Dimensions Magazine 2015

imensions i The Official University Student Magazine of West Visayas State University Vol. XXXVII No.1

June - October 2015

Once upon a Flightless A ruined childhood haunts a young man’s life

Time

Espesyalista Sang Talon Ang kasanag nga dala sang Birhen Milagrosa nga nag tulod sang iya talento sa pagpamulong

The grass life Uncovering the humble trade of pang-gamâ

T A B L E of C O N T E N T S 3 Fish Out of Water 6 Lost in Phantasm

Dalawayon nga Mamumugon Flightless

8

Tink’s Curse

10

To the Battle of Huns

14 Unbeknownst 17 Midnight Shift 18

12

Atlantis Found

20 Genie in Scrubs 22 The Grass Life 24 Winter Winds 26 Collateral Damage

Espesyalista sang Talon Into the Wo ods

32

34 Misyon sa tuktok 36 Tale as Old as Time

28

7

FIRST INK

O

nce upon a time, we were fans of fairy tales until we wanted to grow up. Once upon a time, we believed in magic until we discovered the trick. Once upon a time, we dreamt about pixie dust and swords until we had sweet nightmares of reality. Once upon a time, we were inspired to do good until a sudden surge of catastrophe came. Once upon a time, we gave our full trust until we realized the nonchalant existence of fairygodmothers. Once upon a time, we wished for wishes until we found hopes.

Life is like a story book—patiently waiting for experiences to fill every pages of a chapter. It can be torn between tragedy and comedy depending on the chosen theme of the main character. It is written in our hearts and published in our minds.

Have you thought of going back to childhood wherein mistakes aren’t criticized? As we grow up, we took the values of fairy tales in our hearts. It is something that we want to have for a lifetime but maturity tells us that as if it’s a crime when you’re no longer a child.

This issue of Dimensions dwells in the slightest piece of childhood in our very system. Fairy tales don’t define our longing for childhood. It somehow gives us a reason to live in this fictitious reality—to believe in magic as well as to write our own version of fairy tale.

Find your favorite story and try to create its happy ending.

Edelaine & Connie

About the Cover

The Official University Magazine of West Visayas State University La Paz, Iloilo City under the banner of West Visayas State University Forum-Dimensions Publications, Inc. Member, College Editors Guild of the Philippines Editor-in-chief: Edelaine Ellenson Queen G. Encarguez; Associate Editor: Connie C. Durana & Alexa Gianne L. Morga; Managing Editor: Alyssa Jude M. Montalban; News and Special Reports Editor: Marjoe Renz Dominic P. Deita; Feature Editor: Mary Zeliet L. Paris; Sports Editor: Rodelo G. Lopez; Literary Editor: Ann Marie N. Servito; Filipino Editor: Anne Franceine Jean B. Corillo; Online Editor: Carmela V. Paredes; Cartoonist/Art Director: Mark Andrew P. Ituriaga; Photojournalists: Gabrielle Chelsie Marie C. Castro, Charmaine Rose P. Monte; Circulation & Exchange Managers: Jonel P. Amio and Francis Cedie F. Palao Editorial Assistants: Paula Floriz A. Acelar, Jerome Gabriel B. Aguilar, John Carl T. Alonsagay, Joe Renz T. Catalan, Angelie Kaye A. Diputado, Parvane Mae A. Lagon, Riggs Zyrille G. Vergara;

p

Acknowledgments:

Adviser: Dr. Bonna S. Palma; Co-adviser: Prof. Jemuel B. Garcia, Jr.; Dean, Office of Student Affairs: Dr. Leah Mae C. Cabalfin; University President: Dr. Luis M. Sorolla, Jr.

p

Letters/comments/suggestions/contributions are welcome and must be sent to the FORUM-DIMENSIONS Office, 2nd Flr. University Student Center, West Visayas State University, La Paz, Iloilo City E-mail: fd@wvsu.edu.ph Tel No.: (033) 320-0870 loc 1610 http://forum-dimensions.com

Modern-day fairy tale (minus the fairies).

The cover depicts the reality in every fairy tale and the fairytale in every reality.

The lost princess shows us that no matter how much we try to write our own happy-endings, plot twists always find their way in our stories. But then, with the constant challenges in our life, happily-ever-afters are for those who fight villains and stand by goodness’ side until the end.

GC Castro Aiana Kathryna S. de la Calzada Ira Jucaban Alfred Deduyo Tito Zafra III

p

Integrity. Reliability. Commitment.

p

imensions i

1

2

Profile

Lost in Phantasm Words by Jonel P. Amio & Ann Marie N. Servito Illustration by Mark Andrew Ituriaga

N

ot all who get lost are awake and travelling. Others wander while asleep.Science tries to explain the occurrence of dreams but human

experiences deny scientific reasons and point out its inadequacy. Why do the mere repressed thoughts in the brain feel authentic? Does the other

worldly intervene in our subconscious while we’re asleep? What if the queer nightmares that haunt us every night foretell our destiny?

3

We found Becca cleaning her house when we arrived. She wasn’t surprised. In fact, she looked like she was expecting us even though nobody mentioned to her that the schedule of our interview. She said the face of my friend, whom she knows, just came to her mind while she was sweeping the floor. Becca claims to be a dream interpreter.

“Gapati gid ko nga ang damgo indi lang basta damgo kundi personal vision naton ina siya,” Becca said when we started our talk.

She retold the story of Joseph the dreamer and the dream interpreter in the Bible. She said God can speak to us through dreams. Dreams can be warnings, messages and the otherworld’s intervention to humans’ unconscious minds. ________________ “I was having a vacation with my family in an Eco-park at Negros. The place had a mysterious atmosphere with waterfalls all over the area. On our overnight stay, I had perhaps the creepiest dream. I was struggling to breathe. There’s this thing on top of me that’s choking me and it meant to kill. It was a black creature whose gender I can’t distinguish.

The way it moves, masculine, but its body structure resembles that of an effeminate being, short and slim. It has a long hair with a gold and brownblonde color, its face, I can’t fully identify due to the dark shade of its pitch-black skin that seems like it’s been burnt. I woke up thinking that it’s another incident of sleep paralysis that I have experienced a couple of times before. I moved sideways and went back to my slumber. Then it happened again; the same dream and the same black creature. At around five in the morning, I woke up to the sound of my baby cousin’s crying. The next morning, I told my family about my dream. The weirdest thing happened next. My younger brother and my mother had the same black creature in their dreams at the same night, waking up to the same sobbing sound of my cousin’s crying .”

--Ian, COM

4

Becca explained the existence of the unseen spirits and their ability to frighten human beings. These spirits are very close to us although we are unaware of their presence. They threaten us but we are truly more powerful than them. When we sleep, our spirits can interact with theirs.

“May gaistar na nga daan sa lugar nga gintulugan nila kag gusto lang nila ipabalo ang ila presensya.” Becca remarked. “Mayo lang nakabugtaw pa sila.” ________________ “The dream happend for three consecutive nights in my own bedroom. On the first night, I was staring at myself at the large mirror hanging on the wall, I can see half of my body and realized that I’m wearing a dress I’ve never seen before. It was an old wedding dress that looks worn out and I can still remember how it looks like. It was a 90s wedding dress with a dirty white hue. It was if I was a living portrait of a lonely bride with the mirror serving as my frame.

The next night, I had a dream again and

“Oh, you can’t help that,’ said the cat.

‘We’re all mad here.”

-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

it somehow expressed the continuation of my previous dream. I never imagined myself as a pregnant woman but it was what I dreamt about that night. I was still looking but I was already looking down on a bump on my tummy. I just stared at it and touched my tummy searching for warmth that the life inside me must be giving off. It was a weird feeling to touch something like that.

In the last sequel of my dream, my subconscious displayed before me a vision of a family. I was standing in front of the class while holding a baby inside a small classroom when a man took the baby from me and I continued teaching the children. The scene shifted and I was walking toward my man and he was holding our bundle of joy.”

--Margaret, CAS “Ang pinakaimportante nga desisyon

nga ubrahon sang babae sa iya kabuhi amo ang pagpakasal.”

Becca paused and continued, “Ang iya damgo gapakita lamang sang pagkasa grado sang desisyon sang pagpakasal.

Hindi ina siya basta basta. And pagpili sang lalaki, lifetime na ina ang epekto sa imo.

Kinanglan niya isipon sang maayo kung sin-o iya pamanahon.” ________________ “Recently, one of my high school classmates who was found dead from a beach accident showed up in my dream.

I can remember vividly that the setting was in his funeral, his coffin was askew and the flowers looked like they are angrily scattered by someone .

I asked him, “Why are you angry? Tell me your problem.”

And then he talked to me. He was wearing the shirt I lent him in our farewell party. He was asking me to show him the sad Facebook posts of his mother saying that his mother missed him so much. He cried so hard.

I just told him to be happy wherever he is because we, whom he have left in this world, are trying to move on.”

--Irrah, CAS “May problema sila nga duwa sang buhi pa ang classmate niya.”

She explained to us that our spirits meeting the souls of the dead when we are asleep is a possibility . If you had any contact with a dead person in a dream, the spirit wants you to drop by and visit his grave for a while.

Have you ever dreamed about swimming or being in the water? Becca said it’s a bad omen. The murkier the water, the greater the troubles are. She also said that it may be also because of an incoming stress.

If you dreamed about being bitten by animals, such as snake or dog, she said a close relative or a friend must be plotting against you. The dream speaks about betrayal and the dreamer must be cautious.

Dreams about flying have also its own meaning. Becca said it speaks about your ambitions in life. The higher and the further you fly, the greater are your achievements in the near future.

5

Fish Out of Water Words by Marjoe Renz Dominic P. Deita Photos by Rexie Belloga

H

e remembered how he patiently waited.

As soon as he heard the crowd’s deafening applause, he knew it was his turn–and he was determined to put on a show!

As the music started to fill everyone’s ears, he exited the backstage in a gaudy manner with his five-inch pumps and sinuous beige gown- with poise, sashaying with grace, keeping his composure, flamboyant in all the ways of the world.

He was flaunting a confidence he had never worn before.

He was like a mermaid who left the depths of the abyss only to set her eyes on the world in its full splendor.

In front of an amused throng of people, he exclaimed with all pride, “Marlou Esteta, 17, ang sirena ng Second Year Curriculum!”

A Story of Not so Long Ago. Marlou, currently a BS Biology sophomore, has all the reasons to be morbid. One could infer upon knowing every minute detail of his life that his must be a morose one.

When he was in third grade, the seven children in his family lost their mother, who battled with a ruthless case of stomach cancer and eventually succumbed. That was the start of a string of days when little Marlou didn’t even want to see the gilded rays of the sun tiptoe through their little thatched hut in an Igbaras mountainside. Every single day that passed with him still mending his broken heart was utter suffering.

Life continued its transient pace, though, and Marlou traipsed the trail he paved for himself. Later on, another bolt from the blue shook his soul. As he entered senior year in high school, their father, their sole parent who moved

6

heaven and earth for their needs and wants and who gave them a love that was unswerving and unconditional, joined their mother in heaven as the Fates stole his life from them after he capitulated to colon cancer.

For some time, Marlou felt like he had nothing left to lose, but his spirit emerged to be stronger than his teething troubles.

Opting to See the World. Painful was the loss of both his parents, but Marlou was, in many ways, an indomitable spirit– one that does not waver even when the biggest waves flood the shore.

As a youngster, Marlou was pampered as the family’s princess. Yes, trapped in his body is a woman, and his family accepted his temperament and regarded it as a gift.

Sheer joy is what he harnesses in the one thing he is good at–pageantry.

Marlou admits liking boys, identifying himself with girls and making well with them. He’d use curtains to make lovely frocks, and later on, he’d put on makeup, sport a wig, wear high heels, and walk ala Shamcey Supsup.

In the recent acquaintance party of the College of Arts and Sciences, he was one of the contenders of “Reyna ng Agham at Sining”, where he failed to romp away with the most coveted crown but trailed behind at first runner-up. ‘Twas one week well after his victory in “Mess Microbia”, a flashy competition where he dressed up in a black dominatrix outfit as Beyonce.

Marlou’s life is quite gloomy, but the joy he gets in pageantry is his escape from the cumbersome woes that bleed him dry. Just like a mermaid, a phantasm of unequalled beauty, that escapes from the sullenness she feels under the briny blue to go to the surface and see the world, Marlou also

finds utter joy in going to the surface and setting his eyes on the world of pageantry, which is an entirely different world for him.

A Muffled Voice.

“Ang kabuhi, daw pageant na mu.

Tanan nga hulag mo, gina-judge,” Marlou says.

Many times, he had to feel voiceless.

He had to endure criticisms, withstand denunciations, bear the harsh judgments of people concerning his gender preference and his love for pageantry, given that he is defying gender norms.

“Pero wala ko gapaapekto. Kay ngaa man abi? I never feel inferior because feeling inferior means having a weak heart,” he would declare in pronouncement.

“Baton ko sang pamilya ko.

Ginpalangga ko nila sa kun ano ako.

Kag tani tanan nga mga parehas sa akon makabatyag man sang pagpalangga halin sa mga pamilya nila. Masubo lang galing kay timprano pa ginkuha sa akon ang akon ginikanan. Amu na bisan damo naga-judge, wala ko gapaapekto.

Palangga man ko gihapon sang pamilya ko.”

In many ways, Marlou is like one of those enthralling storybook characters that many of us know.

Inevitably, there are times when his voice couldn’t resist being stifled, when he feels like a fish out of water. He yearns for a world that he knows would accept him and where he’d be happy. He believes in it–firmly, strongly, most fervently.

“One day, I’ll wake up to a world that makes people like me feel accepted. Yes, someday I will be part of that world!”

Profile

Dalayawon nga Mamumugon Gindihon ni Edelaine Ellenson Queen G. Encarguez Laragway ni Charmaine Rose P. Monte

S

a tunga sang nagabiti nga adlaw kag mayab-ok nga dalanon, masami makita ining mamumugon nga nagabaligya sang papel nga may laragway kag nagkalain-lain nga istorya tuhoy sa mga hitabo sa komunidad, sosyudad kag sa pinalangga nga pungsod. Ang ini nga papel amo ang gahatag sa ila sang kabakod nga mag-ubra sa adlaw man ukon pagpatak sang kahapunanon bangud ini ang isa lang sa ila ginkuhaan sang pangabuhi-an sa matag-adlaw nga tanan. Ini nga papel amo ang pahayagan.

Pinasahi sa akon mga nakilala nga mga manugbaligya sang pahayagan amo si Manong Ruel*.

Lalaki kag nagapang-idaron malapit kwarenta anyos kag pumuluyo sang syudad sang Iloilo. Si Manong Ruel mahambal nga mapisan ugaling hipuson bangod ini may tuyo lang nga mabaligya ang kumpolkumpol nga pahayagan adlaw-adlaw agud mapakaon ang nagakalam nga tiyan.

Mainit sadto ang silak sang adlaw. Madamo ang mga nagapakadto-pabalik nga mga salakyan kag bagon sa Sto. Rosario Buenavista, Guimaras. Nagapanglakaton si Manong Ruel. Duludiretso ang iya mga tapak maskin lapit na lang mabitas ang suksok niya nga tsinelas. Ang iya panapton syado man ka daan. Ang iya malaba nga buhok nagaululukay tungud waay ini mahusay sing maayo. Ang iya dagway daw kaangay sang mangunguma nga yara sa idalom sang mainit nga adlaw, nagapamalhas kag nagabaka-baka agud matapos ang obra. Si Manong Ruel nagalakat lang kag nagalakat kag ginaagyan ang kada panimalay nga nahamtang sa nasambit nga barrio. Nakatungtong sa iya ulo ang tumpok sang pahayagan nga tuyo niya maubos.

Kada maglabay sa amon balay ining si Manong Ruel, nagabakal gid ang akon amay sang isa ka panid sang pahayagan. Ginabantayan ko gid ang pagsinggit nia sang ‘tag-balay, newspaper’ nga kon sya magasambit, baliskad pa ang pamasa sang letra ‘a’ kag ‘e’. Makita ang kalipayan sa iya itsura samtang iya ginaduhol ang pahayagan sa mga kamot sang akon amay nga daw kaangay lang sang isa ka bata nga nahatagan sang matam-is nga dulsi. Ang dyutay nga pisoson nga maangkon ni Manong Ruel ang iya madala pagbalik sa Iloilo kag mahatag man sa ginkuhaan niya sang pahayagan.

Pila ka kilometro ang ginalakat ni Manong Ruel. Wala niya ginapaminsar ang kakapoy nga iya nabatyag sa malaba nga pagpanglakaton sa pagbaligya sang pahayagan. Bilang isa ka nagalaum nga mangin mamahayag, ako nagakaapektuhan man sa pagpanghimakas nia. Ang iya ginabaligya amo ang mga tinapusan nga artikulo sang mga mamahayag. Indi makaabot sa mga manugbasa ang mga artikulo kon indi tungod sa mga mapisan nga mamumugon nga ini.

Aton pa gid man mapamatud-an nga maski sa pagtuluhaw sang nagkalain-lain nga mga sahi sang buluhaton nga nagasandig sa pag-umwad sang teknolohiya, may yara pa sang mga kaangay ni Manong Ruel nga nagahimakas at nagapadayon sa pag-amlig sa iya nasambit nga pangabuhi-an. Labaw sa tanan, iya man ginapaksakdag sang iya tampad nga pamatasan nga angay sundon sang sin-o man.

Maski ini makabig nga mabudlay, makahawa-hawa, kag ubra nga manubo ang kinita-an, padayon sya sa pagpabagtas sa mayab-ok nga dalan—dalan pakadto sa matam-is nga kinabuhi-an.

Ang pagpangabudlay ni Manong Ruel gapakita sang laragway nga ang kalibutanon sang mga trabahador kag mamumugon indi mahapos kag nagakinahanglan sang malaba nga pasensya ka hugot nga pagtinguha. Sa padayon nga pagpanglakaton ni Manong Ruel, kabay nga aton man matamud ang paghimud-os labi na sang mga gagmay nga mamumugon nga dako ang kinaayo sa tagsa-tagsa sa aton. * Indi niya matuod nga ngalan.

7

Flightless Words by Riggs Zyrille Vergara Photos by GC Castro / Gabriel Chelsie Marie Castro / Charmaine Rose Monte

How can a former winged child learn to walk, knowing that the one who cut his wings is always by his side, waiting to mutilate once again; pretending to be a person of care, when truly a person of maleficence?

B

urning eyes that scorched innocent hearts. Crooked horns planted on a wicked mind.

Elongated claws growing on hands that slaughtered souls. All contained on a red body, as blistered feet walk the underworld, followed by a trail of crimson red and fire. But some villains don’t have horns. Some you may have met or even known for a long time, hiding in the veil of halos. They come at you, befriend you and you will trust them, pouring out all of your heart and soul. And when they have you at full grasp, they will burn your wings and shatter you completely. But deep down these broken souls are kind-hearted princes and princesses that, instead of battling, joined their demons inside.

CRUDE AWAKENING. It was a perfect day for the 6-year old Russ*. He had read his favorite bedtime story and scribbled away on his coloring book. He was rummaging through his blue stickerpampered cabinet when his Kuya passed by and tickled him on his back. The child giggled and turned to a mischievous look on the young man. Russ galloped to the bed, now wearing his cherished pajamas.

Looking at the wall clock, “Goodnight!” he told himself.

8

Hard hands travelled through the limp body of the child while the sound of snores fill the room. Russ slowly gained back his consciousness. The child felt a sudden chill through his bones.

He opened his half-awake eyes and a shadow sat amidst his gaze. Tears trickled down his plump cheeks as he realized the danger that is about to happen. A gleaming smile showed through the dark.

A smile filled with thirst and anticipation.

And he felt that thirst when the shadow’s desire consumed his body.

Moments after, interrupted roars and screeches of excruciating pain can be heard all over the place. A stinging agony can be felt from the overflowing tears of the child.

NEVER-ENDING.“Siguro naubra niya ‘to kay abi niya indi siya madakpan kay permi man wala si Mama kag Papa sa balay.” Russ was only a first grader when it all happened. And even though his inattentive, job-focused parents did find out about it on the first time, it still continued. It was almost every day that Russ has to suffer from the seemingly unstoppable urges of his brother. His only haven is school time.

“Gusto-gusto ko na gid siya isugid kanday Mama kag Papa pero ginathreaten niya ko kag ginasakit permi.

Kag kung indi sila busy, permi man sila

gaaway. Amo na asta subong wala gid sila kabalo nga nagsige ‘to gihapon gali.”

It never stopped until grade 3, when their Mom decided to move to Iloilo City because of his father having a mistress.

His Kuya was left in Manila because of his college studies. Russ felt safe after that.

But what happened beyond became out of control.

CHANGES. Russ was 13 then. He knocked on the door thrice, no answer. He just needed to borrow a flash drive from his older cousin. He opened the door and entered and saw. A sleeping body, bulky and tan, covered in a few sheets.

A surge of heat suddenly emanated throughout his entire body. His trembling fingers are reaching out. He finds his feet maneuvering his body to grasp whatever mystery that person hides that stimulated his urge. He is only inches away from his cousin. But no, he told himself.

He turned away, knowing in himself that what he desired was wrong. And there’s also the possibilIty that his cousin wouldn’t want to do it with him, and his family would know, and they would be disgusted. The fear of rejection daunts him. And that’s the last thing he wanted.

GLIMPSES. Sitting on the unlighted bathroom floor, Russ sobs to himself as memories of his destroyed childhood haunt his empty and lonely nights.

“Tapos sang natabo sa’kon kag sang Kuya ko, daw naglain na guid akon panulukan sa mga lalaki, bisan pa sa mga pakaisa ukon tiyo ko.”

According to him, whenever he is presented with the topics of sex or rape, may it be in symposiums or with friends, he cannot avoid to just uncontrollably sob. So he just usually walks out.

There are also nights where he would just hurt himself by violently punching their bathroom walls and

cutting his skin with blades until he could only think of the pain brought by his present physical wounds and not of the lingering agony brought by his past.

“Sa mga tini-on pa guid nga daw wala ka na gid kadtuan kung may problema, daw gulpi lang siya masulod sa utok mo. Kag makahambal ka guid nga ‘ngaa sa’kon pa ini natabo?’.”

But gone were those days.

EMBRACE. Now a student of West Visayas State University, Russ looks back on his experiences and the impact it made on him. He now knows in himself what he truly is.

“Bisan amo ‘to ukon indi ang

rason sang kung ano ako subong.

Batunon ko na lang. Ara naman na.

Wala na ta may maubra. Kag siguro may nabulig man siya sa mga bagay nga nalab-ot ko subong.”

T h e p a st m ay h ave s h atte re d t h e w i n g s o f h i s h o p e . I t m ay h ave t u r n e d h i m i nto s o m e k i n d o f d ev i l , h o p i n g to a s k fo r m o re o f t h at s h atte re d n e s s . B u t R u s s ca m e b a c k to h i s t r u e s e l f. A n d h e b ro u g ht t h at w i t h h i m a n d m a d e i t b ette r. H e d i d n ’t m i n d i t at a l l .

B e ca u s e w i t h t h e a bs e n c e o f h i s w i n g s , h e l e a r n e d to wa l k a n d m ove fo r wa rd . *not his real name.

“I had wings once, and they were strong.

But they were stolen from me...

They could carry me above the clouds and into the headwinds, and they never f altered.

Not even once.”

– Maleficent

9

TINK’S

curse

Words by Jonel P. Amio Photos by GC Castro / Gabriel Chelsie Marie Castro / Charmaine Rose Monte

10 Model: Ann Marie N. Servito

A

nd so after quite some time, Wendy decided to go back. It was hard for Peter and the Lost Boys, but not for Tink. She has always been jealous of Wendy. It was blissful for her, Wendy’s departure.

But on top of all Tinkerbell’s jealousy, there was mischief. She wants Wendy to take something from Never Land; something that’ll give her a hard time in the real world. And so did Wendy. But she’s not Wendy anymore. She’s another person now.

Meet Christine Joy Gallego, her friends call her ‘Joyjoy’, a 21-year old woman in a body of a 6-year old girl.

She lives a life different from most of us, aging but not growing.

Profile high school, she decided to see her pediatrician. The doctor advised them to consult a gynecologist. By then, they confirmed her condition.

Even upon her survival, her brain was injured that later manifested to her present hormonal deficiency.

Seeing Never Land. At first, acceptance didn’t come so easy.

Joyjoy has to come in terms with her condition and adapt to whatever is inclusive of the package. People won’t believe her when she tells them her age especially those who barely know her. Some even mock her condition calling her “bata”. Some people won’t even entrust her a task because all they can see is a vulnerable girl. “At

has unwaveringly supported her for fifteen years as a single parent. Joyjoy sees her condition as a gift from God. It’s a challenge.

“Ginhatag ni sa akon ni God to be an inspiration that even I am small, I can do what others can do especially what the big ones can do,” she said.

Joyjoy graduated Bachelor of Arts in Political Science at West Visayas State University last March 2015. According to her, the diploma she received during graduation is the greatest milestone she achieved for it affirmed her hard work and dedication despite her condition.

Currently, she is preparing for

“Ginhatag ni sa akon ni God t o be an inspiration that even I am small, I can do what others can do especially what the big ones can do.”

Forever Young. Joyjoy has a growth hormone deficiency. This medical condition is caused by a low or absent secretion of growth hormone from the pituitary gland. This can be congenital, one that is present at birth; or acquired, a condition that occurs after birth.

The latter validates Joyjoy’s case as the history of her condition traces back to fifteen years ago when she was in comatose suffering from meningitis and hydrocephalus. There had been a little to no hope but Joyjoy was a survivor. It was during her sixth grade when her mother noticed something odd. Her face looks the same and she’s literally not growing for years. In third year

first, gaka-hurt ko pero nasanay naman ako.” The saddest part is, some of Joyjoy’s relatives give negative comments about her too. But she just brushes them off like what she always does.

Puberty was a ‘never’ for her.

“Kay siyempre gusto ko man maexperience ang pagdadalaga”, Joyjoy said jokingly. Being a self-confessed NBSB (no boyfriend since birth), she admits having many crushes. But none has dared to cross her walls for in the eyes of the many, she’s just another random child.

Happy Thoughts. Despite these struggles, Joyjoy has managed to handle her situation flexibly with the help of her mother who

the UP Law Aptitude exam next year. These are her stepping stones towards realizing more of her life dreams to set forth for another adventure. ___________________ “So come with me where dreams are born and the time is never planned. Just think of happy things and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land!” These were Peter’s words of persuasion. But our Wendy won’t stay. She wants to know the real deal, in the real world.

And so neither did Peter’s nor the Lost Boys’ or Tink’s decision prevail. It was Wendy’s; to step out of childishness and be mature about things. We can fly, but landing is as well essential.

11

to the battle of

Huns Words by Ann Marie Servito and Carmela Paredes Photos by GC Castro / Gabriel Chelsie Marie Castro / Charmaine Rose Monte

Valiantly, a girl sacrificed her own passion for the sake of those she holds dear.

12

H

er Monday mornings were dragged down by envy and selfpity. She pulls the books she were holding closer to her chest, pacing faster as she avoids the other girls her age in their university uniform. Clutching her left hand, the small child keeps up with her abrupt acceleration. She goes to school, too. She goes in an elementary school to meet her role as a ‘yaya’ of someone else’s child. This is not giving up on her dreams. This is a sacrifice.

THE DILEMMA. To stroll on hospital corridors in her white scrub suit—that is Tessa’s childhood dream. Her excellent marks speak her enthusiasm towards her chase to the destiny she wanted. Her mentors, friends, classmates and family can’t wait to see her become a successful nurse.

“When I was in first year, my grandfather fell ill.” Tessa started her story.

“The only person who supported my studies was my uncle and I could see we were a burden for him.”

Being the first born, Tessa sees her siblings’ dreams to be as precious as hers.

One of her brothers ardently desired to be a seafarer. It was more than what can their poverty can afford.

She needs to stop her schooling. It was a battle between what she wanted to be and what needs to become for the people she cares about.

“When I finally decided to stop school,

it was the lowest point of my life.” she described.

For a fleeting moment, she paused as if trying to express a buried thought.

“The course that I wanted the most was the one I could not take. No matter how much you want it, if it’s not for you, circumstances will hinder.”

Her conscience as a daughter and a sister defeated her young ambitious cravings. Tessa desperately accepted the offer of being a ‘yaya’ for a distant relative.

She has greater endurance for her batch mate’s criticisms than the thought of her siblings’ barrenness and empty stomachs.

She gave way to the fulfilment of her sisters’ and brothers’ future by pausing on her dreams.

HER DISGUISE. The submission of drop out forms cemented her decision of sacrifice. Diverting to the new path, she took the unknown journey to the battle of life against poverty and misfortune.

With her head down, she accompanies the small girl to school.

This daily task opened her eyes to the beauty of teaching. Near the elementary school is a place where special children go and learn. This stirred a new hunger inside her, knowing that her goals aren’t limited to one. To be an educator is valiant and she can be anything she wants.

Tessa worked for a close kin who is a district supervisor in the Department

of Education. For years of staying in her workplace, she took her employer’s counsel of the years as clusters of wisdom passed on her.

“She said I am growing up, not getting any younger. Your batch mates are already succesful,” Tessa smiles as she recalls what her employer told her. She told her to weigh her options well and choose the right career path.

Tessa portrayed her working days as a period of meditations and happy times.

What she thought as the dead years of sacrifice turned out to be an interval of actualization. Victorious, she emerged from the battlefield.

FRESH START. Her brother’s graduation signalled her return to the university. Her siblings already realized their dreams and it is time for her to put her sword and armor down.

She pursued the new degree which fate has shown her. She chose to be a Bachelor of Special Education.

The combat gave her a fresh identity and a different calling.

When asked for her message to the fellow youth, she spoke while she smiled, “If they have a goal, you have to reach it without stepping on other people.”

“If you have a dream, it will not easily come to you. You have to work hard and sacrifice because success is sweeter if you know you have worked hard for it.”

“My, my, what beautiful blossoms we have this year. But look, this one’s late!

I bet when it blooms, it will be most beautiful of all”

- Fa Zhou, Mulan

13

dDEVELOPMENTi

Atlantis FOUND

Scouring the truth behind the sinking Iloilo City myth.

Words by Carmela Paredes and Parvane Mae Lagon Photo Source: www.archian.wordpress.com

A

round 250 BC, Plato wrote about a beautiful island located in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. For nine thousand years, this magnificent seafaring civilization existed and had attempted to take over the world.

After a cataclysm of earthquakes and floods, the city was swallowed by the waves and sank into the sea.

14

Two millennia later, another growing city was stated to sink.

Some historians of the country claim that the city of Iloilo is a sinking city because of its infelicitous location in an island. Due to this, buildings to be constructed within Iloilo are only allowed to be a certain feet tall. If the buildings and other infrastructures were too heavy for

the island to bear, it would case the city to sink.

Mr. Jose Penalosa, head of Iloilo City Planning and Development Office, however, said that Iloilo City is not a sinking city. The reason why Iloilo City did not build tall and heavy infrastructures was because of the texture of its soil. The river structures surrounding the city cause the soil to

Profile dDEVELOPMENTi

b e clayish and beach sand-like, which makes it impossible for tall buildings to be constructed. Years later, due to the progress of technology and the economic stability of the country, Iloilo City was able to use the method of pile driving. Pile drivers are mechanical devices used to drive poles into the soil to provide a better foundation for buildings and other structures. Once the device has hit the bed rock below the soil, they stop and start laying the first foundation for the building to be constructed.

O n July 24, 1916, the Philippine National B a n k established its first branch in Iloilo. Located in General Luna, this was the first infrastructure to use pile driving. The next infrastructure to use this method of technology was the Hall of Justice located in Bonifacio Drive, Iloilo City Proper. To note, until now, these first two buildings are still standing tall.

Despite the myth, various skyscrapers had been made visible as well within the city such as the tallest Condotel, Injap 21, with 21 floors located at Diversion Road, Mandurriao Iloilo City; Richmonde Hotel with 14 floors situated at Iloilo Business Park , Mandurriao Iloilo City; and Iloilo Business Hotel with 10 floors positioned at Smallville Complex, Mandurriao Iloilo City.

The Gaisano Tower is projected to have about 40 floors to be placed in Diversion Road, Mandurriao Iloilo City, the One Front Tower with 18 floors and Lafayette Park Square with 16 floors both to be built at the Kapideco Area, in Mandurriao.

Iloilo City has been likened as the Lost City of Atlantis because of its sinking may be myth, but Iloilo has proven that it could be the Atlantis because of its steady growth and developement.

15

16

Profile

Unbeknownst

By John Carl T. Alonsagay

B

lessed are those who are born with gold spoon in their mouth.

Unblessed are those who eat their breath for dinner. Yes, there are no real happy endings that glowed in the midst of a dimension called time.

We sat down at their newlyfurnished bamboo hut in the midst of the burning noon sun. I grabbed my old recorder and prepared my throat for a series of questions. I observed a hammock swaying gently inside as she was scooping the powdered milk she brought at the sari-sari store outside, mixing it with tap water in the baby bottle and shaking it gently.

Tears started oozing from her eyes, I felt uncomfortable seeing her like that and asked to reschedule our interview. Her nerve-ridden hands made some gestures and I saw her hesitate, as if unsure that I should listen to her story, I didn’t knew her until she spoke her first words- words that still bear pain and shame. Her life was forsaken by time.

FATUOUS AMBITIONS. Mae* graduated with honors in a local high school in Antique. All hopes are already set for her bright future. As a perfectionist, she is a leader and a model student in her high school days. She is perfect except for her social status. She knew that she is no match for her classmates’ higher social standing, April was supposed to be a season for students to hunt scholarships for college but she stood idle until one summer night when Mae received a call from her Aunt in Manila.

Her aunt instructed her that she should go there so she could continue study there as a working student.

Her classmates have already done it, working as a house helper in order to earn money. She was tempted by the opportunity that she immediately asked help from her indigent parents

whose income comes from selling fish in the barrio.

Mae couldn’t still wait for another year to pass, she tried everything even if it means clinging on a knife just to uphold her pride.

“My greatest fear that time is not to able to step into college,” she recalls, “I tried everything even stealing.”

As I ask her why did she did it, tears began oozing in her eyes. She could still remember how she betrayed her parents just to seize that alluring opportunity.

“You feed the f oolishness and it feeds on you.”

STRANGER IN THE METROPOLIS. Defying her parents’ promises that they’d try finding a scholarship, with only a few hundred pesos, she set herself in a journey into the crowded Manila. She is a country girl that knew nothing about the bustling metropolis and yet dismissed it as she courageously carried her goal on.

When she arrived at her Auntie’s house, she was welcomed with full hopes. She was brought into giant malls and rode fast trains. She stayed in a sub-urban residence with two kids, her Auntie, and Uncle.

Every day, she is requested to clean the floor, cook and wash dishes, wash clothes and any house chore she could do. She didn’t mind what they order her, as long she could fulfill her goal. She ignored her parents’ mobile messages- still having hatred in them.

“I could not really bear what I did to them”, she said to me as she looks away. Days passed by and she noticed that June is already coming and they still haven’t found her any college to get in.

She then tried asking her aunt, only to be snubbed several times. She later realized she was just using her as house helper earning 400 pesos a month. She is always reprimanded, and received slaps from her aunt. She realized that her decision to go there is a huge mistake and she turned into a very risky move for her to take: to escape.

ENDLESS RUE. She fled into oblivion.

Not knowing where to run.

“I asked help from my high school classmate who is also working also as a house helper, I stayed there for a while”, she recalls.

Mae did whatever she can do in order to survive in the city, she worked as a helper in a sari-sari store, and she lived with her friend in a small room with her classmate that was almost as stenchful and spaceless as a prison.

In the midst of her struggle comes her emotional need, she met a high school boy that she befriended in her two-year stay in Manila.

“Our relationship developed in just three weeks,” she said “until I figured that something is wrong with my body, something sprang, until I realized that there was life inside me.”

In that moment, her whole world turned gloomy, unimaginable and she tries to suspend reality.

“He rejected me, and he cut his contact with me ever since I told him that it was his child, he sternly denied it.”

She returned home with all her savings gone, wept at her mother’s arms and his father ridden in his bed.

There are now two mothers in their house.

She took Yeshua, her child, out of the hammock. The only silver lining she got from her nightmare.

“All my mysteries in life were never his fault.” she told us. “He is the reason my life still is worth something. He is my salvation.”

17

A split-second of hope is enough to battle a hundred reasons pushing him down.

Midnight Shift Words by Angelie Kaye A. Diputado Photos by Gabrielle Chelsie Marie C. Castro

G

“

ood night man, Attorney,” he said, smiling as he slightly bowed his head. The middle-aged woman returned the smile and entered her room.

Upon hearing the lock click, Rey* heaved a sigh and tiptoed slowly.

Seeing his bed felt like seeing a sumptuous meal after a week of hunger.

He quickly climbed on top of it and smiled as his back felt the warmth of the mattress, and he bitterly smiled when he felt a tear escape from his eyes. His body was already shouting for rest. But his mind was still bothered with a lot of problems in his studies.

11:59PM. The transition begins.

He bids good bye to the tired Rey who mopped the floor, who trimmed the grass, who washed the dishes, who ironed the clothes. The next day, when he wakes up,

18

he’ll be a typical student who chases full jeepneys hoping for a ride, who rushes to the classroom to make it to his 7 am class, who dreams to be successful someday.

“Doble kara” as they say, but it’s the truth.

This is his life.

“Sang sa Pototan ko, may naghambal sa akon kung gusto ko mag-ubra sa bata ya sa city bisan wala sweldo basta pa-eskwelahon lang nila ko,” he started.

It’s about two years since he left his hometown for the sake of his dreams.

He is a typical struggling student in the day and a houseboy until midnight. His mother can’t send him to college because there are seven more mouths to feed so he looked for ways that would make his dreams closer to his hands.

Rey is the fifth child, and like the other families in their community, they

found a hard time earning a living so he, himself, started working as a houseboy because he was hoping that it could give him an opportunity to continue his studies.

“Ang reason gid kung ngaa nakabalo ko mag-ubra sa tawo because na sa stepfather ko. Gusto ko magpalagyo sa iya kay palahubog na, maoy pa. Most of the time, ginapalayas ya kami. Tapos ginapabalik naman pagka-aga. Muna ngaa nangita ko mayo nga rason para makapalayo sa balay,” Rey added.

Life as a house boy isn’t easy and the Php1200 allowance per month was not enough. After his tiring day in school, he has to go home immediately because tons of chores await. From the kitchen up to the garden is expected by his masters to be taken care by him.

He admits, he is a different person when he wears that gray uniform who enters the portals of the university he’s in and he is also a different person when he puts down his bag, takes off his school uniform and faces the pile of dishes on the sink.

The 12 am bed time is not even new to him. It already served as a turning point in his life. As the clock strikes 12, he knows that he’s a typical student again in the morning, with a smile plastered on his face, pretending that he isn’t tired of the life he has.

“Kung daw ma-give up na guid ko, napanumdom ko nalang ang mga kauturan ko nga nabilin didto. Kapin pa nga ako pa lang ang nakatungtong sa amon walo sa college. Hindi ko gusto nga maagyan nila ang naagyan ko subong. Muna dapat nga makatapos gid ko para mabuligan ko dayun sila,” he narrated.

He always keep in mind that despite all the hardships that he has gone through, giving up is always the last option. No matter how many 12 o’clock bed time he experiences, still, he’ll continue to fight. __________________ When the clock struck 12, Cinderella left her shoe on the palace staircase hoping that one day, the prince would be looking for her no matter where she is and voila! They lived happily ever after.

However, when Rey’s clock strikes 12, he leaves all his complaints, doubts and fears of what may happen the next day because he knows that when he keeps on leaving all those negativity every time before his midnight bed time, he’ll be waking up in his own happy ever after.

19

Collateral O Damage Words by Alyssa Jude M. Montalban Photos by Charmaine Rose P. Monte

20

ne look at her, sitting at the edge of bed, her face illuminated by the gas lamp, one might say she could have been beautiful. The years of hardship and struggle, however, had taken its toll, adding a certain kind of weariness to her aura. To the untrained eye, she looked calm – serene even. But to those who knew her story and her struggles, one could detect the falling of a lone tear and hear the hushed whisper of “ginasumpa ko, indi na gid ko magbalik.�

SOCIETY Laments and Fears. The tiny room, only 2 meters by 6 meters in size was barely decipherable outside. The walkway that led to domicile was the final resting place of many things – a broken doll, a lost slipper, all blending with the murky waters ejected by a nearby bathroom.

The air smelled of stale ammonium and excreta. Like many makeshift dwellings beside the Tanza Cemetery in Brgy. Tanza Timawa, it has the perpetual battered look of broken doors and peeling paint.

In this area of the city where the citizens lead the life of the marginalized and the overlooked, children with hungry and empty faces are a common sight.

Twilight had already descended upon the busy alleys of the community when we finally reached her home. We found her sitting outside in a broken bench, her silence a stark contrast to the noise of quarrelling neighbors and children playing piko.

The first time we met her, Nanay Pat had graciously led us to her humble abode while narrating that they had been living in the area for barely 3 months. The interior was so sparsely decorated with one double bed, a square table and gas lamp that one might need to take a minute to fathom how a family of 6 members could live in such condition. They had no electricity, no source of water and no stable employment. Just like any family in the area, they are struggling daily to budget the meager P100 income her husband brings home daily. Their skills in planting, mastered in the sugarcane fields of Panit-an, Capiz, was useless in the concrete jungle of the city.

“Kabudlay gid sang pangabuhi diri, wala kami kabalo kay bag-o pa lang kami diri, ti amo lang ni anay amon masarangan nga klase sang pangabuhi,” narrated Nanay Pat. To those who never knew their story, theirs was a life lived in misery. However, to those understood their struggle, they are survivors who had found a fortress, a safe haven, a promise.

Howling Winds. To Nanay Pat, the horrors of the lashing winds and the destruction of everything around them was something she wouldn’t dare

return to. Hailing from Panit-an, Capiz, her home was one of the few thousands Typhoon Haiyan had destroyed. However, the destruction of their home was not the only thing Typhoon Haiyan had left behind, for along with the displacement of their lives, Nanay Pat and her family became a victim to a paralyzing fear that sent them to alleys of Iloilo City.

“Nagkalaguba na ang amon balay kag ang kahoy nagkalatumba na, ato kami sa puno sang lubi nga utod nagpanago para nga indi kami maagyan sang bagyo kay ang tunog sang hangin naga ‘tingaw tingaw’ tapos ang amon atop naga baliskad balintong na sa karsada,” narrated Nanay Pat. Nanay Pat also shared how they managed to survive the aftermath of the event. “Sang mga alas tres na kag daw wala na ang bagyo, nakita gid namon nga wala na ang amon balay kag ang tubuhan nga gina uma namon wala na man. Kaldero kag bayo lang namon amon nasalbar.” That was when they decided to gamble their security in exchange for an escape.

Psychologists call it anxious avoidance, a defense mechanism rooted entirely in the fear of confronting a traumatic incident. Usually, people with cases like this tend to avoid anxiety provoking situations at all means and is considered as a form of negative coping.

While other people may only see their poverty and their illusion of security, for Nanay Pat and her children, no price is high enough for escape.

“Indi ko gid to malipatan ang ginagyan namon, kag indi ko gid malipatan ang kahadlok nga nabatyagan namon, indi na ko magbalik sa Capiz, ginasumpa ko gid.”

On the alleys of Tanza. A year after meeting Nanay Pat, we are once again a guest to her home. Nothing much has changed – the room was still small and the furniture sparse. However, a much deeper look would bring the observer to notice that the door has been painted yellow, inscribed with the words ‘God Bless Our Home’, that Nanay Pat and her children are smiling more, laughing at little jokes and blushing at the mundane praises. It looked as if the

family had finally recovered.

“Indi na man budlay, kay bal-an mo daw nakita ko man bala nga kumpara sa uma, mas mahapos lang di mangabuhi sa ciudad kay lapit ka sa tanan,” Nanay Pat shared, reminding anyone who care to listen that she will always remain firm in her decision to never go back to her place of origin.

However, the issues Nanay Pat and her family are facing in connection with the typhoon Yolanda has not yet come to an end. Just recently, the 52-billion fund released by the Department of Budget and Management to various agencies intended to provide support and financial assistance to the victims of the typhoon has not reached its beneficiaries. People like Nanay Pat, who had suffered from complete damage of their property is entitled to receive a financial assistance for housing.

Nanay Pat also relayed that “Wala gid kami may ginbaton halin sang una ah, kay bisan ang mga Kano nga mabulig tani sa amon wala nakadangat sa amon banwa, tani makabulig pa to ang mabaton namon.”

According to reports from the Department of Budget and Management Secretary Florencio Abad, the main reason that prevented the government from efficient distribution of these funds was not the lack of it, but rather “the problem is the assessment, preparation, execution, and delivery (of aid). Presently, thousands of families have not yet received any form of support from the government – support that could have not just built houses but also a their future. ____________________ “Pro bisan ano matabo, diri na lang kami ya sa Iloilo, kay ti ari na ang amon pangabuhian, kag manami naman ang amon pangabuhi diri.”

To those who never knew their story, theirs was a life lived in misery, oppression and scarcity. But to Nanay Pat, their new life came in like a sweet apple, and just like Snow White, she is willing to pay the price just for that one sweet bite.

21

g

Profile

enie in scrubs

D

Words by Jerome Aguilar Photo by Ann Marie Servito

r. Henrieta Cabado-Española was rearing to go. The rising sun peered through the window, casting streaked shadows through the blinds of her office room. The day was set, and she had a line of activities enough to make one scratch her head in frustration.

Then, a faint image of someone came bursting into her memory: a man in his 50s, drinking a cup of coffee beside her table. Yes. Around this time, he’d be starting his daily rounds too. The usual bustle, as always: duties by the clinic early in the morn, then school work the next. That person never had the word ‘rest’ in his vocabulary. As long as he had that zeal, that unrelenting spirit we’d call ‘perseverance’, she knew, he would do what he does best in ways more than one: making people smile.

Roseller Rafael Cabado, or ‘Tito Ross’ as his family and friends would call him, wasn’t born extraordinary. He was the second child of a brood of four. His parents,

22

an electric engineer and a public school teacher, taught him to enjoy the simple life, and he spent most of his childhood years in the company of his older brother and sister, whom he both had a tight bond with.

“It was like even when we were kids, he made me feel that he loved me.” Doc Henny, Tito Ross’ younger sister, gladly made a statement. “And he loved to cook.” She ended with a grin.

West Visayas State University’s College of Medicine became his proving grounds right after high school, and it wasn’t long before he became one of its first graduates.

Perhaps, he felt compelled to serve his alma mater that years later, he found himself back to its academic halls, in the shoes of an obstetrician-gynecologist. For a time, he was WVSU-COM’s Associate Director, the Chairman of the Department of Human Biology, and adviser of the WVSU Medical Student Council. But above anything else, he was, in the eyes of his students, a humble, caring educator.

Profile It was another busy school year.

From his office, Tito Ross watched intently as Med students flocked the COM building. He was well-aware of their dreams, they were all the same: to earn the right as future physicians.

A certain undergraduate caught his attention. A working student, she was problematic over her tuition fee, and what she had was still not enough to cover it.

Knowing how hard it would be for a student’s dream to be shattered, Tito Ross came to her rescue. He offered to shoulder her expenses, but kept his name as sponsor anonymous. The student was overjoyed. She thanked him, her seemingly ‘mysterious’ benefactor with a written letter, and he saw her march on to her graduation day.

Such was the deed that made Tito Ross for who he was: a good Samaritan with a heart set to service. And it wasn’t just one. There were others he met with the same dilemma, getting into money crisis in the midst of schooling. Either he would tip his own sister, or she herself would tell him ‘Uy, buligi anay to’, Tito Ross would help them, regardless of the situation.

“The deeper reasons for it, we don’t really know. It might’ve been his destiny. Probably in his other life, he was somebody else. But I know it makes him happy.” Doc Henny explained. “He cared a lot for his family, for his friends, to his patients, and to the organizations he joined. He would always give his best, and he loved making people happy.”

Tito Ross liked his eventful life. He was an obstetrician-gynecologist as well as a teacher, and a jack-of-all-trades on almost any field one could think of. He was wellloved by his students, and he’d waste no time to helping them succeed with all the humor and wit he could muster.

Sadly, he faced a huge setback: he was stricken with diabetes mellitus. In spite of his frequent hospitalizations, he was never a deed too short. He’d resume his clinical and school duties, causing his tending physicians to worry about

his fading health. He would never let his illness show, yet the apparent sighs and twitching of his facial muscles would betray his unrelenting facade.

“It was one night, and we had just come home. He admitted to urinating pure blood. We found out he had a mass on his kidney, and it might be cancerous.

So, he opted to have the kidney removed.”

Doc Henny recalled. “I told him ‘You know, you’re already in a bad stage, and it might just kill you’, but he told me ‘It’s ok, I’ll still take the risk. Who knows? I might just recover’.”

Even when he was permanently bedridden after the operation, he wouldn’t let up. He’d invite his sister to join him in heading back to his clinic, just to serve others again. On March of 2010, while the song ‘Far Beyond The Stars’ floated in the hospital room, he passed on, hours after his father, Lolo Edong, died a few rooms away in the same hospital.

“Why don’t we make a stage production using the talents of the students?”

The words Tito Ross said to his sister one day as they were both cooped up in work rang into her ears. It happened before the doctor’s illness worsened, and he was starting to feel sick. The idea clearly spelled his insight. He wanted to further his help to the Med students through fundraising, and he knew there was an abundance of talent hidden amongst the faculty and staff of Med waiting to be discovered (He was a sincere lover of performing arts). Doc Henny had her hands full that time, and she felt she couldn’t do it.

“When he died, somebody actually called me. It was Mr. [Edwin] Duero, who came from a performance in the US, and he said, ‘You might want to put up a foundation, a fund-raising in his name. It was like, serendipitous, but actually it was meant to be.”

With the help of Tito Ross’ other ‘family’ members in COM, the FFR committee (Family and Friends of Ross) created the erudition that married the late doctor’s love for culture and the arts, and his commitment to the College of Medicine. His lasting memoire.

Thus, the Dr. Roseller Rafael V. Cabado Memorial Scholarship Fund was created.

In February 2014, the WVSU Cultural Center buzzed in feverish anticipation.

Soon, the curtains will part to stage the musical spectacle of talents the Medical students have to offer. It was a proud moment for the organizing committee, the FFR. Doc Henny was there, watching happily from the sidelines. In the back of her head, she solemnly wished the star of the scholarship’s founding was there to see it.

Since 2010, the scholarship bearing Tito Ross’ name had been of great help to deserving COM scholars, and their most recent stage production Love Gives: A Musical Variety Show, was a final performance coordinated with the retiring Dr. Elma Marañon, chair of the FFR. Doc Henny sighed. Everything in the past is now but a fleeting memory.

How she wished so see him again, her doting brother who was always there for her. Her eyes shifted to the clock.

Duty calls.

Doc piled her tools of trade and hurried. Her sadness began to fade, as a new emotion came over: gladness. She knew her brother’s jovial,

endearing spirit wasn’t completely gone. As long as his well-wishing legacy lives on, his hopes, his dreams and his aspirations will remain.

23

The grass life Words by Connie C. Durana Photos by Rodelo Lopez

24

Profile

H

e takes only what the land could give him. In this case, it is in the form of gigantic grass stalks whose mature height could reach up to 30 meters. Lucky for him, the vast mountainous terrain that is as familiar to him as the lines of his calloused palms is thick with the verdant goodness of one of the most well loved grasses: the bamboo.

Some people relive poignant memories by inking biographies, but for Basil, his life’s memories are built upon stack after stacks of bamboo slats, sprout upon sprouts of bamboo shoots, and the eerie whistling of the wind against the sensuous, primitive dance of the slender stalks. If only these stalks could talk, they would tell stories the ink and paper never could.

Basil Piojo, now nearing the age of 55, started to cut bamboo to earn by age of 15. He is a third generation bamboo cutter and he learned the craft by observing his father. But the process of learning was a painstaking cycle of trial and error. “Ako man lang nagtuon. Ginatudlo man lang kanakun kung diin ang sakaon. Kung indi ka magsaka, indi ka man makamaan,” says Basil.

Bamboo cutting, or pang-gamâ, as the locals call it, is literally a make or break deal. It’s either you make it to the top of the bamboo and make your cut of the day or you get unlucky and break a few bones in the process.

Basil woke up at 4 am and starts the journey on foot from his home in Abay, Maasin, with his carabao to Sta. Rita, an uphill barangay eight kilometers from his home. There, he scrutinized thickets of bamboo and choose today’s cut. He then climbed these giants of a grass braving its vertigo-inducing height with their

occasional sway. Every climb for Basil is a balancing act for his life and for almost 40 years, he had survived these acts. It was not however, the vertigo Basil is concerned about but the dugî, or the bamboo thorns measuring about an inch or more in length. They could make an ugly cut, Basil said in Kinaray-a.

After harvesting the bamboo stalks, which would be around 20 stalks in one round, Basil made a balsa out of these stalks. He rode the balsa to the downstream area of Tigum River leading them five kilometers away to barangay Daja, the pickup point of bamboo buyers. In Daja, he disassembled his balsa to prepare the stalks for organizing them according to size and function. Bitlag refers to longitudinally cut bamboo used for fences; layon refers to mature bamboo cut in full length; and tercera is the relatively younger and shorter version of layon.

It takes bravery to ride in Basil’s makeshift balsa. Though the bamboo stalks are sure to float due to its porous and hollow material, the surging waters of the Tigum River could be a bit less friendly.

The possibility of crashing to rock boulders and capsizing mid-journey are imminent. But beyond bravery, one could only survive this trade by keen observation–the depth of the river, the incoming weather, the integrity of the bamboo stalks.

It’s not every day, however, that Basil was as flexible as the bamboos of his usual life. Back in his 20s, he left the trade to seek a less laborious job.

He went to become a hired helper for someone in town but it didn’t take long before Basil went back cutting bamboo for a living. He reasoned

that the work didn’t fit him and it was more difficult to work for another person. Here in the lush growth of bamboo in the forests of Maasin, he found his place in this world and he is the master of his own pace. ‘‘Ang kawayan matubo man lang ran, gahulat tapsun,’’ Basil said while having his midday rest. He sat atop the piles of bamboo he had cut that morning. He’d be back cutting down those giant grasses by 3 pm when the sun is set at an angle of tranquil heat.

He’d call it a day at around 5:30 pm when all his patrons are done packing up for delivery.

The bamboo from Maasin will most likely be marketed in Iloilo City and surrounding municipalities such as Leganes and Sta. Barbara. Back in Maasin, Basil will walk back or ride on his carabao again to his home in Abay. Despite the back-breaking and daredevil labor he had done for the day, he’d be lucky to have Php500 at most in his pockets.

Despite the growing market for bamboo, the craft of pang-gamâ remains an alien of a trade for most.

For Basil, he could always exchange his job for an easier one, yet, what he could not trade is the assurance of the land and growth.

There is a security that only the land of his hometown could give.

A security which now sends his daughter to college and all his children in time.

Bamboo grows at a rate of three to ten centimeters in 24 hours until it reaches its full height. It is persistent, efficient and resilient. Man, like Basil, can never equal such strengths but somehow Basil is just one man who represents a trade that at the very least emulates these ideals.

“Kung indi ka magsaka, indi ka man makamaan.”

25

Profile

Winter Winds Words by Francis Cedie Palao

Trapped in a war-ravaged era in history, one harsh winter changed the fate of a young girl.

B

efore her eyes, mounds of inventories filled the already crowded office desk. She has just finished flipping and scanning each entries. Today’s logbook is still downstairs and she is about to move her wheelchair when her entire body revolted in exhaustion. She laid down her ebony black glasses on one of her vouchers and tried to sleep. Her business here in Iloilo is growing steady. A good night sleep might not be bad for a reward, she thought as her mind faded to black and memories of old came rushing in.

Winters are long and cold in Harbin, Heilongjiang, China. A city in the historic region of Manchuria now known as the Northeast China Plains. Ms. Kuan Li* was born in this “international city” wellknown for its Russian legacy but recently it holds the moniker “Ice City” because of its winter tourism and attractions. Having one of the most bitterly cold winters among Chinese cities, its past is even

26

harsher than the cold heart of death itself.

It was 1926 when the Chinese Civil War broke out between the Kuomintang (Chinese Nationalist Party) and the Chinese Communist Party led by Chiang Kai Shek and Mao Zedong respectively. Ms. Kuan’s father died fighting the Red Army and her mother suffered from depression for years, ultimately committing suicide in 1930. The Siberian winds crept to Ms. Kuan’s heart as her will to live crumble to icy fragments.

It was 1932. Her arms are already red and trembling. As if she carried the whole world atop her small shoulders, the large metal pipe is almost as heavy as her body. Just to earn a few fens, orphans like her has to work for Imperial Japan when they occupied Manchuria.

“When you have money, you can buy foods. When you have nothing to eat, you will rot away in the streets of Harbin. The wooden carts collected hundreds of corpses every night,” Ms

Kuan remembered with a grim.

Ms. Kuan continued grinding over the day’s work under the Japanese Kempeitai’s supervision. The cold outside is close to sub-zero and the soldier assigned to keep an eye on them fixed them with a steely gaze. She tried to still her mind.

She focused her breathing and chanted the mantra of Qigong, a Chinese practice of meditation. Since the day the Japanese took over Manchuria, she knew that her end is already imminent. She has heard of the rumored human experimentation in the nearby Pingfang District and it is only a matter of time before she became the next guinea pig. Her fate is sealed yet her breathing is hurried. “I realized back then that I’m afraid to die. I ran as fast as I could to the exit. The others looked at me with bewildered eyes. The Japanese fired a warning shot. The next shot will kill me.

I reached the exit and the soldier did not follow. He knew the cold will kill me,” Ms. Kuan narrated.

Profile According to The Pacific War Online Encyclopedia, Unit 731 was the principal Japanese biological warfare research center during the Pacific War. Located at Pingfang, Manchuria, about twelve miles (19 km) south of Harbin, the unit was founded in 1932 under the direction of Lieutenant General Ishii Shiro, who was a trained medical doctor. Unit 731 was organized into eight divisions. The local cover story for the facility was that it was a lumber mill, and its staff thought it hilarious to refer to their victims among themselves as maruta, “logs.” The maruta numbered at least 3 000, mostly Chinese but also some Koreans, Russians, and British and American prisoners of war.

Test subjects were sometimes dissected alive without anesthesia at the conclusion of experiments.

The cold crept upon her like tentacles of Death piercing every blood vessel, freezing every nerve. She ran bare foot upon layers and layers of snow in the street. It was like running through hell that has frozen over. As her feet

Photo source: twoeyeswatching.com

grew numb from the cold, she noticed that black spots is forming in her feet.

Ms. Kuan’s running slowed as she felt down to her leg and feet is heavier than the concrete she used to carry. Out in the cold, alone and forgotten in the Ice City, she was ready to embrace death.

Why was she running away from him?

He has seen him in every stage of her life. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

She woke up in heaven. The familiar face of her childhood friend, Mr. Zhang Juzhi*, carrying a bowl of chao fan gave her a wave of nausea. He told her that he became a guerilla soldier continually fighting the Japanese and that their current location is one occupied territories of Chinese forces. As her eyes grazed below her body, only two short appendages was all that was left of her former legs. Mr. Zhang said that her legs have to be amputated due to the gangrene caused by the hypothermia when he found her lying in the streets.

She cried in his shoulders but without the

excruciating pain she always felt when in grave sorrow.

She opened her eyes, the mounds of paperwork lay where she slept last night.

The challenges of the peaceful world issued its challenge as the first rays of dawn brought Ms. Kuan hope.

The war has ended, the cruel hands of fate is still grabbing Ms. Kuan. When Mao Zedong died in 1976, chaos was everywhere upon Communist China. Ms. Kuan migrated to Shandong and eventually to Philippines as her friend has started a business in Iloilo, although steadily declining due to heavy ravages of war, the Queen’s City of the South has been one of the central hubs of Chinese commerce. She became a feeds entrepreneur in downtown Iloilo and since then, she has been living with content, away from the wartime memories of her motherland. “Although the excruciating memories of my homeland prevents me from coming back, the pull of homesickness is still strong,” Ms. Kuan said, longing for a return to Harbin. *not their real names

27

Espesyalista sang

taL n

Gindihon ni Anne Franceine Jean B. Corillo kag Alyssa Jude M. Montalban Laragway ni Gabrielle Chelsie Marie C. Castro kag Charmaine Rose P. Monte

28

Profile

N

Didto nya nahibaluan nga kinahanglan sang malain ginhawa. Maskin ang iya apuno ang iya mga mata sang kasanag nga nagpa indis-indis. nya na magpuli ugaling ang iya lawas naga pamilya indi na man kakilala sa iya. Klaro pa sa iya nga memorya ang sabat sa tanan Kasanag nga kaangay sang matam- pasubir.

“Ginsunod ko ang hambal nila nga nga pagtilaw nga iya naagom. “Amo lang is nga paglaom. “May kasanag sa ibabaw nga daw imahen bala sang mahal magpakaisog lang ako, indi ako mapatay ini ang buang nga pagakinahanglanon nyo nga birhen, amo na sya ang medalya sa pagtilaw, mapatay lang ako sa gid sa ulihi.”

Likom sa Ihibalo. Nag umpisa ang Milagrosa. Amo to ang ginpatindog ko sa kahadlok… indi sa pagtilaw. Ginsunod ko ibabaw sang bato— ang rason nga nag na gid lang ang mga pahanumdom para tanan sang may indi kinaandan nga tinuga kabalik sa ginikanan ko hasta nga natapos ang nagdala sa iya sa kweba. Didto nya na amo sini ang kabuhi ko…”

Sa iya kubos nga paminsaron ko ang mga pagtilaw kag gin balik gid man diskrobehan nga Diosnanon man sila. Sa wala nahibaluan nga hitabo, may kapid napatay ang kahadlok. Sa tagsa ka tikang nila ako”, saysay nya sa mga hitabo.

Sya gali ang ginkuha sang mga indi sya nga isa ka espesyalista sa lugar nga indi pakadto sa unhan sang bato sa tunga sang taramnan ginapuno ang halog nga kinaandan nga tinuga nga indi makita sang malab-ot sang normal nga tawo.

Tungod sa isa ka paltera, gintago ang garapon sang iya kaugalingon. May isa ka normal nga mga mata.

Pagbalik. Ginhumlad ang iya pagkatawo sang iya nga kapid. Ulihi nalang kweba didto— kag sa indi maintiendihan nga misteryo, iya nahibaluan nga ang kapalaran sa pagpamulong. Nakabalik nila nahibaluan nga sang nagbata ang iya alagyan naga lusot sa Pilar kag Isla de sya sang natapos ang duwa katuig nga iloy, may nauna sa iya. Yadtong kapid nya pagkadula. Tungod kay hilaw pa ang ginkuha sang nakaputi nga tinuga kag sa Gigantes.

Ginhigop sang hangin ang gamay paminsaron sa panulok sang kadam-an, sobra nga kakulba sang una nga paltera, ko nga ihibalo sa mga misteryo. Kaupod talagsa sa malaka nga patihan sya. Pilit nya wala ini nanugid hasta nga nag abot ang sini ang talithi nga nagburibud sang nga gina sugid ang kamatuoran hasta sang ikaduwa nga paltera nga nagpagwa sa iya.

Gin baton sya sa sosyodad sang katungdanan sa mga bagay bagay ginsukot na sya— ang pagpanawag sang nabulong nya ang naga masakit nya nga nga indi maeksplekar sang siyensya. pagpamulong.

Amat amat sini nga gin muklat ang akon tagipusuon sa mga It was a sort of dance tune with a lively rhythm that made tinuga nga indi makita sang normal nga mga you want to tap your feet and snap your fingers. He gave mata. Gindala ako sang a little hop, skip kind of step and out the door he went. He akon mga dapa dapa sa isa ka pagkahimtang. started down the street playing his pipe and dancing his Didto naglagating ang unod sang isa ka kahon little dance and sure enough, out came the rats. kag nag dala ini sang -The Pied Piper of Hamelin retold by Judith Lawrenson madasig nga pagkubakuba sang akon dughan, indi tungod Kapila sya madulaan sang maestra. Umpisa sadto ginpatihan na sya sa kakulba kundi tungod sa kakibot.

Yadtong lugar kaangay sang ospital may pagginhawa. May yara man sang ti-on nga sang tawo. Sang nag edad sya 18 indi lang kinaiya nga instrumento sa pagpang- hinali inogbalsamar na sya kag nagbalik sya basta basta nga nagapanghilot kay ang iya pagginhawa. Sa iya nga pagbalik nagapang opera na sya. opera.

Mahibaluan nya kung masarangan Mga Pagtilaw. Duwa ka tuig na kaupod ang misteryo sang kweba nga ang naglabay sang sa indi mahibaluan mangin rason sang pagkagamhanan sang nya bulngon ang pasyente sa pamaagi nga rason sang sya nadula. Mauti man kaugalingon. Sapaglabay sang panahon, sang iya bato. Kung indi nya masarangan ang pagpangita sang iya ginikanan sa iya. amat-amat nya nga gin atubang ang wala gid sya gaduwa-duwa nga Sa pagdapya sang hangin sa matawhay realidad. Nagbalik sya sa pag-eskwela kag magpangindi.

Mabudlay patihan sa dulunggan nila nga kabukiran daw nagahutik ang nangin normal nga bata. Ugaling indi nya posibilidad nga hinali buhi pa sya hasta mapalagyuhan ang kamatuoran nga sya sang kadam-an ugaling libo libo na ang iya nga nag abot sa tion nga ginbaton na may abilidad nga lain sa tanan – abilidad nabuligan bisan wala sya sang tinapusan nga nahanungod sa medisina. Hasta lang lang ang iya butigon nga kamatayon. nga iya nahasa sang iya pagkadula.

10 anyos sang nag umpisa sya gid sya sa sekondarya apang nagaayo Masakit man batyagon ugaling daw wala na gid sang tsansa nga magabalik pa sya. panghilot sa eskwelahan. Madamo lang man ang iya nga mga pasyente sa bulig Tayuyon nga nangabuhi ang iya pamilya sang mga istorya nga nagabalabag sa sang pagtuo sa Makaako. Madamo man kag pilit nga ginahalokan sang adlaw kag iya halin sa mga tawo nga wala salig sa sang mga pamangkot nahanungod sa bulan ang pilas nga ginhatag sang nagligad. sacramento. Indi nya maintiendihan ang iya nga pang opera, apang ang may Apang ang indi nila mahibaluan amo ang natabo sa kaugalingon, ang iya gulpi nga ihibalo sa medisina makasiling nga ang kung ngaa may mga tini-on nga nagabalik pagpamulong. Masakit batunon ang tagsa ka instrumento nga iya ginagamit ang iya tingog sa sulod sang ila panimalay realidad nga ginasal-an sya buang kag wala sang kinalain sa mga ginagamit sa malala pa nga masal-an sya nga alagad ospital. ugaling indi man sya makit-an.

29

Ang Pagpamulong. Ma-sami nga magkari sya sa talon para mangaykay sang dahon-dahon. May yara man sya schedule sang pagpamulong sa nilain lain nga bahin sang norte. “Ang pagpamulong ko bali tama gid ka sensitibo. Nakabulig ini sa linibo nga tawo, wala ko ini ginapabugal sa tawo, kag indi siling nga ginagamit man sa malain.”

Kwarenta’y nwebe ka tuig na sya nga nagabulig sa naga kinahanglan maskin sa mga tawo nga nag duwa-duwa sa iya kinaandan. Kaupod nya ang libro sang ihibalo nga masami nya tawgon God the Father, The Son, The Spirit, sya ang ginakadtuan sang mga tawo nga wala nadulaan sang pagtuo bisan siyensya na mismo ang nagtalikod sa ila.

Iya man ginsaysay nga indi lamang mga tawo sa iya banwa ang iya nabuligan kundi amo man ang mga tawo halin sa iban nga pungsod nga nagpalapit sa iya sang mabatian nila ang iya istorya.

“May yara ako sang Hapon nga nangin pasyente nga ang iya asawa napa-ayad ko halin sa sakit nga leukemia. Kag ang akon instrumento naghalin man sa isa ka doktor sa luwas sang pungsod sang napaayo ko ang iya tiil nga nagakadunot.”

Sa kadamo sang iya nabuligan nga mga tawo, imol man ukon manggaranon, pwede na tani sya makapangabuhi sang komportable, apang hugot gid ang iya prinsipyo nga indi mabakal sang sinako nga kwarta ang iya pagbulig gamit ang abilidad nga ginhatag sa iya.

“Wala ako nagapamilit nga patihan ako sang iban, kay nabal-an ko nga indi mo ma pwersa ang tawo, kag tanan nagadepende gid sa imo pagtuo.”

Kultura kag Kasaysayan.Humalin sang una, kabahin na sang kasaysayan kag kultura sang mga Pilipino ang pagpalapit sa mga manugbulong para mapaayo ang mga sakit-sakit kag katol-katol sa lawas.

Suno sa pagtuon sang pila ka mga eksperto, ang pagpati sang tawo sa supernatural gikan pa sa aton mga katigulangan kung sa diin sila nagapati sa mga dios kag diosa nga naga impluwensya sa tiempo, sa pagpananom kag bisan ang pagdaog sa gyera.

Sa pag-abot sang katolisismo sa pungsod, ang mga manugbulong nag-umpisa na sang paggamit sang mga orasyon kag palangadion sa ila nga pagpamulong kaupod ang paggamit man sang mga dahondahon.

Sa pihak nga bahin, suno sa RA 2382 ukon ang The Medical Act of 1959, may mga balasehan para nga ang isa ka indibidwal makagamit sang medisina sa pagpamulong kaangay sang iniskwelahan kag sertipikasyon.

Apang ang paglapnag sang alternatibo nga medisina kag pagpanghilot sige-sige man sa gihapon kapin pa sa mga kabanwahanan nga malayo sa ospital ukon mga pasilidad sini.

“Ang akon pagpamulong depende ina sa tawo kag kung sya bala may pagtuo.” __________________ Yadtong lugar kaangay sang ospital may kinaiya nga instrumento sa pagpangopera.

Kag bal-an ko nga ining pinasahi nga tawo, indi kumon nga manugbulong.

30

Profile

31

Into the Woods Words by Paula Floriz Acelar Photos by Charmaine Rose P. Monte

A

child is like a blank slate. Innocence wraps his being. Uncertain of the world. But as time goes by, there will always be an “ink” to fill the blank page; new things, new experiences, new people. Good or bad. Yes. We all have our big bad wolves that swallow us down a dark, slimy path. Some are easy to identify, but most hide behind a sheep’s clothing.

TO NOWHERE. The word family had meant different for Nico. His family was broken at the age of 14. He had four siblings, all in the care of his mother in Barotac Viejo.

In the contrary, he was left in the care of his

32

“Tito Lando,” staying in a small barrio in the town of Barotac Nuevo. When his uncle got sick, his mother brought him to Guimaras to take care of the ill-fated man.

But tracks of destiny took its course, taking the life of Nico’s uncle. Right then, he thought that everything will be fine. Yet, he thought wrong. When asked about how his relatives treated him there, Nico just stared at the cemented floors and barely talked in whispers: “It was horrible. When my uncle died, my relatives treated me like a nobody.

Like I wasn’t even there. I even had to find food for myself. That’s the reason I ran

away” TRAPPED. Nico was unsure. But he was left with no choice. Step by step, he walked the paths of uncertainties, like a little boy walking alone into the woods-surrounded by perils of different kinds; snakes, spiders, wolves.

His feet brought him to the marketplace of Libhon, Guimaras-his new home. And right there, he fell into the traps of the big bad wolves.

“Bordyok”, 17, was the first friend Nico had since he ran away from home, the first one to show him a bit of kindness he needed at a hopeless time. Little did Nico knew that

Profile his friend was not as kind as he thought.

“Bordyok”, together with middle-aged men taught him to live a life of theft. He began stealing in grocery stores, fish stalls and vegetable stands. But Nico knew at the back of his mind that he was not in the place to refuse.

INTO THE WOODS. Days passed like the monsoon winds. Stealing became a normal habit for Nico. But just like any other good ol’ days, there were bad ones. A regular vendor asked them to run a few errands and they will get paid in return. What a good opportunity, they thought. Under the scorching sun, with sweat profusely running down their faces, they finished what was left for them, but when they asked what was due for them, the vendor just turned with a cold shoulder. Anger and revenge swarmed Nico,and an evil idea slowly filled his head. As the night descended from the heavens, Nico and his team crept in the marketplace to get their payback. They

stole the money from the vendor’s stall, but the police, aware of what’s happening, got the worst of them. Almost. As fast as they could, they left the place. And into the woods, they went.

OF BLOOD AND SWEAT. When everything familiar seemed to disappear forever, Nico found a decent way of living.

They did garaw—chopping down woods and gathering them in bundles. These will be sent to town costing P2000 per truck. The truck’s owner will get P400 per delivery made, and the remaining P1,600 will be distributed equally to Nico and his companions. He was contented, but in the back of his mind, he just can’t help but to reminisce the past and bury his regrets.

DARK TO LIGHT. It was late that afternoon when the chief “tanod” took him from where he worked and turned him over to the municipal jail. It turned out that his companion turned against him and revealed where he was. Nico

was scared. He was sitting beside a police officer, waiting for him to take him to the prison cell. “They were interrogating me about what I do and all that stuff. Then I started vomiting. They had me checked to a doctor, and found out that I had Hepatitis A,” Nico recalled.

BACK HOME. Nico’s suffering was nearly over when the police brought him to the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD) and waited for someone to claim him. “I was thankful and nearly in tears when Tito Lando claimed me and let me stay in his house,” Nico remembered as he talked, now looking straight.

Nico was no longer a child. He knew that. He is now responsible for all the decisions and the actions he makes.

Although, his big bad wolf succeeded to take him at the beginning, a compassionate man, his Tito Lando became his wolf-hunter and brought him to the light.

“My f amily treated me like a nobody, like I wasn’t even there.

That’s the reason I ran away.”

33

Tale as Old as Time Words by Mary Zeliet L. Paris

“Ashamed of his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle.”

-Beauty and the Beast

Photo Credit www.loobinc.com

O

n the other side of the beautiful chaos of urban life, behind all the city lights, buzzing traffic, and high-rise buildings, lays a secret not so hidden. Intricately concealed behind bunk houses and hovering concrete walls is a giant of oddlyshaped mountains. On a hunting spree, farmers-turned-scavengers in their gear of buri hats and homemade hooks swarm its jungles to explore the maze of its thickets. But this is no ordinary mountain. It’s 100% man-made.

IT’S 100% MAN-MADE. Calajunan Dumpsite is the city’s 23-hectare trash bin. From food leftovers to scrap metals and even fetus corpses, this smoky

34

mountain is where all of the city’s waste is piled up. Ginormous, this dump is not found in the middle of nowhere but within the same district as world-class hotels and restaurants, vibrant party capitals, beautiful brick bike lanes and even the iconic Paraw Regatta-inspired Iloilo Convention Center. Ironically, Calajunan Dumpsite is in the city’s business district and money-maker: Mandurriao.

Ilonggos flock the district day in, day out. From malls, cafes and watering holes, Mandurriao is always brimming with life. Go-to places for food trips, shopping sprees, and bar-hopping, this hype side has been the face of the

district. Like a beast locked up in some tower, Calajunan Dumpsite has been hidden in the shadows of the moneymaker’s grandeur.

Probably not many have laid their eyes on the crooked mountain or able to set foot in its squishy heap of rubbish but what the Ilonggo is not alienated to is the stench of decaying garbage that reaches as far as Jaro and Villa. Though its neighboring slums have grown immune to the foul odor, the pungent smell just doesn’t match the face-lifted urban jungle.

URBAN DECAY. Many of the world’s biggest and fast-growing cities are also facing garbage problems.

New York City has been exporting its garbage to five other states. Hong Kong’s garbage dilemma is compared

by The Culturist to an Empire State Building-sized trash dumped every 27 days. New Delhi, India’s capital and home to 21 million people, produces almost 10,000 tons of trash per day.

And of course, Manila, the nation’s capital, is mentioned in an article by Erik Zerkel “no other place serves as a better example of the intersection of trash and people”. Of the tons of garbage collected in the country, a quarter is from the Metro.

Brought by population explosion and poor waste management, garbage

pollution is getting worse both in developed and developing cities.

SCAVENGER HUNT. In its latter days, Brgy. Calajunan was a rice field, home to a farming community. When the land was converted into a dumpsite, farmers have resorted to waste-picking. In the present, over 200 scavengers, both men and women and even families, make a living out of this modern-day treasure hunt. Aside from digging out metal scraps, other means of living have been developed through the city government’s livelihood programs.

In 2006, Uswag Calajunan Livelihood Association (UCLA) took off and started alternative livelihood trainings like

recycling and composting. Hitting the sales, paper jewellery and hand bags made of aluminium foil are a few of its in-demand products. Not only has UCLA improved the lives of its members, but it contributes somehow to the waste management of the city.

Learning from the mistakes of other cities, Iloilo strives to be clean and green, a kind of city where urban chaos and tranquil nature are in perfect harmony.

The dream. But this is the real fairytale (minus the fairies). In a world where concrete jungles breed mucky ogres, Beauty and the Beast still waltz in a song as old as time.

35

dDEVELOPMENTi

Misyon sa tuktok

Umaakyat sila sa mga matatarik , mababato at madudulas na mga kabundukan. Maliban sa malalaki at mabibigat na backpack, hawak-hawak nila ang mga libro, kagamitang-pangeskwela at mga buto ng pananim na ibibigay nila sa komunidad sa tuktok ng bundok na kanilang patutunguhan.

Ito ang buhay ng isang myembro ng Iloilo Mountaineering Club - nakasentro hindi lamang sa kasiyahang dulot ng pag-akyat ng mga bundok kundi pati na rin sa pagtulong sa mga komunidad na nakahimlay sa tuktok ng mga kabundukan” Bawat bundok na kanilang naaakyat ay may kanya-kanyang kwento. May kanya-kanyang karanasan at mga aral sa buhay na hindi kayang ibigay ng kapatagan. Sa bawat pag-akyat ng mga myembro ng IMC ay may mga buhay na natutulungan.

“Hindi nagtatapos sa pag-aakyat ng mga bundok ang aming buhay.

Sa bawat akyat namin, marami kaming natutuklasan, marami kaming napagtatanto- at dahil sa mga ito nagkakaroon kami ng inisyatibo na tumulong” pahayag ni Victor Pison Sr., taga ng IMC. Ilan sa mga pangunahing adbokasiya ng samahan ang “Education for Every Juan” at pangangalaga sa kalikasan

36

Education for Every Juan.

Ang programa ay naglalayong mabigyan ng mga libro at mga kagamitang pangeskwela ang mga kabataan sa mga malalayong lugar na hindi naaabot ng sibilisasyon. Nasa ikatlong taon na ang programa na nakatulong na sa mga paaralan kagaya ng Mayabay Elementary School sa Barbaza Antique ,Igtuble at Igpaho Elementary School sa Tubungan, Iloilo.

“Bago pa man naging pormal ang programang ito ay nagdadala na ng mga libro ang mga myembro ng IMC tuwing aakyat sa mga bundok, gayunpaman nang pormal naming inilunsad ang nasabing programa ay nagkaroon kami ng mas maraming materyales na nakatulong na mapalawak ang aming adbokasiya” pahayag ni Jun Ramirez, kasalukuyang pangulo ng samahan.

Ang pag-akyat ng IMC ay sa mga kabundukang malapit sa mga paaralang ito ang naging dahilan upang makita ng samahan ang kakulangan sa mga libro at kagamitang pang-eskwela ng mga magaaral dito.

“Talagang malaki ang aming pasasalamat sa IMC dahil kahit papaano ay nagkakaroon ng mga gamit-pangeskwela at libro ang mga bata. Malayo kasi ang bayan at isa pa ay wala kaming pambili.” Sabi ni Aling Rose, ina ng isang

Ni Rodelo G. Lopez benepisyaryo sa Mayabay, Barbaza.

Ayon kay Ramirez, dahil sa hindi abot ng sibilisasyon ang mga lugar na ito ay madalas na hindi na nakakaabot pa ang mga libro galing sa DepEd kung kaya’t nagplano silang palawakin ang kanilang programa sa pamamagitan ng kampanya sa social media site na facebook.

Pangangalaga sa kalikasan.

Isa sa mga pangunahing adbokasiya ng IMC ang pangangalaga sa kalikasan.

Ang samahan ay patuloy nakikipagugnayan sa Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR) upang makatulong sa mga usaping pangkalikasan kagaya ng tamang pagpili ng mga punong itatanim sa mga watershed.

“Dahil mahigit 40 taon na kaming naglalakbay sa mga kabundukan, aming napansin na unti-unti nang nasisira ang ating mga kabundukan dulot ng mga ilegal na mga aktibidad ng tao kun kaya’t isa sa aming layunin ay makapagbigay ng kaalaman hinggil rito” pahayag ni Tayo.

Ilan sa mga aktibidades ng samahan ang pagbabahagi ng kaalaman sa mga indigenous people hinggil sa panganib na dulot na pagkakaingin. Nagdadala rin ng mga butong pananim ang IMC upang ipamahagi sa mga komunidad.

Bukod sa mga nabanggit na mga adbokasiya, isa rin ang ang pagrerescue sa mga ipinagmamalaking gawain ng samahan. Noong nanalasa ang bagyong Yolanda, isa ang IMC sa mga naunang naglunsad ng rescue and relief operations sa bandang norte ng probinsya.

Isa ang IMC sa mga patunay na maaaring pagsabayin ang personal na hilig at ang pagtulong sa kapwa.

“Walang mas gaganda pa sa pakiramdam na nagagawa mo ang iyong hilig habang nakatutulong ka pa sa iyong kapwa kahit sa maliit lang na bagay. “pahayag ni Pison At ginagawa ito ng samahan sa likod ng kislap ng mga camera o media.

Words by Ann Marie N. Servito

Fairy tales are better realities we could never have but we wish we had.