dear bugsy

Dear Bugsy,

Today is your 8th birthday and I can't thank God enough for giving you to us.

I'm going to tell the whole story of how you came into our lives. And I'm sorry if it took me all of 8 years to do so. But I'm sure you'll understand.

God laid out His plan on a clear Saturday afternoon, 96 full moons ago. Coming home from my graduate class that day, I saw your Lola Bebe---Dad and Mom's first cousin---watching TV with a scrawny lass about 15 years old . I smiled and nodded at them and went straight to my room and slept. Lola Bebe has grown familiar to this habit of mine, she being a frequent visitor.

Your mommy woke me for lunch. At the table, the girl was seated farthest from me. I looked at Lola Bebe and winked while pointing my lips at the girl. Lola Bebe smiled and said: "Si Tata, my working student." An intelligent Math teacher, Lola Bebe lives in Gamut, Barobo.

I had a class that afternoon and I was ironing my clothes (because I don't usually repeat what I wore in the morning) when Lola Bebe came up to me. She said Tata was pregnant (how and by whom the story was quite incredible to print here) and that she wanted Tata to stay with us until she was ready to give birth. The plan was to haul Tata somewhere after her stay with us.

I'm doing this, she said, because Tata's father would kill her if he knows about her condition. Her alibi to him was that she was bringing Tata to Tago to be the caregiver of Mommy Gly who was supposedly sick.

I told her we'd talk about it when I'm done ironing. At the executive sala I sat in front of Lola Bebe. Mommy Gly was watching TV. I had a feeling she already knew what Lola Bebe was about to tell me.

Hidden from us by a wall, Tata was sitting in the sala by the main door, alone.

Lola Bebe repeated her story. It was already apparent that you were up for adoption and that Lola Bebe wanted me to be your surrogate father. Alas! she didn't have the courage to ask me. Finding the responsibility of raising a child overwhelming, I played dumb. Then I told Lola Bebe I would call my officemate (who happens to be her husband's relative) who once told me that she wanted to adopt another baby and another one for her childless sister. The phone was busy. I tried again. The same. For five times that I dialed her number, her phone was busy.

(The same officemate would later tell me that she wasn't using her phone at the time I told her I called her and that her phone, which was always by her side, didn't even ring.)

I felt thirsty. On my way to the ref I looked at the girl sitting on a chair in the sala. On her lap was a tattered cloth bag the size of a short brown envelope. I knew that all her belongings and all her hopes were contained in that tiny bag. She looked at me and smiled in a way so awkward it pierced my heart and shattered my resolve. Until the day I die, I wiill never forget that smile. And in that very moment, I stood there transfixed, a vow forming in my head: Even with sights unseen, I will adopt your child!

Bugs, maybe I can tell you the rest of the story personally. What I want you to know is that you're luckier than all of us: While we didn't have that rare privilege of choosing our parents, you had God choosing your parents for you! That's our way of declaring our unconditional love for you.

I look forward to the day when I can share to you what happened inside my room on that rainy night when I talked to your biological mother who was to leave the day after, probably never to come back. God knows I cried buckets because I felt her helplessness of leaving you to us. But God will strike me dead if I didn't promise her that you will grow up knowing she's your biological mother, and that any time she can come back and make up for lost time with you.

Bugs, we love you no matter what. You know that, don't you? And here's our promise to you: Nothing's gonna harm you, not while we're around.

Love you much,

Daddy

how Tinuy-an Falls got its name (a repost)

For the longest time I never bothered to find out how Tinuy-an Falls got its name even if I was asked gazillion times by friends and acquaintances. Finally last year, I got to send a text message to Ms. Lorie Lim, the Tourism Officer of Bislig City, about it. She texted back with two versions.

The environs of Tinuy-an Falls according to the first version were once inhabited by datus who pysically and sexually abused the natives. Wanting to exact revenge, the natives planted impaled bamboo poles (known locally as suyak) under the fall's catchbasin before going up the next tier to lie in wait.

Days passed and no datus were on sight. Still the natives waited. When their chance finally came, the natives commandeered the boat that carried the datus and pushed it toward the edge---into the deadly abyss. The sparkling waters of Tinuy-an Falls turned crimson.

The natives fled but few meters away they realized they had nowhere to go because the datus' family would surely catch them. Fearing retribution, the natives ran back and jumped to their death en masse.

The verb "tuyo" (stress on the second syllable) is the Visayan root word for "suicide". As noun, "Tinuy-an" therefore means the site of mass suicide.

The second version states that during the olden days, there was no beaten track leading to Tinuy-an Falls. To go there, one had to "make time and find a way" which, in Visayan, translates to "tuyuon" which is both a verb (no stress) and an adjective (stress on the 3rd syllable).

To me, the second version sounds contrived because grammatically the falls should have been named "Tuyuon" rather than "Tinuy-an".

Tourists flocking to Tinuy-an Falls have two choices. You want blood and gore? It's version 1 for you. You want something that strains credulity? It's version 2 for you.

Whatever floats your boat!

The Immaculate Conception Parish of Tago will turn 100 years in 2013. And I heard that the exact date of the centenary is still being debated on because there are Catholics who think the date does not fall, as popularly believed, on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception which is December 8. Whatever. The point is, a celebration as big as this needs a blueprint as early as now.

The first thing to determine is the theme of the centennial. This is crucial because it serves as a hinge that holds all activities together. And not to forget, the theme must come from the parishioners themselves. In short, no need Sotto-fying (copying, that is!) grandiose themes from Google because they might not capture the essence of the celebration as intended by Tagon-on Catholics.

Also, make the theme simple but meaningful. And the best way to conceptualize a theme is through consensus building---and not through a contest, heavens forbid!---in a process that facilitates refinement. In short, it doesn’t have to be crafted in one sitting.

It is important to have the theme this early to use as promotional tool. With it, one can already print collaterals (pins, shirts, fans, etc.) to drumbeat the activity and create awareness long before the big event. In fact the parish can even earn money while promoting the activity by selling these items this coming fiesta.

For sure suggestions will come from all corners, it’s the parish’s cien anos after all. But lessons have been learned that more activities do not automatically translate to a more festive and meaningful celebration. Badly handled, they could even deny the celebration the focus it deserves. What I’m saying is: all suggested activities must be evaluated and approved in terms of how they contribute to the theme. If they don’t, then drop them no matter how high profile the activities are. Or even if they already have sponsors. Only after the activities shall have been identified will the working committees be composed. The committee size must be small, handling small concerns. This way, there’s no reason for committees not to do their tasks well.

An executive committee (ExCom) composed of committee chairs must also be constituted. In the remaining 100 days to the centennial, the ExCom must meet every Sunday after mass to discuss progress and problems. The next Sunday, chairs must give updates on the problems they shared the week before. This way, the ExCom can track progress and act on problems that are beyond the control of concerned committee chair to solve. The ExCom must also identify milestones, which is actually establishing timelines within which certain major targets must be accomplished.

Solicitations must capitalize on the number “100”. In the carro for example, ten Catholics may donate 100 pieces each of anthurium; another 10 for 100 pieces each of chrysanthemum; another ten for-----you get the point.

Because hymns are integral to religious celebrations, a choir composed of----yeah, you’re right----100 men, 100 women, and 100 children will occupy the loft above the main door. Nothing short of a symphony! A maestro must be engaged months before the big event to give ample time to master the pieces.

The cathedral being the focal point of the centennial celebration must be spruced up. However, and this is important, all facelifting and refurbishing jobs must be finished three months before the big day. September 8, 2013 to be exact. You see, there’s no point for Catholics to cover their noses from the smell of fresh paint while hearing the concelebrated mass of 100 priests on December 8, 2013.

Centennials are the most opportune time to educate people on their shared history and heritage. That said, a photo exhibit and other memorabilia must be mounted. To write the history of the parish one must do interviews and data gathering, and this should be done now. This history must form part of a souvenir program that could also be used for fund sourcing. Just make it a sort of a coffee table book to lend it class. If budget allows, a consultant may be hired.

Enchanted River of Hinatuan

Looking at the pictures of Enchanted River in countless Internet sites, one may scream Photoshopped! But such is the essence of Hinatuan’s most famous tourist spot: it’s too magical to be natural.

Cambatong, where Enchanted River is located, is steeped in oral tradition. And the lore of how the river got its mystical tint is not hard to believe. For who else could have created this bewitching palette of colors but the ethereal beings endowed with the powers of magic and enchantment? Legend has it that one firefly-lit night fairies floated above the river while elves watched from cliffs and banks. With their wands the fairies stirred the water, toyed with sapphire and jade, and made the tones fade and meld to achieve a shade of bluish green that now paints the bed of Enchanted River.

About 12 kilometers from highway junction, Enchanted River straddles the boundary of Talisay and Cambatong in Hinatuan, Surigao del Sur. Though some portions of the well-maintained dirt road are undulating, they don’t make the ride as bumpy and dusty like some tourists blogged it to be.

What lends credence to the name Enchanted River are these: fishermen swearing to seeing various fish but couldn’t catch any no matter how they tried--not by hand, spear, or net; fishwives laying their fish traps at dusk only to find them hanging on a branch the day after; a foreigner plunging into the visible riverbed and finding it unfathomable; a father and son seeing two long-haired, alabaster-skinned women bathing under a plump moon then vanishing in a swirl of fireflies; boatmen gaping at sunken boulders of twisted images that were there one day and gone the next. Also, there’s a cave farther away, just before the river flows out to Hinatuan Bay that faces the Pacific Ocean. Accessible by foot during low tide, it showcases limestone naturally carved as furniture sets and positioned as though Neptune were hosting a party for underwater denizens.

An added attraction when visiting Enchanted River happens at noon when the bell is rung and bathers are requested to get out of water for about an hour. As Hinatuan Hymn begins to play, groups of fish come out from nowhere like on cue and feed on food scraps the caretaker and tourists throw into the water. This feeding frenzy makes spinning tails and scales catch light, turning the natural pool into a liquid canvas of the magical and the fabulous.

Enchanted River’s old name was Libwak. It was the Father of Tourism himself, Modesto Farolan, who gave it its present name through a poem entitled “Rio Encantado”. (The same had been set to music by Francisco Rio.) Then pre-war manager of the Madrigal-owned Port Lamon Lumber Company that exported round timber, Farolan wrote it for Geminia, a local lass that was his inamorata. The poem is a romantic evocation of Enchanted River as an unspoiled, untouched, and undiscovered trysting cocoon for lovers. It talks of “crystalline stream flowing from hidden spring,” “rocky brims ‘mongst vines,” “orchids and ferns,” “canopy of rich green mirrored in water tinted blue,” and “purple gold lined with gems.”

Farolan’s Enchanted River may have changed over time but it enthralls just the same. While the turquoise riverbed remains unchanging beneath cool waters that sparkle like quicksilver, the environs have given way to some structures that others may find incongruous with the thematic concept of nature. Where cliffs used to be, the Local Government of Hinatuan has built concrete staircases to make it easy for tourists to bathe and swim. Few meters away from the bank that overlooks the river are some cottages that tourists can rent for P100. A wooden foot bridge on stilts leads to the terminal of outrigger boats that ferry tourists to the nearby Vanishing Island and beach resort for P150 an hour. For non-swimmers, there’s a kiddie and adult pool. Stalls offering various seafood at reasonable prices operate outside the cordoned area, just across the main gate.

Lifeguards are employed for safety precautions and life jackets are rented out at P100 each for whole day’s use. An entrance fee of P20 is collected.

Be forewarned: parking is difficult and staying overnight is not allowed.

Swimming in Enchanted River is like swimming in a Monet painting. And what makes it more bewitching is the element of dread attached to its stunning visuals. But for the brave-hearted, it’s plunging into the abyss that makes Enchanted River a surreal experience. And one wouldn’t know the feeling until he gives it a try!

(Note: this blogpost had been published by the Philippine Daily Inquirer on 29 September 2012. Here's the link: http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/279714/nature-spins-magic-in-enchanted-river )

Ms. Ann Corpuz-Alarde, great friend

Our recent trip to Manila was a shining testament to how kind friends could be. That said, this post is not an attempt at sycophancy; it’s an expression of gratitude.

Ms. Analyn Corpuz-Alarde practices generosity long before she got to where she’s now. In fact, generosity pulsates in her veins you think of getting her as blood donor should the need for transfusion present itself in the hope that the same streak of generosity rubs off on you.

I know Ann long enough to know she’s a woman of finer taste. So privileged to be born with it, she hones this flair further with non-stop reading, a passion we both share.

Since high school, I’ve been a grateful beneficiary of Ann’s generosity. One time, knowing I had an antiquated cellular phone, she sent me a Nokia with a camera. She’d sent me books, magazines, foodstuff. And yes, DVDs because movies are another passion we share.

I don’t see Ann often because she seldom goes home to Tago. And in rare times we swapped text messages, she would always tell me to see her should I find myself in Manila. Just to share a laugh, she would say. While I had so many chances, I never sought her because generosity, even if it’s good, is something that kills me.

The last time I met up with Ann was about 10 summers ago. Knowing I love theatre, she brought me to the comedy show of Rex Navarette at Music Museum in Greenhills. All tickets were sold-out that day, but she still managed to find ways to get some for us.



If not for Emily who arranged a trip to Manila for me and Dee via budget fare of Cebu Pacific last week, I wouldn’t have renewed ties with Ann. And when Ann knew our junket coincided with the Philippine-run of Phantom of the Opera, she got us tickets without being asked. That’s vintage Ann!

If you’re with Ann, you better had a tummy the size of Makati because she has this habit of making you taste and try everything. And dining, for Ann, follows no schedule, coming as it does in short intervals.

On Sunday, 26 August 2012, we were to watch Phantom of the Opera at CCP. Ann lives in Novaliches and since we had a tour of the Ayala Museum in the morning, we met at Greenbelt 5 at lunchtime.

Unknown to Ann, Emily and I agreed that she was to go home with Ann to Novaliches after lunch. I would join them at CCP later in the evening as I lived in Paranaque. But then Ann told Emily that she had already reserved a room at Makati Shangri-La so we wouldn’t have to go home and change. Whoa!

At P7,280.00 each, the Phantom of the Opera tickets that Ann got us were premium. So close was I---second row to be exact!--- that only an orchestra pit separated me from the stage. If you were that close, it’s easy to be overwhelmed by the unfolding scene and the fast changing set. And for this promdi, it was a hair-raising spectacle!

After the show, Ann bought us memorabilias--- a CD soundtrack and a white mug. Then off we went to Diamond Hotel for some midnight snacks. But the restaurant had already closed and so we repaired back to the Shang where Ann ordered room service.

The next day, Ann knocked to say we were having buffet breakfast at Circles where the array of food was both eclectic and plenty it could feed all residents of Tago in just one go!

We checked out carrying Makati Shangri-la mooncakes sheathed in magenta satin and etched with Chinese art and characters.

Because Ann knew we were meeting our high school batchmates in Serendra, she herded us to Bonifacio High Street, wanting to show us the place as it’s now the favourite watering hole of the stars. We had late lunch at Café Juanita where on the side, I tutored Ann’s sons on some things Tagon-on. Then with just a 30-minute interval, we had cake and tea at Chelsea. By the time I sipped the last drop of my chamomile tea, I was about ready to burst!

Ann is an extraordinary friend not because she has too much to share and spare. But because all these years she has remained child-like, that is: unassuming, soft-spoken, and effortless! But what really endears Ann to me is that she strikes me as someone who is oblivious of the good and wonderful things she does to her friends. And that, to me, spells the greatest difference!

To a great friend, Ms. Analyn Corpuz-Alarde, thank you very much.

Tago became a town three times: first in 1865 under the Maura Law of the Spanish Regime; second in 23 August 1883; and third in 6 November 1918 by virtue of Executive Order No. 41 signed by then Governor General Francis Burton Harrison. Now, if this written and oral history is something to go by, then there’s something wrong in the date we celebrate Araw ng Tago.

Recently we celebrated the 94th Araw ng Tago from 9 to 11 August. But where did “94” and “August 9-11” come from?

Let’s admit it, guys, we got it all wrong! And if it’s wrong, then we must correct it.

If I were to decide how old Tago is, logic dictates that I’d start counting from the day it was made into a town for the very first time, which was in 1865. That makes Tago not 94 years old but 147. But then again, I don’t have the month and date, so I’d rather not choose it as basis, unless I have no qualms about “doctoring” history by adding an arbitrary month and date.

Moving on to my next bet, 23 August 1883. If I adopt this as basis, at least the celebration will continue to be on the same month of August. I just have to change Tago’s age from 94 to 129 years.

I have to admit that in terms of strength of authority as basis, nothing beats 6 November 1918 because it is supported by an Executive Order. Apparently, the date of Governor General Harrison's EO was made the basis of Araw ng Tago celebration as it placed the age of Tago in 2012 as 94. But then again, why celebrate it two months and 25 days earlier?

There, my fellow Tagon-ons, lies an anomaly.

Since the watch of then Vice Mayor Roque “Nonon” Villamor I have been telling public officials to rectify the patent error but nobody has taken up the challenge.

Any celebration must have accurate basis. And as far as basis goes, nobody argues with history.

Res ipsa loquitor.

2nd Tago Skimboarding Competition

As prayed for, God gave the 2nd Tago Skimboarding Competition fine weather and great waves!

With sand art as backdrop, this year’s skimboarding competition was set off by a beach fashion show that featured six pairs of models carrying bright-colored skimboards and sashaying to David Guetta’s Sexy Chick. Wearing a matching outfit of bra-top and boy leg shorts donated by First Lady Tata Dolon-Pimentel, the girl models made hearts race with their flawless skin and svelte frame. On their part, the male models wowed the crowd with their ripped bods and washboard abs.

Graceful, multi-colored wind cones and flaglets made by First Lady Tata Dolon-Pimentel created the mood for the competition as they danced to the rhythm of the wind as though entreating the gods and goddesses of the sea for their support and mercy. When the first skimboarder met an onrushing wave, rode it, and performed tricks, the crowd roared with approval.

And thus began the 2nd Tago Skimboarding Competition!

This year’s board of judges was headed by a 34-year old professional skimboarder from Switzerland, Cedric Perreman. He was joined by two comebacking judges, Veni Vidi Vici Suarez and McFel Tutor. Attendance sheets showed that there were 35 adult and 14 grommet participants, some coming from as far as Cantilan and Surigao City.

Low tide being early that morning, the waves were well-formed, the better for skimboarders to impress the judges with their power moves, thus earn brownie points.

In between heats, the spectators had their pictures taken either at the sand art or on the photo booth that allowed them to appropriate the body of a well-built skimmer.

Lunch, as usual, was served at the residence of Engr. and Mrs. Nicolas C. Laurente with lechon as the main course. The judges and the skimboarders, like last year, had their fill of sumptuous food.



God being always good, He continued blessing the competition with an even better waves down to the last heat in the afternoon. This made one of the riders who had joined a lot of skimboarding competitions say, "Your waves here are great; they're worthy of national skimboarding competition!"

Before the awarding ceremonies, the skimboarders did some clean-up of the area, putting trash into a plastic bin. Some wind cones and flaglets were repositioned while boards were placed upright for added effect.

When dusk set in, lanterns were unleashed. As they reached for the sky, everybody said a little prayer of thanksgiving to God for being so merciful and kind.

This year’s winner in the adult category were: Jaygo Missiona, 1st Prize (10,000.00); Aldon Pamugas, 2nd Prize (7,000.00), and Jasor Ortiz, 3rd Prize (5,000.00). Special awards: Most Promising Skimboarder, Martin Vallescas (1,000.00); Best in Wipe-Out, Ronald Ancla (1,000.00); Best in Long-Ride, Aldon Pamugas (1,000.00).

This year’s winner in the grommet category were: Kenneth Castillo, 1st Prize (2,000.00); Rejohn Nahial, 2nd Prize (1,500.00), and Jevan Jimene, 3rd Prize (1,000.00).

Winners also received handpainted skimboard-inspired trophies made of narra that First Lady Tata Dolon-Pimentel designed and adopted herself. As consolation prizes for the adult category, a pair of boardshorts and drifit shirts were given to 21 skimboarders courtesy of First Lady Tata Dolon-Pimentel. Head judge Cedric Perreman offered to provide the same boardshorts and drifit shirts to non-winning grommet skimmers. (The category being an afterthought, no provision for non-winning grommet skimmers was made.) He also asked to be allowed to print the 2nd Tago Skimboarding Competition official shirt so he could give some to selected skimboarders.



The 2nd Tago Skimboarding Competition owed its success to the following donors, sponsors, and supporters: Hon. Johnny T. Pimentel (P20,000.00), Hon. Henrich M. Pimentel (P55,000.00), Hon. Nneka Marie P. Laurente (P3,000.00), Ms. Gracey Elizalde (P2,000.00), David Y. Patrimonio for the kilometric electrical wire, Ms. Maria Isabel Dolon-Insame, Ms. Maria Elena Dolon-Pimentel, Sr. Fidelisa J. Portillo, SPC, and the men and women of I-LOVE-TAGO Movement.