PALAWAN: BARAS

Eto ang munting tula...

BUHANGIN


Parang saliw ng buhangin,
nakikita mo ako –
ngunit hindi
mo ako pinapansin.

Parang alon ng dagat,
nilulunod mo ako
sa iyong tingin – at ‘di
mo ito napapansin.

Parang ihip ng hangin,
niyayakap kita,
palihim – at ‘di
mo dapat ito mapansin.

At parang dalampsagigang
may inililihim,
minamahal kita…

…’di mo ba napapansin?

~~~~~

BARAS


Mejo eyep ang baras,
nakikita mo ako -
pero ara mo ako
ning iniintindi.

Mejo daluyon ang dagat,
inglelelemes mo ako
sa imong paneling - ig ara
mo ako naintindi.

Mejo eyep ang angina,
ingkekepan takaw,
Patago - ig indi
mo ako ing intindi.

Ig mejo baybayen
Nga ing tatagó,
ing gegegma takaw…

…ara mo ba naintindian?

----

Biglang kumati ang mga kamay ko sa Sabang Beach, Palawan hindi dahil sa buhangin o dahil sa alon ng dagat – kung hindi dahil sa mga letrang nais lumabas at makilangoy sa kapwa nila letra, upang makabuo ng mga salita ng araw, tubig, at buhangin.

Ang problema: wala akong pluma at papel habang kaharap ko ang dalampasigan, tahimik na minamasdan ang mga ka-opisinang nakikipagkaibigan sa mababagsik na mga alon.

Ang solusyon: ginawa kong pluma ang aking daliri at ginawa kong papel ang handog ni Sabang Beach sa nangangati kong kamay – ang buhangin.

At ang naging bunga ng pakikipagsapalaran ay ang Buhangin. Isinalin ng aming tour guide na si Edna B. de Los Angeles ang Buhangin sa Cuyuno. (Ang Cuyuno ang lokal na wika ng mga Cayunonen o Cayunon, mga mamamayanan ng Cuyo Island, Palawan*.) Dahil sa pagsalin ng mga letrang Tagalog sa letrang Cuyuno, ang Buhangin ay naging Baras.


----
*www.ncca.gov.ph

Pasalamat: kay Mark Joseph Pizana sa pagkuha sa larawang nakatalikod ako. Hindi mabubuo ang buhangin kung wala ito. Salamat kaibigan.
at Kay Kaibigang Panginoon sa mga lihim ng Palawan at paggawa ng sapat na mga elemento para makunan ko ang kagandahan ng mga ito. Lubos kaming pinagpala sa Inyong Kabutihan.

PALAWAN: HINGA MALALIM

---

Masaya kung mag-isa ka lang.
Yung hindi mo iniintindi ang mundong nakalibot sa ‘yo.
Tanging ikaw lang at ang mundo mo – hindi mundo nila o mundo niya, kung hindi mo lang.

Bakit tahimik ka?, tanong niya.

Nakikihati lang sa katahimikan ng dagat, sagot ko.

Bakit, tahimik ba?

Oo, tahimik – tahimik sa mundo ko…

…(hinga malalim) at ng karagatan.

Walang imik.

Naging tahimik muli.

PALAWAN: FUNDADOR

-------------

FUNDADOR
-------------

Bangag ako
at
ako’y natutu
naw sa iyong mga tingin –
tila bituin na pitil kong minimitih, atttt ang
iyong mga labbi, na puno ng “”after-mark

s” ng ininum na
FUNDaDor, ay ang SiyAA’ng
Dahilla NG pagka ngayonG GGABI(.)
N lasing

M

A

H

H

A

L

KITA, nngguunniittt tanging ALAK
lang
nga makakaRINIG saaa dalamhating ito –
dalamhaati sapagkat, RAK ‘EN ROL,
hindi mo
ako
pwedeng mahalin, tang ina mo!!!1
HINDi PWEDE
AKONG MAHALIN
…TagAY…
At habang, nagshishinungaling ang Camay
Ko-o sa pagkaMATINO…
Patuloy,,, kong hinahabi ang aikng isipan –
N apuno ng mga pangarap ng
Ikaw ang tayong dalawa ---
Ako at
Sha mundo ng kalasingan,
Sha mundo ng aking Pantasya….



!RAK ‘EN ROL!

---------

Ishinulat sa Palawan habang medyo nakakainum na ang aking bibig at nagmamakatino ang aking mga kamay. Rak ‘En Rol!!! Mukhang mineral water bottle sa blog, tunay na Fundador sa Word Document, rak 'en rol!!!

PALAWAN

---

Ang susunod na tatlong katha ay isinulat ko sa Puerto Princesa – isa habang ako’y nagpapatino mula sa pag-inom ng Fundador, isa habang ako’y tahimik at inuutusan ko ang sarili na Hinga Ng Malalim, at ang isa habang nakikipagsapalaran sa huni ng Buhangin.

Sana maibigan ninyo ang mga muthing komposisyong ito habang sinusulat ko pa ang mga naganap sa aming cluster outing sa...

PALAWAN!!!

DAY SEVEN: BALIK

---

No pictures were taken as I left Dipolog and my family. I don’t want to hold false pretenses in my memory bank. I don’t want to smile gladly at the camera’s flash when all I want is to be at one corner, alone, like that Silent Kid in Kindergarten. I don’t want to leave the place…

…but I need to.

I wonder now what my love ones are doing back in their normal lives. After one week of welcoming me back into their system, they will have to return to the normal process of contact - hearing my voice over the phone, viewing uploaded pictures at Friendster, non-stop texting of kamustahans and missing yous. Yes, much like what an OFW family normally does.

If only Dipolog was relocated to Laguna or Makati be a two-hour ride away from the Boulevard. If only vacation leaves be accommodated weekly and work pressures be reduced to the regular Monday to Friday, eight to five work schedules. If only meeting them was as easy as answering a pop quiz in Facebook: “Find out what City you want to be in now?”

DIPOLOG CITY!

Oh, well. There’s nothing I can do except than to wait for cold December breeze to bring me back to my place.

For now, I’m staying away from Michael Buble’s “I Wanna Go Home” and Daughtry’s “Home” - knowing how much it might lead to depression like what happened back in college, third year. But come to think of it, that depression led to one tWs article, Babalik Ka Rin, which I have always considered a “good pat on the back.”

Self-Inflicted Depression, Silent Kid?

“…another sunny place, I’m lucky I know but I wanna go home, I got to go home, let me go home, I’m just too far, from where you are, I wanna come home…”

DAY SIX: BAKIT

Mama said it best, “The problem with hello is goodbye.”

Six days ago, my dream of going back to Dipolog and spending time with people “that matter most in my life” came true. And now, as I write this, I have to temporarily leave this home (again) and trade all this unconditional love I get from my humble abode for the harsh and often unforgiving realities of Makati.

Reflecting back on the six cumulative days I had here, I would have to painfully accept the fact that vacation leaves would most probably be the routine for the rest of my professional life. That’s the reality probinsyanos like me are facing, in search of “greener pastures”. Knowing how meager my salary is, I would say “greener experiences” would be the more appropriate term.

I now ask myself a serious question: Is the search for “greener experiences” worth the sacrifice of being away from my family for months? Is the “market value” greater than spending time recharging your “family values”? Is the sacrifice, per se, worth it?

That remains a great debate on my part, honestly.

As I have said in Day One, I’m not used to the Dipolog City life anymore. My dear city may not provide the thrills and excitement of growth as much as Makati would offer. But one thing Makati cannot buy away from Dipolog is the fact that the latter would always be my home, my humble sanctuary. It is where I was educated to be who I am now, and much I owe back to her.

Dipolog is where I could freely taste Mama’s adobo, intellectually learn from Papa Kik’s principles, and genuinely tease my brother whose growing up quickly like the giant Goliath. It is where strolling around the Boulevard with my friends would, in an instant, bring us back to our high school uniform and tuksuhan days.

Dipolog is where everyday and everything looks, sounds, and feels free. In the words of Daughtry’s Home, “where feeling good don’t ever cost a thing, and the pain you feel is a different kind of pain.”

Going back to the Orchid City has become more than an approved Vacation Leave – it has become a humbling experience.

It has thought me how valuable my family is.

How they have shared their efforts in preparing a small thanksgiving beach party for my return. Kung si Obet pa, “Ah, warag gikan Canada.” How papa purposely shaved his moustache, “as to disguise his personal business matters.” How mama prepared my favorite adobo for my first Dipolog meal after eight months of separation.

It has also thought me how valuable friendship is.

How I chose to spend time with friends “that matter most in my life”. How a simple kamustahan would easily rekindle the months of not having to communicate personally. How a simple advice would mean the world to a recently heartbroken pal (ok lang yan pre).

It has also thought me what humility truly is.

How my high school teachers still remember that thin nerd they used to teach some five years ago. How the Cathedral helped me thank for the many prayers that has been answered by humbling before His presence. How this starting Makati lad has and will always be that “small probinsyano boy with big skyscraper dreams.”

But I’m leaving this Home for now. I’ll be back by December, by God’s grace.

By afternoon tomorrow, I’ll be surrounded by the four walls of my rented apartment unit, equally anticipating conversations with my “adapted family.”

My roommates will surely ask how the vacation went, and one thing I would sure say…

“THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME.”

DAY FIVE: BLAKBORD II

"Ang hindi marunong lumingon sa pinangalingan ay hindi makakarating sa paroroonan." - Gat Jose Rizal

Ilang taon na rin ang nakalipas nang muli akong tumuntong sa Mataas na Paaralan ng Saint Vincent’s College, ang aking high school alma mater. Ang huli kong bisita sa aking mga guro ay noong mag-aaral pa lamang ako ng Accountancy sa Unibersidad ng Silliman, noong ikalawang baitang ata..

Ngayon aka’y Certified Public Accountant na, naisip kong nararapat lamang na bumalik ako sa paaralang aking pinanggalingan, ang institusyong humubog di lamang sa aking edukasyon, ngunit pati na rin sa aking karakter at determinasyong may mararating rin ang ambisyosong mag-aaral na ito.

Kasama ko ang aking batchmate at mabuting kaibigan na si Clair Rubia sa pagbabalik-paaralan ko sa araw na ito.

At ang unang bumungad sa amin ay ang School Gate, na naka-drawing ang emblem ng Saint Vincent’s College, na may mottong Viritas Liberabit Vos o The Truth Shall Set You Free. Napansin naming hindi lamang ang School Gate ang nagbago mula nang lisanin namin ang “High School Life.”

Sa labas, tanaw namin ang ika-lawang baitang ng gusali ng Elementarya. Dati rati’y isang baitang lamang ito. Ngayon, dalawa na’t fully-airconditioned rooms pa. Nabatid ko na marami pang panibagong bagay-bagay ang malalaman ko sa aming pagpasok muli sa SVC Basic Education Campus…

At nagsimula ang aming pagbabalik-paaralan sa pagpasok kay School Gate.

Nakakatuwang isipin na sa pagpasok pa lamang namin, binati agad ako ni Mister Security Guard. Naalala niya pa pala ang pagmumukhang ito. Ang dating Lampayatot ay kahit papaano’y nagkatimbang na rin. Kaya natuwa ako sa aming simpleng kamustuhan, na kahit ilang libong estudyante man ang labas-pasok na binabantayan niya, naalala niya pa rin si Nino Gonzales ng Batch 2004.

Nahiya kaming dumeretso sa High School Department kaya dumetour muna kami sa Elementary Building. At doon ko nakita muli Si Sir Rey Rivas, ang aming Chemistry at Geometry Instructor noong third year. Siya rin ang naging coach ko noong nanalo ako sa Panlalawigang Patimpalak sa Matematika noong second year, kaya masasabi ko may pinagsamahan din kami. Siya na pala ang Chemistry Head ng paaralan ngayon, pati na rin sa Kolehiyo. At ang advice niya sa akin (in the dialect)…

“…habang kaya pa nang utak, mag-law ka. Maganda pakinggan na CPA ka na, lawyer ka pa.”
At ang tangi kong nasabi ay, “pag-iisipan ko po.”

Nagkaroon na kami ng sapat na lakas para lumakad sa dati naming hallway.

Naman, ang mga silid-aralan ngayo’y may kulay na, di katulad ng dati beige and brown lang ang tema ng bawat silid. Ngayon ay may graffiti art na ang isang kwarto, ang isa nama’y temang-berde.

At sa hallway harap ng Room 25 (IV- St. Therese of the Child Jesus noon III- St. Claire ngayon), nakita ko ang ilan sa aking mga paboritong gurong nagtipon-tipon bago magsimula ang 4:00 p.m. class.

Naroon si Mam Brenda Lou Espinosa na History Teacher naming buong high school life. Siya rin ang School Paper Adviser ng The Vincentian at ng Ang Siklab at naging Official Coach sa mga Schools Press Conferences na sinalihan namin.

Ang unang nasabi niya sa akin, “ngayon ka lang bumalik kung kalian CPA ka na.” Ngunit nakita ko sa kanya ang tagumpay ng isang guro sa tagumpay ng kanyang mag-aaral. Masaya siyang makita muli ang estudyanteng nag-puwersige para makamit ang pinakamataas na parangal sa pagtatapos. She knows how much struggle I went through before.

Naroon din si Mam Luz Velasco na aming Technology and Home Education instructor mula first year hanggang fourth year. Hindi ko alam kung bakit nag-mano ako sa kanya sapagkat hindi ko naman siya naging ninang. Marahil ito’y simbolo ng pag-respeto, pagbibigay-galang sa isang Inang nagturo sa amin ng kahalagahan ng buhay-bahay at sa pag-anticipate ng mahihirap na tanong sa pagsusulit. Blank is the blank of the blank.

Naroon siyempre si Sir Wilfredo Gementiza, guro sa Filipino, first year to fourth year. Nami-miss na namin ang mga biruan niya tuwing may klase, mga hirit na kahit minsan ma’y “ibang kahulugan” ay patok pa rin sa lahat ng mag-aaral. “Hindi pa rin nagbago ang Sir naming”, pakiwari ko, “mister Suave pa rin ang dating, parang walang tinanda kahit ilang taon na kaming hindi nagkakita.” At ang dakila niyang payo sa kanyang dating mag-aaral…

“…habang kaya pa nang utak, mag-law ka. Maganda pakinggan na CPA ka na, lawyer ka pa.”
Ang tangi kong nasabi ay, “pag-iisipan ko po.”

Nag-ring ang bell (matagal na rin nang huli ko ‘tong narinig.)

Nagsipasok ang mga guro sa kanilang mga klase kaya naglibot-libot muna kami ni Clair sa iba’t ibang mga silid-aralan para makita ang mga guro.

Naroon sa Room 65 si Mam Janeth Sevilla, English teacher. Hindi naming siya naging guro ngunit malaking tulong ang nagawa niya bilang Speech and Drama Club Adviser naming. She thought me the basics of extemporaneous speaking and helped improved my public speaking skills. Naman.

Naroon sa Room 60 si Mam Leonora Galon, ang aming pinakamamahal na Physics Teacher at Fourth Year Class Adviser. Hindi namin makakalimutan ang pag-cancel niya ng mahihirap na mga Physics problem – density, gravitational pull, acceleration, atbp. At Theresians, malilimutan ba natin ang ating Bato Balani examinations at battery of much-deserved sermons galing sa kanya?

Umakyat kami sa ikalawang palapag na bahagi ng isang gusali ng departamento. Ba’t wala nang library? Napalitan na nang bagong silid-aralan?

Biro ni Clair, ang tatlong palapag ng gusaling iyon ay simbolo ng iyong katalinuhan. Habang pataas ka raw ng palapag, mas mababa daw ang intellectual capacity” mo.

Kawawa naman ang nasa itaas. Wala namang ganoon dati, ah.

At sa ikatlong palapag, sa pinakamataas na baitang, naroon pala ang dalawang Physical Education teachers at ang CAT commander namin.

Naroon si Mam Doris Olib, Physical Education teacher namin, second year to fourth year. Napansin ko lang na sa paglipas ng panaho’y gumaganda ang guro namin ito. Eh, binuking ni Sir Fredo ang sekreto ni Mam Olib. “May lovelife siya sa Makati, Gerard ang pangalan.” Naman, kaya naman pala. Congratulations Mam.

Naroon si Mam Rona Cajocon, isa pang Physical Education teacher. Naging Adviser siya sa SVC Dance Troop na kinabibilangan ko dati. Silang dalawa ni Mam Olib ang naging mga tagapangulo kung bakit palaging nag-kakampyon ang SVC sa Red Cross Dance Contest noong kapanahunan namin.
Kapanahunan daw oh. Tumatanda na tayo Clair.

Naroon rin si Sir Kirk Tanara, ang aming CAT Chief Commander. About Face. Harap sa Kaliwa Na. Umaasenso na ngayon si Sir ngayon. May maliit na refrigeration repair shop na at siya ang Head Technician. Commandant – Technician rolled into one. Naman. Congratulations Sir. We salute You.

Bumalik kami sa palapag ng Department at pumanta ako sa Principal’s Office – ang dating rendezvous ng Student Supreme Council, ang venue ng special examinations, at ang practice area for public speaking contests.

Doon nag-report ako muli kay Mister Felipe Baloria Junior, Assistant-to-the-Principal, ang aming nag-iisang Speech and Public Speaking Teacher from first to third year. Naku, malaki ang naitulong si Sir Baloria sa public speaking skills naming Batch 2004. Kung hindi dahil sa kanya, marahil baluktot kami mag-Ingles at “we would not have had the courage to face crowds of different personas if it weren’t for him” tama ba Sir?

At ang dakila niyang payo sa kanyang dating mag-aaral…
“…habang kaya pa nang utak, mag-law ka. Maganda pakinggan na CPA ka na, lawyer ka pa.”
Ang tangi kong nasabi ay, “pag-iisipan ko po.”

Naisip ko kung bakit halos lahat ng aking mga guro ay nais akong mag-abugasya. Attorney Nino Jose B. Gonzales, CPA.
Maganda naman pakinggan di ba?
Pero maganda bang pakinggan ng puso ko ang titulong ito?

Ang “pag-iispan ko po” ay malapit ko na sanang “gagawin ko po” sa tamang panahon…
… hanggang nagbigay ng payo si Mam Necit Realiza, Values Education teacher noong forth year, kay Clair ukol sa darating na resulta ng June Nursing Examinations…

“(in the dialect)…kung hindi para sa iyo, hindi para sa iyo. Hindi ibibigay ng Diyos ang hindi para sa ‘yo. Gawin mo ang gusto mo. Yung gusto mo ang gusto ng Diyos.”

Very well said. Salamat sa dakilang payo, Ma’m Necit. Hindi ninyo alam kung gaano ninyo napagaan ang pakiramdam namin. Totoo naman ang sinabi niya di ba, Inigo, CPA?

Nag-ring na rin ang huling bell sa araw na iyon. Nagsi-uwian na rin ang ilang estudyante at mga guro na muling nakapiling pagkaraan ng ilang taon.

Pumasok kami sa dati naming Theresians room, umupo ulit sa mga masasayang karanasang kay sarap-sarap balikan. Nakuha pa naming magsulat sa pisara ng dating silid.

“We were here – Gonzales, Batch ’04 – Rubia, Batch ‘ 04”
At higit sa lahat…
“…SAVE!!! Enjoy your HS Life. It’s the best – batch ‘04”

DAY FOUR: BLAKBORD I

Today, I became the official yayo for my kid-o cousin Karl. It’s funny to note that some sixteen years ago (you’re probably counting fingers right now), his dada used to do the same thing whenever she visits Zamboanga City.

I clearly remember how mama would everyday drag me to my Kindergarten seat despite my constant and almost ear-dropping screams. (It must have been an everyday struggle for her. Sorry Ma.) But when Karl’s dada was the official yayo, I was behaved, relaxed, and proper. Looking back, I wonder if mama wished my aunt had lived in our house for the duration of my Kindergarten life.

I still remember my big lunchbox my mama neatly prepared with everyday knick-knacks for recess. And yes Nika, the robot pencil case with magic buttons and robot tumbler would never be forgotten too. (I was into robots when I was younger. And by the way, Nika is my childhood friend whom I met in Kinder - 1)

Sigh.

Enough of that nostalgia, though. Let’s go back to our main lesson today.
During my two-hour pro bono job as the official yayo for my dear kid-o, I spotted this kid who apparently cried after being teased by his seatmate “na dili kabalo maghimu ug rectangle (you don’t know how to make a rectangle)”. I told to myself, “(hahaha…) parehas naku, dali muhilak (the kid was like me, I easily cried before)”. Then, I searched for Nika and found this adorable kid who fondly told jokes to his classmates. Oh, there goes the bullies who used to teased me lampayatot before. Ah, then there’s the wonderful sight of my grade school crush, Nicola…

…And the mixing-and-matching of former classmates became my assignment while Karl listened attentively to teacher demonstrating how to draw a rectangle.

In that preoccupied time I had, I realized that we being stereotypes of some sort started way earlier than our hairs were fully grown in all geographic parts, way earlier than we knew about the birds and the bees, and way before we realized we are a stereotype of some sorts.

Yes folks, it started in Kindergarten One.

There’s that Sick Kid who was excused from class exercises because of asthma the night before. He would just seat back in his small chair, coughing, not knowing how his asthma would excuse him from PE requirements and Intramurals years after.

There’s the Class Jock, the kind the teacher would affectionately call gwapo.
He would probably get the Class Muse or the Class Epal impregnated before he turns eighteen.

There’s the Class Epal who would raise her hand proudly to show off to class (and to Class Jock) how intelligent she actually (thinks she) is. She would answer in echoes, and what she gets from the teacher is an honest “hindi ka ba nag-aral kagabi. (Did you not study last night?”). Her ambition is to become the press secretary of another epal president.

There’s the Silent Kid who refuses to raise his hand (unlike his alter-ego, the Class Epal) and chooses to just listen attentively to teacher. He will stage his own Emo Concert someday and would work on making this world a “gutted town of perplexed and disturbed specimens.”

There’s the Behaved Nerd, Silent Kid’s best friend. He easily perfects the class exam and unselfishly shares assignments with the Mean Girls. He dreams of rocket science, rubix’s cube, and his own IT company someday.

There’s the Mean Girls, (feeling) gorgeous ladies who would pack in threes to devastate Class Muse’s decent recess and Behaved Nerd’s homework. One would grow up a stripper; the other, a professional guest relations officer; the last, a successful wife of a dirty old man.

There’s the Class Muse, Miss Prim and Proper, adorably seated in her own thrown. She doesn’t do a thing but Class Torpe’s eyes are fixated by her charm. She will eventually become the title holder for Binibining Pilipinas, with Class Torpe as her escort.

There’s the Class Muse’s best friend forever, Miss Trying Hard. She dons all the fake accessories and the inarte twang to equate herself with the Class Muse. She would become the founder of a leading comestic brand.

There’s the Class Torpe, the kid who does his best in class to impress the Class Muse. He would get three stars and sighs when Class Muse acknowledges his presence. He would later become his dream girl’s beau.

Yes Karl, ikaw si Class Torpe ug si Alex si Class Muse.
Uy, gi-kilig akong bata.

There you go.
Stereotypes amongst stereotypes. Cliches amongst clichés.
Admit it. We belong to one of those stereos. Which one do you belong to?

And the bell rings for recess.

And there’s the Class Payatot who cried when he lost the Academic Jumble in the Final Round. He loved counting chicks sixteen years ago that he eventually took up Accountancy. He now writes for his blogspot and became a pro bono official CPA-yayo for today.

-----------
Teacher!Teacher!

Teacher (T): Class, this is a rectangle (points to picture). What is this again class?

Class (C) : Rectangle

T: Very Good. Anong mga bagay ang kasinghugis ng rectangle?

Student 1 (S1): Ma’am Unlan.

T: Very Good. Anong Tagalog ng Unlan, Class?

S2: Unan Ma’m.

T: Very Good. Ano naman sa Ingles ang Unan. Sino may alam?

(Class silent. Owl makes a sound.)

T: Class, ang Ingles sa unan ay – PELLOW! PELLOW!
Ano sa Ingles ang unan class?

C: (in assured unison) PELLOW!!!!

T: Ano ulit?

C: PELLOW!!!

T: Very Good Class.

Class Payatot: Very Good. Oh God, save our educational system here in the Philippines.

------

Teacher! Teacher!

Teacher asked a question while some active students (especially Class Epal) answered like it was World Summit of Leaders. Teacher intervened.

Teacher: Class, para maintindihan natin ang isa’t isa, dapat isa-isa tayong magsalita tapos yung iba tahimik muna na makikinig.

Teacher left without letting the Summit of Leaders answer one by one.

Class Payatot: Ironic. Teacher, be a (wo)man of your words next time, ok?

DAY THREE: BEACH

DAY THREE, JULY 12

PAKIUSAP:

It was a reunion of sorts.
Feet over Sand
Sand over Waves
Waves over Feet.


PAKIWARI:

…pagkaraan ng walong buwang pagkakawalay sa yakap ng alon at panaghoy ng simoy ng hangin, sa wakas, natikman ng aking sabik na katawan ang kiliti ng pagdampi ng tubig, paunti-unti sa aking balat…

…Ang dalampisaga’y naging isang malaking kama, at ako’y patuloy na sumisid, at naghanap ng panibagong karanasan. Ang dagat ay mistulang kumot, tinatakpan sa mundo ang aking malikot na sekreto. Ang buhangin ay tila mga pira-pirasong paggunita na lamang ng aking nakaraang paglalakbay…

...At pagkatapos lumangoy,
sumisid,
at lumangoy ulit, ako’y lumabas sa kamang iyon – basang-basa, humihingal, pagod na pagod, parang nakailan…

…nakailang sisid at langoy.

…At sa pagdampot ng aking basang paa sa mga buhangin ng nakalimot na panahon, tinanong ko sa sarili…

…kalian kaya ako mapapagod ulit ng ganoon?


PAGSASALARAWAN:

Masaya ang naganap. Ang naganap ay masaya. Masaya.

DAY TWO: BASICS

Day Two, July 11, 2009

Return to basics, back to things that really matter. Things away from the demands of this fast-paced world. Things that are important. Things that really matter.
Returning to basics. Returning to those precious things. Things that make life a beautiful portrait to look at. Things that are basic. Things unknown to the fast-paced world.
That is the basic.

It’s about those little smiles,
And how those eyes speak.
It’s about looking above,
And where it all came from.



It’s about those little efforts
And how it made him proud.
It’s about wearing that shirt,
And how his hugs meant after.






It’s about those little squabbles,
And how the friendship begun.
It’s about having those chums,
And how you made that leap.





It’s about being a mystery,
And how you became one.
It’s about spotting differences,
And how you found none.





It’s about not color nor number
And how it confuses them. But
It’s about sharing that bouquet of roses,
And how it made one dance – alone.


It’s about taking a break,
And how it feels damn good.
It’s about feeling good,
And how it feels damn good.





And...




It’s about finding a family,
And how you are always loved.
It’s about sharing memories,
And how time cherishes them…


…forever.

DAY ONE: BAHAY

“…I’m going to the place where love
feeling good don’t even cost a thing,
And the pain you feel is a different kind of pain…”

Being away from home for almost eight months (seven months, twenty-seven days to be exact) became the longest months of my life so far. And I mean, longest. In that span of time, I had to create a new atmosphere, a new world where I could fit in or that world created would fit in intomy needs.
New people I can call friends. New friends I can call family. New family I can call my own.
My own.
And yet in that new Makati life I now live in, where new people eventually became familiar acquaintances, I realize those skyscraper dreams and busy traffic lights could never replace the quiet breeze of the boulevard or the industry of the sturdy pedicab, more so, of the basic sikad-sikad. That the finest dishes served in any given Friday hang-outs could never surpass the affection in mama’s home-cooked meals. That living in a condominium unit or a decent apartment is incomparable to sleeping at the floor of your humble abode. And that, what I own now could never substitute what I already own – back in Dipolog, back in my home.
I needed to be back there, back to that place irreplaceable by new worlds or new acquaintances. Back to that place where everything is almost free and unconditional, monetary factor considered. Back to that place I call my own.
And so…

“…I [went] home, back to the place where I belong,
Where [their] love is always been enough for me…
I don’t regret this life I chose for me,
but these faces and these places are going old…
So I [went] home…”

I’m on vacation leave officially today, July 10, until the 16th. And God knows how many times I’ve conversed with Him just for this answered prayer.
As I write this, I am comfortably seated in our so-called rest house (it’s more of a “rest room” really) in Kabasalan, Zamboanga Sibugay where I would spend time with my family and relatives until the 12th. It’s about 1:30 in the morning, and heck, it’s been a long day.
But hey, it’s been a day worth recounting. And in the spirit of our company’s adage of “if it’s not documented, it’s not done”, I shall now journalize [ technical: document] the beginning of my sojourn to my Dear Home, Old Dipolog.

Friday, July 10

6:30 a.m.
After [eight] months being away from my family, I am finally HOMEBOUND. Thank You Lord for this blessing. You have answered
my prayers once again. You’re the best. Hoping for a safe trip.
(scribbled on my company task planner).

Eventually left the apartment around quarter to eight.

8:28 a.m.

Time stands still as if it wasn’t moving
Can’t wait to strike at ten of the clock.
- NAIA, going home at last
(scribbled)


PAL flight delayed for almost an hour.


12:30 p.m.

Finally arrived at the Dipolog Airport. I was almost teary-eyed when the plane landed. “makikita ko na pamilya ko,” naisip ko. But I controlled it though, knowing how much my homesickness has become the center of our office jokes. Oo na, mama’s boy na kung mama’s boy. Totoo naman eh.

Speaking of mama, she barely recognized me when I stepped out of the airport tarmac. Must be my Jericho sleeves, though. I saw mama’s teary-eyed smile and brother’s growing archipelago of pimples. For papa, he’s back in Ipil, equally anticipating his son’s retun.

1:30 p.m
At sa wakas, natikman ko na ang masarap na adobo ni Inay.
Walang Katulad. Walang Kapantay.

5:30 p.m.
Serious mode tayo ‘tol.

I’m not used to how sleepy Dipolog is. I’m happy though, of the little developments I have seen today – Lee Deparment Store officially at full cycle, with the opening of my favorite fastfood resto, Chowking; the public market has a newly-furnished building; some small buildings have been erected. “Kahit papaano, may nagbago”, wari ko.
But I just could not see myself having an accounting career in my old city. It’s progressing, alright. But it’s still sleepy for me. The jobs you might get here is the one that’s routine, cyclical, and frankly, boring. Hindi na ako sanay sa ganoong pamumuhay. Mas pinipili ko pa ang ingay at mabilis na pagtakbo ng oras ng Makati kaysa sa pagtulog at pagpapahinga nito sa Dipolog.

And then humility stroke me.

Napaisip ako…Hindi ba ang tulog na lugar na tinutukoy ko ngayon ay ang siyang unang gumising sa aking mga pangarap?
Dito nagsimula ang mga mithiin kong makapagtapos ng pag-aaral at makipagsapalaran sa mabagsik na lungsod ng Makati.
Dito nagsimula ang lahat.
At ngayon, kinukutya ko na ang pook na naging simula ng aking mga pangarap. Sa isip ko, gusto
kong humingi ng tawad…At sana nawa’y pinatawad Niya ako.

It was a humbling experience, knowing this dressed-in-tie Inigo Makati Boy, have been and will always be that “small Dipolog probinsyano boy with big Makati skyscraper dreams.”

Salamat Dipolog.

6:30 p.m.
On my way to Kabasalan, Zamboanga Sibugay. My relatives, mostly from my mother’s side, reside in this municipality. I was just elated to see my cousins back again -the last time I saw them was last November, during my thanksgiving party for passing the CPA Board Exam. My cousins Cathy, Andoy, and my kid-o Carl were just as excited as I was.
Carl has been counting countless nights to see
his Kuya Nens. This little kid has been such a source
of strength for me. His innocence has inspired me to
stay as child-like (not childish) as much as possible.
His message last Christmas meant the whole world to
me – “Maski di na lang regalo, si Kuya Nens na lang. (Kahit walang regalo, si Kuya Nens na lang. point: I wasn’t able to go home last Christmas). His my little kid-o, and I, his doting Kuya.
Naman.
Anyway, here’s how our phone call went when our cab hailed a pit stop for a much-needed dinner. (Obet gobbled almost half of the Lechon Manok we ordered.):

Carl (C) : Kuya Nens, magkita na jud ta. (Kuya Nens, magkikita na tayo sa wakas.

Kuya Nens (N): Ayaw sa tulog ha (Huwag ka munang matutulog ha)

C: Oo.

N: Ulan man diri (Ulan man ditto)

C: Pag-payong lang. Miss You Kuya Nens. Love You.

And after eight months of being apart, and countless nights of waiting…Kuya Nens and Zorro, este Caloy, are reunited at last.

Good Night My Girl. Energy Drained. Day Two.

DAY-SCLAIMER

[I]ve been in blog hiatus for almost twenty days now. The hibernation has been God’s collaborative effort to get me back to my reality via a much-needed vacation leave.

Ten days have brought me a lot of output – personal insights, writing-wise, or otherwise. If only I could have vacation leave as a permanent job and get paid [or at least, read] for being laidback, lazy, and real.

Ladies and gentlemen, I now present the result of my seven-day sojourn to my dear Dipolog City and my three-day pit stop at Puerto Princesa, Palawan.

Enjoy.

SA IKALAWANG BUWAN NG PAG-ALALA

March 2nd, 2007 by truesurvivor

nakakatulog na ingay, nakakabalisang katahimikan, umuudlot, pumipilit, panibugho ng pusong umiibig…

sa paglaon ng panahon, natutununan ng pusong magmahal at bumangon sa dating masayang panaginip. ngunit sa ngayon, pinipili nitong magpakasaya sa kalungkutang bugso ng walang pag-asa. sapagkat mahal ko pa siya, hindi ko itatanggi yun…

ngunit bakit ko ba pinipilit makisingit sa damdaming ayaw na sa akin? bakit ba ako umaasa sa naturang wala at sa wala natutunan ang lahat? bakt ba hindi mapintig ng puso ang dapat nitong malaman?

sadyang mapalinlang ang kasakiman ng pag-ibig. masaya ka sa simula, ngunit paglao, luha ang ibubunga ng lahat ng ito. masakit malaman na habang gumiguhit ng oras ang mga pagkakataon, narito pa rin ako sa nakaraang pilit kong binabago.

ako ang nagkamali, ngunit sa mata ng ilan, ako ang tama. bakit ko ba hinayang pakawalan ang taong nagmahal sa akin ng tunay, na ang taong ninais lamang makamit sa malamig na gabing iyon ay maipadama ko sa kanya ang aking ipinagkakaloob ng walang hanggang pag-ibig…

walang hanggang pag-ibig na nagwakas ng saglit magpakailanman… galos na naibatid nito ay panhabang-buhay na uukit ng mga aral sa musmos kong puso…

dalawang buwan na nang naging kami, saksi ang mga diyos ng karagatan at mga binibini ng buwan at gabi sa magikang napadama sa gabing iyon. magika na ngayon ay tila gayuma na ayaw akong pakawalan…

nais ko nang mabuhay na hindi ko na siya naiisip, nais ko nang matahak ang landas na gusto ng Poong Maykapal, nais ko nang mabalik ang dating ako…

mahal ko pa siya, nais ko siyang mayakap at mahagkan muli. ngunit alam ko, hindi na niya ito kayang gawin. habang ako naman, umaasa, nandito, nanaginip ng gising…

siguro dapat ko nang malaman na sadyang laro ang pag-ibig, sugal na palagi akong talo. at habang malalaman ko ang sekreto sa kasiyahang ninanais ko, sana pagtagpuin ng Diyos si ako at ang taong magpapaligaya sa puso kong lagi na laging nasasaktan…

wakas

----

Naisulat ko ito “sa ikalawang buwan ng pag-alaala” pagkatapos magkahiwalay kami ng dating kasintahan. Dito ko naibuhos ang hapdi na naranasan ko sa panahong iyon.
Depressed. Hopeless Romantic. Dakilang Gago. Nais ko lang ipakita na minsan (o sa lahat ng pagkakataon), sa buhay ng isang manunulat, ang luha na galing sa nagdurugong puso ay ang pinakamabisang pluma sa mga kompisyong katulad nito.

INTEGRITY

Column title: Kamunduhang Iñigo
Columnist: Niño Jose B. Gonzales

Numero Uno Espesyal


INTEGRITY.
A nine-letter word with three vowels and six consonants. Pronounced as in-teg’ri-ti, meaning uprightness; wholeness; soundness. Code of Ethics for Professional Accountants in the Philippines describes the word as “not mere honesty but fair dealing and truthfulness. Integrity is dignity and reputation. Integrity connotes who we are and what we are for others. Ikanga, “ayaw kong gawin niyan, nakakawala ng integridad, nakakasira ng reputasyon…” At that, we try our best to protect our integrity, and live a life that is of it.
However in a modern fairy tale twist, integrity has now been played to more than being upright, whole, and sound. It is not merely a word in place for dignity and reputation. It has now become a word synonymous with television ratings.
In the ever-entertaining entertainment world, hundreds upon hundreds of programs have been clamoring to be selected for viewing in your television screen. With the power vested upon the remote control, we, the couch potatoes of this universe, have that sovereignty, that defining freedom to view the programs we desire. Tayo ang hari ng ating telebisyon. Walang makakapigil dito.
So television networks try their best to be the chosen one. They equip themselves with different strategies – advertising plugs, promotional gimmicks, shows and tours. The list goes on. All for the purpose of serving the master that is the television viewer.
Now you ask. Why strive to be numero uno, to be atop of this ratings food chain? Why not settle for being number two and still serve the purpose? In the words of Kevin Costner in Luxury Golf and Travel, "second place just means first loser". Is this the philosophy why networks struggle to be on top?
This sensational controversy has transcended more than a game of numbers and trends. A common Juan or Pedro would find it nakakaaliw, nakakabaliw why networks would battle for mere numbers and trends. It is all too common that networks plug their recognitions and achievements as the leading network to televiewers, amply thanking them as they being part of the victory.
Sometimes exaggerated, often overwhelming.
But there is much story to the percentage and trend. The battle of integrity continues.
According to Philippine Auditing Standards 540, audit sampling is done in a manner that the auditor selects sample items in such a way that the selected item can be expected to be representative of the population. From the samples given, auditors would use the same to assess certain audit risks. Applied to the television ratings, the panel homes we hear in the news represent the Filipino viewing population, either nationwide or regional. With the supposed manipulations at hand, the representative aspect of the survey itself is undermined, leading to a less objective result.
Forgive me for being quite technical.
Also, the survey results are used by advertisers investing in proper advertisements to be aired at the proper program hitting the proper market as much as possible. And if the results were not objective enough, clearly promotional decisions would cause the economic domino effect of lesser sales, opportunity cost, lesser profits and lesser less to be perceived.
The battle of integrity continues.
It is not now about being number one. It is now about who’s telling the truth.
If (emphasize if, meaning the possibility or probability of an event or condition to occur) the allegations were true, integrity is definitely compromised. Bakit mo poprotektahan ang iyong integridad kung ikaw mismo ang dumungis nito? Why waste time denying when you could humble yourself and admit the truth. If the controversies lead weren’t true at all, integrity still is compromised. Bakit ka mamumuhunan nang sandamukal na pawis at pagod para lamang manira ng kapwa tao?
It is all to clear that each network is trying to protect its slogan of truth and honesty while equally bombarding the other with new allegations of mischief and conspiracy. It is amusing to note that this controversy has expanded more than just ratings – from issue of the cable company being a related party to a new scandal over radio ratings. Ano sunod? Blaming Britney Spears for this hysteria?
Crazy.
It is all to clear that neither network is willing to stop this battle. Walang gustong mag-surrender, walang gustong magparaya at tumahimik. Why would they, why should they? Their reputation is at stake here. Higit sa lahat, nakasalalay dito ang pag-suporta ng sambayanang Pilipino sa katotohanan at integridad. Ngunit sino nga ba ang tunay na may hawak nito?
Sa huli, isang katotohanan ang mananaig. Sa huli, iisa lamang ang humahawak ng katotohanan, ang isa pawang maskara lamang ang suot. Sa huli, sana maging isa tayong pamilya na may puso at dangal.
As for now, the battle of integrity continues.
Kung hindi kayo, kung hindi sila, sino ba ang may pakana ng lahat ng ito? Ang cartoon network?

----

Ang lathalang Integrity ay isinulat
ko bilang kolumnista sa the Weekly Sillamian, taong 2007. Ito ay isinulat sa kalagitnaan ng "ratings wars" ng magkalabang istasyon. Pagkatapos ng ilang taon, biglang tumahimik ang 'tila walang hanggang iringan ng mga dalawang higanteng ito. Wonder what happened to the ratings-integrity wars...

AFTER THE MORNING

June 23rd, 2007 by truesurvivor

i wake up every morning, caressing the fabric your lovely shirt adorns.

i love how your scent tickles my sensitive nose, reminding me of last night.

i kill myself with those piercing black eyes, deep, subtle, intensely meaningful.

and the way i gently play with your hair, smittens me of how lucky i am.
—
i patiently wait every minute, wishing those lips would kiss mine again.

saying how much you love me after, grips me with a promise of your return.

for only those arms could softly embrace my always lonely and hoping heart

and your never-ending breath makes me live the afterglow of the sunset sigh.
—-
but now i miss your childish smile, innocently corrupting my senseless mind.

day by day, i remember how you used to sway me off with that naughty charm.

my skin hungers for smooth aftermarks of your lips, petting my innermost trust,

as my hands imitate the way you touch me, intimately fondling my whole.
—-
i’am left alone at night, sitting quietly at the bed we used to share,

my red pillow hugs your borrowed shirt, tightly reminiscing the times we had.

to be continued…


------



After The Morning follows The Morning After, the post about ending a forbidden relationship. Rather than keeping the narrator genderless, this time I choose to give it a gender – a female specimen, that is.
A female because After The Morning was inspired from the marathon stories of my female friend who was recovering from a failed relationship (about the same time I was going through my emotional turmoil, as well). I decided to write the poem thinking it might be “therapeutic” for both of us – two less lonely people in the world (?). Or we were just finding ways to worsen our respective situations.
Either way, I never got to finish the poem. Apparently, my female friend recovered way faster than I did and I was still half-way through the poem. Nawalan na din ako ng gana. Thus, the “to be continued…” part in the last line.
I have edited some words from dot dot dot…(After The Morning’s original name) to fit the atmosphere of The Morning After. Don’t get too critical, though. I don’t consider After The Morning a note-worthy piece. I just found it interesting that a composition written two years ago will be a perfect aftermath of a recent piece.
Sequel precedes prequel. Second before first. The Da Vinci Code, then, Angels and Demons.
All the same, enjoy if you can.

SULAT

July 27th, 2007 by truesurvivor

sa paghiwalay ba ng dalawang pusong minsang nagmahalan, iisa lang ba ang titibok, at ang kabila’y mamatay na? sino ba ang tunay na may sala sa mga naganap? tadhana ba o ang sadyang paglayo ng isa sa pangako ng magpakailanman?
masakit ang magmahal. hindi nito binibilang ang mga naturang sandali na kayo ay magkasama. hindi din nito batid ang mga tampuhan, batian, halikan, pagkamuhi sa isa’t isa. basta nandiyan lang siya - nanatili sa init ng sinumpaang pagmamahalan.

sandali man, isang linggo, dalawang araw, tatlong buwan, o apat na taon, ito’y hahabi sa iyong nakaraan at pilit na mananalaytay sa iyong puso, habang pilit mo itong iniiwasan. ito’y bahagi mo na, isang bahaging hindi na kailanman mawawaglit.

dahil sa pagmamahal, natutunan natin ang kagandahan ng buhay, ang kasakiman nito, at ang pag-asang dulot ng nagwakas na araw. kaya sa bawat sandali na kapiling mo siya, alalahanin mo na lang, na milyon-milyon na ang natapos, hahayain mo pa bang mapabilang kayo sa lista?

pasalamat ka at mayroon nilikha na inaaway ka dahil sa mga kamalian mo. pasalamat ka at nariyan siya sa pinakamalungkot na sandali ng iyong buhay. pasalamat ka at nagmamahal at minamahal ka…

narito ako ngayon, masayang nagmumukmok sa kalungkutan sa kalaliman ng gabi. nag-aantay, nagliliwaliw sa kabalintunaang babalik pa siya sa akin…marahil sa panaginip, ngunit hindi sa mundong minsan naming ginalawan…

--

Isang munting paalala lamang sa mga magkasintahan (pa) ngayon mula sa dating nagmahal. Isinulat halos dalawang taon na ang nakalipas.