Pagtaong lalawgon sa kontemporanyong literatura and sosyedad kan Kabikolan

Repaso kan librong "Sinaraysay – Halo-halong Blog nin Buhay" ninda H. Francisco V. Peñones Jr., Rizaldy M. Manrique asin Judith Balares-Salamat durante kan pagbongsod kaini kan Sabado, Hunyo 4, 2011, sa STA Auditorium kan Naga College Foundation.

SARONG dakulang orgolyo para sa sakuya an matawan oportunidad na magtaong repaso sa “Sinaraysay – Halo-halong Blog nin Buhay.” An poco mas o menus 200-pahinang librong ini kompuesto kan pigtiripon na mga kolum sa Bikol Reporter kan tolong parasurat.

Proud to be Rinconada
Dakula ining orgolyo ta an tolo kapwa kaamistades asin kasabat-sabat sa buhay.

Si Frankie pareho ko nagin International Ford Fellow, maski ngani naenot ako saiya asin iba an dalan na piglakawan. Kan tawan oportunidad na magklase, pinili niyang magpa-San Jose, California asin duman orog na pinatarom asin pinabaskog an saiyang saiyang kakayahan bilang parasurat.

Si Aldy kapareho ko UNCean. Haros pareho an dalan na samong piglakawan sa hayskul, nagin editor asin parasurat sa The Trailblazer, an dyaryo kan UNC High, asin nag-agi sa kamot kan samong adviser, si Ma’am Rose Virtuz.

Si Judith man matua sako, kun dai ako nasasala nin saro o labi pang taon, asin pareho kami nagtapos nin elementarya sa Anayan-Sagrada Elementary School sa Pili. Kun dai nindo naikokolokar, an samong eskwelahan yaon duman sa kataid kan pigsangahan kan Diversion Road sa Anayan, harani sa may tulay. Dakol akong agi-agi sa eskwelahan na idto, na pano nin maogmang memorya kan nakaagi.

An saro pang “common denominator” mi iyo na kami gabos gikan sa Rincodana. “Ngamin tataong magsarita sa Rinconada.” Si Frankie gikan sa Libmanan (na sarong banwa na harani man sa sakong puso), alagad nagdakula asin nagtrabaho sa gobyerno lokal kan Iriga. Si Aldy namundag sa Iriga, nag-elementarya sa Iriga Central School, asin sa presente nagpapadalagan kan sarong escuelahan duman. Si Judith siertong tatao man: an Anayan-Sagrada, maski ngani nasa Pili asin luas sa Rincodana proper, nasa boundary asin igwa nin dakulang populasyon nin mga taga-Rinconada. An sakong mga magurang galin kin Bula/Nabua sa father side asin Iriga sa mother side.

Kaya kan hapitan ako ni Aldy sa opisina 10 days ago bago kami nagpa-Singapore ni Mayor John asin Vice Mayor Gabby, dai lamang ako makadai.

Duang obheto
Sa blurb kan libro, igwa ining duang obheto: enot, magtao nin alternatibong istorya (“pagsaysay”) manongnod sa kontemporanyong Bikolandia, asin ikadua, irokyaw asin iselebrar an nagdadanay, asin sa pagtubod ko, orog na nagtatalubong kultura asin literaturang Bikolnon. Igdi sa mga obhetong ini mabirik an sakong pagrepaso kan libro.

Daing dua-dua, matriumpong naotob kan tolong parasurat an enot na obheto. Kun satuyang sisiyasaton an presenteng estado kan industriya nin peryodismo sa satong rona, an komentaryo parateng dominado nin pulitika, na sa kadaklan short-sighted huli sa naturalesa kaini. (Kada tolong taon baga, naeleksyon huling natatapos tulos an turno kan satong mga elehidong opisyal.) An lataw na narrative susog pa man giraray sa estoryang kontrolado asin minaitok sa “dakulang tawo” sa satuyang sosyedad, sarong framework na may sarong siglo na an edad.

Sa ibong na kampi, nakakarepreskong basahon an mga artikulo ninda Frank, Aldy asin Judith kun haen bit players an mga pulitiko, asin bida an ordinaryong tawo – poon mga tiyohon, tiahon asin mga partidaryo ni Frankie sa Iriga, asin mga kapwa parasurat sa Bikolandia asin sa nasyon; sa pamilya, maestra, kaamigo, kakontemporanyo asin kabisto ni Aldy; sagkod sa ina, agom, aki, mga katrabaho, estudyante, mga kakawat sa Anayan, kaklase sa Anayan-Sagrada, OFW students sa New South Wales ni Judith; asin sa mga indibidwal (tunay man o kathang-isip) na saindang pigbibiliban asin pigtitingkalag. Siempre, yaon man an Ruben Babar, sarong institusyon sa lokal na media, na iyong nagbukas kan dalan tanganing magin libro an mga obra kan saiyang tolong kolumnista.

Dugang pa, an komentaryo bakong short-sighted kundi nagtatao kan pig-aapod sa Ingles na “long view” – mas mahiwas an pagtanaw, almost timeless sabi ngani kaiyan, asin huli kaini mas mapuwersa asin may pakinabang huling padagos na napapanahon an mensahe asin argumento maski isinurat sa konteksto kan nakaaging dekada.

Asin daing dua-dua, huli sa pagtaong lalawgon igdi, an “Sinaraysay” sarong selebrasyon kan kultura asin literaturang Bikolnon. An desinyo asin istruktura kan libro nakakaogmamg pagbasahon huli sa tolong laen-laen na boses an nagtataram.

Dai ko isi kun angay ini, pero para sako, si Frankie sa tolo iyo an kuenta Randy David – mayong kasiertohan na magugustohan mo an panurat, alagad aram mong pinapanindugan an pagtubod asin an obligasyon na isabi an katotoohan, maski malanit sa ginhawa.

Si Aldy iyo an personipikasyon kan kasabihan na journalism bilang “first draft of history” o “history written in a hurry.” Garo siya si Michael Tan, pero Bikoliana imbes na salud an pigsusurat. Halimbawa, an saiyang artikulo manongod sa Bagyong Reming kapwa nagpapagiromdom satuya kan destrosong dara kan kalamidad na idto – na kun minsan madaling malingawan huling medyo haloy na kitang dai linalamasa nin makosog na bagyo – asin kan kakayahan kan mga Bikolanong padagos na bumangon pagkatapos. Na nagpagirumdom sako kan mga saray-saray kong video kan Reming kun haen literal na pinakit kan bagyo an atop kan samong dating multipurpose center sa Grandview, Pacol.

Si Judith puede kong sabihon na iyo an Rina Jimenez David sa tolo, asin labi pa. An saiyang eksperyensia bilang ina/agom, parasurat, paratokdo asin akademiko nagtatao nin kakaibang perspektibo sa mga isyung inaatubang kan satong sosyedad. Asin ini garo hinghing nakakapagirumdom asin nakakakodot sa puso, nangorogna manongod sa literal asin metaporikal na aplikasyon kan pagluto – huling an mga magurang ko sa Sagrada matibay man na mga kusinero. Kun may paaso-aso sa kasal nin partidaryo o kamidbid, an ama ko parateng inoosipan na magtabang sa pagluto nin mga gisong sa kasal-Rinconada ko sana nananamitan. Kaya ngani suro-semana nauli ta nauli kami sa Sagrada, ta parte kan semanal na ritwal iyo an pangodtohan kaiba kan mga magurang, tugang asin makuapong yaon sana igdi sa palibot.

Sarong agyat
Boot kong tapuson an repasong ini tanganing komendaran an tolong parasurat sa pagkakaigwa nin kosog nin boot tanganing pangyarihon an sarong ideya na magin realidad. Naoogma ako maski paropano, an sadol ko ki Aldy na dai na pagparahalaton an gobyerno nganing magin totoo an sarong plano nakatabang na itulod an ideyang ini. Mala, an okasyon na ini selebrasyon kan pwersa asin kapangyarihan kan pagmawot asin dedikasyon sa sarong katuyohan asin kawsa.

Siring man, boot kong iwalat an sarong agyat. Para sako, bakong igo na kitang yaon igdi magbakal nin kopya asin magbasa kan libro. Subago, nanotaran na garo dikit sana an yaon ngonyan asin nagpaheling nin interes sa okasyon na ini. An angat sato iyo na ipaabot an librong ini, asin iba pang obra kan literaturang Bikolnon, sa mas mahiwas na audience. I certainly commisserate with our young people today – at least kan high school ako, igwa kaming subject na “Readings in Bicol Culture.” Makamomondo na ngonyan mayo na.

Pero an pagkaaram ko, an kurikulum kan DepEd minatugot na magdagdag nin subject, basta dai sana bawasan kun ano an yaon na. Siguro, saro ining bagay na dapat turukawan asin pag-olayan kan satong mga nanunungdan, sa pangengenot ni Vice Mayor Gabby Bordado asin Konsehal Nathan Sergio na yaon ngonyan. Madali ining sabihon, pero may kadepisilan gibohon ta igwa nin logistical asin resource implications an siring kaining desisyon. Baka dai pa andam an mga teacher kan DepEd-Naga na gamiton an mga materyal na ini sa eskwelahan. Pero saro ining oportunidad para sa mga parasurat asin nagmamakolog sa literaturang Bikolnon na pagtarabangan hanapan solusyon an problemang ini.

Sa giraray, congratulations sa saindong tolo. And may our tribe increase!

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May Pag-asa o wala? You be the judge

BELOW is the tracking taken from Pagasa's 5 AM weather bulletin:


PAGASA

Now compare that with the trackings below prepared by Mike Padua's Typhoon2000.ph, the US Joint Warning Center (JTWC) and the Japan Meteorological Agency (JMA), respectively:


 Typhoon2000.ph


 JTWC


 JMA

I think the national weather bureau does not inspire confidence.

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A homecoming — for someone who never left

Commencement Speech, 63rd Commencement Exercises, UNC High School, March 26, 2011.

I’M HONORED to address the 2011 Graduating Class of the University of Nueva Caceres in this most important occasion in your student life. I can certainly say I understand the mixed feelings that go with the occasion, having been in your shoes 25 years ago.

Which is quite something, isn’t it? After all, our batch, UNC High School Batch ’85, was the last of the so-called “Marcos babies”: in bidding goodbye to high school life on March 30, 1985, we were the last of our kind to graduate with the late dictator Ferdinand Marcos as sitting president.

Less than a year later, a snap election would be held on February 7, 1986, pitting Marcos against Cory Aquino, the widow of opposition Sen. Benigno Aquino, Jr. who was assassinated two years back in August 1983 — when we were still in third year high school, in our classroom there in the Engineering Building. It would be the beginning of the end. In two weeks time, the People Power Revolution would take place in Edsa and sweep the Marcoses out of power. And the rest is history.

Yet, all these would probably be unimportant to you, as a generation who grew up on gadgets like the ubiquitous cellphone that cannot be separated from your body, or social networking technologies like Facebook and Twitter that bind groups and communities together. I will not be surprised if for most of you, the Edsa Revolution of 1986 — whose 25th anniversary the country celebrated this year — is only stuff of textbooks, a boring but required reading to get you through school. (Although nowadays, you can also google it on the internet and download commemorative video clips on Youtube, something we didn’t have back in our days.)

But boy, were they tumultuous years for our generation, those four we spent at UNC High! Looking back from hindsight two and a half decades later, I still cannot figure out how my parents, an ordinary farmer and a plain housewife from Sagrada, Pili, were actually able to send me and my brother (who is two years my junior) to UNC. Most probably it was because they’re into farming that our family livelihood was mostly shielded from the tremendous economic difficulties of the time. Moreover, many farmers have no choice but to continue farming, because they actually don’t have any other option available.

Nonetheless, this singular opportunity to speak before you, as a “young once,” I therefore owe them. In the same manner that your presence here must have been made possible by having parents, guardians or benefactors by your side. But that is not what I want to dwell on today.

Nowadays, it’s easy to lose hope, especially in these difficult times. For someone who has practically seen our country swing from the extremes — from a repressive regime under Marcos to a restored democracy under Cory, from the dull but gung-ho days of Ramos and his technocrats to the false populism of Erap and his midnight cabinet, followed by yet another People Power uprising in 2001 (and a planned coup d’etat by military backers, just in case) that installed Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and her regime of broken promises, which left in its wake equally broken democratic institutions, and now another Aquino back in Malacanang, propelled by the Biblical metaphor of “tuwid na daan” — I would like to think I’ve seen it all.

It’s as if the country has just wasted a quarter of a century hurtling from one crisis to another, fighting and containing fires of our own making, so much so that 25 years later, our democracy project remains a largely unfulfilled promise. Meanwhile, our neighboring countries in Southeast Asia have gotten their act together, moved on and sped ahead — iwinalat na kita sa baybayon.

It pains me because I am reminded of, and now feel chastised by that vigorous debate I had with a lovely lady at the Provincial Capitol, where, fresh out of college, I worked from 1989 to 1991. It came during the time Gringo Honasan and his RAM cohorts have just launched another coup against Cory Aquino — I think it was the one that almost killed Noynoy. The Capitol lady, clearly talking from experience, opined that she doesn’t anymore care if Cory is ousted; it’s all about power, and whoever wins, it’s the country that actually loses. I, on the other hand, passionately argued that the newly restored democracy will weather these challenges and a better future awaits us because we will have learned from the lessons of history.

It turns out I am both right and wrong. Right that Cory would survive the coups, and eventually exited the presidency with the grace and goodwill her successors never had. But I was terribly wrong about the more important thing — we cannot seem to learn from history.

And she was right on what really matters most — it is the country that loses. Filipinos do not seem to have what it takes to succeed as a nation. Other countries have snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, and bounced back when they fall down. We, on the other hand, don’t seem to know how to win, which starts with getting our act together under a president who can inspire and draw the best from every Filipino. We instead revel in our infinite capacity to laugh at our own misfortunes, mistaking it for the legendary resiliency of the bamboo. But repeated many times over without ever learning, these are really failings that bite, very much like that ancient Bee Gees song called “I Started a Joke” that is probably alien to your Lady Gaga-Taylor Swift-and-Justin Bieber generation. Even then, these failings are no longer funny — because mothers are dying during childbirth; children are growing hungry and stunted, eventually dropping out of school; our population is exploding; and poverty continues to prey on our benighted land.

But there is hope, because there is a better way. What our batch did is probably instructive — we simply ignored the national government and moved on with our lives. Like many Filipinos today, a number chose to vote with their feet and went abroad. Many of them are doing well. In a decade or so, they should be coming home and contribute more directly to community building. Others chose to leave and try their luck in other places of the country, including Metro Manila. But most opted to stay in Bicol, particularly in Naga, like myself and many others who have built their family, career and living in this city we call “maogmang lugar.”

The bottomline is this: We have cut off the static and the crap that came from a central government and its parade of post-Edsa administrations that have failed miserably, and upon which we have very little influence — and decided to rechannel our energies to more productive pursuits.

This process is called re-centering. Here, I take a leaf from literature, by way of the experience of Merlie Alunan of Leyte and Abdon Balde, Jr. of Oas, Albay as described in an article entitled “Center away from the center” which appeared in the March 12, 2011 issue of Manila Bulletin.

Balde, one of the most outstanding Bikolano artists awarded by the city government in 2009, especially came out with this gem: “Centers are not permanent places. I suppose I am just like any writer who creates his own center, and it doesn't matter whether it is in the center or in the margins. What matters is that I am comfortable in my own center.”

By pretending as if the national government did not exist, our batch effectively created their own centers and became comfortable with it. These centers are not constrained by geography — for some, it was Hong Kong or Singapore or Malaysia in Southeast Asia; Dubai, Saudi or Qatar in the Middle East; UK, Austria or the other countries in continental Europe; Australia down under; and of course the good ol’ US of A in North America. For our seamen, it can even be the seven seas of Sindbad, or wherever their ships would bring them.

But for the less audacious ones like myself, who by force of choice or circumstance decided to stay, Naga became our center. And for the past two decades, I had the opportunity to contribute to its growth, its development, its continuing effort to be the “maogmang lugar” its citizens dream about — in the best way that I can.

But more importantly, our batch never forgot we are all connected — that once upon a time, we spent together four colorful years of high school life within the walls of this university, making it our veritable second home.

Which why I am both honored and happy to be here to refresh the landscape of our memories. It is during times like this that we yearn for things that were, and those that never were and didn’t come to pass. Seeing you today reminds me of the very things that make high school that unforgettable, once-in-a-lifetime experience. Like many of you for sure, it was in high school when we fell in love for the first time, so much so that some of our “love teams” survived both the juvenile traps and the temptations of college life and actually ended for real and for keeps. Most others weren’t so lucky, and I’d like to believe it was because they would eventually find someone better. Others chose to be on the safe side and decided to keep the feeling to themselves, and had all the pimples to show for it. Still others would bide their time, and like Ramon Fernandez, my hardcourt hero from the fabled Toyota Corollas, or his counterparts from the much-hated Crispa Redmanizers, would opt to launch their attempt in the closing seconds of the game. But the better ones would cast their net wider, choosing either someone younger or older, depending on their taste and skills.

So, thank you for indulging me and my juvenile reminiscences in this homecoming of sorts — for someone who never really left. You see, I was supposed to be here last December 29, 2010 when Batch ‘85 hosted the traditional alumni homecoming of the university. That was until a virulent illness felled me five days before the big event, and kept me under house arrest for the next three weeks.

Three months later, I am finally home and thoroughly enjoying your company.

And a decade or so from now, my batchmates with hairs graying like mine will come home too, for good — because at the end of the day, there is no place quite like it. And we will have this little big university to thank for, not only for the cherished memories of youth but for a life well lived. And it will be for the greater glory of Naga, and in the best interest of our beloved Bicolandia, that these centers will converge — for good and for keeps.

But enough of the melodrama! Again, thank you and may Jehovah God bless wherever your feet will carry you, and choose to create your own centers.

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