EXTENSION GUEST ROOM
Years ago when we renovated our provincial home we saw to it that each of our five children would have a room where they can do what they wish and enjoy the needed privacy. Aside from the four bedrooms already existing at the ground floor the new additional six that included one for us, their parents, we thought our house was roomy enough for the satisfaction of everyone. For the helpers we added a stockroom spacious enough for three persons plus the nearby nipa hut that could accommodate four persons, for the drivers of our children.
We did not foresee nor imagined that our children would eventually look for their partners in life, then have children of their own who would be needing yaya’s and other helpers too. One special occasion for gathering we suddenly found our ten bed rooms too crowded for comfort.
Hurriedly, we built an extension guest room in a small separate building. We modernized it somehow for our grandchildren to appreciate. Complete with Air con units , TV set , Refrigerator, Coffee maker, CD player, hot and cold water supply, bath tub and multiple showers it turned out very attractive enough not only to our family but more so to our guests as well. Friends suggested that we offer it for overnight lodging for a certain donation since we didn’t want to make a business out of it. A great idea quickly clicked on our minds.
For the reason that most of the time our children are in the city and do come home only on special holidays, we decided to offer our extension guest room for bed and breakfast service and ever since it was never idle. Small families, Friendly groups, Honeymooners do come and go. Now many are suggesting that we expand it or build additional units as people are getting more practical now.
Instead of crowding in the house during wakes, homecoming relatives (the Balikbayans) prefer to avail of a bed and breakfast service. Some are planning to hold small meetings and conferences.
Preparing and attending to guest could be very tiring but easily compensated by the joyous experience. Those who had a chance to stay in our extension guest room always want to come back. They are the ones who relay to other people about our accidental but very special service at a very affordable donation.
Now with two of our children based in Australia, one in Canada and two in Manila with their respective families, my wife and I are more often than not “alone” in our ancestral home. One room at the first floor formerly used by my sister who died lately was converted into a Biomat and Hypnotherapy Clinic. Another one was made a computer room while still another was being offered for rent for pre-wedding photo sessions. The idle Sala is also offered as a quiet and private area for amicable settlements.
The challenges of the activities we are doing at our old ancestral home and the extension guest room are like a potent potion as if taken from the fountain of youth that keeps us young and energetic at an age when others of our ages are either already dead or dying.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
HONEYMOONER'S WORLD
HONEYMOONER’S WORLD
My 19 year old pretty neighbor got married to a Syrian national. It was a simple wedding officiated by a Judge in Quezon City. The reception that followed was simple too: Beef, chicken and ‘no pork’ please. It was complete with fruit salad and other desserts.
As a gift to them my wife and I offered our extension guest house for their honeymoon. My newly married neighbor who is also my niece hesitated first but later realized it’s practicality considering that it was located just at the other side of the fence from her house.
As I am writing this, it is now 11:45 a.m. and the newly weds have not shown signs that they needed breakfast. I don’t know if I will prepare lunch as honeymooners are unpredictable. They could stay together for a whole day without being affected by their other biological needs such as their primitive urge to eat or to drink. Those are not important to them.
What only matters to them actually is their newly found world. A world without food, a world without water, or without other amenities… just a mystical world with each other. Honeymooners must be deaf too, because the Karaoke is playing deafeningly loud from the bride’s house and they seem so unconcerned as if they hear nothing at all. Meantime I don’t know what to do. I cannot go to the Netcafe to open my internet accounts, I don’t know what to prepare. I wonder if they would even need to lunch.
Honeymooners are interesting people. They seem to be out of their minds and out of this world, yet their world is celestial in nature, never mind if the groom is a Muslim and the bride, a Christian – they are enjoying a kind of heavenly bliss, seemingly endless, simply eternal.
Any body who could invent a chemical or a drink concoction that when taken could keep a honeymooner’s feeling for a long, long time, that there would no longer be war or misunderstandings as every one has only to take the honeymooner’s pill to feel perpetually in honeymoon even with his enemies, would easily be very rich.
As I am contemplating on the honeymooners now in my extension guest house I am beginning to experience a nostalgic memory of my own honeymoon. No one offered us a guest house honeymoon gift because ours was a whirlwind wedding… we simply and quietly eloped. That was long ago… thirty eight years to be exact. We didn’t experience the ecstasy of a honeymooner’s world but our own created world was like a very different kind of galaxy uniquely different from anyone’s experience in the past, in the present and possibly in the future.
My 19 year old pretty neighbor got married to a Syrian national. It was a simple wedding officiated by a Judge in Quezon City. The reception that followed was simple too: Beef, chicken and ‘no pork’ please. It was complete with fruit salad and other desserts.
As a gift to them my wife and I offered our extension guest house for their honeymoon. My newly married neighbor who is also my niece hesitated first but later realized it’s practicality considering that it was located just at the other side of the fence from her house.
As I am writing this, it is now 11:45 a.m. and the newly weds have not shown signs that they needed breakfast. I don’t know if I will prepare lunch as honeymooners are unpredictable. They could stay together for a whole day without being affected by their other biological needs such as their primitive urge to eat or to drink. Those are not important to them.
What only matters to them actually is their newly found world. A world without food, a world without water, or without other amenities… just a mystical world with each other. Honeymooners must be deaf too, because the Karaoke is playing deafeningly loud from the bride’s house and they seem so unconcerned as if they hear nothing at all. Meantime I don’t know what to do. I cannot go to the Netcafe to open my internet accounts, I don’t know what to prepare. I wonder if they would even need to lunch.
Honeymooners are interesting people. They seem to be out of their minds and out of this world, yet their world is celestial in nature, never mind if the groom is a Muslim and the bride, a Christian – they are enjoying a kind of heavenly bliss, seemingly endless, simply eternal.
Any body who could invent a chemical or a drink concoction that when taken could keep a honeymooner’s feeling for a long, long time, that there would no longer be war or misunderstandings as every one has only to take the honeymooner’s pill to feel perpetually in honeymoon even with his enemies, would easily be very rich.
As I am contemplating on the honeymooners now in my extension guest house I am beginning to experience a nostalgic memory of my own honeymoon. No one offered us a guest house honeymoon gift because ours was a whirlwind wedding… we simply and quietly eloped. That was long ago… thirty eight years to be exact. We didn’t experience the ecstasy of a honeymooner’s world but our own created world was like a very different kind of galaxy uniquely different from anyone’s experience in the past, in the present and possibly in the future.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
LIFE THAT WE NEVER LIKE
LIFE THAT WE NEVER LIKE
We never desired to be born but we were born. It was not our wish to die, yet, surely we are going to die. In between this undesired birth and unwished death is what we call life that we are supposed to enjoy.
How can we actually enjoy what we never wish nor desire? Life is that difficult to comprehend and there are those who get so lost in the jungle of unlike experiences that they decide to commit suicide.
Life’s maze is never easy to fathom. In our desire to find the end to successfully get out, we bump left and right, turn around or change route many times. Those who walk the path calmly finds the way easily and triumphantly.
Life’s maze, however, is not only a path to walk because along the pathway are concave and convex mirrors that confusingly reflect your image to turn either too large or too small, not to mention that mirror images are the reverse reflections of yourself. What is left turns out right and what is right turns out left.
Added to this puzzling maze and dizzying mirror reflections are many different kinds of obstacles that puff-up at no particular point and time. If you are not smart enough those obstacles will greatly make your course many times more difficult.
The secret is to keep your focus. Keep your head up since when you lose your head, you lose your senses and your target which is to get out of life’s maze not necessarily unhurt but whole.
Successfully getting out of the maze gives you a tremendous sense of victory and a feeling that after all the things you don’t like in life are the things that makes your life worth living and desirable. You now feel fulfilled and wish to die with dignity.
If you shall be given another chance to live again you shall still desire to be who you are because your life has been wonderful. Whoever said that “Life is what we make it”, must have succeeded in coming out of life’s maze.
We never desired to be born but we were born. It was not our wish to die, yet, surely we are going to die. In between this undesired birth and unwished death is what we call life that we are supposed to enjoy.
How can we actually enjoy what we never wish nor desire? Life is that difficult to comprehend and there are those who get so lost in the jungle of unlike experiences that they decide to commit suicide.
Life’s maze is never easy to fathom. In our desire to find the end to successfully get out, we bump left and right, turn around or change route many times. Those who walk the path calmly finds the way easily and triumphantly.
Life’s maze, however, is not only a path to walk because along the pathway are concave and convex mirrors that confusingly reflect your image to turn either too large or too small, not to mention that mirror images are the reverse reflections of yourself. What is left turns out right and what is right turns out left.
Added to this puzzling maze and dizzying mirror reflections are many different kinds of obstacles that puff-up at no particular point and time. If you are not smart enough those obstacles will greatly make your course many times more difficult.
The secret is to keep your focus. Keep your head up since when you lose your head, you lose your senses and your target which is to get out of life’s maze not necessarily unhurt but whole.
Successfully getting out of the maze gives you a tremendous sense of victory and a feeling that after all the things you don’t like in life are the things that makes your life worth living and desirable. You now feel fulfilled and wish to die with dignity.
If you shall be given another chance to live again you shall still desire to be who you are because your life has been wonderful. Whoever said that “Life is what we make it”, must have succeeded in coming out of life’s maze.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
JOHN OPUTA OTUTU
JOHN 0PUTA 0TUTU
Excerpts from my Nigerian Diary
6 November 78: I was off duty and have nothing to do, so, I decided to pay John Oputa Otutu a visit. John was a 23 year old Nigerian Male who was then studying at a London University. He was afflicted by a kind of depression and according to his mother Mrs. Cole, he was at times not himself. He was referred to psychiatrists who declared him physically and mentally fit.
The mother feared that her son was being possessed by the devil so he consulted Rev. Fr. Dennis Slattery for possible exorcism but the priest referred him to me for possible Hypnotherapy. That was how I came to know Mrs. Cole and her son John.
In short John became indirectly my patient and by all indications he was already showing signs of improvement (without hypnotherapy yet, which I thought was not at all necessary). All he needed was an understanding friend that he found in me).
This afternoon I also decided to say hello to Prince I.J. Obadia whose son was treated by me twice at Massy Street Children’s Hospital. The Prince was not here so to kill time I talked to his boss, Theo O.B. Owolabi, the Managing Director of the Blessed Owo Group of Companies. Theo was friendly and very accommodating like managers should be. He liked my sense of humor so we immediately clicked. While I was there, came a lady selling writing pens made in England, complete with stamping pad, etc. I was not interested because it cost 25 Naira, equivalent to 250 pesos. So while the two were talking I just started folding papers creating a Christmas lantern through origami.
Theo noticed what I was doing and asked what it was. I said I was creating something for him. He looked fascinated specially when I hang the lantern under his electric fan with a suggestion never to remove it as it was my “trademark”. He became more interested in me and the next thing I knew he was ordering one 25 Naira worth of pen for me. Indirectly I sold my paper lantern for 25 Naira. This gimmick of mine was always very effective and I have been doing this for more than a month now. I found it to be a perfect way of persuading taxi drivers and making friends with the other Nigerians because they were easily fascinated. Indirectly I have been selling these lanterns to taxi drivers at an average of one Naira each. I have earned and save a lot of money for that. When I left Nigeria there were about 200 taxis hanging my paper lantern and none of them charge me when I hired a taxi. Even the car of the Minister of Health was decorated with my lantern that I gave him when I followed up something at the Ministry of Health one time.
Excerpts from my Nigerian Diary
6 November 78: I was off duty and have nothing to do, so, I decided to pay John Oputa Otutu a visit. John was a 23 year old Nigerian Male who was then studying at a London University. He was afflicted by a kind of depression and according to his mother Mrs. Cole, he was at times not himself. He was referred to psychiatrists who declared him physically and mentally fit.
The mother feared that her son was being possessed by the devil so he consulted Rev. Fr. Dennis Slattery for possible exorcism but the priest referred him to me for possible Hypnotherapy. That was how I came to know Mrs. Cole and her son John.
In short John became indirectly my patient and by all indications he was already showing signs of improvement (without hypnotherapy yet, which I thought was not at all necessary). All he needed was an understanding friend that he found in me).
This afternoon I also decided to say hello to Prince I.J. Obadia whose son was treated by me twice at Massy Street Children’s Hospital. The Prince was not here so to kill time I talked to his boss, Theo O.B. Owolabi, the Managing Director of the Blessed Owo Group of Companies. Theo was friendly and very accommodating like managers should be. He liked my sense of humor so we immediately clicked. While I was there, came a lady selling writing pens made in England, complete with stamping pad, etc. I was not interested because it cost 25 Naira, equivalent to 250 pesos. So while the two were talking I just started folding papers creating a Christmas lantern through origami.
Theo noticed what I was doing and asked what it was. I said I was creating something for him. He looked fascinated specially when I hang the lantern under his electric fan with a suggestion never to remove it as it was my “trademark”. He became more interested in me and the next thing I knew he was ordering one 25 Naira worth of pen for me. Indirectly I sold my paper lantern for 25 Naira. This gimmick of mine was always very effective and I have been doing this for more than a month now. I found it to be a perfect way of persuading taxi drivers and making friends with the other Nigerians because they were easily fascinated. Indirectly I have been selling these lanterns to taxi drivers at an average of one Naira each. I have earned and save a lot of money for that. When I left Nigeria there were about 200 taxis hanging my paper lantern and none of them charge me when I hired a taxi. Even the car of the Minister of Health was decorated with my lantern that I gave him when I followed up something at the Ministry of Health one time.
Friday, August 15, 2008
FRUSTRATION
FRUSTRATION
I hate to think negatively but I am surrounded by many frustrations. I think I am a frustrated teacher. The urge to teach is so deeply ingrained in my system, always trying to find an outlet. Whenever I have a chance, and the occasion permits, I teach whether in a restaurant or inside the bus or at the malls. I felt very good whenever I have a chance to impart or share what I think is correct or right to any body that needs it.
I believe I am also a frustrated patriot. My Boy Scout instinct is always ready to be shared. I used to bring a tiny bottle with cotton buds soak in spirit of ammonia just in case anybody faints or collapses in any place where I also happens to be around. I am often misunderstood by people who do not know me.
What I really feel so revolting though is when I see wrongly displayed Filipino Flag whether on the wall of a big building or on top of a Veteran’s coffin. I am nauseated by parade of beauties with their escorts on the wrong side. But most especially I hate to see historically erroneous landmarks.
To give way to my obsessions I have a ready lecture on Love and Relationship that I always share to young boys and girls whenever I have time. I also have ready data about history and culture of my town ready to share to students, researchers and writers.
That way I keep myself busy while enjoying what I am doing. For a while I had a chance to teach in high school and in college. Those were my most enjoyable and memorable experiences more so when I meet former students telling good things about me.
But I am also a frustrated healer. Eaten by the system of routine medical practice I also indulged in the regular textbook approach in the treatment of ailments until I realized too late that I should have attended more thoroughly in the treatment of the person as a whole and not just the complaints. In the later part of my medical practice I did not follow the routine approach to suffering patients. I saw to it that I treat the person as a person and not only a sick part of his body. Before prescribing drugs left and right I always consider the possible side effects on the patients which usually are worse than the original complaints.
I am against heroic measures and dramatic treatment results if I know that in the end the wholeness of the patients is jeopardized.
As a consistent patriot, teacher and healer, I am greatly misunderstood. But I am not complaining, though I am greatly frustrated. But this kind of frustration never lured me into leaving my country. What is greatly lamentable is my being frustrated as a Filipino who is unable to do anything to correct the wrongs that many Filipinos are doing. Behind all these frustrations is a very special kind of victory that I can enjoy and be proud of for the rest of my life
I hate to think negatively but I am surrounded by many frustrations. I think I am a frustrated teacher. The urge to teach is so deeply ingrained in my system, always trying to find an outlet. Whenever I have a chance, and the occasion permits, I teach whether in a restaurant or inside the bus or at the malls. I felt very good whenever I have a chance to impart or share what I think is correct or right to any body that needs it.
I believe I am also a frustrated patriot. My Boy Scout instinct is always ready to be shared. I used to bring a tiny bottle with cotton buds soak in spirit of ammonia just in case anybody faints or collapses in any place where I also happens to be around. I am often misunderstood by people who do not know me.
What I really feel so revolting though is when I see wrongly displayed Filipino Flag whether on the wall of a big building or on top of a Veteran’s coffin. I am nauseated by parade of beauties with their escorts on the wrong side. But most especially I hate to see historically erroneous landmarks.
To give way to my obsessions I have a ready lecture on Love and Relationship that I always share to young boys and girls whenever I have time. I also have ready data about history and culture of my town ready to share to students, researchers and writers.
That way I keep myself busy while enjoying what I am doing. For a while I had a chance to teach in high school and in college. Those were my most enjoyable and memorable experiences more so when I meet former students telling good things about me.
But I am also a frustrated healer. Eaten by the system of routine medical practice I also indulged in the regular textbook approach in the treatment of ailments until I realized too late that I should have attended more thoroughly in the treatment of the person as a whole and not just the complaints. In the later part of my medical practice I did not follow the routine approach to suffering patients. I saw to it that I treat the person as a person and not only a sick part of his body. Before prescribing drugs left and right I always consider the possible side effects on the patients which usually are worse than the original complaints.
I am against heroic measures and dramatic treatment results if I know that in the end the wholeness of the patients is jeopardized.
As a consistent patriot, teacher and healer, I am greatly misunderstood. But I am not complaining, though I am greatly frustrated. But this kind of frustration never lured me into leaving my country. What is greatly lamentable is my being frustrated as a Filipino who is unable to do anything to correct the wrongs that many Filipinos are doing. Behind all these frustrations is a very special kind of victory that I can enjoy and be proud of for the rest of my life
Friday, August 8, 2008
THE CHURCH BELLS OF ALFONSO
THE CHURCH BELLS
These church bells are in many ways unique.They always catch the attention of visitors coming to town. Nowhere else in the Philippines could one find or hear as loud and penetrating sounds as those emitted by the bells of Alfonso. It was Rev. Fr. Candido Valles who first called the attention of the town people to the need for having bells. He called the prominent parishioners, some of whom were ex-town officials, and they agreed on a plan to raise funds.
As planned they invited musicians and some known singers in the municipality to go serenading around town. The serenader went from house to house followed by a cart. While the musicians and singers sung and played, the priest and a group of prominent citizens entered the granary (kamalig) of each house to haul sacks of coffee. These were loaded in the cart. Everybody gave his share. The collections were placed in a big “kamalig” in the churchyard and were later sold. A big amount was realized from the sales, which was used to buy the best bells from Spain.
At one time a certain priest planned to sell the small bells in order to earn money for the repair of the Church but the people protested. The plan had to be scrapped. At present the historical bells still hang on the tower, as mush a part of the town as the people themselves. The unique sounds are heard daily at 5:00 in the morning to announce the first mass; then at 10:00 a.m. to remind the housewives that it is time to cook. The next is at 12:00 noon to announce lunchtime; then at 2:00 p.m., bells ring again indicating siesta period of break from work, then at 6:00 p. m., the bells sing their final songs reminding the faithful to go into a minute of silent prayer (oracion or angelus). Formerly, bells also rung at 8:00 p. m. to remind the Christians to pray for the departed but when the “campanero”, Mang Juan Varias got blind, he was not allowed to climb the tower to ring the bells at night.
On joyful occasions or celebrations, one can hear the bells tingling with their own kind of laughter, as they “iskela”. But on sad occasions as when someone dies, one can also feel the crying and the moaning of the bells as the “agunias” and the “plegaria” are being played.
Old folks love to tell the story of a legendary bell which was so huge that the sounds could create vibrations enough to a cause a pregnant woman to abort. The bell was said to be buried somewhere in the vicinity of the present Church. However, no one can pinpoint the supposed location; it could be a very useful aid in the control of population explosion.
An old woman told the author though, that there was no such big bell for if there was why should it be buried when it could easily be ordered not to ring it if causes abortion.
From the book TINGKORAW: Alfonso's History and Legend by jett e. avinante, m.d.
These church bells are in many ways unique.They always catch the attention of visitors coming to town. Nowhere else in the Philippines could one find or hear as loud and penetrating sounds as those emitted by the bells of Alfonso. It was Rev. Fr. Candido Valles who first called the attention of the town people to the need for having bells. He called the prominent parishioners, some of whom were ex-town officials, and they agreed on a plan to raise funds.
As planned they invited musicians and some known singers in the municipality to go serenading around town. The serenader went from house to house followed by a cart. While the musicians and singers sung and played, the priest and a group of prominent citizens entered the granary (kamalig) of each house to haul sacks of coffee. These were loaded in the cart. Everybody gave his share. The collections were placed in a big “kamalig” in the churchyard and were later sold. A big amount was realized from the sales, which was used to buy the best bells from Spain.
At one time a certain priest planned to sell the small bells in order to earn money for the repair of the Church but the people protested. The plan had to be scrapped. At present the historical bells still hang on the tower, as mush a part of the town as the people themselves. The unique sounds are heard daily at 5:00 in the morning to announce the first mass; then at 10:00 a.m. to remind the housewives that it is time to cook. The next is at 12:00 noon to announce lunchtime; then at 2:00 p.m., bells ring again indicating siesta period of break from work, then at 6:00 p. m., the bells sing their final songs reminding the faithful to go into a minute of silent prayer (oracion or angelus). Formerly, bells also rung at 8:00 p. m. to remind the Christians to pray for the departed but when the “campanero”, Mang Juan Varias got blind, he was not allowed to climb the tower to ring the bells at night.
On joyful occasions or celebrations, one can hear the bells tingling with their own kind of laughter, as they “iskela”. But on sad occasions as when someone dies, one can also feel the crying and the moaning of the bells as the “agunias” and the “plegaria” are being played.
Old folks love to tell the story of a legendary bell which was so huge that the sounds could create vibrations enough to a cause a pregnant woman to abort. The bell was said to be buried somewhere in the vicinity of the present Church. However, no one can pinpoint the supposed location; it could be a very useful aid in the control of population explosion.
An old woman told the author though, that there was no such big bell for if there was why should it be buried when it could easily be ordered not to ring it if causes abortion.
From the book TINGKORAW: Alfonso's History and Legend by jett e. avinante, m.d.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
TATLONG WALO
TATLONG WALO
08-08-08
Petsa tatlong walo’y minsan lang dumating,
Mas’werte raw ito’t may hiwagang lihim:
Masarap na ngayo’y pagmuni-muniin,
Istorya ng buhay na kagiliw-giliw.
Ngayong nag-iisa sa matandang bahay,
Malungkot, masayang ginugunamgunam.
Mga nakaraa’y pinagmumunian
At kasalukuya ‘y kinatututwaan.
Wala na ang araw ng kawalang malay,
Masayang panahon noong kabataan.
Pangamba at takot ang tanging naiwan…
Ano kayang dulot ng nalabing buhay?
Salamat sa Diyos ako’y malakas pa,
Sa katandaan ko’y kaya kong mag-isa.
Tanging libangan ko’y hardin ko tuwina
Na tanging pasyalan sa bawat umaga.
Ang mahal kong irog laging nasa lunsod,
At sa kasipaga’y ayaw magpatihod.
Kapag wala siyang ginagawang lubos,
Lalong nanghihina, laging nalulungkot.
Tagumpay rin naming kaming mag-asawa,
Sa pagmamagulang kami ay tapos na.
Ibang anak nami’y mayron ng pamilya
Maliban sa bunsong ngayo’y binata pa.
Gano man kalaki ang isang tahanan,
Ilan man ang doon ay naninirahan
Nagkakalayo rin at naghihiwalay,
Nagbubukod-bukod pagdating ng araw.
Di ko naman nais na sila’y pigilin
Sa pag-unlad nila at mga mithiin.
Kaya kung ano man ang kanilang gawin,
Pinapayagan ko’t hindi pinipigil.
Kaya naman ako ngayo’y nag-iisa
Sa matandang bahay dito sa probinsya.
Dating kasama kong matandang dalaga
Ay naging sakitin at namayapa na.
Tikatik ang ulan, minsa’y kumikidlat ,
May bagyo at kulog may hanging habagat.
Kaya naman ako minsa’y nagugulat –
Larawan ng buhay: May saklap at galak.
Nalulungkot ako kapag ninanamnam,
Paglapit ng buhay sa huling hantungan.
Nguni’t natutuwang malapit ng kamtan
Ang langit na handog ng Poong Maykapal.
Marami sa dating mga kasama ko
Ang nagsipanaw na’t lumisan sa mundo.
Ako’y nagtataka: Bakit kaya ako
Ay naririto pa? Ano ang misyon ko?
Sa pitumpo’t tatlo na edad ko ngayon
Anong magagawa at maitutugon
Sa tanong ng buhay, hamon ng panahon?
Mayron pa nga kaya? Kung mayron, ano yon?
Mga kabataan ay ibang-iba na,
Iwas sa matanda’t may isip na kanya.
Ilag na sa payo at akala nila,
Hiwaga ng mundo ay natatarok na .
Puro matatapang, mga makukulit
Sa konting pag puna’y agad magagalit .
Bakit naging ganyan ang maraming paslit?
Kung sinong nagkulang ay di ko malirilp.
Nagpabaya mandin ang mga magulang ,
Nagkulang din naman ang pamahalaan,
Dapat ding sisihin ibang paaralan
At kasama na rin pati ang simbahan.
Sa ganitong anyo ng bagong panahon,
Di ko na matarok ang dapat kong misyon.
Kaya kapag ako’y may pagkakataon,
Ibinabahagi ang kayang pagtulong.
Sa paminsan-minsan at paisa-isa
Na pakikialam ako’y maligaya.
Kung may isang buhay na maisasalba,
Misyon ko’y tagumpay, sadyang mahalaga.
Sa konting panahong sa ‘ki’y nalalabi,
Nakahanda akong ito’y ibahagi.
Kung ang aking tulong ay makabubuti,
Di ko itata go sa aking sarili.
Ako’y nag –iisa nguni’t isa pa rin.
Munting kakayaha’y di sariling akin:
Ito’y ipupunla’t aking didiligin
Upang lumabonos at magbungang tambing.
At kung maganap na itong aking misyon –
Handa ng bumalik sa ‘king Panginoon.
Taas noo akong haharap sa Poon…
“Tapos na Bathala ang aking panahon”.
jett e. aviñante, m.d.
08-08-08
Petsa tatlong walo’y minsan lang dumating,
Mas’werte raw ito’t may hiwagang lihim:
Masarap na ngayo’y pagmuni-muniin,
Istorya ng buhay na kagiliw-giliw.
Ngayong nag-iisa sa matandang bahay,
Malungkot, masayang ginugunamgunam.
Mga nakaraa’y pinagmumunian
At kasalukuya ‘y kinatututwaan.
Wala na ang araw ng kawalang malay,
Masayang panahon noong kabataan.
Pangamba at takot ang tanging naiwan…
Ano kayang dulot ng nalabing buhay?
Salamat sa Diyos ako’y malakas pa,
Sa katandaan ko’y kaya kong mag-isa.
Tanging libangan ko’y hardin ko tuwina
Na tanging pasyalan sa bawat umaga.
Ang mahal kong irog laging nasa lunsod,
At sa kasipaga’y ayaw magpatihod.
Kapag wala siyang ginagawang lubos,
Lalong nanghihina, laging nalulungkot.
Tagumpay rin naming kaming mag-asawa,
Sa pagmamagulang kami ay tapos na.
Ibang anak nami’y mayron ng pamilya
Maliban sa bunsong ngayo’y binata pa.
Gano man kalaki ang isang tahanan,
Ilan man ang doon ay naninirahan
Nagkakalayo rin at naghihiwalay,
Nagbubukod-bukod pagdating ng araw.
Di ko naman nais na sila’y pigilin
Sa pag-unlad nila at mga mithiin.
Kaya kung ano man ang kanilang gawin,
Pinapayagan ko’t hindi pinipigil.
Kaya naman ako ngayo’y nag-iisa
Sa matandang bahay dito sa probinsya.
Dating kasama kong matandang dalaga
Ay naging sakitin at namayapa na.
Tikatik ang ulan, minsa’y kumikidlat ,
May bagyo at kulog may hanging habagat.
Kaya naman ako minsa’y nagugulat –
Larawan ng buhay: May saklap at galak.
Nalulungkot ako kapag ninanamnam,
Paglapit ng buhay sa huling hantungan.
Nguni’t natutuwang malapit ng kamtan
Ang langit na handog ng Poong Maykapal.
Marami sa dating mga kasama ko
Ang nagsipanaw na’t lumisan sa mundo.
Ako’y nagtataka: Bakit kaya ako
Ay naririto pa? Ano ang misyon ko?
Sa pitumpo’t tatlo na edad ko ngayon
Anong magagawa at maitutugon
Sa tanong ng buhay, hamon ng panahon?
Mayron pa nga kaya? Kung mayron, ano yon?
Mga kabataan ay ibang-iba na,
Iwas sa matanda’t may isip na kanya.
Ilag na sa payo at akala nila,
Hiwaga ng mundo ay natatarok na .
Puro matatapang, mga makukulit
Sa konting pag puna’y agad magagalit .
Bakit naging ganyan ang maraming paslit?
Kung sinong nagkulang ay di ko malirilp.
Nagpabaya mandin ang mga magulang ,
Nagkulang din naman ang pamahalaan,
Dapat ding sisihin ibang paaralan
At kasama na rin pati ang simbahan.
Sa ganitong anyo ng bagong panahon,
Di ko na matarok ang dapat kong misyon.
Kaya kapag ako’y may pagkakataon,
Ibinabahagi ang kayang pagtulong.
Sa paminsan-minsan at paisa-isa
Na pakikialam ako’y maligaya.
Kung may isang buhay na maisasalba,
Misyon ko’y tagumpay, sadyang mahalaga.
Sa konting panahong sa ‘ki’y nalalabi,
Nakahanda akong ito’y ibahagi.
Kung ang aking tulong ay makabubuti,
Di ko itata go sa aking sarili.
Ako’y nag –iisa nguni’t isa pa rin.
Munting kakayaha’y di sariling akin:
Ito’y ipupunla’t aking didiligin
Upang lumabonos at magbungang tambing.
At kung maganap na itong aking misyon –
Handa ng bumalik sa ‘king Panginoon.
Taas noo akong haharap sa Poon…
“Tapos na Bathala ang aking panahon”.
jett e. aviñante, m.d.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
St. John Nepomucene's Church
THE CHURCH OF SAINT JOHN NEPOMUCENE
It was as early as year 1875 when the reigning Gobernadorcillo, Herminigildo Aviñante first suggested to build a stronger church building in exchange for the existing nipa hut chapel. The suggestion was only accomplished in the early years of 1883 when the construction of a stronger church was started when the Parish Priest was Rev. Fr.Candido Valles. The Church was finished after four years during the time of Rev.Fr. Juan Gonzales.
It was built by Filipino and Chinese carpenters but it was greatly destroyed by a strong typhoon in December, 1926.
The ruins were used by the Guerilla Soldiers as hiding place during the Japanese occupation. It was converted into a poultry house after the liberation.
Through the efforts of Rev. Fr. Jose Rementilla, Jr. in 1954, the ruins were rebuilt and renovated with the funding from donations and from the amount gathered from the sales of the lots at the right and back portions of the church’s lot.
During the time of Rev. Fr. Avelino Sapida, with the help of the then very active Cursillistas the interior of the church was renovated. A new altar was built while the walls were cemented. The old convent which was also destructed by typhoon was demolished. The church’s cemetery was sold and the proceeds were used for the building of a new small “convent” and parish hall.
Rev. Fr. Inocencio Poblete initiated the termite treatment of the whole church, supervised the concrete walling of the town plaza which was initiated by Dr. Jett E.Aviñante, Mr. Eneng Hermoso and Engr. Mehn Hermoso with the assistance of Architect Bobby Mojica and Businessman Teofilo Hermoso.
Rev. Fr. Redentor Corpus led the renovation of the roofing and the building of the small Adoration Chapel, later turned into an ordinary prayer room. Rev.Fr. Roel Castañeda widened the parking area and made many improvements at the church plaza.
At the time of Rev.Fr. Herminigildo Asilo the electrical installations were improved and a Church Restoration and Preservation Committee was organized. This Committee exposed the original walls of the church, rebuilt the windows, installed stained glasses and introduced many improvements. When Rev. Fr. Phem Peregrino came the improvements continued. A new though still small convent was built, the parish hall was renovated. Now under the supervision of Rev. Fr. Bernie Gacelo more improvements are being made including the building of a new Arch-gate and the total iron fencing of the whole plaza on top of the original concrete wall.
More than the physical improvements of the Church, all Priests assigned to Alfonso,Cavite, in their own different ways contributed in strengthening the religiosity of the parishioners.
It was as early as year 1875 when the reigning Gobernadorcillo, Herminigildo Aviñante first suggested to build a stronger church building in exchange for the existing nipa hut chapel. The suggestion was only accomplished in the early years of 1883 when the construction of a stronger church was started when the Parish Priest was Rev. Fr.Candido Valles. The Church was finished after four years during the time of Rev.Fr. Juan Gonzales.
It was built by Filipino and Chinese carpenters but it was greatly destroyed by a strong typhoon in December, 1926.
The ruins were used by the Guerilla Soldiers as hiding place during the Japanese occupation. It was converted into a poultry house after the liberation.
Through the efforts of Rev. Fr. Jose Rementilla, Jr. in 1954, the ruins were rebuilt and renovated with the funding from donations and from the amount gathered from the sales of the lots at the right and back portions of the church’s lot.
During the time of Rev. Fr. Avelino Sapida, with the help of the then very active Cursillistas the interior of the church was renovated. A new altar was built while the walls were cemented. The old convent which was also destructed by typhoon was demolished. The church’s cemetery was sold and the proceeds were used for the building of a new small “convent” and parish hall.
Rev. Fr. Inocencio Poblete initiated the termite treatment of the whole church, supervised the concrete walling of the town plaza which was initiated by Dr. Jett E.Aviñante, Mr. Eneng Hermoso and Engr. Mehn Hermoso with the assistance of Architect Bobby Mojica and Businessman Teofilo Hermoso.
Rev. Fr. Redentor Corpus led the renovation of the roofing and the building of the small Adoration Chapel, later turned into an ordinary prayer room. Rev.Fr. Roel Castañeda widened the parking area and made many improvements at the church plaza.
At the time of Rev.Fr. Herminigildo Asilo the electrical installations were improved and a Church Restoration and Preservation Committee was organized. This Committee exposed the original walls of the church, rebuilt the windows, installed stained glasses and introduced many improvements. When Rev. Fr. Phem Peregrino came the improvements continued. A new though still small convent was built, the parish hall was renovated. Now under the supervision of Rev. Fr. Bernie Gacelo more improvements are being made including the building of a new Arch-gate and the total iron fencing of the whole plaza on top of the original concrete wall.
More than the physical improvements of the Church, all Priests assigned to Alfonso,Cavite, in their own different ways contributed in strengthening the religiosity of the parishioners.
Friday, August 1, 2008
MENTAL TELEPATHY
MENTAL TELEPATHY
Excerpts from my Nigerian Diary
8 October 78= 3:30 a.m. (10:30 a.m. Phil. Time)
I was awakened by a sigh-like sound as if coming from a dreaming child. I could sense that it was emanating from one of my children. I tried to check if it was not from my roommate, Dr. Lumbay. He was sleeping deeply and I was sure I was fully awake.
At the moment I couldn’t give any significance to the phenomenon but I presumed it was one of those psychic vibrations. Something ‘good’ must be going on in our house that one of my children was probably intensely thinking of me. I felt homesick. Scenes back home started appearing on my mind one after another. I thought that although I was miles away, the cosmic mind, God, was always connecting me with my love ones.
At the same time I was also experiencing a right-sided headache but it was possibly due the colds that I caught the other day while walking in the rain.
The following day I wrote a letter to my wife and to some friends to find out if anything unusual happened on that day. Almost everyone answered back that I shouldn’t worry for everything was fine back home. But a cousin of mine had a different story. She said that on that particular day and time my helper did hurt my son who failed to follow his command. My son quickly went to the Hospital across the road where I used to work to seek my assistance and realizing that I was in Nigeria he made a sigh of disappointment and that was the vibration that I telepathically picked.
Excerpts from my Nigerian Diary
8 October 78= 3:30 a.m. (10:30 a.m. Phil. Time)
I was awakened by a sigh-like sound as if coming from a dreaming child. I could sense that it was emanating from one of my children. I tried to check if it was not from my roommate, Dr. Lumbay. He was sleeping deeply and I was sure I was fully awake.
At the moment I couldn’t give any significance to the phenomenon but I presumed it was one of those psychic vibrations. Something ‘good’ must be going on in our house that one of my children was probably intensely thinking of me. I felt homesick. Scenes back home started appearing on my mind one after another. I thought that although I was miles away, the cosmic mind, God, was always connecting me with my love ones.
At the same time I was also experiencing a right-sided headache but it was possibly due the colds that I caught the other day while walking in the rain.
The following day I wrote a letter to my wife and to some friends to find out if anything unusual happened on that day. Almost everyone answered back that I shouldn’t worry for everything was fine back home. But a cousin of mine had a different story. She said that on that particular day and time my helper did hurt my son who failed to follow his command. My son quickly went to the Hospital across the road where I used to work to seek my assistance and realizing that I was in Nigeria he made a sigh of disappointment and that was the vibration that I telepathically picked.
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