High school life

Growing up in the province at times gives you an edge over those who have been in the city from birth. For one, there's just a lot more colorful stories to tell and equally more animated ways to tell it. In my case, I have attempted to list down, from top of mind, things I associate with high school spent in a remote town far from the city.

Here's my list. I had a grand time coming up with one. You should try coming up with a list too. I tried to elaborate briefly each item. Some though speak for themselves. The 80's was just a very fun time to always look back. And besides, most of the people I know who come visit my blog are well familiar with the period. Except for Mavic who may know something way, way beyond the great 80's.

Enjoy my high-school-days-oh-my-high-school-days-I-remember-kay-saya list:

1. Manilyn Reynes-Janno Gibbs notebook. Patok na patok sa probinsiya everyone had it.
2. Menudo craze. Girl classmates drooled over Robby Rosa, Ricky Martin, Charlie ---, Roy ---.
3. Florante at Laura. Hindi ako um-absent sa class kasi gusto ko iyong love story.
4. Panatang Makabayan. Memorized ko ito noon; ngayon kelangan ko nang tulong.
5. Nutri-bun. May binibigay noon na tinapay sa mga public schools. Super laki na super sawa na ang lahat.
6. Splash gel. Diyan nagsimula ang lahat.
7. Rick Astley, Fra Lippo Lippi, Ray Parker Jr. Sikat noon, sikat pa rin sa amin ngayon.
8. Kumander Gringa, Bala at Lipstik, Petrang Kabayo. Roderick Paulate has since become the only one who can make me laugh without really trying. :-)
9. Rolling store ni Manang. Utangan namin pag recess, taguan pag late.
10. Slumbook. Lahat meron. Lahat dapat sa-sign ka rin.
11. Every name has the letter H as second letter (Mhalen, Lhilet, Vhangie). No comment.
12. Padamihan ng letter E sa pangalan (Mercee, Lucee, Virgee). No comment pa rin.
13. Mr. DJ ni Sharon. Naririnig ko sa radyo ng kapitbahay.
14. Scott Baio. May poster ako ginupit pa sa Women's magazine yata (o MOD). :-)
15. Cassette player & cassette tapes. Diyan ko napakinggan ang Footloose na soundtrack at Thriller tapes.
16. Bic ballpen, THOR pencils. Masarap ngatngatin.
17. COD, Syvel's at Footstep sa Cubao. Pasyalan sa Cubao noon. Sa COD ako dahil sa christmas displays, Syvel's dahil sa nanay ko.
18. Bagets porma. Naka-fold na short sleeves, baston na pantalon na may zipper sa gilid. Huwag na please....
19. Basketball sa ulan. Kasama sina Mao, Doc, Toddy, Jimboy.
20. Biology field trip. Kuha ng algae.
21. Dutong, dutong. Tawag sa teacher namin na putol iyong isang daliri pag gustong maasar.
22. Practical arts subject ni Mr. Hubalde. Dito nagsimula ang pangarap kong maging carpenter. Project ko non plantsahan.
23. CAT pag Monday afternoons. Astig porma.
24. English elective class ni Mr. Verana. Always fun.
25. Teammates (John L., Victor Z., Rodel B.) sa 4x100m relay. Winning team for three straight years.
26. Induction balls. Ligaw, ligaw.
27. Girlfriend, girlfriends. First kiss, first kiss.
28. Sperry Topsider. Porma shoes.
29. Kungfu shoes. Gift lang sa akin, hindi ito porma shoes ko. :-)
30. Bulletin board sa Faculty room. Where class rankings are posted.

Fatherhood

I will never know what it actually feels to be a father.

That day I turned 26 I vowed never to marry. Not because I really wanted to, but more to serve as a fearless statement and a fitting tribute to a newfound identity following meaningful experiences with self-acceptance. It’s so clear to me the reasons behind the decision. For one, I don’t need to prove to any one that I’m virile and capable of bursting my seeds to fertile lands. I’m not even interested to be portrayed as a good and dutiful son succumbing to family pressure to perpetuate one’s own genetic material lest I’ll be cut off from inheritance. My family’s not affluent so I’m safe in this regard. But worst of all, I don’t subscribe to the horrifying idea that family means family only when father-mother-brother-sister and the dog are present.

I’m thankful I have reached that stage in my life where valuing self-concept is not just a wild dream, but a living truth. I have spent many years finding and improving myself since that fateful day in 1996 when I turned 24 and thanked God for giving be courage to accept myself. The years that followed have been unexplainably happy and fulfilling, which likely rubbed on my parents. They are now careful not to insist on what they want, but defer to my judgment on things. I like to interpret this as their way of recognizing the truth that tradition and traditional things aren’t always justified and correct.

I may never be a father myself, but my god, I do know how to be one.

Paddling for motherland

While Manila was besieged with endless protests left and right over the weekend, I was more than 730 miles north of Manila in Taipei as part of a crew of 21 dragonboat rowers carrying the Philippine flag who slugged it out with three other teams for the fifth place. I felt it was ironic that while there were a group of people somewhere fighting to bring the country prestige and honor, exactly the opposite happens at home. That makes me sigh.

Anyways, our team competed in the 2005 Taipei International Dragonboat Championships held at the Keelung Riverside Park in Taipei city. Although we were actually a local club team, one doesn’t normally carry the team’s name in international races. You’re likely to be referred to by your country of origin. It’s a daunting task to know you’re competing for your country. And you know you shouldn’t fail. We left Manila early morning of Thursday and just planed home yesterday past lunchtime.

I have longed dreamt of competing for the country in one area I know I do well since I was in gradeschool --- sports. I’m glad I have finally found the way through rowing. It has been where most of my time revolved around since the start of the year and has been the cause of my endless decline on friend’s invitations for after-work dinners or coffee or movies. More ominously, I have to admit (even if I’d be likely yet lovingly sneered at by some friends) that it has mainly been the reason why love has come aloof and cold. It slips through my hands as fast it comes, vanishes as quickly as it appears knocking.

But the sacrifices I’ve endured over the months have well been worth it. They were around 76 teams who participated in the race, of which close to a third belonged to the open competition category where we signed up. Of this, about ten teams came from around the world from USA to Canada to Australia to Japan, Singapore, and of course, Philippines.

We didn’t fail motherland. We were one of the only two foreign teams left in the semifinals comprised of eight teams. We lost by an unbelievable 0.04 seconds. We may not have brought home the gold and around 600 thousand pesos in cash prize that accompanied it, but one thing was certain: We made a mark there. We deserved every applause they offered everytime we walk by. They couldn't believe we beat USA in our first heat and all the foreign teams after that. The only one's we were up against were Taiwan teams comprised of physical education major university students and another from their airforce academy. But even then, the name Manila will surely be associated with deadly performance on the water.

So long, Lolo Papang

A few months back, I wrote something about my grandfather, my mom’s dad, whom all of us call Lolo Papang. I don’t exactly recall what moved me to write that piece, but I just remember feeling it was the right thing to do that day. In that article, I recalled few memorable stories about him which he narrated to me as a grandchild living closest to him. This happened during most of the 70’s until he retired as an elementary school district supervisor in our town after 40 years of doing public service, and subsequently moved to the States to follow Lola Mamang.

A few days ago, I wrote something about him again. This time, my mom asked me to do it. She had been asked, being the eldest among five brothers and five sisters, to deliver a eulogy for Lolo Papang before gathered relatives, friends, neighbors, and townmates in far USA. He died peacefully in a hospital last May 26 at 86.

I’ve been bribed a few times to write straightforward speeches for friends. At other times, I’ve succumbed to relentless pleas from my sister to edit her masteral thesis. But I’ve never done a eulogy for anybody before. What made the work a bit easier was my long-held honor of being the only grandchild among 39 that he allowed to go over the unpublished manuscript of his autobiography which he started writing when as early as five years before his death.

I nevertheless tried my hand at doing one. I didn’t want something that makes people cry. I wanted something that will become a breath of fresh air to everyone attending. I wanted a feel of noltalgia without the tears. As my way of paying tribute to the spirit of love and devotion Lolo Papang left behind, I wanted to share with you what I did. I have yet to ask my mom how she fared delivering it.

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Papang and his Letter M's

Thank you for joining us this afternoon. Your display of sympathy towards us has given us so much comfort and joy. Some have come from afar, some took their cars while others probably had to fly and cross states. Thank you for showing us your love. I'm sure Papang will be so humbled with the love and respect you have shown today.

It's difficult to relive Papang's lifestory without sharing with you the letter M's of his life.

The first M would have to be music. In the same way that you cannot separate night from day, Papang felt the same way with music. His high school days from 1935 to 1939 in Batanes were one of his happiest. This was before the war when kids didn't smoke, drink nor do drugs, but instead, would make plans for dances and soirees all the time. It was probably around this time also when he started to seriously play one string instrument after another ----- whether it's ukelele, guitar, banjo tenor, or banduria ---- and be good at every one of them. Papang and his friends became so proficient, not just in organizing dances, but in attending every one that's organized even if it meant hiking for six kilometers to the next town and another six kilometers heading back home since there were no public transportation that time in Batanes.

Forty five years later in 1980, his music made him feel at home here in America. He remembers so vividly that day he won first place in a talent contest he joined. He gladly bribed our youngest brother Jojo to accompany him in guitar while Papang played the banduria. And so before an audience of more than 200, Papang and Jojo played three popular pieces, the same three songs we've heard him play and master over the years as we grew up in Batanes. That's why the songs "Let me call you sweetheart," "Mexically Rose," and "You are my sunshine" have always been close to my heart. They were well-applauded. But what made the event more significant for Papang was it paved the way for our youngest brother Jojo to meet his wife Emilie for the first time.

While Papang played Cupid for Jojo, this wasn't how he seemed to be when he was younger. Many may not know it, but Papang kept love at bay when he was growing up. His humble beginnings made it clear to him that there were only two ways he can rise from the hardships and that was, first, to finish a college education and, believe or not, keep love away. So when he was in high school, he made a promise not to be too serious with girls. That was a little difficult for him since he was pretty popular in high school being chief of the high school orchestra and at the same time class president during his entire high school years.

But it only took another letter M to make Papang break his vow. Only three months into his fourth year, he pursued Mamang relentlessly who was in the first year class that time. Everyone was surprised. Papang that time was never known to be somebody who had his way with girls. Barely a month after high school, Papang and Mamang got married in April 1940. In his words, Papang said, he did this to make sure that Mamang would be there for him when he gets back from Manila where he planned to continue studying. A month after their wedding, Papang left the province and boarded a merchant ship to Manila where he was so determined to finish college.

However, the Second World War came and life stopped for most. Like most young men that time, he began attending daily warfare training until they received received orders for deployment. But God must have loved Papang so much that He wouldn't allow him to be in the battlefield. On Christmas eve in 1940 when they were about to be deployed to a nearby province, an order disbanding the cadets program was issued. At once, many headed home to their provinces. For Papang, he had to endure staying in Manila for around two more years. He couldn't leave for home even he desperately wanted to since there were no regular transportation heading to the province that time. He worked as a gardener for a prominent lawyer in Manila that time in the meantime. In 1942, he learned of a Japanese gunboat heading to Batanes. He spoke with some people and found a way to be included as a passenger. His employer tried to lure him to stay even promising him free law education after the war, but Papang preferred to head back home.

Home was a quiet little town called Mahatao in Batanes and the third M in Papang's life. That morning Papang arrived in Batanes from Manila, Mamang was heading back to Mahatao, around six kilometers away from the main town after bringing our eldest sister Elmie, who was still their only child that time, to our grandparents. Papang loved to tell this part of his story since it was probably filled with so much grand cinematic feel. Anyway, as Mamang was walking back home, she noticed boats brimming with umbrellas heading to the shore. She was told they were some Japanese ladies. Mamang became curious. She has never seen a Japanese lady in her life so she walked a whole kilometer to the port. She was surprised to see Batanes ladies instead. Her surprise didn't end there. She became so much more shocked to see Papang coming off the boat whom she almost failed to recognize because he grew a moustache and his hair was very long. And for the very first time in a long while, they walked hand in hand back to our grandparent's house.

Mahatao was memorable to Papang because this was where Mamang's family came from and where they settled as a young couple. This was where Papang spent most of his youth as a young married man and a young father. It was also where they lived mostly during the war. It was, as expected, where most of us were born.

Like nine months later after that fateful day in late October when Papang arrived and the fourth letter M was born in his life. It came in the form of a cute and adorable and charming little baby born in August the following year and was named Merlin. That was me. And for being the only one among us eleven brothers and sisters whose name starts in letter M, I'm deeply happy to be part of Papang's circle of letter M's.

But the greatest letter M, the Mission, of his life Papang made sure that all of us --- six sisters and five brothers --- shared. Papang, as well as Mamang, considered it their greatest achievement to have been able to send all of us siblings to college and be professionals. What makes this achievement more meaningful was it happened to a couple who didn't have any property or bank savings or even house of their own. So each time one of us comes up the stage to receive our college diplomas, Papang and Mamang felt a different sense of joy in them. They felt affirmed as good parents and blessed as good providers. I'm so happy that they lived so long enough to see that the fruits of their labor have been full, plenty, abundant, not just in our generation, but in his grandchildren's generation as well.

To end, I'd like to share with you a part of Papang's self-written valedictory address when he graduated from Grade 7 seventy years ago:

"Life is a cycle of rain and sunshine, tears and smiles, failures and successes. So have the determination to succeed regardless of any obstacles that may come your way."

This was Papang's guiding star in his life. I hope it lives in our hearts too. So his memory will always remain with us.