Only the lonely

Saw a foot-long whip snake this morning on Pinky’s indoor bike. Must’ve slithered in from a hole in the window screen. Third time I encountered this type of snake. Did a shahai on the first one. 

Fortunately, I spotted this after two trips of sending the kids out to school. Expert friends (Joshua, Rei, and Sir Jun Lit) identified it as either Philippine whip snake or red whip snake, both classed as mildly venomous. Mating season is from November to January, Rei warns, so I should be wary of a possible hidden other. 

It was docile, and I’d hate to harm it. We used two laundry hanging rods to safely lead it away. Clumsy first attempts, but after figuring out its movement pattern (sidewinds to counter and escape) all that was needed was to keep it from seeking refuge in dark underspaces, fish it out immediately if it does, clear a path, and rush it out the door. Must be what hockey feels like.

Pinky asked what I thought when I found it, like, if mortality entered the picture. It didn’t. Or, it wasn’t the first or second thing. I puzzled over how I even noticed it. When I found it, the snake rested along the grooves of the indoor bike’s tread, head down, unmoving, perfectly camouflaged. By all accounts, I should’ve missed it. 

Later, during our fetching rounds, Pinky remembered how she once joked with Mang Luis, the housing office foreman, who once rounded up his crew to help us with a meter-long monitor lizard that managed to gain entry. “Mang Luis, may ahas sa bahay! Nakatuwalya pa!” 

We lost Mang Luis early this year. Now I’m thinking of the late Telesforo Sungkit, who we call Jun, who I tease with “Kabesang Tales,” an endearment which he maybe didn’t like (he’d smile just the same). He used to hunt snakes. Jun said they were more afraid of us than we were of them. That singular line has guided these few and far in between encounters with Ronald’s “danger noodle” and A’s “stringy boi”.

Nika

Naghanda kami sa bagyong Nika kahit kakaunti ang ulan at halos walang hangin. Mabuti na ang sigurado. Sinuspinde ng gobernador ang mga klase sa lahat ng antas kahit nasa TCWS #1 lamang ang Laguna. Dahil kaya hindi pa naghihilom sa Katrina? Hindi pa tiyak na tiyak sa mga estruktura? Gaya rin lang siguro namin, nanigurado. Baka tama lang dahil tuloy pa rin ang pagkumpuni sa mga kable. May mga kumpol pa ng mga retasong troso sa mga sidewalk. Walang tigil ang pag-iimis, pero marami-rami pang kalat na maaaring maging problema. At sa loob pa lamang ito ng kampus.

Sa labas, hindi pa tapos ang pamimigay ng yero sa mga nasiraan ng bahay. Hindi pa nga alam ng mga kuwalipikado tumanggap kung yero talaga ang iaabot o peperahin lang. Basta hindi raw hihigit sa dalawang pirasong yero.

Samantala, ang pagsuspinde ay gaya ng nakasanayan kong diskarte bago ang pandemya. Walang asynchronous-asynchronous, walang kahit anong kondisyones. Hindi ko alam kung pinagsisisihan ang pagsuspinde dahil naging kalmado ang panahon sa Laguna. Nangyayari na naman ito dati. Hindi pa rin 100% ang ating pagkilala sa lagay ng panahon.

Pumaitaas ang bagyo kaya napupuruhan ang mga kababayan natin sa Norte kahit katatapos lang nila kina Leon at Marce. At naku, may dalawa pang parating! Kung sakali, papangalanan silang Ofel at Pepito.

Ngayon ko lang naalala na Nika rin ang pangalan ng bida sa binabasang nonfiction ni Laurel Fantauzzo. (Salamat ulit kay Pau!) Kaka-landing ko lang sa pahina 100 at sa puntong ito, mas kilala ko si Alexis, ang bidang lalaki. Kaya rin siguro hindi ko agad naikonek sina NikaPH at Nika Bohinc. O sadya ko yatang iniiwasan ang pagsentro ng trahedya ng magkasintahan sa aking pag-iisip habang may hinaharap na mga peligro.

Samantala, may pasok na bukas at kailangang maghanda sa hatid-sundo. Martes ang pinakamaraming pabalik-balik. Kung matino-tino ang panahon, tingnan natin kung maipagpapatuloy ang labada. Pati na rin ang pagsasaayos sa bakuran. 

Mega stick

“Ayos ang stage, kuya! Parang hindi tayo binaha a.”

“Suwerte lang, hindi bumagsak ang putik,” paliwanag ni manong habang tinuturo ang bundok. Iyon kasi ang nangyari sa eskuwela nina Damian at Maria noong bagyong Milenyo. “Akala namin tapos na, naglilinis na nga kami e. Tapos bumalik. Doon, kasama na ang putik.”

Samantala, puros tubig lang daw si Kristine, madaling nalinis ang covered court ng hose. Kaso, tumaas nang husto ang baha nito. “Mataas [ang lupa] diyan, hanggang tuhod lang ang baha. Diyan sa parking mababa, hanggang dito.” Tinaga ni manong ng palad ang kanyang leeg. 

May tambak pa ng basura isang sulok: mga nasirang files ng mga guro at iba pang gamit ng paaralan. Bukod pa ito sa mga bagay na nais pa nilang salbahin. Puno ang mga koridor ng mga aklat na pinatutuyo.

“Nag-sorry si titser sa amin dahil sa mga placemat,” kuwento ng aking anak. Inanod siguro ang mga iyon. Isipin mo, kasagsagan ng bagyo. Nagsisilutang ang mga placemat sa loob ng bawat klasrum, mga lihim na piyesta ng tubig. 

Mabaho ang silid sa unang umaga ng eskuwela. Pinalabas muna ni titser ang mga bata at nag-spray ng disinfectant. Pagbalik ng mga bata, nahilo ang isa at nagsuka. Dinala sa nars.

Pagka-dismiss, napansin ng mga bata ang mga kahoy-kahoy sa playground. Natural, nailahok ang mga ito sa kanilang mga laro. “Log” ang tawag ni Maria sa isang malaki-laki habang “mega stick” ang turing ni Damian sa ilang mas maliit na, kung susundan ang kuwento, tila inaaari na nilang magkakaibigan. 

Sa kahalintulad na espiritu siguro tinuloy ang Halloween Party kahit sabi ni Pinky sa isang nanay, “Akala ko nga hindi na nila itutuloy. Magpa-Pasko na.” Para na rin siguro hindi masayang ang mga ensayong sayaw, mga naisumiteng kendi, ang matitinding mga bihis. Katunayan, walang kuryente sa covered court at kinailangang magpatulay ng mga ekstensyon mula sa canteen para sa sound system.

Samantala, habang masasaya ang mga bata, nagkukuwentuhan ang mga magulang tungkol sa bagyong Kristine. Natalupan ng bubong ang pamilya ng pinakamatalik na kaibigan ni Damian. Napinsala ang mga hindi pa tapos bayaran. Sulitin na lamang natin bilang kuwento. Kung hindi pa naiimis ang playground sa Lunes, may ihahaba pa ang buhay ng mga nalaglag na kahoy sa kamay ng mga bata.

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 one for an older mango and another for 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 brace, especially not with 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.