Eighth line in Peradilla’s “Every Body”

John Dante serves as issue editor of Katitikan 5 where you may read CJ and eighteen other writers.

Chris

Big guy could dance! I was an automatic fan of how he took the stage, always (at least to me) stealing the spotlight from his Street Jazz friends. Not sure how he knew me, but he did. So we greeted each other in campus whenever we had the chance. Bakit ko ba tinago ang pagiging starstruck?

I got to know him better during the pandemic. He was a teacher—Lord this past tense rattles, grates at the nerves—and he taught me about a learning management system while we exchanged notes about students and policies, the difficulties of the day. About other things too, you know, like baked mac and donuts from a common source. We cheered each other on! Not at all surprised to read the warm sentiments people leave on social media about him. The sharp sense of loss. He was that guy. 

Maybe I’ll edit this after I revisit our chats, but for now, two main things. I was delighted when he messaged me about how his high school student who graduated and became my college student. Our mutual pride was something to behold! Not sure how to describe it.

(I emailed our student yesterday: I just received news that our Sir Chris passed away. Medyo inaasahan ko ring may nagbibiro lang, kaso mukhang hindi e. Nakikiramay ako sa iyo at sa iyong mga kaibigan.)

The last thing was immense grief for his mom. He lost her a year ago. 

 

Wake until November 7 at Heaven’s Garden Memorial Park, Anos, Los Baños, Laguna. Interment on the 7th, 9 AM at Los Baños Memorial.

Undas 2024

On October 21, Severe Tropical Storm Kristine (internationally named Trami) entered the Philippine Area of Responsibility (PAR) as a tropical depression. That was the Monday we brought Damian and Maria to the clinic. Damian got admitted at the University Health Service (UHS) after lunch. While alternating with Pinky as his watch, I followed the storm as it ravaged its way through Bicol, Camarines, and adjacent regions, paying attention to rescue and relief efforts.

The winds came for Laguna and found our family split: I with Damian, the girls at home. Thankfully the hospital had few and short power interruptions with almost no problems with water. This wasn’t the case at home where we lost electricity, water, and connectivity for days, getting full restoration only after a a week.

As the storm took it easy on us and the sun came up, the university’s first order of business was to secure the constituents—the students first of all, and the frontliners—while clearing the paths. Fallen trees, electricity posts, and detritus blocked the roads and presented hazards to needed repairs (my former advisee Jessa has a report). Pinky had to move a heavy acacia branch off the driveway then maneuver to avoid various roadblocks just to visit us. Soon our doctor—understandably in absentia—issued discharge orders.

I asked permission from the guard to fill water containers: 45 liters meant a lot when you had no assurance of water rations. That done, I took a few more snaps before leaving with my happy little boy, gladly unshackled from the drip, eager to come home to the wide open arms of his sisters.

 

 

We tried to clean up at home and help out in the area but found it a problem without running water. Since UP Los Baños was intent on asynchronous classes, we felt the need to leave home for connectivity. Also, we all had bouts of coughing and Damian was still on the mend. Away from LB, I would learn of Randy’s passing during Jol’s birthday (and today, on Jol’s death anniversary, I learned that we lost Chris Belison). 

I wished to review this poem as one of two favorites in Poems Against the War, an anthology edited by Sam Hamill with Sally Anderson and others. I put this and other projects in the backburner because of the storm, the admission, (the grief, too, and the shock) and other challenges. With the house nearly in order, I faced the needs of the yard. And look, the kaymito “shouldered” a fallen kamansi: 

After 250 ax blows, the star apple unburdened of its “cello”: 

While you will find many such “shoulderings” inside the campus, we only had this one case in the yard. Mostly, what we needed was the inverse: Y-cut branches from fallen trees used to prop up leaning trees and smaller plants. Below, a young mango before and after a Y-support: 

 

Death supporting life, to extend Laux’s analogy. I did around eight of these, including another, older mango and this thorny kalamansi: 

Some extra Ys because you never know (and I suppose I liked the sound of the bolo whistling).

Overdid these Ys. This acacia—bane of rooftops—needed no propping up, especially not from its own heavy branches:

I have yet to find a purpose for all this wood. I can convert them to firewood, but the smoke may cause health problems. It was raining for a while as I wrote this, but now, more yardwork awaits. 

Found a piece of someone’s roof with which I can maybe patch up our gutter. Life on life, death on life, life on death, and... something I picked up yesterday.

Randy

Bukod dito, hay. Ang aming si Randy.

Kasa-kasama na siya simula pa lang noong freshie ako. Upper class. Laging may baong joke si Randy. Katulad ng karamihan sa amin sa kiosk, pinagbawalan din siyang tumuon sa owner at baka “magasgasan ang trapal.” Laging naniningkit ‘yan kapag nagpapatawa, parang bahala ka kung hindi ka tatawa basta siya, papatol at papatol sa sariling versions ng Boy Bastos. May printout pa ‘yan ng mga jokes—na minsang pinasilip sa akin.

Miss ko na siya. Miss ko na kayo. (Jekoy, ikaw din.) Condolences to the wife and son who survived him, his family, the close and lucky friends.

Cafe Servant

May sakit si Damian. Reading break ang mga ate. Si Maria lang ang hinatid namin. Gusto raw nila ng kanyang kaibigan ang magkaroon ng Kuromi Cafe. Kaibigan niya ang tagatimpla, siya ang “cafe servant”. Tinanong siya ni Pinky kung ano ang gusto niyang mangyari sa lugar nila. Nagbigay siya ng ilang detalye, halimbawa, magkakaroon sila ng Kuromi scanner para malaman kung paborito nila talaga si Kuromi. 

“Paano kung mahilig nga sila kay Kuromi?” 

“Mas mura! Parang may discount.”

· 

Bakit kaya nagkasakit? “Itong panahon kasi talaga.” Hindi naman allergies o hika ano? “Hindi kaya stress?” Ayon kay Damian, nahahati ang klase sa mga girls at boys. Boys ang palaging nakakagalitan, kapag girls, pinapalagpas. Dahil president ka, hindi ka puwedeng mamili, kahit lalaki ka. Ang mahalaga sa iyo dapat ‘yung buong klase. Kesehodang may ginagawa ‘yung girls, hanggang sa hindi kayo maayos na maayos, mapupuna at mapupuna kayo. Dapat hindi talaga kayo problema ng klase. Hayaan mo na lang sila, kung nasaway mo na, ‘yun na ‘yun. Mag-aral ka na lang. Tiyakin mo lang na tahimik ‘yung officers mo. Tapos sana may makuha silang isa o dalawang kaibigan. Mag-aral na lang kayo. Kung ayaw makinig, tantanan mo na, uubo ka lang.

·

Hindi kami makatiyak kung kaninong ideya ang Kuromi scanner. “Mar, ano ang ideas mo? ‘Yung sa iyo lang ha.” Hindi siya agad nakatugon. Mukhang kolab talaga, ayaw umusad kung wala ang kaibigan. “Halimbawa ngayon, tatanungin ka. Ano ang gusto mong makita sa Kuromi cafe? Ano kaya?” Mamimigay sila ng Kuromi headbands. May mga paintings sa pader.

·

Isa sa paborito kong bahagi ng ARTS 1 ang diskusyon sa The Watcher ni Laura Muntz Lyall (1894, oil on canvas, 71.1 × 91.4 cm) kapag dadako na kami sa Impressionism. Ako ang naglagay nito sa module namin at aminado akong ayaw kong isentro ang mga karaniwang maestro.

Sa puntong ito ng semestre, napagdaanan na ng mga estudyante ang mga elemento at prinsipyo ng sining biswal. Madali nilang nailalapat ang kaalaman, pinapansin ang kulay, binabakas ang guhit, natutukoy ang kilos ng kanilang mga mata sa kuwadro. Sa kanila na nanggagaling ang mga hiyas gaya ng “Sir, teka. Bakit parang mas buhay yung binabantayan kaysa sa nagbabantay?”

·

Grade one na si Maria. Noong nagtapos siya ng Kindergarten may bahagi ng programa kung saan naka-slides ang kanilang mga dibuho. Nakasulat sa larawan kung ano ang gusto nilang maging: doktor, vet, guro, pulis, weather forecaster, at iba pa. Palakpakan kami kada bata. Sa drowing ni Maria, may babaeng nag-aalaga ng sanggol. Napapaligiran siya ng maliliit na bata at mga laruan. Gusto niyang maging babysitter. Kahalo ng palakpak ang mga tawa.

·

“Baby ka muna ulit Damian,” sabi ni Pinky habang sinusubuan siya ng sabaw na may isda, luya, at dahon ng malunggay. Ngumingiti ang aming si Kuya Pogi at tinanggap ang alaga ng ina. Masunurin siya pagdating sa gamot, bimpo, lahat. Interesado sa termometer at parang kinakabisa ang lahat ng aming pagpoproseso at paliwanag. Patuloy din sa pagtuto si boy. Nagpaalam para subukan ang stethoscope. “Okay, normal heart lang kayo. Konting good pala ang fever. Kasi nilalabanan ang disease ng init.”

Biglang natawa si Misis. “Meron sa FB, ngayon lang daw niya naintindihan ang Goldilocks. Mainit ang kay Papa Bear, kay Mama Bear, malamig, kay Baby Bear, just right.” Lugaw ba ‘yun o tsamporado? “Kakain agad ang tatay, habang mainit pa. Hihipan ng nanay ‘yung sa anak, e di maligamgam. Kakain lang ang nanay kapag nakakain na lahat.” 

Malamig na. 

Tulang pinilas mula sa p.6 ng IBON praymer

Tingala ang sahod sa presyo ng bilihin.
Kaya kayod paitaas (pasalamat at empleyado).
Kapag nagsimula nang magtrabaho,
habang-buhay ka na sa empleyo.
Kung magbibitiw, may trabaho pa rin

ayon sa ekonomistang nakalukok:
Trabaho mo ang masiraan ng loob.
Walang suweldo ngayon, siya sige,
pero nagkasuweldo ka na kasi dati: touch move.
Trabaho ang magsisi—ang kapal ng mukhang umalis,

ni hindi nagtiis (o inalis at hindi tiniis).
Pagbutihin! Baka sakaling makakabawi bukas
makalawa sa mga pinagkakautangan.
Trabaho ang umasa. Tumanggap ng suhol na nagbihis
-ayuda. Magbanat ng boto.

Naghanap ka ng mas maayos na trabaho, sapat na kita,
at katrabahong hindi balat-kayo. Kasalanang mortal,
pero sa bansa... hindi ka unemployed!
May halaga ka, bahagi ka ng komunidad,
kabilang sa masasayang numero!

Ikinatataas ng noo natin—kahit
kanino—ang punyagi ng iyong pagkalugmok.

Loyalty Day 2024

On Thursday we’ll celebrate Loyalty Day in UPLB. This year we began early, Friday, October 4. Before noon the Trade Fair was open.

We now interpret October 10 as the commitment of constituents to the university, hence the parade of units and offices which we mounted a couple of days ago, on a rainy Sunday morning. Like the second semester’s Feb Fair, Loyalty Day is an occasion for alumni to pay a visit and initiate reunions. I understood these during my first year in service. Historical awareness will come later, not immediately.

Today I find the logical link between then (World War I volunteerism) and now (general mirth, pledges of loyalty and unity) best voiced by a post from the Business Affairs Office. 

Well and good, then yes? Our commitment to the university feeds into the university’s service to the nation and the world. Problems arise when we look into the grounds of this commitment, the nature of the service, and the direction of our loyalties. Who decides the nobility of a cause? Who benefits from this public act of volunteerism? Who gains more power, curries greater favor and from which hegemon? Salient questions as certificates of candidacy are filed, our ruling blocs carry the banners (though sometimes veiled, sheathed, or temporarily denied) of their choice foreign patrons (US or China) as they continue to court their favor and vie for domestic popularity. 

On October 13, 2012, Prof. Elmer Ordoñez published “Under the Stacks: Retrieving the forgotten past” an article for the Manila Times and a review of Saul Hofileña Jr.’s book. To illustrate Filipino subservience to the U.S. after 1916, Ordoñez mentions UPLB: “The Faculty and students of the University of the Philippines (Los Baños) volunteered to a man to enlist in the US Army at the start of the First World War. For decades, UP Los Baños celebrated this event as Loyalty Day. They had since come to their senses and called it Arbor Day.” 

While correct, Ordoñez missed two marks. Arbor Day—Tree Planting Day, an acknowledgement of our dependence and need for trees and ecological balance—was pegged at June 25 since 2012. 

1918, 2012, or 2024... 106 years, and we have yet to come to our senses.