My Destiny: The Story of My Life

Destiny is a matter of making decisions;

of making the best whatever there is in you,

of trying not to commit the same mistake again, and

of accepting what happens in you.

Arsenio Unajan Baquilid, BSAE, MBA, DM

Preface

This book is exclusively and sincerely for my immediate and extended family members.  But nobody is prohibited from reading it; who knows you will enjoy reading it as there are lessons you might learn.  This is for your eyes only, but it may come into your brain and heart…  This is a true story. 

Book One was written when I was 68 and my wife 64. It is about the story of my life before retiring from the government service. It describes my experiences on the cruelty of poverty, the harsh realities of living, the frailty of misfortune, the value of work, the essence of love, the fragrance of success, and the joy of contentment. This is also a story of humility, honesty, decency, and hard work, living well, and loving with the fullness of the heart, no matter what the price is, and never been afraid in following my dreams, wherever they bring me. But, it is a story that could not be possible without the help of my Almighty.

Book Two is a sequel of Book One. It was written nine years after my retirement from the government service. It is a story of my life as a retiree. It is a story of a new millionaire who became a puffer. It is a story of a proud and brilliant manager who became the dullest of them all. It is a true story of misfortunes, sickness, near-death, healing and survival. It is a story of my second chance to be alive.  And above all, it is a story that money is not life after all.  This is my destiny: the story of my life!

A family photo in 1983 from left to right: Mama Myn, Tetet, Dedyl, Maimai, Alan & Papa Gene

BOOK

ONE

When I was young it was difficult to grow.

But I continued working and praying,

That I become better than what I am.

Chapter 1

My Early Beginning

I was born on September 30, 1940 in a languid and small place called Sitio Malid, in the barrio of Buenavista, town of Carmen, province of Bohol, and part of the Republic of the Philippines.  Its landscape was a complete natural beauty and serenity amidst the lurking of poverty.   It was a very remote community some twelve kilometers south of the world’s famous wonder, the “Chocolate Hills.”  It had no electricity, no water system and it can only be reached through a rugged footpath about five kilometers from the provincial road.  Our light at night came from the lamps my father improvised using empty small bottle with a wick consisting of discarded cloth and fueled either by coconut oil or kerosene.  We’d to put them off early in the evening to avoid the soot from entering our noses.  On the other hand, our drinking water came from an open-shallow well we dug beside a stream where water table is high.  We never thought it was unsanitary.

There were very few inhabitants then.  Their only source of living was farming. But income from a small farm with antiquated technology could hardly support them that all of their siblings did not go to school beyond elementary education.  Desperate poverty prevailed in the neighborhood.  So, even at young age many children would go to the City of Cebu or Manila to work as domestic servants or factory workers.  Then these children would send money back home to help their respective families.  With this in mind, people then believed that the more children a family has, the more blessed they were.

However, when I came into the light, the world was in trouble. It was in complete turmoil because it was then during the Second World War.  In fact I was baptized during the bombing of the Pearl Harbor in 1941.  And until I was four years old, the Japanese invaders occupied our place. There were bombings everywhere.  Japanese zero fighters and American aircrafts had frequent “dog-fights”.  Japanese soldiers on foot were more frightening than the air-raids. It was terrible.  It was a hopeless and helpless situation. There was almost nothing to eat and clothing was almost nowhere to find.  People went into hidings, transferring from place to place to avoid the fearsome Japanese.  Everybody was suspected supporters of the guerilla, a local resistance movement.  My father and his half-brother-in-law were captured once. They thought it was their end; people were beheaded here and there.  But they were released without harm because it turned out that my uncle was a former farm worker of a Japanese Haciendero in Mindanao, Philippines before the war broke out.  Very fortunately, the commanding officer of the Japanese army that caught my father and my uncle was the former employer of the latter.  Thus, instead of being beheaded, they were released with permanent passport granting liberty to move around.  More importantly, my community was spared from the atrocities of the war because of my uncle who was fluent in Nihongo.

My neighbors thought I got my nickname from the word “General”, being a “war-born baby.”  While my christened name is Arsenio, my nickname is Gene.  There is quite a mismatched and a confusing sound between the two.  So, latter on people gave me many nicknames… Senyong, Niyong, Arsing, or Ars.  However, my mother claimed that she wanted to name me Argenio but the baptizing priest won’t accept it for an absurd reason, it being not found in the Almanac.  (Almanac is partly similar to the Horoscope today).  At times I would think it was my mother’s mistake. But latter on I would blame the priest. Then I became used to it and enjoyed the honest mistake. My nickname would have had matched with the name proposed by my mother had the priest didn’t interfere.  I realized latter on that naming a child is a matter of utmost importance to the parents.  An unusual name is a cause of bullying in school.

As a child I was small and skinny.  Obviously, I was malnourished.  But in spite of poverty I was nevertheless neat in appearance.  I was reserve and introvert.  Most of all I was a day-dreamer, fond of creating fantasies and even went into hallucinations to obtain imaginary satisfaction.  Generally, I would avoid troubles.  Thus, I was very selective with playmates.  In my childhood, I hadn’t had any commercial toys.  Not even my younger brothers.  But we built/constructed our own toys; like kites, spinning tops, paper planes, paper boats, rattan balls, tin cars, and many more.   We even played with the chicken do the fighting even if they weren’t for fighting.  My habit to preserve my toys was admirable that they were recycled and reused many times.  We were very happy and contented with our toys, innocent as we were.

The main reason why I was undernourished as a child was I did not eat leafy vegetables.  I simply didn’t like their taste and smell.  Unluckily, it was the most common viand of the family.  That’s why my mother would reserve for me salted or dried fish; otherwise if it’s consumed before Saturday, I would have table salt as my viand for the remaining days of the week.  Saturday is the market day and the only day my mother would be able to buy some of our weekly household needs.  And moreover, we didn’t have money to buy stuffs for the kitchen.  We never had milk to supplement our nutrition. In fact, in my childhood I have never seen canned-milk at all.  I think that was why all of my siblings were skinny. 

The first family’s house I could remember was built of local materials.  The flooring consisted of lumber roughly cut and stood about two meters above the ground on several round wooden posts.  The roofing was built of cogon, a native grass commonly used for that purpose. In essence, it was primitive from all angles.  It was spacious though, but not strong enough to last a time.  Most of it was built by my father with very little help from a neighbor.  It had a big kitchen, a wide sala, and one over-sized bedroom also used as a common storage.  We all slept on the floor at the sala using either “bariw mat” or “buri mat”; which was woven out of the leaves of bariw palms and buri tree, respectively. The former was smooth while the latter was scratchy. Our blankets and mosquito net were made of the extracted thin outer layer of “buri” leaves stripped into strings and woven into fabrics by a loom-weaver like an interlacing machine… I never thought of anything better than what we already had.

The surroundings of our house were nature’s picturesque beauty… In front of it, just about one hundred meters away was a high mountain always green and mighty. We love to climb up the trail to the top to see the clouds almost touching the ground where there was a wide grazing land. There on the top we let our kites fly high and free. In the meadow we chase butterflies and sparrows… On the front yard were roses, daisies, suntans and sampaguita profusely glowing with multi-colored flowers. At both sides of the house were countless guava trees copiously bearing with fruits all year round more than enough for us to eat anytime we like. It was cool and clean beneath the trees that we love to roam around and play. In the farthest end was the haven of many small birds, tweeting and playfully jumping from twig to twig while piercing the over-ripe fruits and others were making their nests. A little yonder was a wide and clean river with steady and abundant water supply with its embankment and side slope still intact with vegetative covers of bamboos, shrubs, trees, vines, grasses and wild flowers. Beyond the river was our small slightly rolling upland farm intercropped with root crops, corn, and sporadic bunches of banana and abaca plants… Still a little further was our small irrigated rice paddies… In other words, because of nature’s endowed beauty and bounty, there was easiness on the place where we live.

We were seven siblings in the family. I had two elder sisters and four younger brothers. So, I was the third child but the eldest of the boys. In the later years another female child was born. With this, I have accepted the reality that someday I would be the right-hand of my father. So I watched him work to learn and even tried to help him in many little ways, even if sometimes I was a nuisance, I being just a little boy of very little help. But I was glad I was helping him like; giving him water to drink, getting fire from an ember for his pipe or tobacco, holding on something he was working on, pushing a tool closer to him, or even just scratching his back. Unmindfully, my bonding with my father became very strong.

I could remember when my fourth brother was born; I had to be moved out from the house to stay with my grandmother on my father’s side. There was a superstition among the old that it was a bad omen with a fourth son born in succession, and the only cure was, one of us had to be sold; otherwise one of us will die. So, I was sold for one peso to my grandmother whose house was just a kilometer away. But it was difficult because I was then four years old. My father would bring me home whenever he passes by. Thus, in the end the arrangement was discarded disregarding the omen… Then months rolled by and the bad omen was forgotten.

My father, Castor who was born in March 28, 1913 was a scion of a rich farmer. His father, Leon was a coconut magnet and a rancher.  Fate was however very unkind that my grandfather died very early when my father was still a little boy.  So, my grandmother, Narcisa Aum, a very beautiful woman remarried and had many children.  Her second marriage was however to a man who did nothing but lost their properties by gambling; like cock fight, cards, or the head-and-tail. There was very little left that they ended very poor.  So, my father only reached grade three and had remained a poor farmer.

I could remember the times that our family could not even have three meals a day. I would usually relieve my hunger by drinking water, or by eating root crops with coconut meat.  Then I would go outside the house and roam around the backyard to eat guavas, ripe or not.

My memory of my father as a person is that he was very helpful.  His capacity to help was beyond compare.  But it was this special trait that made him very vulnerable to self-destruction.  He would even give his only sack of palay reserve for seeds to give a meal to a hungry neighbor.  Or he would suspend his day’s work to counsel people in the verge of trouble. My father was also a very good conversationalist. His being a good listener made him as such. He was also intelligent and a natural leader. Even professionals and high ranking politicians would look up at him for suggestions as regards the political affairs of the community. In fact he was an undefeated Barangay Chairman. In his time there was no limit to the number of terms and years a Barangay Leader will serve in office. But then, there was no compensation attached to the position. All he got were the works and the expenses in entertaining visitors.

As a father, my father was extremely liberal in dealing with us. Believe it or not, he had never scolded any of us siblings, even if sometimes we made naughty things. Not even a slight spank or a little tweak.  It was my mother who was as ever on the alert in coaching our behavior.  But my father’s unrestraint handling with his children would at times result to a problem. One time my younger brother climbed up high on a scaffolding and shouted to my father asking permission to jump. My father without looking up at all said yes… And my brother jumped and came out limping.  In another time the same brother asked him; “Can I put this on my nose.”  My father gave the affirmative answer without knowing what it was about.  And the kernel of corn stayed in my brother’s nose for a month.  It couldn’t be removed until it had been soften.  But it had been a hell to my brother.

My father was a friend to all siblings.  For instance, he had time to play with us despite his busy days.  There were even times when he would advise his youngest son to take off from school to swim with him in the river.  Then at bed time he had fairy tales for his children.  Most of them however were just fictions.  He was also very slow to anger.  Whenever the children commit mistakes, he would only stroke their heads and explain why he does not like what the kids had done.  It was these likable traits of our father that we feel happy remembering about him; rather than sad, now that he is already dead.  He died on October 18, 1985 without the benefit of being brought to a hospital. But he died very easily without any struggle.  After a stroll, he just went to sleep and never woke up forever.

On the other hand, my mother, Hermenegilda Sojon Unajan who was born in April 13, 1918 was also a daughter of a rich family.  Her father, Jose Tiongco Unajan and mother, Honorata Lomocso Sojon were landlords of so many tenants.  Jose was once upon a time the Chief of Police of his town.  But unfortunately for my mother, she was not allowed to continue her studies after grade seven for a very inept reason – that females are only good for the house.  Then bad fate swept the family; her father died early, leaving many young sons and daughters.  This somewhat also forced her mother to remarry.  But like a bad dream, my grandmother remarried a lazy-bone and an addict gambler.  However, since my mother at that time was already at the age of reason, she was able to prevent her stepfather from touching the family’s properties.  Even so, the family suffered economically because the land became untilled and therefore was unproductive making the family poorer.  Fortunately, or unfortunately, my grandmother had many children of the second husband.

I would remember my mother as a religious, courageous, very hardworking and thrifty person. As to religiosity, before we would retire in the evening, she would lead the rosary. If we missed it, she would do it at dawn with my father, our participation not so required to allow us continue sleeping. She had memorized all the sorrowful, joyful, and glorious mysteries of the rosary, including the litany in Latin… She was courageous! Yes her courage was strong the fact that it was she who decided that I go to college. Thus, I wouldn’t have been an Engineer without that courage… She was a hardworking person! Her being such was beyond compare. She sewed dresses at home for a pay; wove buri mats, hats and bags for sale. She performed almost all of the household chores and still had time to help in the farm… She was very thrifty. Even with very little and unreliable family earnings, the family was able to buy more lands and had managed my schooling… When she died, my elder sister found money in five hundreds beneath her pillow case and she had both savings and time deposits in the bank. She died when she was ready for it at her old age of 86 on September 10, 2004. She died in the hospital due to complications in diabetes, an ailment we never thought she had. Very unfortunately, we didn’t know that diabetes runs in her family. And I have it myself.

My parents hadn’t gone outside of Bohol. So that when I was already married, the idea of them visiting us in Tacloban was not something to talk about. But I was only surprised when my mother came to see us unannounced in 1975 with no apparent reason other than just wanting to see us all. Then she came back after my lung operation in 1995 and stayed with us for a couple of months just to show her motherly love and care. The last visit was in 2000 during the wedding of my eldest daughter.

 Early in my life I understood that there was a great difference in the parenting style between my Fathers’ and mother’s. Whereas my mother liked to soothe and calm down us children, my father liked to excite and stimulate us.  While my mother was protecting and holding us tightly, my father was promoting independence and letting us do in our own way.  My father once said: “When I’m angry, you shouldn’t. And if you are, I won’t.  That I think was a good arrangement; that is, it is not possible for a quarrel to happen at all.

My parents would have been better off financially had fate did not cruelly play with them.  Maybe it was destiny making a joke.  Or maybe bad luck or misfortune had simply befallen on them.  But despite poverty, my parents happily and successfully spent their lives on earth together.  They had a good blending.  True enough to my father’s words; whenever my mother would be mad and irritable, my father would just hum an old funny song.  Whenever she would be unnecessarily silent, he would start talking about their rice fields.  And whenever it was my father’s turn to be emotionally short, which was very seldom, my mother would cooked their favorite pastry, bico. This is a cooked gelatinous rice variety mixed with coconut milk and sugar.  But whenever misunderstanding would be inevitable, my father would go downstairs and play with his favorite old guitar.  He was very good with it.

Believe it or not, there was no instance really in my life that I heard my parents had ever quarreled loudly.  It would be improbable if I say they had never argued, or had no difference in opinion at all.  Human as they were, there must have been.  But I am certain though that these arguments never amounted to something serious.  Maybe they quarreled very cautiously. Or maybe they were just smart to know that quarrelling between spouses is very personal; that it should not be known by other people, especially by the children.   

This was my early beginning. Thanks for our being poor, it made me stronger. Thanks to my good parents, they made me what I am.  

Chapter 2

My Growing Up

I SPENT MY GROWING up period in an environment closely knitted to the farm; both at home and at school.  It was about work, play and study.  It was also about my poverty, my happy memories, the misfortune, the blessings, the challenges, my ambition, the hard-work and my success combined into one.  My memory recall about this period started from my elementary grades until I graduated college.  

In the elementary grades, going to school was a lot of leg-work.  We had to hike over a four-kilometer distance on a rugged human trail, across a vast cogonal land, which was very sparsely populated.  We ran in group in our full delight, as if we own the world.  We loved the school very much because we have lots of time to play during recess and at noon break.  It was also fun learning that there were lots of things yet to learn.     

Our life was very simple then; hence my mind was always at peace.  I was never worried what to wear, as long as they were clean and free of worn-out cuts. Anyway, many of my classmates wore clothes not even as good as mine.  All of us didn’t wear shoes.  We only wore slippers at school and went bare foot when going home.  At school we ate our lunch in the classroom in our respective desk.  Sometimes when the weather is good we do it under the “manaba” tree on the walkway around the school’s plaza.  Our lunch was wrapped up with seared banana leaves, too cold but nice to eat.  In the later days we had our locally fabricated lunch box made of thin aluminum plain sheet, shaped as an oblong the size of a small dinner plate.  We never had snacks but we felt no hunger since we were used to it.  

There was an incident in my early childhood that is atrocious to remember.  One week-end when I was nine years old I accompanied my father to the farm. I was alone on the back of our carabao while my father followed walking.  My dog that was left behind came running after us and playfully bit the hind foot of the animal that made it jumped high instantaneously for having been frightened.  I was catapulted into the air in a somersault.  That was the last time I remembered before I went into unconsciousness. When I woke up it was already dusk.  People around told me that I had slept for ten hours.  Indeed, I completely blacked out that long.  It was a wrong notion I was sleeping. Had we known, I think I was in a short comatose. And because of the incident, I had a broken ankle and the bruises in my face and arms were terribly painful.  They informed me later that I was treated by a spiritist, a person who is believed to be in communiqué with the spirits to ask for help to heal a sick person.  At that time I could only surmise they did all their best.  I didn’t thought it was stupid.  I knew later though that something was wrong.  My full recovery took much longer time than expected because I had a broken rib.  An unschooled physical therapist could have done it better.  What my family didn’t know however was that I almost lost my life while they were waiting for me to be awaken.

When I was in the third grade at ten years old, my brother next to me died.  And it was then that we remembered the previous bad omen.  But I would remember now that he died as a result of ignorance, desperate poverty, and superstition.  The probable cause of his death must be Tetanus because he had a lock-jaw.  He had stepped on a thorn of a giant lemon tree beside our house which we loved to climb.  The death of the child naturally was unbearable and devastating to everyone.  He was a very nice boy, respectful and obedient, almost perfect.  He was my favorite.  He never had anyone quarreled.  I used to carry him at my back to the toilet, to the kitchen, to the river to take a bath, and to anywhere he likes to stray or play.  He could not walk for three weeks as a consequence of his swollen right foot.  It had an infection, but that we didn’t know. Then he assured me of the same favor in return when he is well.  Despite the pain in his eyes he could still smile.  During the days when he cried hard for pain, we would only use herbs and concoctions only my mother knows what and how.  Apparently, that was the practice those days.  But even if medical services or medicines were thought of and available, that was impossible without money.  

The day after the burial of my brother, the four of us brothers got seriously ill all at the same time with the same symptoms: vomiting, loss vowel movement and high fever.  I myself did not feel any particular pain but I was very weak, so weak that I lost strength even to open my mouth to eat… Then I became unconscious.  I did not know what happen after that, but when I woke up after an hour, so I was told, I found myself asking for water.  After a couple of days, the four of us had recovered from that illness.  I was informed that the municipal sanitary inspector had disinfected our whole house.  But the quack doctor claimed we were granted relief by the evil spirits because of his pleading for mercy.  He then declared that our house obstructed the spirits’ passage. Whether it was true or not was not important.  What mattered was we were alive.  But the trouble was, because of superstitious beliefs, the family demolished our big house.  My parents couldn’t afford to accept any possibility the quack doctor was wrong. Accordingly, they made a plan to move to my mother’s place, at a nearby Barangay to start anew: with a new hope and a renewed faith – and a bigger farm.  Later on it was this farm coupled with hard work that allowed the family to continue living.

The death of my brother had resulted to a very dramatic change in the way my mother dealt with her siblings.  From a disciplinarian type, she became extraordinarily kind and accommodating.  On Saturdays she would buy our favorite local magazine in the vernacular and read to us our most awaited serialized novels.  We would scramble around her after dinner including my father too eager to listen.  She was a very effective and efficient reader with sound effects and gestures.  On Sundays we would go together to a nearby big and clean river to take a bath and wash our clothes.  We enjoy swimming catching the crab and mad fish until we quiver with the cold water.  Then, we would climb up the farm to boil or roast whatever is available; like root crop, banana, or young corn.  With the crab and the mad fish if lucky to catch, that was more than enough for us. My mother said it was her way of forgetting the sad memories of her son.  But I don’t know if anyone of us understood what family bonding is all about.  That was the best I could remember now.

The transfer of my family to our new place excited everyone that they’d forgotten to inform me we’re moving that day.  So, when I returned home from school one afternoon, our makeshift where we were temporarily staying was empty.  I learned only from our neighbor that the family had already moved out.  I lost my good demeanor and was in panic.  I felt I was abandoned… All I did was to run and run very fast towards the direction of our new place.  I was under extreme trepidation.  It was already getting dark. So, over a six-kilometer distance on a very rugged terrain going up and down the hill, I sprinted without stopping.  I stumbled many times and cried hard until I reached the place.  I arrived with many cuts on my feet; very hungry, very thirsty and exhausted.  But I was happy at last I found my way to see my family.

Our new home was another makeshift.  It was very temporary.  In fact it was not yet finished when we transferred.  It was constructed at the center of a wide piece of land. Our nearest neighbor was more than five kilometers away.  Nearby was a wide river, the lower end of the river in our previous place.  It had several tributaries where we got our drinking water in a spring.  We still did not have electric power.  But it was this house that we gradually improved and extended until it became our permanent home.  All of us siblings grew up in this house… And with the relentless efforts of my parents, none of us siblings went to the City to work as domestic servants.

In the elementary grades, I was particularly good in Arithmetic.  And I belonged to the top bracket of the class.  I was one of the favorite pupils and never had into trouble. I was inspired by a well-heeled pretty girl, the only daughter of our principal and my grade one teacher.  We were not classmates as she was one year behind me.  But we met at school every day, except that we never talk.  I was always ashamed and speechless in her presence.  So, we would only steal a look and pose a smile that to me meant a million words.  I think it is a genuine friendship between a poor and a rich!

Even if we didn’t talk with each other, I considered her as a Very Special Friend. Whenever she would have a message for me; which was very seldom, she would have an emissary.  These were questions like; “Will you be joining the Boys Scout Jamboree? Or simply; “Where were you yesterday…?” So, I thought she took me as a friend, especially that she had given me many kind favors and special attention.  I couldn’t forget the many little innocent things she did: the notes and words she would send to me, inquiring whenever I would be absent from classes; and my favorite local weekly magazine she would sometimes send me on Saturdays, when she would notice my mother failed to buy one.  I would also remember the viand she would occasionally share at lunch time and the voluntary defense she would offer to protect me whenever someone would talk at my back.  These were little things but as far as I was concerned they were of the essence and very memorable.  I don’t have the gut feeling to remember now.  Maybe, they were done out of sympathy, or even mercy, or for pure and simple gesture of good friendship; but nonetheless they certainly proved my claim she was not just an ordinary friend. She was my Very Special Friend!

I would refuse to call it infatuation or even puppy love; I didn’t know what it was all about.  All I know was whenever she was around, I wouldn’t be me. I would feel too nervous and my heart would go out puffing.  And whenever she was not around, I would keep on dreaming and thinking about her; whether I was asleep or awake.

When I was in the Grade Six my Very Special Friend was in the Grade Five. She would sometimes stealthily come into our room and set somewhere at the corner.  Our teacher, who happened to be her father, did not question to her setting in the class.  It was her teacher who was also her mother who restrained her from doing so.  But she still could do it sometimes when her mother is engrossed in doing something.  Then later on, many of our classmates started teasing about us; I didn’t know why.  Maybe there was something in our actuations that we were unaware of, but were revealing.  But every time a friend would tease her about me, instead of getting mad, she would just smile and say nothing.  Normally, she would be furious when amorously paired with someone else.

One day her parents heard about the rumor.  They were mad.  I got the bitter part of the story.  They said how I dare could have the courage.  But the truth was that they didn’t know I did nothing, except that I was poor and she was rich.  They did not know also that maybe their daughter did not mean any malice at all.  Maybe it was pure and simple innocent friendship.  But virtually, that incident taught me and my Very Special Friend a lesson.  I started to pretend not paying her attention against my very wish.  And she too started to keep distance, maybe realizing there was a need to change the flow of thoughts and put things in their proper perspective.  I really didn’t know how to react correctly because I was confused.  There were so many maybes; but one thing sure was, “I was tremendously challenged.”  And, it is this reason how my very special friend became part of my destiny.  She lighted up my burning desire to be better than her father.

That was the beginning of the big challenge in my growing up; a challenge that generated an enormous strength to fight for an impossible dream.  I realized I had to be more of what I was and what I had.  And so the need to grow started to creep in my mind. Inside me was lighted the burning desire to be free from the quagmire of innocence and poverty… Then, I began to complain about my life.  I thought that my life was trodden with so many problems, and I thought of how difficult life is and how it is hard to understand… I was challenged.  So, I made a resolve to redirect my destiny.  I wanted to earn a college degree.  But I knew I didn’t know how.

I prayed hard that heaven and earth will help me do something out of my life.  I studied my lessons to learn what there is to know about.  But studying was difficult.  At night there was just a dull light from the kerosene lamp in which I could not read my books, especially that I had a night blindness.  At week-ends there were works at home and in the farm that were seriously competing with my studies.  I really did not have quality time to study.  But every night when there’s no more work to be done after supper, my mother would demand that we study our homework even under the poor lighting because she was very concerned of our grades at school.  Her ambition was to come up the stage to pin the merit of honor.

My mother once told us a good lesson. She said; “All works without play makes Joe a dull boy.” But I think the lesson means; “There is a time to play and a time to work.”  However, we found out that there was very little time to play.  The unspoken rule was “I can play if my work is done.”  But that was very seldom.  Most often than not, there were works still undone.  When one is finished another one is waiting. Nevertheless, I would play with my neighbors and my brothers when my mother was not around.  But when she would catch us playing while the work is still undone, I would always get the pinch, usually on my ear.  That was the rule, me being the eldest in the siblings.

I remember we used to swim in the river behind our house to play.  I almost got drown twice, but I kept on doing it when there were chances until I learned swimming. Later on I didn’t mind if I get a reprimand as long as I could swim.  On Sundays however, my mother would allow us to play and seldom gives us work.  I loved to play volleyball – lots of volleyball. I was good at it!

To my mother, her siblings’ childhood should be a good combination of work, play and study.  But to my father it was very simple.  He wouldn’t mind whatsoever we do in dividing our time.  His idea was we can play when we are not working or studying; we can work when we are not playing or studying; or we can study when we are not working or playing.  It’s funny but that was how simple it was to my father.  It was however important to him that there would be no quarrelling among the siblings.  This was very understandable of him because he was a very liberal and loving father.  But my mother would frequently remind him of her old adage;  “You can’t bend a branch of a tree when it’s already big.”

I was twelve years old when I graduated in the elementary.  I was lucky I was the first honorable mention in the class.  So my mother got her ambition fulfilled.  You could have imagined how happy and proud she was pinning to me that small green ribbon with golden tassel hanging on the lower end.  When I walked down the stage, I saw my Very Special Friend at a distance.  I prayed she would come near me to shake my hands for the first and maybe the last time.  But it didn’t happen.  

Then, the sad thing was I could not enroll in the high school.  The reason was obvious: we don’t have the money.  So, I stayed at home to help my parents in the farm during the school year 1954-1955.  I knew my mother was very sad.  But there was nothing we can do under the circumstances.  However, in the following school year, I was able to enroll in a private high school under the tutelage of our Parish Priest.  I didn’t have any problem passing all my subjects.  I excelled in Algebra.  But the problem was as usual-financial.  We could not afford to support my study any further.  Moreover, it was expensive in the private school.

I quitted school the following school year 1956-1957 and helped again my father tilled the land. It was all right during the first cropping season. I was an industrious and excellent farmer at the age of 13. It was during this time that we had a remarkable surplus in rice production… Then the problem started during the second cropping season when I got involved with my friends.  In the night we engaged in drinking sprays, we indulged in bingo sessions, we went to benefit dances, we went to serenading, or just simply gathered around inside the chapel till the wee hour in the morning.  So, during the day time when I would go to work in the farm, I would be very sleepy, naturally.  Hence, I would sneak into the bushes and sleep.

When my parents learned of what was happening; they went berserk.  The next thing that happened was a bad relationship.  They would not talk to me nicely anymore. There occurred a vacuum between me and my family.  I did not like their way of handling the situation.  Despairingly, I spent more and more of my time with my friends foolishly.  I started courting women.  There was no one who can give me advice.  So, I just courted anyone who comes along.  But no one would take me seriously because I was just a kid.  My parents thought I was that bad, but in truth I was only trying to get their attention.  I was in this kind of life for one half year until one day I realized what I was doing was totally wrong.  I regretted I spent six months of my life in a very messy way. Thus, without anyone telling me, not even my own parents, I stopped my gallivanting attitude and started helping again in the farm, this time even doubly hard.  As if I was punishing myself to recover the lost time.  Virtually, my work paid a lot; I had recovered the trust and confidence of my parents.

I never felt any fatigue when I was farming.  Under the heat of the sun almost the whole day and sometimes caught up in the rain, I enjoyed immensely working.  What was more enjoyable and satisfying was seeing the crops growing with a promise of a bountiful harvest… And harvest time was always our most awaited time.  But the trouble was our income was never sufficient.  So, while I enjoyed farming I was also afraid I will end up a farmer for the rest of my life.  This was because as a farmer I could not even support myself; how much more if I will have a family of my own.

Lucky for me, I had an elder sister next to me who persuaded me to go back to school.  She said I would be wasting my brain if I don’t find a way.  As such, she suggested that if I am desirous I could go to the capital city and make my way as a self-supporting student. But the idea didn’t interest me as I would be facing many uncertainties.  However, when she later on decided to enroll both of us in the public rural high school in the nearby municipality, I agreed thinking that she will be around to take care of my needs anyway.  It was then that I started again my interest in school.  I had to repeat my first year enrolment because I did not have agriculture subject in the private school.  But my academic subjects were accredited.  Hence, I became an irregular student at the Bilar Rural High School starting the school year 1957-1958 when I was already running 17 years old.  I had first year agriculture subject in the morning and second year academic subjects in the afternoon.

It was good during the first year because my sister had a savings from her little sari-sari store.  But on the second year, she decided to stop schooling.  She realized the impossibility of supporting our studies considering that her savings had already been exhausted.  It was then that she confided to me her secret; that her only intention was for me to resume schooling.  Thus, I was left behind since my mother was convinced I should continue my studies.  By then it was also difficult for me to leave the school.  I’d learned to love it.  I was encouraged as my name always appeared in the bulletin board as number one in the honor rolls.

In order to reduce expenses, I transferred to a cottage provided by the school for students who had no place to stay and who cannot afford the private boarding house. There was a time though in my third year when I was about to stop schooling again.  A severe drought had damaged the crops of my father.  We could not even afford my rice allowance.  I did not have any money for my transportation fee in going home during the week-ends.  In the end it was my sister who was already married by then who saved me. For a semester she supplied my rice allowance, but I minimized my going home on week-ends.

During my high school days, I noted I had inferiority complex.  I pretended to carry a motto; “no time for love” so my female classmates would pay me no attention.  In the Library I would bury my nose on the books to avoid conversation from the opposite sex.  They called the library as “loverary.”  But in my case I refrained from courting or even talking to the girls because of that inferiority complex.  In fact I had no socializing activity in school.  I even didn’t dance at all during social hours.  I just stayed at the back. As I would reminisce later on, I realized I missed life because of that deplorable inferiority complex.

Meanwhile, I was appointed by the school the leader of six students for our practicum in Agriculture. We were given one-fourth hectare lowland rice field to cultivate and practice farming during our practicum.  Our curriculum provided that only one-half of the days were devoted to academic subjects, while the other half were for agriculture classes.  Ninety-five percent of the period for agriculture class was utilized for actual practicum in farming.  However, aside from the experiences and the grades that the students got, we were also given 75% of the proceeds from the farm as our share. The same was divided among the group members in proportionate to their individual time records of attendance.  In that way we earned little money while in school.  However, what was not good was on our academic preparation.  It meant that generally, a graduate from an agricultural high school would be inferior academically compared with those from the private school.

Anyway, it was not difficult for me in the practicum.  I was used to it at home. What were not easy were my members who for some dubious reason did not pay interest in our practicum.  So I did most of the work and got a bigger share.  One serious problem though was that our group was given an old water buffalo which moved very sluggishly and was too hard on the nose.  This problem was aggravated by the fact that our lowland rice field had a deep hard pan too difficult for the carabao and us to maneuver.  There were also lots of leaches which were very scary to the skin and chilling to the bone.  But in the end we had survived and completed the requirement.  Incidentally, I am afraid of leaches.

When I was in the fourth year I had no more classes in the afternoon.  I was advance in academics because of my prior study in the private school. Hence, I had very little to study. As a result, I was one among four students with the same status that were hired by the school to operate the electric generator and the pump engine to provide electricity and domestic water for the school campus, respectively. We were paid sixty centavos per hour.  The wages were useful those days.  But it was very tiresome since the electric generator had to be operated from 6:00 to 10:00 in the evenings and 4:00 to 6:00 in the mornings.  It was worse when teachers and/or visitors would play ground tennis in the evening as the operation of the electric generator would be extended up to even twelve midnight.  On the other hand, the regular schedule of pumping water was from 4:00 AM until the tank is filled-up, normally until 6:00 in the morning; or anytime of the day there is a need to it; that is if there would be no more water in the faucets.

I felt I was important though.  Teachers, employees and students would be calling and looking for me and my companions when they need light or water.  But what was vital was the money I earned that supported me financially.  

There was a funny but memorable incident when I was in my fourth year.  A friend of mind played joke to my having no girlfriend when he knew of someone who was silently in love with me.  Naughtily, he courted the girl for and in my behalf.  The poor girl accepted at once the proposal via my alleged emissary.  When my friend recognized the problem of embarrassing the lady, he pleaded to me to pretend as if it was true.  I pitied the girl too, she being an innocent victim.  Hence, there and then I had my ready-made sweetheart.  But the problem was that I didn’t have any feeling towards her. Actually, she was not my type, except her brain.  She was the brightest in the “female section.”  The girls were separated from the boys in the class sectioning.  Then, some of my close friends made a joke after learning the situation by asking money from her to celebrate my birthday on a date it wasn’t true.  She had a monthly stipend from the government being a daughter of a war veteran. In the end I had two birthdays to celebrate in that year.  And I found myself in a quandary of explaining the situation.  I had to make a good alibi to save the face of everyone by again pretending it was true.  The lesson is; never play a joke with serious consequence.  The truth was, even if I was innocent at the beginning, I allowed myself to be used as an accomplice, hence guilty just the same.  But our secret, I and my naughty friends remained secret forever.   

I remember there was a hill inside the school compound that was called by the school authorities as “mahogany lane”, but the students called it “lovers’ lane.” It was beautifully landscaped with different colorful flowers and shaded by luxuriant “mahogany trees.”  But I never liked to go up the lane.  If you go up alone the lane, you would look lonesome and stupid.  If you go with the same sex, one will look like a gay or a lesbian; as the case maybe.  But if you go there with your sweetheart, you have to be discreet because the guard will reprimand you and report it to the school’s Guidance Counselor.  But the students were wiser.  A group of students with similar sex would go up the lovers’ lane together with an alibi of studying together.  But later on their respective lovers would join later.  My classmates thought they were wise for tricking the school guard until one got pregnant and they were expelled from the school. 

Aside from the fact that my name consistently appeared in the bulletin board as number one in the honor rolls, it was also conspicuously visible in the school publication as its News Editor.  Most of my articles were posted in the bulletin board too.  I was the most diligent and popular contributor-writer.  In fact I wrote the “Last Will and Testament” and “The Class Prophecy” of the graduation issue of the “Golden Grains”, the school’s publication. They should have been written by the year’s valedictorian.

The most remarkable record I made was in Geometry. After the first periodical examination, I was always exempted from all subsequent examinations because my teacher was extremely impressed by my academic performance in the subject.  I obtained the highest general average rating among all graduating boys of two sections.  I could have graduated valedictorian among the boys if average grade was the sole criteria.  The girls had their separate sets of honor rolls.   But I only ended up as the First Honorable Mention.  In fact our Valedictorian and Salutatorian had verbally apologized for the unexpected ironic twist of events.  I knew the reason though that because of my inferiority complex; I appeared to be not very friendly to some teachers.  So, when they made the ranking among the first five topnotch in general average rating, majority of the teachers did not vote for me.  There was nothing I could do, it was a school policy.  I graduated high school in 1962 as third in the ranking and with a special award as “machinist” of the year.  But I knew I should have not been given that special award because another student was more skilful than me.  I graduated high school when I was running 21 years old.  By that age, I should have been already a college graduate.

The decision that I go to college was crucial.  In fact I felt it was unfair to my siblings.  My two elder sisters did not even finish high school.  My younger brothers were not even interested in going to high school because we were poor.  They saw how difficult my case was.  My family members argued over the impossibility of sustaining my schooling.  But my parents decided that I should go.  So, they sold our only carabao (a farm animal that is used to plow the land). The other members of the family had to agree, after all I was the only qualified to finish a course and be the pride of the family.  And probably in the future I could help the family in return.

Nevertheless, my worry was we had only one carabao.  What will my father now use in farming?  What about my second semester enrolment?  Where will I get my monthly allowances?  But I never asked these questions.  They were just kept creeping at the back of my mind.  At any rate the schooling had not even started yet.  So, to appease myself, I adopted the Spanish song “que sera sera,” what ever will be, will be.  But honestly, at the bottom of my heart, I felt I needed a miracle to finish my college education.  The thing however was, I myself strongly doubted if I deserve such a miracle.

Finally, I’ve mastered enough courage and together with five co-graduates in the high school, also of poor farmer families, we went to Central Mindanao University in far Musuan, Bukidnon to venture into college education.  We constructed a small cottage in a place allocated by the school for those who cannot afford to stay in the school dormitory. Its main structures were built of round timbers we gathered from a nearby forest.  The purlins, flooring and other secondary parts were bamboos and the walls were rough lumbers we bought from the natives. The roof was cogon grass we cut from a nearby uninhabited land.  It looked like a poultry house, but it was clean, cool and net.  We fabricated our kerosene lamp in the absence of electricity.  We got our domestic water from a shallow well we dug, except the drinking water which we fetched from a nearby public faucet.  We planted vegetables, corn, root crops, and bananas in our 20-20-meter lot.  The harvests were bountiful because the soil in Musuan was very fertile.

Musuan is the university village located in the province of Bukidnon in the highland central part of Mindanao.  It was then the only institution that was offering Agricultural Engineering in the entire Visayas and Mindanao archipelagos.  Since the place was far from the regular set of commerce and industry, the school provided the basic services.  It had a market place with dry and wet products, dress and tailoring shops, beauty shops and restaurants.  There was a big cooperative store almost complete with household and school items.  It had also a postal office and a telegram service.  Fresh cow’s milk, fruits, vegetables, eggs, chicken and pork were abundant and cheap, they being produced by the school.  In other words, almost everything you need to buy is available inside the compound.

I would never forget Musuan. Anyone who is a lover of nature would undoubtedly appreciate Musuan.  The boulevards were lined with cypress and pine trees that whistle during the windy days.  Overlooking the school compound is the mighty Musuan Peak that symbolizes struggle that only very few would challenge its height, its top seems already kissing heaven.  On the lower eastern end is a navigable river swarming with wild ducks and many other bird species.  Into the night what you will hear are the chirpings of the crickets and the singing of other nocturnal life.  And if you would like to relax after a hectic day, you can stroll at the refreshing Fulbrights Garden constructed at the center of a large pool teeming with telapia fish.  Or you can just sit on the huge clean stones in the open Amphitheatre to watch the fireflies and the bats in the durian trees unto the calmness of the night.

During those days, it will take at least two days to reach Musuan from my place by land and by sea.  In those days there was no airline traversing the route.  The travel would be despairingly expensive, risky and tiresome.  From my place, there is a bus ride to the port of Jagna, Bohol for about two hours.  Then, there will be that endless wait for a boat.  A small, old, slow moving and filthy boat will ferry you to Cagayan de Oro City in about six hours.  The trip would be extremely tormenting, especially if the sea is wavy. From there, a bus will take you to Musuan, which is the most dangerous part of the travel. It will take about five hours along a very rugged road rolling over high mountains and passing on the edges of deep crevasses, not to mention the fear of being hold-up.  But I was less bothered about these nature-human’s atrocities. What mattered much was the unaffordable travel expenses.  Thus, in my five years of stay in Musuan, I only went home twice.  The rest of the semestral, annual and Christmas vacations, I stayed behind reading and studying almost all the books related to my incoming major subjects.  Of course the irresistible enigma of loneliness and homesickness persisted to reminisce.  But to my opinion that was my only best option I had under the circumstances.   

The most rigorous subject in college in so far as Musuan standard is concerned was Reserve Officer Training Course or ROTC.  This was the two-year mandatory military training course.  In the first semester, the new enrollees were considered Plebes, a status lower than the lowest cadet.  We were treated very shabbily.  We were treated like dogs.  The training was really very strict.  But in the second year my situation was easier than the rest.  In a little smarter way I was selected by the Company Commander as the Company’s Guidon Bearer.  I didn’t have to participate in platoon drills, but just carried the banner during company formation.  While the rest were fretting under the heat of the sun during practice drill, I was setting under a shady tree.  It was the easiest part in the ROTC.  I got this special assignment because I would not miss to salute to my Company Commander whenever we meet even if it was not ROTC formation.  So, he thought of me as a very disciplined cadet.  Also I have helped him in his Algebra subject.  My actuations paid off and made my condition a bit comfortable.  

When I was in the second year I learned a very important lesson from my best friend.  He was a high school classmate.  We were close; stayed in the same cottage, shared in almost everything we had, almost of the same behavior: shy but very active in school… In college we studied together, slept side-by-side, ate together, and did almost everything together… In short, we were more than brothers!  But one early morning he said; “I have decided to change my attitude and behavior.  Being shy won’t do any good to me…”  I thought he was not serious of what he said.  But in the evening when the cottagemates were assembled, I was shocked to notice that my friend who was once a polite and refined person had become the most arrogant and insulting person I had ever met.  He would disagree in almost anything my cottagemates would say even if he wasn’t concern… In the days that followed until we graduated, my friend had developed a superiority complex.  But what was good was he still treated me as his friend.  In fact he still acknowledges me being better than him in the academics.  While I noticed his sincere desire to maintain our friendship, yet I felt I had lost my best friend forever.  But he taught me this very valuable lesson: “That it is possible to set aside your past and design your future.”  I said possible because only very few people can really change one’s behavior so quickly and easily.  But if you can the way my friend did, it is important that “you change for the better, not for the worst; gain friendship not enemies.”

It was in my third year high school that I had encountered many extraordinary crises. One was caused by my eagerness to learn. We had a subject with a course title of “Advanced Farm Mechanization”.  Our Professor was somewhat lazy or maybe not very familiar with the course syllabus.  So, for already four meetings after the semester got started, instead of holding the classes, we were only required to perform manual labor by cleaning the school compound, cutting tall and aged shrubs at the back of the motor pool. I disliked the practice.  So I wrote to the School Registrar asking a copy of the subject description and expressing my interest of improving the situation.  The letter was endorsed to our Professor who went berserk and even challenged me to a fight, which was unfair not only that he was my Professor but also he was almost twice my size.  In front of my classmates, he made a promise that he will never allow me to pass any subject under him.  I couldn’t believe in his reaction that made my good intention precarious.

I was terrified that I didn’t had the courage to meet him in a more humane time and peaceful place to explain that my intention was not bad or maybe to ask forgiveness for what I have done.  Instead I did nothing but waited for whatever consequence the problem may arise.  My predicament was there’s no way I could transfer to another course or move to another school.  So, I accepted the risk of staying steadfast.  I then inquired, borrowed and read all the books with their specific authors that Professor is using on all possible subjects I will be under him.  I read and studied them very well one semester in advance.  As a result he didn’t have a chance to fulfill his promise because I was the consistent topnotcher in all his subjects.  If it happened that my academic performance under him was just average, I would have not finished my course.  I excelled in my Professor’s subjects because I studied very hard.

Another crisis that occurred when I was in the third year was a result of the severe drought that hit the country in 1965. The drought had practically destroyed the farmers’ crops.  There was famine.  So, our allowances were reduced and didn’t arrive on time. For a long time we’d continuously eaten banana fruits.  To avoid monotony, we varied the method of cooking.  Meanwhile, the effect of the drought was felt on the national scale.  Rice importation was delayed.  There was no commercial rice available in the market.  So, we bought our rice from the government through the National Food Authority (NFA) by ration that the queues were long.  Worst was the NFA rice stank and was heavily mixed with unclean grains.  As a consequence we continued eating banana fruits.  So without the bananas which we planted earlier, survival could have been not possible.

It was also in my third year that for thinking about my financial problem, I got depressed.  I had frequent gas pains and had difficulty in sleeping.  The problem persisted for one semester and it was difficult.  However, my health and financial problems didn’t blemish my ambition to finish my studies.  Fortunately, the following semester there was a bountiful harvest that improved the family’s income.  So do my depression had banished with the resolution of the financial crisis.  School was good again… It was then that I appreciated the application of my knowledge in problem-solving: that all mathematical problems have solutions. Being no solution is an answer in itself.  In real life, when you cannot solve a problem, accept it as your human limitation and let life drifts along with it.  In other words, being pliable sometimes helps.

My second and last vacation to Bohol was after my third year.  Upon arrival I was extremely surprised upon seeing my mother already at her late stage of pregnancy.  I could not believe what I saw.  She had a baby at the age of 45.  I thought it was not possible.  I was apprehensive how she would handle physically and financially.  Somehow I was also ashamed questioning the well of nature and the blessings of God.  So I ended my mind’s eye praying that my mother and father can still carry the situation and that they be given a baby girl to be with them at old age…   

My parents had a baby girl…  But many years later I found out that I had to offer to my parents the help of sending my youngest sister to college... She became a Civil Engineer.  I was glad remembering these were parts of my prayer that came true.  But in the later days my sister got married and moved to her husband’s place; the farthest away from her mother in the town of Isabela, the upper most part of Luzon.  Hence, I was sad that part of my prayer that “mother’s youngest to stay with them at old age” didn’t come true.  But my mother said: “not all you want will be given unto you”.

Even if my parents had the difficulty of supporting my five years schooling, it was evident that we will be able to make it.  Apparently, they went into all sorts of borrowings and even incurred bank loans using their land as collateral.  For my part and for the consolation of my parents I studied hard and made good in school.  I knew I was not really very intelligent but I knew too well I was very diligent.  So, I have never had any problem with academics.  I didn’t experience at all any difficulty in passing exams and in fact most often than not, I got the highest scores.  It was certainly because I was very studious and hardworking.  I became the News Editor of the School’s Publication, “The Musuan Torch” and the Editor-in-Chief of the 1967 Year Book, the “CMU Blazer.” I served as president and set on various positions in many student organizations.  I co-founded the Sigma Alpha Epsilon Fraternity and organized the Sigma Alpha Omega Sorority in 1966 and became the first Supreme Grand Epsilonian.  The Fraternity is now one of the biggest and most active Fraternities in the Philippines.

One of the most critical requirements for graduation was the conduct of our thesis. Our study required our group of five to plant hybrid tomato to test its productivity responses on various water level applications.  But a very serious problem occurred when the army-worms wipe-out our plants a couple of weeks after planting.  We have to repeat the planting immediately to catch up with the schedule.  We needed more manpower to do the job, but there was no fund available to hire labor.  We were lucky though; some senior students offered their help voluntarily.  Without their help it would have been a real trouble completing our thesis which would have prevented us from graduating… Actually, most of the students who helped us were only repaying back some prior favors I’ve done in the past.  I have helped them passed in their Physics, College Algebra and Trigonometry subjects during final exams by giving them the answers in a very surreptitious way.  For non-engineering students like them, these subjects were their worst enemies.

I had mixed emotions when I graduated Bachelor of Science in Agricultural Engineering in May 4, 1967.  I was already running 27 years old.  I was extremely happy because I made it, but awfully sad because there was no family member that witnessed my graduation.  There was no friend to share with my happiness and it made lonely notes that lingered in my heart.  And so I recognized I was wrong in not finding a way for my parents to come.  I realized then that it is very difficult for a person to be happy alone.

After the graduation ceremony, there was nobody who could be with me. Everyone was with their respective families.  And I do not have even a girlfriend to think of.  In our time and under Musuan environment, it was almost impossible to have no girlfriend when one is graduating.  I think I was the only one I knew who was impossible. At that instant, I realized I missed the opportunities, but didn’t feel remorseful over it as I had a very good reason for doing it: my studies being of supreme importance more than anything else… But at the moment the melancholic mode affected my spirit.  Thus, I went back to our cottage alone and stayed for a while in solitude.  Loneliness was overwhelming.  I cried.  It was so nice to cry.  I felt relaxed as tears rolled down my checks.  Then I realized how silly of me to behave that way.  I went back to the social hall and joined with a group of frat men.  When someone said congratulations, it was then I felt the greatest happiness I have ever had in my life.  It was the first time in my life I was congratulated.

I went home a couple of days after getting my transcript of records and diploma. I noted that the school campus was no longer for me. I felt I was ready to do something somewhere; something I was pretty sure, but somewhere I wasn’t certain. I thought my departure would be easy. But when I left Musuan, my heart was very heavy. It was hard to breathe. I could not hold back my tears. So I rode the bus unscheduled and very secretly to avoid dramatic and tearful good-byes. Indeed, it was unbearable to leave the place that had been a part of my life. There is one thing I do not like myself. I am a very sentimental person. It made me weak.

After a month of self-study, I went to Manila to take the board exam without taking a formal review class. My trip to Manila was my first time that it was indeed a horrific experience, especially that I was alone. I missed our group because of my delayed arrival at the port. As a consequence I sent a cablegram to my cousin who was then working in Manila to meet me at the dock. I stayed in his place which was miserably unfit for my purpose being a stockroom since he was only a utility worker. Luckily however, after three days I was able to contact a former friend, who visited Musuan when I was in the fifth year. He invited me to his apartment which I readily accepted. It was then that I realized I was luckier than my classmates. The circumstances had affirmed my belief that God is Kind. After giving me the horrific experience, He rewarded me with loads of wonderful outcome: the free board and lodging, the free laundry services by my friend’s mother, and the travel guide as I didn’t know how to move around.

After the exam I went home to wait for the result and at the same time sent many application letters here and there. I was restless all the time being jobless. To be jobless amidst high expectations from your friends and family, coupled with your high qualification is a torture in the mind. Nonetheless, I was hopeful. At any rate it was still too early in the game and it was superbly nice and elating, people started calling me Engineer. It was an intrinsic success beyond imagination.

At this stage of my life, funny as it was, I could not still forget my Very Special Friend. However, this time I no longer felt challenged but grateful from the bottom of my heart because I’ve partially understood my life’s puzzle. That is, in growing up, you can reach the impossible stars of your dream provided you challenge yourself and ask God’s assistance.  If you are challenged you strive for the best and God will do the rest.

Chapter 3

My Love–Life

IT CAN BE RECALLED THAT MY “LOVE–LIFE” in the early days was both funny and dreary.  By “love–life” I am referring to my relationship towards the opposite sex.  In the elementary grades, there was nothing at all, except fantasies and unspoken admiration.  From graduation in the elementary until high school, there were crushes and playful courtships but nothing affectionate at all. In college, my life was also “loveless” – meaning I haven’t had any girlfriend at all.  Certainly, there were crushes too but they were set-aside for fear of being distracted from my studies.  Anyway, I thought my time has not come. I thought that someday I will meet someone. But then if there will be none, I’ll be perfectly happy accepting God’s Plan.

At the time when I was certain to graduate, that was about three months before schedule, I courted a very young lady who was then at her first year.  She was the Muse of our provincial student organization where I was the President.  The two of us however, were heedless to the wide difference in our age and educational qualification.  But the truth was that I had no serious intention.  She was the only best choice suitable at the moment.  Moreover, all the graduating ladies had already their duo… Then the next three months whizzed by, surprisingly unnoticed and graduation time came.  And I didn’t see nor hear from her anymore.

It was already when I was teaching that the lady kept on writing me expressing her love.  It was very funny that at last I had a sweetheart that could have been but is no longer sensible, as she was very far away.  It was also ludicrous because I really didn’t have any genuine feeling towards her.  However, as a gentleman I answered all her letters and pretended I missed her too.  That was bad.  I was dishonest.  But that was the only gentleman’s reaction I could think of without hurting her.

My first work assignment was a secondary school teacher in Biliran Rural High School (BRHS) in Biliran, Leyte.  (Biliran is an island province, 123 kilometers from Tacloban City.  It was formerly a sub-province of Leyte until it was converted into a province in 1992).  BRHS is located at the boundary of the town proper at the western part, serving as the peripheral area at the sea shore.  It’s just fifty meters away from the center of the town proper.  People popularly called it High School.  Its teachers had close coordination with the teachers of the nearby Central Elementary School – especially the unmarried ones.  So, during the week-long Future Farmers’ Convention held at the High School, many teachers from the Central School were present.  My first day of service coincided with the opening of the convention where I acted as the photographer.  Hence, the first impression of the teachers and even the students was, I was a photographer.  They were embarrassed to learn I was a teacher.

I haven’t the faintest idea I would meet my “love-life” in Biliran.  Thus, I was caught unaware of how soon I came face-to-face with her… The first time I was introduced to Miss Carmen P. Pacatang was about a couple of weeks after my arrival in Biliran.  It was when we were paired to practice in a folkdance to be presented during a cultural night for teachers. Seeing her for the first time made my heart pumped irregularly faster.  I felt nervous and uncomfortable.  It was uncharacteristic of me in front of a lady. I couldn’t get my eyes off from her.  There was something about her that drew me to her like a magnet.  When I touched her hands and hips to dance, my hands slightly shook and felt ice.  So, I requested that someone has to take my place with an alibi that I do not know how to dance.  Which was very true, but there was a dubious reason to it.  But she said; “It’s okay, I’ll teach you how…” And into the night after the practice, I said; “Oh my God, am head over heels over that woman.”

It is safe to say that it was love at first sight. I was struck by the power of love at that most unexpected time. It was something on the spur of the moment. She wasn’t excessively stunning but indeed she was charming and appealing - one you couldn’t resist looking back.  In any language, Carmen is the type of woman who would irresistibly catch my attention. … I had lots of specific reasons to feel in love with her. Superficially, I was attracted to her physical loveliness; her smooth skin, sensuous lips, dreamy eyes, a cascading hair just above the shoulders, smiling face, and a luxurious body rich with curves built in an average Filipina height. But consciously, I was fascinated by the simplicity and humbleness the way she carried herself. I was also captivated by her sense of dignity and manners. Thus, I made it obvious in my actuations that I have some deep feelings towards her other than just mere friendship. I always found reasons to get near her in every opportunity I had.

Especially in her unguarded moments, I loved to hear her voice and to see her smile. It made her sparkle more with warmth that only me could ever understand. Her talks were unconsciously down to earth real. No fallacy whatsoever.  

It did not take long I noticed Carmen had excellent reputation in Biliran. I use Carmen to make reference but Myn when calling her. People have high regards on her because of that reputation. I noted too that she was an obedient daughter and very respectful to elders. She was very polite and courteous to everybody; young or old and professional or not – regardless of status… She was also active in community programs and social affairs. I frequently observed her attending Holy Mass on Sundays and even Wednesdays, devotion I like best in a person. Thus, I felt elated every time I was with her. It was enticingly fun and addictive; something I could easily get used to… I need this woman, I decided in my thoughts. That was the time that I begun to rationalize that maybe there’s no harm in trying.

But the problem was Carmen had many suitors. Many of them were stunningly good looking. Some of them were holding high positions in the government. There were others who belong to prominent families and had high social standing. There were teachers, an Engineer, a military man, and even a politician. My greatest rival was a teacher who had been her childhood avid suitor. Thus, in many ways I was the underdog. But bit by bit I build up my courage, telling myself that it would be one of my biggest mistakes in life if I would fail to tell her what I felt about her. For that reason, I found myself competing. I thought that I wouldn’t win if I would be afraid of losing.

In the end I became not intimidated, despite the fact that I was a Nobody. I was hoping against hope. I won’t easily give up with true love as a reason… Then, I found myself lucky or whatever it was. Maybe I had some qualities more interesting than the rest. Or maybe I simply exemplified sincerity that she trusted me rather than someone else. I did not know what her reason was; but to my utter delight she said, “Yes.” At first I thought she was joking. I even doubted what I heard. So I asked her; “Are you sure?” When she repeated the word, it was almost inaudible. I interpreted it that she was uncertain… But as the days rolled by, I have proven that she meant what she said. Thus, Carmen became my sweetheart. And I felt the greatest love and happiness of all.

Even if my courtship was very brief, the truth was I passed through the hole of a needle… There was too much elbowing in the close competition. Other suitors were very aggressive and persuasive. But I won. Hence, after the hard fight and an arduous struggle, the result was really rewarding. I couldn’t help but feel proud of how lucky I am. In life it is my belief that being lucky is better than just good. But it is much better if you are already good and at the same time you get lucky.

The truth is that I considered Carmen as my first love. She is the woman who first taught me how to feel in love. I couldn’t remember when I’d ever felt this strongly about any woman… Thus, with Carmen already as my sweetheart, I felt all the joys there was in the world. I felt she had become my obsession in life. It was the first time I had ever experienced such feeling of falling in love to a woman. In my dreams I saw her face smiling. In the sounds of the sea breeze I heard her calling my name. It was quite unusual that I could not explain. And so, it was like believing that love is really a many splendor thing.

In a very short while, I immediately noted that Carmen was very conservative; almost like what I’ve read about Maria Clara, the Filipina replica of modesty. She was warm in my presence but there was an unspoken rule of “no holding hands” or “no hands on my shoulders.” Be that as it may, I respected and accepted the condition. What difference does it make, she was already my sweetheart. There was no need to show our affection. It could be seen in our eyes and in our body language. We stayed close together during social and special occasions; like fiestas, birthdays and school functions. On week-ends we would be in her school room doing some art works and talking on just anything we can think of under the heat of the sun. Evidently, the vibrant between us existed. It was natural and relentless as addictive as it may have been. Sooner than later, I found out that I can’t anymore get her out of my system.  

My great advantage over Carmen’s other suitors was the sympathetic support I got from her relatives and friends. In the later days she would even kid that even the dogs won’t bark at me showing their support too. Yes, I had their sympathy to the extent of helping me out in any way possible, sometimes making me appear even much better than what really I am. Her close friends would devise some make-believe strategies to make our contact continue burning. On some occasions her close friends would give her roses pretending they were mine. Or others would simply extend my greetings when in truth I hadn’t had. And to inspire me back, her co-teacher who was my neighbor would pass the words of regards from her. Her aunts who were her co-teachers would reprimand her for entertaining other suitors. In other words, as if they were purely matching us together. Therefore, I have admitted that without that support from her friends and relatives, I would have not won her heart in a short period of time. Or maybe I wouldn’t have at all. So, the lesson I learned was in courtship, getting to know the people close to the woman of your interest will ameliorate your winning prospect.  

There were lots of things we’d got to adjust and workout together. Her other suitors who could not be prevented to continue courting her was one… Naturally, it was unethical for her not to give them due courtesy. She had to face them nicely in a manner of a well-mannered person. And that was my problem because I would be unreasonably jealous. I couldn’t also explain my problem to her thinking that it would just be my shame. Why would I be jealous? Really, I still don’t have the right, and the other man has all the rights… Then, her going to parties without my permission was another. But, why would she get my permission if she would feel it isn’t necessary simply because we’re not yet tied-up? Or, how could she do it when she had no material time to say the least, especially during unexpected time? I felt lousy thinking about these unnecessary questions. But a jealous person does not see reasons.

Carmen was really worth loving. So, I made a vow to myself not to court   anymore another woman as long as she is staying with me. But without thinking, I broke that vow. I hated myself. Honestly, I didn’t really know why I did it. I wasn’t conscious of it. Was it because I just wanted to appease one who likes me? Was it due to a simple physical attraction to someone? Was it because by doing so meant more challenges to prove? Or was I just looking for trouble? But never did I have a chance to answer these questions somehow. At that time I was already muddled and unable to empathize what was right from wrong. Surreptitiously, I enjoyed the fun of courting other women. It was bad enough no one had advised me to the contrary. I learned later on that to be a person with decorum, courtship should be one at a time. That would be true to both sexes. Of course Carmen didn’t appreciate the situation. But instead of her anger or even displeasure to dominate, I would get understanding and forgiveness before I could ask the same. Believe it or not, she received it as a challenge, which made me admire her all the more. Hence our relationship stood stronger.

The early girlhood of Carmen was full of memories of her grandmothers. Her grandmother on her mother’s side, Marcela was loving, caring and nurturing. When Carmen would need a new dress, her grandmother was her easy recourse. Whenever she would have any problem she would usually run to her grandmother. She was also even closer to her grandmother of her father’s side, Baldomera. The grandmother was over-protective and a good provider to Carmen. She would secretly give her money to augment her limited school allowance. Carmen’s family stayed in their ancestral home together with her father’s mother.

The ancestral home of Carmen’s family was just a few minutes walk to the town proper. It is located in Sitio Lumbia, Barangay San Roque in the town of Biliran, Province of Biliran. It’s a peaceful and refreshing place; a place where no one would think about environmental pollution. It is a locale of natural beauty: the breathtaking mountains above, the vast and misty mangrove down below and the deep blue sea yonder. Her original house was small that sat on a slightly rolling wide landscape full of fruit-bearing guava trees intercropped with coconut trees. In the early days, they had no domestic water system, but they had a clean shallow well. They had no electricity that most often they used kerosene lump in the evening. Then, by-and-by these facilities were constructed by the government and a provincial road traversed in front of their house… and a new big two-storey residential building was built.

She spent her high school in Biliran Rural High School. She was bright and so she was one of those on top of the class. She was popular because of her good academic performance coupled with her appealing personality. She exceedingly excelled in Physics, Algebra and Geometry. Moreover, she had an inspiration: a classmate; bright and handsome suitor that became her first boyfriend. So being intelligent and inspired as she was, she graduated first honorable mention in 1963.

If Carmen had only her way, she would have taken up Civil Engineering, mathematics being her cliché. However, her father wouldn’t yield other than Education with his meager income as the primordial reason. Of course her family can support her study but with a big family and the incoming schooling of her brothers and sisters, she had no other recourse but to give up her ambition… At first it was against her will. But as the days rolled by she found herself enjoying the course.

In college she was active in the Editorial Board of the school’s publication. She was more inclined to the literary writing. In 1967 Carmen obtained her Bachelor’s degree in Education  at  the  Leyte Normal  School,  now  Leyte  Normal University. She had a good academic preparation that when ranked with those in the list of applicants in her Division, she was at the top. Hence, getting employed did not bother her at all. A teaching job was waiting for her.

I deeply admired Carmen’s family. Her father, Mauricio Fernandez Pacatang, was a government employee while her mother, Adela Napalit Pa-anod, was a housewife. Mauricio had only finished high school. But he was more than a college graduate. His ancestors were from Bohol and Cebu. The bloodline in Bohol is wealthy: lawyers, physicians, businessmen and politicians. But Mauricio’s father selected to be poor. He stowed away from home after his mother was unfairly shared with the family’s inheritance being a woman and only good for the house.

Utmost, Carmen’s father was very industrious and intelligent. Notwithstanding his deficiency in educational attainment, he became the Regional Cashier of the Department of Public Works in Region 7. 

Adela’s parents could have afforded to send her to college. Her parents had adequate in life from their copra and rice production. But she lacked the interest of schooling and married early. As a wife, she was submissive, obedient, and even pliant. As a mother, she is very devoted and accommodating. She is calm even when confronted with serious problems.

It is my principle in life that if ever I court a woman, I should know at least her most fundamental historical background to be sure that I am joining a family of reputable lineage, should that courtship would lead to marriage.   

Despite my desire to stay in Biliran because of Carmen, I was forced to leave the place.  I was terminated from my work effective December 22, 1969. The official reason was I lacked some education subjects required for teaching that the School Administrator decided not to renew my temporary appointment. The true reason was that an influential politician was recommending a local applicant to take my place. I was convinced however, that it was the second reason that caused my termination. The school should have worked for my retention – I being the only Engineer in the teaching force and a board placer at that.  Worse was that; the local applicant was not even qualified for lack of Civil Service eligibility.  But politicians play dirty tricks.  Yes, early in my life I learned how dirty politicians play dirty works.        

After long-week tearful good-byes, I was ready to leave. But my actual leaving wasn’t planned to be dramatic. It was only circumstantial that it was during the New Year’s Day, and the Christmas spell was in the air. On the last day of 1969, there was an evening social community dance to last ‘til sunrise. During the night I was with Carmen. But we could not concentrate on the festive affair. We just kept on walking around the town proper, aimlessly and talking about our problems and what could possibly be done. Then we sat for a while beside the church and made our promises again to one another. And under that rare utter moment of despair we burst into tears together. We looked very foolish under the intoxicating atmosphere, so we agreed we better go back to the dance hall and try to enjoy… But it didn’t help.

When I actually departed 4:00AM on that New Year’s Day, my mind and my eyes were both blurred. I was sad… furious… frustrated… confused…  and challenged… yes, challenged.  On my way as if the sound of the pump boat was torturing me, and as if the voices of the people were mocking me…  But I’ve learned this in the past; in times like this, my best remedy was to pray… Then I began to see the brighter side of the situation. At the deepest part of my mind, I saw the light. I realized that it was God’s way of giving me the right opportunity to practice my profession. So I made a resolve to think and behave positively. And to soothe myself I whispered; “I left something valuable in Biliran that I must come back and get it.”

When I was at home, I desperately missed Carmen. In her absence the more I realized how important it seemed to keep her in my life. I felt it would be difficult for me to live without her. But under the prevailing circumstances, I found myself helpless. So I had to give up any melancholic mode and cheerfully wait at home for whatever outcome there might be with my other application letters… I prayed and hoped for the best. That was the only way I could maintain a proper balance of my too many unnecessary anxieties.

Very fortunately and by God’s own design, I was accepted by the National Irrigation Administration with my first office assignment in Palo, Leyte effective February, 1970. From my station I could reached Biliran in about three and a half hours; one and a half hours on a bus and two hours on a pump boat. But the travel was very tiresome and risky. Hence, not all week-ends would I be in Biliran. Anyway, the less physical appearance never impeded our bonding. But of course like many other love relationships, there were ups and downs and misunderstandings here and there that personal visitation would be inevitable. However, for every quarrel we had, our relationship came out stronger. Surprisingly, problems brought us more closely. This was something peculiar in our relationship. Maybe it was the reason why we have survived.

My “love–life” with Carmen was like a drama. It was full of surprises and unprecedented happenings… When we finally decided we tie our knots once and for all, I went home to ask permission from my parents. However, when we were gathered around for dinner, I found myself tongue-tied to discuss it direct to the point. So going around the bushes, I ask them what they would feel if I get married soon. My mother’s answer was; “We suggest you marry one from this place. If you get one from Leyte, then you will get stuck up there for your life.” In response I said in a self-deprecating smile that I was only joking.

After the dinner, my father whispered to me in secret; “Just in case you were not joking, you have to make your own decision. Whatever you think is good, do it.” The following day I went back to Tacloban feeling sure of what would I be doing.

When I went to Biliran to meet Carmen I told her I will be meeting her parents that night… With my close friends from BRHS and some officials of the town to back me up, I made my marriage proposal. But Carmen’s father required the presence of my parents to prove my identity and get their backing. Unfortunately, to me that was quite impossible because of some predicaments at home, foremost were the inconvenience and the expenses. Despite the intercession of the town officials who were his buddy-buddy, her father remained steadfast. Hence, the final outcome of my marriage proposal would depend on my compliance. There was nothing I could do under the circumstances. I thought of asking Carmen we do it without her parents’ approval. Maybe elope. But I realized it would be bad for her. It will ruin her reputation… I was confused. It was disturbing. But I pretended I had no problem. “I am complying”-I told them. But at the back of my mind I accepted the fact that I have a serious problem.  I felt sad things happened the way it did.

As a result of that failed engagement proposal, the following day I felt lousy and exhausted, and was feeling sick. I had a plan to go back to the office the day after next. Then, as if following a well-choreographed play, my best friends from BRHS brought me to a nearby town for an alleged urgent errand. But without my knowing, their main agenda was to bring me to another teacher that I courted on-and-off before. I thought they did it out of sympathy or pity, thinking I was devastated of the last night’s experience. When I met the girl, the more I was confused and couldn’t believe of what she said. In a whisper, she said; “If I will marry you, will you bring your parents to meet mine?”

Then, without thinking what kind of trouble I was into, I responded; “Yes. Certainly I will.” Surprisingly however, when I was looking at her, I was thinking of Carmen. It was stupid. I knew nobody will believe me if I tell them I was confused. So I pretended I was happy by putting up a smile on my face. Thus my friends were glad. They thought they were helping… Then, almost in chorus my friends said: “Thanks Lord, our idea of letting you meet with Aiza came out good. We were really hopeful because as we knew she loves you, but also extremely reluctant because we were unsure of the consequence. What my friends didn’t know was I was certainly in trouble. Aiza is beautiful. I like to see her face and lips. She is slim and charming; quite a lady anyone would be proud of. But what I do not know is her values, attitudes, and characteristics. 

I went back to the office with a troubled mind. I began thinking of the girl and what she said. I couldn’t believe nor understand what had happened. Everything about it was wrong. But as if I had a bad dream… I thought I was becoming out of my mind. How could I promise someone on something I was sure  I was not capable of carrying it out, especially on matters very serious? Was I fooling the girl or myself? I pondered inside intensely.

After a week of contemplation, I realized how foolish of me to easily give up Carmen. I thought that if I give her up, I will be giving up happiness, which mattered to me more than anything else in life.  Thus, I concluded that I needed the help of my parents. So I went home to bring my parents once and for all. They were surprised of my unscheduled visit. I couldn’t tell them my purpose that easily. I waited for the right timing. But to my great dismay, I lost all the courage I could master when I overheard them discussing the maturing bank loan. I had cold feet and kept drinking the “tuba” (coconut wine) to warm me up. My father sensed something, so he said; “What is it really that you would like to say?”

It was then that I got the courage of telling them that I am getting married. Luckily, no one disagreed. I could feel though some maddening silence. Then after a moment that seems eternity, my father said; “It’s high time. Go ahead. You are not getting any younger. Just let us know when.” But imagining how difficult would it be for them to come to Biliran, I lost all the courage of telling them their necessity to meet Carmen’s parents. Thus I went back to Tacloban with mission unaccomplished; I failed without trying.

With my failure to bring my parents, I saw no reason to come to Biliran. As a consequence, Carmen and I remained passive. We met very seldom, but there was no formal separation. As if we simply left everything to whatever future is stored for us. We met sometimes somewhere; either by design or not, and we talked and behaved as if we love each other… But thought: Carmen was still trusting me and in-love.

Then latter, I had assumed we were not meant for each other and had henceforth gone into separate path. I tried to forget the past. I courted other girls and I learned she also entertained other suitors. I thought that the wounds will heal at the proper time. In fact I thought that the passing of time is an effective way of forgetting.  But invariably, it was unbelievable, while courting someone; I would be comparing her with Carmen.  I was becoming confused and baffled everyday all the more.

In retrospect, I came to realize my dealing with the situation was unfair, had no direction and was much disorganized. I could imagine how terribly difficult for me in handling the emotions and the terrifying reality that I am losing the woman I love. I felt guilty and I needed a reprieve desperately. I thought what I did was crazy. Then I began to feel self-pity. I entertained the idea that I was not good enough for Carmen for after all the demand of her father was more than justifiable. So I thought she deserved another better person… I could not help but flinch on the dangerous grounds I travelled. So, in my reverie, I mumbled words asking for forgiveness. But no one will ever hear and understand me. I was talking to myself.

I never thought our lives will cross again. But one day, on a Valentines Day of 1971, I went to Biliran to meet my teacher-friends and to just spend the time. It was a Sunday and there was no one in my place that I can share with the love-day to have a meaningful happening to remember. On my arrival people everywhere I met looked at me suspiciously, with questioning eyes.  As if they didn’t expect my presence. Or as if no one liked I was there.  I felt I was no longer welcomed!

While me and my friends were enjoying; talking, eating and drinking, a close friend suggested we invite Carmen.  I consented to the tricky idea but doubted very much she would come.  But she came because she was bluffed, made to believe it was a birthday party of a daughter of her friend… I could not believe what I was seeing.  I was even uncertain if she isn’t mad I was there.  But I was there in front of her seemingly lost of myself.  She was there too full of questioning eyes, looking aghast.  I was touched and could feel my heart jumping out of its place.  I was puffing inconceivably hard.  A surge of emotions constricted my chest, and for a moment I wasn’t sure I could speak what I wanted to say.  After a moment of infuriating silence, as if recovering from shock, with all honesty, I began talking softly but eagerly; asking for apology and expressing my interest to marry her immediately.  Then finally, she said with a voice so quiet that I had to tilt my head to catch the words; “I didn’t expect you would come.  If that is what you still like, then let’s go and try to talk to Tatay.”  (She was referring to her father.)

On our way to her house I could feel I was a little nervous.  Or maybe I was even more than just a little nervous.  But it was necessary that I should be calmed, so much so that I could sense she was very tense.  Her facial expression showed she was terribly worried of something.  The wrinkles in her forehead showed suppressed emotions.  Her lips were pale of a terrified child.   I tried to ask her what the matter was, and her alibi was; “Sorry. I am tired.” But as she said the words, her voice was quivering and brimming with emotion.

Actually, I doubted of her pretext. I could sense there was something wrong.  But I gave her the benefit of the doubt.  I tried to convince myself that her present state of emotion was simply an anticipation that her father’s reaction would be unlikely favorable. To soothe her, I whispered reassuringly and hopefully; “Don’t worry, everything will come out right…” I didn’t know I created a problem. I found out later that she had already accepted another marriage proposal with the engagement party scheduled that evening.

In front of Carmen’s father both of us were ridiculously incapable of saying anything clear and straight.  However, we were saved by our friend who talked for and in our behalf.  After a brief introduction, I was inexorably caught flat-footed when Carmen’s father said; “When are you getting married?” It was unbelievable and surprising how fast and easy it was.  I was expecting a very rough sailing; maybe reiterating his previous demand, or scolding us, or shouting at me calling me stupid, or even driving me out of the house… I was ready for it. I prepared myself for the worst. But I was wrong this time. Her father was very kind-hearted.  He was even encouragingly helpful; he even suggested on the date.  Thus, Carmen immediately lifted the old calendar hanging in front of her father and encircled April 17.

Chapter 4

My Married Life and My Family

IF I WERE NOT POOR, I might never have gone to Biliran to accept the first job opening.  If I didn’t accept the job, I might never have met Carmen… But I was there and destiny made it so.  I got married to Carmen on April 17, 1971 in Biliran.  I had accepted the power of love; its imperfection and its kindness.  So it was done.  Our wedding day was the beginning of a new chapter of my life; my married life and my family!  

Actually, this story would have been told differently had I didn’t come on that lucky Valentine’s Day. Carmen had accepted another marriage proposal by another long-time suitor with the engagement party scheduled on that particular evening whose parents and relatives were ready and eager to come; she being their favorite choice.  So she aborted it in a rush with very hearty apologies via a mediator and an accomplice. The timing had to be précised.  There could be no room for error; otherwise there would be serious conflict.  Actually, I was innocent about it until my wife confided to me a day after our wedding.  Had I known I might have been confused and thought otherwise. I would haven’t have come to Biliran at all, e.g. to avoid the problem of many people.  Anyway, I said to myself loudly: “What a story to tell?”

Our wedding day was not just any day in Biliran.  It was an event and the talk of the town.  Biliran is just a small town that everybody knows everybody. The original plan was actually a triple wedding for me and for my two former co-teachers.  As best friends for our lifetime, no one will agree to get married ahead or behind over the other.  But old people who believed in bad omen insisted otherwise.  Thus, a compromise was made.  In the morning one best friend was married.  His bride was the best friend of my bride to be. Early in the afternoon of the same day, another best friend had exchanged marriage vow to another friend.  In the late afternoon was mine.

During my wedding ceremony, I was somewhat absent-minded.  My mind was near yet so far away.  I was thinking of my bride that had been too understanding, of my new in-laws who had been very helpful, of my good friends from BRHS who for all honesty without them I would have not gone this far, of my parents and relatives who have been deprived of the occasion, of my visitors and God-parents who came down from the mainland to witness my wedding, of the priest in front of us who said he was very glad at last we will be married, and most of all of that passenger who said that Biliran is a place of no return.  Thus, I couldn’t concentrate, my mind was flying high. But when the priest loudly announced; “Now the bridegroom may kiss the bride”, it was then that I came down to earth.  I found myself standing face-to-face with my new wife.

I couldn’t help but be terribly ashamed of how the wedding reception was planned and managed.  But I have to swallow harshly my pride because it was the only possible way.  It was my in-laws who were behind the plan and implementation; realizing I wasn’t capable of doing it. The reception was held at their residence and was managed by them. I suggested to Carmen that we hire some helps, but she assured me that her relatives were already well-organized for all the works needed.  Thus, it was very unorthodox and indeed nonconformist to the tradition. The tradition is: “All the responsibilities appertaining to a marriage ceremony belong to the family of the bridegroom to be.” But I was alone.  My in-laws have accepted the reality that no one from my side could really come.  So, instead of being miserably wanting on something impossible at the moment, I bowed my head and made a silent vow to make myself the best son-in-law they would ever have.  I swallowed my pride but it was the bitter part of the story.  I think that despite humility being a virtue, all humble persons have pride; otherwise there will be no self-esteem.

After the wedding, I overheard one of Carmen’s friends said; “The drama is over…” I pondered over the remark and silently said to myself; “Oh yes. It’s a good drama with a happy ending!” But instead, I said loudly with a grin; “Thanks for the help.” Then I scampered to join with her uncles, brothers, cousins and friends drinking tuba in the backyard under a wide mandarin tree. I thought that it’s high time to start mixing, after all we are now a family.

In the early days of our married life there existed a recurring problem. We were separated by a distance that we only met during week-ends when adjustment was still crucial. Carmen stayed in Biliran with her parents while I stayed in the office in Tacloban City. Virtually, it was difficult for us newly married couple to be living separately. We thought it will be harder especially when we’ll have a child. But we’ve got to live with our predicament. We knew that that will be the case. So we agreed that we wait until we’ll have a child and cross the bridge when we are there.

There were times that I wondered what kind of father figure I’ll make, what kind of mistakes I’ll make… I don’t have to be like my father nor anyone else. I can’t use a role-model. I have to be me. The kind of fatherhood I knew would be outmoded by the time I’ll have kids of my own.  I thought lengthily…

The first time I brought Carmen to Bohol to meet my parents and the rest of my clan was one week after our wedding. I was worried thinking of the many inconveniences she would encounter. First, there would be a hike from the provincial road to my place on a slippery and narrow pathway over a three-kilometer distance. Then there is that house devoid of the amenities to make her stay comfortable. I’d explained the situation to her before but she appeared not concerned at all.  I didn’t know if she had an idea I had a very poor family.  But to my satisfaction upon our arrival, she had proven to be a courteous daughter-in-law with a warm heart that fascinated my family. My mother became easily fond of her, when in fact it was my mother I was most concerned with because in the first place she wanted me to marry a Boholana. 

Carmen’s pregnancy was one of the most awaited times. Having children was our ultimate reason why we got married.  So we couldn’t say how happy we were when the first child came.  Mailyne was born on April 20, 1972.  We called her Mai.  The baby was very sweet, very lovable and a healthy one.  She was a mixture of her father and mother.  Having an infant for the first time was truly a life-altering experience.  Taking care of Mai who was awake when we were supposed to be asleep was one of the most difficult challenges in our early parenthood.  Of course we had to pay attention on many things like; the correct measures of milk, the immunizations, the changing of diapers and a many hundreds more… When she was six months old we brought her to Bohol.  For the first time in our life we rode on an airplane to Cebu.  The trip was indeed enjoyable… But my parents enjoyed the most.

Then, Marites  was born on May 28, 1973.  We called her Tetet. She was a very crying baby.  Her birth wasn’t an ordinary procedure; there was even a threat of Cesarean delivery.  But as if by miracle, the baby was born normally, although inverted.  She was born two months premature, was very tiny and looked fragile that she had to be in an incubator for two months. The Nurses, sensing maybe of some danger when she was taken out from the incubator, advised us to have her emergency baptism.  We did and called her Sussie.  But with our prayers and tireless efforts, in the end she was absolutely perfect. She was cute. In her, her father’s feature was more dominant than recessive. When she was six months old we also brought her to Bohol together with Mai.  It was a very tiresome job with all the things needed for the babies.  But my parents were very glad.

Up to this point my family was still staying in Biliran.  The travel to Biliran was not always safe in those days.  What was risky was the pump boat ride from Carigara to the Island when the sea would be turbulent.  There was a time that I had experienced this danger.  The boat almost capsized midway of the travel that I thought it was my end. While the boat was struggling against the gigantic and angry waves, as if I had given up hope and just sat on the boat’s deck waiting for what would eventually happen.  The passengers were already in panicky that everything around was in pandemonium. I prayed very hard and thought that Señor San Nepumoseno, the Patron Saint of Biliran will save us because of my family.  Then, all of a sudden as if by some miracle the sea went completely still.  When I arrived at Carmen’s place very late than the schedule, I was exhausted and look very pale because of the trauma and the hunger.  I told her I might no longer see her every week-end after relating the incident… But every week-end I would find myself riding on the same boat all over again …and again going to Biliran.

Our being separated became more and more a major concern, especially in the task of child-rearing.  There was even a hurting experience when one time my eldest child who was then one year old couldn’t even recognize me after a couple of weeks absence.  So, with the future of the family as the compelling reason, Carmen resigned from teaching in 1974 in spite of the prospects of promotion.  It was very difficult for Carmen to leave a stable and enjoyable job.  She became unemployed and had tasted the bitterness of boredom.  But she was hopeful.  And that is my wife; very courageous, only very few people can beat… Thus, the family was established in Tacloban City.  We stayed in an apartment with very poor ventilation and inadequate drainage.  It was dismally unfit for the family.  But we were happy being together… Carmen’s resignation from teaching was a good risk-taking though.  It was a blessing-in-disguise.  Aside from having successfully united her family, she was opened to many opportunities.  If she did not resign she would have not travelled abroad or finished her post graduate studies.  But above all, she would have not worked out in maintaining a close family tie, worthy of emulation.

It was in June 1974 that the family moved to our new home in a housing subdivision.  The house was a duplex that it was very small.  But we were very happy and grateful as it was our own.  Besides, its environment is friendly, refreshing and safe to the children.  We have now a small playground around the house, and even a wide road with vehicle seldom passing, where the children can play.  As far as I am concerned, I would always allow my children to play as much as they like.  As my wife would say; let them play, they would never be children forever.

Then, Alan was born on December 3, 1974. He was very fond of his feeding bottle.  He would kick vigorously, pound his hands mightily and cry loudly when hungry. He was big, tall, very healthy, and good-looking. As a child he was very likable. Ladies in the neighborhood loved to tow him along for strolls; as if telling everyone; he is my son… When he was one year old we brought him to Bohol together with Mai and Tetet. It was in this trip that the kids had played with my father… They enjoyed bathing in the river and running in the farm.

Then Maridel was born on January 16, 1977. We called her Dedyl. She was also cute… She wasn’t a crying baby. She was very healthy and super active. But because travelling was extremely difficult with the four children still very young, we have decided to suspend our annual vacation to Bohol.

With four children, there was a need for us to transfer to a little larger house.  So, we acquired another housing unit, a single detach which we occupied on September 9, 1978.  Our happiness lifts no bounds with our new bigger house… In the days that followed, I’ve discovered that there is no better substitute for a family but to stay together.  I learned too that it was definitely rewarding watching the kids grow and seeing all the changes they go through on a daily basis.

By the way, it was me who suggested the names of all our children. I got Mai’s name from a Chinese list of names. I wanted to pronounce it as “Meh-len,” but my in-laws would pronounce it as “My-len”. They being majority, they won… I also got the name of Tetet from a very popular Filipina movie actress named “Maritess Revilla,” removing one letter “s” to maintain the number of letters to “7” being my lucky number… Then Alan’s name was coined after the name of a popular American movie actor, “Alain Delon” removing the letter “i” to maintain “4” letters it being also my other lucky number… Then Dedyl’s name was adopted from the name of a very popular Filipina actress in a television movie series, “John and Marsha.”  Her script name was Maria-Delia…  It was intentional that all the girls’ name started with letter “M” to relate to their mother’s nickname, “Myn.”  I also selected letter “A” as the initial of the name of our son to at least make a semblance of my initial.  My friends suggested that Alan be my junior. But I vehemently disagreed by saying; “Oh please, don’t do that…” I was thinking my name will be out of fashion before my son will grow.

Carmen is a very creative person.  Thus, she found a common reason why she is claiming her children are all special.  She said: “Mailyne is special being the eldest; Marites is special as she is a premature, Alan is special being the only son, and Maridel is special too being the youngest.”  I think a mother has always a reason to show her love to her children.  No one can replace the mother’s role in the life of her children. The outlook that the child will form towards life depends a lot on the mother, and on the father too!

Meanwhile, Carmen had finally found a permanent employment at the local government of Tacloban City effective December 3, 1977. It was really her lucky day. It was indeed a big deal for the family.  First, it was a relief to her boredom.  Second, she would earn a living to help support her children.  Third and most importantly, she would grow professionally and put her knowledge into use.  By coincidence, that day was also during the third birthday of her only son, Alan that the family was merrily celebrating. So, I thought that there is always a reason to be happy.  Just look around and you will find some easily.

When Alan was three years old, only the two of us went to Bohol again.  I didn’t expect he was that responsible at his age.  While we were waiting for the boat to depart in Ormoc, I went into a long doze on our cot because I was really “dog tired.”  When I woke up I found him setting on the edge hugging tightly our baggage.  I almost cried when he said; “I was keeping it because there are many people around who might steal them.” When Alan was in college I used to bring him to Bohol on several occasions together with Carmen. It was by a matter of affordability and opportunity as he studied in Cebu City, just few hours ride to Bohol.  We couldn’t afford to bring the other kids too often because of the above reasons.

Then, when Dedyl was three years old the entire family went to Bohol to see my father who was then hospitalized.  Alan was only five years old, Tetet was six and Mai was seven.  While the purpose of the trip was not for merry-making, it turned out to be a grand vacation for the children.  The vacation was the best they ever had.  They enjoyed it.  The kids loved to run around the bushes, slide down the river for a bath, climb up the hill, grab a fruit of star apple, chase the chicken, or  ride on carabao’s back. Seeing my kids like that always brought the memories back again – back to the happy memoirs of the innocent pathways of my own childhood.

If my choice had been made, I could have enrolled the kids in the public school. Of course I knew that private school was the best for them.  But truthfully, I thought that financially I would not be capable of supporting their studies in an expensive private school.  Yet their mother was more courageous.  She enrolled them at the Sacred Heart School, the most expensive school at that time in the City.  She was confident and thought she can manage it.  Actually, I would have committed that grievous mistake if not of the courageous act of my wife.  We realized later on that after all the quality education of our children would be our top priority.  That’s the only valuable inheritance we can leave behind.  We know that with our income it would be impossible to purchase properties for them to inherit.  And so, the four children finished their kindergarten, elementary, and high school at the Sacred Heart School under the management of the Chinese priests.  Thus, the kids got good educational foundation, not to mention their proper religious formation.  We believed then that there is no better foundation for a bright future and a good life than a good education and a love of God.

WHEN THE CHILDREN WERE GROWING UP, they understood their parents had not much financially.  The family income was barely enough to meet the tightened belt, so to say.  Hence, they never asked something like shoes, dress and the like.  They would only wait and wear whatever is available.  They would say “my shoes are already worn out but it’s still okay when not raining.”  That’s how good and understanding they were.  They agreed even to wear school uniforms made/sewn by their parents.

In the younger days of Mailyne, she had already developed the hobbies of writing poems and letters, and reading novels. Despite the demand of her studies, she would manage to lead the rosary before the family goes to bed. She loved music a lot. She called it “sound tripping.” As a child she was reserve and shy but was very reliable and ever ready to perform social functions like flower girl in nuptials and to act as contestant in popularity contest in school… Mailyne played well her role as the eldest. She was very protective and caring – could be depended in watching her younger sisters and brother. Anybody who would try to bully her younger siblings will certainly encounter her fury.

There were funny occasions in the early childhood of Mai that her Mama would easily remember, they being a tickle of the heart. One was when we celebrated her third birthday. We did have a big laugh when Mai said; “I was born April 20 and you were married April 17. It means it took only three days to make me.” It was funny looking at her with troubled face, but nobody dared to laugh. At three years old she was already that analytical. Another occasion was when Mai was in the Nursery. She played the role of the Virgin Mary in their Christmas Day Nativity presentation. She was given a plastic dull to represent Baby Jesus. On their entrance to the stage she just carried the dull as if it were an ordinary toy, swinging back and forth high holding in one hand. Maybe coaching was lacking, or maybe she wasn’t paying attention well, she simply hurled the supposedly Baby Jesus to the improvised manger. It was suppose to be a solemn play but the laughter from the audience couldn’t be avoided. Since the laughter was suppressed, the audience ambiance became funnier all the more. What added to the laughter was when she replaced her veil with a hat making her outfit misfit to the play.

When Mai started her Kindergarten, there was also a laughable situation which her Mama would easily remember. This happened as a result of their first periodical examination. One afternoon when we fetched them at the school gate, she was awfully silent. And upon arrival at home, she cried and vowed never to come back to school. When asked what the matter was, she said the school is punishing her when she hadn’t done anything wrong. “Tomorrow,” she said, “I will be made to stand in front during the flag ceremony because according to my teacher I am outstanding.”  She thought of a penalty rather than a reward.

In the case of Marites, even when she was still young, she had already the hobby of letter-writing to pen pals here and abroad. She already enjoyed making friends. She was a good crowd-mixer, a happy-go-lucky type and had a happy-to-be-alive attitude. But she was very frank in making criticism on anything she doesn’t like. She was outspoken and party-going. One of her good asset is her good sense of humor. She can make people laugh. She was also profusely industrious and was a ready help without being told.  She helped Mama clean the house, prepare the table and even wash the dishes.  That was how good she was as a child.  She too had her experiences acting as flower girl so eager to wear that beautiful pink gown with her Attie Mai.

There were also very memorable occasions in the growing up of Marites that her Mama keeps on recalling as they will make her smile and be proud of her.  One was when she was at the Sacred Heart School.  When Tetet noted that all canteen-users would just leave their empty soft drink bottles on the tables after snack and lunch times,  she decided to collect and surrender them to the canteen operator.  In return she would receive the deposits of all accounted bottles.  With that initiative, she would raise money very useful for her daily needs. Another memorable vigorous display of Tetet’s enterprising innate ability started when she was even at the Kindergarten.  Her Mama was only surprised to see her making so many homeworks of the same subjects under different names.  Her mother found out that these homeworks were made for a pay for Tetet’s rich classmates.  Her Mama would enjoy remembering of the ingenuity of her daughter.

Alan as a child was full-bodied, tall and quite handsome. He was shy.  Although he was shy, he was brave.  Many times he had acted as coin bearer in wedding ceremonies.  However, he would ask to go home before the parties would begin to avoid the guests’ attention, as normally would happen, he being so cute and good-looking in that beautiful costume in Barong Tagalog.  His favorite past time was listening to music. His favorite sports were basketball and martial arts.  He was sufficiently proficient in the use of tsako, a martial arts equipment of the famous actor, Bruce Lee.  He was extraordinarily thrifty.  As a kid, his Mama was very proud of Alan exhibiting his ability to manage his very limited daily allowance.  Instead of going to the canteen to take his snacks, he would run outside the school and eat turon. This is made of banana, which was very cheap but rather better than the junk food.  Instead of drinking soft drinks, he would drink ice water which was much better being free of additives.  With this practice, the kid had more than enough savings from his allowance.  Hence, when the family’s budget becomes very tight, his Mama would borrow from him.  Of course his mother had to promise when to pay, otherwise he would hesitate to lend any.

There were also amusing occasions when Alan was still a little boy. He really loved to dance with extreme pride imitating the style of Michael Jackson with the music, “The Thriller.” He was very glitzy with his skills he had acquired on the TV.  He would start hiding at the door and come out so engrossed and animated when the 45-turn-table is played.  When doing the act, he would always insist wearing his navy blue blazer to look like Michael Jackson.

When Alan was in the Kindergarten, he likes to talk in broken English.  Once he said to his Mama, reporting how his Attie Mai treated him;  “My big sister ring all around my ears when you were not around.”  And that would indeed generate laughter, although what he meant was Mai twisted his ears… Then he would say; “Don’t leave me alone in my room, my light was lost and found.”  What he meant was that there was a brown-out but the power had been restored.

When Dedyl was a child, she was lucky she had two elder sisters and a big brother to lend into.  But relying heavily on her elders did not happen as she was an independent young person.  She had a very strong personality.  She loved watching TV. For her favorite TV program she would be insistent despite the prodding of her Attie Mai to study the lessons first before watching the TV.  However, she was good in her studies too.  In fact she garnered academic certificate of award while still in the Sacred Heart. She was the Second Honor when she graduated Kinder One… Dedyl’s Mama had also a time to laugh remembering her early childhood.  Dedyl does not appreciate people coming to the house unannounced, especially when it’s about eating time; be it breakfast, lunch, dinner, or even snack time.  She had a unique behavior like the Westerners.  She could insult a visitor, relatives included when she would say:  “Are you going to eat with us now.  We have no extra plate and there is no other chair for you.” (It is a kid talk, but it is loaded with some sense.)

As the four kids were lovers of music, they had collections of several “long playing records,” especially those sung by their favorite, the Menudo. They would contribute from their allowance just to buy the records… They also loved to sing with the “minus one” using the cassette recorder. They would also sing with the ukulele or guitar with their father accompanying. In their times, there were no state-of-the-art gadgets. In fact there was no internet.

MANY YEARS HAD GONE BY and all of the four siblings have grown up. They have now their own lives to manage.  Their parents’ desire was fulfilled.  All of them are now professionals.  In fact all of them had taken up Masteral, while Dedyl is already a Doctorate. Yes, their diplomas are the only valuable inheritance they can get from their parents.  Their parents have no other assets, except their education. It’s all what they’ve got and it’s all what they can give. It’s very useful; they can use them anytime and in any manner they like.  It’s weightless; they can bring them where ever they go.  It’s up for them however to know how to use them.  No one can ever grab them from them.  No one!  Not even the cruelest and most selfish evil mortal in this world.  But one thing they should remember; they are gifts from heaven.  Thus, they can be more useful with God’s blessings.  Of course they know that usefulness would however greatly depend on one’s perspective.  It’s relative!  It depends…

The family is proud of its success in so far as providing and getting education is concerned.  But the family is more proud of the harmonious relationship that had been installed, which is more precious than anything else.  There is a mutual respect and camaraderie among the siblings and between the parents and children.  We are behaving like true people with the same blood running in our veins and the same flesh glued to our bones… My children when they were young had never had any serious quarrel.  There were very minor ones; like just talking to, telling off, and a little scolding.  But they were very seldom.  Whenever they do, they kneel down in front of the altar to ask forgiveness. When they had grown up, they never argued, or never raised a voice.  They only talked it out and amicably discussed whenever there would be issues.  The younger generally respects the elder; but the latter always listens to the former.  Strong family bonding had been developed among the children.  They have shown in many occasions some important useful values.  Among other things they exhibit positive attitude, independent mindedness and self-discipline. I think it was love and respect that made them so.

Mailyne  completed  her Business Management  degree  at  the  University  of  the  Philippines  and her MBA at the Divine  World  University.  As a person she is still reserve and home-body, God-fearing, respectful, honest and humble.  She still loves listening to music, letter-writing and reading novels.  But she became a Crossword Puzzle wizard. She  had  worked  for  a  while  in the National Irrigation Administration (NIA) until she got married to Armando Corillo (Bons) on December 17, 2000.  She is lucky to have a very kind, resourceful, hardworking and understanding husband, ever ready to help his in-laws as if he is a true son… Mailyne resigned from her work to concentrate on her role as a mother and wife, a noble role that she had self-imposed.  It seems she already lost interest in practicing her profession. Of course the family respected her decision; it’s her life she is making.  I think she did it for the best interest of her family. At present Mai and Bons are operating a small sari-sari store. But Bons is also managing his own rice farm.

Mai and Bons have a son, Arys who was born on September 18, 2001 through Cesarean   due   to an abnormality during the pregnancy.  As a boy, Arys has many exemplary lovable characteristics. He has a smooth skin, a lovely straight flying hair, a smiling eyes and a gracious face built on a slim healthy body.  He can easily be defined as a boy with fetching personality. He is asking a brother or a sister but up to now at the age of seven he still hasn’t any one.

When Arys was born they were still staying with us. I’ve witnessed him grow in the crib. I’ve witnessed him crawl and later on walk.  Thus, when they transferred it was terribly lonely.  But it was good their new house was just within the same subdivision that they would come if the kid would be insistently looking for us.  Our favorite bonding was he  riding  on  my  feet as if they were a seesaw with my knees as the fulcrum while lying down either on the carpet or on our matrimonial bed.  Then to his full delight he would keep on jumping and jumping on the bed shouting in baby talk “ta-na-ta-te,” for which he meant “carne norte,” a brand name of his favorite canned corn beef.

When I was still working, whenever I would be in Cebu City or Manila on official travel, I would never fail to buy something for Arys. Oftentimes I would choose the most expensive ones, because I know he deserves it.

There was an incident where Arys’ Lola Myn (Grandmother) would always remember. When the kid was two years old, he accompanied us to the voting booth during a national election. While we were casting our votes he shouted; “Lola, please vote for Piya Cayetano.” (Cayetano was then a popular senatorial candidate.) Everybody in the room laughed aloud, including the Election Watchers.  The voting was momentarily stopped. I could not help but embrace him, especially when somebody whispered; “What a smart that little boy.” I was also worried somebody would be stupid enough to say; “That’s electioneering.”

Arys  has  also  many talents.  He is good at school and  at   home.   He is both   intelligent and smart. He is still at his elementary grades but had already received certificates of recognition. He love toys so much and has the exceptional ability of  keeping  them  safe  when  no  longer  at  use.   He   is lucky he had so many of them.  It will be already a truck-load if you put them together. He had received toys from his Lolo Gene and Lola Myn when they were still working. He gets them from his parents, from Antie Tetet, Antie Dedyl, and Kuya Alan from Singapore.

Arys has a low appetite level.  He has to be aided to eat more even at seven years old, especially when he is watching television.  His Lolo loves to do the work when he  is  around.  He loves eating  chocolate  and drinking yakult, which his Antie Tetet makes them available always in the refrigerator. He is energetic.  He  is  still  slim  in body appearance,  tall at  his age,  radiant and over-active. He seems to be serious type and sensitive. He wants most often than not, to be a winner in games. That’s why he likes the heroes in the TV Cartoon Network. They are residing now at V and G Housing   Subdivision and Arys  is  studying  at  an expensive private school with good educational performance… Arys would make me happy during his visits. He would ask me to exercise and go out as a normal recourse.  He would even play with me to divert my reading novels and lying down. He claimed that it is a lousy and tiring way of spending my time without diversion. Definitely, Arys is bright for his age, brighter than I expected.

Arys had not met my mother, his great grandmother although he was already three years old when my mother was still alive.  But he was lucky to have met and kissed his great grandparents, the parents of his Lola Myn. He is also doubly lucky he is a favorite of the big family of his father. And definitely, I am very happy and proud I am the Lolo of Arys.

But Arys is lucky he has Antie Tettet who is like her second mother; giving him things not just any Aunt will do.

For My Grandson Arys Joakim

 12-31-09

I cannot describe my own feelings,

When I saw you early one morning,

Delighted how neat you are growing,

So alike what I have been yearning.

I’ve amplified time with you playing,

You and I your Lolo keep bonding,

So that you grow up full of priming,

Ready to wean you when I’m aging.

Time is so fast you now are schooling,

We cannot each other keep seeing,

To God I am intensely praying,

Your safety is what I am pleading.

To keep my desire thus I’m trusting,

You’re so strong to avoid bad learning,

Then you befit the best we’re rearing,

To carry the trait we are holding.

Inside my heart I am not doubting,

You will listen what I am calling,

Keep integrity as our marking,

And the family will keep shining.

Tetet graduated Bachelor of Science in Civil Engineering at Leyte Institute of Technology where she had been a consistent Dean’s Lister. She had also completed the educational requirements for Masters of Engineering in the same institution. She is now a full-pledge Civil Engineer. After graduation she joined with a construction firm in Manila. But when the firm got bankrupt after a year, she went home and later on worked with NIA on a casual basis. Then she got terminated due to lack of project funds as the same was about to close. (I was ashamed I couldn’t protect her as I was cautious of possible complaint which would be administratively serious.) Eventually, with the help of her mother she was accepted  by  the  Department  of  Public  Works  and Highways (DPWH) in Region 8, her present employer. Her indispensable task at the office is project monitoring. No one can do it or no one is willing to do it. It’s meticulous and taxing using computer software.

That is why because of Tetet’s heavy work load, she is sometimes under stress. There would be times when she would arrive home exhausted and feeling bad with the gas pain and migraine. I would always feel bad looking at her like that. Most often than not, I would advise her not to overwork and to make her work more pleasurable rather than being “pressurable.” As always my advice was also never to forget her snacks and take time to relax once in a while.

As a person Tetet is hard-working and very capable. She is also God-fearing:  honest, truthful, respectful, and humble and with a big big heart, especially to the poor and the needy. She could deny herself for the benefit of those who needed a favor. She is generous in her humor and still loves making friends. She loves to play chess, badminton, and table tennis. Occasionally, she would go to disco and sing-along. But when I started getting ill, she had abandoned these  hobbies. After office hours she goes home  immediately  full of fruits and groceries… Any father or mother will have a bonus having a daughter like her.

Tetet’s generosity is exemplified during the month of May on the celebration of “Flores de Mayo”. She would not miss to act as a sponsor in serving the snacks of the children. Then, on her birthdays and Christmas days she would feed the children of the poor families in the nearby neighborhood. She would also assist her Attie Mai in distributing second hand toys to these children. (By the way, distributing second hand toys during Christmas is a project of Mai. Most of these toys were voluntarily given out by Arys.)

Tetet is still single and as such she is a big help to the family. She gives me special attention: buying and reminding the medicine for the maintenance of my diabetes, massaging my arthritis, monitoring my sugar level with a glucometer, checking my exercise schedule, reminding my food intake, gives me the full use of her Laptop, rents and buys novels for me and many more.  I do  not wish to trouble her that much, but she would insist doing them all. Anyway, to be honest, I might find too difficult for me without her help.

Tetet is extremely and exceptionally helpful… She goes her way out to help her Attie Mai and looks after Arys. She buys children books and toys for Arys, her nephew. She reserves Arys’ favorite food and snacks in the refrigerator just in case the boy comes around to watch TV with Lolo and plays with Lola. She is also the favorite of Adrian Kyle and Adriel Kirby, the sons of Alan. When the kids were left at their Lola Carmen in 2008, when their mother Maricris was still looking for employment in Singapore with husband Alan; Marites with willing arms voluntarily acted the role of a mother of Kyle and Kirby. Believe it or not, almost every day she bought toys for the kids they called “surprise.”

Alan graduated Bachelor of Science in Civil Engineering in San Carlos University in Cebu City where he had been acclaimed the “King of Plates.”  He is a full-pledge Civil Engineer after passing the board exam. He also graduated Masters of Engineering at the Leyte  Institute  of  Technology  in  Tacloban  City  while  still  working   at   the  National  Irrigation Administration. for about four years. When his employment with NIA ended after four years because of the co-terminus nature of his appointment, he tried construction work on a private capacity but his income was very unreliable resulting to a financial crisis.

Meanwhile, Alan got married to Maricris Enrile. They had two sons in one year. Kyle was born on February 3, 2004, while Kirby was born on the same year on December 12. This made the financial problem more serious, especially that his wife was no help at all being also unemployed. He tried construction work. He borrowed a contractor’s license from a friend using my lump sum retirement money. But we failed.

When Alan’s financial condition became unbearable, he decided to go abroad on March 2007. He went to Singapore with a position in a large construction firm.  It was very difficult with his family left behind, especially that his children were still very young. Going abroad was the only solution. His wife was jobless after having been resigned from work in Manila because of the marriage. There was no immediate and sure employment for him. So, difficult as it was he had that only alternative, to sell his properties for his travel expenses and ask the help of his sisters and his Mama and other family members… It was very difficult for everybody. We all cried but not only of sadness but of happiness too that Alan was strong and lucky for saving his family. At that time my depression was already very serious, I felt helpless, and I didn’t know what to do… Earlier before Alan left, I was confined in the hospital two times: My lung disease had recurred, I had a swollen prostate, the control of my blood sugar had become a problem, and I was terribly depressed in the end. But God is good. I survived.

It was unbearable to Alan to be separated from his family. After a couple of months, he decided his family should follow him.  That was in May 2007 and Kyle was then about three years and Kirby was two. It was incredibly difficult for their mother, Maricris making the trip from Cebu to Singapore as Tetet and party who accompanied them had to stay behind in the Airport of Mactan, Cebu. Alan had to wait for them in Singapore as he couldn’t get a leave of absence from work. He was supervising a high rise construction which was well under way. What I like and respect in Alan most is his courage and tact.

Meanwhile, Maricris was able to get a job. But there was nobody to take care of the kids who at that time were studying in the Day-Care school. So, a “watch-a-baby” agency took cared of Kyle and Kiboy both in and out of school from 7:00 AM to 7:00 PM.  Alan  had to bring the kids early morning to the agency and fetch them at seven in the evening after office hours. It was terribly bad for the kids, with no one they know in an unfamiliar  place, with people they cannot communicate with when hungry, thirsty or when they need to pee. So, Maricris resigned from work and brought back the kids to Tacloban on April, 2008, wishing to look for a house helper. But after a month, she left back for Singapore without the knowledge of the children, to avoid the heartaches of departing. Kyle who was now four years old did not agree with what his mother had done.  He would not talk to her in the phone after that.  His young mind cannot understand. He would not listen even if told that their parents will get them once enrolment time starts in Singapore.

With the instruction of Alan, Tetet enrolled Kyle and Kirby together in a private school at Kinder I. But Kyle in the very beginning did not like the school. He would cry when persuaded to attend classes. Her Antie Tetet was always their ever consoling that at the end of the day he would have a “surprise.” But Kyle had many alibis; school is not good as Singapore, there is a bully big boy, teaching method is boring, and so on and so forth.  The alibis were endless. But Kirby on one hand was enjoying it. He would even help in explaining to his Kuya Kyle that it’s all right. In the end, Tetet acceded to the decision that the kids will just stop schooling and resume the same in Singapore once their parents took them back. I wish I was around with them in school to help…

Meanwhile, Carmen and Tetet had the role of mothering: giving milk; giving the kids bath, clothes, medicines, vitamins, and you name it… Every afternoon Kyle and Kirby would watch for the arrival of Antie Tetet and Antie Dydel … The kids loved to visit or see their Kuya Arys and Antie Mai.  Kyle and  Kirby feel safe with Kuya Arys around, as the former assures them against bullies… On week-ends  the  family  would  bring  the  kids  to downtown for snacks, meals, games or to buy toys and play games. And their Kuya Bons, Arys’ father would latter on bring them to the beach. These and all would form in their memoranbilia… I refused to join with them because of my foolish depression.

Kyle is very handsome with full big body built, fair smooth  skin,  shinny  straight  flowing  hair,  and small beautiful eyes. Kirby’s size is average. He has beautiful round smiling eyes,  curly  smooth  flowing hair,  and soft skin. My family said Kirby looks like me. I think it is almost true. But I am quite sure he is better looking than I am. Kyle had a very good appetite, but he chooses his food and snacks.  He does not mind wearing anything at home.  He would wear old and rugged t-shirts of his aunts and grandparents, which were naturally over-sized to him. But Kirby is another story. His appetite is not very good. You have to persuade  him and help him eat. He does not wear clothes not his or his Kuya Kyle or Kuya Arys. He would be angry if you will try to influence him. I am very happy and proud I happen to be the Lolo of Kyle and Kirby. But conversely, I could have made the kids happier during their stay with us if only not of my sickness.

After about a year of staying with us, on December 2008, Kyle and Kirby had to go back to Singapore. They would not go without their Antie Tetet. So, Tetet had to  go with them and stay in Singapore for a week and make a deal to be back soon just so she will be allowed to go home. That was the arrangement which the kids agreed.

In the morning before they left that day, Kyle was very gloomy. He just sat at my side in the bed without a word. But Kirby was just jolly. Maybe he still didn’t understand the situation being very young. Or maybe he just wanted his departure to be happy. But in my case I cried very hard but tried to be discreet for the benefit of everybody, especially the kids.  It just so happen that I am a very sensitive and emotional person. I really hate myself for being so. In fact it’s a shame. Thanks Carmen was stronger than me, and so it appeared. Or maybe she was only suppressing her tears. But I know it was more difficult for her after those bonding they made. But it was too selfish for me to have that feeling considering all things at hand. I know everybody in the family was emotionally upset. But I knew too well that the most normal and best way to happen was for the kids to stay with their parents… So, they departed and still I cannot understand myself, I was still crying even hours after they had left… Then I wondered when and if I can hug them again and say; “I LOVE YOU. PLEASE TAKE CARE AND DON’T FORGET TO PRAY ALWAYS.”

Carmen had a very pleasant memories on Kyle’s childhood, especially when it is Christmas. In December 2008 when the kids were with us in the house at V and G and Christmas day was already fast approaching, Kyle noted that his Lola had not put up any Christmas tree. With his innocence he said; “Lola, you aren’t putting up a Christmas tree because we are still here?” Carmen was caught by surprise that she couldn’t answer him properly. So, she just said; “Oh well, we will do it now.” But the question, according to her, puzzled her that she had to discuss it with me. She said maybe the kid implied something matured enough for his age. Maybe he wanted to say; “It’s all right we won’t destroy it.” Or maybe he wanted to say; “Are you already tired of us?” Or maybe the kid just simply wanted to say; “Let’s have it because there’s none in Singapore.”

When their Lola assembled and decorated the recyclable plastic Christmas tree that was bought by Tetet because of the kids’ insinuation, Kyle and Kirby were excited, helped their Lola a lot and never made a mess out of it. They only played with it, rearranged the balls, and moved it from one corner to another, very frequently. I was astounded to take note of their behavior; the habit of changing and rearranging things too often are of their Lola’s, which was too early to appear in the very young kids.

As a child, Kyle would be remembered as very protective to his brother. Whenever his younger brother, Kirby would commit a mistake, he would always show he is protecting the latter at all cost from any reprimand even from his well-adored Antie Tetet. One time Kirby broke a figurine. Upon seeing it, Kyle said; “Don’t worry. I’ll fix it.” Then he said; “I will never appreciate Antie Tetet if she will spank you of what you did…”  He is also a very responsible child. He keeps all their things in their proper place and reminds his Antie Tetet to prepare everything when they would be leaving. He was also courageous. One time when he had a gas pain and fever, he took anything as a cure; like bitter medicines or tasteless tea… I marveled on the circumstances of how too early he had gone matured.

There are also many other things I can’t forget about Kyle and Kirby. I can’t forget the time I sometimes inadequately spent with them and the very wrong rapport I made when I unreasonably scolded them. Maybe my irritable behavior was caused by my health condition; which was hardly an understandable or an excusable alibi to everyone. Not even to my wife… Thus, to make amend, what I did later on was discreetly embrace them and whispered; “am sorry.” But I was surprised in my life when Kirby said with that equally surprised innocent face; “Lolo, why did you say am sorry?” I know Kiboy meant something else. But I was speechless. I was ashamed he behaved more maturely than how I did. So I closed my eyes and prayed that someday they will understand me.

Another unforgettable experience with the kids was when Kyle said; “What are you doing? Why are you always lying down? Can’t you walk anymore?” I didn’t answer him because I was unsure of what to say. So, I just stood up and jogged a little, back and forth in our little sala. The kids shouted and joyfully ran after me. Then Kirby said with that mischievous smiling eyes; “I told you! Lolo can still walk.”  From that time on, the words “I told you” became a byword in the household. And that incident too encouraged me to do my leg stretching once in a while in the morning.

There is another thing that would easily strike my memory. The kids had a little naughty and tricky way to divert my attention because they don’t like the idea me always lying down and reading. Thus, when I will be reclining in the sala seat to read my novels as my leisure, the two of them would creep along my side with a book pretending they are reading too, making incomprehensible sounds that will make everybody laugh.

From Singapore they would text us to remind that I should not be always reading the novels. But they are very tactful in it. The text messages were “I know Lolo is reading right now.” And I would imagine Kyle in front of me with hands on his hips telling me to stop reading.

A Poem for Kyle Adrian and Kirby Adriel

Kyle and Kirby are my beloved grandsons,

They are sons of my only son, Alan;

Gifted, healthy and extremely handsome,

Exuding charisma to where they stand.

Physically, they are almost the same;

Having a gap in months of only ten,

At very young age of two and three, then;

They were left to the care of Lola Myn.

When their parents were in the foreign land,

The kids never did bother anyone,

They watched superman and sometimes we ran,

While also acted like young gentleman.

In so many aspects they are the best,

They are indeed passers of any test,

It is wonderful to mention at least,

Their intelligence quotient leads the rest.

Hence, a food for thought for Kyle and Kirby;

You may grow very successful someday,

With so immense power and wealth maybe,

But please be contented without envy.

If you’re contented of what you will earn,

Under the table you must never learn;

Then, act of greed is easy to discern,

That honesty is really our concern.

The road to righteousness is so bumpy;

But to wickedness is smooth and easy;

Be strong to defy sin with honesty,

It's my "last will" for you Kyle and Kirby.

It

Dedyl had completed her course on Bachelor of Arts in Communication Arts at the University of the Philippines. She had also graduated Masters in Management and completed the academic requirements for the Doctor of Management at the Normal University. She had also attended two years in the Law School at the Doña Remedios Law School. But with the tight schedule at her present employment at the  Department  of Interior  and  Local Government (DILG) in Region 8, she had temporarily set aside her schooling.

Before Dedyl joined DILG, she tried several employers. She had worked for a couple of weeks at the City Hall of Tacloban and stopped. She was accepted at a local TV Station and resigned after another couple of weeks. She realized she had no future in those offices. Then she was accepted as a college English Instructor in a big University in Tacloban but quitted after two semesters. She felt she was underpaid and was exploited. Finally, she got employed by her present employer where she garnered the highest score in the qualifying training for new employees.

As a person, Dedyl is also God-fearing: respectful, honest, trustworthy, sincere, helpful, and humble.  She is straightforward and does not appreciate hullabaloo attitude. She finds music and TV shows pleasurable. She uses them to beat down her problem on insomnia.  She is not too expressive  to  show  her  concern for Arys, Kyle, and Kirby. But she certainly is. She buys them toys, clothes, and brings them to Shakey’s and playgrounds as well.

Dedyl’s work schedule requires her to travel often. But she is enjoying it. Actually, one of her delights is  seeing  places.  She   had   already   visited   the   major   Cities and provincial capitals in Luzon and the Visayas. She is Incharge in the implementation of the Community-Based Monitoring System of the LGUs. So she conducts training for the Implementors in the Region and often acts as resource person. She is good as Masters of Ceremony for all occasions. In fact she had already done it once for an international occasion. But because of too much work load, sometimes she would arrive home looking exhausted. I would only guess she had a migraine. Then I would coax Carmen to advise Dydel to relax when work is stressful. 

In 2009, Dedyl went to Hongkong for a week’s touring and sight-seeing on her personal accord. I wasn’t aware of her trip. I only learned when she handed me my souvenir T-shirts on her return. I didn’t ask why I wasn’t informed. But I assumed it was the family’s intention not to expose me to unnecessary anxieties.

When Dedyl was still single and was staying with the family, she was also a big help to her mother in copping up with the family’s budget. But even without the financial support, we are proud of her as she is. We are fortunate she is an intrinsic asset to the family. And so we are happy see her grow. She got promotions in the office.

On December 29, 2011, Dedyl exchanged “I Dos” with Gamaliel Roy Burgos, her schoolmate from the University of the Philippines. Gamaliel is connected with the Department of Environment and Natural Resources. He graduated Bachelor of Arts in Social Science. At present he is pursuing his Masters in Urban and Regional Planning at UP Diliman, Quezon City in which he is a consistent University scholar.

            The family is glad to have Gamaliel as a new member. He is a very nice person through and true. It might be unfair to describe him partially, but I am tempted to say that he is a humble and honest person.

Gamaliel and Dedyl had a new son named Lenard Daniel “Niño” who was born on November 28, 2012. The boy is health despite that he was delivered a month earlier through Cesarean because of his Mama’s multiple mayoma. Fortunately or unfortunately Niño will have no sibling. It was God’s disposition that we have Niño.

At five years old, Niño cannot still talk. Experts and their believers said the boy is with autism problem. I do not believe my grandson has a problem. Niño is just above normal being very brilliant his age. He is expert in the use of tablet. His memory is almost photogenic. I believe Señor Sto. Niño will make Niño talk very soon.

May I present rhymes for Niño to describe him of the present, look at the magic glass for his future, and bequeath to him a bloodline’s most valuable assets.

Lenard Daniel Niño

Twinkle sparkle lovely little one;

like a jewel you are to everyone,

like priceless as all that you can be,

hence, worthy of loving by all  and me.

We love you very much little one;

like we always have our endless fun,

we touch each other with our bare hands,

kiss and hug each other like we are fond.

But we cannot be hugging long little one;

Coz you are growing fast like a gentleman,

You can be an honest-clean-brilliant statesman,

But you have to face all and all God’s command.

Be happy always what you will become;

accept your fate but work with iron hand,

even if at times you don’t like it grandson,

it’s the way God’s plan has to be done.

But remember life is not a hard game plan;

all you need is a heart of a real gentleman,

you will be happy accepting there is at hand,

and life will be like living in the wonderland.

Then, when you become a big gentleman;

I pray you will be like whatever you want,

The best thing we can bequeath you grandson,

honesty and simplicity is within your family clan.

AS A FATHER, I would describe myself as overprotective. There was a time when Alan had a problem with a bully at school. Without discussing it with my wife I immediately went to the school and confronted and threatened the kid; informing him that I would challenge his father in a fist fight should he not stop bullying Alan. The kid got scared to his tail and became my son’s friend. There was also a time when Tetet got home late in the evening. I called all the telephone numbers I knew to be that of her classmates and stopped all passenger jeeps at the waiting station asking if they saw my daughter. I would never allow anyone bullying any child, even those not my own.

I tried to be a loving father. I would gather the kids before their bed time for a story-teller session. They enjoyed the fairy tales and would ask for more especially when I’ve told them all of what I could remember from the stories of my father. So, I had to create new stories in a sequel that they became excited waiting for the next night to come. I also shared my time with them playing the ukulele and guitar especially on week-ends when we do not go to the beach. Yes, as if we were addict to the beach when the kids were still young.

I tried also to be a good provider; although I might have been not a success in the strict sense of the word. But I and my wife tried. We even bought a second-hand Volkswagen for the convenience of the kids when they were in their early schooling, although financially it was almost impossible. Riding for the kids in the passengers’ jeep from and to the housing subdivision and the school, especially during rush hours was really almost a nightmare for the children. There would be necessarily a stampede to get a ride.

AS A HUSBAND, I could imagine myself as possessive and jealous type, extra-caring and very helpful. My feeling of possessiveness and jealousy was not due to my lack of trust on my wife. If there’s anyone you can trust, that’s my wife. Maybe it was because she was friendly and charming that could be easily mistaken as flirting or something like that. During her Rural Service when she was at the City Hall and had already four children at the elementary, somebody tried to court her believing that she was still single. No one believed her that she was married until she brought her son on their culmination day. But the guy was terribly embarrassed of his mistake.

But I had not informed my wife I was possessive and a jealous-type. It’s unbecoming of a gentleman to be such. So, when she would attend a class reunion where there would be dancing and/or fiesta dance night, I would find alibis to stay behind in the house or in the car. To complicate matters which were already complicated in my mind, I felt really these things were uncomfortably situated. I would think of her being embraced by a man during the dance; the style of dancing those days were mostly slow-drug where the dancers would be embracing and even do the  check-to-check if they got carried by the power of the music. In truth, less the music, the man and woman would surely even look malicious. Without being malicious, it was the music that allowed the hugging. It would even be more stupid for me to force myself to attend the dance and take my wife as partner the whole night so others will have no chance to embrace her. It would also be a more pitiful scenario for me setting in a dance hall and not dancing at all, watching my wife being hugged… But beside the point, that’s dancing anyway.

I tried to be extra-caring. Like most husbands on travel, one of my attentions in malls was to buy something for my wife; maybe blouse, skirt, perfume, umbrella, or just anything I can think of and can afford. But there was one thing and one time that I created a problem which made her irritated and embarrassed. I bought her a set of under wears that she felt insulted. I was then hurt since insulting was never my agenda. But I just kept silent.  I learned long time ago that sometimes the best action is no action. And to mollify myself I thought that it was an honest mistake; anyway no one will ever appreciate what I did except me if she won’t. I tried also to be a helpful husband. There were many times that we had no house helper. So, I washed the dishes, I cooked rice, I washed our clothes, I ironed them… and you name it.

            AS A PERSON, I could describe myself as industrious, hardworking, persistent, insistent, very time conscious, a day dreamer and perfectionist; which characteristics combine the good and the bad in me as a person. I think I succeeded personally and professionally to some extent because I focused on the good characteristics and tried preventing to commit the same mistake attributable to the bad traits. However, it is prayer and soul searching that made me control over my negative characteristics that they have not affected others.  

CARMEN AS A WIFE, mother and Lola is exceptionally good. As a wife she is understanding among other things. This is a trait that was instrumental for our marriage to survive amidst trials. As a mother she is nurturing. That is why her children have grown up the way she wanted to be. As a Lola she is extra-caring and accommodating. Hence, her grandchildren are very fun of her.

Over the years, Carmen has proven to be humble, peace-loving, hard-working, courageous, and religious among other characteristics. She is generally humble to bow her head even if others would step on her shoes. She would only express her anger when the person is no longer around which is a good idea of avoiding confrontation. When she would be angry with me, she would avoid talking and there would no quarrel. As a peace-loving person she has no enemy and as a hard-working person you wouldn’t see her idle. In fact most often I would remind her to rest once in a while.

Carmen’s courage was tested both in good and bad times. For one, she once resigned from work for the good of the family. For another, she enrolled her children at the most expensive school to give them good education.

My wife’s religiosity is tested in many ways. At home we have so many images of the Lord, the Virgin Mother and many Saints. She never fails to go to the church regularly and is an active member of the Daughters of Mary Immaculate. She is active in promoting the advocacy of the Upliftment of Women’s Worker of this church initiated organization

We love our children, as good parents do, and will continue to do so even if they make mistakes or grow up to become different from what we expect them to be.

My married and family life was not all fun. I had also experienced many ordeals. Many of them were extremely enormous and almost insurmountable. The first one was the vehicular accident of Marites and Maridel when they were still in the elementary grades. The latter miraculously was unscathed. The former had a broken leg, was operated twice, had a stainless brace, and wore crutches for months. It was emotionally distressful and hurtful to see her, especially when she would cry for pain, for shame, or for repentance. Indeed, it was difficult, not to mention the expenses. Even just to remember the incident would cause my nerve to quiver. It will put me into a whirlwind of incompetence, weakness and powerlessness. I could not afford to imagine she suffered that much, especially that I’d blamed me for the accident. I thought that if I have had prevented them rode on the bicycle, there could have been no such problem… I prayed it should have been me not her. But God was good to her, and to us; she was cured and gone were the crutches and the stainless brace.

Another ordeal that was overwhelmingly difficult for the family was the discovery that I am a diabetic at the age of 40. Worse was I had complication on my lungs. So, aside from maintaining the diabetes, I’d been hospitalized many times for the complication. The problem had drag on over the years. Then, when I was already 57 years old, it was decided that I be operated on my lungs to remove rotten tissues.

A day before my operation, my Physician visited me to say hello and check if we were all ready. When I asked him what can possibly happen, his answer was disturbing. He said. “I am a specialist in lung operation, but since it is complicated, I cannot give you hundred percent assurances. There is still that factor of human error. So, pray for me to eliminate that factor.” He told me further that the operation will last for six hours to let me know how difficult it is going to be.

When I woke up in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU), I was told my actual operation lasted only for four hours instead of six. As a matter of fact, my doctor was surprised too how he made that fast. Anyway, I did not feel any pain during the operation. I was heavily sedated and was unconscious for the entire duration. However, when I woke up it was when I felt all the uneasiness and discomfort I can ever imagine. There were many wires and tubes attached and embedded on my body. I felt I was frozen, very weak, exhausted and hungry.

Actually, it was my wife and my daughter Tetet who made my stay in the hospital possible and endurable. I learned that they were tougher than I expected. If it was difficult for me, it must have been more harder for them.

After a month of confinement, I was released from the hospital. And after another month of recuperating at home, I was declared fit for work again. Twenty-four long years since my operation, my lung disease had never recurred. I survived my ordeal with lung disease, but still require regular blood glucose monitoring for my diabetes. My exercise had been reduced though to almost nil because of my arthritic knee, the food intake is thoroughly controlled and the dosage of hypoglycemic agent is threefold. My life is now more of sedentary and had retired from the government service.

There was also a time when I was devastated with depression few months after retirement. I suffered from severe gas pain and insomnia. I was hospitalized twice. But the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with me. When I was released however, it was a psychiatrist who informed me that the abrupt lifestyle change from a fast-paced life to a slow one created a depressing condition. It was indeed difficult experiencing depression because it was like coming to a dead end. Life holds no meaning anymore. What added to the seriousness of the problem were the recurrence of my lung disease, the increase in my arthritic pain, the difficulty in maintaining my sugar level, and the swelling of my prostate as consequences of my prolonged lack of sleep. But four years had whizzed by unnoticed and I am still writing this manuscript. So, really God is good. He is kind. I asked Him a little, and He gave me more.

In resume therefore, my married and family life is full of love and understanding which I would credit them to my wife and children. While it was mixed-up with sacrifices and ordeals, yet we have survived with God’s help, and precisely because of that aforementioned love and understanding. Anyhow, this is what life is all about.  It is only after knowing what sadness is that one will know the true meaning of happiness.

Chapter 5

My Professional Life and My Wife

I NEVER HAD EVEN A WILD IMAGINATION that I would come to Biliran. I didn’t even have any iota of idea about the place. So, when I received a cablegram from the principal of Biliran Rural High School (BRHS) instructing me to report for work, I was actually excited and worried… But I accepted the offer; I needed to work very urgently.

I had no direction to my unknown destination. A map wasn’t even available. Thus, I kept on asking from passengers on my way for my possible route and the kind of world I am going into. I made a sketch on the route and was satisfied. But I was flabbergasted to learn that Biliran is a “place of no return.” I thought it was bad, but later on I understood from their jokes that it was an idiomatic expression. It meant that any bachelor who goes to the Island would by all probability be caught under the skirt of a woman, the place being known of so many beautiful women.

My travel was very risky and it took me two and a half days to complete the trip. I had series of connecting trips. First, there was a bus trip to a port that took about three hours. Second, there was a slow moving filthy boat from the port to Cebu City that took three hours. Third was another boat ride from Cebu to Ormoc City, Leyte for seven hours. Fourth was a bus trip from Ormoc to Carigara, Leyte; a docking area opposite Biliran which took another two hours. Then, finally, there was that inboard pump boat from Carigara to Biliran that took us another couple of hours. The time spent waiting for the connecting trips were more unbearable than the travel itself.

I arrived in BRHS on a sunny afternoon of the third Sunday of December 1968, the exact date of which had already escaped in my memory. I was brought to a small old building, they called Bachelors’ Cottage but it looked like rather more of a farm house. It was poorly maintained, bare and undecorated, a bit untidy, but it was provided with the basic necessities like water and light. It was occupied by three relatively new male teachers, all of them were bachelors.

Everybody; officials, teachers, employees, and students were very busy. The following day would be the opening of a week-long affair to be participated in by all agricultural secondary schools in the region. They dubbed the affair as an annual convention of the Future Farmers of the Philippines. BRHS was the host of that year’s convention. In fact delegates from different places had started arriving that afternoon. I was expecting that I will be formally introduced to the teachers and students the following day, a Monday where there would be a flag ceremony. But there was none because of the affair. There were no classes for the whole week. Instead, the principal assigned me as the photographer after knowing that I had used a camera before. He then gave me a professional wide-angle “Yashika” still camera with a box of several unused films which had been in storage for a year. With that camera slung on my shoulders, taking pictures around, many people especially the ladies had their souvenir photos taken. They called me “photographer”. But they were surprised that I won’t receive deposit fee. And I told them teasingly with a smile that; “just pay on delivery.” After using ten rolls of 20-shots black-and-white films, we had them developed. The result was very embarrassing; there were no pictures in them. To save my ego I suggested subjecting the camera for check-up and buying a new film. It was a nice alibi. I didn’t know what really the case was, but maybe it was in the loading of the film that I made the mistake.

My immediate concern upon arrival was the dialect. I spoke “Boholano”, almost similar to “Cebuano.” But the dialect in Biliran is “Waray-waray”. They would not understand me in my dialect, so I used “Taglish”, a combination of the National Language (Tagalog) and English. But the problem was most people I met; even teachers and students would insist using “Waray-waray”. So there were lots of miscommunications which were either funny, irritating, or even perilous. Thus, I tried hard to learn the dialect. And I found out it was easy, amusing and very useful. It was Carmen who became my truthful tutor.

As bachelors, the four of us had enough time to integrate with the community to widen our professional prospective. In this connection, there were lots of fiestas and parties we attended. There were also frequent drinking sessions we shared to establish rapport with other teachers and local leaders. We also attended dances which were natural occurrences during community affairs. I was always excited in meeting new friends and had always found laughter because “Biliranons” (people from Biliran) are inherently joyful and pleasurable people. On the other hand, it was unavoidable that we encountered beautiful ladies along the way. It was during these occasions that I frequently met Carmen.

As the days rolled by, I found myself feeling very uncomfortable in my teaching job. There were no challenges, especially in the rural high school. The subjects I was handling, Geometry and Algebra were the enemies of almost all students. So, many of them didn’t like me as a corollary. Moreover, my salary was very low that I could hardly even support myself. Anyway, I was always entertaining the idea that such employment was only temporary until I would find a way to practice my engineering profession. On the contrary, I found my personal life very enjoyable. By then I had already Carmen as my sweetheart.

Meanwhile, I had a conflict with my stay in Biliran. I felt misplaced professionally, but was pleased with my love-life. Nevertheless, I could not afford to stay teaching any longer. But I have to wait for the result of my board exam. I haven’t received any copy of my rating nor read it in the news papers. (The trouble was since my arrival I have not seen a newspaper.) Then, one night one of my cottage mates was scanning on the trash can for a scratch paper to start a fire. By a matter of chance he found a crumpled piece of two-month old newspaper containing the press release of our Board Examination. That was how ridiculous and funny, and late I learned I passed it. As a board passer I was ready to look for a greener pasture. Only I was waiting for the right timing. So I continued my work as a teacher. In addition, I was asked to locate the foundations of the proposed buildings in the new site for the college department. I ran the profile of the proposed water system and supervised the construction of new school buildings.

It is also worthwhile to remember that I had some embarrassing and discouraging moments in Biliran. They were caused by my being not sociable and by my poor memory on names of people. There were those awkward situations I was in during social dances, and drinking and singing sessions. “Biliranons” are fond of dancing. But I really don’t know how to dance, especially the modern one. The trouble was that my girlfriend was a graceful and excellent dancer. So, I was forced to dance the slow drag awkwardly and stayed at the background when modern music is played.

However, what was worst was that in public dances, there would be always a special dance called kuratsa, where a pair of properly selected dancers would exhibit special skills. These dancers are usually people with high social standing or known in the community. It is always assumed that everyone knows kuratsa it being a popular dance in the Region. This is a fund-raising dance where one of the dancers at a certain point of the music is held captive and made to sit, while his or her partner keeps on dancing and people would be dropping money in front of the one sitting to rescue him or her. This money will serve as sort of a ransom of the one in captivity. When the dropping of money stops, the dance is resumed and the process is repeated for the other partner. The more money collected, the more popular the dancers are. The money will be donated to any community activity or simply to buy drinks for the visitors. Unfortunately, I really do not know the dance. Not even a simple or single move. So naturally, there were many occasions that I was selected to dance which were very embarrassing.

On the other hand, my poor memory in names of people is another embarrassing story. This is my most serious weakness as a person, to recall the names of people. In my classes I had difficulty in calling the names of my students. Of my 30 students in a class, I could only remember the names of very few: those with extreme qualities; like the two most beautiful, the two brightest, the most talkative, the most shy, the dullest of all, or anyone who had peculiar birth mark in the face. I’d admit I am a poor teacher on that particular score.

When my services with BRHS were terminated, I felt it was a blessing-in-disguise and it was very timely. I had at last a very good reason to leave Biliran. A week after I left the place, a letter from the Head Office of the National Irrigation Administration (NIA) directing me to report for work was received in Biliran. Unfortunately, my friend who took hold of it just kept it, thinking that I already knew it. So, I was late in reporting. It was good the office tried to contact me in my home province address.

My transfer to the NIA was the turning point of my profession. I was the first Agricultural Engineer in the Visayas Regions. As an Agricultural Engineer it was without a doubt that my academic expertise was for NIA. Coincidentally, my heart was for the farmers which were NIA’s beneficiaries. With both professional and personal motivations combined into one, I found my work very stimulating.

My promotion in the agency was very fast.  Maybe it was a reward of a good performance. Or maybe I was just lucky. (Sometimes being lucky is better than being good; but being both is the best.) However, my technique was to propose and/or implement activities which were new to the management, but convincingly useful. I had introduced many valuable innovations. I submitted research proposals which were funded even by foreign institutions. I conducted trainings for employees which the agency was not doing in those days. I started a new scheme of managing irrigation system. In other words, what I did was what the others didn’t, which in the end made the difference.

The highest position I reached in the NIA was Division Manager (DM). It was this   position that qualified me to go abroad for training and seminars. I went to Japan in 1986 and to Thailand in 1990. It was also this position that allowed me to attend significant local trainings held at prominent institutions in the Philippines like the Development Academy of the Philippines and the Asian Institute of Management. What was luckier in my position as DM was that my jurisdiction covered Central and Eastern Visayas. Hence, when I would be in Bohol for official business, I have the opportunity to visit my parents and relatives. Then, while performing my work in Leyte, I have also the chance to pass by my in-laws in Biliran.

My interesting memories with NIA mainly would revolve around the many small farmers I met and had worked with. They were so simple, honest and very hospitable. Most of them were desperately poor. Only few had a better way of life, those that do not only rely on farming. Many of my co-employees were serving the farmers well. But it is disgusting to remember that some officials, especially heads of offices who had become corrupt because of the system. It was a gaffe for an agency that is supposed to be a pro-farmer.

My training in Japan was conducted during the months of July to September. Aside from the technical knowledge I acquired, I also learned many things outside the classroom. My memories include the modern technology and infrastructures of Kasumigaseki District, the complicated subway central interchange in Shinjuku, the castles and shrines, the picturesque landscape of Tsukuba and Hokkaido. I cannot also forget how swift Japanese move and talk and how precise and punctual are they in their schedule, that the participants were forced to adjust to their culture. Our travels were fast and timed by the minute even in the busiest part of Tokyo. I would be also reminded by my classmates from Thailand, Brazil, Malaysia, Sierra Leone, Ghana, Iran, Bangladesh, Burma, Bolivia, Pakistan, Dominica, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Turkey, and Zambia. We talked in English but we can hardly understand each other. After my presentation of my country report, some of them taught I was a radio announcer. But the truth is I am not really a good speaker. I was only good because they were not.

I became close to my classmates from Thailand, Iran, and Brazil. I just did not know what made us clicked together. I think like we had similar characteristics. “Suthon” from Thailand was my best friend. His family name was “Keeratawatana.” He was slow in English but was a very fast learner. He was like a brother. We were inseparable. He had helped me in many ways and I had helped him in return. He asked me about my family and work and he told me about his own. When I departed for home a day ahead of his schedule, he woke up very early at 3:00 AM to send me off and help carry my heavy and bulky baggage down the elevator. His words of good bye were: “I will see you in heaven.” Maybe it was because he does not know how to say it aptly in English. But my reply was: “Maybe first in Bangkok or Manila.”

The Iranian could hardly express himself in English. His name was “Ghazanfar Aidi-Goltapei.” I could not pronounce his name, so I just didn’t call him name. I just touched him when I wanted to talk. But he was close to me. He would knock at my door before going to sleep, hug me and say “good night.” But sometimes he would mistakenly say, “Good bye.” He was very nice to me, I don’t know why. Maybe it was because I was also nice to him. He would just be there again at my door in one morning, carrying something that looked like a white sugar. Unfortunately, I had already mixed it with my cup of coffee when he said; “No…No … No sugar!”  It turned out it was powder soap; and we all laughed with all our hearts… He was a Muslim; and he was a very peace-loving person.

The Brazilian, a very polite guy was fluent in English, Portuguese and Japanese. His name was “Hiroaki Makibara”, the name of a Japanese rather than a Brazilian. It was because his mother was a Japanese. But that was also his first time in Japan. Even then he became our interpreter in getting directions. There were times in the evening that he would be in my room asking many questions about our country and our people. He was interested in our culture. When I started reflecting on this insight, I couldn’t help but blame myself for my failure to teach my children my own dialect.

There were also other participants where I learned valuable lessons. The one from Bolivia was very expressive and articulate in English that he could be misunderstood as lacking in seriousness.   His name was “Arturo Liebers.” I wanted to call him “Art”. But surprisingly he had no nickname… Actually, in the beginning I didn’t like him because of his asking questions our Facilitators can hardly answer in English. But during our study tour in pairs where I was his partner, I realized he was a likable person. Deep inside he was a kind person. He took care of me when we were lost on the way. But he enjoyed my company.  He laughed with delight when I said, “Queres tu. Que estu guapo.” (I like you. You are handsome.) But those were the only Spanish words I can remember at the time. I didn’t even know if they were correct. But I made that mistake because henceforth, he would insist using his native tongue arguing that Filipinos study Spanish in school. Unfortunately I had only six units and had even forgotten how to say in Español; “What are you talking about.” But the lesson here is “it’s not good to judge a person.”

My classmate from Turkey had given me his positive impression about Filipinos because of his interesting observation out of my behavior. His name was “Tarus Ahmet Tahsin Cengiz.” He was a polite, elegant and well-mannered person. One time he noticed that when I talk to Filipinos I meet in the training center, I would be using English. Thus, his comment was; “You Filipinos are very polite people.” When I asked him why; he said; “In the presence of us who cannot understand your language, you talk English.” I was about to tell him the truth, but in reply I simply said; “Thank you.” But the truth was that I was talking to one from Ilocos Sur who talks Ilocano and one from Iloilo City who talks Hilonggo. And we feel more comfortable in English than the Filipino Language. In fact many Filipinos are more articulate in English than the National Language. Some, especially the older ones cannot even communicate in Tagalog.

Another classmate from Burma was another lesson. Her name was “Daw Win Win.” But she was not winning anything from her stipend. Her problem was what to do with her extra money after the training. She told us she cannot buy any valuable things nor bring the extra money home. It’s strictly prohibited by their government. She cannot bring home anything other than what were declared on her person on her departure from her country. Her country is threatened by the military on-going take-over; hence no one would dare break any law. (The official name of Burma was changed to Myanmar with the Military Regime take-over effective 1988.)

There was also a participant from Sudan. He was very black and tall; almost seven feet, that he would vow his head when entering a room. His name was “Kamal Eldin Mohd Ali Hamad.” We just call him “Ali” because of his long name. He was good in English. His hobby was interviewing the participants in the room at night time. He had excluded me as his respondents. He was thinking I could not express myself in English because I was always very silent inside the session hall. But after my country reporting, talking in English in fifteen minutes without any notes, he was there in my room in the evening apologizing for disregarding me. I told him I was not asking questions to the Facilitators because I understand they had difficulty in explaining. He was interested in our form of government, especially what changes there had been to our economy after the “people’s power.” I told him all the good imaginary things and never divulged anything bad at all. (That’s the correct principle when you are in a foreign a land.)

There was also another participant who said he is more unfortunate. His country is behind civilization. No citizen is allowed to own a piece of land, except their King on a limited basis. (This information made me very proud as a Filipino living in the Philippines.) Still another participant said their country is worse; most people eat in bare hands they do not wash before eating. Still another participant claimed theirs is the worst; many children are dying on the streets due to hunger and aids. Then I said; “If yours is unfortunate, worse, and worst; mine is seriously suffering from brain-drain.” They all laughed; maybe they didn’t grasp what I said. Or maybe they thought I was joking.

There were few things I noticed from the participants. They do not have nicknames. I was told all Asians do not have, because it is a bad word. To them, Filipinos excluded, a nickname is a calling of belittling a person. Also, to some of them, the word toilet is dirty, hence they use comport room instead. Also, there were those who would frown or even stare in disbelief when you use the word urinate. It is fowl to them, they use the word pee. (So when you go abroad, be careful in the use of words even if they are universally acceptable.)

I had also many funny and embarrassing experiences in Japan. The major ones were during my arrival. First was when I rode on the elevator in the big hotel where we were temporarily checked-in very early in the morning to have a coffee or anything to eat. The switch board was in Japanese character. So, I pressed the lowest button presuming it was ground level. But I was frightened when it opened; it was dark as black – it was the bodega second level below the ground. So, I rode back and forth experimentally to check what button the lobby was… Next was when I ordered my first breakfast after my encounter with the elevator. I was foolish enough to pretend I understood the menu in Japanese by pointing at random three items. But when the food arrived I was shocked to see an omelet, a fried egg, a scrambled egg and a cup of coffee. Then on the same hotel I was also surprised when the door opened automatically upon stepping in front… There was also one occasion during our study tour when I drunk on a fountain loaded with mouth wash because I couldn’t read the label. So, after realizing my mistake, I pretended I was rinsing my mouth but in truth I had swallowed enough mouthwash.

My seminar in Thailand had fulfilled my words to Suthon when we said “good bye” in Tokyo: that I first see him in Bangkok before heaven. My stay in his country was during the whole month of November, 1990. I was glad and elated. He brought me to various places; like the floating market, the shrines, and the Thai Expo… I realized that whatever is your nationality, whatever differences there might be because of culture and religion, you can still have a friend like Suthon.

In Thailand, there are two major places I can easily remember; Bangkok and Chiang Mai. Of course there were many places we visited to observe irrigation projects, upland crops, including the elephant farms. You will see old and young tribes pollinating their own tomato plants. You will observe how orderly the farmers are following scheduling in the use of water. They told us they copied the technology from the Philippines. (The only difference is that they implement what they know. In our case we quarrel with what we know). I cannot also forget the unique night life in Chiang Mai. Their business and office operations are closed during the day and opened at night. The commercial area is alive during the night and sleeps during the day.

It was in Bangkok and Chiang Mai that we refrain from buying imported goods and prefer the locally made ones. You look for expensive imported goods and you will see products from the Philippines; shoes from Marikina and Timex watches from Mactan, Cebu. We bought the inexpensive displays in the sidewalk, including the imitation Rolex which looked like original.

When I was working with NIA, I was also a part-time Instructor at the University of the Philippines (UP), Tacloban College for five school years. My memory recall on the names of my students did not improved despite my reading on books about how to solve the same, like associating faces with things easy to remember. Only that in UP, the size of my classes was very small. One semester I had only nine. In another semester I had only one. But there was a semester that I had 18 students. It was then that I felt the same problem again. I realized I will always suffer from this weakness, whether I like it or not. So I had to admit that there is such a thing as human limitation.

Even if I was very busy when I was still with NIA, I found time to indulge in my hobby of writing. I am not really good in writing but I just love the craft. I had submitted four articles to the Mod Magazine, a national publication in the Philippines in their regular column “True Adventures Into The Unknown.” They were all published in 1977. The titles were “Revenge of the Spirits, Kidnapped, My Invisible Roommate, and Inay Miray’s Last Visit.”  I just felt good seeing my name printed and my ideas circulated in a widely-read magazine.

Carmen’s first humble work experience was a school teacher.  She was assigned to teach Grade 1 at the Biliran Central School. However, few years later because of her good performance and added qualification resulting from seminars and summer classes, she got the trust and confidence of the School Administrator. She was designated as the School’s Guidance Counselor against senior interested teachers. To her, her work was her soul, her life and the reason for her being. She loved teaching. She had six years of teaching experience before she resigned and later on joined with the working force of the City Hall of Tacloban City in December 1977.

In the City Hall, competition for promotion was oftentimes unfair because of political intervention. And my wife had no political clout. She started as Statistical Aide, the lowest item in the City Planning Office. But because of hard work and excellent performance, my wife rose from the rank rapidly. In 1983 she was acclaimed by the City Hall as the Model Employee of the Year. And in 2002 she was commended by the Civil Service Commission as the “Gantimpala Agad Awardee” under the “Mamamayan Muna Program,” the first award received so far in the City Hall.

The highest position achieved by my wife in the City Hall was Nutrition Officer IV as head of City Nutrition Office. At one time she had been also the Officer in Charge of the City Tourism Office after she had organized the same when the City Hall expanded after its reorganization. When the office became functional she was withdrawn to create another office. She then created the City Environment and Natural Resources Office and became its Officer In charge for a while. Then she was withdrawn again when the office became functional. Actually, she was reluctant in accepting the tasks as it created the ire of the Personnel Officer. That was his inherent function. But the City Mayor thought she was the only capable employee in the City Hall being the only Doctor of Management graduate at the time.

My wife’s memories connected to her work smells success from all perspective. The City Nutrition Office garnered several national awards under her stewardship, including the most coveted “Crown Award.” She received the award in Malacaňang Palace in 2004 from no other than the President of the Philippines herself. No other leader in the City Hall had ever had achieved this record. She had also initiated innovative programs in the CTO and in the CNRO, which works should have not been hers, but the Municipal Mayor gave them to her.

         Carmen’s travel to Bangkok, Thailand was in compliance to the requirement of our Masteral Studies. They had tours and lectures for a couple of weeks and had their defense at the Asian Institute of Technology. The defense was however on the students’ individual thesis proposal. Her happy memories of Bangkok include the shrines, the floating market, the Royal King’s Palace, the extremely hot Thai recipes, and the funny but pitiful experience of one of the participants who was left behind during a field trip.

Her training in Germany was during the months of April and May in 2003 at InWEnt Training Center in Feldafing. There were five Filipinos who participated in the training accompanied by 20 other delegates from 10 different countries. Her happy memories would include her visit to the Fairy Tale Castle in Munich, the ride on a cable car to the Mountain Alps, the Colon Cathedral where the holy treasures are keep including the relics of the three kings, and the extended trip to Vienna, Austria and had observed the scenic view where the Sound of Music was filmed. Her very comical and emotional experience was when she lost her passport.

One of Carmen’s memorable experiences in Germany was her coming up the mountain Alps. Coming from a tropical country like the Philippines, she always wondered how the snow really looked like and how it would exactly feel to touch it. So, when their next destination was to the famed Alps, she could not help herself but be flabbergasted with excitement. Indeed her experience was quite unbelievable and unforgettable.

The height of the cable car from down below was extremely of towering altitude that her fear of heights kept taunting her. Nonetheless, her willpower was telling her this was a once in a lifetime experience. Though the ride was admittedly nerve-racking, she could not help but be completely awed by the ruggedly green mountains below. The crystal clear waters were even sparkling like welcoming everyone. It was so much marvelous that her sudden fear of height was momentarily forgotten. She made it on the top of the Alps. The snow, white and cold; finally she touched it.

Another unforgettable experience of Carmen in Germany was her travel to Cologne. She learned that the City is located in Northwestern Germany in the State of North Rhine and located on the west bank of the Rhine River. She was informed that Cologne is also known as a Treasurer of Sacred Objects. But what was more memorable to her was her being able to touch the relics of the Magi, the Three Wise Men who came to adore Baby Jesus on the first Christmas Day. There also she saw the most revered miracle-working image of the Mother of God which dates from the 18^th Century with the Child Jesus in full decoration with real jewelries and stones.

Then, there was her story about the lost passport on her way to Vienna, Austria. She was in panicky and totally devastated imagining she won’t be allowed to go home on schedule. She was informed by the Consul General that it will take normally two weeks to process a new passport. It was then that she felt the pain of being left behind. But luckily, it turned out that she had with her all the documents that would prove she is who she is claiming to be. She had her old passport when she traveled to Thailand and her many clearances more than enough to support a new passport. So, it took only ten minutes for the Philippine Embassy to issue her new passport. Actually, the people in the Embassy were surprised why she had all those papers when they were not needed in her travel. In short it was by mere luck that her going home was not delayed, otherwise she would have suffered a lot.

THE SOURCE OF OUR INCOME  was only from the practice of our profession. So, it was really limited since we were only government employees. In fact at times it was not even enough. But we both occupied positions or functions wherein under the table transactions could have been possible that will give us extra money. But we didn’t succumb to the temptation.

Despite the meager income and a growing family, we had helped two of my relatives go to college. It was wonderful my wife was very understanding and accommodating. First, we had my youngest sister finished Civil Engineering. Next, a niece studied Commerce. They were practically additional dependents. They became professionals because of our help. Sometimes I just wonder if they thought it was my obligation rather than a voluntary help. If they believed it was the former, then they were deeply wrong. Why would it be my obligation? But if they thought of the latter, then they must be unendingly grateful by now. Honestly, I did it out of pity. Anyway, my wife once said; “If you help, don’t ever expect they will help you in return. Maybe other people will do.”

          While we were still with the government service, I and my wife took up our post graduate studies as our own volition. We studied our Masters in Business Administration together from 1993 to 1995 in a local university just few minutes ride from our residence. It was a night classes. At first I was not interested in taking up Masteral Degree. I thought it was already too late. I was already 53 years old. But my wife enrolled me without my knowing. I was not required to take the usual entrance examination because she was known to the Masteral Department Head. So I started schooling and became interested in a short while. It was also a good idea because I could escort my wife at night. So I said, “why not.” It’s wonderful to have a spouse who is your classmate. Exchange of ideas, notes and materials had no hassle.

My wife belonged to the Special Class while I was with the Executive Class. It was called special class because that was the first time an MBA was offered in the school. All other masteral courses were related to education. My class was also called executive because the students were chiefs of offices.  Our schedule was from 6:00PM to 9:00PM from Monday to Friday. It was specially designed to serve our purpose. In our curriculum, we were given two options for our final requirement: to conduct a thesis or to attend a seminar abroad. Only one opted for the former and all the rest went with the latter. So, the two classes were merged and went to Bangkok, Thailand in April, 1994. But since it will be expensive if the two of us will join the travel, I requested our Professors that I be exempted from it the fact that I had already attended training in Bangkok with the same course covered by my thesis proposal; that I will depend said proposal after or before their travel. I was exempted from both the travel and the defense.

         In 1997 to 1999 we took up our course in Doctor of Management in Cebu City. At first I was not also interested in taking up the course with the same reason when my wife enrolled me at my masteral course. But my wife instructed my son who was studying in Cebu to enroll me. In fact I was already late for a month. But the school was very liberal and I was accepted. It was then too that I realized how difficult would it be for her to travel alone. So, I went to school again. This time we were classmates. It was quite tiresome for the trips on land and risky for the trips at sea, especially with a very light craft. It was also very expensive for the transportation expenses. To go to Cebu, we had to leave our house at 3:30 AM via Ormoc City on a non-stop bus for two hours. Then at 6:00 AM we had connecting trip to Cebu via a fast ferry for another two hours. So, we reached the school at about 8:30 AM. That should have been all right because the regular schedule for our course was 9:00AM to 12:00 NN and 1:00PM to 4:00PM every Saturday with two subjects. But we had planned to finish the course in two-year period. And to do that we had to carry three subjects per semester instead of the usual two. So, a special arrangement was made between our class and our Professor-Adviser.

Our new schedule was 6:00 AM to 12:00 NN and 1:00 PM to 5:00 PM to be able to carry three subjects. But those of us who came from Tacloban (we were 17 out of 31 enrollees) and other faraway places would be very late. Then to compensate with our lost time we were required to submit extra “written case analysis” and “term papers”. It was a special schedule never been granted by the school before our time. The idea that we come in advance on Friday afternoon was discarded being expensive and intolerable. It would mean a night stay at the hotel or the filing of leave of absence from our office work. The former is expensive while the latter is not always possible and would drain out our leave balances in the long run.

Our study in Cebu was not all work. There were also lots of plays. Many times we would sneak around if our Professor is nowhere to be found. Many times also we would come one day ahead or stay behind a day late to go window shopping or watch a movie. I was lucky because we could spend the night free of charge at the NIA Quarters in Cebu City.

The writing of our Dissertation was the most difficult part of the study. So, all of our classmates were forced to hire one of our Professors to do the work. It will cost us forty thousand pesos per dissertation. I and my wife were almost tempted to avail of her services too, despite that I learned the practice was prohibited by the school management. But when I and my wife submitted our proposals, we discovered that the original ideas were changed and the results became vague and off-tangent. There was also that concern that because we were many, the possibility would be some of us will fail to meet the short deadline. So, we decided that I and my wife had to do the work by ourselves. Fortunately, we made it very successfully, even much ahead of our classmates. Of course there were nights without sleep and meals being late or suspended, aggravated by our inadequate skills in the use of computer. Many of our classmates did not graduate together with us because of the dissertation.

So, we finished the course within the two-year period as planned. It was a record hardly attained by other Doctorands. Many students that followed us wanted to imitate the arrangement, but the school had disapproved them. It was learned later on that carrying more than two subjects per semester in post graduate study is not allowed by the Commission on Higher Education.

Meanwhile, one of my professors became interested on my dissertation. She asked me who wrote my book. She said the style of writing was good and clearly different from the others. When I told her I did it, she urged me to help other Doctorands for a fee, provided it will not be exorbitant. Anyway, she said she knew of the Professor who had been accepting the job but is very costly for the students. Thus, I started dissertation writing with her acting as my agent. It was then that I realized I could easily do the work. So, I had earned in return more than what I and my wife had spent for our doctorate studies.

It is very clear then that the main reason why I finished my post graduate courses was because of my wife. If she had been less courageous and not persuasive, I would have not made it. And if I had not acceded to her persuasion, she would have found it difficult or maybe not finish it at all. Thus, in marriage there is always strength in helping one another.

Our professional life was full of memories beyond forgetting. It was a mixture of excitement and laughter, and of hard work and ordeals. Yet, at the end of the day, they were fulfilling and satisfying.

BOOK

TWO

Book Two is a sequel of Book One. Writing was started nine years after my retirement from the government service.  It is a story of my life as a retiree. It is a story of a new millionaire who became a puffer. It is a story of a proud and brilliant manager who became the dullest of them all. It is a true story of misfortunes, sickness, near-death experiences, healing, and survival.  It is a story of my second chance to be alive.  And, it is a story of aging gracefully.

However, this book had been updated in May 2019, now that I am running 79 years old but can still write with God’s graces. 

A family tree of crafted photographs made in March 3, 2017 is shown below. The first line from above is Carmen and Arsenio; the second line from left to right are Armando and Mailyne, Marites, Alan and Maricris, Gamaliel and Maridel; and the third line are Arys, Kyle, Kirby, and Niño.

Chapter 6

A Retirement Is A New Life

In June 30, 2005 I retired three months ahead of the compulsory retirement. But my timing was both in good and bad times. It was good because I have done good things for the office and its clientele. It was good because I have reached the ripe age for retirement. On the other hand, it was bad because the office I will be leaving is in trouble. As a government-owned corporation, it could not pay its employees’ salary regularly. It could not even pay the accrued leaves of retiring employees. As a matter of fact, eight months after I retired from NIA and the Agency is still paying my salary adjustments by installment.  

On my retirement date, the office was squabbling because of the streamlining to reduce manpower expenses. Employees were behaving like crabs to be retained. Worst was, the Agency I love most, was listed as one of the top 10 ranking corrupt agencies at the time. There was too much strife among the leaders that worsen the image of the corporation. But I was saved by the bell because of my retirement. However, I was indeed unhappy leaving the office in disarray. The Department where I belonged is scheduled to be abolished. But awfully among terrible things, it is the department that justifies the agency’s participatory approach program. It is like sacrificing the welfare of its clientele for the sake of the service provider.

I spent 45 years of my lifetime working with the government. I started as a school teacher and retired as a middle manager of a non-teaching institution. I had a good salary grade. But despite my efforts to save part of my salary for my retirement life, I did not have any at the end. It was so because every time I had savings, there were unavoidable circumstances that the money had to be spent. Or maybe I was just not good enough in making a saving. In fact I did not have any bank account for that matter. Of course I tried but I failed.

However, with my retirement, I received my five years retirement lump sum from the Government Service Insurance System. I became an instant millionaire. With the money as our capital, and as Agricultural Engineer myself and together with my son who is a Civil Engineer, we ventured into construction. But the problem was; we were in a hurry and we were not prepared to face the evil of the industry... And to make the story short, I lost all my money.

As in the case of most major disasters, this one struck without any warning. I was totally devastated. I went into severe depression. I thought I have no more reason to live. Shame was all over me... I felt I was the most stupid person on earth… As if heaven crumpled over my head... And so I wanted of ending my life... The misfortune was just stronger than my strength to deal with the situation. It was beyond my humility to accept that I failed. As a result of my depression, I felt very ill - mentally and physically... I lost my appetite, became very weak, and lost weight.  I suffered from severe gas pain and insomnia.  I had to be confined in the hospital for observation. But the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with me. So, on the second day I was released; but a doctor said my ailment is just in my mind. It’s psychological. But I didn’t understand him.

On my first night at home, my condition became worst. I could not rest and was hearing my name being called repeatedly which my housemates would deny. Naturally, my family was worried and I was brought back to the hospital. On my second day in the hospital, I complained of muscle numbness. I became nervous and afraid of just anything: darkness, long silence, a loud voice. Then I began hearing unusual sounds, like guns being fired in rapid succession and droning of arriving airplanes. I also began seeing giants and demons. Unbelievably, these giants and demons resemble the images of people I lately hate. Worst, I saw myself dead. When I complained of what was happening, the young doctor on duty suspected I had mental illness and began asking more crazy questions; like “is it in my bloodline, do I recognize the woman at my bedside who happened to be my wife, and am I destructive.” I was horror-struck.

On the third day my family was in real trouble. My first grandson, Arys, still a three-year old was admitted to the same hospital I was in. He was suspected of having infected with a virus which was so dangerous that he had to be flown to Manila if his condition will not improve… On the fourth evening, I thought I was dying and felt being rushed to an undisclosed place while my heart ticked in slow motion.  With excruciating effort, I told my second daughter who was always at my side, to be strong and to help her mother prepare for eventualities. Then “I fell dead.” Surprisingly though, I could hear a distinct voice rising above the deep loud voices saying, “Wake him up, his pulse is normal.”

During the morning rounds of my Psychiatrist, I asked for an explanation with what I felt the night before. My Doctor said: “You’re suffering from depression.  But don’t worry. It’s a curable illness. There are many ways to deal with it now than before. But first, stop thinking of your problems and focus on your blessings”.

That is easier said than done, I thought. My silence worried the doctor, especially when I refused to answer her questions. The truth, however, was that I was confused, tired, and wanted to rest.

Meanwhile, my grandson miraculously recovered from his ailment before his flight could be scheduled. Nobody could understand, not even his doctor! Somebody said the boy was only stressed because of my condition. It happened that Arys is Lolo’s boy.

Unwilling to accept my condition, my family repeatedly advised me repeatedly to “help myself and pray” because my illness, they said, was simply in the mind. I sincerely prayed, so I thought, for God’s intervention in my behalf. I strove to think positively. I started thinking of nothing else but positive thoughts. It was almost impossible but I did it. That night I slept soundly for the first time.  My health condition improved. Gone were the sounds I heard and the images I saw.  The doctor told me that sleep was instrumental to my recovery.  But a religious group member claimed my prayers did the job.

On my release the fifth day, my Psychiatrist told me, “Your retirement triggered the depression. Your abrupt lifestyle change from a fast-paced life to a slow one created a depressing condition.”  She advised me to make a listing of the good and bad things that happened to my life and focus on the good ones. The big trouble was that my Psychiatrist was not told about my financial misfortune…In a couple of weeks at home, the negative thoughts were back. At first I was confident of my bring-home medicines, mostly anti-depressant and anxiety attack-reliever. The problem was that after taking these drugs a little longer, the prescribed dosage didn’t take effect anymore; that aside from being unable to sleep the whole night, my whole body would shudder when anxiety attacked. So, without any doctor’s direction, I increased the dosage. The side-effect was disastrous. When I would weak up in the morning, my vision would be blurred and my speech would be impaired. I would stammer like a very old man. My sense of balance was very poor that I would hold on to something to make me steady. 

This atrocious condition persisted for the month that followed. I kept on going back to the hospital as out-patient. I underwent many laboratory tests. The results were equally horrifying like, my lung disease had recurred, and my prostate had swollen. Meanwhile, my psychological therapy sessions with my psychiatrist continued. But my depression didn’t leave me.

With my depression, life to me was like coming to a dead end. As if I was in the middle of nowhere that all around me are problems and there’s no solution to them. Life holds no meaning anymore. I felt I was useless. So, I stopped taking my drugs without telling anyone – not even my doctor. I was ready to die… On the eve of Christmas Day in 2005 all around were noises – firecrackers, audios and carolers. Unbelievably, I enjoyed listening to the sound-mix; that without my knowing I fall asleep very soundly on the carpet. I woke up very late the following day. For the first time in three solid months, I tasted again how relaxing is it to have a good full night sleep.

With a relax body and brain, I was able to realize that I shouldn’t be depressed. As a father, my eldest graduated MBA, my second and third children are Civil Engineers, and my youngest graduated Doctor of Management.  As a grandfather, my three grandsons are consistently excelling in their classes. As a husband, I am lucky to have a very lovable wife. As a Professional, I am an Agricultural Engineer, a graduate of MBA and Doctor of Management. And so, anyone in my status is not supposed to succumb to human depression.   

The following day was a Christmas Day and I was in my happy mood to the full delight of my family. I dusted my old books and filed them properly. I scanned my old files of magazines and school organs to retrieve my published articles. I read them happily; reminiscing my past.  I tinkered on our old table computer where I am good at it. Unknowingly, I forgot I have depression. After lunch I had a long nap and after dinner I went to bed early and had a sound sleep until seven o’clock of the following day.

My family was overjoyed by what was happening to me. So, my daughter, Marites began buying and renting novels. I read voraciously. It’s my old hobby. I didn’t realize I forgot imagining problems. Reading the whole day made my eyes drowsy and kept my mind pre-occupied with exciting stories on the likes of Sidney Sheldon, Phillip Margolin, Dannielle Steel, and Robert Ludlum. Thus, my sleeping habit had returned to normal. 

Then, my wife bought me a Laptop. It made me busier and had diversified my leisure; it was like giving me back my lost favorite playmate. But aside from playing with it, I started to revive my hobby of writing. Finally, I realized that with God’s help there is such thing as “Life after Retirement”.

Chapter 7

Life after Retirement

Thirteen long years had passed unnoticed. My collection of Novels is now a huge volume and daughter Marites, a Civil Engineer at DPWH bought me the latest model of Acer for my exclusive use. I cannot do away with them because they gave me my Second Chance to Be Alive… I am reminded I have aged when I looked into the mirror. But I feel younger than real both mentally and physically. My face is marked with lines, but my wife said they made me handsome.

Mentally, I am fully recovered. The depression is completely gone. My memory-recall is not yet a problem. My skills in writing had even improved. In June 2007 I wrote my article entitled “Face to Face With Depression.” It was published at the “National Journal of Better Living: Health and Home.” This is a national magazine with general circulation. Then, I became a blogger and I self-published true-to-life stories and poems. My posting in the blog entitled “My Destiny: The Story of My Life (Book One of this edition) had the most followers. But my priority is writing dissertation and thesis as it is an area where I can help post graduate students having problem with the same, keep myself busy to avoid boredom and even earn even dollars. If you visit www.Google.com and search for arsenio unajan baquilid, you will find several of my articles published. 

Physically, I have rejuvenated. Gone were the arthritis and muscle pains. I do breast-walking, sometimes jogging. I drive my new car almost daily. My new hobby is “farming”. But that is ahead of the story...

On the other hand, my wife is involved in civic and religious organizations in addition to housekeeping because most often than not, we have on-and-off house helper. But she is made busy as President of WOW! BEAUTY-BRAINS ASSOCIATION, INC., a non-stock non-profit organization with the mission of working in teamwork with private individuals, Non-Government Organizations (NGO’s) both local and foreign, and Government Agencies (GA’s) soliciting the active involvement of the indigenous community to improve their environment and their way of life. The association had conducted medical missions, and feeding and gift-giving programs to poor communities. She had also acted as resource person for trainings initiated both by the government and non-government organizations. She is good at it. It’s her cliché. Mentally and physically, she is still active and healthy. I over-heard people commenting on her as still “elegant-looking”.       

Together, we do many things we both enjoy. We strive to make most what is common to both of us but we respect our individuality. It is that commonality that brings us together; but it is that individuality that brings excitement to our togetherness. So we nurture our similarity and maintain our difference. For example; she loves to watch prime time TV shows and I just eat my dinner ahead alone. But when I watches HBO, she uses her tablet for her love stories.

The best thing that had happen to me and my wife as retirees is we have a small farm – about three hectares. It is generally loaded with fruit-bearing coconut trees inter-cropped with pineapple, banana, and soursop. My wife baptized the farm as “AC-Farm”. At the moment, we still do not give importance to the denotation of the letters. But we are considering to mean Arsenio Carmen.  

At the right side of the entrance of the farm is an image of the Virgin of Fatima with a beautiful foreground; a fountain, flowers, and a circular loan with a kiosk at the center. Few meters further the same entrance is an image of Senior Sto. Niño at the back of a water pool with continuous water droplets like heavy downpour that serving koi fish and water lily.   

On the Western side of the farm is a small area beside a creek we call “mini-forest”. It is very cold underneath the mahogany trees we planted, and other trees already existing when we acquired the land. It had become the haven of many birds and bees. There are even wild cats, snakes, and other wild animals. In fact we have domesticated a wild cat and owls. 

On the Northern side of the farm is also a small area devoted to various flowers; big and small. For direction purposes, this area is called by my wife as “The Jungle”. It is beside a big river, and opposite this river is a forest. Nearly at the center of the farm is an open space devoted as garden where vegetables of many kinds are planted. We practice organic gardening. We practice crop rotation. We practice diversified gardening. And we practice plastic mulching. But we do not make money in our farm. It’s just for fun. And we demonstrate to the farmers around how to utilize their idle backyards. We gave them seeds and seedlings for free. There is also an area in the farm that is utilized for breeding fighting cocks. We have pigeons, love birds and a wild cat… Then, there is a wide area as play ground.

As it is, retirement is always a new kind of lifestyle to anyone, something that you are not used to and even too difficult to manage. Others would even feel some fear thinking about it. They would entertain the notion that they have become less useful and aging. But no, that is wrong! Believe it because I am a retiree myself who had succumbed even to depression and thought of killing myself, but had recovered from the tragedy.

There are two most essential elements in managing retirement successfully-financial security and leisure ingenuity. But between the two, I am inclined to believe that the latter is more important than the former. Even with limited money you can still enjoy with leisure. What is only needed is the proper choice of your activities; one that you can afford and capable of doing with enjoyment. One way of killing yourself early is wishing to have and to do something not within your means.

Most people believe that retirees should go into leisure rather than work. They should go vacationing, visiting, seeing the grandchildren, crocheting, and so on. In other words, retirees should avoid the anxieties of a hectic daily living by indulging in more enjoyable and relaxing activities. What is important but usually difficult is putting into practice on what we believe in.

It’s easy and simple for me and my wife! We do what we did when we were younger. We cock our food; we wash the dishes; we laundry our clothes; we clean the house, feed our pets, and do everything especially when we have no house helper… When in the farm, we forget who we were and what we are... We do many things, and we are happy… Then, with the birth of our fourth grandson, we took care of him, especially when his parents are in the office and there is no “yaya” around.

On December 29, 2011, Dedyl exchanged marriage vows with Gamaliel Roy Burgos, her schoolmate from the University of the Philippines. The family is glad to have Gamaliel as a new member. He is a very nice person through and true. It might be unfair to describe him partially, but I am tempted to say that he is a humble and honest person. Hence, Lenard Daniel “Niño” who was born on November 28, 2012 is indeed a very lucky person having exemplary genetic combinations and a balance nurturing with love as the bottom line.  

With Niño around, the grinding of time is always unnoticed. Believe me, as a retiree you will find new meaning in your life taking care of a grandson. Many grandparents have alibis to shun from taking care of a grandson. They may be right; but no that is wrong in my case. To be honest with you, Niño is a child not just like any other child. Of course not all of us can be blessed to have a grandson like Niño: very cute, very talented, very entertaining, very lovable… but find a reason to watch a grandson and enjoy being called  “Wowo” for “Lolo”and Wowa for Lola. It means grandpa and grandma, respectively.  

Being happy is the ultimate objective of a retiree. For that matter, that is true to everybody, retiree or not. Happiness is an effective antidote of aging. You can age gracefully when happy. But staying idle makes you unhappy. Try it if you don’t believe me! It is inadvisable for a retiree to be idle and unhappy. especially if one has still the physical capacity and the emotional stability. Sadness and idleness are like twins. They are fatal to one’s physical and mental phenomena. Especially for retirees who are no longer young, a person is susceptible to sickness and can be a fickle-minded, if you are not careful. Therefore, avoiding unhappy moments and unnecessary stress may add years to their lives. But, since growing old is inevitable, retirees who are old should be happy they have reached that age; many hadn’t had the chance. Abraham Lincoln said: “In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count but the life in your years.” Nicholas Sparks also said: “Our lives can't be measured by our final years, of this I am sure.” Indeed, not too many people know how to live as a retiree.

Over the years I’ve learned how to effectively manage my retirement life after a very disgusting, shameful, nerve-raking and almost life-taking depression. (My retirement aggravated that depression, according to my Doctor.) Anyway, there are many ways of managing retirement life. But whatsoever is your way, allow me to share these insights. First, accept the fact that your life-style will change when you are retired. Second, select the best option of what you will do with your life that will fit to your condition. Then, finally, live your life fully on the day-to-day basis. Your happiness is more vital than anything else.

Change in life-style

            I have written three post graduate dissertations about retirement. (I am the Head writer of Dissertation Writing Helpmate). Many authors say retirement is about changing one’s life style; either negatively or positively. According to Edwin B. Flippo in his book Personnel Management, “Retirement has been characterized by some as a ‘roleless role’… which has stimulated the belief that retirement leads to mental and physical illness and sometimes premature death;” which is negative thinking. But Leroy O. Stone in his book Key Demographics in Retirement Risk Management, said: “The broader concept of retirement recognizes that retirees can have lifetime commitments to making important outputs of productive work that are valuable to their families and to society, even if they are not paid;” which is positivism.    

            Be careful though, even Oxford Dictionary defines the word retirement as: “The period of one’s life after leaving one’s job and ceasing to work.” To this writer, ceasing to work is not a comfortable situation. The best thing to do is continue working; this time it is enjoyable – you can choose your work and there is no pressure over you whatsoever. By the way, if you have real talents and would wish not to work in a corrupt system, get out from the government service while there is still time… my God…     

            So fellow retirees, the choice is yours; negative or positive. Your choice is of course positive; but it’s easy said than done. Let me tell you my own experiences… Few months into retirement life, my life was distressing. I went into a depression. There was an incredible change in my life-style. From a fast-paced life to a slow one was something I had to deal with. It is precarious to be staying physically less active with a mind still willing and able. When I was still active with the service, my work required frequent leg-work and mind-twister. Now that I am a retiree I am a bit restricted physically because of my arthritic muscles but my mind is still active.

In my early days of retirement, most often than not, I was at home… Gone were the excitement of traveling, the joy of meeting people, the challenge of creating new ideas, and many more. Consequently, gone too were the stress and anxieties in coping with deadlines and/or schedules.

On the other hand, I have the luxury of time. I have the freedom to stay in bed as long as I like. I have the choice when to take my bath, or even not to when feeling lazy. I don’t bother anymore what to wear, or even may not wear anything at all as long as I have my shorts. There is no need for me to crush and rush into a ride to be on time in the office… My life had become easy and simple. And with a life like that, the choice is mine. The point is; whether we like it or not, our lifestyle changes once we are retired from our employment. We become unhappy if we do not willingly accept that inevitable changes.

Do something you enjoy

Actually, my life was flat boring being almost sedentary in the early days of my retirement. My options were very limited. I tried hard joining with my wife to the farm. I liked it but it was physically difficult. I tried watching the television, and there’s nothing I could enjoy. All I heard and saw were the bad news and the repetitive movies. Then I read novels; the like of Sidney Sheldon, Phillip Margolin or Robert Ludlum, but there’s no copy unread anymore. So, I got bored too in the long run, not enjoying with the other exceptionally renowned authors.

Then I tried the computer, the Laptop. It’s very enjoyable. I am intrigue by the latest operating system. I enjoy browsing the website, chatting and exchanging messages in the facebook. I accept encoding and printing jobs for a pay. I help write dissertation, thesis, or business plan on contractual basis. I am thrilled with my new found activity. It is a cure to my boredom. I meet young people and talk about their thesis or their subject. In the process I am also learning. Now I am enjoying what I am doing. I have become very busy writing and editing theses and dissertations on line. You can visit me  at https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=3444184978154638643#allposts or http://www.academia.edu/9479559/Writing_a_Dissertation_or_Thesis_Proposal.

Virtually, we defer in what we enjoy and what we know. But there are many options. If you have no space for a garden, potted plants will do. Or the culture of orchids is exciting, especially if you try sexual propagation or cross breeding. If you have a mother fruit tree or flower plant beside your home, you can learn or practice propagating them asexually like budding, grafting or marcotting. Or you can try venturing, like a sari-sari store. You can also try crocheting or cooking or you can try anything you do not know called experimenting. The point is; do not stop working even if there is no payroll anymore. Do anything you will enjoy doing.

My wife who is also a government retiree likes farming. She practices both diversified cropping and intercropping. She has no academic training or previous experience in horticulture. She plants anything she can pick up and anywhere she likes. She buys any good-looking potted flowers and fruit trees in the market. In the end the farm looks very green and beautiful that she calls it “Green Paradise” but ended up calling it “AC-Farm”.

In addition to my Laptop business, I have rejoined with her in the farm and fortunately my arthritis is gone and my blood sugar level is under control. When the two of us are forced to stay in the house because of inclement weather, she is unbelievably more than just busy; repainting, varnishing, rearranging, cleaning, washing, wiping that she looks masters of all trades. Her reason is: “I enjoy working and get exhausted if not”. Actually, agriculture is close to my heart. I studied secondary in an agricultural school. I am an Agricultural Engineer. But above all, I was born in the farm and my father was a farmer.  

Living to the fullest

In my early retirement, I avoided joining family activities. I had so many ready alibis. My best and common alibi was my arthritic muscles and frequent urination because of my diabetes. I was terribly wrong because the activities were not only ways of relaxing but also good for my health. The Sunday beach that my family is fond of is an excellent leisure and exercise. The visits to spiritual, scenic spots or other outdoor adventurisms are equally enjoyable and satisfying. (I missed life in avoiding them.)

As a retiree myself, I have several unsolicited advices of how to live to the fullest. But to summarize them, let me say it in few words as follows: Don’t think of the past or the future. Adopt the “here and now” concept of life. Be contented on what you have and enjoy what you are doing right now. Don’t ask for more because you had been given what’s enough for you. Somebody said: “If you do not get what you like, you have to like what you get.” In fact, a retiree should be happy and grateful he/she had reached retirement age; many never had the chance.

Chapter 8

GOD IS GOOD: LIFE GOES ON

AT The time of writing this Chapter my age is nearing 75.  My utmost desire in the remaining part of my life is happiness.  This is my final wish.  I wanted to be free from stress to be happy. But there are events that would test our own choice… Thus, I think it is impossible to avoid stress, but you can be happy to think God still allows you to manage those stresses in life…  

The first EVENT was Supertyphoon Yolanda that struck the Philippines on November 8, 2013.  The typhoon was the strongest and the most ferocious typhoon in my 74+ years of living in this planet.  In Tacloban City and the municipalities of Palo and Tanauan of the province of Northern Leyte, houses were crumpled just like they were made of cartoons. Most of the houses were crushed and flattened to the ground. Thousands of people died. Many of the dead had been stuffed to high trees and roof-tops, while others were buried partly or wholly on beaches and low-lying areas. But very fortunately we have challenged the calamity and survived… like it was a miracle.

The story is almost like this.

The Philippine Atmospheric Geophysical Astronomical Services Administration (PAGASA) made it that Supertyphoon Yolanda would hit the Philippines and its target landfall is Eastern Visayas.  PAGASA had repeatedly warned everyone that the typhoon is very strong and dangerous with a wind velocity of greater than 300 kph that would easily uproot coconut trees and cause the sea water to rise 15 meters above sea level. People were scared to death. My children were frightened. I was worried. For the first time in my life, I felt unsafe to stay in my own house.  My family did not feel safe either with any of the government’s evacuation center. So, very early in the morning of November 7, 2013; instead of joining people to the evacuation center I went around Tacloban City together with my youngest daughter to get hotel reservations. But there was none. All hotel rooms were fully-occupied, including the least known ones. In the end, we decided to stay at the house of my sister-in-law thinking that it is safer than our old house. But I forgot that although the house is strong, it is not far from the sea with elevation not more than five meters above the sea level.

In the afternoon of that day, we left our house at V & G Subdivision. We were like having a long vacation, bringing along almost all valuables, deciding that we have to protect them because my house will not withstand the wind. Of course the house had already withstood several previous typhoons in the past which were less ferocious. We were billeted in the rooms-for-rent of my sister-in law. I occupied one room together with my wife, Carmen and my second to the eldest daughter, Marites. Adjacent to our room was the room of my eldest daughter, Mailyne with husband Armando (Bons) with their 12-year old son, Arys. Opposite to our room was the room of my youngest daughter Maridel with husband Gamaliel (Gams) and their 11-month old son, Niño. We thought we were very safe. Hence, during the night we slept soundly and never discussed of the coming supertyphoon. We never thought we will encounter the fury of a perfect typhoon. We did not imagine that a very traumatic experience was coming.

At about five o’clock in the morning of November 8, 2013 we were awaken by the roaring sound of the wind and the whipping of the branches of the trees on the rooms’ roof-top. The family of Mailyne rushed to our room. In a few minutes, Arys commented that the ceiling was vibrating. When I raised my eyes I saw that part of the ceiling was collapsing where Carmen and Marites were standing. I was surprised by my reflex action that I was able to parry the falling objects before they hit the heads of the women. Then, half of the roof-top of our room was blown away by the wind. We were in pandemonium. We panicked, I think. Some of us ran to the comfort room to heed Bons’ instruction. Arys hid below a table, may be remembering training at school. I tossed Laptops, bags, and other things on top of the bed, not thinking what purpose it will serve. Then, Bons shouted “water”. I sensed clear danger, so I commanded with all my voice for everyone to get out. Then, I placed a center table on the room’s door way to prevent the door from being lucked-up by the torrent. I shouted that they run to the second floor of the main building about 15 meters away.  But I doubted if they were listening because of panicky. I didn’t observe them leave in my efforts to open the door of Maridel and her family who had not joined with us so far.

The rising of the water was very fast. I kicked and pushed with all my might to open the door of Maridel’s room. But the door won’t open because of the pressure of the flood which was already a meter high. Moreover, debris was also pushing us away from the door making our efforts inutile. Then, Carmen pulled up a 2 x 3 inch lumber floating to dislodge the door. I helped her but I was pushed away by the strong current with the tables and chairs afloat. I shouted for Carmen’ help as I was drowning. But a security guard of a nearby RTW store who sheltered with us during the night pulled out the converging objects that I was able to free myself from the entanglement.

I noted that the flood water was already at the level of my breast. So, realizing that opening the door of Niño was already impossible, I shouted to the Security Guard; “Leave us alone, go and help the children." Then I said to Carmen; “There’s nothing we can do. Let’s leave them to God.”

“What about Niño, Maridel and Gamaliel? They should live instead of us!” Carmen shouted back, but her words were like whispers. I could sense she was totally in anguish and terrified.

“Miracle will save them.” I answered almost to myself. Then, I said: “Let’s climb up on the air-con.” With all my strength I pushed Carmen up to the protruding portion of the air-conditioning unit on the wall a meter away from us. Under normal condition it would be impossible for me to lift Carmen, she being heavier than me. But I did it so easily. Maybe it was the buoyancy of the water that made her light.

Standing on the top of the air-con, my head touches the edge of the roofing on the gutter, while water was on the level of my breast. So I thought that the water must not be less than eight meters deep. I held Carmen very tight because the metal we were standing on was slippery and we were holding without strong grip on the sharp edge of the GI sheet roofing, coupled with the flowing muddy water which was full of debris, the strong wind, and the heavy downpour. But out of nowhere, a big telecommunication wire swooped in front of us. I pulled the wire to test if it was fixed to somewhere rigid. It was strong. Then I said: “Let’s hold on to this wire until our rescuers will come. I have assumed Bons will find a way to help us, I thought loudly. But aside from trusting that rescue will come, I was hoping for God’s help. So, I shouted several times calling God and asking for His help… I said: “God… Lord… where are You? Please help us - especially the children.”

Then I saw a small jalousie window near the ceiling were the water level was at Maridel’s room. So, I thought of leaving Carmen where we were standing to go back and open the window, but I saw Gamaliel coming out from it, followed by Niño riding on an open huge garment bag and Maridel pushing it out the window. Then, in a few minutes, our rescuers materialized swimming just on time to receive Niño. As if with a hand of an expert, Bons inserted the child inside at the back of the Security Guard’s t-shirt and they swam back towards the big house. Meanwhile, Maridel and Gams were lucky to step on a peripheral concrete fence high enough that the flood water was just a little below their shoulders. They walk slowly following Niño while holding on the cyclone wire opposite us until they reached the end of the concrete scaffoldings which was eight meters to swim to the big house. Unfortunately, the duo does not know swimming. So I thought, they too have to wait for rescue.

I noted that it was extremely difficult for our rescuers to navigate with debris obstructing their way. Once, the guard carrying Niño lost his hold on the empty water jag that he uses as a lifeguard that he sunk a bit in the water with the little boy. It was good that Bons was right at their side to give a hand. Without a doubt the boy had drunk the murky water. Then, I lost my sight of them in the dark. The waiting for the return of our rescuers was long and unbearably stressful as it will signal Niño’s safety. But in about 20 minutes, they were back. I shouted to them with hand gestures that it is Maridel’s turn. I thought that Maridel should live to take care of Niño. I thought that we have only 50-50 chance of being saved. Time was really of an essence; we were becoming weaker because of the wind, the rain, and our being submerged in the flood. There was also the thought that the flood will still rise. The idea of swimming never occurred to me because I and Carmen do not know how to swim. But very fortunately, the wind had mellowed down and the early morning dawn had given us a little visibility. 

Thinking that my siblings are safe, I said to Carmen: “Let’s help save ourselves. In case our rescuers will be delayed and water will continue rising, we will try to float ourselves by holding on that cyclone wires hanging and move towards that concrete scaffoldings at our right.” Carmen responded that she can’t do it. This time she was already profusely trembling. But I jerked her shoulders very vigorously and said: “Yes, you can.” But she did not reply.

I waited for a while and noted that the water had not increased its level and it became less turbulent. So, I said to Carmen: “I think we will survive. Let’s meet our rescuers. Hold on to this cyclone wires, you will float and the current will push you towards them. Transfer your hands as your body is being pushed.” As Carmen started hesitantly to execute my instructions saying that she cannot do it, Gams appeared to help his mother-in-law. I followed them to the end of the concrete scaffoldings over a five-meter distance. It was a very difficult and treacherous execution because the way was full of obstructions and many of them had sharp edges. But at the end of the concrete scaffolding, were four steel bars protruding that we hold on while waiting for Bons and company. I did not feel my weight while hanging as I was lifted up by the water.  

Then, in about 20 minutes, our rescuers came back. Bons had a plank of wood in a frame-like about 0.40 of a meter by 3.5 meters. He was holding one end and trussing the other end lengthwise towards our direction, while the security guard come swimming towards us. Then, Bons shouted that the guard will help us one at a time to negotiate to reach the wood and he will pull it to bring us closer to the house. The distance from where we were hanging to the end of the wood was only about 5 meters. But I was aware of the danger and the difficulty.

We agreed that Carmen should go first. In the middle of the distance the security guard lost his grip of Carmen because she is bigger and heavier than him. But Carmen was able to grub a floating empty water jag that save her from drowning. After Carmen was my turn. It was easy for the guard to assist me. I know how to float in water and I am a little smaller than him. But the problem was, somewhere at the end of the way when I was about to release the wood to climb up on a concrete flower box leading to the stairs to the second floor, I was stuck up by an electric wire on the buckle of my belt. When I told Bons about my predicament as he shouted that I should move on, he pushed the wire with his right foot and simultaneously pushed me at my back. The impact of the push was so strong that I felt unbearable pain in my stomach and my back; but I was released from the entanglement.

Upon stepping on the part of the stairs without water, it was then that I felt so terribly exhausted that it seems my feet could not carry my weight upstairs. I stayed there for a while, but when I looked back, I saw Gams, Bons, and the guard coming out from the water. Then, when I looked up, I saw my wife, my children, and my grandchildren. The realization that my family is all accounted for made me forgot my exhaustion. I moved slowly holding my knees to give support. When I reached upstairs, I saw a very bad scene. About 50 people, not counting the small ones, who have come to take shelter in the house were wounded ranging from scratches to wide laceration. Others were half naked. Others were crying, while others were laughing and others staring blankly as if they were insane. All of them were chilling due to the cold wind and their wet bodies. My sister-in-law (Tessie) had to give out blankets, t-shirts, blouses, shorts and even under wears. She had also to give anything available from her medicine cabinet to treat the wounded. I thought she acted like a Good Samaritan. 

When I looked around, I saw houses flattened to the ground; cars hanging on top  of debris, and bodies of dead people unattended to. When I noticed Carmen crying profusely, I whispered to her: “All right, you can cry too. But we should be happy we are all alive. What else do you like? But you know, with this massive destruction of houses, be ready because it is a miracle if our house is still standing.”

It was understandable that all my co-survivors had stories of their own. One said she is the only one left in her family - her three children and husband were swift away by the wave. Another said he punched a hole in their ceiling to get out from their house and the three of the siblings floated on a piece of plywood. To make a long story short, they describe how they have survived, how their love ones were lost and how their houses were crumpled; roofs blown away and walls smashed into rubbles by the joint forces of the water and of the wind. Their stories were all destructions of human lives and properties that all the more made us all cry. 

The strong wind did not take long. But it was the water that kept us staying from where we were. We did not have breakfast and lunch. There was nothing to cook and it was even impossible to think of how to cook. But it was good there was mineral water to drink. When the water subsided to knee-level at about 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon, we decided to go home. We walked over a three-kilometer distance which took us about a couple of hours. The road was almost not passable with all kinds of debris including broken glasses and galvanized iron scattered here and there. We saw hundreds of people just seated on the road-side as if waiting for something to drop from the sky by the helicopters hovering over them. Many were chanting: “Food, give us food!” But I learned later that the whole day there never had been any relief-food.

If it was a miracle that we were saved from the typhoon surge, it was also a miracle that our house was only slightly damaged by the wind. The second story is all of light materials. The rafters, the purlins and all other members of the structures are of wood. The walls which were directly exposed to the wind are made of ½-inch plywood. But very little was damaged. The GI sheet roofing is intact. Only three pieces were blown away. The other parts of the building were undisturbed by the wind. And to think that our house is more than 20 years old is impossible not to be totally crushed by Yolanda when most houses in our subdivision were either severely or totally destroyed. As an Engineer, I cannot believe my house had survived. My neighbors said it is unbelievable. But I thought it’s a miracle. My wife said her request to Sr. Santo Niño and Mama Mary was granted.

Before going to bed in the evening, we discussed animatedly our individual encounters with Yolanda. In fact it was impossible to sleep that night. Mailyne said her group with Marites, Arys and a house helper were able to run and climb up the second story of the house just as the flood rush towards them. But it was Marites who had the bitter part. She was terrified that she could not move herself without the help of our house helper. I noted that she had a big wound on her right toe. When asked she said she had stepped on a broken glass. In spite that they were the first to come to a safe ground, it was them that had the most traumatic experience. Mailyne said their waiting to see us rescued was unbearable. They said it could not be avoided to think that we have drowned in the flood.

Maridel said she was weakened for banging on the door calling us, trying with all her might to open the door. But when part of the roofing of their room was blown away, she hid under the table with her baby to avoid the falling ceiling. Then, when the water had risen up to their neck, the three of them rode on the foam of their bed which had floated. She felt devastated thinking that the group has forgotten them. She thought that they will die. But God has a way of saving them. She said they have ridden on the mattress-foam of their bed that floated with the water up to a few inches from the ceiling where they saw a way to escape through the upper window jalousies. That is where I saw them coming out in the window, I thought. When I asked how was Niño during their ordeal, Gamaliel said: “The boy thought we were only playing. There was a time that I lost hope. I have stopped thinking and was no longer moving. As if I have given up. But when I saw my son smiled at me, I decided to do something to save him. So, I grub a floating bag, emptied its content and put him there. The bag was big enough for him and it freely floated. Then I broke the window glasses where we made our exit. It was good I happen to step on the air-con that supported me. Without it we should have not made it.”

“No, there was no more air-con. It was blown away before the flood.” Maridel insisted. But Gams insisted too that he stood on it, while Maridel was sure there was none. But I saw Gams like he was standing with the water level on his breast. I went back to the place early the following day and saw there was no more air-conditioning unit standing in its place. It was half buried in the mud inside the room. I told them my discovery and no one dared to say a word.  

Anyway, our family survived. I think it was by the hands of Somebody we cannot see but feel…

It’s been more than two years after the incident. I want to forget my encounter with Supertyphoon Yolanda. But maybe it’s too early that it is still impossible not to remember.  While we ought to be happy to remember we were spared by the calamity, I cannot help it that my thoughts whether asleep or awake, the trauma in my brain is preventing me to think and behave the way I use to be.  But, I am doing my best and praying very hard that sooner or later I will find solace in my being that life will be normal again.

The second major tragedy was my unbelievable vehicular accident.  On March 11, 2015 I and my wife had to accompany the family of my youngest daughter to Robinsons Place to entertain my youngest grandson, Niño who is a little boy.  It was my pleasure to be around not only to provide the wheels but also to deposit in a bank nearby.  Upon arrival at Robinsons Place, I told my wife to stay behind while I go somewhere at the other side of a national highway… But before I could cross the road, I did not know my mind went blank and as if my brain stopped working.  I did not know what happened.  I have no idea I almost lost my life because of a vehicular accident.  But according to my family, this is the story that I cannot explain…

I did not know that I was bumped by a pick-up while crossing at the national road from Robinsons Department Store to the other side of the national road.  But I cannot remember anything about the incident. It was my wife (Carmen) who related to me the incident…  She said when she was worried of my delayed return; she rushed outside and learned I had a vehicular accident.  People told her I rolled on the road like a runaway tire, but I looked alive when my rolling stopped and a Police brought me in their patrol car. My wife called my mobile phone and a policeman confirmed of my accident and that they brought me to the City hospital for treatment. I was still unconscious when my family transferred me to RTR Hospital; a bigger private hospital where I was confined for 3 days and had many check-ups. Surprisingly, I was sleeping most of the time, day and night.  I felt I was always drowsy, but I did not feel any pain.  On the third day, my doctor said: “Go home; I cannot even find a scratch in your skin and your City Scan does not show any fracture.” 

Honestly, I have no personal knowledge of my vehicular accident.  But the Police Report of the accident cannot be wrong.  Many of those who knew me said they heard the news about the incident on the local radio news. The driver who had caused the accident, who knows my youngest daughter even paid my hospital bills. And above all, my wife and my daughters said they picked me up from City Hospital using an ambulance and transferred me to RTR Hospital.  But surprisingly, why would I not know/fell the strong impact of the pick-up on my body.  And why would I not get a scratch on my hands/elbow or any part of my body when the story told I rolled on a concrete road.  So, my thinking up to now is: “It is an adventure into the unknown!  Or it is a play of my Scapular that I wore for a number of years that was lost during the incident?”

Many of my friends/relatives do not have explanation. They simply said it was an incident.  But my son-in-law Armando said:  “I am losing my memory due to old age”.   Maybe he was generalizing, but in my case it is not yet applying.  Thus, to satisfy myself, I have read books and search in the internet to find explanation to fit to my case. But I failed…  So, unable to understand of the above incident, I ask many learned people. But all their explanations were all about lapses in my memory. But at the end, they doubted of their own theory when I said: “How could I forget a very recent incident like the case I had?  Honestly, I think my brain is still serving me well the fact that I am still the Head Writer of Dissertation Writing Helpmate”….  I was ashamed of what I said; but I was proving I did not have lapses in memory.

The problem is “the disparity on my actual experience and the acceptable theory on memory lapses due to old age could not be reconciled.” But when I begun thinking aloud (jokingly or not) that it must be a play of the people’s spirits who died in the area during the Typhoon Yolanda incident, I recognize no one had disagreed so far; meaning they all agreed. So, I realized that if there is no scientific explanation of something, the easy option is to believe that; “there are things the human mind cannot explain.”

The major tragedies that the family experienced in 2019 were my prostate enlargement and Dydels’s breast operation. Fortunately, my prostate was benign and Dydel’s cancer is only stage 2 that her chemotherapy is positively progressing. God is Good.

Chapter 9

Epilogue

  It is now 2019… The best thing that had happened (and is still happening) to the family is God’s gift of unifying love, peaceful relationship, and good health.

Meanwhile, our eldest daughter Mailyne who married Armando “Bons” Corillo with a son Arys Joakim are residing in V&G, Phase 1. Our second daughter Marites decided to remain single blessedness and stays with Papa and Mama. Alan, our third child and only son who got married to Maricris with two sons; Adrian Kyle and Adriel Kirby are working and/or residing in Singapore. Maridel, our youngest daughter got married to Gamaliel Roy “Gams” Burgos. They are in the meantime renting a house just opposite our ancestral home in V&G, Phase 3 while their son, Lenard Daniel Niño is now four years old.  

Mailyne is operating a sari-sari store and Bons is managing his own rice land; while Arys is studying at STEFTI, now at senior high school with certificate of academic excellence with honors.

Marites is still connected with the Department of Public Works and Highways holding a permanent position which is exceedingly in demand; e.g. office regular function is paralyzed functioning in her absence.

Alan is still connected with a construction firm and his sons are studying in Singapore now in the senior high school. Both Alan and Maricris are connected in a hectic responsibilities that they could not find time to have vacation. However, just after typhoon Yolanda they visited us for a couple of days. Kyle and Kirby are playing in a school bond those champions in many international competitions which bring them to other countries.

Maridel is still with DILG and was promoted this year. Gams had decided to resign from DENR to take care of Niño personally.

My grandsons are doing well in everything they do. Hence, when they grow up we can expect they will be much better than their Lolo. (To be continued)