Friday, December 30, 2005

Mugshots!

Hehe. I was googling photos of Ray Bradbury for the previous entry when I stumbled upon this site: writersmugs.com .

Game!

Kaya n'yo bang hulaan king sinu-sino ang mga manunulat sa baba nang 'di tumitingin sa website? May libreng QUESO DE BOLA sa susunod na pasko 'yung makakakuha ng lahat. AT may libreng isa pang pagkasarap-sarap na QUESO DE BOLA 'yung makakita ng one-of-these-things-is-not-like-the-others bonus question!!!! Sino 'yung naiiba?
Sige nga, sige nga!







Harpy New Year


"The newspapers says, says
Says it's true, it's true
And we can break through
Though torn in two
We can be one

I, I will begin again..."

--- U2, New Year's Day

Prends, plugging lang. Firstly, bili naman kayo ng Philippine Star this Sunday, New Year's Day. I've been told an essay I wrote on Ray Bradbury will come out in the lifestyle section.

Ikalawa, bili na rin kayo ng Men's Health Magazine, January issue. I've an essay on poetry plus a few nagpapaka writer, ultra poser-looking photos in borrowed Armani polo. Ahehe.

Tre, baka naman meron kayong kilala na nagtuturo o kaya'y may aklat tungkol sa pag-aaral ng salitang Italian. I really need to study it so I can defend my thesis this semester. Ilang buwan na lang ang nalalabi sa semestre eh.

Ciao! Kitakitchie!

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Father's Lullabye

In the true idea
There is no dying
Because the world is imaginary.

If a flash of green
Foresees our sun as a splash
At least you lived among colors.

Adapt to the night
And since the world has already ended,
No need to fear each night’s sleep.


Fanny Howe
American Letters & Commentary
Issue 16

Friday, December 23, 2005

Boomtown Rat Redux

This week, I'm starting a retro tribute of sorts on seminal bands/artists of the past two or three decades. Mostly because I find many existing music columns incredibly self-indulgent. I think we need less of these collaged, cut-and-paste, namedrop-this-and-that band sort of thing. Let's go back to the music.

Secondly, and honestly, because I simply miss doing music reviews. Back in the mid '90s, I maintained a column called "Boomtown Rat" in the pages of the then Gokongwei-backed Manila Times. It was good while it lasted. Hay...(the faraway look, the audible sigh).

Ehem...Anyway, I'm not saying that the write-ups here will be critical reviews, really. More of "tribute" reviews just to share the poetry and music of certain bands.

So there.

Boomtown Rat

"Philosophy is a walk on slippery rocks,
Religion is a lie in the fog..."
What I Am


Artist: Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians
Album: Ghost of a Dog

Ghost of a Dog is Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians' follow-up to the critically-acclaimed (and much loved) first album, Shooting Rubber Bands at the Stars.

While most second albums have a high suck ratio and often plays up on the pop allures and ditties of the first, this one is immediately redeemed by the intelligent lyrics and stripped-down melody. Ghost of a Dog is easily more melancholic, subdued, and poetic.

Brickell's future hubby Paul Simon and Johhny Lydon (Sex Pistols, P.I.L.) make vocal contributions to certain songs in this album. I'll leave it to you guys to find out which ones.

Choice cuts from the album are the short, folksy ones "Oak Cliff Bra" and the title track "Ghost of a Dog" and the angry "Stwisted".

My fave track is the ballad:

Me by the Sea

I'm glad no one's here just me by the sea
I'm glad no one's here to mess it up for me
I'm glad no one's here just me by the sea
But man, I wish I had a hand to hold

I saw an orange starfish on the side of a rock
I poked on his back & tried to pull him off
A crab scared me away he ran close to my toes
And man, I wish I had a hand to hold

The moon is nowhere almost time for the sun
The voice of the waves sound anciently young
I'm a prisoner of freedom ten toes in the sand
And man, I wish I had a hand to hold

I'm in the habit of being alone
I try hard to break it I can't on my own

I'm glad no one's here just me by the sea
I'm glad no one's here to mess it up for me
I'm glad no one's here just me by the sea

Monday, December 19, 2005

NCCA Writers Prize

Mga friends, bayaw, at hipag, ang saya. I read in the Philippine Star issue today (Monday) that I got the NCCA Writers Prize For Poetry! It's a grant of P250,000 (taxable pa) to write my first poetry book, "What Little I Know of Luminosity". This is slated for publication by the end of next year (hopefully).

Other awardees are Egay Samar for Fiction, Vim Yapan for Short Story, Danton Remoto for Translation, and Rebekah Marahombsar Alawi for Essay.

The money will be given in tranches (i.e., installments) quarterly within 2006. Formal awarding is on Feb. 24, 2006 at the NCCA's Bulwagang Leandro Locsin, in conjunction with the National Arts Month Celebration.

Congrats to the other awardees. I know you all are as excited about this as I am. :)

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

More Bayaw Pics

These ones from Kit's buzznet account.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Precaucion! Precaucion!




Some shots of the band from the recent Writers' Night in UP Dil.
Guess who's the most wasak Chupacabra of the night.

via Eating the Sun

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Rest Of U2 Perfectly Fine With Africans Starving

December 7, 2005 | Issue 41•49 / TheOnion.com

SAN FRANCISCO—Rock band U2, currently on tour in North America, is well-known for its human-rights advocacy, particularly its ongoing campaign to eradicate poverty in Africa. Less known to fans of the Irish supergroup, however, is that the lion's share of these efforts are made by lead singer Bono. The three other U2 members are perfectly okay with the dismal plight of Africa's poor.


The Edge, Larry Mullen Jr., and Adam Clayton.

"Yeah, that Africa stuff is Bono's thing," The Edge said. "I don't mind if he pursues other interests, but I really try to focus on the guitar riffs that give U2 its characteristic sound."

Bassist Adam Clayton, while "not opposed" to Bono's tireless efforts to improve the quality of life for impoverished Third World citizens, is apparently too busy to spearhead an anti-poverty initiative of his own.

"I was happy to help out with the Live 8 thing," said Clayton, referring to the July mega-concert benefit. "But ever since I discovered rock 'n' roll in the mid-'70s, music has been my passion, and I'd be lying if I said it was something different, like helping people."

Clayton added: "I don't have a problem with [Bono] trying to save Africa. Who knows, it might inspire some decent songs. But just as long as it doesn't interfere with the band."

In 2002, Bono started an organization called Debt, AIDS, Trade, Africa to raise awareness of the deep health and economic crises that cripple much of the continent. His fellow bandmates, however, do not lose any sleep over the debt crisis facing many African nations.

"If I could wave a magic wand and cure Africa's problems, I would do that," drummer Larry Mullen Jr. said. "But someone has to take care of the more practical, day-to-day stuff that Bono doesn't really bother with. Like, for example, how's the next album going to sound? How're we going to keep our live act fresh? I can't tell you how many millions of decisions go into making one Elevation tour."

Mullen added: "You don't win 14 Grammys feeding Africans."

In the rare moment they have free, Clayton, Mullen, and The Edge said they choose to relax and rejuvenate, without letting the plight of Africa's starving and disease-afflicted millions weigh too heavily on their minds.

"I have a garden to tend to when we're not on the road," The Edge said. "There's nothing wrong with taking care of your own little corner of the world. I work very hard in my garden."

When asked their opinion about Bono's prospects of being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize within the next year, the music-playing part of U2 could not stifle their groans.

"We had a big scare last year when [Bono's] name was put forward as the new president of the World Bank," Clayton said. "I mean, I have nothing against it, but it would just be more work for us, because we'd be left with the very challenging task of finding a new lead singer."

During live concerts, U2 audiences are treated to a stunning audiovisual experience, with Bono periodically giving his opinion on social and world events between songs. During these interludes, the rest of U2 is often conspicuously silent.

"When Bono starts telling the audience how messed up the world can be and how we should work together to make things better, I usually just zone out," Mullen said.

Friday, December 09, 2005

Bayaw Renga II

Sorry, mga bayaw, ngayon ko lang na-post. Isa-isa muna. :)

Horses nod when they neigh.
I witness this countlessly in the night.
They prance around in the darkness,
restless and affirmative, though
the lights are dimmed and my questions
are far-flung.

A yes returns at these odd times, silent
complicity and radiant noise. I cast
away my shadow: it's agreement
is too imperceptible.

The horse looks at me
and I agree.

For Billy Collins


Javie, Joel, Waps

Monday, December 05, 2005

New Wave Revisited




Wala lang, pero nakakabwiset na. I just have to write this down as reaction of sorts to what I think is a crazy trend in the local music scene. I'm talking about the rise of the OPB (Original Pilipino Brit) sound.

There is a growing and obvious discredit to the '80s new wave scene here. And obviously, it's primarily due to the annoyingly fake Brit accent. Baket pa? Kung cover, baka maintindihan ko pa na tribute kung baga. But if the songs are claimed to be original--and especially if the song is in Filipino--it's outright hilarious to hear the bloody English accents and twangs.

Riff Off

Of course, that's just one aspect of my thirty-something gripe. In the last few months alone, I've seen and heard quite a number of up and coming bands stealing riffs from new wave songs. Again, these are not self-confessed tribute bands like Dead Pop Stars (and believe me, they're ranked among the world's top ten Smiths cover band, according to Spin Magazine) and The Late Isabel (whose repertoire is unabashedly Siouxsie-inspired). Most of these bands won't even claim that their influences are from the New Wave era, hiding instead under the cloak of the "underground" or "indie" scene.

Meron dyang nagnanakaw sa Joy Division, Depeche Mode, Railway Children, The Fall.

Of course this is not at all helped by the whole shebang surrounding Orange and Lemons' (this year's NU Rock Awards Artists of the Year) alleged stealing of the melody and arrangement of the song, "Chandeliers" by The Care. Kuhang-kuha talaga. Yet I hear the band vehemently denies this, which makes it doubly sad.

If you want to have '80s influences, fine. Be proud of it. It's not like people will fault you for that. Oks pa nga 'yun. But plagiarizing riffs is another thing.

In fairness, even the Eraserheads once copied the riffs of another New Wave song called "Reach" by the Pale Fountains for their hit, "Alapaap". But I think they openly admitted it afterwards.

Pero 'yun na nga. The Eheads had already proven themselves by that time. Unlike these other bands whose main claim-to-fame are stolen shit.

Once a certain band in Mayric's (before they became the juiciest band in the country), did a cover of Morrissey's "Suedehead". When they got to the best part, the singers gibberishly chanted, "It was a dubi-ley, dubi-ley, It was dubi-le-hehey..." Ano raw? (Read: It was a good lay).

Heh.

II
And It's Not the Synths

Secondly, what defines the New Wave genre is even not the overindulgence in synths and other electronic devices, but a back-to-basic musicality and lyrical sensibility. Coined by The Cars frontman Rik Ocasek, the term "New Wave" specifically referred to the "second wave" of the Britsound invasion that saw its rise in the early '80s. Ironically, though, it reached its peak at the advent of MTV, tainting the rise of the so-called "new romantics" with the pop calling of music videos and the much-maligned (ugh) fashion sense of the era. It was a new thing to be pop. And, indeed, video killed the radio stars.

The main effect? Simple: Most new wave songs are danceable, or at least had groovy remix versions. Some examples of dance tracks with poetic and philosophical lyrics are Bronski Beat's "Small town Boy," Seona Dancing's "More to Lose," or The Petshop Boys' "West End Girls".

Consider these other "common" new wave anthems:

"I made a pilgrimage to save this human race/
Never comprehending the race has long gone by..."
-- "I Melt With You", Modern English

"Angels fall like rain/
And love, is only heaven away..."
-- "Ghost in You", Psychedelic Furs

"Welcome to your life/
There's no turning back/
Even while we sleep/
We will find you/
Acting on your best behavior/
Turn your back on mother nature/
Everybody wants to rule the world..."
-- "Everybody Wants to Rule the World", Tears for Fears

The term became an umbrella word for all music coming out of the punk era or to bands reinventing themselves for the '80s. (Even the Clash and The Police were considered New Wave in the local scene). New Wave became a generic term for everything from Tears for Fears and Duran Duran to Talking Heads and Wang Chung-- which is almost everything outside Lionel Ritchie and Billy Ocean and Menudo. Heck, even Toad The Wet Sprocket's first single "All I Want" can be found in New Wave compilations.

It was a great era under the dimming Martial Law beacons, with the faint signal of XB 102 coloring our vocabularies of music and alternatives.

Lastly, a song from the American new wave band, Translator (which Los Chupacabras is planning to cover). And, obviously, we don't need OPB accents for this. Ayuz!

Gravity
Translator

In your life there’s someone waiting,
lost on streets that no one travels
In my dream I see this meeting,
we’re a knot that fate unravels

But beyond our shameless sorrow,
catch me if I’m with the wind
We may be the sky tomorrow,
we’re a branch that will not bend

The world is spinning through my head
Your gravity won’t let me go,
You’re holding me together,
No one ever has to know

I’m a dream and you’re fading away,
I’m a dream and you’re fading away

In your face there’s someone sleeping,
lost in years that no one’s counting
The only way to hear the weeping,
suffering is like a fountain

Everything is far away now,
held beyond our nameless sorrow
Shifting streets that no one wanders,
lose the days, we only borrow

Thursday, December 01, 2005

A Long December

and there’s reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can’t remember the last thing that you said as you were leavin’
Now the days go by so fast
And it’s one more day up in the canyons
And it’s one more night in hollywood
If you think that I could be forgiven...i wish you would
The smell of hospitals in winter
And the feeling that it’s all a lot of oysters, but no pearls
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl
And it’s one more day up in the canyons
And it’s one more night in hollywood
If you think you might come to california...i think you should
Drove up to hillside manor sometime after two a.m.
And talked a little while about the year
I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower,
Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her
And it’s been a long december and there’s reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass
And it’s one more day up in the canyon
And it’s one more night in hollywood
It’s been so long since I’ve seen the ocean...i guess I should

moira

i can't believe my little girl's almost two years old
now. ayaw na ngang magpakarga sa kin. naku.
ilang taon na lang, mag memeyk-up na to.
nyay!!


Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Bayaw Renga I

These hands, gnarled as ancient oak
is gnarled, and a question.
The light streams into the room
in happy banners, making
long afternoon shadow,
dismissing the quiet. Surely

there should be noise, much gestures.
Light on my eyes, and I'm blinking
slowly.

What is all this
but passing motion?

Once, this stillness was absent
from the walls of this house.
I would bustle around my room,
arrange photos on a table,
fold clothes, write letters.
The heat of days spent
must have driven me

to such cool, friendly solitude,
to such age.

For Donald Justice

Javie, Waps, Joel

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Why Does Everybody Hate Me?


By Satan

I've tried, I really have, but nothing ever goes right for me. Everywhere I go, it's the same thing: people talking about me like I'm not even there, saying how terrible I am. Telling other people not to walk in my path. Urging that I be shunned and reviled, and commanding me in the name of all that is holy to get myself behind them. I swear, sometimes it seems like everybody thinks I'm the worst entity in creation.

I'm not that bad a guy, okay? I have my flaws, but I'll have you know I used to be considered quite the golden boy back in my day. Do you even know what the name Lucifer means? Depending on how it's translated, it can be "Bright And Shining One" or "Bringer Of Light," or all kinds of pretty names. I'm telling you, I was the fairest star in the firmament once. The only reason I even got kicked out Heaven in the first place is because I was more beautiful than God.

Yeah, well, now look at me. I can't even possess a lousy 10-year-old girl without some geezer in a white collar screaming "The power of Christ compels you!" in my face and insisting that I leave immediately. Look, I just want to connect with a human being for a little while! Levitate a few beds, spin a couple necks around, have some deep, throaty laughs. Is that so wrong? Everybody treats me like some kind of lowlife just because I'm the symbolic embodiment of all the evil in the universe.

Have you heard the things they call me? I can take a good-natured ribbing as much as the next guy, but some of these names are just so mean. Do you have any idea how it feels to be called the "Lord Of Lies"? Ouch. Look, I may be mankind's greatest fears and weaknesses made flesh, but my feelings can get hurt just like anybody else's. "Prince Of Darkness"? How would you feel if everybody called you "The Defiler," or "The Despoiler," or "The Unclean One"? It's not my fault that my terrifying visage erupts into suppurating boils when exposed to the holy light of truth and righteousness. It's hideous enough without people always needing to rub it in.

I'll bet I'm the most despised and hated being in the whole wide world. I even wrote a poem about it once in my creative-writing class, but when I read it out loud, everybody just laughed at me. I only took that class to make friends, but even the biggest dorks there reacted to my very presence with visceral repulsion. I'm telling you, I felt like the lowest of the low. The only way I could get anyone to talk to me was by promising this one guy I'd make his stupid legal thrillers into bestsellers in exchange for his immortal soul. Now he's had a string of hit movie adaptations and I'll bet I don't even hear word one from him until he shows up mewling and begging at the gateway to the underworld.

Oh sure, there are the occasional few who want to be my acolytes, but come on. I mean, have you seen these people? They're plain weird. Sure, they say that the reason they're into me is because they're rejecting society's small-minded notions of petty morality and embracing a world where "do as thou wilt" shall be the whole of the law, but it's pretty obvious that they're really just mad that nobody else in the corporeal realm wants anything to do with them.

I was sort of excited by the ones from the Norwegian black metal scene at first, though. I thought, "Finally, some worshippers who, if nothing else, at least have the balls to burn down a 900-year-old church." Some of them even had girlfriends. But that wore off pretty quick after I caught a few shows. For people who've supposedly sold their souls to the devil, these guys couldn't put together a tune for shit. I mean, I sure as hell didn't trade them any guitar skills down at the crossroads—or whatever the hell the Norwegian folklore equivalent would be—and from the sound of their records, nobody else did either. Let's just admit it—black metal is lame.

And while we're on the subject of my mortal followers, don't believe a word you hear about all these so-called "spawn of Satan"—that phrase gets thrown around quite a bit, but believe you me, most women won't even come near me. I guess I've never really known how to show affection. But I have needs too, you know! I just wish I could meet a nice virgin half-goat woman who totally gets me. But every time I get involved with a receptacle for my seed, it always ends badly.

The only person who understands me is my friend Gene. Sure, he knows I'm a mythical representation of all the tragic and self-defeating fallibility inherent in the human condition, but he doesn't judge me for it. Lately though, I hardly ever get to see him. Ever since he settled down, he's spending more and more time with his wife and kid. I know he's busy, but I miss him. He was an okay enough guy... not quite evil enough for my tastes, maybe, but an okay guy all the same.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Penman Online



And Sir Butch Dalisay Joins the Blogging Community

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Friday, November 18, 2005

Lasang Bebel Gum!


"you're nothing but a second-rate, trying hard, '90s copycat! die, die!"
-- Big Bert
-------

Got this '80s Pop Quiz from the blog of Frank Cimatu for a book he is co-writing with Roland Tolentino on the Marcos Babies. Sige nga, sagutan n'yo.

1. Who was the woman in the Shell commercial that later starred in "Ang Boyfriend Kong Mamaw?"
2. What do the letters T.O.D.A.S. stand for?
3. Who was the host of "Spin-A-Win?"
4. What was the name of the soup that told viewers to "just add one egg?"
5. Who broke a piece of chalk and dipped it into fluoride for a Colgate ad?
6. One of Nino Muhlach's first films, this movie starred the child actor as a boy with the paranormal ability to control insects with his mind. What was this film?
7. If Randy Santiago was a "babaero," then who was the "pabling?"
8. Who played Lola Agueda on the soap "Flor de Luna?"
9. "Ito ay terrible, ito ay buhol-buhol." What TV show is this referring to?
10. Religious figures like American televangelist Rex Humbard and El Shaddai's Brother Mike Velarde have always flourished on Filipino TV, but none were weirder than the long-haired, bare-chested preacher who, while carrying a python around his neck, invited viewers to join him on his "Spaceship ET2000." Who was this man?
11. What was Vilma Santos's "cherished possession?"
12. An extremely talented guitarist, he was murdered just after his band released their much-praised first album. What was his name?
13. "That's the latest from PAG-ASA." This weatherman charmed viewers with his trademark sign-off -- and his heavily accented English -- on GMA-7's news program. Who was he?
14. One of the most wonderfully catchy advertisement jingles of the '80s was in a local ad for Chiclets: "Ang hilig ng bibig, Chiclets" -- then the kids would yell, "Chiclets!" -- followed by the unforgettable "Chicletin mo baby!" According to this jingle, what flavors of Chiclets were there?
15. Who loves you three times a day?
16. Our weekly motto ("Wala ka nang hahanapin pa") is the tagline for what product?
17. What was Kris Aquino's film debut?
18. The skin-crawling voiceover on Channel 13's "Pinoy Thriller" asked every week, "Ano ang nasa dakong paroon, bunga ng -- " What three-word phrase completed the line?
19. "Sa gabi siya'y bonggang-bongga." But in the morning, what did Annie Batungbakal do?
20. In one of the most often-told jokes of the past few decades, Alma Moreno goes to a McDonald's and orders a Big Mac and fries. When the cashier asks " For here or to go?" Alma answers -- what?
21. Dolphy, Chiquito, Balot, Palito, Pugo and Bentot are some one-named comedian names. What was Panchito's last name?
22. "That's the latest from PAG-ASA," the weatherman from Question 13 would say at the end of his weather segment. What was the last thing Inday Badiday would say at the end of "See-True?"
23. What candy, mixed with Sprite or 7-Up, was supposed to make you high?
24. On what U.S. sitcom was Eric Quizon and Redford White's TV show "Buddy en Sol" based?
25. For which basketball team did Billy Ray Bates first play?
26. Every tourist who goes to Baguio comes home with one of these tacky souvenirs: that wooden guy in a barrel with the disproportionately large and erect) appendage. What was the name of the film based on "the wooden guy" coming to life?
27. What was the name of the comic book character that was half-snake, half-man?
28. "May baril, walang bala; may bulsa, walang pera." Who is this referring to?
29. This California-based lite jazz pianist dedicated one of his compositions on a 1985 album to Ninoy Aquino. Who is he?
30. Where can you see the fried chicken on a 10-peso bill?
31. What was the theme song to the landmark film Bagets? 32. Who was it who said "Takot ako?"
33. Gelli, Claudine, Aga, Harlene, Rustom: One of these things are not like the others; which one is different, do you know? (And why?)
34. What animal is depicted on a Jack and Jill Chiz Curls package?
35. What did the cast members of "T.O.D.A.S." do at the end of every episode?
. What did the cast members of Palibhasa Lalaki do at the end of every episode?
37. In the film Tangga and Chos, which comedian, playing a gay hairdresser turned secret agent, starred in his first lead role, opposite Joey de Leon? (Hint: He is not Rene Requiestas.)
38. What is the exact recipe for "Star rice?"
39. You are a guy named Dingdong Avanzado, and you want to call up this girl whom you really miss. But you have no change in your pocket, so you ask some woman for change. How much money would the phone call cost?
40. What product tasted like "bebel gum?"
41. What were the exact three numbers that figured in the Pepsi contest scandal?
42. What is the number on Robert Jaworski's basketball jersey?
43. What brand of ballpoint pen "writes thousands and thousands of words?"
44. In one of the more bizarre rumors of its day, the fitting room (or elevator, or whatever) of this department store housed an enormous python (or a half-snake, half-man creature, or whatever) which preyed on customers. What was the name of this department store?
45. What do the letters "BLTB" stand for?
46. In his films with Rene Requiestas, Joey de Leon would sometimes adopt a particular sideways pose, combined with a slouch of the shoulders. He would then follow this pose with rapid-fire punches at an opponent. Which action star was he parodying?
47. Who was the karate action star that also played a Hitler-like superhero in action comedies?
48. Who's gonna "knock on your door, ring on your bell, tap on your window too"?
49. Ano 'yung tawag sa cartoon marathon sa channel 9 that included blackstar, jana of the jungle, superfriends?
50. Sino yung autobot na nagiging microscope?
51. Sinu-sino yung 13 members of the legion of doom?
52. What is the title of the classic horror movie that starred Lorna T, Rudy Fernandez, and George Estregan?
53. Sino yung laging kasama ni Chiquito sa mga movies n'ya? Eh si FPJ?
54. Sino yung dating hippie na new age preacher sa TV? Naka-afro pa at rose-tinted glasses yun.
55. Who were the three actors who starred in Alagad ni Kalantiao?

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Books of Lumad, Chapter II

Below is the second chapter of the sequel to my 1997 fantasy novelette, Pedro and the Lifeforce. I'm working day and night on this thing lately (while playing Civ IV on the side) for the NaNoWriMo project. Funny thing is, I don't even know how to submit to it. Ahehe.

-----------

Chapter II
SANTA INES

The trip took roughly seven hours, not counting the time Mr. Juliano had spent doubling back when he had followed the wrong exit at the superhighway. Or Raffy’s frequent craving for snacks and his mom’s persistence on finding the most potent mosquito repellent. Mr. Juliano seemed pleased when he found a copy of the most recent edition of The Philippine Provincial Traveler.

It had been a long and tiring journey, and Raffy was feeling really sick, having had nothing else to do but endure his parents’ unending ranting and complaining.

"What's with ethnic bands today, anyway?” huffed Mr. Juliano. “They rely too much on electronic instruments. Honey, don’t you just miss the days when ‘ethnic’ meant ‘natural-sounding’?" The radio was tuned in to a local ethnic music station. As if on cue, Mr. Juliano ceremoniously turned the volume way down.

“But Dad, maybe some people just don't like bamboo flutes as much as you do,” Raffy offered. He actually meant the statement for himself, as he was particularly fond of the native flute. His Lola Adiang had sent him a hupip a few years back. It was a small wooden flute adorned with intricate feather carvings on the sides. He had immediately liked the instrument and had learned to play it by himself, much to his surprise.

And he just loved the melody that came out of it. He knew no other instrument that he could play so well as the hupip. Whenever he put it in his mouth, the rising, lilting music seemed to just come out beautifully. Even his teachers in school would smile and nod their heads whenever he played.

The ride became rough and bumpy as they drew nearer to Santa Ines. The main provincial highway had given way to an uneven stretch of loose gravel and dirt roads. Despite Mr. Juliano's careful (and, for Raffy, achingly slow) driving, the car lurched regularly along the rutted path, spewing dust and pebbles as it went.

The shadows were already lengthening as they entered the barrio. A fantastically gnarled acacia tree welcomed the Juliano family as the car nudged itself into the barrio. Raffy noticed a fading stone marker beside the dusty road, almost overrun by wild cogon grass. Santa Ines, it read.

An assortment of trees hugged the roadside, all brimming with fruits. Ripened and rotting ones likewise littered the ground. If Raffy found this strange, Mr. Juliano didn’t seem to notice. He just swerved the car left and right, trying in vain to avoid the fallen fruits. He began rattling off the trees’ names as they passed them, pointing with a free hand: mangga, santol, bayabas, langka, macopa.

“Never you mind those rotting fruits,” Mr. Juliano said, making a wet, smacking sound with his lips. “You’ll get to eat plenty of them during the summer. Sonia, remind me to ask Inay to get us a basketful.”

“What for?” his wife said. “You plan on taking jackfruits to Australia?”

“Bah! Never mind, never mind...” Mr. Juliano replied. “Hey, we’re almost there, Raffy.”

The road narrowed further into a dirt path wide enough for only a single vehicle to pass. They had to slide to the embankment as a carabao cart passed, moving the other way. Raffy could have sworn the carabao had winked at him.
Raffy could now see a line of thatched-roofed houses, all standing next to small vegetable patches. Like the fruit-bearing trees, the patches were riddled with vegetables.

Mr. Juliano squinted at one of the houses. He stopped the car abruptly and rolled down his window. “Hoy, Mang Juling!” he hollered to an old man sitting lazily by the doorstep, busy stroking a rooster.

The chicken cackled, gave a sidelong glance at Raffy, and said: Am farm animal! Not good at sabong!

Raffy jumped in his seat, his head hitting the roof with a thud.

“Mom, mom! The rooster’s...” he started, but his mother hushed him, her eyes on the approaching old man.

Mr. Juliano poked his head out the window. “Magandang hapon po, Mang Juling. How've you been? It’s been a long time. How's the game at the cockpit?”

The man paused thoughtfully and scratched his balding head. He hesitated before pointing to a nearby acacia tree: “I think the house of the kapitana is just over there, beyond that strange tree. Yes, she's there, I know it. Which reminds me: I have to see her! I need to borrow something.”

There was a glazed look in the old man's eyes. He was puffing generously on his glowing pipe. His gaze wandered off to the side of his house. Quite a few deep yellow and bulging pumpkins were sitting on his vegetable patch.

"Well, yes. Those would make for quite a pinakbet, Mang Juling," Mrs. Juliano said. The old man paid no mind and proceeded to ruffle his rooster's feathers. Then he turned away, the rooster locked in his arms still cackling. Am farm animal! Am farm animal!

"That's funny,” Mr. Juliano said, “Mang Juling didn't recognize me at all. How can that be? He used to take me to cockfights when I was growing up here!”

“Well, his eyes must be getting poorer," offered Mrs. Juliano.

They rode around the large acacia and came to a large two-storey house surrounded by a yard full of vegetable patches. It was already the tallest structure in the area, and certainly looked like it was one of the oldest. The walls of the first floor were made of concrete, and painted clumsily in green, contrasting with the wooden second floor. Raffy thought the house looked like an upside down tree.

They parked the car beside the fence of clustered santan plants.

“Now dear, no need to feel nervous,” said Mr. Juliano as he turned off the engine. “The past is the past. Just smile and try to be courteous.”

“Don’t mind me, Ramon,” Mrs. Juliano said, stepping out of the car. Raffy followed. They began walking toward the house, following a dirt path in the front yard.

“Ramon! Let’s go!” hissed Mrs. Juliano.

“Uh, okay dear, coming.” said Mr. Juliano, though his hands were still glued on the steering wheel.

A woman’s head appeared from one of the open Capiz-shell windows on the second floor. “Oh! There you are!” she shouted.

The next moment, the woman was rushing along the path to meet them, her hands lifting the hem of her long batik skirt like one would the reins of a horse. A trail of dust followed her. She seemed very athletic; the next moment she was there, hugging Raffy and peppering his chubby face with a series of wet kisses. She then began pinching and pinching the boy’s cheeks, all the while sporting a broad grin on her face. Raffy hugged back, knowing at once that this was Lola Adiang.

Finally, just when Raffy thought his cheeks would explode, his lola let go. She held Raffy’s shoulders with both hands and examined his face, all the while chuckling. She looked spiffy for her age. The only things that betrayed her age were the pair of lightweight glasses she was wearing and the trace of crow’s feet extending to her temples as she smiled. “How are you, my dear Rafael! How you’ve grown!”

“It’s Raffy, Lola,” he started.

“Bah! Rafael sounds more manly!” his grandmother replied with a chuckle. “Hey, did you get the hupip I sent you? You know, I had to walk to the highway and stop the bus just so I can send that to you! Well, the driver was not so agreeable at first, but...”

“I have it with me, Lola,” Raffy beamed, pulling out the hupip from one pocket.

“And he can really play, Inay,” added Mrs. Juliano.

Aling Adiang seemed to just notice Mrs. Juliano was there. She laughed aloud, hugging her daughter-in-law. “Sonia, it’s so good to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, mother. Where’s Itay?”

The bangles on Aling Adiang’s wrist clinked as she brought an unlit cigar to her mouth. “He’s inside. That old man’s not feeling so well these days. Will tell you all about it later. Now, where’s my darn son?”

Mr. Juliano had just stepped out of the car and was now tentatively inching his way down the path.

“Ramon!” hollered Lola Adiang. “Come here, you little rascal! What, afraid I might hit you?”

She smiled anew, crow’s feet showing as she hugged her son. Mr. Juliano was on the verge of tears. He held the back of his mother’s hand presently, bringing it to his forehead. He then poked Raffy’s shoulders and nudged him to do the same. "Er, mano po, Lola."

“Well. It’s hardly time for all this,” said Aling Adiang, wiping her face. “The sun’s almost gone and I’m sure you are all starving.”

Raffy nodded vigorously in spite of himself.

“Very good, Rafael. Come on, let's go inside. Your Lolo Enteng’s waiting. I've got something prepared for you after you've freshened up.”

“Is Itay still angry at me? Is that why he didn’t come down to meet us?” asked Mr. Juliano weakly.

“Your father’s not himself these days, Ramon.” replied Aling Adiang, her voice betraying a genuine concern.

“He’s not sick, mind you,” when she noticed Mr. Juliano’s look of worry. “Just getting forgetful. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you. Like I often say, the past is the past.”

When they entered the house, the stink of animal dung assaulted Raffy’s senses. He almost gagged. The first floor served as a bodega, filled with stacks of hay and piled sacks of fertilizer and boxes. In the middle were a few old wooden chairs and a table. Raffy surmised this was where his kapitana lola held her meetings. Through the open door at the back, Raffy coud see a large enclosed area for animals in the backyard.

“Pay no mind to the smell,” offered Aling Adiang, running across the floor to close the back door. “In any case, the goats have disappeared to God knows where. One moment they were there, the next they’ve all gone!”

Her voiced trailed into gibberish. She sighed presently. “Well. Let’s all head on upstairs,” she said leading them to a worn-out staircase behind one of huge pile of boxes.

The food on the table was good enough for a small feast. Lola Adiang had prepared a variety of delicacies: sinigang, menudo, adobo, and some other viands Raffy didn’t know.

"No fish, of course,” said Aling Adiang. “The darn river’s polluted now. There should be kalderetang kambing, but, like I’ve said, our goats have disappeared. It’s been two weeks now. Even the neighbors' goats are missing, too. When I get my hands on those animal rustlers..."

“No need to worry, Inay,” said Mrs. Juliano. "This food’s too much,” said Mrs. Juliano.

“Nonsense! My kaldereta’s the finest, most sumptuous in Santa Ines!” said Aling Adiang.

"I'm sure we can take home the leftovers,” offered Mr. Juliano with a sheepish grin. “And Raffy, I’m sure your vacation wouldn’t be complete until you’ve tasted Inay’s famous kaldereta, but she’s not the best cook in the province for nothing! Let’s all eat!"

Mr. Juliano was right. The meal his lola had prepared was the best meal he had had in a long time. He thought if there was anything to keep him really happy throughout this vacation, it was the thought of his lola's cooking.

A wheezing sound came from one end of the table. "What's wrong, Itay?" asked Mr. Juliano. He was instantly on his feet, proceeding to rub his father’s back. Mang Enteng was coughing, bits of food sticking around his mouth.

Mrs. Juliano handed a glass of water to Lolo Enteng who pushed it away. "Itay, drink some water. You might choke."

"Whaaat? Who are you?" said the old man.

"Itay, It’s Sonia, remember? I'm your daughter-in-law. I already told you earlier," Mrs. Juliano replied, sounding hurt.

Lolo Enteng only gave her a bewildered look and wiped his mouth carelessly. Nobody spoke afterwards. When Mang Enteng finished his meal, he left the table without a word. Raffy wondered what had happened. His lolo had not recognized any of them, including his father.

Lola Adiang called the family aside after dinner. "Please understand that he’s not angry at any of you. He just doesn’t recognize anybody; even me, in fact. Well, maybe his cockpit friends...”

“He’s been like this for quite some time now. He's having trouble remembering things. I've had the doctor from the distant town examine him, but he had found nothing wrong with him. The doctor says he's quite healthy for a sixty year-old."

"But it's too early for Itay to be ulyanin," said a worried Mr. Juliano.

The family had retired to the available rooms. There was no electricity in Sta. Ines, and this bothered Raffy a lot. Already, he had already missed an episode of his favorite cartoon series. He would have to think up of other things to do, especially at night.

Right now, Raffy was getting really bored. He opened his window to let the air in. With a sigh, he unpacked his hupip and started playing a tune. Playing the flute helped him relax.

Raffy looked out into the moonlit yard, toward the silhouettes of the huge acacia tree outside. The notes from his hupip rose up sharp and clear in the surrounding silence. Quite suddenly, he saw a pair of piercing light sparkling from the thick branches.

He stared intently, puzzled, until his eyes got accustomed to the darkness. From the pale moonlight, he could swear that the light came from the eyes of a large black hawk with a stray tuft of white feather on its head. Its penetrating eyes were on him, unblinking. The hawk tilted its head presently and opened its beak.

So here you are, finally--little man!

Then next instant, Raffy thought he heard the sound of mild laughter and wild whistling of wings. Then the bird had gone.

Raffy hurriedly closed the window and hid his face under the sheets. For a long time he lay in bed shaking and frightened, wondering what the bird meant. He lay there for a long time before drifting into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Raffy woke to the harsh sound of metal on wood. He slid his window open to see a frail-looking boy chopping wood with a huge, rusty axe. Raffy thought the axe should be too heavy to wield, but the boy didn’t seem to mind. While the boy didn’t look like he’s enjoying the work, he didn’t seem to look tired.

At last, someone to play with, Raffy thought. He hastily fixed the bed and was about to go downstairs to take a closer look when he heard his lola hollering for breakfast.

"Good morning, Raffy. You’ve overslept a little, huh? Come, come--we have salted eggs, fried rice, fresh fruits, and suman. There's also some carabao milk from Mang Pulding.” Lola Adiang was turning over the plates and pouring milk in the glasses. "It's going to be a busy day today. There will be a town meeting here at ten-thirty."

Raffy sat down and rubbed his eyes. He looked out the window and noticed that their car was gone. “What time did mom and dad leave, Lola?”

“Very early, dear—around four o'clock. They didn't wake you up anymore because they thought you were exhausted from the journey and needed rest,” Lola Adiang said, fanning some flies away from the food.

"They should've let me say goodbye,” Raffy said, frowning.

"They seemed to be in a big hurry, especially your dad," his lola offered. Raffy sat down to eat, saying nothing.

Just then the boy Raffy had seen outside came in and sat on the chair beside him. He looked more fragile and sickly up close and was quite small compared to Raffy’s heft. His skin was almost as pale as carabao’s milk. He smiled weakly at Raffy before reaching for a suman.

The boy unwrapped and dipped the roll of sticky rice in a bowl of sugar with thin, pale hands. Raffy wondered if the boy could eat as much as he does.

"He's your cousin Agoy," Lola Adiang said before Raffy could ask. “As you might
have noticed, he's rather shy, but really does much of the chores around the house.”

“Hi, Agoy. What a weird name,” Raffy said, extending his hand. He casually withdrew it when Agoy didn't seem to know what to do with it.

"Like I’ve said, he's the shy type," whispered Lola Adiang. "But I think you two will get along fine.”

Soon after they finished their breakfast, a handful of people began coming in. Lola Adiang waited for a few more minutes for the others to arrive, but very few showed up. She looked at the few people who were attending the town meeting before stomping her feet in disgust.

"Where is Juling and the rest? They know quite well how important these meetings are! A kapitana can only do so much for the affairs of Santa Ines. I need all the help I can get!”

Nobody seemed to have anything to say. Lola Adiang scanned the blank faces of the people and swore beneath her teeth. She sighed and looked at her notes. “Well, never mind, never mind. To start things off, let’s talk about the lost goats..."

Those who came to the meeting seemed more lost than Raffy initially imagined. Whenever Lola Adiang would ask them for their opinions, they would just shrug and say something incoherent. It was as if their minds had wandered off someplace else. Lola Adiang was turning red with anger when a few suddenly spoke up.

"Kapitana, Can you lend me a few cavans of rice? I can see you've had a good harvest this season," said one woman.

"Can I have a sack of potatoes, please?" said another.

"Please loan me a basket of mangoes please," said another man.

"I've lost my carabao, kapitana!" cried Mang Pulding.

"What the--what are you all talking about?” Lola Adiang managed to spit out her tobacco in disbelief. “Have you really lost your minds? Check your crops! The trees are teeming with fruits and your vegetables rotting in your yards! What's wrong all of you?"

“Kapitana, please help us,” cried everybody in unison, as if they did not hear what Lola Adiang was saying. The kapitana eventually lost her temper, spewing forth curses.

She threw them out her house.

“What happened to them, Lola? They were acting really strange,” Raffy offered, as her lola bolted the door shut.

“I don’t know Raffy. It seems like they’ve really lost their minds. I have to find out the meaning of all this. Something’s very wrong here.” From the upstairs window, they watched the people walk out of the yard, wandering aimlessly in all sorts of directions, like they’ve forgotten even where they live.

“They are acting like zombies, lola,” Raffy said.

“Hmmm...They are acting like your lolo,” said Lola Adiang, scratching her chin. “I tell you, dear, something’s gotten into them. The whole townsfolk seem to have lost their common senses. Well, at least, they’re not causing any trouble. But I’ll find out what’s causing this soon enough.”

“Now,” Lola Adiang said, her face finally breaking into a smile, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. “How about I prepare merienda for you and Agoy”

* * *

For the next few days of his stay in Sta. Ines, Raffy didn't venture outside much, but with Agoy patiently instructing him, he discovered fun outdoor activities like catching spiders and frogs and scooping fireflies at dusk.

Agoy was hesitant at first to talk and play with Raffy, but Lola Adiang had insisted that he watch over Raffy at all times. Raffy found this funny, since he felt he was the one taking care of his meek cousin most of the time. But for all his shyness, Agoy seemed to know his way around the barrio very well, never complaining aloud and always willing to wander into the farms.

By the end of the week, they seemed to have become the best of friends. They would go climbing trees and raiding the neighborhood vegetable farms. At first Raffy did not like the idea of stealing, but when they managed to snatch the biggest cabbage right under Mang Ruben’s nose, they slowly made a habit of bringing all sorts of
crops in the house. They were able to convince their lola, who would stay up late scanning her notes, that they were presents from the townsfolk. In any case, Lola Adiang seemed to be very busy taking care of Lolo Enteng and visiting the neighbors to care.

Agoy generously gave in to Raffy’s every whim, so there wasn’t much to complain about. While Raffy just didn't like his cousin's perennial silence much, he perceived this to be typical dullness on the provincial boy's part. After all, he told himself, I’m the one who grew up in the city.

When the day of the next town meeting arrived, it was very much like the previous meeting, only with even less people. Again, the townsfolk had nothing much to say except that they needed something from Lola Adiang, who was by then chain-smoking her tobacco, all red in the face.

"You know what I think, dear?” she said during lunchtime, after not-so-politely shooing away the visitors, “I’m thinking it’s that blasted smog building up just beyond the river. Have you seen it? Look there.”

Raffy watched the looming dark cloud hovering in the horizon, past the thick line of trees that their lola forbade him to venture into. It looked like rain clouds, but it did not appear to moving at all. Beside him, Agoy cringed and looked away.

“It’s contaminating the soil and polluting the water. It’s most likely the reason why fruits and vegetables are all growing at an unnatural rate!” declared Lola Adiang, as if she had already found this to be true.

To add to Lola Adiang's endless worries, Lolo Enteng woke up one morning crying like a baby, complaining about a terrible aching in his joints. Lolo Adiang tried applying root herbs and coconut oil, but Lolo Enteng just howled in pain and shoved her away. Even with Raffy and Agoy helping, their lolo would just kick and flail his arms.

They managed to apply the oil when Lolo Enteng finally fell asleep, but only to be rudely awakened in the middle of night with the same howling and crying.

"Now, that’s a really bad case of rheumatism,” Lola Adiang said grumpily early the next day, wearing her boots and readying a pack of tobaccos. “What your lolo needs is a drink of the boiled juice of the pansit-pansitan plant. Sure way to cure this. But it only grows near the banks of the river. And I’ve to go get it. I’ll be back before nightfall.”

"Can we go with you, Lola?" asked Raffy.

"No, you boys just stay here and look after your lolo. Besides, like I’ve said, the forest between the river and Santa Ines is a dangerous place. I know the way, but I don’t want to be taking care of two people on my way there. The sooner I get the plant, the better."

"But Lola..."

"No buts, Rafael. Just stay put and look after your lolo."

* * *

It turned out to be a really long day. By lunchtime, the two boys found out that their lolo was missing. They scoured the entire barrio but couldn’t find him. They were about to give up when they heard raucous sound of laughter coming from Mang Juling’s house. They were only too surprised to find his lolo and several townsfolk having a small sabong in Mang Juling’s sala.

“Lolo! Aren’t you sick? Lola had to find pansit-pansitan for your rheumatism. She won’t like it when she finds you here,” Raffy said.

“Whaaat? Who’s sick? Who are you?” Lolo Enteng replied, genuinely surprised at Raffy and Agoy’s presence.

“It’s Raffy and Agoy, lolo, remember?” Raffy said, not at all surprised.

“Er, are you sure you’re my grandson? Who are you?”

“Uh, who are you?” echoed one of the men in the room, not looking at anyone in particular. Then someone else repeated the question, until all the men in the room were chanting the same lines, pointing their fingers on everybody else, all in all making a mild commotion. One was pointing at himself as he asked; Mang Juling was addressing the question to his rooster.

The rooster now stared sideways at Raffy with what he could swear was one reprimanding eye.

Who are you? Who are you? Am farm animal!

Raffy jumped in fright and pushed Agoy forward. To his surprise, Agoy seemed to have momentarily lost his shyness. He stepped up boldly and composed himself.

“Lolo Enteng!” Agoy shouted, his keening voice rising above the din of chants.

Everybody suddenly fell silent. “Lolo,” Agoy continued, his voice coming back to its usual soft tone. “Let’s go home or Lola Adiang will surely get mad at you.”

When Lolo Enteng heard his wife’s name, a glint of recognition seemed to pass over him. His face winced and he began crying. Everybody else in the room seemed to have either recognized their kapitana’s name or just taken the cue from Lolo Enteng. Soon everyone was sobbing wildly.

The boys had to half-drag, half-carry their lolo back to the house. But while Lolo Enteng bawled like a baby, he did not resist. When they finally got him to bed, Lolo Enteng quickly fell asleep, a trace of a smile on his face. Raffy and Agoy stayed with him, both of them exhausted and full of questions.

Afternoon moved into early evening, but Lola Adiang didn't come back. The boys nervously watched the silhouette of the distant forest disappear into blackness, but their lola still didn’t return. They ate dinner silently and fed their lolo, who seemed to be in a peculiarly jovial mood. They stayed up late into the night, their heads poking out the window, looking for any sign that their lola had arrived.

“I’m scared, Raffy,” said Agoy.

“Don’t worry. Lola will be back soon. Maybe she just had a hard time looking for the plant. I’m sure she’s on her way back. She knows the woods; she won’t get lost.” Raffy wasn’t convinced by his own words.

“But what if—“

“I said she’ll be back!” Raffy said harshly. And nothing more was said.

Raffy was determined to keep awake until his lola arrived but his eyes began to feel droopy and he eventually fell into a fitful sleep beside the window.

* * *

He was rudely awakened by Agoy; his ears were at once assaulted by the wailing noise of Lolo Enteng, who was once again complaining about his bones. “Raffy, wake up. Lola still hasn’t returned.”

“What?” Raffy said, jumping from his bed. “She said she’ll be back by nightfall. Something must really have gone wrong.”

“What do we do now?” said Agoy.

“We need to look for her,” replied Raffy.

“Let’s ask the neighbors for help,” offered Agoy.

“Are you kidding? They don’t even know who they are! We have to do this on our own.”

“But who’ll take care of lolo? Lola said we shouldn’t leave him. And he seems to be in great pain,” said Agoy.

“I have an idea which just might work,” said Raffy. “Go get dressed.”

The boys hurriedly brought their lolo to Mang Juling’s house. When they got there, they found most of the men again attempting to play sabong. And, as Raffy had expected, Lolo Enteng’s rheumatism seemed to have vanished the moment he got inside the house.

The sight of the men laughing, clapping their hands, and prodding their roosters to fight each other looked really strange to Raffy, especially because the animals didn’t seem to be interested at all in fighting. The men all squatted in the small sala and watched the chickens scratching the floor and flapping their wings.

“They should keep lolo preoccupied for a while,” Raffy whispered as he stepped
outside, dragging Agoy with him. He didn’t want to stay too long with the animals; he felt they would start talking to him again the next moment.

“Where do we start?” Agoy asked presently.

“Where else?” Raffy retorted. “We have to follow the path to the forest.”

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Civilization IV


I can't believe it; it's time to rule the world all over again. I'm reviewing this for Gamesmaster, together with Age of Empires III. So if you'll excuse me...it's time to frakkin' play!