Thursday, September 20, 2007

FEBRUARY 2007 - OF LOVING ANG LONGING

The issue of the great misunderstanding of the New Year refuses to die down. The poor telecommunications in Kosrae refuse to buckle down. The signals from different communication systems among the Filipino community continue to carry the buzz. Yes, it’s the buzz that the 3 telecommunication systems in the Philippines are said to be actively operating in Kosrae – Smart, Globe and Sun Cellular. The stories are very reminiscent of Lino Brocka’s Insiang, Ora Pronobis and Maynila sa Kuko ng Liwanag. Of course, if you are very familiar with the backdrop scenes of Relasyon, Pagdating sa Dulo and Broken Marriage movies of Ishmael Bernal wherein gossips are part of the Filipino life landscape, you would just smile and nod your head. So the saga continues.


Valentine’s Day –

Valentine’s Day is such a silent day in Kosrae. They never celebrate it. But because of the fact that we long for our love ones during this day when you are far from them, we find it more doubly important to remember people we love on this day.

Death Anniversary

The death anniversary of my mother falls on the month of February. And thus, I feel the angst of pain during this month. Who would not anyway? I can always remember my mother as a hard working woman who helped my father through life by being a dressmaker at the outset but she eventually became best cook of native rice cakes in the province. She oversaw the education of her children by her skills in rice cake making. I can always remember bringing bags of puto and kutsinta to my school and earn my days’ allowance by selling rice cakes. They call me “magpuputo”. That’s why whenever I cook all these stuff: puto, kutsinta, tikoy, bibingka, suman, nilatikan and pilipit, I will always remember my mother. She does them so good that I believe I can never even equal her cooking skills. I will always remember my mother when I prepare tocino, longganisa, embutido, rellenong bangus and chicken galatina . I never mastered her recipe for morcon and lumpiang shanghai. She cooks lumpiang shanghai so tastefully that even the local Chinese restaurant wanted her to be a cook in their establishment.

To continue the task more, I always remember my mother who never blocked my ambition to become a doctor. Even when my teachers told me you can not become a doctor without lots of money. My mother tempered herself and just said, if that is your dream, reach out for that dream. She supported me all throughout the ordeal in reaching and making that dream a reality. When all others were having difficulties in the college of medicine – both financially and academically, I was cloistered from the financial difficulty because I was enrolled in a school that did not only give me the best of medical skills but also the best of medical knowledge in the Philippines. I was on a scholarship at the University of the Philippines and was therefore, losing hair and eyebrows studying and taking examinations after examinations in the hallowed halls where great men and women in the medical field in the country came about. How I’d wish my mother took the same path that I did. Because whenever we were sick, she was our doctor, our nurse and the relieving person all rolled into one. Her fears were etched on her face. And the love that emanates from that face is nothing that can be compared when we talk of that love. I have always wished that mother with her innate intelligence should have continued her education. But my grandfather came from the school of antiquity – that women are for the house; and that men should do the studying because they are the providers for their family. Unfortunately, of the 5 men in the brood of 11, only one managed to get an education and went to the United States and never looked backed. On the other hand, of the 6 women, only had a college education because she defied my grandfather’s wished. Unfortunately, that woman was not mother. She dutifully obeyed and eventually she dutifully took care of the aging people during her time.

My mother never wavered. She believe in her son who when he was 3 years old was stricken by polio. And of course, during the 60’s, polio is a dreadful disease that could lead to paralysis of the lower extremities. She took her son to all doctors whom he could hear might give a cure. With faith in God and faith in man, his son’s polio was considered the abortive type and miraculously survived the ordeal. Her son underwent rehabilitation therapy and although showed atrophy of the lower extremities have become functional and went on to reap honors for the family. Who would ever thought that the “tikling” – (tikling is a bird that has very thin legs and walk in a very gyrating manner) would grow into a quite enormous entity (big bellied and fat, I will not call myself obese because there are more people fatter than I am).

It was also my mother who amply reminded me of what commitment to take. Her question to me when I became a full-pledged doctor was: “Are you also leaving just like what your cousin did?” I was clearly stunned. I wanted to explore more. I wanted to expand my wings. I wanted to bring about change in myself. I wanted to bring about change in the family.

Little did I know that the values of compassion, idealism, empathy and kindness instilled by this woman in me during my formative years would be the same values that I would use in making a decision for myself?

What now was my question? Am I going to join the bandwagon and add to the brain drain of my country? I decided to enlist in a volunteer program of the government. I became a country doctor deep into the forests of Balbalan, Kalinga-Apayao. I have enjoyed the life of the country. I have enjoyed the people with their simplicity. I thought I had found the meaning of medical service through these people. I thought this is it.

But life has its own convolutions and trials. My mother got sick. And I decided to stay with the family. I went into surgery training. As I went deeper into my training, my mother’s condition slowly deteriorated. The tell-tale signs of Chronic Arteriosclerotic Brain Dementia are beginning to show. After my fellowship in Bologna, Italy in Hepatobiliary and Pancreatic Surgery in 1996, I decided to go back to the country and serve in my province La Union. I went into private practice and joined the academe. While being part of service to patients, I was also being part in the molding of young people’s mind through paramedical education. In a sense I was fulfilling the prophecy of my mother.

One of the signs that mother’s dementia was starting to rear its ugly head is when she starts to cook rice cakes and forgetting to put sugar in it. Slowly, my mother lost her memory. She started to call me his brother. She started to fear herself. The once beautiful Miss Yuletide Aringay when she was still 18 years of age was slowly wasting away physically. As my mother’s condition progressively deteriorated, I started fearing that dejection might come into my father. But I saw my father doing his caring acts. I have never seen my father so overly demonstrative but during the last years of my mother. My father showed how much he loved my mother and that matters most. Eventually, my mother succumbed on February 21, 2005 to Chronic Arteriosclerotic Brain Dementia.

On this second year death anniversary of my mother, JULIANA QUIROS MALLARI, I came across a song written by National Artists Lucio San Pedro and Levi Celerio , Sa Ugoy ng Duyan. It is a very touching song about the longing for our mother’s love. I translated it to English. I know the English translation may not be equal to the lyricism of the original song, but here’s my take for I have always thought of writing a piece for my demised mother but never had the chance. Now finally, I have written one. I miss you my dear mother. May you enjoy the gift of eternal peace and love. Here is the translation of the song:

AS THE CRADLE SWINGS
(Lucio San Pedro/Levi Celerio)


I
I hope my younger days will still be around
I long for the days as a child in my mother’s care
How I miss the songs of my beloved mother
Her songs of love while I was being cradled to sleep


II
I hope my younger days will still be around
I long for the days as a child in my mother’s care
How I miss the songs of my beloved mother
Her songs of love while I was being cradled to sleep

III
In my deep slumber
I am being guarded by a bright star
This star is my sentinel
In my mother’s bosom
Life is heaven
So that when my heart is nursing a wound
I long for the cradle of my mother that rocks me to sleep

IV
I hope my younger days will still be around
I long for the days as a child in my mother’s care
How I miss the songs of my beloved mother
Her songs of love while I was being cradled to sleep

V
In my deep slumber
I am being guarded by a bright star
This star is my sentinel
In my mother’s bosom
Life is heaven
So that when my heart is nursing a wound
I long for the cradle of my mother that rocks me to sleep

VI
I hope my younger days will still be around
I long for the days as a child in my mother’s care
How I miss the songs of my beloved mother
Her songs of love while I was being cradled to sleep
(Her songs of love while I was being cradled to sleep)
O I want to sleep in my former cradle where mother rocks me
O my mother

Sunday, September 16, 2007

JANUARY 2007 - OF WORK, FRIENDS AND THE SPARKS OF THE NEW YEAR


It is almost nine months and the lazy bone did me in. I have not etched even a little bit. I have posted something about the declaration of independence last June but in reality that thing was just a copy paste affair. It does not have anything to do with my literary itch. I would have wanted to do a lot of writings for this blog but I just could not find the zest and vigor to do just that. But today I am confronted of a day in my life that made me stopped a bit – ponder and look into what had happened to me in the last nine months. I have been amiss of my blog and when I was writing the things that happened to me, streams of consciousness and memories of the months just come flowing in. I would like therefore to chronicle them to you as the months pass by. And here they are:


Upon Arrival:

After I have arrived in Kosrae, I just felt like I am not ready to do anything yet. But work was ready for me. Upon my arrival, I have to see patients referred to me at once. I did my own triaging. Which of these patients need attention first? Which of these patients need attention the least? The feeling of wariness and unreadiness started to wear off. I coasted along and got immersed with work. What is it that we get to do but to work and work and get numbed in the process? We may never want to get the melancholia that goes with the coming New Year most especially if you are leaving love ones behind. We really need to move on.



The Failure of Communication:

I was the most surprised when I got a visit in the house from “former” friends. I was glad they gave me a visit because it is about time to discuss issues that have not been elucidated upon. To put it succinctly, these used to be friends have been wondering why there was a sudden gap among us. I explained fully well and I thought they have understood what had transpired in the past. I told them that what happened in the past should be buried in the memory box and thus be part of an experience in learning. That as I have said to them, we really need to move forward and when confronted with the person of their concern, they should let bygones be bygones. The understanding was so clear and yet……….


It is such a pity that some people prefer to wallow in the dark recesses of their own suspicions – preferring to give their own versions of their own stories. Convoluted it may seem, they accept it as their own biblical truth. They prefer to believe the second hand stories that have undergone processing and details and truth have been mangled to suit the purveyor of bad tidings. Kosrae is such a small island. And the Filipino community is such a very small minority. And we expect that news caused by wagging tongues would reach the recipients of ill will. The intent has become poison and has clouded the judgment of both protagonist and antagonists carrying in the process other people.


The problem of a misunderstanding that stem from tittle-tattle of the great magnitude is that it gets to involve a lot of people in a manner of speaking. And these people have their own version of the truth. And the question now is? Who is telling the real truth?


I have been the center of brickbats of these couple. I was accused of ferreting out narratives that were allegedly not true. I feel exhausted by their implications. I feel betrayed of their friendship. And I feel insulted by their outright arrogance. But my take for this matter is that I will stand my ground. It is because I own the real story. I know the real truth will come out. (Which it did!!! This is another story anyway!!!)



On an Arriving Friend:

The arrival of Vannie in the island is a welcome respite. Vannie is my designer-dressmaker friend in the Philippines. He will be going to work with the Charley’s in their Malem Tailoring Shop. Although Vannie’s specialty is that of high fashion dresses, he is going to make a pitch for the local women’s clothes line here in Kosrae. Will he eventually adapt to the different fashion sense of the islanders? Well, let us see…….