'sang pares ng tsinelas

Noong kabataan ko, nauso ang tsinelas na gawa sa alpombra. Ito yung tsinelas na parang mabalahibo at parang velvet yung material na ginamit sa paggawa kaya masarap at malambot sa paa. Ewan ko kung sadyang ganun ang design ng tsinelas na alpombra pero di ko ma-ekspleka sa sarili ko kung bakit ganun ang design nya. Ito yung tipong ok lang magkapalit ang kaliwa at kanan na pares kasi nga pareho lang ang design at hitsura. Hindi tulad ng karaniwang sapin sa paa – bakya, sapatos, sandalyas at iba pang uri ng tsinelas kung saan alam mo kung alin ang para sa kaliwang paa at kanang paa. Ang sa alpombra, hindi. Pwede mong pagpalit-palitin ng gamit at hindi mo mararamdaman ang pagkakaiba.



At dahil nakahiligan kong suotin ang mga tsinelas na hindi sakin at mas malaki pa sa sukat ng paa ko, minsan nakakapagsuot ako ng alpombrang tsinelas ng mga pinsan ko. Gusto ko kasi yung feeling na mabigat ang sapin sa paa. Parang musika sa tenga ko ang mayabang na ingay ng mga yabag sa sahig gawa ng alpombra sa tuwing ako’y maglalakad.



Sa panahon naman ng aking pagsibol sa kabataan, nauso ang makabagong uri ng tsinelas na tinawag na jelly flip flops. Ito yung may mga matitingkad na kulay ng pastel at may banayad na lambot sa paa. Dito na nauso ang paggamit ng tsinelas sa pagsisimba at pamamasyal sa mall.



Dumating ang impluwensyang Latino sa Pilipinas at napasok ang havaianas flip-flops. Unang sinuot ito sa harap ng telebisyon ni Bamboo habang tumutugtog sa isang concert. Si Heart Evangelista naman, dating Vj ng MYX, ay panatiko na rin ng havainas noong panahong yun.



Gahol sa oras mula sa isang taping, napilitan syang mag-tape ng live sa MYX habang nakasuot ng lace spaghetti strap dress na diumano’y pantulog nya at ng havainas. Dahil wala ng panahon para mag-ayos ng at magpalit, tuoly lang ang live shoot. Dito sumikat ang paggamit ng tsinelas bilang pamalit sa sapatos bilang bagong dagdag sa fashion style ng kabataang Pinoy. Naging malakas ang impluwensya ng Brazilian product na ito na parehong mga estudyante at yuppies ang gumagamit sa mga lakaran at sa araw-araw na gawain , liban na lang sa mga pormal na okasyon.




Sino ba naman ang hindi mahuhumaling sa tsinelas. Ako man ay may apat na pares ng tsinelas na pambahay. Kung praktikalidad lang ang pag-uusapan, panalo na ito. Ito ay madaling isuot at presko sa paa at madaling ibagay sa maraming klase ng damit.




Pero iba ang turing ng namayapang lolo ko sa tsinelas. Nang mauso daw ang tsinelas ng kapanahunan nya ay laking biyaya daw ito kumpara sa hirap at bigat ng bakyang noo’y nasa kasikatan pa. Ngunit para sa kanya, ang tsinelas raw ay para sa bahay lamang. At hindi ito nararapat isuot kung lalabas ng bahay dahil ang mga lakaran sa labas ng bahay ay tungkulin na ng sapatos, o kahit ng mga sandalyas man lang. Espesyal daw kasi ang dulot sa mga pagal na paa ng tsinelas.




Dagdag pa ng lolo ko, ang pag-ibig daw ay parang ganun. Parang isang malambot na pares ng tsinelas sa bahay. Oo nga at ito ay pambahay lang ngunit ito ang pinakaunang hinahanap pag-uwi mo sa bahay upang magbigay ng ibang uri ng ginhawa sa paa.



Ang tsinelas tulad din ng taong tunay mong minamahal ay naghihintay lang sa bahay. Ngunit gaano man kapayak o kasalimuot ang mga pangyayari sa buong araw mo, gaano man kagaganda, kagagwapo o kahali-halina ng mga taong nakilala mo, iisa at iisa lang ang pilit mong uuwian at hahanap-hanapin pag-uwi mo.



Ang pag-ibig habang tumatagal, lalong lumalalim at pinagtitibay ng panahon. Tulad ng ‘sang pares ng tsinelas, habang ginagamit, lalong lumalambot, lalong nagiging maginhawa sa paa.



Ang pagmamahal sa isang tao, sa pagdaan ng panahon ay nagiging isang pamilyar na emosyon na kayang matukoy mula sa iba pang pakiramdam ng tao – galit, pagkamuhi, lungkot, saya’t tuwa, ligaya o maging ng karaniwang libog lang. Tulad ng ‘sang pares ng tsinelas, sa pagdaan ng mga araw at gabi, linggo’t buwan, o maging ng taon ay nagiging isang pamilyar na bahagi na ito ng paa. May kakaibang hagod sa balat at alam ng nagmamay-ari ang pakiramdam ng kanyang tsinelas. Alam nya ang malakutson o magaspang na mga bahagi ng tsinelas nya, ipikit man ang kanyang mga mata. Maging sa dilim.



Mahalo man ang kanyang pares ng tsinelas sa isang kumpol ng mga tsinelas, o mahiwalay ang isang bahagi, alam nya kung saan ito hahanapin ng walang pag-aalala. Tulad ng tunay at dalisay na pag-ibig, babalik at babalik ito sa tunay na kasuyong puso.




Iba-iba man ang turing na bawat tao sa kung anumang uri ng tsinelas ang susuotin nya, tanging sya lang ang may alam kung alin ang magbibigay sa kanya ng kakaibang ginhawa sa paa mula sa buong araw na pagkakabilanggo sa sapatos.



At pag nagkataon, kapag nahanap mo na ang pares ng tsinelas na para sa’yo, wala ng dahilan upang maglakad ng nakayapak sa malamig na sahig. Wala ng rason upang manghiram sa iba. Wala na.

waray taytol

akon pagbabataktasan an lima ka-tuig
naton tipakadto ha Magsaysay
pagpapahanginan ha Balyuan,
pagpapahungawan ha may haruhagdanan.
iyawat la bisan lima ka-oras
mahingalimtan ka kadaliay.

ako

Hindi ako mahirap maging ka-close. In fact ako na yata ang pinaka-friendly na tao sa buong Tacloban City. Pwedeng iba-iba ang basa ng tao sa bawat isa satin kasi nga may tinatawag na individual differences. At habang kino-consider mo ang basic principles sa Psychology 101 about Indiviual Differences, bayaan mong i-enumerate ko sa inyo ang mga mumunting bagay-bagay about sa'kin.



Siyempre sasabihin mong weh anu naman kong ganun ako, hihinto ba ang global warming effect sa mundo kung isaulo nyo ang enumeration ko? Ewan ko. Malay natin. Malay mo may gift akong 'divine intervention". Hehe.




Basahin na nga lang kasi.



1. I sleep on prone position. I know it is weird and unconventional but it is just how I keep my slumber. At consistent yan. The same position buong gabi. Kaya madalas pag gising ko, parang may konting stiff neck ako. Hehe.



2. I love ice cream. Trip ko syang palaman sa tinapay. Hindi nga, totoo! Kung food worship ng iba ang ice cream lalo na sa mga depress-depresan, ako naman iba. ke depressed ako o hindi eh talagang fanatic ako sa ice cream! E sa masarap syang palaman eh, bakit ba?

Ang normal na pagkain ng ice cream ay pagnamnam nito sa loob ng bibig habang nagpipiyesta ang mga taste buds mo hanggang matunaw patungong lalamunan. Pero ako, trip ko yung pakiramdam na kinakagat mo ang tinapay at sumasabog ang tamis, lasa at lamig sa ngipin mo hanggang gilagid. wala lang. jina-justify ko lang.



3. I have an unusual bathroom ritual lalo na pag napopopo ako. Before I take the royal seat, binubuksan ko ng tamang-tama lang ang shower at pati ang lavatory, syempre naka-cover naman, hanggang mapuno na sya at umapaw. Saka palang ako uupo sa royal bowl. At take note, I don’t sit. I squat on it at ipinagmamalaki ko yan. Nothing fancy I know. I just feel comfortable on that position. Feeling ko mas malakas ako at mas sigurado ang buwelo in case masyadong malaki ang lalabas na sorpresa. Try nyo lang.



4. Mas feel ko pag umuulan. Hindi naman sa pawisin ako at hate ko ang mangamoy daing sa ilalim ng araw, mas gusto ko lang ang ambon at mga pabugso-bugsong ulan kasi nagkakaroon ako ng legitimate reasons na isuot ang mga jacket ko. hahahah. ang selfish di ba! eh syempre lampas sandosena na yata ang jacket ko, yung iba may hood, yung iba wala. ang nakakainis lang kasi minsan ang gang-gana kong magbihis kasi alam kong umaambon. alam mo yung feeling na ang sarap buksan ang drawer mo at kunyari i-scan mo ang nakahanger mong mga jacket para makapili. at tapos habang nakasakay ka na sa multicab o kaya sa tricycle papuntang trabaho, at feel mong magmalaki sa mga katabi at kaharap mo sa sasakyan na 'well, anu kayo. mabasa kayo ngayon sa ambon at mamatay sa lamig dahil ako ang ganda ko at prepared ako". tapos biglang mahahawi ang mga nangingitim na ulap at liliwanag ang kalangitan. parang sa commercial ng sprite dati. yung may linyang 'anu ang gaagwin mo?' hehehe.


eh bakit ba. fashion saver din naman ang jacket kasi it can easily complement one plain T-shirt or top at bongga na ang porma mo bigla. pero syempre, i may be stubborn sometimes pero hindi pinangarap malitson sa init para lang pangatawanan ang pormang jaket ko. heheh.


i still love the rain. mas senti ang mood at mas feel kong magsulat, magbasa at makalikot ng mga articrafts ko.i love the rain. kaya love din ako ng mga farmers sa bukid.



5. trip kong iprito ang paksiw, isda man o baboy. sabi ng nanay ko, habang pinagbubuntis nya ko, nakahiligan nyang lumamon ng pritong isda. pero sa pinya at sa dalandan talaga ako pinaglihi. kaya mataas ang dosage ko sa tamis-asim ng pinyang Ormoc at dalandan. at nangangasim-laway ako habang sinusulat ko ito.


masarap talaga ang prito. minsan nga imbyerna ang mga kasama ko sa staff house kasi deadma ako sa ulam na niluto ni Manang kesahodang calderetang baka yan o calamares na dinosaur dahil ang hinahanap ng bibig ko ay ang simpleng pritong isda lamang. tapos ako pa daw ang pinaka maarte sa ming lahat. Ewan!



6. mahilig ako sa kape. actually, understatement yan kasi ADIK ako sa kape. sa umaga, hindi ako makakain ng breakfast kung wala pang kapeng dumadaloy sa lalamunan ko. ke alas onse ng umaga na ko magising at lunch break na ang topic ng mga kasama ko sa bahay.


and when I am compelled to go about with my activity for the day kahit wala pang kape, pagsapit ng alas tres para na akong bangag na aso na hindi mapakali at makapag decide kung sa pader o sa gulong ng kotse ba iihi.alam mo yun? i just can't do without coffee.


may sarili akong timpla. pasintabi sa 'think tank' ng mga coffee companies pero talagang wa epek sakin ang mga 3-in-1 chuva na mga ganyan. Mas gusto kong ako lang ang magtitimpla ng sarili kong combination ng kape, cream at sugar. gusto ko yung lasa na nag-aagaw yung pait ng kape, linamnam ng cream at tamis ng asukal. at syempre dahil exxaaaddddjjjjj ang coffee ko, hate na ulit ako nga tao sa mesa.


na-try ko na rin pag haluin ang Ovaltine at kape. O kaya Milo at kape.Sinubukan ko na din ang tableya, cacao powder, at kape...minsan din tinutunaw ko ang choknat sa kape.wala lang, so far buhay pa ako. at sinasabi ko sa inyo, masarap sya. iba sa mga kapeng nilalantakan ko at ng mga friends ko sa Jose Karlo, sa Bo's o kaya sa Gloria Jeans.


siguro ganun talaga ang kalakaran anu. sarili mo lang ang makakaintindi sa mga gusto at sa mga hindi mo gusto, sa mga craving mo, wierd man o kahit abnormal, and when you meet people will be able to understand all these peculiar stuff about you eh plus na lang yun.

salamat

i chanced with this poem today from an old,old file in the desktop. i thought it is still mushy till now though I penned it exactly two July years ago. i think one beautiful side of writing a poem is that one gets to both express and impress genuine feelings through it despite broken thoughts and broken sentences. oftentimes, it just does not make sense to the alien reader anymore but however means heaven and earth to the one who wrote it.

yes, hearts' day is over i know but i am posting it because i just love to. nothing more, nothing less. i guess there will be no other valid reason than just that. lol.

and to you, wherever you are now, thank you. thank you.

Thank you..

sa lahat ng ginagawa mo para sa akin

sa pagiintindi sa mga sumpong ko

sa pagbibigay ng mga yakap na totoo

sa pgluluto mo ng arrozcaldo

sa pagtatanong kung ok lang ako.

Thank you..

dahil naging matapang ako

dahil sabi mo iba ako sa lahat ng nakilala mo

dahil ramdam ko ang pag aalaga mo

dahil alam kong totoo ang pagmamahal mo.

Thank you..

kahit hindi ako perpekto, mahalaga ako sa'yo

kahit kaya mong mgloko, pinipili mo pa ring hindi

kahit mahirap at walang kasiguraduhan tayo

nakikipusta ka sa pagbabakasakaling tayo nga sa huli.

kahit minsan may duda tayo.

Thank you..

hindi man lubos

hindi man talos

hindi man akma

ngunit ito ang paraan na alam ko

at ito ang totoo: i love you.

23 July 2007

An Pagsurat

“Kinahanglan ko magsurat para makayakan.”


Sangtop ako hit kamatuoran nga dire sugad kasimple iton disiplina hiton pagsurat. Waray ako pormal nga pagturun-an hin pagsurat amu dire ako sigurado kun iton akon mga ginsurat, ginhuhuman pagsurat ngan iton akon mga igsusurat buwas magsusubay hiton mga displina ha pagsurat hiton mga kamag-araman.

Madali magsurat kun pagsurat la iton paghihimangrawan pero sayod ako nga an pagsurat hin mga barasahon ngan ideya nga magpapahimulos hin bag-o nga mga iristoryahun ngan mag-aabre hiton himuok nga hunahuna hiton kadam-an ngan magbibilin hin bag-o o kun dire man kakaiba nga panlantaw ha kinabuhi an mas makuri nga dapit han pagsurat.

Signgon pa han usa nga kamag-araman, kun diin nakikipagpuniti pa ako hit kalag hit iya libro agud mahuman ko na pagbasa ha ungara nga ha katapusan nga paypay niya, ugsa ko ipahuram liwat ha iba nga gingigidkan magsurat, iton pinaka makuri nga dapit hiton puniti hiton nagsusurat ngan hiton kagawasan hiton iya igsusurat amu an dapit kun diin nakaatubang ha iya nawong iton blanko nga busag na papel samtang naghuhulat masuratan hin kun anuman.

Ha sungpay pa nga kabahin, kun usa man nga puniti iton pagsurat, an pagdarag-an han nagsusurat dire ginsusukol ha kabug-usan han iya artikulo o siday o short story ngan kun anu ini kahusay ngan anu karasa kaunon iton kada linya hin ideya ini may-ada, lugod para hin sugad ha akon nga dire pa hamtong an kinaadman ngan nag-aambisyon pa la mag-surat, karuyag ko huna-hunaon nga an padarag-an hin usa nga mahusay nga sinurat ngan nagsusurat in ginsusukol tikang han mga kapait ngan katam-is han mga ideya nga sumulod ha iya huna-huna ngan dayon nag-aaragaway ha sulod han iya utok para asihon han nagsusurat agud amu an maging pangulo nga emosyon ha pagtikang han artikulo. Dinhi na nga dapit masulod an ikaduha nga pahutnga-ay hin kusog han nagsusurat ngan iya ginsusurat, amu nga an mga emosyon han kapait, katam-is, kahangit, kakuri, kalipay ngan kagawasan ngan kadaugan o kun an pagdurungan hini nga tanan man amu an tinikangan han pagsukol tubtob ha kun anuman iton masupsop nga ideya hiton magbabasa hini nga sinurat amu an suklanan.

Karuyag kun mag-aro hin pasaylo ha mga kamag-araman nga nagpukaw ha akon tikan ha akon himuok nga katurog ngan padayon nga nagiging surok hit akon ambisyon kun dire ko maakos tagan hin hustisya ini nga akon mga ungara, sugad kan Prof. Merlie Alunan, usa nga bag-o nga crush ko ha UPVTC, kan Voltaire Oyzon nga nagbilin ha akon hin girhang ha bitiis ngan ha bayhon hadto pa tikan han akon mabasahan an iya *siday ha UP Vista ngan kan Makabenta, author hin usa ka diksyunaryo nga Waray, kun diin naghatag ha akon hin ideya nga marisyo, kumplikado ngan makaruruyag igsurusalakot iton diyalekto nga Waraynon.

Dire ako hanas magsurat. Pero karuyag ko magsurat kay karuyag ko magyakan.

Writers' Stigma

Most of those in the know call it writer’s stigma. It is when the writer hibernates on his penchant towards writing. It is the sudden stagnation of a writer about scrutinizing the creative side of every situation and the sloth-like ceasing from collecting concrete ideas from both the simplest of things to the myriad of many other thingamajigs yet unexplained by the naked brain.
I cannot call myself a writer per se so that when I stagnated from scribbling ambitious words in this blog spot since I impulsively created this a year ago, I cannot be accused of a writer’s stigma. Instead, I would prefer to call myself a rebel who chose to shy myself away from the maddened crowd so that I may be able to search my thoughts well and good. But let me just put it on the record that when I hibernated for quite sometime, I was out in the killing field. It was a tumultuous battle fighting my own demons. I fought a good fight.


But what makes a prolific writer and effective writing come into unison? Is it purely about narrating into beautiful words all the fancies of this life, both the good and the ugly? Is it taking into account all the misadventures of man and making the record indelible enough so that all information is understood and learned by the readers? Is it about looming ideas carefully so that it ends up into an intricate piece of cloth of lofty-minded essay? I remember a senior communication arts student from UP Tacloban Campus during the event of their short film festival having been awarded as best director aptly said that once the article, essay, poem or a short film is out in the open ready to be devoured by the public, the author loses control over his piece of art. No matter how wonderful it was written, it is inevitable that it will be perceived differently by the audience. Thus lies the responsibility of understanding the essence of the artwork in the hands of the beholder, or the readers for that matter. In the shortcomings of the audience, any piece of art suffers.

It also speaks the same about this page. While I am caught in the limbo of issues about being guilty of a writer’s dilemma and the indecisiveness whether I keep this page limited to my personal journal of misadventures, demons may care, or must I keep this simply as a photo blog where literary bouts are supported with relevant, if not journalistic photos at that, I remain steadfast with my Zafra-ish obligation of being accountable with my storytelling.



I’m not a prolific writer. Or at least, I cannot qualify to be hailed like one just yet. Neither am I your typical yuppy photo blogger. I am not even close to being an online poet con lensman. But in the trials of times when one must rise up from his sloth and defy the odds against those who have slapped the cheek of the weak or in the event that tact is more powerful than truth but prudence argues with sobriety, then I can let loose of my own leash so that I become, nonetheless, the rebel that I am.

"From The Apple Of Your Eyes"

My family moved from the country to seek better fortune in the city back in 1985. I was 5 years old then. And until now, it is still customary for my family to watch the Pintados Festival Parade during the city fiesta come end of June. Though in my growing up years, I have chosen a rather boisterous and free – spirited company to watch the parade with now that I am old enough to verbalize my choices with friends, issues to argue about and even acting out my very personal endeavors. Just like my fancied adolescent years in the city, the Pintados Festival would always showcase the best that the region could offer championing the historic and colorful culture and its humble beginnings. It keeps getting grandiose and much more festive every year, thus, tourists both foreign and local alike would grace the festival with beautiful words of review to bring home.

Indelible sights and sounds had been documented to my memory as to how the slow but precise paces of development had changed the city by the bay through the years. Tacloban does not tail behind the queue of national candidates for urban progress. And the leaders who sat the local government seats could only profess to have done so much good for the city and for its people caught in the limbo called urban poor.

There used to be a slum community surrounding DYVL radio station called Rimas Colon. I had elementary grade classmates who used to live there. And following the layman’s definition of a slum area as a place of none- permanent settlers with no valid address, let alone a sane system of human waste disposal then at least I will not be vindicated of being unpragmatic about my choices of words. I could very well describe a slum area coz I used to live in one too. And there was also a Muslim mosque amidst the small houses and humbled shanties where our Muslim brothers, who have settled to Tacloban City, worship their own divinity. Perhaps, just like my family, they also sought for a better life in the city.

Exactly two years ago, that area was cleared out to make way for an amusement venue for the local folks. And as far as the comprehensive plans of the city is concerned, a baywalk park will be built along the serene Cancabato bay line in such a way that a walk from Balyuan Tower, now towerless, to the recently opened Tacloban Convention Center will become a leisurely saunter. Only the radio station remained when the families were moved to a resettlement area at the city outskirts.

The erstwhile mayoral administration of Bejo Romualdez was bombarded with repercussions from the local media men and self-confessed political analysts (READ: mga paragsuson) alike before there was a clean and spacious bus terminal along Maharlika Highway and an efficient shuttle service from the terminal to the heart of the city courtesy of these neon green multicabs ; a two- storey public market reviewed as less – unhygienic, at least, compared to the former; a beautified Rizal Park and the proud Tacloban Convention Center, a first of its kind in the city and will soon become a landmark in the region. In its effect, new establishments and commercial buildings started to mushroom. The thrive of the student populace from all over the region to the city colleges and universities became evident. The same administration saw the realization of a privatized solid waste management and the more systematic electric cooperative thus resulted to well- lit streets, highways and main thoroughfares secured from unwanted menace. The community folks also became up and about with the community- based medical, dental and social services in a mobile operation called barangayan and still many other city ordinances that aimed to promote the welfare of the happy Taclobanons.

During this year’s festival parade, floats of private establishments and some government offices also joined the busy streets merrymaking. The FM Romualdez convoy of high-end cars and buses, while the infamous former campaign jingle was playing in the air, were donned in colorful tarpaulins bearing the Congressman’s wide-smiled face greeting “Happy Fiesta Taclobanon… from the apple of your eyes, Cong. FM Romualdez and Family.” The convoy drew more attention as the hired men threw away Fuji apples to the parade spectators. But of course, who would not be delighted to such unique freebies. It was a rather much favored gimmick from the usual flyers and leaflets and or candies thrown away from the float as goodies during the parade. Well, sardines are also a treat in the previous years.

Far from the maddening crowd, I couldn’t help but notice the group of people busily and frantically following the solon’s float for the closer chance of catching the apples it almost resembled that of the zealots during the Feast of the Black Nazarene. Among them was this forty-something man whom I particularly kept my fancy with. His worn-out slippers revealed his cracked and calloused heels that might have told me his meager job requires rigorous walking every single day. He wore a stained white sando and a pair of faded corduroy pants and a knap-sack in his back bulging with apples he had literally won in the catching match over the others. His wrists were adorned with colored rubber bracelets, another fad freebies given during the previous election campaign. Etched in the rubber bracelets were names of now elected senators and a certain partylist. He kept a perfect proximity from the float like a hungry hound, toungue- out panting, waiting for a tender piece of meat.

Such sarcasm. It tore my idealistic heart to see the common tao, whose mandate to elect his leaders to the highest form of government is as sacred as the Constitution, begged for apples like alms and cursed the man atop the float every time an apple failed the grip of his soiled sweaty hands. Such irony knowing the fact that the sanctity of one man’s vote was peddled for 200 Php one fateful night before the election day. Likened to a cautious thief through the night, he waited for midnight to fall and thus received the cold cash discreetly from the disclosed precinct leaders of the Apple Man and other characters of Ninja Turtles and even from members of the uncanny X-men. Rates are varied depending on the source. But I was inclined to believe then that rates were pre-determined to equate the amount of his basic human right. I cried in silence.

I abhorred the idea as to how the men atop the float played sarcastically with the crowds’ taking chances with the imported fruit. Taclobanons do not grow apple trees in their backyards, and the fact that money is hard to come by these days, why would they not just grab their chances right there and then.

To many, it was part of the merrymaking because it was the city fiesta after all. To some idealistic few, it was a mockery full of taunting to the preceding floats of the Department of Tourism promoting the rich and unique culture of the region, including the ways of its diversified people, whether they had apples on their hands or none. To that man of my fancy, whose unwavering gusto was remarkable, his story was one I knew of so well.

Perhaps, he had 12 children and the apples in his swollen bag would not suffice just yet so that he was following the mob faithfully for more. Perhaps, it was his self-proclaimed day-off from his blue collared job and took full advantage of the idea of selling the catch for his family’s meal for the day. Perhaps, it was his own understanding of the Romualdezes gratefulness for having been elected to the office again, because he was one of those who voted for them. Or perhaps, there were unfathomed reasons I for one may never fully understand.

If that picture depicted a thousand of stories, then here is one: that man who sold his vote obliviously is the same man who owned the knapsack full of apples. Such a preposterous fate for a man who had the power to select his leaders he could have hoped for to bring him to a productive society.

If the government would only be truly sincere about eradicating poverty and carrying out instead the people’s best interest, then perhaps no ethnic minorities would settle from city to city to seek for a pasture that rightfully belongs to them. Perhaps no families would leave the countryside to seek opportunities in the densely populated sub-urban. Perhaps no man will swallow his pride and mock his own self with an apple without actually knowing it.

02 july 2007
* This article was written following the Pintados-Kasadyaan Parade of 2007, the first city fiesta after the 2007 National Election.