Arrival in Bulacan

06 December 2006


Location: Poblacion, Sta. Maria, Bulacan, PHILIPPINES

Composition: Impromptu - recalling things from a month ago




Bocaue was a crowded place when we arrived that late afternoon of the 6th of December. It was three weeks before Christmas and people were already buying their Christmas and New Years' fireworks in this Philippine Capital of the paputok (fireworks) retail industry (production happens all over Bulacan).


As we made our way past the heavy traffic, towards Sta. Maria, it greeted me:




Looming above my head, it announced a Welcome I had missed during the night of my arrival. Am I really in Sta. Maria? I wondered to myself.

The ridiculously congested narrow roads told me I probably wasn't - I imagine such heavy traffic and human density in places closer to Metro Manila like Meycauayan, Malabon and Novaliches. But not in my hometown.

And besides, I was just here a week prior, I thought. It certainly didn't look like this! Were there really this many business establishments? Were there really this much new housing last week?

But I was, undeniably, in MY Sta. Maria.

The first 14 waking hours I had spent the week prior wasn't even enough to familiarize myself with the place to notice all the changes, let alone adjust to the things that had changed in the near decade that I had been gone.

For the second time, I was being overwhelmed by the things in my hometown.

The moment I exited NLEX at Pampanga and sped towards the Ilocos Region, I got used to the thought that in 10 years, things don't change much. In Santa, things have remained more or less the same - parts of Vigan in fact have been that way since the 1500's.

But in Sta. Maria, things HAVE changed.

My adjustment period officially began during this time.

Goodbye Santa, Ilocos Sur
06 December, 2006


Location: Poblacion, Sta. Maria, Bulacan, PHILIPPINES

Composition: Recalling something from a month ago with the help of some notes.



I left sooner than I wanted.

I was planning on staying for at least a few weeks to enjoy the locale. But an impending cold, an incident with a local siga, and a promise to meet a nice girl in Bulacan made me decide to catch a ride back to the Tagalog Region with Tito Boy and John Paul the very next day after the burial.

As you drive towards the South, towards Metro Manila, one of the last things you'll see of Santa is the Cemetery.

"O, busina, Pol!" (Giver her a beep, Paul) Tito Boy prompted J.P.

beep!beep!
A farewell honk.


"That's it?" I remarked loudly, but to no one in particular.

An ever so slight uncomfortable silence followed.

A contrast to the first few kilometres where Tito Boy was ranting about some dispute.




"Langya din, ano," (Think about it, eh) Tito Boy mused- breaking the silence, "Kararating mo lang para sa mahabang bakasyon tapos nakipaglibing ka agad kay Lola 'yo" (You just arrived for your long vacation, and the first thing you did was to attend Lola's funeral)

I nodded.

"Your trip," Tito Boy continued in English, "will be very memorable for so many reasons."



Indeed.



Related Flickr Photos

The Burial
05 December, 2006


Location: Poblacion, Sta. Maria, Bulacan, PHILIPPINES

Composition: Impromptu - recalling events from a month ago.




I woke up at dawn with what could very well be the whole of Santa already milling about my grandparents' place. They were being served tea, coffee, biscuits, and pandesal (breakfast bread), by the househelps and volunteers - who in between making sure the guests were comfortable, were already preparing a post-burial feast.

I put on the only black long-sleeved dress shirt, and the only non blue jeans that I managed to pack.

The funeral procession was going to depart no sooner than 0700. First stop, the Santa Parish Church for a final service. And then, Santa's cemetery, where Lola will be placed right beside Lolo.

Outside a horse-drawn carriage was already awaiting the white metal casket containing Lola's remains.

A few more moments later, the band that was going to lead the whole procession arrived and began playing the loudest, most off-key, musical rendition of funeral procession-worthy ballads.

During a lull in their performance, I requested a theme from the Godfather movie, "Speak Softly Love". Despite the absence of strings, and despite their terrible rendition of other songs, the strictly wind and percussion band made this one sound relatively alright.

All this - the food being served, the loud band playing music, and all the people socializing - made me feel as if I were in a fiesta as opposed to a funeral.

And I rather liked it. Just me I guess. I mean, if I were the one lying in a casket, I wouldn't want to see anyone cry over me - I'd want them to have a grand time. Serve them good food. Play loud music to them. Make them feel great when they see me off so that they may associate my departure with a festive atmosphere.

But then Tito Pete pulled me aside and remarked, "Is ALL this needed?"

"I don't think," he continued, "that my mother needs all this to gain entry to heaven. A loud off-key band, a fancy carriage - none of these are necessary. Aren't her good deeds enough?"

He continued by telling me how for his late wife, my Tita Grace, he had the simplest and most solemn of gatherings.

He finished by saying, "I told my sister, your mother, about this and she replied, 'That's the tradition!'. But to heck with tradition I say. It's time we looked at these things and see how ridiculous it is to have a party at a funeral."

I wanted to disagree with him. I wanted to tell him that, I think, funerals are more for the living than for the dead. And if those still alive wish to honour whoever it is who has died in any way they wanted to, then so be it - if it eases their mourning that way, then so be it.

Instead, I just said, "We think alike".

A lie? Nay. An omission.

I thought the very same thing, but on a different occasion.

That day he questioned the need for a feast and a band. The day before I questioned the need to say prayers from a script monotonously and repetitively - as if all that was needed to convince God to take in Lola. Also, at the same time, I respect where he's coming from. Being the eldest son, he just wanted quiet reflection and silent prayers for his Mother.

The procession from the house to the Church went without any incident - save for the confusion on when everyone was going to mount the vehicles to save them from walking the full distance (about 5 km). The service was, again, in the Ilocano dialect.

From the Church, it was just another kilometer or so to the cemetery.

This cemetery is no exclusive 'Memorial Garden' of sorts - it is instead, just the town cemetery - but it has to have one of the most beautiful views ever. To the east the mountains serve as a tombstone for everyone who has it as a final resting place. And to the west the sea and its secrets disappear into the horizon

After returning to the house, while everyone enjoyed the lunch feast provided, I snapped this photo in the mango orchard just behind the house.

Related Flickr Photos

Home Service
Funeral Service at home
04 December, 2006


Location: Poblacion, Sta. Maria, Bulacan, PHILIPPINES

Composition: written the night after the fact, but written in present tense to simulate a play by play analyis.



I think the lead is talking about my arrival now and how providence guided things so that at least, I'll be seeing my grandmother off. I think they're talking about how mom desperately wants to come, but wouldn't be able to - and that at least I'm here.

I think.

The service is in the Ilocano dialect, I'm still sweating Gin, and my stomach and sense of balance are still all haywire from last night. I didn't eat anything all morning because I couldn't hold anything down.

I feel like crap. I only understand a few words here and there, and I don't know what's going on.

We stand up.

They pause to read off of a booklet of a prayer for funeral services.

We sit down.

They say Hail Marys, Our Fathers and other prayers.

Then we stand up again.

I want to go have a shower - and by 'shower' I actually mean splash myself with water from a wash bucket with a smaller handbucket. Showers don't exist here.

I think I over-bonded with my Uncles - and by bonded I mean got totally wasted with.

We sit down again and listen to the lead say more things. I think they're talking about Tito Pete's arrival now. Or maybe how Lola is now off to join Lolo.

I think that's what they're saying.

My mind drifts back and forth from the topics discussed last night. I almost pass out from the heat and humidity of a few tens of people crammed inside the living room with stone walls.

Out of respect I stick it out. For my Mom, I manage to snap a few photos.
But I really, really want to go elsewhere.

I sit with the crowd. I stand with the crowd. I try and mouth off the Ilocano prayers being said by the crowd.

I pretend to listen to the lead's words.

This? This repetitive praying and scripted program is supposed to facilitate my grandmother's entry to heaven?

Then they let my Mom's brothers speak. Finally, I thought.

But they also say their eulogies in Ilocano. Having very little understanding of the words being spoken, I suddenly remembered from "The Alchemist" a very lovely thought.

Instead of trying to understand the words that you're hearing, listen instead for the emotions and you might just hear the Universal Language of the World.

I did, and the words disappeared as the meaning and the weight of their intentions became apparent from the intonation and body language.

"bye mom"



Related Flickr Photos

An Impromptu Reunion at a Funeral
03 December, 2006

Location: Poblacion, Sta. Maria, Bulacan, PHILIPPINES

Composition: Impromptu - recalling something from a month ago, with the help of some notes

After shopping for supplies at the town of Bantay, I returned to find that my Tito "Pete" Pedro Bueno had arrived along with Loy, his third son. As well, more of my Mom's cousins - all of them hailing from all over the map - had arrived to pay respects to their departed Auntie Ninay.

Even an aunt from my Father's side, Tita Catalina Gulinao-Gallardo came to visit from nearby La Union when she heard that my last remaining grandparent had departed.

Later in the evening, a reunion catalyzed out of the gin, beer, basi and caldingen pulutan.

I had to get in on it of course! But not just to partake in the consumption of the glorious and sweet basi (sugarcane wine), or the tasty calderetang calding (a type of richly sauced dish) and papaitan (bitter soup) but also to connect and bond with my Uncles.

And for good reason.

Out of the whole table occupied by my barakong Titos, I only recognized three other ones in addition to my Mom's brothers: Tito Heling (Rogelio Cardenas), Rizal Santa's Barangay Captain; my Mom's cousin through Lola Ninay, my Tito Nanding (Atty. Fernando Gose); and the Mayor of Santa, my mom's cousin through Lolo Luis, Tito Popoy (Jesus Bueno jr.) . To the others, introductions were necessary, for either I have only met them in passing once, or I was only meeting them for the very first time.

Just like what Tito Pete said, "Nothing brings people together more than a wake or a funeral. And this gathering of my cousins- your Uncles- cannot happen in another occasion. Weddings, christenings.. you can just send your deepest regards. But funerals and wakes: People - Asians especially, tend to make it an obligation to attend..."

If in some small way, I managed to gain a deeper understanding of the legacy of one's life whilst playing stand in for my mother to greet those extending their condolences, this too - a Pinoy Inuman borne out of a wake - was another good tool in understanding my place. ...where I stand, and where I'm going.

"She is also the last of her generation," Tito Nanding remarked when it was revealed that Lola Ninay was also my last grandparent.

He added: "Ubos na ang lahat ng mga Tatay at Nanay namin. Susunod, kami naman" (Our parents are all dead. The ones going to follow afterwards would be us, our generation)

That they were musing about their mortality, also made me think of my own. When a grandparent dies, especially one that you have been expecting to give in sooner or later, you don't tend to feel too much sorrow and mourning. I mean, to be frank, I didn't. Most of my regrets consisted of thinking how sad it was that my Mom wouldn't be able to see her own mother off.

If my parent's generation is next, then in due time, I too will be next.

Sorry if it's morbid, but I guess that's life - we're all going to die sometime. So it goes.

Related Flickr Photos

Related Flickr Photos 2

Related Flickr Photos 3

Related Flickr Photos 4

Related Flickr Photos 5

...and again in Santa

after visiting Vigan.

02 December, 2006

Location: Poblacion, Sta. Maria, Bulacan, PHILIPPINES
Composition: Impromptu

I returned to the Bueno house to see that my Tito Boy's wife, Tita Tess, and their youngest son, Jared, had arrived by Bus.

Later in the afternoon, Uncle Heling took me to Santa's Parish Church to settle some things for the upcoming funeral service.

Having just come from Vigan, you'd think that I wouldn't be as impressed with downtown Santa, Ilocos Sur. While Calle Crisologo in Vigan is restored and preserved to Heritage preservation standards, downtown Santa is a mish mash of old and new.

Of this blending of old and new, there is no better example than Santa's Parish Church.

This church probably dates from as far back as Santa's settlement. From its basic architechture of utilizing massive arched columns, it is very apparent that the foundations are at least hundreds of years old.

Yet the exterior and the interior were finished in modern masonary concrete and coloured with perhaps the latest and greatest of latex enamels. As well, the overpowering Ten Commandments adorning the entrance (written in the Ilocano dialect), and the external bell tower were obviously finished and cast in concrete.

Although at least the bells were preserved.

Ivan Henares would be aghast at this travesty.

And I agree - if I could have seen Santa's Parish Church in full Colonial era glory, I probably would have more appreciation for it. If I were to see it in its natural-pre modernized beauty, I might like it more.

But at the same time I felt this: That things in downtown Santa look the way they do without any concessions to preservation. If somehow some things, to this day, look like they did from centuries ago, it is because they have endured even the demands for progress. And in a way, I appreciated the things I saw more. Moreso than Vigan? Perhaps. Dont' get me wrong, I really liked my first visit to Vigan in a decade, but seeing Santa made me realize certain things I didn't notice when I was walking down Calle Crisologo.

In Vigan, the Calesas (horse drawn carriages) invite you on a tour to the year 1521 for a fee. But almost all the establishments you pass are souvenir shops tended by very eager sales people inviting you to come in and have a look. And outside the preserved streets, Vigan hustled and bustled towards modernization like any other city.

Contrivances and Simulations that approximate the past in order to attract tourism somehow left a bland aftertaste to my Vigan visit - and a much deeper appreciation once again for my Mom's hometown.

Related Flickr Photos

Related Flickr Photos 2

Related Flickr Photos 3

Vigan in the Afternoon

02 December, 2006


Location: Poblacion, Sta. Maria, Bulacan, PHILIPPINES

Composition: Impromptu




To get to Vigan City from the town of Santa, you must first cross the Abra River through the very beautiful and very scenic Quirino bridge in the Barangay of Banaoang.















In a word, the view here is spectacular. I took these in-car photos on the Santa side overlooking the town of Bantay - the other town that borders Santa with the Abra River.

Whilst in Vigan, we took the obligatory tourist shots. I frankly have no poetic or philosophical remarks I can write regarding this short visit to this Provincial Capital, this World Heritage Site. Any words just wouldn't do this magnificent ancient treasure of Ilocos Sur justice.

The photos and the enthusiasm I show in them should speak the thousands of words I could write about what its like being around streets and buildings dating as far back as the 1500's.

Now, if you look at these photos and got the impression that I was saying "Great!" "Fabulous!" "Awesome" "Cool" and "Fantastic!" then they did their job.

On the way back, we took a few more shots on the scenic Quirino Bridge.









Related Flickr Photos