Capul On My Mind
May 26, 2009
Alex M. Castillo

I have been traveling constantly and I have been to different places. I have anchored and anchored aweigh in different “ports” which I called home for sometime. But there is always one home for me wherever in the world I may be.

As I have mentioned before, summer is the best time in the island. And this summer, I captured the best spots that are etched forever in my mind. These are the places that are so dear to me. When I dream of home, these are the images flooding through my mind.

The Capul Lighthouse

As a child, I was fascinated with this beacon of light that I watched through the night at it shines at the distant Malpal point. Beneath this majestic structure is where as a child, I gather sea weeds and mussels with friends. Around it where guava grooves that are now cleared. This is also the venue of numerous picnics with friends every summer or any other season of the year as long as there are celebrations.

During its heyday, we were able to climb through its spiral staircase and stand proud atop its tower. I remembered Nanay was the one who egged me to climb the tower as a child even if I was frightened.

This lighthouse is very memorable to my family because Nanay spent some years of her childhood here together with her cousins because my grand aunt married the parolista. It was such a homey place back then according to Nanay.

Sadly, this structure is now in a state of disarray due to its exposure to the elements. Good thing, the Philippine Coast Guard is manning the place complete with radar to help traveling ships crossing the treacherous San Bernardino Straight at night. Based on historical data, a few Galleon ships capsized in the San Bernardino Straight while navigating the route back to Acapulco Mexico.

Beneath the lighthouse are natural rock formations that served as anchorage of the Galleon ships during bad weather. According to oral lore, one of the crew of those Galleon ships engraved the name Acapulco in one of those rocks and that was where the name of the whole town became known.


The Capul Church
Capul became the seat of Christianity during the early Spanish Conquest. Testament to this is the limestone church built by the Spanish priests in the early 1600’s through hard labor. It stands to this day as a monument of the strong faith of the Capulenos.


The church is surrounded by a limestone wall fortress that was used as a shield against Moro raiders. Sentries stationed at the fort guarded the town. The belfry signals the people to get inside the church and when the Moros came, the people would throw stones at them and kept them at bay.

Simple Pleasures
But the best memories that I always look forward to when I go home are the simple pleasures that an island town could offer. Away from then rumbling noise of the metropolis, I enjoyed the serenity and the peace that I experience here.


Finally, this is life being lived simply but to the fullest.

Engkanto Stories in Capul Island

I grow up hearing all sorts of stories about supernatural beings in Capul. Because we only had electricity since about 10 years ago, we enjoy the moonlit nights playing hide and seek, patentiro and other sorts of child play. The plaza becomes abuzz with little children running to and fro until about midnight. The whole village becomes a virtual playground until the elders come calling their small children to go home because somebody saw an engkanto somewhere near the giant century-old tree.

Fairies, giants and other otherworldly beings: whether there was truth to it or were just figments of our imagination were part of our everyday life in the province. We were constantly reminded by our elders not to make too much noise in the well or in a creek or river especially at 12:00 noon because we might disturb the other beings inhabiting the place. Tuesdays and Fridays are considered “enchanted days” because the engkantos are frolicking during these days. We have to excuse ourselves and say “tabi po” whenever we pass by a big tree or a creek because we might accidentally hit an engkanto.

Possessed by bad spirits
The elementary school I went to has a giant tree near the main gate. It has a big hole like a big gaping wound just above its roots where it is said that several dwendes (dwarf) are inhabiting and are seen playing in the Bermuda grass at dusk. In different occasions, several people claimed that they heard clanging sounds of kitchen utensils at mealtimes and also smell foods being cooked. At the back of the classrooms were big rimas trees where the old toilets were also located. School children like us played on its big branches or simply rest on them after lunch or during recess. Beneath it are two big fishponds with water lilies and small fishes. In several instances, we were startled when a playmate started screaming like being frightened by something or someone. It turned out that a bad spirit possessed them. The local shaman was summoned to fumigate the place with herbs to counter the bad spirits.

Love Affair with the Engkantos
I was a fourth grader when my classmates and I observed Elma, the nanny of my cousin’s little baby talking to somebody outside our classroom. However, we did not see anybody with her except the few month-old-baby, Carlo. My cousin who is a teacher lives just outside the school campus so the nanny took Carlo to the school ground to play. We did not pay much attention to her because we thought she was talking to the baby. By suppertime, our other cousins asked Tatay to accompany them at our cousin’s house because Elma was missing. It turned out that she was “hidden” in the corner of one of the rooms when she shouted for help. She was panting and sweating all over. According to her, a man was chasing her on horseback named Elmo and was asking her to go with him. The men in the house helped her but she was stronger than all of them. We knew by then that she was possessed by an engkanto. When she becomes sober, she and the family members were transferred to the house of another cousin. My father along with some male cousins, sleep in the house but they could not get a rest because invisible men hurling gravels at them attacked them. The stones came from every conceivable hole of the house, from the windows, doors and from the little gaps between the roof and the walls but none of them were hit. This made them very frightened so they abandoned the house.

Meanwhile, loud knocks were heard at the door of the house where Elma my cousin’s family members were transferred. My cousin’s husband opened the door but did not saw anybody until they heard Elma talking to someone but they could not see whom. This made the whole village really frightened so small children were not allowed to go out after dark. Prayer vigils were done in the school to ward off evil spirits. Meanwhile, several shamans even from neighboring towns like Masbate in Bicol were summoned to perform “pagbawi” (literally means to take back Elma’s spirit who had been in the engkantado world). Full moon came and the last ritual of pagbawi was done where Elma was brought to the school ground to face Elmo. She was instructed to tell Elmo that she did not love him and he should let her go away because they come from different worlds. Elmo supposed to have appeared from nowhere, wearing a white suit and white shoes riding on a white horse. A soldier cousin supposedly fired at Elmo but he disappeared in thin air. It was supposed to have witnesses by several people but I do not know exactly now if the “vision” of Elmo really appeared. A few days after, Elma was brought to her hometown in Mondragon Samar but she died just a few days after.

Several other beautiful ladies were said to have been courted by engkantos especially those that are fair skinned. Another celebrated case involved the mestiza wife of a rich villager who comes from Manila. She vacationed in the island with her husband and went to the sea to gather gulaman (a sea weed used for making gelatin). A group of men supposed to have befriended her and made her dance in the big rocks. Several people saw her dancing including this writer who thought she was just enjoying the new experience of gathering gulaman. She was forcibly brought home by her husband and became delirious as if fighting several men whom she claimed wanted to take her for a ride to different parts of the island. The shaman put a rosary on her but she fought and shoo everybody away. Fortunately, she was “cured” by the shamans and since then, did not come back in the island as advised by her husband’s relatives.

Kissed by a fairy
This writer also experienced close encounters with the supernatural when I was about 10 years old. It happened one night, when my elder sisters and I went to the town to watch the Teacher’s Day presentation. Only Nanay & Tatay were left at home to care for our one-year-old niece Amy, who was staying in the house because her mother was working in Manila. At dusk, Tatay was carrying the baby in the porch and said something like: “poor child, nobody’s taking care of her” when suddenly he smelled a sweet aroma coming from the direction of the street. Nanay, who was cooking dinner in the kitchen also smelled it and asked Tatay what and where that smell comes from. Even our next-door neighbor smelled it. Unable to explain the very sweet smell, they just ignored it. The smell lingered until the following morning.

When we arrived later, we were met with the unusually sweet smell of the house coming from the room where Amy was sleeping. It was when we discovered that the sweet smell comes from Amy’s forehead as if somebody planted her a kiss. Nanay said that a fairy could have “pitied” Amy and the supernatural being kissed her on the forehead.

Tabo-The Modern Barter Trade of Leyte and Samar

Barter was the form of exchange by our ancestors during the pre-historic times. Barter was usually done at the mouth of the river where people from different villagers converge to exchange their goods with something that they did not produce. An assortment of fish, salt and other products of the sea are being exchanged for rice, root crops, vegetables and other farm produce. There was no money involved in the exchange. The perceived amount of the bartered goods is considered when the products are exchanged. Because of this system, there was a symbiotic relationship by those living downstream with those from the communities upstream.

Barter was not confined within neighboring communities within the Philippine archipelago but even with other neighboring Asian countries and even Europe later on based on the history lessons taught to us in school. Even during the pre-historic times, our ancestors have traded with the other Asian countries as evidenced by the presence of porcelain and silk from China, silverwares from the Arabs and Indians and others. The perils of traditional communication and transportation that took months and even years of travel did not deter our ancestors from trading goods with foreign countries. Upon their return, they brought new products from their travels that they also offer for barter or sale (with gold) domestically.

Modern Trading in Leyte and Samar:

Tabo was the traditional market system of Leyte and Samar. It was usually done on weekend where farmers, fishermen, middlemen and other businessmen from neighboring towns or barangay converge in a riverbank, or public market to sell their goods for local consumption or businessmen on retail or wholesale basis. These two islands are interdependent with each other in terms of their exchange of goods, which they do during the tabo. In fact, there are food products like binagol where the yam used as raw material is grown in the hinterlands of Samar while the delicacy is produced in Leyte. On the other hand, the tikog, a kind of grass from which the popular embroidered mats painstakingly designed by the mat weavers of Basey, Samar comes from the marshlands of Leyte. These are just few products that the two islands share. To date, tabo is still practiced in almost all towns of Leyte and Samar.

Calbiga, Western Samar

The Calbiga River in Calbiga Western Samar has been the venue of the weekly tabo in this part on Sundays. Farmers from different barangays upstream travel by boat on Saturday midnight while those from other upland villages travel by foot on caravan with their work animals to bring their best produce to the tabo-an (market site). They converge at the town market, which is located by the bank of the river. The tabo starts at about two o’clock in the morning and ends at about lunchtime. The most popular items in this tabo are the different varieties of bananas, sweet potato, cassava, yam, vegetables and fruits such as pineapple. Most of those who participate in the tabo are the farmers themselves. However, “high-end” products such as yam are bought wholesale by the middlemen from the farmers to be marketed in Tacloban and other parts of Leyte and Samar.

Early in the morning, the market becomes a colorful mix of products, farmers, traders and buyers. The sellers erect makeshift tents with gas lamps for the buyers to take a closer look at their merchandise. The prices are very low with most items on “sale” because they are perishable so they must be sold immediately.

The farmers go back to their villages after they have bought their supply of salt, fish (fresh but usually dried), rice and condiments that they do not produce. They would also buy slippers, clothes from the ukay-ukay (used imported clothes) and bread for their small children left at home.

Traditional practices

I visited some of these barangays to see their farms and integrated with the locals to experience their life in the village. Just like any rural village, they still practice elaborate traditional farming rituals. The purpose of their rituals is to have a bountiful harvest and for their ancestors and other spirits dwelling in the place protect them and their families from natural catastrophe and sickness. They offer food and prayers and celebrate with the rest of the village. On tabo day, they set forth to the town at midnight with torch in tow. They travel in groups with their work animals bringing their products to the riverbank where the boat that will bring them to the tabo-an is anchored.

Ethereal experience

The boat ride downstream on a starlit night was an ethereal experience for me. I sat silently with the villagers on the boat with only the rhythmic thug of the engine breaking the stillness of the night. Bats and other nocturnal animals would be heard calling or seen from the riverbank. Flashlights guide the crew navigate the river and to avoid driftwoods and for rocky or shallow parts of the river. At the bank of the river are firefly-lit trees that looked like well-decorated Christmas trees. I looked at them with childlike awe as the fireflies transfer from branch to branch. Local lore said that these trees are enchanted because that is where the fairies live.

Several times, I went back to these villages to attend fiestas, weddings, baptisms and even wakes.

Borongan, Eastern Samar
On another occasion, I was able to experience another exciting tabo site. This one is on a majestic river that serves as the boundaries of Borongan and Maydolong Eastern Samar. The tabo site is an upstream village, which is now also the site of the cockpit arena. It had been held there on a Sunday morning for as long as the locals can remember. To reach the site, you have ride a motorized banca for almost an hour. On the way to the tabo-an, the sight of tiny waterfalls cascading on the cliff by the riverbank would entertain travelers. Residents on the villages along the river have to climb the steep rocky cliff with the aid of a rope tied on a tree at the top with heavy baggage at their backs.

Unlike in Calbiga, where the products are sold in dry land, some of the products sold in this tabo are placed in dugout canoes on the river direct from the farm. Buyers are also on boats much like the river markets in some parts of Asia. Local and commercial products are sold along with wild birds and even piglets. It was in this tabo-an where I encountered a purple banana variety with a sweet aroma. Later during the day, the men gather at the cockpit arena for the cockfight. The cockfight is one of the reasons for the men to attend this tabo.

Aside from these two sites, there are also several exciting tabo-an sites in Leyte and Samar where one could discover local products. It is always a joy to visit these tabo because they offer different products every week depending on the season.

Go visit Samar and experience tabo.

Nesting, Homing

It was the last week of classes at the University where I formerly taught and we were relaxing after lunch at the front canopy of the Arts and Letters Building. My co-teachers and I noticed three pairs of birds busy gathering twigs. The male and the female birds were helping each other construct their nests. One pair constructed their nest at the top of the fortune plant; the other two pairs selected the two cypress trees at the opposite ends of the entrance. My co-teachers and I stopped from our happy chat to momentarily follow our gaze at the birds who were flying to and fro; I reflected on the scene.

Three semesters ago, I came to the University full of hopes and dreams about a new career and a new place. I decided to teach after six years of doing research at UP Tacloban. I wanted a new environment to test other waters. It was a long needed change. When I came in June 2001, I only knew two former schoolmates who were also former members of a theater group in UP where I was still active. They are still teaching at the University.

I was excited with the prospect that I would be an anonymous to most people so I can move with ease without much concern that I would bump into my former acquaintances. Needless to say, I love the place. The campus is nestled between the sea, the mountains and the sky. The vegetation is lush; flowers bloom all year-round. The morning of my first day, the sweet smell of mangoes in bloom and the chirping of birds right outside my classroom window greeted me. I started weaving dreams about a new life, a good life.

After almost two years, the hopes and dreams that I nurtured did not bloom. I felt oppressed and used. I wanted to question the system, but I could not find my voice. I ask myself: should I bow my head or lose it? Then I came to a realization, its not going to be worth it. And I decided: I must leave.

The birds were starting a new home to start a new life with their families. Nature would provide them with their needs. They would protect each other from everybody that would endanger their existence.

I was like the birds when I was new in the place. I was building my nest, my new home. I was making a home in a strange place and I promised myself I would protect it from danger. My perseverance would provide for my needs.

Little by little, I built my nest. I furnished it with a few familiar things that I brought from my previous homes so I would not feel alienated and distant. I recreated my previous home until I felt I have already built a new one. I felt secured. I have new friends.

When a dream is shattered, it left only broken debris and it’s hard to piece them together again. Maybe, I also did not even attempt to piece them together. I have decided: I have to build a new home again, somewhere.

My moving out (again) did not sink-in with me until I was packing my things. The things that I put together have to be dismantled and packed. I asked: where am I going?

I went back to my former home base. It felt strange somehow to go back to a place that you have previously known. The sound, the sights, even the pace is new. I have to adjust again.

For two years, I lived a laid-back life; the pace was slow, the scene pastoral, slow, romantic, cinematic.

And then it dawned on me: I am jobless. I felt I was broken and I have nothing. All through those difficult times I reminded myself: I can start again from here. I remembered the last scene in Midea. Midea was asked after everything about him was destructed: “What is left?” Midea answered: “There is me.”

March 20, 2003.
Pawing, Palo, Leyte

I wanted to be a broadcast journalist not a teacher. Education was not even on my choices when I was applying for admission at the University of the Philippines. Although my parents wanted me to become one so I could work at home, I dreamed of becoming on TV or radio hence I enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts in Communication Arts Major in Literature degree in college. It was not long after I realized that I was not cut for a broadcasting career because for one, I don’t have the “pleasing” personality for on-camera TV job, second, my voice is too thin that one would actually think I was a cat luring a mice to go out of its hole. So if I want a job in the media, I would have to learn how to write so I have to start practicing (if its not yet too late!).

Loving the classroom
After college, I was encouraged by my former boss to enroll in a masteral degree in teaching. Surprisingly, I love the interaction in the classroom and the challenge of molding young minds into literate individuals. It sparked something in me so not long after, I took on a teaching job at the Leyte State University and this becomes the best two years of my life.

Introducing art and history to students
Most students consider humanities and Philippine History boring subjects. Between the two, I have a special inclination to the former because of my background and training. For the latter, I shared my students’ view that History is not “cool” until I learned the beauty of discovering one’s own history (we should also write herstory according to the feminists). At the start of the semester, I asked my students their expectations and what they want to learn in these subjects. Most of them dreaded the though that as a teacher, I would enumerate artists or heroes of long ago whom they could not connect and whose works are not relevant to them or to the present milieu. Humanities to them is taught by a bespectacled, boring professor who resurrects Michael Angelo, Shakespeare, the Greek Classical plays and other stuff that would lull them to sleep. I took it as a challenge because I experienced the same at some point in my college years.

As a form of self-introduction, I asked my Humanities students to look around the classroom or the campus for something that could best describe their personalities. One male student compared himself to the ceiling fan because he is always “rotating” or he can’t stay in one place. A female student compared herself to a comfort room because her friends always confide their secrets to her with the assurance that they remain secrets. Several students said they are reliable in many things so they compared themselves to a pen: always ready. Still another compared herself to the roots of the tree, secured and lasting even after the trunks had been pruned and a host of other things that they could think.

Afterwards, when everybody had taken their turns, I asked them how they find the exercise. Most of them agree that it was an exciting exercise because it challenged their creativity.

The pre-test that I administered showed that about half of my six sections (average of 32 per class) do not excel academically so I decided early on that I have to put equal weight on their practical exercises. For example, after my lecture on the basic elements of art (line, shape, form, color, value, texture, space, etc), we had a mini-tour around the campus to show them actual examples of those elements. Afterwards, we had a workshop to apply what we have discussed. I asked them to make a “work of art” and explain what they have created. We devoted the whole session finishing the artwork that they have started at home. This was done to make sure that the work they submitted are really there own and not done by somebody else.

The next session was the presentation of their works. A male student, who presented a sailboat as a reflection of him, made one memorable piece. He explained thus: just like the sailboat that is dependent on the direction of the wind, his decisions were also dependent on his friends’ and other people around him. Then he removed the sail and replaced it with a paddle. He explained: that is what he wants to be, paddling his own boat even if it means going against the current. He got one of the loudest applause from the class. Another student made a clay bust of Superman that shows the character’s upright personality. The lines, color and texture were almost perfect so I told him he definitely has talent in sculpture. Several others also made outstanding works but some came unprepared. Later during the midterms, their works were showcased in an open exhibit at the hallway of the arts and letters department for the whole community to appreciate.

Teaching history or herstory
For my History classes, I asked them to write their town’s history in the vernacular and from the point of view of the local residents (How the town’s name was derived, their experiences during the World War II and the Japanese Occupation, the local political structure, etc). Some of them were surprised to discover that their parents or grandparents were actually some of the moving forces in their town’s history.

For Literature, I made them write their family history. For this exercise, they discovered the place their parents originally come from, how their parents met, the hardships they encounter as a family and individually, and other things about themselves and their families. A few of them turn in emotional works that are a staple of drama anthologies on television. Some even included sensitive information of their family history.

Introducing theater
The culminating activity we did was the staging of original and adapted plays in the vernacular. My students went through the process of conceptualizing to producing and post-production evaluations of theater production. Those whose talents were in painting and sculpture were in-charge of the set design, the writers wrote the script, the leaders become the directors while the actors and singers took their parts seriously. Others were assigned behind the curtain. We invited other teachers and students to watch. In the succeeding semesters, our presentations become one of the most anticipated activities in the campus during the exams week.

Evaluating students performance
For their final grades, their academic and practical performances were given equal weights. Individual grades were based on individual contribution based on the group’s leader evaluation as corroborated by the team members. I was very liberal in giving high grades especially to those who deserve them. Those who failed are those who did not show interest or did not participate in the different activities.

During the post-test at the end of the semester, most of my students said they appreciated the unconventional teaching method that I employed and they realized that art and history are very exciting subjects.

Some good things never last
However, even good things must come to an end. After four semesters, I surprised my self and my students with an announcement that I am leaving due in part to my desire to finish my thesis and because of the sorry state of the part-time teachers like myself in the university. A few students cried while I blink back my tears during my announcement after our final presentation.

Months after I left, some of my students were sending me text messages telling me that they miss me and they appreciated what I have shared with them. During such times, I avoided being emotional as I was taking on a different journey in the city. However, I have not completely turned my back on teaching because I do not see myself getting old doing any other profession. I may be enjoying my present job I still look back at those four semesters with a kaleidoscope of beautiful sounds and images, which have made an indelible mark on my memory. Right now, I am just preparing for my next classroom, which will be very soon.

Journey 2

I came to the Big City with big dreams and big expectations but realized the city is too tough to conquer.

For three months after I arrived, I scanned the Sunday papers for job openings. I have sent almost fifty resumes but with very little productivity. I made constant follow-up and have at least five job examinations and preliminary interviews and three final interviews before I was hired. There were three companies that have signified their interest but I have decided to choose the first one to confirm my appointment.

Conquering the concrete jungle

In February 20, 2004, I was accepted as a Staff Assistant here at Guaranteed Marketing Services, Inc. that is my first job in Manila. The first two weeks were the deciding time for me if I will go on or quit the job. I was not familiar with the business of Merchandising and Promotions, which are the bread and butter of the Company. I was not used to the corporate setting and the pressure that go with it. I was not familiar with the things that they are discussing because I came from a very different field, which are the academe and the creative arts. Everything was alien to me. After two weeks, I almost gave up.

During those deciding moments, I realized that if I have to survive in Manila, I have to survive GMS. I persisted and after three months, I was given a passable performance rating. I was very anxious of my every move because I wanted to show the management that they made a good decision of taking me in. Though I confess I was (still) half hearted at first, I took pain in familiarizing myself with every aspect of the Company’s operation because I need the job to survive, not much that I love the job. Meanwhile, my bosses recognized my potential and it adds a great deal to my confidence. Before I knew it, I started to love the challenge because the experience is something new to me.

I always love challenges and this job is one of those that I willingly accepted. The job opened new perspective for me (that there is actually a whole new world outside my precious shell that I used as a shield against everything different from what I used to do). It’s an entirely new experience that I realized have helped me regain my lost self-esteem after my heart breaking experience in my past jobs. When I came to the city, I was broken in heart and spirit because I felt that the last ten years of my life had been wasted. I felt I did not achieve anything concrete in those long years and my sacrifices went to nothing. I felt betrayed because the people I call my own “disowned” me. I felt scared because when I leave Tacloban, I know I will venture into a strange place where many dreams did not prosper. I was told, the city is not as hospitable as the places that I’ve been to.

Given those scenarios, I still decided for it because I felt I have nowhere to go. Deep inside, I have apprehensions but I was also excited with the prospect that I will learn new things, and places outside of my comfort zone. I used to be very emotional when it comes to the places and the people that I’ve been used to. I have been used to everything around me that I have made a strong bond with it. I cringe at the thought that I may not be able to go back to the places and would not see the people that I love to be around with. These people have known and accepted me and these are the people I tell everything about me. They know me inside out and have shared with them everything including my little triumphs and losses. I could not imagine leaving them for good. The thought scared me.

Leaving though did not come to my mind overnight. I have long planned it because I have long decided that I have to proceed with this journey called life. For a few years, I felt I have not maximized my full potential both as a person and as a professional. I have grown so much but I feel that I have been stunted because of the limited opportunities in my home base. I have to anchor aweigh and look for a new mooring place. I have to stop being emotional.

My sudden announcement naturally stunned my core group. They accused me of being too harsh by deciding too soon without them being consulted. I explained that my decision did not come overnight; that I have long weighed things over before my life-changing decision. Actually, I have told a few in my closest circle and they approved of my plan even though they want me to stay because they also felt my absence. They regret my decision but wished me luck anyway. The only one who reacted violently was my former boss because she was caught off-guard by my short notice. Yes, I was at fault because I did not communicate to her my insecurities of not having a job. She thought I was okay because I look okay. I held my sanity despite my frustrations, heartaches and insecurities. I did not cry out loud despite the pain!

I left in haste to Manila because my mother did not want to see me so wasted. Above everybody else, it is Nanay who understand me inside out. I tell her everything about my plans, my dreams and my ambitions. She trusted all my decisions and supported me all the way. She knows I have a good judgment and did not question my decisions but guided me with her wisdom. Hers is wisdom at work. She is my symbol of courage. In my most trying times, she is an illumination. She is true to her name: Iluminada. Now, I start missing her.

After almost one year in the city, I have become more confident. I have adapted to a new environment and have proven to myself that there is no challenge too tough. I have conquered my fears and my apprehensions. I realize that I need not worry too much because I am guided by Devine Providence. My Faith saved me from all the desolations. Now I’m starting all over again. I’m starting to dream and plan anew. I am in a new chapter and the future looks bright if only I worked hard enough and trusts the hero in me.

My present job is very symbolic because this is a start of a new life for me. The confidence bestowed on me by my present employers boosted my self-esteem by believing that I can do it. My dreams are re-invigorated and I have a renewed faith in my self. I was in the crossroads and I am glad that I chose the least traveled road that now, I can sigh with relief.

When a leaf falls, a new bud will sprout. The will always prevails even when the situation is not very ideal. We only know our abilities when they are challenged. Life is anything but stagnant, so why should we be?

I have moved on!


October 18, 2004
4:23pm

Journeys

We’re often told that life is a journey. I believe it is.

I was born in a place blessed by God with bounty: for if the land could not provide, there is sea. On the banks of these endless seas, I saw distant lands that my young mind wanted to explore. As early as then, I have wanted to travel.

I was a child of nature. My family either till the soil or chased water creatures for food. My siblings and I were taught to fend for us and be responsible at an early age. In my mind, I have to get away from it all. And so my journey began.

Iskolar Ng Bayan

I was lucky to hurdle the “Iskolar ng Bayan” exam. I was ecstatic because I was the only one from my batch to be admitted to the State University. To my mind, I have the best ticket to whatever destination I choose.

My mother let me kiss our village patron saint that was considered as a patron saint of travelers and put a fistful of sand from our doorstep on my pocket on the day I left for college to a place called Tacloban. Mother told me to step on it the moment I alighted from the bus as I arrived in my new home. She explained that the purpose of the ritual was to help me conquer homesickness and make a new home.

My New Home

I did. For twelve years, I made Tacloban as my home base and I only go home during semestral breaks or on special holidays after college. I have become very familiar with the place that I can even write its history and culture. I could not imagine myself leaving Tacloban for long.

After graduation, I worked as a cultural researcher for my Alma Mater and the in-house theater group that I joined in my junior year. My work brought me to the different places in Leyte and Samar and the nearby provinces. I met and befriended people from all walks of life. There were some places I visited only once, others I visited many times because I have to come back to attend weddings, baptisms, fiestas, plantings, harvests, and even wakes. Each place is distinct but almost all people were friendly. My teammates and I survived through the generosity of strangers. We have been to places that some locals have not and would not dare go either because it was too far or too risky. We traveled by foot, by boat or on motorcycles. We encountered storms, floods and all sorts of natural calamities. We dared go to where most of our contemporaries would not for the love of our work and because of our youth.

Re-discovering Oneself

In situations like these, I was back to nature. I would remember my childhood days as a farmer’s son. I can relate exactly to our interviewees’ lifestyle because I was like them. While I was learning new things, I was re-acquiring my previous knowledge and became deeply aware of my roots. It was déjà vu.

After six years, I realized I was not going far. While my batch mates had stable jobs and families of their own, I was still a scavenger. I was not complaining, except that, I felt I owe my family so much that I have to give them more. I decided to pursue another direction: I joined the faculty of the Arts and Letters of Leyte State University, three hours away from Tacloban.

Becoming a Teacher

When I came to LSU, I only knew two former schoolmates who were also previous members of the same theater group as I had. I learned later that another classmate was also in the same university. I love my animosity although it was not long after that I become a local. I love the place.

The school campus is nestled between the sea, the mountains and the sky. The climate was cool and the flowers were abloom all year round. The pace is slow, the setting romantic. It was almost cinematic. On my first day, the sweet smell of mangoes in bloom and the happy chatter of birds greeted me right outside my classroom window. I was back to nature again.

I taught art and history subjects. I also taught them what I learned in my six years of research. I enjoyed teaching except the part when I have to propose new ideas to the faculty. I was with a group of young faculty members who have the same aspiration: to inject new blood and surge forward. We wanted to fight the obsolete and the conservative but three or four voices would not be heard against the thousand. We learned there were others who also dreamt of change but would scamper anyway.

Living the life of a teacher

I was teaching my students what Rizal said in Noli: “Would you rather bow, or hold your head up and lose it?” My next question was, am I ready (read: politically mature enough) to question the system? I realized we were the misfits in that setting. I was miscast in a romantic movie that was too good to be true. I decided to leave after four semesters and head for the big city that I previously dreaded.

Pursuing other dreams

In the big city, I experienced all the desolations that I almost wanted to give up. One of the reasons why I came here in the city is to realize my childhood dream to work as a broadcast journalist so the first thing I did was to visit the two giant TV stations. I confess, I wanted to be on television because I believe I have so much to contribute. For now, I don’t know what the city could offer me. I am still drifting, undecided what course to take.

Life is a journey. I’m on a new one every time.

July 10, 2004