Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts

"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.

*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.