In the Philippines, the number one cause of death is heart disease. It is followed by vascular systems diseases. Both diseases are caused by the dramatic changes in the blood vessels and the blood flow which are attributed to the peculiarities of modern living - sedentary lifestyle, smoking, cholesterol-laden food, smoking, alcohol, stress, etc.
Gone were the days when people died of old age. In fact, the olds of long ago were possibly happy to die because, in their later years, their great great grandchildren (3g) were afraid to get near them because they (the 3g) thought the olds were so old they were like maranhig (vernacular for living dead).
Long ago in our impoverished barangay, if people didn't die of old age, they died of hiwit, inaswang, or gored to death by the pet carabao. Old people in our barangay have not heard of cancer, pheumonia, AIDS, or dengue. In the absence of doctors, surhanos diagnosed all the illneses. If somebody trembled uncontrollably, or if painful lumps appeared on a person's body, it was hiwit. If somebody suddenly fell down and died, it was the work of an evil spirit.
Back to the title of this post.
It was only last August when klasmeyt Premee succumbed to stroke.
December 5, another klasmeyt, Edgardo A was laid to rest. He died due to MI (myocardial infarction) or heart attack. Another one bites the dust.
Klasmeyt Edgardo A was a seaman. He had a non-fatal attack while their ship was in the US of A and was hospitalized in California. After awhile, he was cleared by his doctors and was allowed to leave for the Philippines. He arrived in Manila, alive and well, as he pushed his trolley of luggage to his waiting wife. He was as physically normal as anyone in the crowd. But a few days after he arrived and while seeking more medical tests, he suffered another heart attack and died. Even while in grief, his family was thankful that, at least, he had gone home and stayed with his loved ones even just for a few days before he breathed his last. He is survived by his wife Vilma T of CNCHS Class 73, and his three children.
I didn't remember Edgardo. In fact I went over the decaying high school graduation souvenir program just to verify that he was a klasmeyt. And, indeed, his name was listed in Section 6, together with Premee who also died recently, Zari V who is into the funeral parlor business, and Herman L who, based on his Facebook photos, is destined to become a maranhig.
As the torchbearer of my class (torchbearer is defined by http://www.yourdictionary.com as a person who brings enlightenment, truth, etc.; or an inspirational leader, as in some movement . Haay, I think this should be a subject of another post. Torchbearer ako is just himo-himo ko lang. Just to console myself for being actually the driver, errand boy, gina-utangan, pala-utwasan sang sakit-buot, and just somebody who is supposed to be there no matter what when needed by my klasmeyts. I still can't nudge the grudge of a klasmeyt who thought I should have visited and given him abuloy when his mother died even if at that time my own mother was also seriously ill and later died in the hospital.), I looked for the address of Edgar. When informed that the wake was in Landheights Subdivision, I scoured three subdivisions with the name Landheights along the hi-way going to Leganes, because to my horror there was not just one Landheights. But I didn't find any wake in these subdivisions. It was late in the afternoon. It was so hot and I was so hungry and I had this great urge to pee. So I called some people to help me with the right address. At last, I arrived at Edgardo's and Vilma's residence where the wake was held, in Landheights in Balabago, a 180 degree compass turn from where I originally headed. I saw Edgardo's tarp photo. Yes I remembered him as one of those older klasmeyts in hi school. I then gave the mass card bearing the name of my Class, which seemed so cheap compared to the amount I used for mobile calls to locate the address. And I was not adding my gasoline expenses yet. I was the only visitor and Vilma and her family were so accomodating. We talked about Edgardo, his life and his death. We forgot about the time. Then other mourners I didn't knew arrived. I asked to leave so the family can fully attend to the visitors.
It was a short and easy drive from Landheights Balabago to the hi-way going to Jaro. But in the hi-way, traffic was bumper to bumper. I was irritated. Then I saw the letchon-manok stands. And I remembered I was still very hungry. My conversation with Vilma was just so animated I forgot to eat in the wake. Then I also realized my bladder was just at bursting point. Yes I also forgot to pee in Edgardo's house. And the traffic was getting worse. And with all the chaos building within and around me, I remembered my klasmeyts who never even bothered to remember me when my mother died. Of course, many came, emailed, phoned or texted me. But still others just didn't bother. And I could imagine my klasmeyts playing with their apos, doing overtime in tong-itan, or gossiping with the neighbors. While I was in the middle of the traffic - alone, hungry and about to pee - because I thought it was my duty to give my last respects in the name of the Class to all klasmeyts or their parents who have gone ahead. 'Bro, puso mo!', I imagined the traffic police to remind me.
Then, out of the blue, my car stereo blared that old music by the British rock band Queen.
'Steve walks warily down the street with the brim pulled way down low
Ain't no sound but the sound of his feet, machine gun's ready to go
Are you ready? Hey, are you ready for this?
Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?
Out of the doorway the bullets rip to the sound of the beat, Yeah
Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust....'
Not this time, I thought.
@
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Another one bites the dust
Saturday, November 27, 2010
The Psst! Group
Most often I call my classmates Manong or Manang, or Iyay for obvious reasons. Now I call them the Psst! Group. Psst! is not an acronym for a deadly group of suicide bombers (similar to the TBS 13 or True Brown Style 13, a fraternity of youngsters in Iloilo who, as part of their initiation, are allegedly killing taxi drivers after taking their cash collections), nor a pseudo society of souls who are fond of looking back to their past because the only future they can look forward to is their bleak retirement. I don't even refer to the popular meaning of Psst as Practice Safe Sex Today. Many of my classmates regard sex as a verb in the past tense. Never associated with Today. Period. If you get my drift.
But going back to Psst!
Some members of the Psst! Group. Taken after the last rites for the late wife of Ernie C. at Forest Lake Memorial Park, Manduriao, Iloilo City, Nov 27, 2010.
I call this group Psst! because when they hear somebody say Psst! they will automatically turn their heads to the source of the sound. And even if the first time, the second time and the nth time they discover that the Psst! is intended for somebody else, yet the next time they hear another 'Psst!' they will still turn their heads towards the sound, unmindful of their previous experience. Parang di na natuto. Haven't they heard about the boy who cried 'Wolf!'?
Will somebody lecture this group about Classical Conditioning or the theories of Pavlov and Skinner? Over a can of maram-an?
Pero, with all the shortcomings, I still look forward to meeting my classmates and the banters that I share with them. Daw nami gid man mag-estorya kang mga nagreligad. Because… come on, can I talk about the stock market with these people? So we talked about our past.
The few times that my classmates would meet, we really make the occasion special. Even if we just huddle for a few minutes with not even a plate of peanuts or butong pakwan in sight. We talk of the days we were classmates in high school, our antics and ambitions then, and our lives now as bread winners, some as doting lolos and lolas, and a few as still coy virgins who remained untouched (kuno) and unmarried in their menopausal years.
Frankly, I sometimes am embarrassed to call my classmates ‘Klasmeyts’ especially in front of my kids. Because - I have to be tactless – they just looked so old as in mal-am gid. Of course, they are still not legally senior citizens. But when left on their own, they would chatter the whole day about their apos, their arthritis and other ailments, the pang-tuition of their college-age children and other financial woes, or the witches or aswangs who happened to be their in-laws. Will somebody tell these people to have a life? Come on. You talk of these topics with a maram-an on hand. And you share buyo, bunga, and other sangkap with the mal-am you are talking with. Try to eavesdrop on the yuppies. Are these the topics they are talking about?
Well, in one of our talks, they mentioned some familiar names.
We had some klasmeyts in high school, according to them, who didn’t allow anyone to copy their answers during exams. Mga dalok gid. They covered their answers as if these were for their eyes only. They folded the top portion of their answer sheets over the items they were answering and they stooped low over their papers so nobody would see what they were writing. As if they were really sure that their answers were right. Their answers were like their panties – they had to pull their skirts down so nobody could have an idea of the color, or if they even wore panties. But look where these dalok nga mga klasmeyts are now. Daw wala man asenso sa pangabuhi. They are not as successful professionally as those merely copying answers during exams. Agto ka sa balay nanda, baw grabe agwanta mo nga para indi ka mangihi. Kay hadlok kaw mag-agto sa anda CR. Basi indi lang toko sa dingding ang makita mo. Mayad pa mangihi sa baid kudal.
And this klasmeyt nga seaman – kapitan sa barko. He was so embarrassed when his son saw his board exam rating. His rating was gakabit nga daw wasay. But he regained his composure. He told his son, ‘Look at your mother. Grabe kataas ang board exam niya. But her 1-year salary is much less than my 1-month salary.’
And that klasmeyt who, when everybody was asked by the school nurse to bring individual stool specimen to school for laboratory analysis, he brought a big Nescafe bottle filled to the brim with his stool. And he was proud to show his loot before the class. Our teacher shrieked and ran fast out of the classroom as if she saw a scary monster.
And that klasmeyt who was so dumb in Math she only memorized the multiplication table for 1's. 1 x 1 = 1. 1 x 2 = 2. 1 x 3 = 3. And so on. Tapos na ang klase di pa nya mamemorize ang 2's.
And that teacher who was so motherly outside, but a terror inside the classroom. Kapila niya ginbunggo sa blackboard ang ulo ni dumb klasmeyt in Math. This teacher's behavior may lead to dismissal and a criminal case now. But during our time, teachers could be so despotic and physically cruel.
At times, the topic became personal. The target of the ribbing is usually the klasmeyt na laon or spinster. Why are there spinsters? Nobody courted them? Males statistically fewer than females? And the spinster answered back, by choice naman daw ang kanyang pagiging laon. Meaning, ginusto nya. Talaga? Inspite of the pocket books with lots of pasaring sa mga pangyayari sa kama? Inspite of the boys who talk dirty na dapat lang pakuluan ang mga bunganga? Inspite of the TV shows na PG pero standard ang torrid kissing scenes ni bidang lalaki and a retinue of female characters in different stages of undress?
Then the question: 'Ti, waay gid ti guwapo ikaw nga nakita?'
And the answer: 'Ay raku nga guwapo eh. Pero ang gusto nanda indi ti guwapa, kundi guwapo man.'
I remembered our spinster neighbor. She was beautiful, fair, kutis porselana. She was my bordmeyt when I was in college. She was at that time working as a salesgirl. Long after I was already working, I heard that she died of breast cancer. But before that, she usually passes in front of our house and took notice of my nieces. Many times, while playing with my nieces, she would just cry so loud, complaining that she had no children of her own to take care of her as she was already diagnosed with cancer. When reminded that she had many nephews and nieces, she would complain that the kids were only good to her if she had money. Possibly, if she could only turn back the hands of time, she would have asked any tambay, sikad driver, or kargador to impregnate her just so she would have a biological child to accompany her during her cancer years. Or nagpangamang siya kang ana mga bordmeyt para lang magbusong. But she was so suplada and picky when she was still young.
And the banters and recollections continue. Daw kang san-o lang. Psst! Ti, may sugpon o dugang kamo?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
RIP Premee
Mosac called me last night. She mentioned a name of a classmate which I didn't recognize. She said the classmate died in Guam where he lived and worked; and that the wake was in their ancestral house in Bgy. Tabucan. I went over the yellowing pages of the high school commencement program which Haydee (now residing in the US) entrusted to me, before she returned to the US. His name was there but I still couldn't put a face to the name. I don't remember him at all.
Later, I learned that the classmate was popularly known as Premee. He died after a massive stroke. He left behind his wife; and a son from a previous relationship.
I bought the usual mass card, to carry the name of the CNCHS Class, and went to their house after lunch today. I was with my sister, as she was also a classmate of Premee's younger sister.
I met his wife, his sister, and a brother - all just arrived from the US. And I saw his happy picture. But I still could not recognize him. He looked old. He couldn't be a classmate. But later, his sister explained that he stayed in high school longer than anyone.
Then they mentioned he was once a jeepney driver when he was in the Philippines. His father was based in Guam and his family was comparatively well-off. He was driving their family-owned PUJ.
Then I remembered there was once a chinky-eyed driver who was always smiling and happy. And popular with the beautiful lady passengers. And his barkadas were Colay, Zari, and the other pretty girls in my class.
Yes, he was Premee. His neighbors said he was nicknamed Premee because he was a premature baby.
Interment is at the Cabatuan Catholic Cemetery on August 14.
Rest in peace, Premee.
@
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Ti san-o ka masunod?
Gusto ko mag-EB sa mga klasmeyts ko. (Para sa mga insomniacs diyan na di masyadong techie, please contain your libido. This post is still rated GP. Sori sa mga utak-bastosin. But to me, EB is just plain face-to-face kumustahan.) But our EBs do not start with the usual 'Kumusta ka?' My klasmeyts break the ice with 'Ti san-o ka masunod?' Literally, 'When are you going to follow?'
I noticed this a long time ago when I was in college. One weekend when I was home, I met a klasmeyt I last saw in our high school graduation. She was holding a baby. Beside her was a gangly teenager who was the best basketball player in our place. They looked too young to be parents. I was too nabigla to say a word. (During those laid-back years, teenagers hardly used their tarugo for worldly purposes other than for peeing. Not for lack of desire but for lack of motivation and a surfeit of parental authority.) So, while eyeing her partner and her situation with obvious embarrassment, she started the conversation with 'Ti san-o ka masunod?' And I heard her asked the same question each time she met another klasmeyt. As if her life was worth emulating.
I hated the question. 'Ti san-o ka masunod?' As the object of the question, I felt miserable. It was asked more to highlight the missing in me than to emphasize the obvious in the person who asked. Or it was meant to cover up embarrassment for a naughty deed. When I caught a klasmeyt with a girl, he asked 'Ti san-o ka masunod?' When a klasmeyt left for abroad to wallow in milk, honey and money, everybody in the despedida was asked, 'Ti san-o ka masunod?'. Subliminally, it was to inform everyone that klasmeyt who went abroad was very lucky indeed. And those who were left behind, manigas kayo! Kon mayad gid man kamo, insa nga giya pa kamo sa Pinas nagabira-bira nga gamay man lang suweldo niyo! Wow. It hurt so much to be dismissed as an underachiever for vowing to serve my country till death do us part.
'Ti san-o ka masunod?' Actually, it is not a question. To my klasmeyts, it's a form of greeting. It's the most used greeting. Far second lang ang 'Kumusta ka?'. When somebody got married, well wishers were greeted with 'Ti san-o ka masunod?'. When one became a father/mother, friends ribbed each other with 'Ti san-o ka masunod?'
Now many klasmeyts are certified grandmas/grandpas. And they proudly parade their apos in strollers. Frankly, they looked like yayas than grandmas.
Klasmeyt grandma held her apo to me and asked, 'Ti san-o ka masunod?' Of course the question was not just intended for me. But still, I cringed at the question. Possibly, feeling high lang siya bcoz napamatud-an nga indi baog anak niya kag cute apo niya; or too embarrassed about the reality nga mal-am gid tana.
But give me a break. Did klasmeyt really think that life is the same for everyone? Or just because they are grandparents I would pray that I be like them soonest even if my eldest still talks and writes jejemonic at 11yo? But then I got my chance to let them taste the bitter dose of their own medicine. When we recently attended the burial of a klasmeyt, as klasmeyts were about to cry, I asked all of them seriously 'Ti san-o kamo masunod?' Ouch! Ti man. Yes, on hearing this, they all forgot to cry.
I haven't had an Eye Ball with klasmeyts after that. But I am sure that in our next EB, they will simply greet me with 'Kumusta ka?' @
Monday, May 17, 2010
Requiems for Sister Aurora
Eternal rest grant unto her, Oh Lord
And let perpetual light shine upon her.
May she rest in peace. Amen.
But wait! Why the solemnity and seriousness? This blog is supposed to lift the spirit. To make the readers smile and be happy. Sister Aurora wouldn’t have allowed anyone to cry and feel sad and devastated. When she was around, she wanted everyone to be happy. And, of course, she always thought that this blog gave her happy thoughts. And she smiled in anticipation when she opened her computer.
And so, after the priests said the last prayers and blessings, as soon as the white roses and white anthuriums were distributed to be thrown to the grave when the casket is lowered, as hankies and boxes of tissue were pulled out for the inevitable, as old folks were poised to wail their loudest, as we bowed our heads in silence to pay our last respects…. suddenly, a nun took the mike and announced to all and sundry that the burial will not push through.
What? What is this, a wedding? That in the middle of the ceremony, somebody would just shout, ‘Stop the wedding! That man (or woman) is already married to me!’ Or as the wedding march is played, somebody would announce that the wedding will not push through because the bride ran away with the best man, or the groom ran away with the maid of honor, or something to that effect. Sister, this is a funeral. And in our impoverished barangay, you don’t stop a funeral like you stop a wedding. It is a taboo. Kadu gid.
The madre was profuse with her apologies for suspending the funeral rites. She said she also asked for apology from Sister Aurora. She announced that they were temporarily suspending the burial because the coffin containing Sister Aurora’s body would not fit in the grave. According to her, they were assured by the Memorial Park’s authorities that their standard size graves can accommodate even the coffin of their biggest foreigner client. She ended her apology by saying that the authorities were rushing to enlarge the grave and that the actual burial might be done the following day.
Sister Aurora died last Monday, May 10, in Cagayan de Oro City. She was a hospital administrator in Mindanao. Her body was supposed to be brought to Iloilo last Thursday, but the nuns couldn’t find a coffin big enough to contain her enormous body. Sister Aurora, when alive, had grown to be enormously healthy. The funeral parlor custom-made her coffin. Her body arrived in Iloilo last Sunday, in time for the scheduled May 17 interment.
After everything was said, mourners closed their mouths and looked at each other as if to ascertain that they heard the same thing. It was their first time to witness a funeral being suspended just before the coffin was to be lowered to the grave.
Relatives and friends placed the white flowers atop the coffin, lined for the packed snacks, and went home. There was no crying, no wailing, and nobody looked up to the heavens to contain the flow of their tears.
The nuns were spirited as they tackled the faux pas. This could be what Sister Aurora had wanted. ‘Si Sister Aurora talaga,’ they gushed. ‘Ganyan talaga siya. Pinapasaya kami palagi.’
It was just 11:00 am. As I drove home with my family and two nuns who asked me to drop them at the mall, I received a call. It was from the memorial park. I was informed that the grave will be rushed and the burial was scheduled at 2:00 pm.
I rushed back before 2:00pm. Baka wala ng workers. The nuns might need me to carry the coffin and lower it to the enlarged grave. I hoped I would not get hernia.
The nuns were at the memorial park’s chapel where the coffin was temporarily placed. A few relatives and friends were also there to accompany the nuns.
At 2:00 pm, sweat-drenched laborers came to carry the coffin. In this morning’s schedule, barong-clad pall bearers would have carried the coffin to the grave. But this plebeian funeral could be what Sister Aurora had wanted. Possibly the nuns could have thought so. And I thought that the sando-and-shorts pall bearers could be far better than the sight of my lonesome self and the coterie of nuns huffing and puffing as we shout 1-2-3! to move the coffin inch by inch to the grave.
The nuns were singing as the coffin was lowered unto the grave at 2:10 pm. But not before the memorial park attendants opened the coffin and peeked at the actual size of the cadaver. In their years of working in the memorial park, this could be the first time that they re-worked a grave because of the size of the cadaver.
There were much fewer people now compared to this morning. But, yes, Sister Aurora. A number of those by your grave shed tears. This was a funeral afterall, inspite the distinctiveness of the circumstances.
Sister Aurora, please pray for us.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Lapit na piyesta; Kadupdup
Last weekend I went home to Cabatuan. Overhead banderetas and streamers welcoming politicians and guests straddle the roads. Lapit na gali fiesta sa Cabatuan. Indi abi ko pirme gapuli. Pirme lang gaulan. Badshot gid ang karsada sa Duyanduyan, Sta. Barbara pakadto sa Talanghauan. Daw turugban. It's a big burden to wash the mud-covered car each time.
What can be seen in Cabatuan? May agri and trade fair, which as usual displays farm produce, plants, home-made foods, crafts like curtains and wood furnitures, etc. Like the past years. The day we were there, may ara search kang Miss Tinuom. And I was offered a ticket for a reserved seat in the street dancing competition the following day. May mga street stalls nga nagabaligya mga cheap things nga daw cross between a Korean store and an ukay-ukay. May ara man Miss Cabatuan coronation night. Kon ano ang mga aktibidades kang mga una nga tinuig, amo man gihapon tulad. Mga hitsura lang ka tawo ang naglain. Kon ano ang makita kag masaksihan sa iba nga piyestahan, amo man ang makita kag masaksihan sa Cabatuan. Mga hitsura lang ang naglain. Hu-humm (panguy-ab).
What I have mentioned are the highlight activities. And this is supposed to be a patronal fiesta. Raku mamiyesta sa Huwebes para magkaon, maglagaw, mamasyar sa mga friends kag paryente. Pero pira lang ang ma-agto kay feastday ni San Nicolas de Tolentino? Kag pira lang ang magahanda nga nakadumdum kay San Nicolas? Pira ang bisita nga maabot para mag-simba?
Sa amon balay, indi daad kami maghanda kay wala mahimos. Si Nanay na lang naman naga-estar sa balay. Our eldest Bro is based in Manila. The other Bro, sa UK na ga-estar. One Sis sa USA na. Diaspora baga. Kag ang Huwebes may klase kag may obra. Pero mahanda kami kuno because: 1) Basi may mabisita kay Nanay. After a near-fatal stroke, waay na nagahalin sa balay si Nanay. Kag ginabisita na lang ka mga friends and paryestes. 2) According sa isa pa ka Sis, daw kalain man nga wala handa. 3) Basi may magtalang nga bisita ang mga kahinablosan.
Note that among the reasons why we make handa, there is no reason remotely pertaining to the patron saint. But are we not just symptomatic of the reality in this Catholic, fiesta-loving country? May ara gid bala nga naga-isip sa patron saint kon ma-miyesta?
Kadupdup
Do you remember kadupdup? Or have you heard of kadupdup?
The last time I heard the word kadupdup was when my older Bro was still a bachelor. And now, owaw na siya. May apo na. Now, after so many years, I heard of kadupdup again in the agri fair in Cabatuan. One booth was selling kadupdup.
So what is kadupdup? 
Kadupdup is a fungus, a vey small mushroom growing on wood or bamboo. I remember kadupdup growing profusely during rainy days on the surface of the bamboo posts in our perimeter fence. Our owaw would gather them and cook them with egg, wrapped with banana leaf - the original tinuom. It smelled and tasted like meat with hints of bamboo, or wood, or wherever it came from.
As I know, kadupdup just grows by itself on wet surfaces of decaying bamboos and wood. And now, ginabaligya na?
I saw classmate Terry buying a glassful of kadupdup. Daw masunod ako sa anda balay so I could eat and taste again kadupdup. But it was getting dark. And we were about to go home to the city.
But my kids begged me to stay longer. They wanted to visit the perya. So we took our supper at my mother's place. We had kadyos cooked with dahon ka kamote, okra, papaya kag may subak nga sinugba nga bangros. Grabe. Gatalbo ang pinggan. First time ko man ka kaon ka dya in months. Seasonal abi ang kadyos.
I dropped my kids at the perya and went straight to Gene and Esay's barbecuehan. Gene gave me a bottle of SanMigLight. Across the street was a lifesize picture of the current Miss Cabatuan. I was informed she was a daughter of a classmate. I took a picture of the picture.
Gene and I talked about life, family, friends. Sa friends, duha na lang kami bilin. The others went to some far away places to find their dreams. Miss namon si Mr Tuvilla. But somehow I felt happy. Some people may be away from their families now, to eke out a living. I am here with my family. Like others, there could be problems. But I still have time to sit beside the street with an ice cold beer, watching people passing by. Wow, astig. And I still have time to think of inconsequential things like kadupdup. Haneps. Happiness is supposed to be about simple things.
@
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Faces we seldom see in reunions
Cecilia J (in stripes) with, L to R, her son, Mosac, and Jesusa (subject of a previous post).
Cecilia J is currently - hold your breath - the Dean of the School of Midwifery of a university in Cavite. She exudes that erudite, dignified, and reserved look - just the right qualities of a respected college dean. In high school, she was always reserved and would only speak when asked to recite in class. She was one of the few serious and studious girls in class because she was reading and memorizing her notes even as others were reading and memorizing Song Hits. She memorized kilometers of lines of Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe (It was many and many a year ago / In a kingdom by the sea / That a maiden there lived whom you may know / By the name of ANNABEL LEE;) . She recited the lines with those slits of eyes looking upwards as if reading the poem as written on the ceiling. Her skirt was long, always covering her calves, just like Nang Ceril's. She never brought a bag to school. Instead, she carried her notebooks, books, pencil case, and the frequent surot or garab, close to her chest and supported with her arm. She was least likely to be invited to jam sessions.
Isabel C as chemist of Midtjydsk Fornikling & Forchromning in Denmark. Whoever can read the name of the company right, please email Astig for a prize. What prize? Secret!.
Isabel C is married to a Dane and now lives and works as a chemist in Denmark. You might ask, Denmark? A Filipino living in Denmark? The country with the highest income tax in the world? Filipinos are famous for evading taxes in the Philippines. So, how come others act like masochists by allowing themselves to be taxed of 60% of their income? Ask Isabel. According to her, social benefits in Denmark are the best in the world. Medical care is free, and she had been operated on in the hospital for several times with minimal expense. While in the hospital and recuperating, she continued to receive her salary. And when her operation went bad, the government supplied her with a free lawyer so she can sue. And she sued successfully and was compensated. The infrastucture in Denmark is high-end and expenditure is a small percentage of the take-home pay. No wonder. Isabel, even when absent in the reunions, was always ready to share with her blessings. In fact, had her mother not died a few months before the 2009 reunion, she would have shouldered the cost of the food and the t-shirts. And she is not running for any elective position this 2010.
Marilene L (L) with Racquel G and the daughter of Cecilia J.
Marilene L did not graduate from CNCHS. But she was a classmate in the elementary. She was pretty, with long legs which she hated when she was a kid because she was always placed at the back of the line during the flag ceremony. And it was in the back were all the naughty boys lurked. And naughty boys in the elementary thought girls standing beside them should play their games too - like paupas ka damang, bug-oy, pityew, tayhup, kag pitik (To those who are in the early stage of alzheimer's, tayhup and pitik were games using rubber bands. Gets nyo?). Those who would not join, gina-sipa. And Marilene could only cry. In high school she was always the muse, with Edgar as her escort. She hated Edgar. And Ernie. And Uwa. And all the boys who constituted the naughty boys squad from elementary to high school. But she loosened up and really bloomed as a young lady when she got featured in the school paper The Glow as CNCHS' prima donna. Because she sang so well. Even Ma'am Catiquista noticed her after she heard her sing. 'Ay kanami gid tana,' Maam Cati's jaw dropped as if tranced by the song of the sirene Lorelei. So Marilene represented CNCHS in all the singing competitions in the province. Marilene is now maried to Bobby, and she works in Manila. This early, while other clasmates are banging their heads on where to get the next pang-tuition, Marilene is spared from any child-related financial woes as her 2 children are already college graduates and are now working. Lucky girl. Her salary is only for her shopping sprees. But the long legs still walk the rutted sidewalk like it is a catwalk; and her voice has still that lilting charm of a girl. But don't be fooled. She is now a certified owaw courtesy of her daughter.
Bulky Nenita S (in red) and still shapely Gloria L (subject of a previous post).
Looking for a hotel in Iloilo City with reasonable rates? Look no farther. Just go to Riverqueen Hotel. Look for Nenita S. Possibly, you will not recognize her as she can pass as a mamma san. She was buxom in high school. She is now bulky but still single and works as a front desk officer of Riverqueen Hotel. Nenita is still lacquacious. No single second is boring in front of her. Her favorite topic is her singleblessedness. She narrated that she had lots of boyfriends before, mostly foreigners, but they never showed her the qualities she was looking for in a future husband. Asked what these qualities were, she just shrugged her shoulders. Perhaps, she signalled that the topic was obsolete as she was resigned to becoming an old maid forever. Di baleh, she added, mas nauna ako maglandi sa inyo tanan. Nenita mans the front desk starting 12:00 midnight. In order not to feel sleepy, she reads FHM. And I thought that the meaning of FHM is For Him Magazine. Funny?
And pahabol na hits. These ladies are adopted classmates. One now resides in Vancouver and the other one in San Nicolas. Recognize them? @
Ga-patad ka sa LOTTO? I-memorize ang numero nga ini....
