finalist in a poetry writing contest co-sponsored by Cebu’s top newspaper Sun.Star Daily and the Doña Modesta Gaisano Foundation. I was the youngest finalist, and those bottles of beer crowding the tables at the writers’ congress did not leave me inebriated as much as the ecstasy of knowing that the chairperson of the board of judges, Dr. Erlinda K. Alburo, rated my first Cebuano poem with the same grade as the piece of the eventual winner Melito Baclay whose Cebuano works Dr. Resil Mojares deems “world-class.”

Come to think of it, the poem’s last two lines— “… Pagkalapad sa gilapdon/ Sa atong pagpadulong.”— proved to be prophetic in my creative venture. By then, I had also just started to write in earnest English poems (for which I received a fellowship grant to the 1994 National Summer Writers Workshop in Dumagute.) And if not for the impetus of inspiration out of my first Cebuano poem, my excursion into English poetry could have sidetracked my creative foray away from my ancestral terrain.

Indeed, that balak paved the way for Dr. Alburo to invite me as participant/observer to the 1994 National Writers Congress held at the Ecotech Center in Lahug, Cebu City. I would say that the banner trumpeting the theme of the congress— “Toward a National Literature”— marked the crossroads in my aesthetic journey as a Cebuano poet.

At hindsight, I would say that it was in that gathering where I sort of stumbled into the idea of “a writer’s sensibility and responsibility.” No, I did not get that from the papers presented by the country’s literary celebrities. I was too starstruck to care about their speeches; all I really wanted was to gawk at and see that even literary gods can look squirmy at the podium.

If the congress compelled me with an awareness of regional writing as a vital component of national literature, it was because I couldn’t say “no” when two of the Cebuano poets I met earlier at the awarding ceremony of the Cebuano poetry writing contest— Ernesto Lariosa and Pantaleon Auman— asked me to join them in a post-congress powwow with a rowdy bunch of Bisdaks (Bisayang daku or hugely Visayan) over tuba (fermented coco wine) and Tanduay.

Tasked to be the “tigtagay,” I passed the glass around in awe and amusement as the members of BATHALAD (Bathalan-ong Halad sa Dagang, or Divine Gift of the Quill)— regarded as the largest group of Cebuano writers in the country— reeled me over in a binge of Cebuano songs, impromptu poetic jousts, and tall tales, sousing me up with its undercurrents of folk wisdom and wisecracks.

It was there that I heard Temistokles Adlawan, a recent recipient of the Gawad Balagtas for Cebuano writing given by UMPIL (Unyon ng mga Manunulat sa Pilipinas) who waxed whimsical about his travails as a tricycle driver. With his jaunty spontaneity, with his rambling and rollicking talk, there was no mistaking how the rigors of the road became detours en route to the fury of his poetry. And I owed it to him that I weaned myself from the notion that polishing the creative craft comes only with white-collared high-mindedness. Breezy does it, as far as Tem is concerned about poetics. Only this way would the words bubble over with the piquant spirit of Kondansoy— a native ditty half-remembered from my childhood— dripping from Tem’s tongue: Kondansoy, inom tuba laloy/ Dili ako inom tuba pait aslum

And why should I care about Li Po romancing the moon at the Yellow River when there’s Pantaleon Auman? With a glass of Tanduay in his hand, Auman was no less ardent: “Bulan, pagkatahum mo/ Sama ka sa maanyag nga bulak nga akong gimahal..” What damsel in the hills of Agsungot wouldn’t swoon with that serenade?

Nevermore would young writers in Cebuano bother about the ravenous fascination on Edgar Allan Poe if they only heard Ernesto Lariosa. A big mole nestling on his upper lip, he hushed us down with the roar of his voice and his gestures so robust. Do you know how Sitio Panadtaran in his hometown in San Fernando got its name? If not, earnestly would Ernie narrate the legend of Juan Diyong, a farmer who spurred the folks into a relentless rampage against invaders in the olden times. With such energy, too, did he keep us wide awake, knocking the bottles off our table at Bayanihan beerhouse while stressing the prerequisite of the 4 S in writing poetry (Sound, Story, and Social Sense). And because the bored waitresses wouldn’t care a whit about the gist of his prize winning essay on Cebuano poetry, his baritone would be tender enough with “Patayng’ Buhi” dedicated to them.

It’s been a long while since I served as “tigtagay” in that Bisdak gathering, but the spirit of the glass has lived on from the camaraderie of BATHALAD writers to my generation’s group of Cebuano writers called Tarantula (Januar Yap, Corazon Almerino, Adonis Durado, John Biton, Jeremiah Bondoc, Josua Cabrera, Ronald Villavelez, Greg Fernandez, Delora Sales, Noel Rama, Dindin Villarino, Ulysses Aparece, and yours truly)The way you are now is the way we were, or so Ernie told me as he reckoned the poetry group in late 60s called ALVICALARIVI (after the first two letters in the family name of its members: Melquiadito Allego, Urias Almagro, Romeo Virao, Sozimo Cabunal, Ernesto Lariosa, Edfer Rigodon and Antonio Villavito). It is with a sense of déjà vu, after all, that Ernie and company remember how it was when the pre-war Cebuano literary stalwarts like Marcel Navarra, Laurean Unabia and Diosdado Alesna came to ALVICALARIVI’s drinking table, impressing upon them the sobering task of perpetuating the tradition of Cebuano writing.

Replete with discussions (literary and otherwise) and poetry reading, the “tagay” has spawned another round of convocations. At the annual writers’ get-together at the Faigao Memorial Writers Workshop at the Retreat House of the University of San Carlos or inside the erstwhile literary café called Book-o-Bar, or wherever it is that we gather with the brew and verses of our affinities, be it in the honkytonk benches at Planet K (an epithet for Kamagayan, Cebu’s red-light district) or at the demolished Broadway along Osmeña Blvd., the ritual of the “tagay” can’t die. As it never did during the 70s and 80s when ALVICALARIVI evolved and became Bathalad, its members reeling in some vernacular writers from LUDABI (Lubas sa Dagang Bisaya) inside the old State Fair Restaurant or by the watch-repair booth of Bisaya novelist Fidel Magusara and poet Ramon Arong’s candy and cigarette stall at the sidewalk along Colon, the country’s oldest street.

I would say the drunken reveries of Ernie et al in the company of our new batch of writers in Cebuano has not been for naught. And I know they would drink to this assertion. For instance, in The Poem and the World, a poetry anthology published by the Washington Press of the University of Seattle, more than half of the featured Cebuano poems came from young poets. And I would say that my generation of Cebuano poets have since earned their dues and deserved their seats around the drinking table after winning in the local poetry tilts.

Sorry if I sound a bit tipsy. But I know the BATHALAD writers and the ancestral voices that passed through them are pleased as punch, seeing we don’t cower at the table of tradition as they pass on the torch, so to speak, to us. Yes, along with the glass.

Nov 21 2005

Some Thoughts On Photography….

Having been behind the digital lens for a couple of months now, I have learned a couple of things. Some of which I will now impart to you, my friends.

1. It is always the photographer, not the camera.

So many times have I been impressed by photographs taken by point and shoot cameras, also known as P&S. Theories and priniciples never change, whether you use the top of the line DSLR (Digital Single Lens Reflex) or an old P&S. What really matters is how you apply these principles and how well you work with your camera.

2. Great food, what pan did you use?

I’m stealing this line from my buddy, Dennis.
When we eat, do we ask our host «Great food, what pan did you use?» or do we enjoy the taste of the food?

This is the same with looking at pictures. Whenever non-photographers look at pictures, you never hear them ask what equipment was used or what setting the camera was at the time. They simply enjoy the picture. Photographers however are different, almost obsessed to knowing the settings, the lens and camera that was used to take a good picture, we tend to lose the essence of enjoying the work of others. This is also the reason why some photographs on the web come with exif data or camera settings.

Why do photographers do this? It is in the hope to use the same camera setting in case we shoot the same subject. Ironically, however, no matter how much photographers try to imitate another photographer’s work, there will ALWAYS be a difference. Which is why I have chosen to no longer to include exif data in any of my pictures.

3. Bring Everything, Shoot Anything.

Something I learned from another photographer, Ted Madamba. When you have everything you can shoot anything. Though recently I revised this thinking, because after all, you wouldn’t want to be carrying 2 or so Kilos would you?

Through practice you learn the equipment you need for certain shots. You find out that you don’t need your macro lens for fashion or events shoots or your zoom lens for macro shot and landscape shots. Leaving a lens or two will eventually help out your carrying load and your bag as well.

Nov 18 2005

i am a certified student again! aside from my usua…

i am a certified student again! aside from my usual lab experiment for my thesis, i enrolled in two subjects. Which means that i have to study and pass problem sets and assignments on the due date. whew!!!! i still don’t know how challenging this semester would be, but i am hoping that i have the time and strength to pull this off.

Nov 17 2005

grabe.. maskin nga ga-promise ko nga dli ko magsul…

grabe.. maskin nga ga-promise ko nga dli ko magsulat diri mintas bad pa akong sitwasyon.. pero i cant help it.. hehe.. feeling man pud nako daghan pa bad nga mahitabu.. 🙁 manlibak ko ha? grabe ka BUGO si mp! bugo jud kaayo as in.. last week pa nako gisubmit ang program para sko thesis sa iya, para ma-check na unta niya.. today bya unta akong defense.. pero next week na lang. kabalo mo ngano? kay BUGO man sha! nagtagad ko sa iyang feedback ato na program, para unta kung naay sayup pwede pa ma-remedyohan.. pero jus ko! gabinugo man! tingala ko wala man nagreply.. so ako napud giemail.. pag-ana.. wala pa diay niya na-run, kay applet man to.. dli niay sha kabalo unsaon pag run ug applet? or wala lang jud sha kabalo kung na applet diay to? maskin na ang pag-declare sa class: «public class CIMD extends Applet» ?? duh?? gabinugo jud! sus! makalagut. unya ako napud ang madamay ani. so ako sha gikulit ug ghatagan ug instructions kung unsaon pag-run. nagreply sha gahapun nga napa-run na niya (AT LAST no? bugo jud sha ay) dayun magsturya daw sila sa ako advisor today. grr! naglagut jud ko! wala man lang ko ghatagan ug feedback!! unya kung negative, ako napud ang karnehon sko advisor! bwisit jud sa tanang bwisit. unya tibuok adlaw ko gatagad, mura na kog ma-heart attack, tagad ug email, wala pa japun.. aguy!!! galagut na jud kaayo ko!!! atay man tong bugok oi.ay suri, nakalimut kog explain.. katung akong gpang-yawyaw, java eklat..unya si mp kay java programmer nga ga work sa java center sa ateneo ug gatudlo ug javaEE nga subject sa ateneo (titser pud nako sha dd2.. wala koi natun-an! puro ra jargon ug big words.. wala man diay unud). haskang bugu-a niya no? atay uy. makasaway na hnuon ko sa mga tagalog/elite ani. racist man ko. haha. dli man gud, sa ateneo, shempre mostly tagalog/elite akong mga ma-encounter. payts ra bya ang uban.. pero ang makalagut jud, ang mga feeling bitaw.. mga hambugiro.. murag si mp.. pa-as if daghan nahibaw-an.. kung naa koi choice, ako ra man i-avoid mga ing-ana na tawo.. pero sha pa jud ang gagunit sko thesis.. atay.. huhu… kasuka-on na kaayo ko ani nga thesis! galagut na jud ko sa sistema sa ateneo! nganong makalusut man nang mga ing-ana ka incompetent ug walay kwenta nga tawo! grrr…. haay.. hapit na bya ko mugraduate.. 6 units na lang ang alanganin (3 units ang thesis).. di ko ganahan nga puro negative jud.. this is the end na gud.. unsa man na sha oi.. gapower trip? gi-atay.. bugo man gud oi.. bugo jud.. as in.. dli lang kulang sa brains, kulang pud sa character…

wow, lingaw lagi mag-rant in bisaya hihihhi

Nov 16 2005

My day

Today would have been the last day of my project assignment but I skipped work altogether because of an interview for another assignment. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this assignment will be handed to me but if not then off to another temp work, I guess.

………………..

And because it rained the whole day, we just holed up in the house and catch up with houseworks and laundry. To tell the truth, I never lifted a finger and instead, curled up in bed hoping to grab some moments of sleep but the boys stayed with me in the bed playing pillow fight and so I never got the chance to close my eyes for a second. They cuddled with me and we had lots of fun. There’s this nagging feeling that I should be a SAHM for a few days again before commiting to another assignment but heck, I would if only there’s that choice.

Anyways, with dinner but only few hours away, Parin and I brainstormed on what to cook and I end up with my «ampalaya dish» and Parin with his «beef soup». Few minutes later, while Gabriel was taking his delayed afternoon nap and Nathaniel busy with the computer (he’s on PBS kids website), we had an early dinner and burp (ops, escush me…) here I am keyboarding the night away.

Nov 12 2005

Cambridge Pics…


Here are some of the pics taken @ cambridge university press today.The house above is where we’re staying. My office is situated at the back of this house.

More pix here

Nov 12 2005

Fruit Salad

Gotta have a break from creamy and cheesy stuffs! posted fruitsalad under desserts and I just launched a new category called «fruits around the world».

Nov 12 2005

Touchdown…

arrived @ heathrow airport last night(NOV 11,2005)around 8:30 pm. another 2 hrs drive to cambridge on a cold & cloudy dark night.it felt so surreal. i mean, i never thought that i’d go back to this place again. there’s something different about this trip though. i still can’t quite figure it out. what i know is, i feel good, more like i’m really ready and prepared for this trip. unlike around 3 years ago. i don’t know. maybe its just the jetlag setting in. :0)

pictures of cambridge to follow. stay around folks(as if i’ve folks readin this blog)

Nov 11 2005

MTG!! omg!

Ok. So like I asked my mother to buy me a box [RAVNICA] and was so glad that we were back on track sa MTG Magic teh Gathering.. wohohooo.. dami na offers samin sa Realms!! wowoowow!!Well I wanna post my haves/wants list here just in case ma delete sa forums. Here it is:[color=#009900]GREEN1 x Birds of Paradise [ foil ] [ Ravnica ]1 x Golgari Grave Troll1 x Life from the Loam1 x Doubling Season2 x Chord of Calling2 x Aluren1 x Elvish Champion1 x Tooth and Nail2 x Goliath Spider2 x Root-kin Ally2 x Recollect3 x Ivy Dancer1 x Trophy Hunter1 x Moldervine Cloak1 x Dowsing Shaman2 x Overwhelm1 x Perilous Forays2 x Nullmage Shepherd1 x Time of Need2 x Iname Life Aspect1 x Myojin of Life’s Web1 x Satchi, Daughter of Sheshiro4 x Wall of Blossoms[/color][color=#000000]WHITE1 x Hunted Lamasu1 x Ivory Mask1 x Worship1 x Serra Angel [4th ed]1 x Hold teh Line1 x Masako, the Humorless1 x Savannah Lions2 x Land Tax1 x Light of Sanction1 x Hour of Reckoning1 x Loxodon Gatekeeper2 x Festival of the Guildpact2 x Sandsower2 x Bathe in Light1 x Chant of Vitu-Gazi1 x Odesworn Giant1 x Divebomber Griffin1 x Auratouched Mage1 x Vassal’s Duty[/color][color=#3333FF]BLUE1 x Eye of the Storm1 x Followed Footsteps1 x Cerulean Sphinx2 x Copy Enchantment [foil x 1]1 x Archivist1 x Clone1 x Threads of Disloyalty2 x Wizened Snitches2 x Flow of Ideas2 x Belltower Sphinx1 x Mark of Eviction (pinoy big brother)1 x Ethereal Usher2 x Eerie Procession1 x Mnemonic Nexus1 x Jushi Apprentice1 x Reminisce1 x Mystical Tutor1 x Phantom Warrior[/color][color=#000000]Black1 x Dark Confidant1 x Persecute1 x Death Pits of Rath1 x Nightmare1 x Royal Assassin [ 4th Ed]1 x Marrow Gnawer1 x Empty teh Catacombs1 x Sins of teh Past1 x Helldozer2 x Golgari Thug2 x Nightmare Void4 x Netherborn Phalanx1 x Carrion Howler1 x Dimir Machinations1 x Vindictive Mob1 x Undercity Shade1 x Keening Banshee1 x Ribbons of Night2 x Iname, Death Aspect2 x Honden of Nights Reach4 x Swallowing Plague1 x Nezumi Bonereader1 x Night Dealings[/color][color=#FF0000]RED1 x Excrutiator1 x Flame Fusillade1 x Form of the Dragon1 x Bloodmoon 1 x Flamebreak4 x Arcslogger4 x Pulse of the Forge2 x Indetured Oaf2 x Reroute2 x Stoneshaker Shaman2 x Blockbuster2 x Greater Forgling2 x Instill Furor1 x Flash Conscription1 x Frenzied Goblin1 x Wojek Embermage1 x Sudden Impact1 x Viashino Sandstalker2 x Brothers Yamazaki1 x Goblin Recruiter1 x Flame Wave3 x Blaze4 x Jackal Pup4 x Magma Jet4 x Slith Firewalker4 x Shrapnel Blast[/color][color=#000000]ARTIFACTS1 x Bottled Cloister1 x Cloudstone Curio1 x Plague Boiler1 x Sunfoger1 x Pariah Shield1 x Draco1 x Tatsumasa Dragon Fang4 x Ensnaring Bridge2 x Chrome Mox2 x Konda’s Banner1 x Journeyer’s Kite2 x Loxodon Warhammer2 x Moonring Mirror2 x Grifter’s Blade2 x Cyclopean Snare2 x Junktroller1 x Spectral Torchlight2 x Glass Golem2 x Leashling2 x Bottle Gnomes2 x Reito Lantern1 x Tenza, Godo’s Maul1 x General’s Kabuto4 x Isochron Scepter[/color][color=#CC33CC]MULTICOLOR1 x Razia, Boros Archangel1 x Razia’s Purification1 x Savra Queen of the Golgari1 x Autochthon Wurm1 x Vulturous Zombie2 x Psychic Drain2 x Pollen Brightwings1 x Drooling Groodron1 x Flame-kin Zealot1 x Congregation at Dawn1 x Selensya Sagittars1 x Golgari Germination3 x Watchwolf3 x Darkheart of the Wood1 x Privileged Position[/color]LANDS[color=#993300]1 x Strip Mine1 x Hall of the Bandit Lord2 x Svogthos the Restless Tomb2 x Cloudcrest Lake2 x Lantern Lit Graveyard1 x Pinecrest Ridge1 x Waterveil Tavern1 x Urza’s Mine[/color]*CARDS above are for [b]trade[/b] only ——————————Looking for these:3 x Sacred Foundry3 x Battlefield Forge3 x Char3 x Umezawa’s Jitte

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Nov 11 2005

This Is Not My Day.

I have a fund raising concert to host and shoot tomorrow, a photo exhibit to prepare for, a business to take care of and a garage sale to plan. And here I am, sick.Last night I felt my throat swell up as we were having dinner meeting at Kahayag Cafe to finalize everything for the fund raising concert. It didn’t take long for my nose to start dripping and my voice to start changing. Damn it, I said to myself. Of all the darn days to get sick, my body picked one of the busiest days.

Fund Raising Concert

A month ago four members of iStorya.net were struck down by an unknown assailant armed with a car. The driver never looked back and left the victims for dead. Fortunately, good samaritans brought them to the hospital at 2am.Three were released a day after with minor scratches and bruises, while Rowena Villamor was critical. She had to under go two major head operations and spending two weeks in the Intensive Care Unit.As soon as members of Cebu’s biggest online community heard about the incident, everyone express their willingness to help but didn’t know how and where to course it. The administrators and moderator’s thought that the best way was through having a benefit concert.On Nov. 12, 2005, 7pm at Kahayag Cafe iStorya.net will hold a fund raising concert for the benefit of these victims. The following artists will perform:Hotpress and the Glue SpreadersAndy CalopeWaterproofAng Bagong TribuHash Browns2nA & eGGManny AmadorSawSawMissing FilemonTickets are pegged at 50 pesos and will be available at the gate.

Photo Exhibit

My friends and I are holding a photo exhibit at Chowabunga at Cebu’s IT Park, Lahug on Nov. 19, 2005. All of us are amateur photographers who have taken time to notice the beauty of Cebu’s nature, people and culture.

To view some of my works please visit my flicker photoblog.

Nov 10 2005

waaah! pinaka-una nga post! testing lang ni uy.. h…

waaah! pinaka-una nga post! testing lang ni uy.. hehe :p excited na kaayo ko mag-migrate diri. magbinisaya na ko sa kong blog! yey! sumu man gud mag ininglis ug tagalog.. murag mas tinuod ang binisaya.. alangan no, bisaya gud kong dako! nyahaha!

lingaw.. 😀

Nov 09 2005

Biggest fan…

«My friends know so much about you because I talk about you… a lot!» «Whenever I’m caught in some situation, I’d always try to imagine how you’d react or what you’d do if you were in the same situation. That helps.» «Hey, that doesn’t look good on you!» «Let me fix that…» «What on earth were you thinking? What kind of singing was that?!» — These are but some of the millions of lines I

Nov 09 2005

TANG: Kinsay Mag Dahum

Namalengke me sa akong bana unya nakakita ko ug Tang. Tang Orange Juice. Nakahinumdum hinoon ko sa akong pagkabata ug gi storyahan nako akong bana. Kaniadto gagmay pa mi, duna koy Uncle ug Auntie nga nag puyo sa Dubai. Kugi kaayo mag padala ug dagko nga lata sa Tang, Chocolates, Shampoo or Sabon nga Dove. Kaming mga paryente malipay gyud pag makadawat pero in ani ang sitwasyon. Ang package mo abot didto sa sinaligan nga pag-umangkon dayon siya mag divide and distribute. Mostly ma kadawat man mi pero sa nagdako na ko na notice nako dili baya diay equal ang pag hatag ug usahay walay amo. Depende sab sa favorite sa akong igaw nga taga distribute. Dili man gyud sab ko hilig ug imported or nice and expensive things pero of course malipay ka kung makadawat diba? Ang tang is the most controversial. Talagsa kaayo mi makadawat so wala gyud na ko manganduy. Hinoon mopalit mi sa ako Mama ug baratohon nga juice brand instead. Naanad mi atong baratohon nga juice brand, pareho sab sa dove nga sabon pero ganahan gyud unta ko ug dove. Nag graduate ko, nag trabaho sa Japanese Company, tapos niadto sa Japan. Six years ko didto, nabuhong sa ako gusto. Ang ako ginikanan nag abroad sa Los Angeles so ang nabilin akong manghud. Pura sa imported supplies kaming tanan. Kinsay may mag dahum! Ironic kaayo kay katong akong ig-agaw wala na man ma padalhi kay akong Uncle ug Auntie nibalhin man sa Australia, sa amo na sya mangayo ron. Dili ra ba gyud ko makalimot. Dili sab ko dalo. Sa dugay na kung panahon nag puyo abroad karon nia na man gani ko sa Sacramento, California karon pa gyud nako mahinumduman ang feelings nako adtong panahona nga deprived me ug karon nga makapalit ko ug bisan pila ka tang or sabon nga dove ako gusto, karon pag kakita lang nako sa tang.

Akong bana ni ingon «If I met you a long time ago I would have sent you boxes of those» Pero para nako, mas na appreciate nako karon nga mi-agi ko adtong experience. Sigurado sab ko nga nakamata na akong ig-agaw karon nga unta bisan sa gagmayng butang fair ug honest siya. Kay dili lagi pareho ang panahon.

Nov 08 2005

This time of the year…

Sigh….
It bugs me alright. The wind, the cold air, the sunny skies, my nerves. My nerves are just kind of telling me I should feel dejavu-ish about all these phenomenon all around me. I keep on shaking my senses as if telling myself — hello, wake up! You’re not in the Philippines anymore. Stop dreaming. Get on with life. — I should say, the other part of my brain is pulling the other side to join it in its crusade and successfully, that part of the brain, the dominant one, finally convince the other side and together they’re one in saying, in unison with my heart — Pasko na sa Pilipinas.

Sigh.
Except for the all-year-round lights of the apartment unit across us, I couldn’t identify any other sign that Christmas is almost few days away and my heart’s in a slump. I cannot feel the Christmas spirit here except for, as i’ve said, the colder than usual temperature and the wind — reminds me of the many times I get off from the taxi right in front of entrance no. 4 at SM Mall or the entrance in Metro Gaisano at Ayala Center, armed with my list of what to buy and my pre-loaded ATM card (thanks to the early 13th month bonus), ready to do my first round of holiday shopping extended until the last minute before the mall closes on the 24th of December.

Sigh.
I used to get irked by the street children with their «we wish you a-merry christmas» sang off-key as they kept on following me from all over the street unto the door of the apartment. Right now, I will gladly trade my new and unread Nicholas Sparks’ book for one street kid caroller to sing that gleeful, even out of tune song and, maybe, even give the kid a jollibee treat right after or even before he utter the second line.

Sigh.
By now, my mama has already transform the house into a-blinking, a-dazzling, a-sight-to-behold menagerie of a small department store with all the christmas decors she could get hold of, mostly salvaged from last year’s decor complete with a «belen» while at the front door hangs multi-coloured lights-kumukutikutitap-. Ah yes, one time, we even have a small christmas tree with balls and angels and christmas lights. I wonder if mama still makes paper candles?

Sigh.
I remember CbyT days, the pre-christmas «where-should-we-hold-our-christmas-dinner?» hundred euro question hanging in the air. In 1998, on the first advent, we had it at Plantation Bay together with almost 20 expats and their families, staying overnight in one of its luxurious rooms, feeling kind of rich in experience and thinking «this-is-how-the-rich-spend-their-money» kind of feeling, with dinner and brunch in the patio while we entertain our expats with our grandeuse voices. In 1999 at Marriott with Mr. & Mrs. Eckart, exchanging gifts over lunch buffet, 2000 in Kamayan with the Eckarts, 2001 in a chinese resto inside Waterfron Lahug (geez, forgot the name) with Sir Butch and Ma’am Dely, 2002 in Cebu Plaza (before they close) and 2003 in Mandarin at Gaisano Country Mall, this time it was only with 2 expats and our MD, Sir Butch, Balot, Chat and me. The friends’ get-together impromptu christmas party a few days before christmas, the following day with moi feeling kind of baroque as I maneuvered towards the gangplank (?) of the ship taking me to my hometown and into the waiting arms of my family in Ozamiz and a family reunion in Sinonoc. It seems like there’s always a party everywhere.

Sigh.
I remember Nat’s first christmas and Gab’s round eyes looking at all the fireworks. Mesmerized perhaps at how such colourful lights bring thunderous sounds. Nat crying all the time, confused with all those loud noises. The «Noche Buena», the cakes from Leona’s and Marriott, the exchanging and opening of gifts. The «manita, manito» which reminds me how I always get angel figurines.

Sigh.
It’s almost christmas and here I am again wishing i’m back home.

Snap.
End of melancholy.

Next weekend, i’ll personally go to our stockroom and get the box where my christmas lights are stored and I will start decorating the house. I still have to get a tree but hey, with or without a tree, i’ll grab and set the christmas spirit and put it in our home, right where it should belong and maybe, well maybe, i’ll sing «we wish you a merry christmas» as loud as the child caroller from back home as I don my own decors in the house. Might as well sing… deck the halls with boughs of holly, falalalalalalala…….

Oh sigh…..

Nov 05 2005

Eid in Baguio…

My friends and I got back from our Baguio trip yesterday. We got here (Quezon City) at around 9:30 in the morning. At around 10:00, I fell asleep and I woke up in the evening! I was dead tired! It was a fun, fun, fun trip! I really loved all the places we went to. It’s always nice to go to places just to unwind, relax and look around. And, it’s doubly nice when one goes with good friends.

Nov 05 2005

Nothing beats a photo-op like this

Amidst gloomy skies and wet roads, the smiles of these two surely bright up my foggy saturday……Haay, wish I could put some words to justify this post some more but my lazy mind is wandering into la-la land.

Next time maybe? I hate to procrastinate but here I am. Happy weekend everyone.

Nov 05 2005

isang buwan na lang

1 month and 9 days to go and i will be 24. oh my god, hindi ko na pwedeng kantahin yung Real ni Plumb, hehehe. so what are my plans? nothing. no cakes, no ice creams, no balloons, no spaghettis, no party. it will just be an ordinary day for me. wala lng, madadagdagan lang naman ang edad ko. nothing extraordinary. wish ko lang magkaroon ng meteor showers para naman something extraordinary will happen, hehehe…let’s just wait and see if something «extraordinary» will happen on that day, and if ever i will celebrate it, when and where would it be? baka maki-hitch na naman ako sa birthday ng pamangkin ko just like last year’s.

Nov 05 2005

nothing much…hohum…

i’ve been stuck in the house for 3 months and counting. memorize ko na lahat ng tv shows and commercials. i finished reading all the books in my room, some of them i read twice already. i have been getting enough sleep. nakapag-exam na ako sa 2 companies na inapplyan ko. had a job interview with another company (school), but unfortunately i was not hired. ang tanga kasi ng sagot ko sa last question, gggrrrrr….(i hate myself). when i left the school’s HR Office, i already knew i didn’t make it. nung Oct. 24-25 pa ang huli kong raket, and i’m not sure if i could still get another project to work on. sana pumasa ako dun sa last exam ko, and i hope they would hire me…i really wanna go back to work.

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