My Hometown: Review
Monday, June 22, 2009
Like any community that thrives from the bounty of the sea, my hometown is a as sleepy and as laidback as can be.
Noontime wives and their house-helps huddle at water pumps or stations – doing the laundry or giving baths to their sun-kissed kids.
Afternoons when kids are lulling at siesta, we see fishermen and their wives mending fishnets or untangling fishlines together under the shade of a coconut plantation or an ancient shady tree.
At dusks we walk the rugged cow-paths down the shore to wait for our fishermen. There we partake in a hodgepodge of communal activities or rituals or masquerades - depending on one’s preference which seemed almost dictated by one’s age-group. There were parlor games, moon or fire dances, courtships or romantic charades, and yes, as was the wont of superstitious islanders, there were divinations or fortune-telling.
But that was all in the eighties before the onslaught of foreign investors had commenced back in early nineties.
From then on, an exodus has taken place at such a frightening pace. While elders chose to stay behind, the rest of us, children, or younger ones have all set our sails westward in our quest for big city dreams.
Today, our village seems to have waken up to the call of technology and modernization. Thanks to foreigners mail-ordering our women-folks who oddly enough have chosen the island as their retreat or retirement spot of choice. What is it about beaches and the tropics that interest the oldish set?
But still it is not without the occasional rousings from the singsong pitches of our fishermen’s wives and the squalls of sea in stormy months.
*From Wikipedia: The Spaniards called Siquijor Isla del Fuego or “Island of Fire,” because the island gave off an eerie glow. This glow came from the great swarms of fireflies that harbored in the numerous molave trees on the island. The island was first sighted by the Spaniards in 1565 during Miguel López de Legaspi's expedition. Since then, the island came under Spanish rule and the present municipalities, with the exception of Enrique Villanueva were established as Catholic parishes. The first parish, Siquijor, was established in 1783 under the administration of secular clergymen. In the years that followed until 1877, the parishes of Larena (Cano-an), Lazi (Tigbawan), San Juan (Makalipay), and Maria (Cangmeniac) were founded by priests of the Augustinian, Recollects. From 1854 to 1892, the island was administered by Spain under the politico-military province of Bohol. In 1892, it became a part of Negros Oriental, and then its sub-province in 1901.
More on Siquijor Island’sHistory, Terrain, Tourism, etc.
What If
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Stumbled into this and thought it was funny.
A woman had to cancel her wedding after discovering that her husband-to-be was a secret porn star.
They met at the woman's work place and introduced himself as a personal trainer. After eight weeks, they decided to tie the knot.
Meanwhile the woman's friend was scouring through the dotcoms for a stripper to hire for the bride-to-be's bachelorette party.
So okay, this is the part where you fill me in on the rest.
Oh darn. I need to change my other job now. LOL!
"This Writer's Women"
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
When I wrote the above creative nonfiction a couple of years back, and posted it rather hesitantly late on Gather, "American Idol for thinkers" according to Times, I never expected it to amount to anything other than the seething truth that it will have to revolve around my mother, and my mother's mother.
Zoom in to present: a couple of weeks ago, I received a notice from the admin of Story of My Life, another fave cyber-hangout, announcing that there was going to be a Mother's Day Storytelling Contest.
I went why not?, afterall the story which I originally intended to be the beginning parts (three pieces all and which I summarily called "This Writer's Women" only temporarily for the contest) of a bigger writing project has had its day; and, that by the look of things, it seems as if my story and I have both bumped into some dead end at the moment...
Enough said.
The collective word is that the piece shows promise.
Now this. (But, let me hyperventilate first.)
Okay, here we go..."This Writer's Women" bagged second prize. (For the official announcement, click here.) And was featured on the Story of My Life's Mother's Day Special presentation.
What's truly amazing with this particular episode involving Story of My Life, through Miss Kristen Kuhns, my discoverer, is that they had to break their own rule for me: they gave me and my mother the Polaroid Compact i-series Digital camera (grand prize) instead of the chocolates, the declared prize for the second placers.
Huh, deal with that!
Anyway, here's a note to my mother: Yes, Ma, it's the very same story that had reduced some of the family members to pathetic cry-babies when they found out that my biography is not anywhere near Anne Hathaway's "Princess Diaries". Anyhow, the award-giving body will send me by post a Certificate for winning, and also one Certificate of Appreciation each for you and your mother.
Of course, Happy Mother's Day to you, Virginia, and to your mother, Rosalina.
The same goes out to the rest of the best, and heck, worst, if there are any such mothers in this world.
