"i am afraid of making memories.. because i might remember them..”

A lifted quote from Rachelle posted in her multiply site. She has left us with thousands of good memories. Memoirs that we shall keep in our hearts.

(i wrote this last september 21, 2008)

Hours ago, I received a text message from Rheyne that states” Kung alam ko lang na ang Davao ang huling pagkikita namin ni Rachel, pinilit ko sana siyang mag Samal…Sana nakasama pa natin siya ng mas matagal.”

Rachel, a dear friend and a colleague, is now gone. After reading the text, I was still convincing myself that the news is but a ridiculous joke. This could not be true, Rachel could not die. Not now.

Then I remembered Karla’s poem entitled “Hapung-hapo(para kay Rachel)" which I came across at my multiply account. I did not bother to read it at first, thinking it was just an ordinary poem dedicated to her. But when I look up at it again, I was wrong.

It’s a confirmation that Rachel really passed away.

The stored memories of how we met, the usual moments we have shared were racing back on my mind. It was on CEGP’s National Convention at Sto. Domingo, Albay year 2006 when we first exchanged our hi’s and hello. Along with other members of the Vital Signs Publication of Velez College, Rachelle was one of the noticeable delegates because of her own definition of fashion and her bubbly character.

Gratefully, I was in charge of the billeting section so I designated them in our room knowing that she is a pubmate of Pypai, whom the secretariat refer as my look-alike and because they all speak the Visayan dialect which I understand. Together with Divs from UP-Diliman, Trina of St. Paul and Marisol, LH’s eic (also raised in Cebu), we were housed in the same room for the rest of the convention.

Although room mates, I was not able to spend more time with her because of my hectic schedule as a secretariat member. She was just glad to know that someone from the secretariat can comprehend her “Bisaya” language. She kept on telling me how hard it was to talk in Tagalog! She was asking a favor that time to buy them some junk foods, she handed me a hundred peso bill while enumerating all the names of their needed stuff.

After the convention where she was also elected the Vice President for Visayas, we constantly kept in touch through friendster, multiply and text messages. We would check out on updates of our different activities and even spend time leaving comments on each other’s friendster photos and profiles.

Then after two years of not seeing each other, we met again in CEGP’s National Convention last May in Davao. This time, she is also part of the secretariat so we had more time to work together. We exchanged laughters all throughout the convention especially during practices and when teasing Jose and other secretariat members. Rachelle was the one who yelled and danced for Visayas Island’s cheering team during the Durian night but she did not beat of course, Luzon’s pep squad. And she was part of the running team to get all the durian and the “suha” when the rain suddenly poured. She was assigned as one of the lecturers in a group discussion so I listened to her when she was discussing the need for Cultural Revolution.


When the convention ended, she still stayed for a day. She went along with us to buy some “pasalubongs” within the city. And never did we know that the photo we took at a shop was the last picture we have with her.

She was crying when she bid us goodbye. She kept on uttering how she’ll miss us, how she’ll long for the alliance work and all other CEGP activities. We hugged each other tightly then she said she’ll be serving the masses in other field. When she’s back in Cebu, she’ll be ready to inform the whole world and her parents what she ought to do.

It hasn’t been long. And now she’s already gone.

It’s difficult to accept how it happened. She was killed when she joined integration in the countryside. Rachelle along with two other organizers was killed by members of the military. She was shot right on her face.

She kept her promise of serving the people in the way she believes in. Rachelle is a true martyr for she undoubtedly gave her life to the masses she loved. Since the day she was organized, she accepted the realities, embraced the responsibilities and lived the struggle.

It may be hard to believe that we can no longer hear the stories of Rachelle, her contagious laughter, her sensible conversations, her sweet smile and her persuasive ideals.

Rachelle, we will surely miss you. But do not despair for you will remain an inspiration for us to continue the fight, to hold up the red flag and continue our struggle.

Hanggang sa muling pagkikita, kasama.

Here’s something I wrote after hearing some dire updates from a comrade. It was bad news and I was not expecting for it. Since I was not able to release my emotions, I decided to write to release the tension.

Hindi ko alam kung nakikinig ka ba talaga sa tuwing nag-uusap tayo o pinipili mo lang ang mga tatandaan mo sa libong salitang sinasabi ko at ng iba pa. Hindi lang ngayon o kahapon tayo nag-usap at nagpaliwanagan tungkol dito. Hindi ko naman sinasabing pagod na ako, o sawa na ako. Pero minsan, nasasagad din ang pasensiya. At may pagkakataong sana hindi lang "ikaw" o ang sarili mo ang iniintindi mo kung hindi ang nararamdaman ng iba.

Sabi mo, iniisip mo kami kaya hindi ka nagsasalita. Hindi ka nagsasabi. Pero hindi mo ba naisip na dahil sa ginagawa mo, lalo mong inilalayo ang sarili mo? Lalo mong pinapaypayan ang mainit nang baga. Hindi sa lahat ng panahon, alam namin ang takbo ng utak mo. Hindi kami manghuhula para malamang may dinaramdam ka sa kabila ng mga ngiti mo sa mukha. Totoong may mga bagay na hindi na kailangang idaan sa salita, pero mas higit na maraming mga bagay na kailangang sabihin para maunawaan.

Alam kong marami kaming pagkukulang, hindi lahat ng pangangailangan niyo'y natutugunan namin. May mga panahong tila wala kaming oras na kayang ilaan para makinig sa kung ano mang kwento, balita o problemang meron kayo. Madalas, hindi kami nakakasakay sa kulitan at asaran niyo. May mga pagkakataong hindi mo kami nakakasama, madalas wala kami sa tabi niyo.

Pero sana huwag mo namang isiping hindi kami handa para pakinggan ka. Na hindi ka namin kayang maunawaan. At huwag mong ipagpilitang hindi ka namin naiintindihan.

Mahirap din kasing malaman na hindi ka nasasapatan sa kaya naming ibigay sa ngayon. Masakit malaman na napakarami pa rin naming pagkukulang sa kabila ng ilang beses na pagpapaliwanag at pagpapaalalaa. May kurot sa pagkatao namin kung nakikita namin kayong nagkakaganyan.

Ayaw kong manumbat, dahil wala naman akong karapatan. Wala din ako sa posisyon para mag-inarte o magpakita ng kahinaan. Pero gusto ko lang din malaman, nagawa mo na bang kamustahin ako? Alamin kung ano ang iniisip ko, kung may problema ba ako o may dinaramdam ako? Naisip mo na din pang maglaan ng oras para ako naman ang pakinggan mo, ang mga kwento ko ng pangarap, ang mga nakatakda kong gawin at plano ko sa nalalapit na hinaharap? Minsan ba, inalala mo kung bakit ako tahimik? Nagtanong ka na ba kung bakit madalas akong magsungit?

Huwag mong ipagpalagay na hindi namin nakikita ang mga sakripisyo mo. Maraming paraan para ipakita namin na natutuwa kami sa bawat oras na inilalaan mo para sa kanila. At hindi hinihingi ang kapalit sa bawat bagay na kaya mong isakripisyo at ilaan. Kung magsisilbi ka, hindi ka magtatanong kung hanggang kailan, hindi ka magtatakda kung hanggang saan.

Hindi rin dapat maging dahilan ang isang tao para lang manatili ka. Hindi ka siya at siya ay hindi ikaw. May sarili kang pag-iisip, may sarili kang pagpapasya. Hindi sa kanya umiikot ang mundo mo at lalong hindi siya ang buhay mo. Kung kaya, maling-mali ang gawing rason ang isang tao para gawin ang hindi mo naman talaga gustong gawin.

Huwag mo ding sabihing hindi ka namin sinusuportahan, pakiusap. Dahil sa lahat ng ginagawa mo, hindi man sapat ang tapik sa balikat at mga pabirong hirit, kami ang lubos na nagagalak. Sa bawat limistasyong na-i-igpawan mo at kahinaang nababaka mo, kami ang unang nakakakita noon. Hindi man kami humawak ng bandera at mag flag dance maghapon, tandaan mong kami ang mga taong gustong makita ang pag-unlad mo.

Sana maging obhetibo ka sa lahat ng panahon. Suriin ang mga bagay-bagay bago ka magbitiw ng mga salita. Isipin mo na nasasaktan din kami, napapagod, napipikon...gaya mo din. Gaya ng iba pa.

Maging bukas ka lang. Bukas para magpuna at tumanggap ng puna, bukas para makipagusap, bukas para mas lalo pa tayong magkaunawaan.

Iniintindi ka pa rin namin. Sa alam naming pamamaraan.

*this photo was taken in 2006

Sir Mariano “Ric” Gonzalo.

I met him in 2005 when we attended the Cordillera Day in Kalinga, Apayao. Since Cordi Day is the celebration of he the rich culture of different indigenous people in the country, every province, region or tribe is required to showcase its own culture; all the delegates from our region were brainstorming for a unique presentation. Someone came up with a bright idea of composing a poem; then recite it while the rest of us will do interpretative movements. The poem was done in an hour and the movers kept pace. Another group came up with a short poem on fisher folks and gladly Danny Fabella, renowned composer, laid on a melody to it.

While everyone was busy, an elder recommended Sir Ric to choreograph our movements since he was known to be a cultural artist and is a member of the Concerned Artists of the Philippines (CAP). And so we invited him. It was not easy to work with a professional like him. I recall that he was infuriatingly strict that we start from the top the moment one of us commit a mistake. What appends the anxiety is the time limit. We had to perfect the presentation hours before the cultural night. But after hearing tongue-lashing comments, countless 1-2-3 mantra, we finally performed the 10 minute presentation where we left the audience in full awe. (Haha! )

From then on, Sir Ric became the instantaneous speaker for our theatre arts discussion on our annual journalism training. He was not the regular speaker. He insisted on coming along with us the day before the activity and helped us revamp the uninviting stage before the actual day of the event. He choreographed our cultural presentation which took almost 2 hours to perfect and clapped his hands after our 5 minute production. He stayed from day one until the assessment period; he even came along to our swimming revelry.

Sir Ric loves to tell stories of his past. Now a 52 year old self-confessed gay who understands that he can no longer find the partner he wanted to have at this age. He is a cultural organizer, trainer and performer back in his younger years. He has a son but failed to become a father.

We haven’t talked to him thereafter. Not until some of our friends decided to visit him to check on his condition. We have received text messages that he was confined and is suffering from severe illness the past weeks. I remember that he once told us that he has some health problems including kidney troubles.

Last Wednesday, our friends, went to an old barung-barong situated at the slum area of the city where he lived alone. True enough, after 3 years, Sir Ric is now suffering from renal failure secondary to diabetes. He is also starting to lose his sight as another complication of DM. Sir Ric, like millions of people suffering from diseases, cannot afford the hospital bills. He cannot produce at least Php 15,000 per week to undergo dialysis. He complains on how hard it is to get up from bed, of his heavy breathing and stridors, of his edematous feet and bed sores. He does not have the means to buy all the required medicines for him to at least impede the developing complications. And he believes that it’ll not be long enough and soon he’ll pass away.

It’s saddening to see someone lose hope. Its tough to hear someone wait for the last days of his life and it’s tougher to give words of assurance because you, yourself is not certain if he’ll still be fine. It’s heart-breaking to know that you cannot do anything but give him hope and smile as he shares the untold stories of his past.

Now, he temporarily lives with us in our boarding house. At least there’ll be someone to look after him. There’ll be us to listen to his unfinished dreams and plans, of the struggle that he believed in, of the plays, musicals and stage he once owned.

* Please find time to know more about him. Just got to this link
http://www.bulatlat.com/news/6-9/6-9-gonzalo.htm. Anyone who is willing to help him out in any way, please email me. Thanks.

I threw up.

Again.

For the second time, I made the same disgusting act after drinking liquor. We actually did not intend to splurge on GSM Blue and Emperador along with Oishi and nuts as pulutan last night. But because of the spur of the moment, we had the liquor, ice cubes and juice (chaser) right on our hands.

It started okay, with the usual exchange of laughs and stories. I had my own glass and immediately took a half-glass shot of GSM followed by a sip of the orange juice. Then I turned red. It is actually normal for me to turn beet-red even if I only had a sip of alcohol. This runs in the family. My uncle turns red after some shots every time he attends a drinking session. Sarah, my younger sister had rashes which lasted for days after the tequila sessions we had on a Christmas party. My brothers Paolo and JP also experience the same. We all turn out to be Hellboy’s cousins after hours of dancing with the alcohol’s spirit. And every time this happens, its hard to convince everyone that we are still on our normal state.

Anyways, we took turns and before I could realize, I already had five half-glass shots. I was not tipsy really, but I can feel my heart starting to beat faster and my head was as light as a feather. Then I stopped.

I decided to stop the intake so I could relax a bit and allow my system to cope up with the sudden change. After 30 minutes, my color started to change back to normal. And there, I fell asleep. For about 20 minutes of nap, I woke up feeling much better. Then Louie arrived from his class and so I felt I was going to puke upon hearing him lashing out words, questioning why we were drinking.

I was trying to control it. My mind says I can still swallow back what felt like butterflies and roaches rushing out from my throat. But out of the blue, all the partly digested food my stomach was busily tearing was all over my legs, the sofa, the floor and my hair!

After laughing out loud to what I’ve done, I rushed to the bathroom to wash myself. Rama handed me a towel, a pair of shorts and a tee while Daryl cleaned up my mess at the sala. Louie kept on cursing me while I was left laughing. (special thanks to Rama, Daryl and Rei for staying up with me and doing all the messy chores)

Back in 2006, I first threw up. It was our last day in Manila before heading back here in La Union, so Kuya Rain, my cousin, insisted on treating us out. After overeating at the superb dinner prepared by Tita Maggie, we headed straight to a bar, had a few drinks and enjoyed watching the band performing. I was down to my second bottle of beer when I suddenly felt awful. I excused myself, headed to the CR and released all the stuff that was trying to burst out. It was a relief! And no one knew of what I did, of course.

For that two occasions, I was not wasted, I swear. But then I threw up. I remember that prior the drinking session last night, I just finished my meal comprised of Laing, tuna and rice for supper. So, visualize how my stomach and intestines reacted. And just imagine the after-taste of my emesis. Ewww, gross!

I swear I’ll never drink with a full-stomach again.