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Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Poetry

(The Language of the Soul Expressed)

The most moving poem conveys of joys and feelings of grief profound; the most sublime tells of values and heroism; the most ridiculous needs yet to be found…
Poems cover as much as anything there is in life as it speaks of happiness and humor; pains and pathos in sufferings; wonders and discoveries; death and birth; creation and destruction… even dreams and realities. Some meanings are obvious in the words but often

Sunday, June 13, 2010

KURBA

At Brgy. BOLONG in the municipality of Santa Barbara, Iloilo is a curved segment of the railroad tracks which residents call the kurba or curve.

Here’s the popular version on why the tracks were so constructed:

During the construction of the Iloilo-Capiz railroad in the 1900’s, an enchanted Salay tree happened to stand in the way where the tracks were to be constructed.  Workmen refused to cut the tree and did not even go near it.  It came to a point when the construction engineers had to decide on what to do with the obstruction.  They went to the site and as they neared the tree, a strange old man appeared and told them not to violate his “kingdom.”

The engineers could not do otherwise but offered to compensate the impending disturbance and told the man that the railroad company was willing to pay a large amount just to have the construction pushed through. In retort, the strange man told them that he was not in need of money as he had enough of it—enough even to buy the whole of America itself! 

And so the enchanted tree was spared.  The railroad tracks were constructed some distance from it.  Instead of the usual straight line, the railway company made a curved one.

With the demise of the Panay Railways, the official version of how the kurba came about may never be known.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Poloy

In either of his hands was a missing finger which his enemies said was the result of an accident during World War II.  He had nine instead of ten.  His detractors said that a Garand rifle he was carrying went off because he was carrying it as if it were a walking cane.  It blew one of his fingers off.  But it gained him an entitlement to a veteran’s pension for the rest of his life.

Sometime in the 1970’s at around 8:00 in the evening, he came knocking at a relative’s house in Santa Barbara.  He had bruises on his face and other parts of his body.  He had walked cross country all the way from Alimodian because he was so afraid that the Mayor will again maul or even kill him.  He was trembling in fear.

Upon opening the gate, his relative was so surprised by what he saw.  About 25 years ago, this guy was a feared man.  He was a gun-carrying member of an armed group that presented themselves as gerilyeros in the war against the Japanese.  Instead of fighting the enemy, this group went around commandeering properties, animals, bull carts, and valuables from kababayans for their own personal benefit.  Not contented with that—it was said that they took women too.  That is what many people said about Poloy.

On Sundays, Poloy would go to the cockfights.  Yes, there were cockfights even when there was war!  He would bet on his favored cock signaling with his two hands.  If he won, it is expected that the losing bettor would pay him ten pesos.  But if he lost, expect him to only pay nine pesos.  Why?  Because he will insist that the other bettor look closely at his hand and count carefully his fingers—for he will immediately learn that he has just nine of it.  Waay pagturuka kon pira tudlo ko hay.  (You don’t look to see how many fingers I have.)

If Poloy wins, he makes sure that he gets the ten pesos.  He says: Intiendido du da nga pulo pusta ko hay tanan nga tudlo ubos ko bayaw! (That is supposed to be understood as ten pesos because I had all my fingers raised!)  If the losing bettor fails to pay him his ten pesos, he gets threatened with the ever available Garand rifle that Poloy always carried. 

Now, here is this character—so afraid, trembling, and smelling like a prisoner.  He had been beaten black and blue.  Seeking refuge for the night, he was let in and he was served supper.  His relative’s house was near the main road so that the noise of passing vehicles could be heard.  This made Poloy very uneasy and he would tiptoe to the nearest window and steal a look at the gate whenever he heard a stopping vehicle.  He needed to see if there is somebody entering to get him.

Life had come full circle for Poloy that night.  No, I wouldn’t dare to mention his full name, where he now lives, or the name of his relative where he took refuge.  I am just sharing this story for the reader to have a glimpse of what the pre-martial law elections were.  The bruises that he had were not for what he did during the last war.  It was the result of his supporting the candidate the Mayor was running against.  Go ask your fathers or grandfathers about the 1969 elections.  If they say its bloodier then than now, believe them.