SIMPLE QUESTIONS
We were eating dinner at our open terrace. We suddenly heard a moderately loud sound caused by the closing of our screened door. It could not be caused by the wind because the door was opened only when pushed strongly and closes automatically, pulled by spring. Anyway as we heard the sound, the three male helpers quickly responded by running to the place. If a robber planned to enter and suddenly backed out, he could have been apprehended as there were no lights along the dark and crowded alley at the laundry area where he can only exit. What could have caused the opening of the door?
Last night my wife did her laundry as usual, using a washing machine. She went up late in the night to sleep upstairs. Before going up she saw to it that all doors were closed and the lights were turned off except the one at the sala that we leave open every night. On waking up in the morning she discovered that the door and the light at the comfort room of the ground floor was open as well as the door of the adjacent room. I was then still upstairs doing my morning chores. Now, who could have opened the door and the light? The helpers were all staying and sleeping at the quarter outside the house.
It would have been easier to conclude that my sister who died two months ago was making herself felt but my wife and I and also the helpers all didn’t believe in ghost. Furthermore, ghosts are supposed to be spirits, meaning no material parts and were incapable of opening doors and lights. But again who did the questionable acts?
Granting that ghosts are real why would my sister decide to let her be felt only two months after her death?
Was it because my gardener asked if he could have and use the perfumes and other toiletries that she left behind? Was it because the helpers sometimes, while watching the T.V. were using her well cared-for sofa set to the point of carelessly putting their feet over the low-legged table when inadvertently carried away by what they were watching? Or was it because the piano and the cabinet that she gave to her favorite nephew were still there?
It couldn’t be because I tried to rearrange everything inside the house to make it look more decent and welcoming than it never was when she was alive. It couldn’t be because I converted her room into a Biomat clinic and the adjacent terrace was opened to be used as waiting area. It couldn’t be all that because I knew she believed in my orderly taste. Well…
Sunday, March 30, 2008
STRANGE GODS
STRANGE GODS
Don’t Say “Thank You” to anyone,authoritatively advised an old woman. It was during the wake of my sister who died early in the morning.
I knew it was not correct because I learned early in school that it was bad manner not to say thank you when people are offering help or anything like condolences, prayers and monetary assistance. Then I was supposed to light only one candle since only one was dead. No one must do any cleaning or it will rain. We were advised not to cook any crawling vegetable or scratching chicken.
Those, and so many other superstitious practices when someone dies. I cannot just follow blindly. There must be some moral or biblical or scientific reason for all the actions that they were suggesting. I stood by my principles. I did not follow most of the unscientific and corny suggestions. I carefully explained that believing in superstition was a SIN against the first commandment because when we do unorthodox things we are simply believing and following strange gods. The first commandment clearly stated: “Love God above all things. Thou shall not have strange gods before Me”.
I was supposed to throw a garment of the deceased over the roof of the house, put an upside down broom under the downspout, sprinkle salt all over the Church Plaza, all to prevent rain from pouring during the funeral march. But I needed the right explanation and since no one could volunteer, I simply did not follow them. I was also expected to put a little piece of all the food on a big plate for offering before the altar. They say it has been done even during the time of Noah. But I countered that all those offerings were stopped when Jesus Christ came and offered Himself for everybody’s redemption.
Many people still find it easier to follow unreasonably for fear of stimulating the anger of the strange god. I would not very much mind that they were doing even if they didn’t understand at all what they were doing but observing that many of the younger generation, the presumably enlightened ones were also practicing such superstitious beliefs, bothered me so much. Imagine not saying Thank You for the good things done – and without any plausible explanation.
After the Funeral Mass I stood up to express my thanks, in behalf of our family to all who in one way or another offered help and prayer during our time of bereavement. But I went I bit further. I explained that saying thank you for the good things done was never bad as it was thought in school for our children to apply in life. “But if we, parents, aunts and uncles, teachers and baptismal sponsors are the ones showing the irrational practice to our children, what good can we expect from our future generation?” Let us always Love God Above all Things and let us not have strange gods before Him.
My sister was successfully buried. It did not rain and no other member of the family followed (to die) in a period of forty days.
Don’t Say “Thank You” to anyone,authoritatively advised an old woman. It was during the wake of my sister who died early in the morning.
I knew it was not correct because I learned early in school that it was bad manner not to say thank you when people are offering help or anything like condolences, prayers and monetary assistance. Then I was supposed to light only one candle since only one was dead. No one must do any cleaning or it will rain. We were advised not to cook any crawling vegetable or scratching chicken.
Those, and so many other superstitious practices when someone dies. I cannot just follow blindly. There must be some moral or biblical or scientific reason for all the actions that they were suggesting. I stood by my principles. I did not follow most of the unscientific and corny suggestions. I carefully explained that believing in superstition was a SIN against the first commandment because when we do unorthodox things we are simply believing and following strange gods. The first commandment clearly stated: “Love God above all things. Thou shall not have strange gods before Me”.
I was supposed to throw a garment of the deceased over the roof of the house, put an upside down broom under the downspout, sprinkle salt all over the Church Plaza, all to prevent rain from pouring during the funeral march. But I needed the right explanation and since no one could volunteer, I simply did not follow them. I was also expected to put a little piece of all the food on a big plate for offering before the altar. They say it has been done even during the time of Noah. But I countered that all those offerings were stopped when Jesus Christ came and offered Himself for everybody’s redemption.
Many people still find it easier to follow unreasonably for fear of stimulating the anger of the strange god. I would not very much mind that they were doing even if they didn’t understand at all what they were doing but observing that many of the younger generation, the presumably enlightened ones were also practicing such superstitious beliefs, bothered me so much. Imagine not saying Thank You for the good things done – and without any plausible explanation.
After the Funeral Mass I stood up to express my thanks, in behalf of our family to all who in one way or another offered help and prayer during our time of bereavement. But I went I bit further. I explained that saying thank you for the good things done was never bad as it was thought in school for our children to apply in life. “But if we, parents, aunts and uncles, teachers and baptismal sponsors are the ones showing the irrational practice to our children, what good can we expect from our future generation?” Let us always Love God Above all Things and let us not have strange gods before Him.
My sister was successfully buried. It did not rain and no other member of the family followed (to die) in a period of forty days.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
IMPARTING A MESSAGE
IMPARTING A MESSAGE
There are several ways of imparting a message: Through letter writing; through shouting as to a neighbor; through the use of loudspeaker; through specially delivered communication; through the pulpit inside the Church; through the modern Power Point presentation as is commonly used now in different occasions.
The purpose of a message is to let the intended recipient understand clearly what the sender wants to say. Used the proper way, any method of message sending is effective if the intention of the sender is appropriately received by the intended recipient.
Sometimes the sound system is so defective that instead of understanding what is said it results to more disturbance if not outright confusion. More often the acoustic of the place is so defective that you hear nothing but echoes and re-echoes of what is being said. What is worst is when all the above defects are playing a role during the delivery of the speech.
A priest with a baritone voice could easily impart his homily directly from the pulpit. It is clearly heard by a quiet audience. A moderately controlled sound system is more effective to a bigger audience. A Power Point presentation is effective too if it is seen clearly by everyone and if the acoustic is correctly adjusted. More so if what is being presented is not repeated so often to the same audience while other activities are going on.
What almost appeared to be a ‘mortal sin’ is when the officiating priest used the different methods all at the same time possibly with the intention of sending his very important homily across. What if the unconcerned acolyte adjust to the maximum the volume of the loudspeaker at the roof of the Church.
When I attend a Sunday Church Mass I want to clearly understand the readings, the Gospel and the Homily but with my mildly impaired hearing, the defective acoustics of an old church and the overuse of the many modern technologies I often go home unsatisfied that sometimes I’d rather participate in a televised Mass except that I cannot receive communion.
Honestly, in my house I could clearly hear the homily through the very loud trumpet speaker at the roof of the Church except that we could hardly have a good conversation due to its deafening sound. I once heard a Chinese explaining that a house in front or opposite the church is not good. Of course I didn’t believe him but now I am convinced why. But who Catholic cares? The Moslems are also doing that.
There are several ways of imparting a message: Through letter writing; through shouting as to a neighbor; through the use of loudspeaker; through specially delivered communication; through the pulpit inside the Church; through the modern Power Point presentation as is commonly used now in different occasions.
The purpose of a message is to let the intended recipient understand clearly what the sender wants to say. Used the proper way, any method of message sending is effective if the intention of the sender is appropriately received by the intended recipient.
Sometimes the sound system is so defective that instead of understanding what is said it results to more disturbance if not outright confusion. More often the acoustic of the place is so defective that you hear nothing but echoes and re-echoes of what is being said. What is worst is when all the above defects are playing a role during the delivery of the speech.
A priest with a baritone voice could easily impart his homily directly from the pulpit. It is clearly heard by a quiet audience. A moderately controlled sound system is more effective to a bigger audience. A Power Point presentation is effective too if it is seen clearly by everyone and if the acoustic is correctly adjusted. More so if what is being presented is not repeated so often to the same audience while other activities are going on.
What almost appeared to be a ‘mortal sin’ is when the officiating priest used the different methods all at the same time possibly with the intention of sending his very important homily across. What if the unconcerned acolyte adjust to the maximum the volume of the loudspeaker at the roof of the Church.
When I attend a Sunday Church Mass I want to clearly understand the readings, the Gospel and the Homily but with my mildly impaired hearing, the defective acoustics of an old church and the overuse of the many modern technologies I often go home unsatisfied that sometimes I’d rather participate in a televised Mass except that I cannot receive communion.
Honestly, in my house I could clearly hear the homily through the very loud trumpet speaker at the roof of the Church except that we could hardly have a good conversation due to its deafening sound. I once heard a Chinese explaining that a house in front or opposite the church is not good. Of course I didn’t believe him but now I am convinced why. But who Catholic cares? The Moslems are also doing that.
SNEEZNG TO TRAVEL
SNEEZING TO TRAVEL
Sneezing is a simple and common involuntary act of the healthy body to shield foreign microorganism from entering the nostrils and eventually the lungs. It is a protective reaction but superstitious belief in some western countries say that when one sneezes a piece of the soul is thrown away and that is why your seat mates say “God Bless You” to prevent entry of the devil
Instead of “God Bless You” it is more appropriate to say “Good for you” because it means the sneezer’s defense mechanism is still strong enough to drive out invading organisms. Yet, it is one useful body reaction that most of the time brings embarrassment to the sneezer especially during a very formal dinner when everybody has to chorus in saying “God Bless You” with a notable irritation.
I did not give much attention to such an ordinary incident until Bird Flu, SARS, and other communicable diseases became rampant almost globally that travelers has to be thoroughly checked before allowing to fly.
Anyone who sneezes a few times uncontrollably is confined at the quarantine area for a few days.
Being an allergic sneezer, I suddenly got scared to travel for fear of being quarantined for a few days. My fear is doubled by the scare of terrorism that prevents travelers from bringing simple metallic objects such as a nail cutter or a razor blade. How can I ever enjoy traveling without my mini Swiss knife and without sneezing at least seven times during unpredictable moments?
Suffice it to me now to travel extensively through books, magazines and Television shows. That way, I will never be quarantined or be a victim of plain crash, hijacking, kidnapping or terrorism. It is less expensive too. Thanks to my sneezing habit (or is it an ailment?)… I now do Astral Travel in my easy chair. It is safer, more enjoyable and more educational. You only need to know how to protect your connecting cord.
Sneezing is a simple and common involuntary act of the healthy body to shield foreign microorganism from entering the nostrils and eventually the lungs. It is a protective reaction but superstitious belief in some western countries say that when one sneezes a piece of the soul is thrown away and that is why your seat mates say “God Bless You” to prevent entry of the devil
Instead of “God Bless You” it is more appropriate to say “Good for you” because it means the sneezer’s defense mechanism is still strong enough to drive out invading organisms. Yet, it is one useful body reaction that most of the time brings embarrassment to the sneezer especially during a very formal dinner when everybody has to chorus in saying “God Bless You” with a notable irritation.
I did not give much attention to such an ordinary incident until Bird Flu, SARS, and other communicable diseases became rampant almost globally that travelers has to be thoroughly checked before allowing to fly.
Anyone who sneezes a few times uncontrollably is confined at the quarantine area for a few days.
Being an allergic sneezer, I suddenly got scared to travel for fear of being quarantined for a few days. My fear is doubled by the scare of terrorism that prevents travelers from bringing simple metallic objects such as a nail cutter or a razor blade. How can I ever enjoy traveling without my mini Swiss knife and without sneezing at least seven times during unpredictable moments?
Suffice it to me now to travel extensively through books, magazines and Television shows. That way, I will never be quarantined or be a victim of plain crash, hijacking, kidnapping or terrorism. It is less expensive too. Thanks to my sneezing habit (or is it an ailment?)… I now do Astral Travel in my easy chair. It is safer, more enjoyable and more educational. You only need to know how to protect your connecting cord.
Friday, March 28, 2008
WHAT TO WRITE
WHAT TO WRITE
Writing as a hobby is not easy and is therefore not very common. Finding topic to ponder upon and finding the right words to describe what you are writing about is not just like walking along the beach and enjoying the surrounding. But sometimes you will wonder why some people like the columnists and other opinion writers could quickly gather words and arranged them so easily to say many things about anything.
It is not the amount or number of words you know that matters, for even Abraham Lincoln did not use so many words to express his highly appreciated addresses and opinion on almost anything. He played his words so well that even a simple joke or a simple idea could create a kind of picture so big and so powerful that it affects all readers.
Blogging is one interesting way of putting your experiences, plans, ideas, opinions or what have you into writing. It doesn’t matter if no one reads what you write because you are writing not for anyone but actually for yourself. Then you find yourself so absorbed and so carried away that you forget about stresses and ailments. You wonder why you feel so good and so healthy if not so fulfilled or actually younger.
Writing for your blogspot is very similar to gardening. You choose your words the way you also choose your plants. You arrange your plants in groups or in line or in whatever geometric figure that satisfies your ego. Likewise your word arrangements are important only if they first satisfy you before your readers.
The beauty of a garden doesn’t necessarily depend on the aesthetic presentation of the colorful blooms but on how it personally appeals on your taste. So in blogging you record for posterity what you think touches you more everyday.
Whether it is blogging to learn how to write or writing to be able to blog is not important. Both are good for your health especially if you are a senior citizen whose peers, colleagues, friends and companions mostly have gone away without even having a chance to use a cell phone.
I will keep on Writing/Blogging instead of enumerating my pains and loses; instead of taking this pill and that; instead of using a walking stick or ‘riding’ a wheel chair; instead of staying in a nursing home or being confined in a hospital because this hobby is therapeutic, entertaining and rejuvenating.
Writing as a hobby is not easy and is therefore not very common. Finding topic to ponder upon and finding the right words to describe what you are writing about is not just like walking along the beach and enjoying the surrounding. But sometimes you will wonder why some people like the columnists and other opinion writers could quickly gather words and arranged them so easily to say many things about anything.
It is not the amount or number of words you know that matters, for even Abraham Lincoln did not use so many words to express his highly appreciated addresses and opinion on almost anything. He played his words so well that even a simple joke or a simple idea could create a kind of picture so big and so powerful that it affects all readers.
Blogging is one interesting way of putting your experiences, plans, ideas, opinions or what have you into writing. It doesn’t matter if no one reads what you write because you are writing not for anyone but actually for yourself. Then you find yourself so absorbed and so carried away that you forget about stresses and ailments. You wonder why you feel so good and so healthy if not so fulfilled or actually younger.
Writing for your blogspot is very similar to gardening. You choose your words the way you also choose your plants. You arrange your plants in groups or in line or in whatever geometric figure that satisfies your ego. Likewise your word arrangements are important only if they first satisfy you before your readers.
The beauty of a garden doesn’t necessarily depend on the aesthetic presentation of the colorful blooms but on how it personally appeals on your taste. So in blogging you record for posterity what you think touches you more everyday.
Whether it is blogging to learn how to write or writing to be able to blog is not important. Both are good for your health especially if you are a senior citizen whose peers, colleagues, friends and companions mostly have gone away without even having a chance to use a cell phone.
I will keep on Writing/Blogging instead of enumerating my pains and loses; instead of taking this pill and that; instead of using a walking stick or ‘riding’ a wheel chair; instead of staying in a nursing home or being confined in a hospital because this hobby is therapeutic, entertaining and rejuvenating.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
ANIMALITIES
ANIMALITIES
I was tempted to throw a piece of bread with poison. Our neighbor’s dog has been howling scandalously for two nights just – in time with the death of another neighbor. I hardly slept during these nights as the howling dog was almost non stop.
My mother used to associate dog-howling with impending death of someone in the neighborhood but this time a neighbor has been dead already for two days. Dog-howling always deliver ominous event as is always presented on Television and on the movies.
A little investigation revealed that the dog owners spent their Holy Week vacation in Bulacan and the dog was either hungry, lonely or afraid or all of the above asking for help, but not because another death was coming soon.
Barking of dog can mean many things. It could be a signal to the owner that some bad elements like robbers or murderers are just around planning to attack. So beware. It could also mean a welcome greeting to a familiar face or a friend of the owner.
Animals don’t talk but they communicate in very interesting and most of the time, helpful manner. A cat washing its face with its front leg is saying that a visitor is coming. A pig that gathers leaves and branches of plants to a certain corner is announcing that a storm is coming. A rooster crows every hour. Those and many other signals made by animals could be a useful information at times.
It is good to have pets at home but we shall find them more important if we study what they want to tell us in connection with their behavior. Considering that humans are mere animals who can reason out we should be kinder to our animal friends.
I am still amused to think of what happened to a couple who were lunching with us one time. The “tuko” began making its decadent sound to which I joined in by saying he loves her, he loves her not, he loves her, he loves her not and the “tuko” stopped at he loves her not. The woman got mad and had the chance to review the supposed infidelities of her husband that even the lowly lizard is aware off.
I was tempted to throw a piece of bread with poison. Our neighbor’s dog has been howling scandalously for two nights just – in time with the death of another neighbor. I hardly slept during these nights as the howling dog was almost non stop.
My mother used to associate dog-howling with impending death of someone in the neighborhood but this time a neighbor has been dead already for two days. Dog-howling always deliver ominous event as is always presented on Television and on the movies.
A little investigation revealed that the dog owners spent their Holy Week vacation in Bulacan and the dog was either hungry, lonely or afraid or all of the above asking for help, but not because another death was coming soon.
Barking of dog can mean many things. It could be a signal to the owner that some bad elements like robbers or murderers are just around planning to attack. So beware. It could also mean a welcome greeting to a familiar face or a friend of the owner.
Animals don’t talk but they communicate in very interesting and most of the time, helpful manner. A cat washing its face with its front leg is saying that a visitor is coming. A pig that gathers leaves and branches of plants to a certain corner is announcing that a storm is coming. A rooster crows every hour. Those and many other signals made by animals could be a useful information at times.
It is good to have pets at home but we shall find them more important if we study what they want to tell us in connection with their behavior. Considering that humans are mere animals who can reason out we should be kinder to our animal friends.
I am still amused to think of what happened to a couple who were lunching with us one time. The “tuko” began making its decadent sound to which I joined in by saying he loves her, he loves her not, he loves her, he loves her not and the “tuko” stopped at he loves her not. The woman got mad and had the chance to review the supposed infidelities of her husband that even the lowly lizard is aware off.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
MOTHER KNOWS BEST
MOTHER KNOWS BEST
I often disagree with the repeatedly quoted dictum that “Mother Knows Best”. There are mothers who abandon their children, mothers who abort their unborn babies and mothers who kill their own newborns. There are also mothers murdering their own husbands… and they know best???
Of course my approach to the subject is too negative. I am talking about the bad mothers so that I am getting bad results because of my journalistic bad manner. I must look at the brighter side.
There is no brighter side more than my wife, I think, who is a mother to five and a grandmother to another five. After more than three decades observing her, trying to convince myself that she knows best I ended up with still a bit of confusion because I noticed that she talks too much… on waking up, while washing, while eating, while doing anything and yes, even in her sleep. She doesn’t get tired giving instructions and repeatedly mentioning the already monotonous sounding rules.
Many times I threaten to leave her for decisions I found difficult to accept or concur with but most of the time I end up swallowing my pride after realizing that again she shows her best.
President Cory Aquino has been chided for endorsing everything to God through her prayers even during her most trying moments in her presidency and in running her family. But look, even her colon cancer is seemingly the only best thing that can really unite the nation.
Mother knows best – yes, but Mother Nature is doing her worst – sending floods, earthquakes, typhoons, tornadoes and all forms and kinds of calamities where they are not needed. Everyone is wondering, everyone is asking: “Is the end of the world coming soon?”
No, it is not the end of the world. It is when Mother Nature is doing her worst that she is showing she knows best. The world has gone mad and it needs a lot of shaking.
I often disagree with the repeatedly quoted dictum that “Mother Knows Best”. There are mothers who abandon their children, mothers who abort their unborn babies and mothers who kill their own newborns. There are also mothers murdering their own husbands… and they know best???
Of course my approach to the subject is too negative. I am talking about the bad mothers so that I am getting bad results because of my journalistic bad manner. I must look at the brighter side.
There is no brighter side more than my wife, I think, who is a mother to five and a grandmother to another five. After more than three decades observing her, trying to convince myself that she knows best I ended up with still a bit of confusion because I noticed that she talks too much… on waking up, while washing, while eating, while doing anything and yes, even in her sleep. She doesn’t get tired giving instructions and repeatedly mentioning the already monotonous sounding rules.
Many times I threaten to leave her for decisions I found difficult to accept or concur with but most of the time I end up swallowing my pride after realizing that again she shows her best.
President Cory Aquino has been chided for endorsing everything to God through her prayers even during her most trying moments in her presidency and in running her family. But look, even her colon cancer is seemingly the only best thing that can really unite the nation.
Mother knows best – yes, but Mother Nature is doing her worst – sending floods, earthquakes, typhoons, tornadoes and all forms and kinds of calamities where they are not needed. Everyone is wondering, everyone is asking: “Is the end of the world coming soon?”
No, it is not the end of the world. It is when Mother Nature is doing her worst that she is showing she knows best. The world has gone mad and it needs a lot of shaking.
Monday, March 24, 2008
THE SOUND OF FREEDOM
THE SOUND OF FREEDOM
I think freedom also needs some limitations. In the implementation of the freedom of speech, the freedom to shout at the top of one’s voice and to magnify no matter how much the freedom to sing and deliver speeches has been somehow abused.
One Monday morning while eating my breakfast I heard a greatly magnified voice of a religious Pastor coming from the covered court of the Municipal compound as a prelude to the singing of the National Anthem for the Flag Raising ceremony. At the same time, from the Private school at our neighborhood a male voice was loudly reciting the “Panatang Makabayan” just after the Flag ceremony. In time with the two loud sounds was the a bit off-tune singing of the “Ama Namin” by the Parish Priest coming from the Church directly in front of our house.
It regularly happens every Monday morning when the three sectors of society – the Government, The Church and The School are all performing their patriotic and spiritual duties – to the deafness of a big number of people in the community who also need some privacy for their own purpose.
Not long after, the deafening sound of the ambulance siren floated on air though there was no traffic or obstacle along the way. It was only because the ambulance was free to do such abuse. And for that freedom all dogs in the vicinity started barking at the top of their voices followed by the noises made by other disturb animals around.
When all those sounds are temporarily at rest, the more irritating noises coming from the tricycle and their drivers reign freely. Freedom is good but too much of it or simply abusing it is definitely uncalled for. There ought to be a law and there ought to be responsible law-makers to implement it.
At night said sounds are doubly magnified by the sounds of videoke, karaoke and other ‘unoke’ tunes coming from all directions to the detriment of the humble ears of the poor citizens who are merely obeying the law and forcing oneself to appreciate the true meaning of freedom.
After having been bombarded by the execution of such destructive kind of freedom for a long time, one’s hearing finally surrenders and the person is branded as “bingi” (with impaired hearing). And if one’s family name happens to sound something like Aviñante, one is eventually called Binginyante.
Same confusion and negative side effects happen too as a result of the questionable lawfulness or lousy implementation of freedom. Sometimes life could be more enjoyable if freedom is curtailed or at least minimized.
I think freedom also needs some limitations. In the implementation of the freedom of speech, the freedom to shout at the top of one’s voice and to magnify no matter how much the freedom to sing and deliver speeches has been somehow abused.
One Monday morning while eating my breakfast I heard a greatly magnified voice of a religious Pastor coming from the covered court of the Municipal compound as a prelude to the singing of the National Anthem for the Flag Raising ceremony. At the same time, from the Private school at our neighborhood a male voice was loudly reciting the “Panatang Makabayan” just after the Flag ceremony. In time with the two loud sounds was the a bit off-tune singing of the “Ama Namin” by the Parish Priest coming from the Church directly in front of our house.
It regularly happens every Monday morning when the three sectors of society – the Government, The Church and The School are all performing their patriotic and spiritual duties – to the deafness of a big number of people in the community who also need some privacy for their own purpose.
Not long after, the deafening sound of the ambulance siren floated on air though there was no traffic or obstacle along the way. It was only because the ambulance was free to do such abuse. And for that freedom all dogs in the vicinity started barking at the top of their voices followed by the noises made by other disturb animals around.
When all those sounds are temporarily at rest, the more irritating noises coming from the tricycle and their drivers reign freely. Freedom is good but too much of it or simply abusing it is definitely uncalled for. There ought to be a law and there ought to be responsible law-makers to implement it.
At night said sounds are doubly magnified by the sounds of videoke, karaoke and other ‘unoke’ tunes coming from all directions to the detriment of the humble ears of the poor citizens who are merely obeying the law and forcing oneself to appreciate the true meaning of freedom.
After having been bombarded by the execution of such destructive kind of freedom for a long time, one’s hearing finally surrenders and the person is branded as “bingi” (with impaired hearing). And if one’s family name happens to sound something like Aviñante, one is eventually called Binginyante.
Same confusion and negative side effects happen too as a result of the questionable lawfulness or lousy implementation of freedom. Sometimes life could be more enjoyable if freedom is curtailed or at least minimized.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
THE EMPTY TOMB
THE EMPTY TOMB
Christ has risen and the first solid proof is the empty tomb. He resurrected from the dead. All hopes have possibility of being achieve in due time. He redeemed all of us. We are now saved but saving us is not a guarantee that we are saved for eternity. We are still responsible for everything that we think and do and say.
Christ will not repeat the process of salvation. He has given enough already of the teaching, of the healing, and of the suffering. He loves us so much, that is why He gave us free will and now the card is on us to play the game rightfully.
Salvation is a gambling activity. If after all that Christ has done we stay as sinners as before, we shall never gain heaven. We must know how to play the game for us to win.
The empty tomb is not actually empty for it is full of graces reserved for us to whom Jesus Christ offered His life. There is so much room for improvement, so much space for goodness, so much area for us to share our talent, time and treasure, so much promise for us mortal to attain heaven.
Problems are now all around us and we have all the reasons to be part of the solution. It is not enough to complain or to be unconcerned. Let us all do our part. Let us allow all our weaknesses and frailties to die and be buried among the dead. Then, like Jesus let us allow them to resurrect with new meaning, new strength, and new promise. That way, the empty tomb will not remain empty but shall be the source of new dynamic ideas beneficial to each and everyone.
The seemingly empty tomb is the source of everything good. It is where the light comes to overcome the darkness. It is the dividing line between death and new life or new dimension of existence which is definitely an improvement of what we are now experiencing.
It is regrettable that we all failed to give tribute to the empty tomb during the celebration of the Holy Week. It is the center of it all. It is the very point where everything else emanates because it is the place where for three days Jesus laid peacefully and conquered death. The empty tomb is indeed the origin of life.
Christ has risen and the first solid proof is the empty tomb. He resurrected from the dead. All hopes have possibility of being achieve in due time. He redeemed all of us. We are now saved but saving us is not a guarantee that we are saved for eternity. We are still responsible for everything that we think and do and say.
Christ will not repeat the process of salvation. He has given enough already of the teaching, of the healing, and of the suffering. He loves us so much, that is why He gave us free will and now the card is on us to play the game rightfully.
Salvation is a gambling activity. If after all that Christ has done we stay as sinners as before, we shall never gain heaven. We must know how to play the game for us to win.
The empty tomb is not actually empty for it is full of graces reserved for us to whom Jesus Christ offered His life. There is so much room for improvement, so much space for goodness, so much area for us to share our talent, time and treasure, so much promise for us mortal to attain heaven.
Problems are now all around us and we have all the reasons to be part of the solution. It is not enough to complain or to be unconcerned. Let us all do our part. Let us allow all our weaknesses and frailties to die and be buried among the dead. Then, like Jesus let us allow them to resurrect with new meaning, new strength, and new promise. That way, the empty tomb will not remain empty but shall be the source of new dynamic ideas beneficial to each and everyone.
The seemingly empty tomb is the source of everything good. It is where the light comes to overcome the darkness. It is the dividing line between death and new life or new dimension of existence which is definitely an improvement of what we are now experiencing.
It is regrettable that we all failed to give tribute to the empty tomb during the celebration of the Holy Week. It is the center of it all. It is the very point where everything else emanates because it is the place where for three days Jesus laid peacefully and conquered death. The empty tomb is indeed the origin of life.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
KILLING THE TERMINALLY ILL
KILLING THE TERMINALLY ILL
According the Principle of Mentalism, the whole world is but a mental creation of God. God created us in His image with the same powerful mind that can create or destroy.
Whatever plan we make always starts from the mind and whatever the mind architects, the mind builds before the physical reality is achieved.
What we think becomes. When we think always of illness or disease going to affect us, it doesn’t take a long time for this illness to become a reality. Some illness recedes or progresses according to how we think about it.
When a person is diagnosed with cancer, immediately our minds create a destructive idea thinking that cancer is supposed to destroy especially if the diagnosis was done with the use of sophisticated machines. More so if the doctor‘s verdict is ‘stage IV’, metastatic and therefore terminal.
The word terminal is the killer term added to the already murderous world cancer. Now, aside from the person concerned all the other people close to the patient, the friends, the relatives and everybody begin to establish a destructive pattern of mentality that they all project to the patient. Those destructive vibrations, so projected, weaken the defense mechanism of the person sick enough to fight and accepts the 'terminality' faster.
With a whole community collectively projecting seriousness and gravity to the illness, no amount of expensive medications can contradict or prevent the disease from its destructive process.
In cases like this, all kinds of treatment, traditional and non- traditional, spiritual and herbal are being tried but at the same time all minds are only sending a skeptical hope for recovery. More destructive vibrations are being projected. The sick person gets sicker and sicker not to mention that every new medication that the person receives also bring with it new side effects that will only need more and more new medications.
In Russia, many cancer patients are isolated. They are not allowed to receive visitors. Most of the time diagnosis is also kept in secret. This prevents other people from sending or projecting negative and destructive vibrations to the already sick patient.
In many cases only counseling and Hypnotherapy are used to bring back the health of the patient successfully. What we think becomes. If a battalion of people projects death, the patient dies, and quickly.
According the Principle of Mentalism, the whole world is but a mental creation of God. God created us in His image with the same powerful mind that can create or destroy.
Whatever plan we make always starts from the mind and whatever the mind architects, the mind builds before the physical reality is achieved.
What we think becomes. When we think always of illness or disease going to affect us, it doesn’t take a long time for this illness to become a reality. Some illness recedes or progresses according to how we think about it.
When a person is diagnosed with cancer, immediately our minds create a destructive idea thinking that cancer is supposed to destroy especially if the diagnosis was done with the use of sophisticated machines. More so if the doctor‘s verdict is ‘stage IV’, metastatic and therefore terminal.
The word terminal is the killer term added to the already murderous world cancer. Now, aside from the person concerned all the other people close to the patient, the friends, the relatives and everybody begin to establish a destructive pattern of mentality that they all project to the patient. Those destructive vibrations, so projected, weaken the defense mechanism of the person sick enough to fight and accepts the 'terminality' faster.
With a whole community collectively projecting seriousness and gravity to the illness, no amount of expensive medications can contradict or prevent the disease from its destructive process.
In cases like this, all kinds of treatment, traditional and non- traditional, spiritual and herbal are being tried but at the same time all minds are only sending a skeptical hope for recovery. More destructive vibrations are being projected. The sick person gets sicker and sicker not to mention that every new medication that the person receives also bring with it new side effects that will only need more and more new medications.
In Russia, many cancer patients are isolated. They are not allowed to receive visitors. Most of the time diagnosis is also kept in secret. This prevents other people from sending or projecting negative and destructive vibrations to the already sick patient.
In many cases only counseling and Hypnotherapy are used to bring back the health of the patient successfully. What we think becomes. If a battalion of people projects death, the patient dies, and quickly.
FAMILY REUNION
FAMILY REUNION
Reunion especially in a big family is always given importance and anticipated by the members of the family. Now that the world is border less, members of the family easily got separated from each other as sons and daughters are migrating or just simply working in other countries. Separation has many side effects and that is why reunion is more relevant and necessary for the clan to keep intact.
But organizing a reunion especially in situation when everybody is everywhere attending to their different works is almost a Herculean job. I appreciate families who can organize an annual reunion.
Somehow it becomes a challenge to every member and that makes it more interesting. During a reunion one gets acquainted to a relative that has been away for a long time. It is also fun to observe different members showing different peculiarities resulting into endless topics for conversation.
Our branch on the father side was just a small group because we don’t have cousins as my father’s sisters and brothers either did not marry or didn’t have children. We were ten siblings but two died during infancy, two became old maids and one died a bachelor. Now I am the only one alive out of the original ten. I have five children, four are married and soon my grandchildren shall be six already.
My sons already migrated to Australia while one daughter moved to Canada. Soon we shall be separated and far away from each other but I am not complaining. This is a bitter pill that I am supposed to swallow.
Last week I was invited to the reunion of one branch of my grandfather’s family. They were very happy although some also didn’t attend possibly due to some very pressing problems or some minor misunderstandings that always happen in every clan.
It was a successful reunion and they have been doing this for several years. I was always invited because they consider me the resource person in as far as the clan was concerned. It was only ironic that our family which was the smallest and supposed to be the easiest to manage was never as active.
Reunion especially in a big family is always given importance and anticipated by the members of the family. Now that the world is border less, members of the family easily got separated from each other as sons and daughters are migrating or just simply working in other countries. Separation has many side effects and that is why reunion is more relevant and necessary for the clan to keep intact.
But organizing a reunion especially in situation when everybody is everywhere attending to their different works is almost a Herculean job. I appreciate families who can organize an annual reunion.
Somehow it becomes a challenge to every member and that makes it more interesting. During a reunion one gets acquainted to a relative that has been away for a long time. It is also fun to observe different members showing different peculiarities resulting into endless topics for conversation.
Our branch on the father side was just a small group because we don’t have cousins as my father’s sisters and brothers either did not marry or didn’t have children. We were ten siblings but two died during infancy, two became old maids and one died a bachelor. Now I am the only one alive out of the original ten. I have five children, four are married and soon my grandchildren shall be six already.
My sons already migrated to Australia while one daughter moved to Canada. Soon we shall be separated and far away from each other but I am not complaining. This is a bitter pill that I am supposed to swallow.
Last week I was invited to the reunion of one branch of my grandfather’s family. They were very happy although some also didn’t attend possibly due to some very pressing problems or some minor misunderstandings that always happen in every clan.
It was a successful reunion and they have been doing this for several years. I was always invited because they consider me the resource person in as far as the clan was concerned. It was only ironic that our family which was the smallest and supposed to be the easiest to manage was never as active.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
SHOULDER-TO-CRY-ON
SHOULDER-TO-CRY-ON
While chatting at the internet I always offer myself as a shoulder-to-cry-on to those chatters who have problems that they cannot tell their parents, teachers, love ones or friends. The offer somehow sounded so magnanimous and so inviting that immediately it actually became so popular in different chat windows.
One time while I was offering some practical suggestions to a psychotic Indian national, my own chat room was opened by a young boy from Sweden who was complaining because his parents couldn’t understand his “very ordinary escapades”.
The Indian national was so paranoid. He thought that gods and goddesses were chasing him because of his immoral sexual activities. I was talking to them alternately when a friend on my IRC account who was chatting from Sydney, Australia came up feeling so sad and suicidal because his girlfriend requested for a break up. I have to give him more attention while occasionally giving comments and opinions to both the Indian and t he Swedish chatters.
Every thing was going on smoothly. I felt so elated that I was handling the three cases effectively. It was truly enjoyable to share stocked knowledge to people who really need them.
At that point I received a text message from Tacloban City: “give me one reason to dance as I am crying without reason”. To me it was quite a challenging request. I texted back: “You are a unique person. Nobody else in this world is exactly like you and you should dance to that!” He replied: Thanks kuya, your message saved me.
The suicidal from Sydney, Australia was already feeling good when he realized that it was not the end of the world. He was quickly enlightened by my explanation that, “when everything else is lost, the future still remains and the future has everything. It is for you to grab the best”.
The name of the Swedish boy was high lighted but it was his mother on line asking me: “What did you tell my son? He suddenly became a saint, asking forgiveness while kissing me so lovingly as he never did before. You are simply so good…thank you Sir“.
The Indian national was already beginning to calm down when my land line rang. A caller from Marikina City was crying, just crying …until my shoulders were figuratively soiled. It all happened in two hours of chatting in the internet.
A few days later, the telephone rang and from the other end I heard the voice of the former suicidal lover who came all the way from Sydney, Australia to personally thank me that he is still alive and with his girlfriend.
While chatting at the internet I always offer myself as a shoulder-to-cry-on to those chatters who have problems that they cannot tell their parents, teachers, love ones or friends. The offer somehow sounded so magnanimous and so inviting that immediately it actually became so popular in different chat windows.
One time while I was offering some practical suggestions to a psychotic Indian national, my own chat room was opened by a young boy from Sweden who was complaining because his parents couldn’t understand his “very ordinary escapades”.
The Indian national was so paranoid. He thought that gods and goddesses were chasing him because of his immoral sexual activities. I was talking to them alternately when a friend on my IRC account who was chatting from Sydney, Australia came up feeling so sad and suicidal because his girlfriend requested for a break up. I have to give him more attention while occasionally giving comments and opinions to both the Indian and t he Swedish chatters.
Every thing was going on smoothly. I felt so elated that I was handling the three cases effectively. It was truly enjoyable to share stocked knowledge to people who really need them.
At that point I received a text message from Tacloban City: “give me one reason to dance as I am crying without reason”. To me it was quite a challenging request. I texted back: “You are a unique person. Nobody else in this world is exactly like you and you should dance to that!” He replied: Thanks kuya, your message saved me.
The suicidal from Sydney, Australia was already feeling good when he realized that it was not the end of the world. He was quickly enlightened by my explanation that, “when everything else is lost, the future still remains and the future has everything. It is for you to grab the best”.
The name of the Swedish boy was high lighted but it was his mother on line asking me: “What did you tell my son? He suddenly became a saint, asking forgiveness while kissing me so lovingly as he never did before. You are simply so good…thank you Sir“.
The Indian national was already beginning to calm down when my land line rang. A caller from Marikina City was crying, just crying …until my shoulders were figuratively soiled. It all happened in two hours of chatting in the internet.
A few days later, the telephone rang and from the other end I heard the voice of the former suicidal lover who came all the way from Sydney, Australia to personally thank me that he is still alive and with his girlfriend.
Monday, March 17, 2008
ACT OF MERCY
ACT OF MERCY
It is not very easy for a senior citizen who wants to be useful to find something worthy of doing. Oftentimes, joining conversations with other senior citizens, results only to exchange of ailments and other depressing problems.
Joining a youth group most of the time only magnifies and widens the reality of generation gap. Keeping alone by oneself is even more depressing if not really agonizing. It helps me to while away my moments by writing something in the computer or surfs for some important topics to be printed later. Sometimes I exchange ideas through the internet or have conference with my children abroad. I also enter my thoughts into my blogspot and make friends with the Friendster user. I have counseling clients from as far as Tacloban, Sweden, Sydney and India.
I found out that doing acts of mercy is most fruitful. I visit other lonely, isolated and semi-abandoned seniors. By just listening to their often repeated complaints and nostalgic recollection of their bygone days is enough to make them feel alive and forget their ailments for a while.
A mother whose children are all away while she is living alone with the maids in a big house is pathetic. Sometimes she is victimized by sweet-talking agents of this and that product. One still physically active male is pitifully affected by all the negative views he is seeing and experiencing around him that sometimes he wants t o send a letter to the Holy Pope to complain about using “ginoo” in the tagalog version of Hail Mary.
A rich accountant with a very serious lung problem wishes to live up to 95 just to keep company with his young even if abusive maids.
The constant request of one stroke victim is very fulfilling on my side because I see how refresh he feels after airing to me his ideas and opinions.
Caressing a lamenting grandmother whose grandson is not attending school but spending all the money sent by his mother from abroad is not a very pleasant act but very encouraging if not actually rejuvenating.
There is now a wild rumor saying that some groups are kidnapping kids so they can sell their body organs to some hospitals. I jokingly say: “Why doesn’t this group kidnap elders either?” They can still make use of the senior citizen’s thick skin that they can transform into a bullet proof jacket.
Visiting different seniors with their own weird behavior and unusual problems gives me a great sense of achievement at the end of the day.
It is not very easy for a senior citizen who wants to be useful to find something worthy of doing. Oftentimes, joining conversations with other senior citizens, results only to exchange of ailments and other depressing problems.
Joining a youth group most of the time only magnifies and widens the reality of generation gap. Keeping alone by oneself is even more depressing if not really agonizing. It helps me to while away my moments by writing something in the computer or surfs for some important topics to be printed later. Sometimes I exchange ideas through the internet or have conference with my children abroad. I also enter my thoughts into my blogspot and make friends with the Friendster user. I have counseling clients from as far as Tacloban, Sweden, Sydney and India.
I found out that doing acts of mercy is most fruitful. I visit other lonely, isolated and semi-abandoned seniors. By just listening to their often repeated complaints and nostalgic recollection of their bygone days is enough to make them feel alive and forget their ailments for a while.
A mother whose children are all away while she is living alone with the maids in a big house is pathetic. Sometimes she is victimized by sweet-talking agents of this and that product. One still physically active male is pitifully affected by all the negative views he is seeing and experiencing around him that sometimes he wants t o send a letter to the Holy Pope to complain about using “ginoo” in the tagalog version of Hail Mary.
A rich accountant with a very serious lung problem wishes to live up to 95 just to keep company with his young even if abusive maids.
The constant request of one stroke victim is very fulfilling on my side because I see how refresh he feels after airing to me his ideas and opinions.
Caressing a lamenting grandmother whose grandson is not attending school but spending all the money sent by his mother from abroad is not a very pleasant act but very encouraging if not actually rejuvenating.
There is now a wild rumor saying that some groups are kidnapping kids so they can sell their body organs to some hospitals. I jokingly say: “Why doesn’t this group kidnap elders either?” They can still make use of the senior citizen’s thick skin that they can transform into a bullet proof jacket.
Visiting different seniors with their own weird behavior and unusual problems gives me a great sense of achievement at the end of the day.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
SEQUEL TO DEATH OF AN OLD LADY
SEQUEL TO DEATH OF AN OLD LADY
August 11, 2002
During the preparation of the Old Lady’s dead body all her nephews and nieces on her first husband were in full assistance, obviously sincere and genuinely concerned. A daughter of her second cousin offered the burial dress that she anticipated and reserved for the occasion a long time ago. She was laid in a greatly discounted modest coffin. Most of her previous servants and helpers were present to give their helping hands. Unfortunately most of t he blood relatives were conspicuously absent except for one nephew who appeared during the mass and joined the funeral procession.
Her daughter, together with a son arrived on the fourth day of the wake, haggard and deeply affected. She was properly oriented on the circumstances that took place but was completely stressed by the tragic death of her mother whose dream to see the release of her son from detention did not materialize.
After the ninth day of prayers for the Old Lady her son was brought back to the provincial jail with very uncertain fate. The daughter shall stay for two weeks to settle everything. How she would untangle the confusing knots of problems is certainly a Herculean job.
The Bank Manager offered an option to redeem the already foreclosed house. He suggested that it be re-loaned to another bank until she is able to save enough money to redeem it or sell it herself. The other option offered by another bank official was to sell the property outright on condition that the garage, with a room over it, is retained in preparation for the possible release of the detained son.
Their cousins, who before death of the lady were wilting to settle the case amicably, were now ominously quiet after sharing a donation of fifteen thousand pesos for the funeral expenses.
In a few days the Old Lady’s daughter and her son are going back to America to leave behind a problem that probably needs a Solomonic solution. What will happen next to this tragic story is everybody’s guess but everyone could learn a lesson or two from the unhappy incident.
Human kindness is not enough to guarantee a secured happy future as this Old Lady learned too late. She was too kind and too trusting to a fault. It eventually led her to a series of misfortunes.
A second glory in marital life is not easy to attain. Cautious and thorough evaluation of events and prevailing circumstances should be highly considered before indulging in second marriage.
A wrong perception of love and a misguided method of child rearing could be disastrous as often proven by events that generally lead to tragedy.
Murphy’s Law is a reality: “Worst things can happen at the worst possible time”.
Looking closely at the Old Lady’s daughter I could feel the depth of her sorrow, the magnitude of her emotional pain and the uncertainty of her own future but I also noted that she was not very kin about her spirituality. She seems carefree even about the minimum requirements asked of every Roman Catholic follower. Her son wasn’t much different. He claimed not to belong to any religious organization or sect though he is not an atheist.
The series of unhappy experiences of the Old Lady’s daughter possibly dampened her religiosity. She admitted to be a devout Catholic during her younger days but like her mother she gradually got cold to religious rituals probably because her petitions during her prayers were not totally granted and she felt ignored by God . Nothing could be more terrible than a repetition of another tragic story that only God’s Mercy could prevent.
NOTE: The son of the Old Lady was eventually released and cared for by the relatives of his father. But later he got sick and eventually died. Later the second wife of his uncle who sued him for murder also died of a ling erring illness. Now they are all in the next dimension of existence: The Brother of the Old Lady who was allegedly murdered (the victim) by his Son (the suspect) as (“witnessed”) by the second wife. I hope that God would forgive them all and accept them in His bosom.
August 11, 2002
During the preparation of the Old Lady’s dead body all her nephews and nieces on her first husband were in full assistance, obviously sincere and genuinely concerned. A daughter of her second cousin offered the burial dress that she anticipated and reserved for the occasion a long time ago. She was laid in a greatly discounted modest coffin. Most of her previous servants and helpers were present to give their helping hands. Unfortunately most of t he blood relatives were conspicuously absent except for one nephew who appeared during the mass and joined the funeral procession.
Her daughter, together with a son arrived on the fourth day of the wake, haggard and deeply affected. She was properly oriented on the circumstances that took place but was completely stressed by the tragic death of her mother whose dream to see the release of her son from detention did not materialize.
After the ninth day of prayers for the Old Lady her son was brought back to the provincial jail with very uncertain fate. The daughter shall stay for two weeks to settle everything. How she would untangle the confusing knots of problems is certainly a Herculean job.
The Bank Manager offered an option to redeem the already foreclosed house. He suggested that it be re-loaned to another bank until she is able to save enough money to redeem it or sell it herself. The other option offered by another bank official was to sell the property outright on condition that the garage, with a room over it, is retained in preparation for the possible release of the detained son.
Their cousins, who before death of the lady were wilting to settle the case amicably, were now ominously quiet after sharing a donation of fifteen thousand pesos for the funeral expenses.
In a few days the Old Lady’s daughter and her son are going back to America to leave behind a problem that probably needs a Solomonic solution. What will happen next to this tragic story is everybody’s guess but everyone could learn a lesson or two from the unhappy incident.
Human kindness is not enough to guarantee a secured happy future as this Old Lady learned too late. She was too kind and too trusting to a fault. It eventually led her to a series of misfortunes.
A second glory in marital life is not easy to attain. Cautious and thorough evaluation of events and prevailing circumstances should be highly considered before indulging in second marriage.
A wrong perception of love and a misguided method of child rearing could be disastrous as often proven by events that generally lead to tragedy.
Murphy’s Law is a reality: “Worst things can happen at the worst possible time”.
Looking closely at the Old Lady’s daughter I could feel the depth of her sorrow, the magnitude of her emotional pain and the uncertainty of her own future but I also noted that she was not very kin about her spirituality. She seems carefree even about the minimum requirements asked of every Roman Catholic follower. Her son wasn’t much different. He claimed not to belong to any religious organization or sect though he is not an atheist.
The series of unhappy experiences of the Old Lady’s daughter possibly dampened her religiosity. She admitted to be a devout Catholic during her younger days but like her mother she gradually got cold to religious rituals probably because her petitions during her prayers were not totally granted and she felt ignored by God . Nothing could be more terrible than a repetition of another tragic story that only God’s Mercy could prevent.
NOTE: The son of the Old Lady was eventually released and cared for by the relatives of his father. But later he got sick and eventually died. Later the second wife of his uncle who sued him for murder also died of a ling erring illness. Now they are all in the next dimension of existence: The Brother of the Old Lady who was allegedly murdered (the victim) by his Son (the suspect) as (“witnessed”) by the second wife. I hope that God would forgive them all and accept them in His bosom.
DEATH OF AN OLD LADY
DEATH OF AN OLD LADY
July 20, 2002
An old lady is dying, which is not unusual. She has a son and a daughter on her first marriage. She is twice widowed, which again is not unusual. What is quite unusual is t ht she is surrounded around her deathbed in the hospital by people not related to her.
Her daughter is in the United States of America but cannot yet come home as her passport has expired. Her son is detained at the provincial jail with a murder case over his head for supposedly murdering his uncle as alleged by his cousins.
All three of t he dying lady’s brother died earlier as well as her second husband. None of her true nephews and nieces has paid her a visit. All her sisters-in-law are sickly too. But her nieces and nephews with her first husband are supporting her fully together with a few close relatives.
This lady who is now in the brim of death used to belonged to a very influential and popular family in the community. Their big mansion, inherited from her great grandfather who has been Gobernadorcillo for several terms, was a venue for many political, social and even religious events. It was where many evacuees, including Americans, temporarily stayed during the breakout of the Japanese Occupation. But its historical value went with it when it was demolished, as it could no longer be maintained.
The comatose old lady, during her younger days at the height of her popularity was beautiful, kind, hospitable, helpful and very accommodating.
She seemed to possess all the good character traits. When she was widowed at age 23, many well known and handsome suitors offered her marriage in spite of her having a son and a daughter but she rejected them all in deference to their father whom she loved so much. She could have enjoyed a lie of luxury and fame.
She was one of the first few who moved to Manila to monitor the studies of her son and daughter, when moving to Manila wasn’t yet common practice. Still young and inexperienced she met uncommon challenges in the jungle of the unkind city.
The old ancestral mansion was left in the province since all her brothers were also in t he big city attending to their own jobs and families. She rented an apartment, admitted boarders and bed spacers, even put up a small eatery to support the studies and needs of her kids. The ancestral mansion in the province became the temporary abode of several families and transient boarders from other towns.
Moving to Manila is not always a promising venture as this lady discovered soon enough although going back to the province was not a good alternative either. She found herself in a limbo of uncertainties so she kept on trying her hands on different experiments to find way to earn money that led her into meeting people who didn’t teach her any better to improve her living condition. Through them they learned the intricacies of hulugan, paluwagan and even the temporary used of bouncing checks as well as the art of telling a lie until she found herself falling in a deep bottomless pit.
Frustration, disappointment and possibly extreme loneliness tempted her to marry a Law reviewer, one of her boarders. Her son simply couldn’t accept her decision. He stowed away and got acquainted with happy –go-lucky youngsters who, like him, have their own personal problems to drown. He became a drunkard while his sister also got confused like her mother. Even their religiosity was greatly affected. Praying for miracles that did not materialize brought them far from the Church.
They went home to the province to the now dilapidated ancestral mansion. This dying lady started a new business but previous loans were never completely settled until even her inherited properties were sold one by one and she found herself living a life of misery and poverty. When her daughter was employed with the Philippine Airlines she could have enjoyed the privileges offered to parents but she could not leave her husband and her son together just to avoid any possible friction that she feared could be catastrophic. Her husband who never passed the Bar examination, instead of helping her, turned out to be an added burden until his death when she finally discovered that he had four children with another woman. Her son never completely recovered from his vice that he learned to love as a soothing substitute to a broken life. He became a drug user, sometimes too unreasonable and too unbearable, only his mother can really love him. And his mother, to compensate for her unacceptable decision when she married the second time, spoiled her already neurotic son. He was totally misunderstood by his relatives and you cannot blame them for he turned too irresponsible, carefree, and immature while his mother continue working night and day to hold on to her native candy business that hardly support their ordinary needs.
The younger brother of this dying lady got fed up with his nephew who turned drug user. Misunderstanding widens until one time while this dying lady was sick and the fed-up uncle failed to visit her, the drug-user nephew drowned himself with beer, went to his uncle to confront him why he wasn’t visiting his sick sister. The uncle who possibly thought that his nephew was going to attack him had heart attack and died.
The drug user was sued for murder by his aunt, the second wife of his uncle who died of heart attach. That is why he is detained at the provincial jail. In jail he never experienced eating the kind of food offered in prison as his mother tried all means just to see to it that her son was “feeling at home”. After three years in detention, the children of the uncle who died were already willing to forgive their cousin under certain conditions. It was at this point that the lady had stroke that quickly led to coma. The stress and excitement of her sons impending release from jail weakened her.
As I am writing this, the lady is in a very critical condition. She is kept alive by life supports such as intravenous fluids with medications, oxygen, suction machine, feeding tube, etc.,hoping that her daughter who is abroad would see her alive, Her son was allowed to visit her a few days ago. When she dies her house shall be taken over by the local bank as it has been foreclosed a long time ago. She was just allowed to stay there for humanitarian reason.
She is surrounded by people not her relatives. The priest has given her the extreme unction or Sacrament of Grace. She is breathing faintly, her eyes are hallowed, her temples are sunken and her nose is pinched, the Hippocratic facie that signals impending death. Why could a lady known to be so kind and so helpful and so accommodating be dying this way??? But we are not to question God’s wisdom.
NOTE: She died at dawn of July 21, 2002. Both her daughter and son whom she so much loved were not on her side. None of her blood relatives were around, but God in His greatness would give His Mercy, as she too deserves peace in the Kingdom of the Lord.
July 20, 2002
An old lady is dying, which is not unusual. She has a son and a daughter on her first marriage. She is twice widowed, which again is not unusual. What is quite unusual is t ht she is surrounded around her deathbed in the hospital by people not related to her.
Her daughter is in the United States of America but cannot yet come home as her passport has expired. Her son is detained at the provincial jail with a murder case over his head for supposedly murdering his uncle as alleged by his cousins.
All three of t he dying lady’s brother died earlier as well as her second husband. None of her true nephews and nieces has paid her a visit. All her sisters-in-law are sickly too. But her nieces and nephews with her first husband are supporting her fully together with a few close relatives.
This lady who is now in the brim of death used to belonged to a very influential and popular family in the community. Their big mansion, inherited from her great grandfather who has been Gobernadorcillo for several terms, was a venue for many political, social and even religious events. It was where many evacuees, including Americans, temporarily stayed during the breakout of the Japanese Occupation. But its historical value went with it when it was demolished, as it could no longer be maintained.
The comatose old lady, during her younger days at the height of her popularity was beautiful, kind, hospitable, helpful and very accommodating.
She seemed to possess all the good character traits. When she was widowed at age 23, many well known and handsome suitors offered her marriage in spite of her having a son and a daughter but she rejected them all in deference to their father whom she loved so much. She could have enjoyed a lie of luxury and fame.
She was one of the first few who moved to Manila to monitor the studies of her son and daughter, when moving to Manila wasn’t yet common practice. Still young and inexperienced she met uncommon challenges in the jungle of the unkind city.
The old ancestral mansion was left in the province since all her brothers were also in t he big city attending to their own jobs and families. She rented an apartment, admitted boarders and bed spacers, even put up a small eatery to support the studies and needs of her kids. The ancestral mansion in the province became the temporary abode of several families and transient boarders from other towns.
Moving to Manila is not always a promising venture as this lady discovered soon enough although going back to the province was not a good alternative either. She found herself in a limbo of uncertainties so she kept on trying her hands on different experiments to find way to earn money that led her into meeting people who didn’t teach her any better to improve her living condition. Through them they learned the intricacies of hulugan, paluwagan and even the temporary used of bouncing checks as well as the art of telling a lie until she found herself falling in a deep bottomless pit.
Frustration, disappointment and possibly extreme loneliness tempted her to marry a Law reviewer, one of her boarders. Her son simply couldn’t accept her decision. He stowed away and got acquainted with happy –go-lucky youngsters who, like him, have their own personal problems to drown. He became a drunkard while his sister also got confused like her mother. Even their religiosity was greatly affected. Praying for miracles that did not materialize brought them far from the Church.
They went home to the province to the now dilapidated ancestral mansion. This dying lady started a new business but previous loans were never completely settled until even her inherited properties were sold one by one and she found herself living a life of misery and poverty. When her daughter was employed with the Philippine Airlines she could have enjoyed the privileges offered to parents but she could not leave her husband and her son together just to avoid any possible friction that she feared could be catastrophic. Her husband who never passed the Bar examination, instead of helping her, turned out to be an added burden until his death when she finally discovered that he had four children with another woman. Her son never completely recovered from his vice that he learned to love as a soothing substitute to a broken life. He became a drug user, sometimes too unreasonable and too unbearable, only his mother can really love him. And his mother, to compensate for her unacceptable decision when she married the second time, spoiled her already neurotic son. He was totally misunderstood by his relatives and you cannot blame them for he turned too irresponsible, carefree, and immature while his mother continue working night and day to hold on to her native candy business that hardly support their ordinary needs.
The younger brother of this dying lady got fed up with his nephew who turned drug user. Misunderstanding widens until one time while this dying lady was sick and the fed-up uncle failed to visit her, the drug-user nephew drowned himself with beer, went to his uncle to confront him why he wasn’t visiting his sick sister. The uncle who possibly thought that his nephew was going to attack him had heart attack and died.
The drug user was sued for murder by his aunt, the second wife of his uncle who died of heart attach. That is why he is detained at the provincial jail. In jail he never experienced eating the kind of food offered in prison as his mother tried all means just to see to it that her son was “feeling at home”. After three years in detention, the children of the uncle who died were already willing to forgive their cousin under certain conditions. It was at this point that the lady had stroke that quickly led to coma. The stress and excitement of her sons impending release from jail weakened her.
As I am writing this, the lady is in a very critical condition. She is kept alive by life supports such as intravenous fluids with medications, oxygen, suction machine, feeding tube, etc.,hoping that her daughter who is abroad would see her alive, Her son was allowed to visit her a few days ago. When she dies her house shall be taken over by the local bank as it has been foreclosed a long time ago. She was just allowed to stay there for humanitarian reason.
She is surrounded by people not her relatives. The priest has given her the extreme unction or Sacrament of Grace. She is breathing faintly, her eyes are hallowed, her temples are sunken and her nose is pinched, the Hippocratic facie that signals impending death. Why could a lady known to be so kind and so helpful and so accommodating be dying this way??? But we are not to question God’s wisdom.
NOTE: She died at dawn of July 21, 2002. Both her daughter and son whom she so much loved were not on her side. None of her blood relatives were around, but God in His greatness would give His Mercy, as she too deserves peace in the Kingdom of the Lord.
A M P O N
AMPON
March 15, 2008
“Ampon” (adopted child) was how I called him. He in turn called me Itay and my wife, Inay. He came from ERMA KANLUNGAN, a place that Sheltered Abandoned Children. According to him he was only one year old when abandoned by his parents whom he never had a chance to know well. He was taken by his illiterate uncle who treated him very badly. He grew up in a very hostile environment.
His school experience was only up to grade one because his illiterate uncle did not want him to learn. He was tortured for every little mistake and was not given enough nutrition to keep him healthy. His uncle said he had an elder sister that he couldn’t recall and had no idea about her whereabouts.
When he reached the age of thirteen he stowed away and was able to reach Manila by riding and hiding in a commercial ship. In Manila, he did not know where to go and what to do, so, he was invited by some hardened street children who taught him how to inhale rugby solvent to temporarily forget their individual problems.
He was never convinced to join them snatching or slashing or doing akyat-bahay activities knowing that those were bad practices and afraid of being apprehended by the police. He earned a little by doing any dirty job in the marketplace or as kargador at the pier.
Early one night, a Born Again Pastor accidentally encountered him roaming around CPC Complex. He was brought to ERMA KANLUNGAN (Ermita-Manila Shelter for Street Children). There, they were given informal education by volunteers. Aside from being street smart, his informal training somehow made him ready to face the intricacies of the outside world. After three years of training and guidance at the Shelter he was brought to a Barangay in Cavite where those who were ready for release were trained to do different kinds of work especially in the farm.
He was in that Extension Shelter when someone recommended him to me knowing that I was looking for a gardener. I accepted him temporarily for two months observation. According to the Pastor who was his spiritual guide, he was never caught stealing or using others’ personal properties. He was very hygienic to himself and to his surroundings. He was “good in eating”, continued the Pastor,” probably due to lack of food at the shelter”.
He sadly expressed to me his very deep interest in pursuing his studies but now that he was seventeen years old, he felt awkward joining grade two pupils and also feared being ridiculed by the young classmates. I have been looking around for any school nearby that offered any short course that would fit him to be useful and fruitful.
According to him he could take a Bible Course because in that course he could be with anybody. It was his fervent wish to have any kind of certificate to prove that he also studied. He may also end up as a Pastor someday and when that happens he wanted to erect a big Church that will Praise God most of the time while he shall gather as many abandoned children like him. He shall take care of them, guide them and treat them the way "I am treating him now".
He has been rescued from the street but the marks of the street are still very much imbedded in his system. He ate with his bare hands finding it difficult to use fork and spoon. He sat with his feet up while in continuous movement as if in tremors. He quickly sings aloud without any provocation but one time I tried to listen and I found out that he was singing praises to the Lord.
I requested the Pastor guiding him, for another month of observation. In as far as doing his work is concerned he had improved a lot. He was a little bit doing better with his table manner but he was still wearing earring on one ear and another one on his tongue. He felt so at home with those borloloys but I have already convinced him to cut his hair to a decent shortness.
Saving or rescuing a street child is not a very easy job but Anthony (his name) was showing great signs of improvement. My wife and I, at this point were convinced that he could be accepted as our foster child. After all he didn’t know the whereabouts of his parents and other relatives.
Who knows? He might yet be the one who shall take care of us when we become old and weak. Yesterday he left to me half of his monthly salary for saving. I told him to put his money in the bank but he did not want to experience the hassles of depositing and withdrawing. One thing good about Anthony, he was very religious. I often see him in serious prayers still hoping to see his family but requested me that should his family find him and try to take him home with them, “Itay wag nyo na akong ibibigay…”
We have about two weeks left to decide if we shall accept him as our foster child. We are praying to God to show us the sign because we believe that accepting him is just one simple act of Mercy. ”Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, you do it to Me”, Jesus said one time while teaching here on earth.
March 15, 2008
“Ampon” (adopted child) was how I called him. He in turn called me Itay and my wife, Inay. He came from ERMA KANLUNGAN, a place that Sheltered Abandoned Children. According to him he was only one year old when abandoned by his parents whom he never had a chance to know well. He was taken by his illiterate uncle who treated him very badly. He grew up in a very hostile environment.
His school experience was only up to grade one because his illiterate uncle did not want him to learn. He was tortured for every little mistake and was not given enough nutrition to keep him healthy. His uncle said he had an elder sister that he couldn’t recall and had no idea about her whereabouts.
When he reached the age of thirteen he stowed away and was able to reach Manila by riding and hiding in a commercial ship. In Manila, he did not know where to go and what to do, so, he was invited by some hardened street children who taught him how to inhale rugby solvent to temporarily forget their individual problems.
He was never convinced to join them snatching or slashing or doing akyat-bahay activities knowing that those were bad practices and afraid of being apprehended by the police. He earned a little by doing any dirty job in the marketplace or as kargador at the pier.
Early one night, a Born Again Pastor accidentally encountered him roaming around CPC Complex. He was brought to ERMA KANLUNGAN (Ermita-Manila Shelter for Street Children). There, they were given informal education by volunteers. Aside from being street smart, his informal training somehow made him ready to face the intricacies of the outside world. After three years of training and guidance at the Shelter he was brought to a Barangay in Cavite where those who were ready for release were trained to do different kinds of work especially in the farm.
He was in that Extension Shelter when someone recommended him to me knowing that I was looking for a gardener. I accepted him temporarily for two months observation. According to the Pastor who was his spiritual guide, he was never caught stealing or using others’ personal properties. He was very hygienic to himself and to his surroundings. He was “good in eating”, continued the Pastor,” probably due to lack of food at the shelter”.
He sadly expressed to me his very deep interest in pursuing his studies but now that he was seventeen years old, he felt awkward joining grade two pupils and also feared being ridiculed by the young classmates. I have been looking around for any school nearby that offered any short course that would fit him to be useful and fruitful.
According to him he could take a Bible Course because in that course he could be with anybody. It was his fervent wish to have any kind of certificate to prove that he also studied. He may also end up as a Pastor someday and when that happens he wanted to erect a big Church that will Praise God most of the time while he shall gather as many abandoned children like him. He shall take care of them, guide them and treat them the way "I am treating him now".
He has been rescued from the street but the marks of the street are still very much imbedded in his system. He ate with his bare hands finding it difficult to use fork and spoon. He sat with his feet up while in continuous movement as if in tremors. He quickly sings aloud without any provocation but one time I tried to listen and I found out that he was singing praises to the Lord.
I requested the Pastor guiding him, for another month of observation. In as far as doing his work is concerned he had improved a lot. He was a little bit doing better with his table manner but he was still wearing earring on one ear and another one on his tongue. He felt so at home with those borloloys but I have already convinced him to cut his hair to a decent shortness.
Saving or rescuing a street child is not a very easy job but Anthony (his name) was showing great signs of improvement. My wife and I, at this point were convinced that he could be accepted as our foster child. After all he didn’t know the whereabouts of his parents and other relatives.
Who knows? He might yet be the one who shall take care of us when we become old and weak. Yesterday he left to me half of his monthly salary for saving. I told him to put his money in the bank but he did not want to experience the hassles of depositing and withdrawing. One thing good about Anthony, he was very religious. I often see him in serious prayers still hoping to see his family but requested me that should his family find him and try to take him home with them, “Itay wag nyo na akong ibibigay…”
We have about two weeks left to decide if we shall accept him as our foster child. We are praying to God to show us the sign because we believe that accepting him is just one simple act of Mercy. ”Whatever you do to the least of my brethren, you do it to Me”, Jesus said one time while teaching here on earth.
Friday, March 14, 2008
HELPER, ANYONE?
HELPER, ANYONE?
My wife and I were invited to a Chinese Wedding. The Church rite at 11:00 a.m. and the reception at 7:00 p.m. It was a whole day affair. We needed a driver and a friend recommended to me one.
He was a good driver but not quite used with the Manila routes. He was very talkative. He always had something to say about anything or anybody. My wife was happy that now she knew whom to call anytime she would be in need of a driver.
The following day I discovered that he was a drug user who just came out of the rehabilitation center. Further inquiry revealed that he still uses drugs every now and then.
One day we needed a maid for my daughter and as if an answer to our wish a pretty woman came applying for the job. She said she was an orphan, without brother and sister. She just separated from her husband and didn’t have any child with him.
She needed a place to go to and a job to help her. So I thought we needed one another… what a mutual luck! We quickly hired her to be brought to my daughter in Manila after two days. My daughter was so thankful and so excited to meet her new Yaya.
The following day, a manicurist saw her going to our house. She quickly made cautious comments and revealed many things about her. So, she had been married before and had two children, now grown ups. She was once a Japayuki and the “husband” to whom she said she just separated was just a live-in partner who was also a drug user. She had so many men in her life. The manicurist feared that she might bring havoc into our family.
Immediately I went home and told the woman that my daughter just texted me saying that her mother-in-law just brought two maids from the province and she would no longer be needed.
Hiring helper is a risky game. Once we hired a driver who was very decent, clean and with a good sense of humor. Our laundry woman who knew him warned us about him so I immediately dismissed him.
Two days later I saw him on T.V., captured after having carnapped a lawyer’s car. It turned out that he was the chief carnapper at the village where we were then residing.
My wife and I were invited to a Chinese Wedding. The Church rite at 11:00 a.m. and the reception at 7:00 p.m. It was a whole day affair. We needed a driver and a friend recommended to me one.
He was a good driver but not quite used with the Manila routes. He was very talkative. He always had something to say about anything or anybody. My wife was happy that now she knew whom to call anytime she would be in need of a driver.
The following day I discovered that he was a drug user who just came out of the rehabilitation center. Further inquiry revealed that he still uses drugs every now and then.
One day we needed a maid for my daughter and as if an answer to our wish a pretty woman came applying for the job. She said she was an orphan, without brother and sister. She just separated from her husband and didn’t have any child with him.
She needed a place to go to and a job to help her. So I thought we needed one another… what a mutual luck! We quickly hired her to be brought to my daughter in Manila after two days. My daughter was so thankful and so excited to meet her new Yaya.
The following day, a manicurist saw her going to our house. She quickly made cautious comments and revealed many things about her. So, she had been married before and had two children, now grown ups. She was once a Japayuki and the “husband” to whom she said she just separated was just a live-in partner who was also a drug user. She had so many men in her life. The manicurist feared that she might bring havoc into our family.
Immediately I went home and told the woman that my daughter just texted me saying that her mother-in-law just brought two maids from the province and she would no longer be needed.
Hiring helper is a risky game. Once we hired a driver who was very decent, clean and with a good sense of humor. Our laundry woman who knew him warned us about him so I immediately dismissed him.
Two days later I saw him on T.V., captured after having carnapped a lawyer’s car. It turned out that he was the chief carnapper at the village where we were then residing.
A PROPOSAL FOR TOURISM IN ALFONSO,CAVITE
A PROPOSAL FOR TOURISM IN
ALFONSO, CAVITE
INTRODUCTION:
THE TOWN OF ALFONSO
Once proclaimed the Most Peaceful Town in the province of Cavite, Alfonso was the former Barrio Alas-as of Indang until 1859 when it was established as a separate Municipality named after King Alfonso XII of Spain.
Only a stone’s throw from the scenic City of Tagaytay, Alfonso is a very good tourist destination.
It is the home of the cultic ritual called “Sanghiyang” (Ancestral Offering) and the Firewalkers known as “Barkos”. It is also where the Old Testament–based house blessing called “Basang Gilagid” is still practiced.
Alfonso is the place where the legendary “alas-as” plant and delicious “chicomami” grew first, and where the protective environmental Fairy called “piritay”, who always wears read in all her manifestations, is seen and known. Symbolic and very significant is its food called “Palutang”, which is offered on every important occasion of Thanksgiving. The most delicious “Pastillas”, “Tabliya” and “Achara “are products of this town.
Alfonso is the Flower Center of upland Cavite. At least six major flower farms are located here.
Through the continuous guidance of its Patron Saint, Saint John Nepomucene, the Alfonso folks are by nature, peace-loving, Pro-God, Pro-Life, Pro-People, Pro-Country and Pro-Environment.
MISSION:
To organize a SANGHIYANG FESTIVAL in Alfonso and to coordinate the festival’s activities.
VISION:
To help in the maintenance of peace and order through the Municipal Police Force and the Barangay Tanod.
To encourage the multi-sectoral support in the campaign to keep Alfonso clean and green for locals and tourists, particularly on the Barangay level.
To coordinate with the National, Provincial and Local Tourism Councils for the Sanghiyang Festival.
To band together local business establishments, to ensure their financial support and full cooperation for a successful festival.
Specifically-
To prepare welcome ceremonies and arranged for cultural presentations.
To negotiate with the owners for the use of available house/room, for the accommodation of tourists and guests.
To prepare a presentation of Sanghiyang ending up in Sayaw sa Apoy.
To monitor the quality control of Alfonso products such as Tabliya, Achara, Pastillas, Bukayo and Others. A committee shall also supervise restaurant and souvenir booths in order to maintain quality products and services.
To discipline and coordinate the use of public transportations like the jeepneys, the tricycles, etc., in going to their assigned routes.
To organize the local healers into a coherent, credible and disciplined members.
To invite participation of schools and NGO’s during the Sanghiyang Festival.
To encourage the Barangays to contribute local color and vitality to the festival.
To generate funds for a Foundation that will ensure that the Sanghiyang Festival will be a yearly presentation in Alfonso.
THE CONCEPT
Once a year during the third Saturday of January, a Sanghiyang Festival together with Sayaw sa Apoy shall be presented for the tourists. Together with the other guests they are expected to arrive Friday afternoon to be welcomed by a brass band on their way to the covered Basketball Court where they shall be given orientation and a taste of the local delicacies such as Palutang and Camachile bisquits.
From there the assigned group shall guide them to their accommodation of choice. Those interested could avail of the local healers who shall be in their assigned posts.
A dinner of Filipino food shall be offered but the guest may decide to eat in restaurants outside, near Tagaytay City. Saturday morning, they shall be offered Filipino breakfast with local chocolate (tabliya), salabat, or kapeng barako, together with especial pan Alfonso. Fresh local fruits and juices shall be offered too. Afterwards they can visit different cut flower farms and enjoy the beautiful natural landscape in different Barrios or Barangays. Some may wish to visit different Chapels, Churches and Retreat Houses. Others may decide to see how tabliya, achara, pastilllas and bukayo as well as suman and bibingka are made or how oil is extracted from coconut. They could also take a look at an antique stone grinder and observe how puto, kutsinta, and bibingka are cooked.
In the afternoon they can go to a Sabungan (cockpit ) or visit a healer for actual treatment of their ailments. At night they can visit a wake if there is one. They may observe a Sanghiyang (Ancestral Offering) or a Basang-gillagid (old fashioned house blessing) and experienced being one of the Walong Gulang). They may also attend any family celebrations such as Kompleanyo (Birthday), Padasal (Prayer offerings), Bura (Wedding), Tibaw (End of Novena for the departed), Babang Luksa (End of Mourning ) and other practices.
On Sunday morning, tourists may attend religious services of their choice depending upon their religious beliefs, and then do some shopping for souvenirs.
The SANGHIYANG FESTIVAL starts at 2:00 p.m. with the parade of participating Barangays and different schools showing their unique version of a Thanksgiving Ritual, their costumes in different shades of red in tribute to Nature’s Protective Fairy who always wears read. Four brass bands shall give the native sound and color to the parade which shall be at the Covered Basketball Court for the mass Sanghiyang Dance. Sayaw sa Apoy shall be performed at the open Alfonso Elementary School grounds where tourists, with permission from the Head Barko, may walk and Dance on fire.
After this final ritual of Thanksgiving the guests may opt to stay for another night to experience the traditional Harana (Serenade) or proceed to their destinations.
SANGHIYANG
A Thanksgiving Ritual
“Sanghiyanhg” is coined from two Tagalog words. “Isa” (0ne) and “hiyang”(compatibale), meaning, compatible whole or “nagkakaisang kabuuan”, which is the main purpose of the Festival… to show the compatibility and unity of the people in the community. It is also a cultic ritual preparatory to the rites of Ancestral Offering, Mediumistic Healing, “Basang-gilagid” (Ritual House Blessing), and “Sayaw sa Apoy” (Dance on Fire).
It used to be a Pagan rite but was later imbued with Christian connotations and biblical justifications as it claimed to be a hang over of Noah’s offering of Thanksgiving after the Universal Deluge (Genesis: VIII:20) How the ritual reached Alfonso, God only knows.
By: jett e. aviñante, m.d.
March 11, 2008
ALFONSO, CAVITE
INTRODUCTION:
THE TOWN OF ALFONSO
Once proclaimed the Most Peaceful Town in the province of Cavite, Alfonso was the former Barrio Alas-as of Indang until 1859 when it was established as a separate Municipality named after King Alfonso XII of Spain.
Only a stone’s throw from the scenic City of Tagaytay, Alfonso is a very good tourist destination.
It is the home of the cultic ritual called “Sanghiyang” (Ancestral Offering) and the Firewalkers known as “Barkos”. It is also where the Old Testament–based house blessing called “Basang Gilagid” is still practiced.
Alfonso is the place where the legendary “alas-as” plant and delicious “chicomami” grew first, and where the protective environmental Fairy called “piritay”, who always wears read in all her manifestations, is seen and known. Symbolic and very significant is its food called “Palutang”, which is offered on every important occasion of Thanksgiving. The most delicious “Pastillas”, “Tabliya” and “Achara “are products of this town.
Alfonso is the Flower Center of upland Cavite. At least six major flower farms are located here.
Through the continuous guidance of its Patron Saint, Saint John Nepomucene, the Alfonso folks are by nature, peace-loving, Pro-God, Pro-Life, Pro-People, Pro-Country and Pro-Environment.
MISSION:
To organize a SANGHIYANG FESTIVAL in Alfonso and to coordinate the festival’s activities.
VISION:
To help in the maintenance of peace and order through the Municipal Police Force and the Barangay Tanod.
To encourage the multi-sectoral support in the campaign to keep Alfonso clean and green for locals and tourists, particularly on the Barangay level.
To coordinate with the National, Provincial and Local Tourism Councils for the Sanghiyang Festival.
To band together local business establishments, to ensure their financial support and full cooperation for a successful festival.
Specifically-
To prepare welcome ceremonies and arranged for cultural presentations.
To negotiate with the owners for the use of available house/room, for the accommodation of tourists and guests.
To prepare a presentation of Sanghiyang ending up in Sayaw sa Apoy.
To monitor the quality control of Alfonso products such as Tabliya, Achara, Pastillas, Bukayo and Others. A committee shall also supervise restaurant and souvenir booths in order to maintain quality products and services.
To discipline and coordinate the use of public transportations like the jeepneys, the tricycles, etc., in going to their assigned routes.
To organize the local healers into a coherent, credible and disciplined members.
To invite participation of schools and NGO’s during the Sanghiyang Festival.
To encourage the Barangays to contribute local color and vitality to the festival.
To generate funds for a Foundation that will ensure that the Sanghiyang Festival will be a yearly presentation in Alfonso.
THE CONCEPT
Once a year during the third Saturday of January, a Sanghiyang Festival together with Sayaw sa Apoy shall be presented for the tourists. Together with the other guests they are expected to arrive Friday afternoon to be welcomed by a brass band on their way to the covered Basketball Court where they shall be given orientation and a taste of the local delicacies such as Palutang and Camachile bisquits.
From there the assigned group shall guide them to their accommodation of choice. Those interested could avail of the local healers who shall be in their assigned posts.
A dinner of Filipino food shall be offered but the guest may decide to eat in restaurants outside, near Tagaytay City. Saturday morning, they shall be offered Filipino breakfast with local chocolate (tabliya), salabat, or kapeng barako, together with especial pan Alfonso. Fresh local fruits and juices shall be offered too. Afterwards they can visit different cut flower farms and enjoy the beautiful natural landscape in different Barrios or Barangays. Some may wish to visit different Chapels, Churches and Retreat Houses. Others may decide to see how tabliya, achara, pastilllas and bukayo as well as suman and bibingka are made or how oil is extracted from coconut. They could also take a look at an antique stone grinder and observe how puto, kutsinta, and bibingka are cooked.
In the afternoon they can go to a Sabungan (cockpit ) or visit a healer for actual treatment of their ailments. At night they can visit a wake if there is one. They may observe a Sanghiyang (Ancestral Offering) or a Basang-gillagid (old fashioned house blessing) and experienced being one of the Walong Gulang). They may also attend any family celebrations such as Kompleanyo (Birthday), Padasal (Prayer offerings), Bura (Wedding), Tibaw (End of Novena for the departed), Babang Luksa (End of Mourning ) and other practices.
On Sunday morning, tourists may attend religious services of their choice depending upon their religious beliefs, and then do some shopping for souvenirs.
The SANGHIYANG FESTIVAL starts at 2:00 p.m. with the parade of participating Barangays and different schools showing their unique version of a Thanksgiving Ritual, their costumes in different shades of red in tribute to Nature’s Protective Fairy who always wears read. Four brass bands shall give the native sound and color to the parade which shall be at the Covered Basketball Court for the mass Sanghiyang Dance. Sayaw sa Apoy shall be performed at the open Alfonso Elementary School grounds where tourists, with permission from the Head Barko, may walk and Dance on fire.
After this final ritual of Thanksgiving the guests may opt to stay for another night to experience the traditional Harana (Serenade) or proceed to their destinations.
SANGHIYANG
A Thanksgiving Ritual
“Sanghiyanhg” is coined from two Tagalog words. “Isa” (0ne) and “hiyang”(compatibale), meaning, compatible whole or “nagkakaisang kabuuan”, which is the main purpose of the Festival… to show the compatibility and unity of the people in the community. It is also a cultic ritual preparatory to the rites of Ancestral Offering, Mediumistic Healing, “Basang-gilagid” (Ritual House Blessing), and “Sayaw sa Apoy” (Dance on Fire).
It used to be a Pagan rite but was later imbued with Christian connotations and biblical justifications as it claimed to be a hang over of Noah’s offering of Thanksgiving after the Universal Deluge (Genesis: VIII:20) How the ritual reached Alfonso, God only knows.
By: jett e. aviñante, m.d.
March 11, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
OF DREAM AND DEATH
OF DREAM AND DEATH
My three-year old grand daughter had a dream. ‘I was holding her hand when I suddenly died’. My grand daughter Erika woke up crying and shouting: “I miss my Lolo! I want to see my Lolo!, she said.
So on July 17, 2004 her parents allowed her and sister Ariel to go to the province with their Lola to see their Lolo. It was around 7:00 p.m. when they arrived. My wife said she brought home something for me that I must see in the car. From the Terrace where we were I went down to see what it was and indeed it was a most pleasant surprise. Yeye and Ekka kissed and embraced me so tightly that I was so touched and almost teary-eyed
When I asked Erika about the dream that my wife whispered to me earlier, she said it was “a wrong dream”. But I could feel how concerned she was about her Lolo. She sat on my lap and kissed me many, many times.
After they left the following day I couldn’t help but ponder on death. I knew I was already old and aware that sooner or later, in fact, anytime death could claim me for eternity. I was that fatalistic and quite ready to meet death any moment. I already prepared my own gravesite at one portion of my Crude Garden. It was a circular area surrounded by rugged stones with a cypress plant at the center. It was where I wished my ashes would be scattered after I am cremated.
A few days ago I felt a kind of sub-sternal pain which, being a doctor myself, I knew was somehow a symptom of something wrong with my heart. At first I thought of consulting a Cardiologist but knowing that the Cardiologist would suggest several examinations and laboratory procedures, not to mention the necessary treatment to save my heart and my life, I hesitated.
In truth I wanted to die of heart attach. It would be faster and less painful as it would also save a lot of trouble to people who otherwise would be forced by circumstances to care for me. I didn’t want to bother my love ones or anybody as I also didn’t want to spend so much knowing that at the end I would also die.
As a fulfilled senior citizen I was no longer aiming to add many more years to my life. What I was trying to do was add life to what ever remaining years I still have. I was trying to keep busy in my garden. Planting, weeding, watering, transferring a stone from one place to another or just walking around. There were so many worthwhile things that nature could offer but most active people didn’t realize or take advent age of.
Modern young people living in this polluted world generally neglected a symbiotic existence with nature. A lot was missed by unknowingly avoiding the goodness offered by nature.
Jardin Gaudom, a Mini Forest, my Crude, Unique Garden was conceived for this simple but healthful intermingling with nature. Every morning I would imbibe the plant and fresh air prana freely offered by my garden. This hobby kept me healthy and happily rejuvenated.
I could sense that God willing, my wife and I would still live long enough to celebrate our Golden Wedding Anniversary. By that time my grand daughters Ariel, Erika, Tatiana, Kay and Katie would all be grown ups. There would probably be several other grandchildren added to the clan and Erika would probably have completely forgotten about her dream that her Lolo died.
By that time colorful blooms shall probably be surrounding my garden. Scent of blossoms shall be everywhere while trees shall be bigger and exuding more oxygen in exchange to the carbon dioxide exhaled by strollers.
By that time my garden shall possibly be more popular not only for its simplicity but most of all for its healthy surrounding that would help minimize the pollution in the community. By that time it would be glorious to die and my ashes be scattered around the cypress tree in my small circular grave site where I would physically stay while my soul would peacefully zoom to eternity.
My three-year old grand daughter had a dream. ‘I was holding her hand when I suddenly died’. My grand daughter Erika woke up crying and shouting: “I miss my Lolo! I want to see my Lolo!, she said.
So on July 17, 2004 her parents allowed her and sister Ariel to go to the province with their Lola to see their Lolo. It was around 7:00 p.m. when they arrived. My wife said she brought home something for me that I must see in the car. From the Terrace where we were I went down to see what it was and indeed it was a most pleasant surprise. Yeye and Ekka kissed and embraced me so tightly that I was so touched and almost teary-eyed
When I asked Erika about the dream that my wife whispered to me earlier, she said it was “a wrong dream”. But I could feel how concerned she was about her Lolo. She sat on my lap and kissed me many, many times.
After they left the following day I couldn’t help but ponder on death. I knew I was already old and aware that sooner or later, in fact, anytime death could claim me for eternity. I was that fatalistic and quite ready to meet death any moment. I already prepared my own gravesite at one portion of my Crude Garden. It was a circular area surrounded by rugged stones with a cypress plant at the center. It was where I wished my ashes would be scattered after I am cremated.
A few days ago I felt a kind of sub-sternal pain which, being a doctor myself, I knew was somehow a symptom of something wrong with my heart. At first I thought of consulting a Cardiologist but knowing that the Cardiologist would suggest several examinations and laboratory procedures, not to mention the necessary treatment to save my heart and my life, I hesitated.
In truth I wanted to die of heart attach. It would be faster and less painful as it would also save a lot of trouble to people who otherwise would be forced by circumstances to care for me. I didn’t want to bother my love ones or anybody as I also didn’t want to spend so much knowing that at the end I would also die.
As a fulfilled senior citizen I was no longer aiming to add many more years to my life. What I was trying to do was add life to what ever remaining years I still have. I was trying to keep busy in my garden. Planting, weeding, watering, transferring a stone from one place to another or just walking around. There were so many worthwhile things that nature could offer but most active people didn’t realize or take advent age of.
Modern young people living in this polluted world generally neglected a symbiotic existence with nature. A lot was missed by unknowingly avoiding the goodness offered by nature.
Jardin Gaudom, a Mini Forest, my Crude, Unique Garden was conceived for this simple but healthful intermingling with nature. Every morning I would imbibe the plant and fresh air prana freely offered by my garden. This hobby kept me healthy and happily rejuvenated.
I could sense that God willing, my wife and I would still live long enough to celebrate our Golden Wedding Anniversary. By that time my grand daughters Ariel, Erika, Tatiana, Kay and Katie would all be grown ups. There would probably be several other grandchildren added to the clan and Erika would probably have completely forgotten about her dream that her Lolo died.
By that time colorful blooms shall probably be surrounding my garden. Scent of blossoms shall be everywhere while trees shall be bigger and exuding more oxygen in exchange to the carbon dioxide exhaled by strollers.
By that time my garden shall possibly be more popular not only for its simplicity but most of all for its healthy surrounding that would help minimize the pollution in the community. By that time it would be glorious to die and my ashes be scattered around the cypress tree in my small circular grave site where I would physically stay while my soul would peacefully zoom to eternity.
LANDSCAPED BY GOD
LANDSCAPED BY GOD
Starting from the crude door bell, turning left to the welcome sign, if one should walk as if under the moonlight, it takes around five hundred steps to make a double loop forming a crooked figure of 8 before taking a sip of the secret tea.
While strolling one shall encounter along the way, ordinary and common plants that actually exude beneficial and positive vibrations that energizes and improves the health of the stroller. Meantime, though unconsciously, the stroller in turn gives out carbon dioxide and other by-products needed by the plants to grow and go on living healthily.
That simple process of give and take, scientifically termed symbiosis is the principle that governs Jardin Gaudom (derived from Gaudencio and Dominga, the couple,my parents, who originally owned the place). Unlike most popular garden nowadays, there are only few colorful blooms and fragrant flowers available. The modern aesthetic look is also absent for the garden is crude in everyway. But like the garden of Eden in Paradise, what is obvious is the presence of tall trees that are good to sight because it is actually a mini forest.
There are unselected trees and ornamentals growing at random without any of the so-called artistic pattern. But that is also the way it was in the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus Christ prayed and "perspired" blood before He was crucified. There, surrounded mostly by olive trees, Jesus offered Himself to God when He proclaimed “Thy will be done”. God is my landscape engineer. What He allows to grow must be important. The different species with different shapes and colors are all giving out various energies and vibrations beneficial to man. A simple walk along the uneven pathway is a total new experience in itself.
In this garden one imbibes the freshness of nature and forgets about environmental pollution. More important is the part of the garden that allows one to actually throw out all mental and emotional garbage. The Scream out Area is always ready to absorb all impurities, be it physical, emotional or psychological. This is the proper place for mental ventilation and psychological catharsis where the pollution of the mind and of the emotion could totally be dissolved.
During this age of indecencies and immoralities, the garden’s meditation area is perfect for one to do introspection or self-analysis. It is here where one could be alone and have genuine dialogs with mother nature. Here, one could immerse oneself with one’s Creator and relieved oneself of all spiritual pollutants.
For a shoulder-to-cry-on there is the Counseling corner where one could freely pour out one’s problems or discuss various topics for interest with the garden’s owner. Not far from this corner is a big enough space for the wild life where they should not be bothered in order to maintain the balance of nature. There, they are fed with the biodegradable.
At the center of the garden lays circular area with rough stones surrounding a Cypress plant. This is the owner’s grave site where he wished his ashes should be scattered after he is cremated when he dies. That is his way of keeping himself physically part of the garden while his soul returns to the Eternal Garden of his Creator.
Making another figure of 8 walk, one could encounter other features of the garden such as the crude Wishing Well and the crude Fortune Gong which many claimed, have already given them good fortune and success in their ventures. Somewhere is the Hut for Amicable Settlement for quarreling parties to patch up their differences. When not in use as such it serves as resting area during summer lime and sometimes a play house for the children. Around this are the unusual Rock Garden and the Floral Concoction site as well as the portion for Herbal plants. There are also plastic playhouse and a plastic slide but only children assisted by adults are allowed to play since the garden in not really child friendly. Recycled items used in various manners may also be noticed everywhere.
Directly adjacent to the Ancestral House is the Terrace of Merriment, the main reception area that could accommodate thirty persons for a simple gathering. Across is the Balcony of Reconciliation for those who are experiencing a lover’s quarrel. Here, lovers could sweet-talk each other under a pretty bignay tree, sometimes with multi-colored fruits, until they are back to each other’s arms. Under this Balcony is a cozy portion for those who enjoy and are at home with street and neighborhood noises. For a small party the open area between the Balcony of Reconciliation and the Terrace of Merriment could accommodate 50 persons.
Jardin Gaudom, which also offers lying on Biomat Bed for Health, is in the middle of the town proper, yet, it keeps the freshness , the serenity, the peace and the virgin atmosphere of a far away farm. As one visitor commented, It is a mini paradise of the modern time.
Starting from the crude door bell, turning left to the welcome sign, if one should walk as if under the moonlight, it takes around five hundred steps to make a double loop forming a crooked figure of 8 before taking a sip of the secret tea.
While strolling one shall encounter along the way, ordinary and common plants that actually exude beneficial and positive vibrations that energizes and improves the health of the stroller. Meantime, though unconsciously, the stroller in turn gives out carbon dioxide and other by-products needed by the plants to grow and go on living healthily.
That simple process of give and take, scientifically termed symbiosis is the principle that governs Jardin Gaudom (derived from Gaudencio and Dominga, the couple,my parents, who originally owned the place). Unlike most popular garden nowadays, there are only few colorful blooms and fragrant flowers available. The modern aesthetic look is also absent for the garden is crude in everyway. But like the garden of Eden in Paradise, what is obvious is the presence of tall trees that are good to sight because it is actually a mini forest.
There are unselected trees and ornamentals growing at random without any of the so-called artistic pattern. But that is also the way it was in the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus Christ prayed and "perspired" blood before He was crucified. There, surrounded mostly by olive trees, Jesus offered Himself to God when He proclaimed “Thy will be done”. God is my landscape engineer. What He allows to grow must be important. The different species with different shapes and colors are all giving out various energies and vibrations beneficial to man. A simple walk along the uneven pathway is a total new experience in itself.
In this garden one imbibes the freshness of nature and forgets about environmental pollution. More important is the part of the garden that allows one to actually throw out all mental and emotional garbage. The Scream out Area is always ready to absorb all impurities, be it physical, emotional or psychological. This is the proper place for mental ventilation and psychological catharsis where the pollution of the mind and of the emotion could totally be dissolved.
During this age of indecencies and immoralities, the garden’s meditation area is perfect for one to do introspection or self-analysis. It is here where one could be alone and have genuine dialogs with mother nature. Here, one could immerse oneself with one’s Creator and relieved oneself of all spiritual pollutants.
For a shoulder-to-cry-on there is the Counseling corner where one could freely pour out one’s problems or discuss various topics for interest with the garden’s owner. Not far from this corner is a big enough space for the wild life where they should not be bothered in order to maintain the balance of nature. There, they are fed with the biodegradable.
At the center of the garden lays circular area with rough stones surrounding a Cypress plant. This is the owner’s grave site where he wished his ashes should be scattered after he is cremated when he dies. That is his way of keeping himself physically part of the garden while his soul returns to the Eternal Garden of his Creator.
Making another figure of 8 walk, one could encounter other features of the garden such as the crude Wishing Well and the crude Fortune Gong which many claimed, have already given them good fortune and success in their ventures. Somewhere is the Hut for Amicable Settlement for quarreling parties to patch up their differences. When not in use as such it serves as resting area during summer lime and sometimes a play house for the children. Around this are the unusual Rock Garden and the Floral Concoction site as well as the portion for Herbal plants. There are also plastic playhouse and a plastic slide but only children assisted by adults are allowed to play since the garden in not really child friendly. Recycled items used in various manners may also be noticed everywhere.
Directly adjacent to the Ancestral House is the Terrace of Merriment, the main reception area that could accommodate thirty persons for a simple gathering. Across is the Balcony of Reconciliation for those who are experiencing a lover’s quarrel. Here, lovers could sweet-talk each other under a pretty bignay tree, sometimes with multi-colored fruits, until they are back to each other’s arms. Under this Balcony is a cozy portion for those who enjoy and are at home with street and neighborhood noises. For a small party the open area between the Balcony of Reconciliation and the Terrace of Merriment could accommodate 50 persons.
Jardin Gaudom, which also offers lying on Biomat Bed for Health, is in the middle of the town proper, yet, it keeps the freshness , the serenity, the peace and the virgin atmosphere of a far away farm. As one visitor commented, It is a mini paradise of the modern time.
SYMBIOTIC EXISTENCE WITH NATURE
SYMBIOTIC EXISTENCE WITH NATURE
Generally, when we talk of gardens we have in mind, colorful blooms and flowers of all kinds perfectly planted on the right locations. But that is not so. Even in the Garden of Eden at Paradise, there was no mention of flowers. In Genesis Chapter II, verses 8 and 9 this is written: “And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden; and there He put the man whom He have formed. And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food: the tree of life is also in the midst of the garden and the tree of knowledge of good and evil”. We also know that only olive trees surrounded the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus prayed before He was crucified.
-products that the plants exude out are needed by man to survive. This is the principle of symbiotic existence, a simple give and take. And that is supposedly the simplest thing we could do to keep healthy, yet it is the thing that is easily neglected nowadays.
Our environment is now greatly polluted and we are gradually being poisoned. You will notice that there are so many people being afflicted with so many ailments and people are dying left and right even at very young age.
The reason is because of the pollutants emitted by the trash and the garbage that surround us. We have them in our kitchen, at our backyard and at every corner of the community.
Not only that, even our spiritual life is also polluted. Indecencies and immoralities are so common in all institutions and at all ages that generally people already forget the meaning of a good life. That is why we need a Meditation Corner where we could be by ourselves alone. Where we could do introspection or self-analysis, where we could just relax and listen to the voice of God through the sound of nature. You will be surprised how enlightening and refreshing this could be.
There is also such a thing as Mental and Emotional Pollution, like when our mind is already crowded that we already forget to think correctly. When we suppress a thought, an idea or a feeling, they try to find an outlet in our physical body. If they find the head it results to what we call Migraine headache; if they find the heart it results to Angina Pectoris or chest pain; if they finds the stomach it could result to hyper acidity, gas pain or even peptic ulcer; if they find the uterus it could result to painful menstruation; if they find the lungs it could result to hyperventilation syndrome or asthma; if they find the sex organs it could result to frigidity in female or impotency in male; they may also find the joints and results to rheumatism or arthritis.
This is precisely the reason for the Scream out Area. So that what you cannot personally say to a person concerned you may just scream it out by imagining that the person is there present. The Scream out Area is an outlet for all your negative vibrations whether it is physical, emotional, psychological or spiritual. But if there is a person to whom you can express all your feelings, your problems, your fears and whatever with full trust, you need not scream at all.
Don’t be confused if while strolling you encounter recycled objects displayed at different parts of the garden: such as used plastic containers converted into flower pots, a rusting iron swing covered by vines or curtains made of discarded credit cards, phone cards, etc. There are also hanging and half-buried tires planted with orchids, ferns and other varied vines. Tolerate the many ‘throwables’ made “keepables“.
In every garden there are wild lives like snakes, lizards and some other small animals. They sometimes tend to disturb the serenity of a garden but if you set aside a particular place for them and if you feed them and if you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you. There is a Wild Life Area where I throw the biodegradable for the wild animals to eat.
The Counseling Corner is another important feature of the Garden. It is here where I entertain people who seek my counsels whether young or old who can find peace of mind by talking to me freely. This place is also where I sometimes socialize with my friends, where we sometimes do no-holds-barred and other informal gatherings. Hanging used electric bulbs may perplex a visitor but they signify 101 dormant ideas that could be discussed in that corner – electric bulb being a symbol of idea.
Part of the garden is the Hut for Amicable Settlement where opposing parties could discuss openly their problems. It is a screened hut, which we also use to rest during hot days and where my grand children and their playmates enjoy with their toys. Not far from here is the Terrace of Merriment, the main reception area. It can accommodate up to thirty persons for simple socialization, for small meeting or come-what-may gatherings. A stone’s throw from it is the family’s extension guest room ready to accommodate those who wish to stay overnight. Across the Terrace of Merriment is the Balcony of Reconciliation for quarrelling lovers to patch up their misunderstandings. Under it is a cozy corner for those who enjoy and are at home with the street and neighborhood noises. Strollers mustn’t miss the artificial Mini Wishing Well and the Crude Fortune Gong, which many claimed have given them good fortune and successes in their ventures.
A simple party for fifty could also be held at the open area between the Terrace of Merriment and the Balcony of Reconciliation. And since the Mini Forest is not child friendly, only children assisted by adults are allowed to play. Everyone is cautioned to beware of the falling coconut palms and fruits. One may chance to see a circular area surrounded by rugged stones and planted to a Cypress tree at the center. It is the garden owner’s gravesite where he wished his ashes should be scattered when he is cremated after death. That way he will always be physically a part of the garden while his soul returns to the Garden of God.
Generally, when we talk of gardens we have in mind, colorful blooms and flowers of all kinds perfectly planted on the right locations. But that is not so. Even in the Garden of Eden at Paradise, there was no mention of flowers. In Genesis Chapter II, verses 8 and 9 this is written: “And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden; and there He put the man whom He have formed. And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food: the tree of life is also in the midst of the garden and the tree of knowledge of good and evil”. We also know that only olive trees surrounded the Garden of Gethsemane where Jesus prayed before He was crucified.
-products that the plants exude out are needed by man to survive. This is the principle of symbiotic existence, a simple give and take. And that is supposedly the simplest thing we could do to keep healthy, yet it is the thing that is easily neglected nowadays.
Our environment is now greatly polluted and we are gradually being poisoned. You will notice that there are so many people being afflicted with so many ailments and people are dying left and right even at very young age.
The reason is because of the pollutants emitted by the trash and the garbage that surround us. We have them in our kitchen, at our backyard and at every corner of the community.
Not only that, even our spiritual life is also polluted. Indecencies and immoralities are so common in all institutions and at all ages that generally people already forget the meaning of a good life. That is why we need a Meditation Corner where we could be by ourselves alone. Where we could do introspection or self-analysis, where we could just relax and listen to the voice of God through the sound of nature. You will be surprised how enlightening and refreshing this could be.
There is also such a thing as Mental and Emotional Pollution, like when our mind is already crowded that we already forget to think correctly. When we suppress a thought, an idea or a feeling, they try to find an outlet in our physical body. If they find the head it results to what we call Migraine headache; if they find the heart it results to Angina Pectoris or chest pain; if they finds the stomach it could result to hyper acidity, gas pain or even peptic ulcer; if they find the uterus it could result to painful menstruation; if they find the lungs it could result to hyperventilation syndrome or asthma; if they find the sex organs it could result to frigidity in female or impotency in male; they may also find the joints and results to rheumatism or arthritis.
This is precisely the reason for the Scream out Area. So that what you cannot personally say to a person concerned you may just scream it out by imagining that the person is there present. The Scream out Area is an outlet for all your negative vibrations whether it is physical, emotional, psychological or spiritual. But if there is a person to whom you can express all your feelings, your problems, your fears and whatever with full trust, you need not scream at all.
Don’t be confused if while strolling you encounter recycled objects displayed at different parts of the garden: such as used plastic containers converted into flower pots, a rusting iron swing covered by vines or curtains made of discarded credit cards, phone cards, etc. There are also hanging and half-buried tires planted with orchids, ferns and other varied vines. Tolerate the many ‘throwables’ made “keepables“.
In every garden there are wild lives like snakes, lizards and some other small animals. They sometimes tend to disturb the serenity of a garden but if you set aside a particular place for them and if you feed them and if you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you. There is a Wild Life Area where I throw the biodegradable for the wild animals to eat.
The Counseling Corner is another important feature of the Garden. It is here where I entertain people who seek my counsels whether young or old who can find peace of mind by talking to me freely. This place is also where I sometimes socialize with my friends, where we sometimes do no-holds-barred and other informal gatherings. Hanging used electric bulbs may perplex a visitor but they signify 101 dormant ideas that could be discussed in that corner – electric bulb being a symbol of idea.
Part of the garden is the Hut for Amicable Settlement where opposing parties could discuss openly their problems. It is a screened hut, which we also use to rest during hot days and where my grand children and their playmates enjoy with their toys. Not far from here is the Terrace of Merriment, the main reception area. It can accommodate up to thirty persons for simple socialization, for small meeting or come-what-may gatherings. A stone’s throw from it is the family’s extension guest room ready to accommodate those who wish to stay overnight. Across the Terrace of Merriment is the Balcony of Reconciliation for quarrelling lovers to patch up their misunderstandings. Under it is a cozy corner for those who enjoy and are at home with the street and neighborhood noises. Strollers mustn’t miss the artificial Mini Wishing Well and the Crude Fortune Gong, which many claimed have given them good fortune and successes in their ventures.
A simple party for fifty could also be held at the open area between the Terrace of Merriment and the Balcony of Reconciliation. And since the Mini Forest is not child friendly, only children assisted by adults are allowed to play. Everyone is cautioned to beware of the falling coconut palms and fruits. One may chance to see a circular area surrounded by rugged stones and planted to a Cypress tree at the center. It is the garden owner’s gravesite where he wished his ashes should be scattered when he is cremated after death. That way he will always be physically a part of the garden while his soul returns to the Garden of God.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
jardin GAUDOM (A Mini Forest)
Jardin GAUDOM
(A Mini Forest)
Jardin Gaudom (a mini forest) is a crude garden occupying an area of about 2,000 square meters. It has around 50 species of plants planted without following any orderly pattern. Its pathway is crooked and uneven, purposely made that way to avoid walking under coconut trees, thus keeping the walker safe from falling coconut palms and fruits.
At one corner, under a huge Narra plant is a manmade Wishing Well (actually a concrete basin) surrounded by various ornamentals, orchids and vines entirely different from any wishing well one have seen somewhere else. There is an area for Floral Concoction opposite the portion of Herbal Plants. Near the unusual Rock Garden is a screened Bahay-Kubo also called the Hut for Amicable Settlement. Just opposite is the family’s Extension Guest Room where those who want to stay overnight could be accommodated.
Slogans and quotations are everywhere; one will feel as if the trees are talking to him.
Walking a bit further one will encounter the Friendship area intended for camaraderie. Adjacent to it is the Rosary Corner curtained by used cards of all kinds. Beside it is the Meditation site where one could just sit, relax and with eyes closed listen to the voice of God through the amazing sound of nature.
More interesting is the Scream out Area for the emotionally polluted heart. There one could let go all negative vibrations, while allowing all impurities, emotional, psychological and spiritual to flow with the water beyond coconut, bamboo and kabo negro plants to be purified and diluted in the vast ocean of goodness.
Nearby is a small circular Grave site, surrounded by stones, where the garden’s owner wish, his ashes when he dies, shall be scattered around a Cypress plant. That way his physical part shall always be a part of his garden while his soul goes to the garden of God.
A few more steps bring one to the Counseling Corner, supposedly the most pleasant space in the garden. It is shaded by bamboos, where young boys and girls come for advice as well as their parents and teachers at times. It is used for socialization and drinking sessions too. A parking area is conveniently available.
Eye-catching and conspicuously located is the Terrace of Merriment that could accommodate 30 persons casually. There is also a Balcony of Reconciliation for quarreling lovers to patch up their misunderstanding under the shade of a Bignay tree. Below the Balcony is the interesting portion for those who enjoy and are at home with street and neighborhood noises.
Strolling through the maze of Jardin Gaudom gives one a quick experience in 'ecozoic' living, a peaceful, happy and symbiotic existence with nature. It takes only five hundred steps to make a complete round of this unique garden.
Gaudom is coined from the names Gaudencio and Dominga, the couple, my parents, who originally owned the ancestral home where the backyard is converted into a somehow weird and unconventional place to experience during this age of modernity and sophistication.
In this era of computers and cell phones, of global blunders and political stupidities, of terrorism and criminalities, a visit to Jardin Gaudom is a refreshing experience.
(A Mini Forest)
Jardin Gaudom (a mini forest) is a crude garden occupying an area of about 2,000 square meters. It has around 50 species of plants planted without following any orderly pattern. Its pathway is crooked and uneven, purposely made that way to avoid walking under coconut trees, thus keeping the walker safe from falling coconut palms and fruits.
At one corner, under a huge Narra plant is a manmade Wishing Well (actually a concrete basin) surrounded by various ornamentals, orchids and vines entirely different from any wishing well one have seen somewhere else. There is an area for Floral Concoction opposite the portion of Herbal Plants. Near the unusual Rock Garden is a screened Bahay-Kubo also called the Hut for Amicable Settlement. Just opposite is the family’s Extension Guest Room where those who want to stay overnight could be accommodated.
Slogans and quotations are everywhere; one will feel as if the trees are talking to him.
Walking a bit further one will encounter the Friendship area intended for camaraderie. Adjacent to it is the Rosary Corner curtained by used cards of all kinds. Beside it is the Meditation site where one could just sit, relax and with eyes closed listen to the voice of God through the amazing sound of nature.
More interesting is the Scream out Area for the emotionally polluted heart. There one could let go all negative vibrations, while allowing all impurities, emotional, psychological and spiritual to flow with the water beyond coconut, bamboo and kabo negro plants to be purified and diluted in the vast ocean of goodness.
Nearby is a small circular Grave site, surrounded by stones, where the garden’s owner wish, his ashes when he dies, shall be scattered around a Cypress plant. That way his physical part shall always be a part of his garden while his soul goes to the garden of God.
A few more steps bring one to the Counseling Corner, supposedly the most pleasant space in the garden. It is shaded by bamboos, where young boys and girls come for advice as well as their parents and teachers at times. It is used for socialization and drinking sessions too. A parking area is conveniently available.
Eye-catching and conspicuously located is the Terrace of Merriment that could accommodate 30 persons casually. There is also a Balcony of Reconciliation for quarreling lovers to patch up their misunderstanding under the shade of a Bignay tree. Below the Balcony is the interesting portion for those who enjoy and are at home with street and neighborhood noises.
Strolling through the maze of Jardin Gaudom gives one a quick experience in 'ecozoic' living, a peaceful, happy and symbiotic existence with nature. It takes only five hundred steps to make a complete round of this unique garden.
Gaudom is coined from the names Gaudencio and Dominga, the couple, my parents, who originally owned the ancestral home where the backyard is converted into a somehow weird and unconventional place to experience during this age of modernity and sophistication.
In this era of computers and cell phones, of global blunders and political stupidities, of terrorism and criminalities, a visit to Jardin Gaudom is a refreshing experience.
STAIRWAYS TO HEAVEN (BANAUE)
STAIRWAYS TO HEAVEN
The Banaue Rice Terraces
April 13, 1998
One of the places that strongly obsessed me since I was a child was the Banuae Rice Terraces also called poetically as the Stairways to Heaven and considered by many as the Eight Wonder of the World. I was greatly exhilarated that at last through the nagging insistence of Mrs. Letty Meim, I finally had the chance of my lifetime to realize my obsession.
It was unfortunate though that my wife, Terry couldn’t join us due to several previous commitments. Jaime Leyran too, Letty’s brother who originally was scheduled to be my room companion but backed out at the eleventh hour.
So, together with ten others we proceeded as originally planned. I was still nursing the hangover of the three-hour –barefoot-walk during the Station of the Cross on Good Friday. I was picked at 4:00 a.m., then Endong and Terry Cruz before we finally went directly to the Heart Center where Nena Ong and daughter Daphni were waiting. It was 5:05 a.m.
We passed by Hacienda Luisita in Tarlac, which surprised me a bit. I didn’t expect to see an Ultra-modern Commercial Center where the conglomeration of all establishments and buildings was architecturally designed to simulate a small kingdom in Saudi Arabia.
After relieving ourselves at Jollibee we detoured to the Grotto of Our Lady of Rosales at Rosales, Pangasinan. Unlike other grottoes, this one was conspicuously located in the middle of a rice plantation along a main thoroughfare. I noticed that the people at the area were disciplined. No vendor or beggar approached us while at the Holy Place
As we went on, the guide pointed to us the drying Varabello Mountain Ranges.
We took our lunch at Marquez Restaurant at San Jose Nueva Ecija. After lunch, along the zig-zag road we were shown the Chico Dam basin. We also stopped and took some pictures at the Dalton Pass, (originally Balete Pass) at Sta. Fe, Nueva Viscaya.
After Bayombong and Solano we passed through the Cordillera Mountain Ranges and lamented at the sight of the barren and brown mountains. Result of the El Niño phenomenon. Along the highway from Tarlac I noticed that the people were more naïve-looking than in other places.
At around 3:30 p.m. we entered the ‘gate’ to the Eight Wonder of the World. I noticed the newly built houses with more advanced architectural designs. There were few isolated native Ifugao houses.
We reached Banaue Hotel at 4:56 p.m. I quickly posed for a picture in front of a miniature “Bale”, the native Ifugao house that I’ve been dying to see “personally”. Just for the experience we dined at Las Vegas Restaurant at the Trade Center, twenty minute walk from the Hotel.
What turned out to be one of my most touching experience was the mild tremor felt early at dawn of April 14, 1998. My watch showed 2:20 a.m. I was awakened fearing that a native ghost was playing with my bed. Paul Meim, my room mate was awakened too, possibly thinking that I was pushing his bed. He asked loudly: “Ano ba yan”?
Suddenly realizing that I was on top of the mountain and apprehensive about the possibility of a stronger tremor to follow I was quickly reminded of my mother’s Latin Prayer during moments of danger:“Sanctus Deus, Sanctus Potes, Sanctus Immortales, Miserere Nobis”
After the prayer I felt safe but my mind wondered. What if there were big dangers near the epicenter, wherever it was. Did my family feel the tremors too? Many other thoughts crossed my mind. I wasn’t able to sleep deeply ‘till morning.
Yes, there was no radio or T.V. or newspaper to relay any story about the tremor. The T.V. set at the lobby couldn’t receive signals from local channels. I suspected that perhaps “Bulol”, Ifugao’s god of rice and guardian of the Rice Terraces willed it that way to make our experience a bit more enchanting.
All at once I felt more enlightened about the fragility of life. That I was only one earthquake and one heartbeat away from eternity; that I was a mere simple being, given a chance to enjoy life that I mustn’t abuse.
The event reminded me of the crumbling of the Tower of Babel because of people’s pride. So, Banaue Rice Terraces, the stairways to heaven energized my spirituality. In the morning I woke up still hounded by the message of the tremor. I went around the hotel, all the time pondering about the mystic beauty of Banaue. Whoever brainchild the idea of the terraces must be a genius and as the guide Eloy later explained, was a Filipino that we should all be proud of .
After breakfast, we prepared for a more thrilling experience. We hired a jeepney to bring us to Banga-an, about 14 kms. From the hotel. The street was rough and narrow, curving along the mountainsides. One wrong maneuver of the driver could bring about disaster. An encounter with a vehicle coming from the opposite direction required a difficult mental calisthenics for which our driver, Manuel Atalba was an expert. My jeepney jokes somehow kept away our minds from the dangers of the trip.
We reached Banga-an at about noontime. It was a very picturesque village about 2 kms. From Batad junction along Maroyo road. We ate at Banga-an Family Inn and Restaurant before proceeding to trek down to a small Ifugao community, a good 1 &1/2 km. away, trailing through steep steps and narrow rice paddle with a borrowed walking stick.
Banga-an was a typical Ifugao Community with 22 households and about 100 residents. We were received gladly by Conchita Biyo, a native who spoke fluent English. She was so kind as to even allow us to use the clothes she was selling for our picture-taking.
Nobody expected Mrs. Paz Lorque, 72 year old, to join us going down but she did and made it with flying colors though it made her realized her limitations and promised herself never again. The guide calculated that it would take us 30 minutes to go down and one hour to come back. I challenged myself and successfully returned in 15 minutes. An embrace of the tipsy Barangay Captain, Kinakin, received me.
We left Banga-an at 2:50 p.m. and reached the museum at 3:45 p.m. It housed artifacts and documents collected by H Offey Beyer, the anthropologist whose studies made Banaue and Ifugao culture known to the outside world. From the museum a road led to Hapao and Hangduan, with beautiful scenarios along the way. About 2 kms. Along Galang road we turned to Hiwang where we visited a beautifully preserved traditional “bale” that was replete with the skulls of sacrificial Carabao and other animals.
Our guide told us that the more skulls there were, the richer and more influential was the owner. We were entertained by the owner, Manuel Limangyan, the son and heir of the mummified couple, housed nearby in a smaller bale with glass walls donated by Lucio Tan. The mummified couple, were Apo Bay-Angan Limangyan who died on January 7, 1971 and Apo Pay-Yuga Limangyan who died on January 4, 1972.
According to son Manuel, it was their request that they be mummified. They were preserved through smoking for two weeks plus use of some herbs. But I was somehow disappointed as I was expecting corpse with dried flesh, not two skulls lying side by side with their bodies wrapped in colorful blankets. I think the correct terminology would be “skeletonized” and not mummified.
Nearby, there was a small circular area floored with well-arranged stones. It was the Amarig or Court of Apo Bay-Angan Limangyan. There, disputes were settled, and a banquet was held afterwards, attended by both opponents and friends.
AT 5:30 in the morning of April 15, 1998, I took a look at Tam-an, trekking down steep steps behind the Banaue Hotel. Still tired by the experience the day before, I did not go further.
During breakfast at Imbayan Restaurant we shared insights about our trip, and then went shopping at the Trade Center.
We ate our lunch at the Golden Rose Restaurant at Sta, Fe, Nueva Viscaya. It served good Chinese dishes. After lunch we bought beautifully made brooms. In Carmen, Pangasinan we bought some “pasalubongs” like “Tupig” and “Bukayo” before proceeding to Laharlandia in Bamban, Tarlac, almost failing to catch the sunlight at 6 :30 p.m.
I arrived home at 11:15 p.m.
As a tribute to my companions in this trip I want to make special mention of Mrs. Letty Meim who never got tired of sharing with us everything from candies to sandwiches and drinks. As organizer of the trip she did her job very well.
I am particularly impressed by Mrs. Paz Lorque, the 72 year old lady who joined us trekking down Banga-an and made It triumphantly. She always insisted on using the senior citizen’s 20% privilege card.
Mrs. Meding Kanapi was our official Rosary leader and very courteous listener who immensely enjoyed my jokes. Mrs. Luz Perea and Mrs. Terry Cruz showed dignity even in responding to brownish and greenish anecdotes.
Col. Rosendo Cruz was our official cheer leader and confident guardian. Nena Ong’s testimonies of healing through prayers were simply inspiring as well as Paul Meim’s youthful ideas and approaches to some almost neglected religious practices.
The presence of Daphni Ong, the teenage tourist daughter of Nena, prevented the expression of dirty jokes, while Gloria, Letty’s helper, was perfect for her job, from offering candies to supporting a hiker.
Henri Matiti, the driver was good as in “G“of his question, “Anong nasa gitna ng daGat?” Eloy Pineda, the guide, did well too. He twice fell flat on his face while attempting to give a joke but was saved by Paul Meim by quickly playing charismatic songs.
Like other trips organized by Letty Meim, this trip to Banaue was an Affair to Remember.
The Banaue Rice Terraces
April 13, 1998
One of the places that strongly obsessed me since I was a child was the Banuae Rice Terraces also called poetically as the Stairways to Heaven and considered by many as the Eight Wonder of the World. I was greatly exhilarated that at last through the nagging insistence of Mrs. Letty Meim, I finally had the chance of my lifetime to realize my obsession.
It was unfortunate though that my wife, Terry couldn’t join us due to several previous commitments. Jaime Leyran too, Letty’s brother who originally was scheduled to be my room companion but backed out at the eleventh hour.
So, together with ten others we proceeded as originally planned. I was still nursing the hangover of the three-hour –barefoot-walk during the Station of the Cross on Good Friday. I was picked at 4:00 a.m., then Endong and Terry Cruz before we finally went directly to the Heart Center where Nena Ong and daughter Daphni were waiting. It was 5:05 a.m.
We passed by Hacienda Luisita in Tarlac, which surprised me a bit. I didn’t expect to see an Ultra-modern Commercial Center where the conglomeration of all establishments and buildings was architecturally designed to simulate a small kingdom in Saudi Arabia.
After relieving ourselves at Jollibee we detoured to the Grotto of Our Lady of Rosales at Rosales, Pangasinan. Unlike other grottoes, this one was conspicuously located in the middle of a rice plantation along a main thoroughfare. I noticed that the people at the area were disciplined. No vendor or beggar approached us while at the Holy Place
As we went on, the guide pointed to us the drying Varabello Mountain Ranges.
We took our lunch at Marquez Restaurant at San Jose Nueva Ecija. After lunch, along the zig-zag road we were shown the Chico Dam basin. We also stopped and took some pictures at the Dalton Pass, (originally Balete Pass) at Sta. Fe, Nueva Viscaya.
After Bayombong and Solano we passed through the Cordillera Mountain Ranges and lamented at the sight of the barren and brown mountains. Result of the El Niño phenomenon. Along the highway from Tarlac I noticed that the people were more naïve-looking than in other places.
At around 3:30 p.m. we entered the ‘gate’ to the Eight Wonder of the World. I noticed the newly built houses with more advanced architectural designs. There were few isolated native Ifugao houses.
We reached Banaue Hotel at 4:56 p.m. I quickly posed for a picture in front of a miniature “Bale”, the native Ifugao house that I’ve been dying to see “personally”. Just for the experience we dined at Las Vegas Restaurant at the Trade Center, twenty minute walk from the Hotel.
What turned out to be one of my most touching experience was the mild tremor felt early at dawn of April 14, 1998. My watch showed 2:20 a.m. I was awakened fearing that a native ghost was playing with my bed. Paul Meim, my room mate was awakened too, possibly thinking that I was pushing his bed. He asked loudly: “Ano ba yan”?
Suddenly realizing that I was on top of the mountain and apprehensive about the possibility of a stronger tremor to follow I was quickly reminded of my mother’s Latin Prayer during moments of danger:“Sanctus Deus, Sanctus Potes, Sanctus Immortales, Miserere Nobis”
After the prayer I felt safe but my mind wondered. What if there were big dangers near the epicenter, wherever it was. Did my family feel the tremors too? Many other thoughts crossed my mind. I wasn’t able to sleep deeply ‘till morning.
Yes, there was no radio or T.V. or newspaper to relay any story about the tremor. The T.V. set at the lobby couldn’t receive signals from local channels. I suspected that perhaps “Bulol”, Ifugao’s god of rice and guardian of the Rice Terraces willed it that way to make our experience a bit more enchanting.
All at once I felt more enlightened about the fragility of life. That I was only one earthquake and one heartbeat away from eternity; that I was a mere simple being, given a chance to enjoy life that I mustn’t abuse.
The event reminded me of the crumbling of the Tower of Babel because of people’s pride. So, Banaue Rice Terraces, the stairways to heaven energized my spirituality. In the morning I woke up still hounded by the message of the tremor. I went around the hotel, all the time pondering about the mystic beauty of Banaue. Whoever brainchild the idea of the terraces must be a genius and as the guide Eloy later explained, was a Filipino that we should all be proud of .
After breakfast, we prepared for a more thrilling experience. We hired a jeepney to bring us to Banga-an, about 14 kms. From the hotel. The street was rough and narrow, curving along the mountainsides. One wrong maneuver of the driver could bring about disaster. An encounter with a vehicle coming from the opposite direction required a difficult mental calisthenics for which our driver, Manuel Atalba was an expert. My jeepney jokes somehow kept away our minds from the dangers of the trip.
We reached Banga-an at about noontime. It was a very picturesque village about 2 kms. From Batad junction along Maroyo road. We ate at Banga-an Family Inn and Restaurant before proceeding to trek down to a small Ifugao community, a good 1 &1/2 km. away, trailing through steep steps and narrow rice paddle with a borrowed walking stick.
Banga-an was a typical Ifugao Community with 22 households and about 100 residents. We were received gladly by Conchita Biyo, a native who spoke fluent English. She was so kind as to even allow us to use the clothes she was selling for our picture-taking.
Nobody expected Mrs. Paz Lorque, 72 year old, to join us going down but she did and made it with flying colors though it made her realized her limitations and promised herself never again. The guide calculated that it would take us 30 minutes to go down and one hour to come back. I challenged myself and successfully returned in 15 minutes. An embrace of the tipsy Barangay Captain, Kinakin, received me.
We left Banga-an at 2:50 p.m. and reached the museum at 3:45 p.m. It housed artifacts and documents collected by H Offey Beyer, the anthropologist whose studies made Banaue and Ifugao culture known to the outside world. From the museum a road led to Hapao and Hangduan, with beautiful scenarios along the way. About 2 kms. Along Galang road we turned to Hiwang where we visited a beautifully preserved traditional “bale” that was replete with the skulls of sacrificial Carabao and other animals.
Our guide told us that the more skulls there were, the richer and more influential was the owner. We were entertained by the owner, Manuel Limangyan, the son and heir of the mummified couple, housed nearby in a smaller bale with glass walls donated by Lucio Tan. The mummified couple, were Apo Bay-Angan Limangyan who died on January 7, 1971 and Apo Pay-Yuga Limangyan who died on January 4, 1972.
According to son Manuel, it was their request that they be mummified. They were preserved through smoking for two weeks plus use of some herbs. But I was somehow disappointed as I was expecting corpse with dried flesh, not two skulls lying side by side with their bodies wrapped in colorful blankets. I think the correct terminology would be “skeletonized” and not mummified.
Nearby, there was a small circular area floored with well-arranged stones. It was the Amarig or Court of Apo Bay-Angan Limangyan. There, disputes were settled, and a banquet was held afterwards, attended by both opponents and friends.
AT 5:30 in the morning of April 15, 1998, I took a look at Tam-an, trekking down steep steps behind the Banaue Hotel. Still tired by the experience the day before, I did not go further.
During breakfast at Imbayan Restaurant we shared insights about our trip, and then went shopping at the Trade Center.
We ate our lunch at the Golden Rose Restaurant at Sta, Fe, Nueva Viscaya. It served good Chinese dishes. After lunch we bought beautifully made brooms. In Carmen, Pangasinan we bought some “pasalubongs” like “Tupig” and “Bukayo” before proceeding to Laharlandia in Bamban, Tarlac, almost failing to catch the sunlight at 6 :30 p.m.
I arrived home at 11:15 p.m.
As a tribute to my companions in this trip I want to make special mention of Mrs. Letty Meim who never got tired of sharing with us everything from candies to sandwiches and drinks. As organizer of the trip she did her job very well.
I am particularly impressed by Mrs. Paz Lorque, the 72 year old lady who joined us trekking down Banga-an and made It triumphantly. She always insisted on using the senior citizen’s 20% privilege card.
Mrs. Meding Kanapi was our official Rosary leader and very courteous listener who immensely enjoyed my jokes. Mrs. Luz Perea and Mrs. Terry Cruz showed dignity even in responding to brownish and greenish anecdotes.
Col. Rosendo Cruz was our official cheer leader and confident guardian. Nena Ong’s testimonies of healing through prayers were simply inspiring as well as Paul Meim’s youthful ideas and approaches to some almost neglected religious practices.
The presence of Daphni Ong, the teenage tourist daughter of Nena, prevented the expression of dirty jokes, while Gloria, Letty’s helper, was perfect for her job, from offering candies to supporting a hiker.
Henri Matiti, the driver was good as in “G“of his question, “Anong nasa gitna ng daGat?” Eloy Pineda, the guide, did well too. He twice fell flat on his face while attempting to give a joke but was saved by Paul Meim by quickly playing charismatic songs.
Like other trips organized by Letty Meim, this trip to Banaue was an Affair to Remember.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
COMING BACK TO JAPAN
COMING BACK TO JAPAN
Monday, July 23, 2001
Early in the morning Peter and Mikee sent off Terry and me to Sydney airport for a trip to Japan via JL 0472. Paul did not join us, as he had to work early. During the rush I forgot my waist wallet where my camera and medicines were hidden.
In the airplane from Australia to Japan there were so many good-looking people that it was not surprising to see someone that looked like Elvis Presley or Bernardo Carpio or Brook Shield and other popular showbiz personalities. It was a very pleasant flight with all the smiling crew serving the passengers very kindly.
AT Narita Air port we met certain Mr. Maranan from U. S. who was going home to attend his parent’s Golden Wedding anniversary.
We stayed at Narita View Hot el, the same hotel we went to the last time we also stayed overnight in Japan for connecting flight . It was unfortunate that we did not even have a chance to join City Tour. All my addresses of friends in Japan were left in the waist wallet that I failed to bring from Sydney.
Tuesday, July 24, 2001: We woke up and prepared early for the air port. From Narita View Hotel to Terminal II, Narita Airport, clean-looking passengers were very attractive. I felt I could hygienically kiss and embrace any of them.
At the airport I noticed that most equipment was made for “little people”. Toilet bowls were small and low as well as the urinals. The chairs at the waiting lounge were also small and short-legged.
We met several coming home Filipinos. Our flight was delayed for thirty minutes.
Otan who flew directly from Australia arrived at around 7:00 p.m. We partook in a sumptuous dinner courtesy of our daughters. The two grand daughters were also there as well as Ken and Jogie.
It was a happy reunion after a fantastic, memorable, though somehow tiresome travel.
If there was anything our Australian escapades outstandingly contributed, it was the special bonding by our family. We discovered each other’s hidden potentials and genuine characteristics.
Life in Australia seemed too good especially among Filipinos who were doing well. Out of the plain curiosity I made a crude random interview asking this question: “If there is anything not good in Australia, what is it?”
One said it was the exorbitant tax, the other one answered it was the difficulty in caring for your young children. One responded that it was racism but most of them complain about loneliness. I told the Australians how impressed I was in the country, where discipline could be felt anywhere. Without hesitation he blasted aloud: “That is what you think”. There must be some relevant reason why one out of five Australians suffered from depression.
Anyway I look at it, my Australian experience was truly a memorable one but I still happily anticipate my return to the Philippines. Be it ever so messy, there is no country like my own.
I did not feel sad that Paul is now married. I did not lose a son, instead I gained a daughter. But he is also a full-pledge Australian citizen. That is what hurts me. He is no longer a Filipino. I don’t know how erroneous my patriotism is but that is just how I feel.
As I recall his wedding and the dizzying sways of the Pontoon during the reception, I was reminded of t he song “River of no return”.
There is a river, called the river of no return,
Sometimes it’s peaceful and sometimes wild and free.
Love is a trav’ler down t he river of no return,
Swift on forever to be lost on the stormy sea.
Wa-la-ri, I can hear the river call,
Where the rolling waters fall.
Wa-la-ri I can hear my love one call come to me.
I lost my love (son) in the river (Australia)
And forever my heart will yearn
And gone forever, down the river (country) of no return.
Wa-la-ri, wa-la-ri, shall never return to me.
Monday, July 23, 2001
Early in the morning Peter and Mikee sent off Terry and me to Sydney airport for a trip to Japan via JL 0472. Paul did not join us, as he had to work early. During the rush I forgot my waist wallet where my camera and medicines were hidden.
In the airplane from Australia to Japan there were so many good-looking people that it was not surprising to see someone that looked like Elvis Presley or Bernardo Carpio or Brook Shield and other popular showbiz personalities. It was a very pleasant flight with all the smiling crew serving the passengers very kindly.
AT Narita Air port we met certain Mr. Maranan from U. S. who was going home to attend his parent’s Golden Wedding anniversary.
We stayed at Narita View Hot el, the same hotel we went to the last time we also stayed overnight in Japan for connecting flight . It was unfortunate that we did not even have a chance to join City Tour. All my addresses of friends in Japan were left in the waist wallet that I failed to bring from Sydney.
Tuesday, July 24, 2001: We woke up and prepared early for the air port. From Narita View Hotel to Terminal II, Narita Airport, clean-looking passengers were very attractive. I felt I could hygienically kiss and embrace any of them.
At the airport I noticed that most equipment was made for “little people”. Toilet bowls were small and low as well as the urinals. The chairs at the waiting lounge were also small and short-legged.
We met several coming home Filipinos. Our flight was delayed for thirty minutes.
Otan who flew directly from Australia arrived at around 7:00 p.m. We partook in a sumptuous dinner courtesy of our daughters. The two grand daughters were also there as well as Ken and Jogie.
It was a happy reunion after a fantastic, memorable, though somehow tiresome travel.
If there was anything our Australian escapades outstandingly contributed, it was the special bonding by our family. We discovered each other’s hidden potentials and genuine characteristics.
Life in Australia seemed too good especially among Filipinos who were doing well. Out of the plain curiosity I made a crude random interview asking this question: “If there is anything not good in Australia, what is it?”
One said it was the exorbitant tax, the other one answered it was the difficulty in caring for your young children. One responded that it was racism but most of them complain about loneliness. I told the Australians how impressed I was in the country, where discipline could be felt anywhere. Without hesitation he blasted aloud: “That is what you think”. There must be some relevant reason why one out of five Australians suffered from depression.
Anyway I look at it, my Australian experience was truly a memorable one but I still happily anticipate my return to the Philippines. Be it ever so messy, there is no country like my own.
I did not feel sad that Paul is now married. I did not lose a son, instead I gained a daughter. But he is also a full-pledge Australian citizen. That is what hurts me. He is no longer a Filipino. I don’t know how erroneous my patriotism is but that is just how I feel.
As I recall his wedding and the dizzying sways of the Pontoon during the reception, I was reminded of t he song “River of no return”.
There is a river, called the river of no return,
Sometimes it’s peaceful and sometimes wild and free.
Love is a trav’ler down t he river of no return,
Swift on forever to be lost on the stormy sea.
Wa-la-ri, I can hear the river call,
Where the rolling waters fall.
Wa-la-ri I can hear my love one call come to me.
I lost my love (son) in the river (Australia)
And forever my heart will yearn
And gone forever, down the river (country) of no return.
Wa-la-ri, wa-la-ri, shall never return to me.
FOUR SEASON A DAY
FOUR SEASON A DAY
The Back to Sydney
Friday, July 20. 2001: It was early good morning weather but we seemed to have problem with our booking and it took us half a day fixing it.
Already tired and coughing Enee drive us to the City but it started to rain and we practically were not able to see anything as our itinerary was in complete disarray due to the booking problem with the Airplane. We encountered the heavy traffic at Ellerslie Penmure Highway.
While Terry and Enee were fixing our booking problems at the Thai Airways, Fe, Ochoc and I waited at St. Patrick Cathedral and had picture taken with Jesus Divine Workman. From there we went to the Food Gallery where Enee lost her Parking ticket and was fined 26 New Zealand dollars.
We planned to visit the Museum but the weather got worse so we decided to go home. Enee explained how New Zealand almost always experiences the four seasons daily. After going around places in spite of the rain, finally the weather calmed down and Enee brought us to Eastern Beach where we had our pictorial.
Saturday, July 21, 2001: Woke up early to go to the airport to catch the 7:00 a.m. flight to Sydney. Poor Enee had to wake up early too though she stayed late last night finishing her chores. In the Airplane I noticed the various passengers who were generally big but so different, yet, so similar. A traveler never gets used to what he sees.
A Swiss Musele was offered for lunch. It was like a mixture of “pinipig”, oatmeal and raisins together with egg and bacon, bread and fruits.
In the afternoon we w ere invited to the Birthday Party of Ninoy Juco, husband of Eden Salazar, at Rooty Hill Spoot Center. Terry and I, together with Paula, Mikee plus Otan attended the celebration. It was a common practice to share foods in every celebration and we went home with plenty of take home food.
Sunday, July 22, 2001: We at tended Mass at St. Michael Church at Lane Cove at 9:30 a.m. after the Mass Doti Luther called to invite us to dinner but we have to decline as we already have accepted an earlier invitation for a Lunch Party near Liverpool, specifically at Horning Sea Park. Earlier still I also talked to Benjie who also wanted to invite us.
It was supposedly a party for Mikee who was celebrating her 26th birthday. It was held at the residence of Tony and Liza Simbul, a very sweet and accommodating couple. Tony’s brother Orly and wife Carmen were also there with their only daughter.
The Policarpio family with the old Almedas together with Chino were also there. It was an informal but joyful occasion with Cris and Irene Sumera also present together with their three young daughters, the youngest of whom was also celebrating her 3rd birthday.
After lunch we enjoyed singing along with the Videoke. Vanessa and Paolo came later. We were back home at 9:30 p.m.
Earlier the two birthday celebrants shared cake but the younger celebrant after blowing her there candles wouldn’t leave her cake for the 27-year-old celebrant.
The Back to Sydney
Friday, July 20. 2001: It was early good morning weather but we seemed to have problem with our booking and it took us half a day fixing it.
Already tired and coughing Enee drive us to the City but it started to rain and we practically were not able to see anything as our itinerary was in complete disarray due to the booking problem with the Airplane. We encountered the heavy traffic at Ellerslie Penmure Highway.
While Terry and Enee were fixing our booking problems at the Thai Airways, Fe, Ochoc and I waited at St. Patrick Cathedral and had picture taken with Jesus Divine Workman. From there we went to the Food Gallery where Enee lost her Parking ticket and was fined 26 New Zealand dollars.
We planned to visit the Museum but the weather got worse so we decided to go home. Enee explained how New Zealand almost always experiences the four seasons daily. After going around places in spite of the rain, finally the weather calmed down and Enee brought us to Eastern Beach where we had our pictorial.
Saturday, July 21, 2001: Woke up early to go to the airport to catch the 7:00 a.m. flight to Sydney. Poor Enee had to wake up early too though she stayed late last night finishing her chores. In the Airplane I noticed the various passengers who were generally big but so different, yet, so similar. A traveler never gets used to what he sees.
A Swiss Musele was offered for lunch. It was like a mixture of “pinipig”, oatmeal and raisins together with egg and bacon, bread and fruits.
In the afternoon we w ere invited to the Birthday Party of Ninoy Juco, husband of Eden Salazar, at Rooty Hill Spoot Center. Terry and I, together with Paula, Mikee plus Otan attended the celebration. It was a common practice to share foods in every celebration and we went home with plenty of take home food.
Sunday, July 22, 2001: We at tended Mass at St. Michael Church at Lane Cove at 9:30 a.m. after the Mass Doti Luther called to invite us to dinner but we have to decline as we already have accepted an earlier invitation for a Lunch Party near Liverpool, specifically at Horning Sea Park. Earlier still I also talked to Benjie who also wanted to invite us.
It was supposedly a party for Mikee who was celebrating her 26th birthday. It was held at the residence of Tony and Liza Simbul, a very sweet and accommodating couple. Tony’s brother Orly and wife Carmen were also there with their only daughter.
The Policarpio family with the old Almedas together with Chino were also there. It was an informal but joyful occasion with Cris and Irene Sumera also present together with their three young daughters, the youngest of whom was also celebrating her 3rd birthday.
After lunch we enjoyed singing along with the Videoke. Vanessa and Paolo came later. We were back home at 9:30 p.m.
Earlier the two birthday celebrants shared cake but the younger celebrant after blowing her there candles wouldn’t leave her cake for the 27-year-old celebrant.
Monday, March 10, 2008
HELLO NEW ZEALAND
HELLO NEW ZEALAND
New Zealand was one of the countries I have always wanted to visit even if only for its verdant sceneries and climatic zones; for its attractions that were both challenging and tranquil. I want to see the ships and the cows and t he volcanic craters.
Wednesday, July 18, 2001: 6:00 a.m. Left for the airport with Ate Leng, Ate Oma, and Nicol to America. Toti and Yee to the Philippines; Terry and I to New Zealand via Air New Zealand flight 0102 (Anset Australia 8102). My first glimpse of New Zealand was from the aircraft as it approached Aukland. I saw the almost unbelievably green land, bordered by the sea curling around broken shorelines, thundering onto great stretches of desert beach, or idling peacefully into sheltered inlets and calm bays. Shiny metallic roofs unlike the red tiled roofs of Sydney, greeted us. The airport was quite strict with incoming passengers to the extent of making use of snipping dogs.
While waiting for Enee to pick us I enjoyed people-watching. Tall and big Samoans, huge white Australians, little Chinese people and relatively smaller, white, handsome and pretty New Zealanders. Prolonged embraces and deep sweet kisses among lovers was a very pretty common sight.
Enee got the wrong lane but it was a blessing because we immediately had a chance to pass by Hillsbarrough and saw the beautiful houses at the vicinity. Enee also pointed to us the One Tree Hill which was now more popularly known as the No Tree Hill since a naughty Samoan greatly injured the original tree that used to stand aloft at that hill. It had to be cut totally to prevent any accident.
We passed the Pakurangga area and saw the very popular Valentine restaurant, which was not impressive following Filipino standard f or eateries. Finally we arrived at Buckland State where the Pingols live. It did not take a long time for Enee’s handsome young boy Ochoc to feel at home with us.
Thursday July 19, 2001: This morning we joined Enee in bringing to school Arnie to McLean College, a popular and reputable school. But Enee lamented how expensive the school uniform was, not to mention that it was different during summer and winter. Weng was then accompanied to Buckland Primary School. Along the way I noticed that all garbage was out on the street borders as it always was every Thursday.
We then went to Musick Park, a beautiful Park that turned more impressive under the rain. We proceeded to Cornwall Park, supposed to be the biggest Park in Auckland that included One Tree Hill, a volcanic cone that provided a panoramic view of Auckland City, Up there was a memorial to Sir Logan Campbell, the “Father of Auckland” who was buried at the summit, not far from the obelisk that he raised in honor of the Maori race. There were ships and cows roaming around but Enee said they were relatively fewer due to the rains.
From One Tree Hill we passed through the Royal Oak, considered the most dangerous turnabout in Auckland. We then passed by the road to Mt. Albert and finally up to the summit of Mt. Eden, considered as Auckland’s highest point. It rose 196 meters above the city. From the summit one can now see the quiet volcanic crater and all the views in all directions over the city, including the Sky Tower, modern buildings to the right while to the left were thousands of residential houses.
Enee kindly brought us to the Botany Downs Shopping Center, considered the biggest in Asia/Australia but unfortunately no eating place except for Starbuck Coffee. It was where we bought give away candies when we return to the Philippines.
On the way home we passed by Howichs area where Chinese love to dwell that the place is now jokingly referred to as Chowicks. Enee also showed us another reputable college the Takurangga College.
New Zealand was one of the countries I have always wanted to visit even if only for its verdant sceneries and climatic zones; for its attractions that were both challenging and tranquil. I want to see the ships and the cows and t he volcanic craters.
Wednesday, July 18, 2001: 6:00 a.m. Left for the airport with Ate Leng, Ate Oma, and Nicol to America. Toti and Yee to the Philippines; Terry and I to New Zealand via Air New Zealand flight 0102 (Anset Australia 8102). My first glimpse of New Zealand was from the aircraft as it approached Aukland. I saw the almost unbelievably green land, bordered by the sea curling around broken shorelines, thundering onto great stretches of desert beach, or idling peacefully into sheltered inlets and calm bays. Shiny metallic roofs unlike the red tiled roofs of Sydney, greeted us. The airport was quite strict with incoming passengers to the extent of making use of snipping dogs.
While waiting for Enee to pick us I enjoyed people-watching. Tall and big Samoans, huge white Australians, little Chinese people and relatively smaller, white, handsome and pretty New Zealanders. Prolonged embraces and deep sweet kisses among lovers was a very pretty common sight.
Enee got the wrong lane but it was a blessing because we immediately had a chance to pass by Hillsbarrough and saw the beautiful houses at the vicinity. Enee also pointed to us the One Tree Hill which was now more popularly known as the No Tree Hill since a naughty Samoan greatly injured the original tree that used to stand aloft at that hill. It had to be cut totally to prevent any accident.
We passed the Pakurangga area and saw the very popular Valentine restaurant, which was not impressive following Filipino standard f or eateries. Finally we arrived at Buckland State where the Pingols live. It did not take a long time for Enee’s handsome young boy Ochoc to feel at home with us.
Thursday July 19, 2001: This morning we joined Enee in bringing to school Arnie to McLean College, a popular and reputable school. But Enee lamented how expensive the school uniform was, not to mention that it was different during summer and winter. Weng was then accompanied to Buckland Primary School. Along the way I noticed that all garbage was out on the street borders as it always was every Thursday.
We then went to Musick Park, a beautiful Park that turned more impressive under the rain. We proceeded to Cornwall Park, supposed to be the biggest Park in Auckland that included One Tree Hill, a volcanic cone that provided a panoramic view of Auckland City, Up there was a memorial to Sir Logan Campbell, the “Father of Auckland” who was buried at the summit, not far from the obelisk that he raised in honor of the Maori race. There were ships and cows roaming around but Enee said they were relatively fewer due to the rains.
From One Tree Hill we passed through the Royal Oak, considered the most dangerous turnabout in Auckland. We then passed by the road to Mt. Albert and finally up to the summit of Mt. Eden, considered as Auckland’s highest point. It rose 196 meters above the city. From the summit one can now see the quiet volcanic crater and all the views in all directions over the city, including the Sky Tower, modern buildings to the right while to the left were thousands of residential houses.
Enee kindly brought us to the Botany Downs Shopping Center, considered the biggest in Asia/Australia but unfortunately no eating place except for Starbuck Coffee. It was where we bought give away candies when we return to the Philippines.
On the way home we passed by Howichs area where Chinese love to dwell that the place is now jokingly referred to as Chowicks. Enee also showed us another reputable college the Takurangga College.
LAST FEW DAYS IN AUSTRALIA
LAST FEW DAYS IN AUSTRALIA
Sunday, July 8, 2001: From the Regent Sydney Hotel we checked out early and went to the Quay. Being a Sunday there were so many people walking here and there in their beautiful jackets, sweaters, and winter coats. We had a picture taken with a weird-looking man. The “metallic man ”fascinated me. He was painted with metallic silver all over, posing on a platform like a real statue with a caption in front: A donation will bring him to life. I dropped 50 cents and the statue started moving and touching me while Beth was capturing the drama on camera.
We then proceeded to the Royal Botanic Garden behind the Opera House. It was covering so big an area that we had to ride a trackless train to see some parts of it. After the Botanic Garden tour we ride a train up to St. Lenard where Otan picked us up.
Monday, July 9, 2001: It was very cold and with mild shower going on. We went to the Fox Studios at Moor’s Park. The most that we enjoyed there was the Titanic experience. After taking lunch we also watched Lights, Camera, and Chaos. Then we followed a TV tour, Costume tour, etc.
We went home in the afternoon with more sever colds. I stayed at home the following day while Toti and Cris went to Wonderland and Wildlife.
Saturday, July 14, 2001: After lunch Otan accompanied Oma, Yee, Toti and Beth to the City Market .That gave Terry and I a chance to be left at home. We were discussing how lucky we were indeed to have this chance to be traveling to different countries while even some rich families haven’t experienced.
I also had a chance to call Chato Esguerra and her sister Doti, Tita Ferolino, Mercy Baltazar, Eden Juco, Luz Rivera Ragano, Benjie Nicodemus and Elvie Diroy Volcavic who was residing at Melbourn
Chato and Doti promised to pick us up early in the morning tomorrow to bring us around the city.
Sunday, July 15 , 2001: Otan’s birthday but no special celebration. I called up Chato to confirm the plan yesterday. She in turn called her sister Doti who was residing at Lane Cove which was not far from Artarmon where my son was staying.
Doti brought us to Chato’s place in the west at Plauniton (part of Blacktown). Along the way after Lane Cove we passed by Ryde, the place where a few days ago, a Filipino Family (Gonzales) were massacred.
The Ryde Highway (M2) was rocky and surrounded by forest… very refreshing. We passed by Seven Hills, Blackwater, Rooty Hill. Planitton (Chato and Tita Ferolino’s place).
We were treated at Happy Inn Chinese Seafood Restaurant at Pentid then to Glendenning where Mercy Jimenez and husband George Baltazar were living in a beautiful Bungalow just like tat of Chato and Tita’s.
Before that we passed by Woodcreft, a new community of big beautiful houses where many Filipinos were residing. We also visited Eden Salazar and husband Ninoy Juco at Oakhurst.
Doti later brought us to her residence at Lane Cove. We were introduced t o her husband, Marty Luther IV and son, Marthy Luther V.
Before our trip this morning I had a chance to phone Elvie’Diroy Volcavic who was excited. She invited us to visit her at Melbourne. I also phoned Benjie Nicodemus but he was in Church. We didn’t have chance to hear Mass as Peter fetched Paul and Mikee from the airport. They were just back from honeymoon at New Zealand and Cook Island.
Monday, July 16, 2991: As I reviewed life in Australia I’ve got a mixed feeling. Outwardly, every thing looked so good but emotionally it could be a most depressing experience. Statistics showed that one out of five Australian got depressed.
I once asked Doti if she could cite to me one thing ‘not good’ in Australia and she didn’t hesitate in saying that it was the taxes… the government taxed everything exuberantly.
When I asked Chato what make her look so young and healthy she smilingly answered that it was the challenges that she gradually overcame. Australia to her was a challenge that taught her many lessons. She never considered before the many potentials that she possessed until she lived in Australia where she discovered how so many she could do. They were all pleasant discoveries. The gift of independent living was never possible in t he Philippines. There were so many things now that she could do which she never thought she was capable of doing when she was still in the Philippines. She looked so happy like her house mate, Tita Ferolino.
George and Mercy’s house was by all standards, beautiful, well kept but they said that deep in their hearts they still prefer to live in the Philippines. Probably it was because they have no child.
Aside from the right hand driving and the Keep Left traffic, I noted some other peculiarities like turning on switches downwards instead of upwards like what we do in the Philippines.
For busy people like my son Paul who was also earning good, Australia was a paradise but for the older ones like Terry and I, Australia could be hellish in the long run. In as far as I am concerned, considering everything, both the positive and the negative, Philippines is still my brand of Paradise.
Tuesday, July 12, 2001: This afternoon the family of Mikee Policarpio and the Almedas, had dinner with us the Aviñantes and the Costas .
It was a very informal dinner in a very informal atmosphere and informal topics of discussion, with Pancit, Sinigang and Fried Chicken.
Informal as it was, the dinner was a celebration of multiple significant occasions. It was get-together for the families of the newly married couple, a ‘despedida’ party for the Costas who were leaving the following day, a send-off for our trip to New Zealand and birthday celebrations both for Peter’s (July 15th and Mikees’ s (July 22nd).
Sunday, July 8, 2001: From the Regent Sydney Hotel we checked out early and went to the Quay. Being a Sunday there were so many people walking here and there in their beautiful jackets, sweaters, and winter coats. We had a picture taken with a weird-looking man. The “metallic man ”fascinated me. He was painted with metallic silver all over, posing on a platform like a real statue with a caption in front: A donation will bring him to life. I dropped 50 cents and the statue started moving and touching me while Beth was capturing the drama on camera.
We then proceeded to the Royal Botanic Garden behind the Opera House. It was covering so big an area that we had to ride a trackless train to see some parts of it. After the Botanic Garden tour we ride a train up to St. Lenard where Otan picked us up.
Monday, July 9, 2001: It was very cold and with mild shower going on. We went to the Fox Studios at Moor’s Park. The most that we enjoyed there was the Titanic experience. After taking lunch we also watched Lights, Camera, and Chaos. Then we followed a TV tour, Costume tour, etc.
We went home in the afternoon with more sever colds. I stayed at home the following day while Toti and Cris went to Wonderland and Wildlife.
Saturday, July 14, 2001: After lunch Otan accompanied Oma, Yee, Toti and Beth to the City Market .That gave Terry and I a chance to be left at home. We were discussing how lucky we were indeed to have this chance to be traveling to different countries while even some rich families haven’t experienced.
I also had a chance to call Chato Esguerra and her sister Doti, Tita Ferolino, Mercy Baltazar, Eden Juco, Luz Rivera Ragano, Benjie Nicodemus and Elvie Diroy Volcavic who was residing at Melbourn
Chato and Doti promised to pick us up early in the morning tomorrow to bring us around the city.
Sunday, July 15 , 2001: Otan’s birthday but no special celebration. I called up Chato to confirm the plan yesterday. She in turn called her sister Doti who was residing at Lane Cove which was not far from Artarmon where my son was staying.
Doti brought us to Chato’s place in the west at Plauniton (part of Blacktown). Along the way after Lane Cove we passed by Ryde, the place where a few days ago, a Filipino Family (Gonzales) were massacred.
The Ryde Highway (M2) was rocky and surrounded by forest… very refreshing. We passed by Seven Hills, Blackwater, Rooty Hill. Planitton (Chato and Tita Ferolino’s place).
We were treated at Happy Inn Chinese Seafood Restaurant at Pentid then to Glendenning where Mercy Jimenez and husband George Baltazar were living in a beautiful Bungalow just like tat of Chato and Tita’s.
Before that we passed by Woodcreft, a new community of big beautiful houses where many Filipinos were residing. We also visited Eden Salazar and husband Ninoy Juco at Oakhurst.
Doti later brought us to her residence at Lane Cove. We were introduced t o her husband, Marty Luther IV and son, Marthy Luther V.
Before our trip this morning I had a chance to phone Elvie’Diroy Volcavic who was excited. She invited us to visit her at Melbourne. I also phoned Benjie Nicodemus but he was in Church. We didn’t have chance to hear Mass as Peter fetched Paul and Mikee from the airport. They were just back from honeymoon at New Zealand and Cook Island.
Monday, July 16, 2991: As I reviewed life in Australia I’ve got a mixed feeling. Outwardly, every thing looked so good but emotionally it could be a most depressing experience. Statistics showed that one out of five Australian got depressed.
I once asked Doti if she could cite to me one thing ‘not good’ in Australia and she didn’t hesitate in saying that it was the taxes… the government taxed everything exuberantly.
When I asked Chato what make her look so young and healthy she smilingly answered that it was the challenges that she gradually overcame. Australia to her was a challenge that taught her many lessons. She never considered before the many potentials that she possessed until she lived in Australia where she discovered how so many she could do. They were all pleasant discoveries. The gift of independent living was never possible in t he Philippines. There were so many things now that she could do which she never thought she was capable of doing when she was still in the Philippines. She looked so happy like her house mate, Tita Ferolino.
George and Mercy’s house was by all standards, beautiful, well kept but they said that deep in their hearts they still prefer to live in the Philippines. Probably it was because they have no child.
Aside from the right hand driving and the Keep Left traffic, I noted some other peculiarities like turning on switches downwards instead of upwards like what we do in the Philippines.
For busy people like my son Paul who was also earning good, Australia was a paradise but for the older ones like Terry and I, Australia could be hellish in the long run. In as far as I am concerned, considering everything, both the positive and the negative, Philippines is still my brand of Paradise.
Tuesday, July 12, 2001: This afternoon the family of Mikee Policarpio and the Almedas, had dinner with us the Aviñantes and the Costas .
It was a very informal dinner in a very informal atmosphere and informal topics of discussion, with Pancit, Sinigang and Fried Chicken.
Informal as it was, the dinner was a celebration of multiple significant occasions. It was get-together for the families of the newly married couple, a ‘despedida’ party for the Costas who were leaving the following day, a send-off for our trip to New Zealand and birthday celebrations both for Peter’s (July 15th and Mikees’ s (July 22nd).
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