HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

January 28, Saturday must be noted as one of the warmest winter day in Toronto. In the middle of the winter season, the temperature shot up to about 10 degrees C so it was a crime not to go out and enjoy the balmy weather and to check the happenings in Chinatown. The Toronto Chinese Community celebrated the Chinese New Year ( year of the dog ) that week end. Nene went out to work, I went out to play. After a quick brunch, I headed to Chinatown in Spadina and Dundas one of the Chinese communities here in Toronto.

Once in a while I like losing myself in Chinatown. This area is so noisy, so dirty and so smelly. Reminds me of Manila, particularly Ongpin or Binondo near Plaza Sta. Cruz. At 1:00 pm, there is already quite a crowd at the Dragon Mall, milling in and out. This was my first stop. Never been in this mall for about 5 years already. The ground floor consisted mostly of table vendors selling pastries and something we call "Chinese New Year Cake." These come out only once a year and they taste almost the same as the TIKOY we have in Asingan. I saw a table vendor selling pirated DVDs. Unbelievably they have KING KONG, NARNIA, FUN WITH DICK AND JANE and some other movies which are scheduled for DVD release in a few more months. The price? 7 for 20$. I bought one such item in Montreal last year for 10$ and I wasted my money. It is one of those videos shot with a video camera inside the theatre. Sounds familiar? Yes sir, another similarity of Toronto Chinatown to Manila. I did not buy any pirated video this time. Meantime I took the escalator to the second floor.

In here I saw a DVD store which advertised PILIPINO MOVIES AND MUSIC.. All right! I had to check that joint. They had one full shelf of Filipino DVDs, VCDs and CDs manufactured in Hong Kong. For sale and exhibition only in Hong Kong, said the label. What the hell were these doing in Toronto? After browsing ( and noting what to buy ) the Philippine movies, I saw, right at the back wall a whole collection of Asian pornographic movies. Even the jackets were 100% graphic smut. They do not even put white labels on them, for decency's sake. Only in Chinatown. I guess the Vice Squad of Toronto do not care about checking the stores in Chinatown. Or they stopped trying to stop them.

Going back to the Filipino movies, I saw the well known titles that sell for 16 or 20$ US online..In here they sell only for 10 or 12 US Can $ which is still much lower in value than the UScurrency.These are original copies and you can haggle with the price. I spent sometime reading the liner notes on the labels. Well they were selling DUBAI, MILAN, FENG SHUI, MANO PO PART 3 plus DVD versions of Our lady of Manaoag. The DVDs have English subtitles which would be helpful for the younger Filipino Canadian kids to understand. Then I remember I had my cel phone with me so I called up Nene at work. I asked what she wanted.

"Do they have lanzones?" she asked. "yeah, I saw one fruit market displaying some. Just one."

"How much do they cost?"

"5.99 a pound." "Nagnginan!", that's her favorite expression. "But buy 2 bags anyway.."

"How about the New Year's cakes?.."Of course they got them. It is new Year, isn't ?"

"Get them too, they are nice fried coated with eggs."

When I went back to the table of New Year cakes only 2 out of the 10 saw remained. Had to buy them at once since I do not like going around anymore. As the day waned, the crowd grew denser and more unruly. Someone stepped on my foot and didn't even say "I am sorry" Minutes later someone in a motorized wheel chair bumped me in the back. Had to grow eyes in the back of my head next time. I inched my way to the fruit store for the precious lanzones. I asked for 2 bags of the cellophane wrapped fruit. The vendor hastily weighed them and said "20.19!" Pulled out my wallet, took out a 20 $ bill and said "How about 20?" "OK" she said..Heck she did not even show me the scale reading. I just bought the product with blind faith. Then I started heading for the bus stop. On the way, I saw the two guys selling pirated DVDs inside the Dragon Mall. I guessed they smelled the cops were almost on them so they hightailed it to a safer part of Chinatown. There must be an easier way to earn a living than that!

In a few minutes I was on the bus stop, and a 505 TTC street car arrived not long after. I got into it and checked the remaining vista of Chinatown as it passed by through the strret car window. Then it halted at the corner of Dundas and University. I got down and saw a Tim Horton coffee shop. I needed a cup!

Gee, it was great to be back in a civilized environment again.----#

FROM AMBASSADOR RUDY DUMAPIAS

Some letters teach us lessons in family love...This is one of them!

*************

Dear Arsenio,

      I must apologize for the delay in responding to your important message.

       I am saddened with the death of my dear friend Lipit.  Please convey my family's deep sympathy and condolence to his surviving children and grandchildren, as well as to his wife and brothers and sisters.    
     Also, please extend my warm personal regards to your father Turing who was a friend to both me and my elder brother "Totoy" Florencio Jr.  When he had the barber shop, I used to patronize him as well as Opong Fernandez.  I remember your father as soft-spoken and reserved.  My brother and I grew up with Turing and Lipit, and I remember the other kids from your neighborhood in Cabingculan such as Martin (expert in gripo), the Tayabas, the Escorpisos, and my cousins Roque and Aida (and other children of uncle Carpo Velasco), as well as Erning and the other children of uncle Pinoy Velasco.  I do hope your father still remember us.  Kindly tell him that we  hope to see him again and recall the good old days.

      Arsenio, in his present condition your father would need assurance of the love of his family.  More than ever, this is the time to tell him how much you appreciate the sacrifices he and your mom had for their children.  Tell him and show him your thanks. A time will come when you will look back and be glad that you have told him your love and gratitude.

      God bless you.                       

       In Christ Jesus,                            

                                 Bro.(Amb) Rudy and Sis. Eva Dumapias

MORE ASINGAN MEMORIES

Recently I received an e-mail from Jane Salcedo Robina an Asinganian presently based in Seattle. Her letter ties up with my next entry, so I am reproducing some portions.

 Mng Vic,

 Yes its me , the daughter of Cresing and Pedong Robina, I asked my mom about you couple months ago. I said to her that I love reading your blogs thru the asinganweb.   My mom is here living with me and going back and forth from the PI every year,She's now a retired teacher. My dad is coming back here this April.  

Uncle Pidiong passed away long time ago,,and so with auntie Virgie last 1998 in PI right after she retired.  

So you have  inlaws here in Seattle? May I know  their  names? I might know them.   Its almost 2 decades since your last visit here in Seattle Why dont you pack your bags and come again,so we'll meet each other.It will be my pleasure meeting a neighbor of mine that i havent seen since i was born.   I remember bae Petra and laki Vicente* ,I used to go to your house all the way to your backyard to play when I was a kid. I played with the Sampagas, your next door neighbor; ,Jerry ,Gildo mng Boy and family,the Canadidos,Ongs,Pisos,and the Suratoses.I was the naughtiest kid on the block but  enjoyed every second of my childhood .    

I've been reading all mails and your blogs..They are so very interesting,,,They remind me of my grandmother Esper who  also loved to tell us stories.

----

* my parents . By the way, my in-laws in Seattle are the Hufana family. My brod in law Mike is already retired. His sons run a  Martial Arts studio and also a Printing Shop in Seattle...

----  

MORE ASINGAN MEMORIES

One morning, we went around the block particularly to the Apartel which was once a Kiskisan was ran by the Cruz family ( Mr. Cruz was once a school Principal and Mrs. Cruz ran the rice mill). One of their sons, Dr. Bernard Cruz  is now a successful Medical Practicioner in the US.We saw the impressive 2 storied building which is owned by the family.There are some apartments on the second floor plus a bicycle store in the ground floor. When I was still in Toronto, I heard that a Cybercafe is in the ground floor; turned out my sources were wrong. We also saw his brother Francis, now married. He was formerly my student at the Rizal Academy and when he moved to the Divine Word College, Urdaneta, he also attended some classes handled by my wife, Miguelita. Of course he was so happy to see us. Seeing old friends could be refreshing to a balik bayan.

The lot where the building is now was once an orchard owned by my father. He sold it to Mr. and Mrs Cruz during the late '50s. Before the transfer of ownership, it is one of the places where I played with my cousins ( the children of Dr. and Mrs. Filomena Tendero ). They were my only first cousins in town, so we sometimes would go to this mini orchard just to spend time climbing the trees, the smaller ones particularly. There was a chico tree there, then the fruit tree we called Pias ( or Kamias in Tagalog ). It bore  small green fruits that is so sour but we love to dip them in salt and ate them with equally sour faces. There was also a Santol tree at the border beside the Philippine Independent church and it has some of the tastiest fruits in town. Of course it has to be dipped in Asingan vinegar made from sugar cane or eaten plain. Some of my cousins would eat even the big seeds and I would not be surprised if they had difficulty taking a crap the next morning. Then there is the Anonas tree which had fruits but we really did not eat that much. But on Saturday mornings, sometimes my cousins and I would climb this tree just to espy on the goings-on of a group of Iglesia ni Kristo worshippers. There was a church there (the present site of the store run by the Ong family). On Saturday mornings, the congregation would meet and part of their worship is to weep for their sins so these will be forgiven..There would be this crying and wailing inside and we kids would be snickering outside on top of the Anonas tree. We would be holding on tight so we won't fall down and break our necks.

Of course we also dropped by my Alma Mater, the Colegio de San Luis Beltran, formerly the Rizal Academy. When I was a first year student at the Rizal Academy, classes were still held at the Salcedo building just beside the present location of the school. The principal then was Mr. Tito Firmalino. He and another co teacher Mr. Flojo formed a dynamic duo to maintain discipline among the students.Well, Mr. Firmalino and Mr. Flojo were Ateneo ( or was it San Beda ) graduates. They spoke very polished English ; very well mannered. I remember Mr. Firmalino wearing a tie most of the time. And he was a pleasant, soft-spoken chap.To me, letting a gentleman and a scholar run the Rizal Academy in the 50s is like driving a Mercedes in one of Asingan's cowpaths. Sooner or later, something or somebody will get stuck in the mud. I still remember a senior student singing a church song  in the school yard, but he changed the words to include Mr. Firmalino's private parts! He and other students in the RA at that time were quite colorful characters: Gil Neri, Napoleon Legaspi, Florencio Soberano and Rolando Layos, to mention just a few..They  always participated in school programs, acted on school plays, delivered brilliant declaimations during the RA Foundation Days. And they might have given a few gray hairs to Mr. Firmalino before he quit RA for a better job in Manila!----#

MISA DE GALLO 2003

Another of my THINGS TO DO IN ASINGAN is to attend at least one Misa de Gallo. Our house is just west of the RC church and going there is no problem. It is the getting up from the bed and dressing up: thats the problem.If you are in a different house, looking for the clothes to wear takes longer than usual. Our clothes were basically still in the suitcases. Then taking a shower at 4:00 am without any hot water can be a bitch. Well they say the first can of water doused on your naked torso is the hardest, then the subsequent ones would be a breeze. Easier said than done.

So I finally got down from the house. I had to bring a flashlight to see my way to the church. It is not pitch black dark in there, but I do not want to step on any dogshit on my way to Mass. Bad happening, just in case it happens.

I usually enter the church through the side door on the west wing of the church. Or annex. Whatever. As I enter the door, I feel like I am being stared at. If looks could kill I could have dropped dead right there. But I was able to find a seat beside a white haired lady who smiled at me. I smiled back of course. "Kumusta kayo?" I greeted. She never answered back. Either she does not want to talk to strangers or her left ear was hard of hearing. I looked around for anyone I know. Maybe Pare Alex Romero. No luck. Maybe he was still asleep. Juanita Orpiano, a remnant of the old St. Cecilia's choir was there but she was right up the front on the podium close to the altar. She just gave me a surprised smile, a wave of the hand and thats it. In a few minutes, loud music from some high powered speakers blared and the mass started.

The church sounded like a concert hall. The canned music accompanied a mixed choir seated at the east wing of the church where the grotto of the Virgin Mary was. The singing was pretty good. I expected some Advent songs, but they were doing a few Xmas carols already. And Christmas was still a few days away. And hearing the Mass prayers in Ilocano sounded quite different for me. Well, thats expected and thats part of the holiday package. The lit candles, the body heat from people, and some other factors raised the temperature inside the church. Midway through the Mass, I started to sweat already. During the Peace Be With You part of the Mass, people just nodded to each other. What? In our church here in Weston we shake hands with the worshippers near to you; some hug, everybody smile at each other. Well, can't complain, when in Asingan do what Asinganians do.

But the church has really improved since the last time I saw it. More so if you remember the set up of the old one. There was a choir loft atop the main entrance door. I loved hearing the Mass on the choir loft. You can come wearing your sleeping clothes and nobody would see it. Of course, you can not go down to receive Communion and you have to be the very last person to leave the church.There was also a door in the choir loft going to the church bell tower. If you dare, you can go up to the highest level. The view of Asingan from there is exquisite especially on a cool afternoon during the 2 month long vacation. Sometimes my friends and I would go up there with cookies and drinks. Then spend the rest of the day laughing and swapping jokes.

After the Mass, I have to go out thru the main door..You know why?..All the tupig and bibingka vendors are there near the main gate. We call that vendor strip before the PATIO. It springs to life every Sunday morning and especially so during the SEMANA SANTA. On Holy Wednesday, the whole street becomes something like a Flea market ( sans the fleas) with assorted goodies lining the temporary thatches made of bamboo and nipa. One could hear the scraping of ice for the halo-halo addicts. Never mind if some vendors do not wash their glasses and spoons very well. The halo-halo would still taste special.

So I came home right after my first Misa de Gallo in Asingan in the year of our Lord 2003. I bought all the bibinka and tupig available at the patio. There is always a big thermos of hot water in the dining table on the 2nd floor of our house.There was also a bottle of Instant Coffee, sugar and a small bottle of Napoleon Brandy. I love to mix a little brandy with my coffee just to give it a different taste. It may not taste like Starbucks or Tim Hortons. But then these classy coffee houses do not have the bibinka and tupig which we had that morning!---#

 

 

 

BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE segment shot in Queen/Saulter Library

ABC Family brings a new drama to TV, Beautiful People When Lynn Kerr finds herself newly single after her husband runs off with his mistress, she decides to start a new life with her teen daughters, Karen and Sophie. So, they pack their bags and move from a small town in New Mexico to New York City where looks can be decieving. Sophie Kerr, the youngest daughter, receives a scholarship

Airs: Monday 9:00 PM on ABC Family (60 mins) .

Last Wednesday, Jan 25, a segment of the drama was shot here at the Queen/Saulter branch, Toronto Public Library. Miguelita, Branch Manager had the rare previlege of having a photo with the beautiful young stars of the series.

The movie CINDERELLA MAN shown last year and  recently released on DVD was partly shot in this Library----#

(Photos courtesy of Neil Mohammed of the Queen/Saulter Branch, TPL.)

A TRIP TO DAGUPAN

In the old days, going to Dagupan is quite simple. Either you take a bus via Binalonan ( the San Jose-Dagupan route ) or go to Urdaneta on a jeep, then wait for the Dagupan bound bus in the old Pantranco station in the present site of the Urduja hotel. Either that or take a chance with those mini van drivers who would drive like the devil  on the McArthur highway. The Pantranco bus is aleady extinct like the dinosaur but those uncanny mini busses are still very much alive.

When we went to Dagupan in 2003, we had to take the public transportation. We had to walk from home to the jeepney stop in the marketside, then when the jeep reaches Urdaneta it goes to an out of the way disembarkation point. Not in the old place which is the crossing of the Baguio and Dagupan routes. It would be so convenient to have a car in Asingan ( or to know someone from whom you could bum a car ride ). But anyway we finally got some seats in a bus from Manila heading for Dagupan. It said AIR CONDITIONED. But it was hot as hell inside. And it was packed.

I noticed a few changes on the road to Dagupan: it already skips going through the towns of Sta. Barbara and Calasiao. The bus went through some diversion roads then all of a sudden we were already near Dagupan. All roads led to Dagupan for the vehicles are ALWAYS bumper to bumper. They are using the same roads used in the old days while the number of vehicles quadrupled since then. The bus stopped at a point in Perez Boulevard. From there we took a tricycle that brought us to Dagupenia, a restaurant near the old Pantranco station.

The joint is kind of classy ( if you ask for the air conditioned area ). It has the old Philippine motif with capiz shells windows, hand carved wall partitions. Would be nice if the lights were gas lamps like the kind used during the times of Rizal. But it has a good ambiance. The waitresses and waiters were garbed in native Filipino attire.  Just like in the Ilang-Ilang cafe at the Manila Hotel. We ordered mostly native dishes ( kare-kare, sinigang na bangus, tapang bangus and camaron rebosado. ) Bonuan is nearby but heck, you have to waste another hour waiting for a ride and we were already hungry. But I am sure the bangus came from Bonuan. For dessert we had local pastillas. One in our group also ordered Mango juice. It was a nice satisfying lunch. Now we are ready to walk along Bugallon avenue ( the Yonge street or the 5th avenue of Dagupan)

The sun was hot, especially when you cross the bridge spanning the river ( what's the name again?). There are lots of sidewalk vendors in front of the regular boutiques and Chinese Bazaars. I was surprised to see that Ang Ka Tong was still there. I think I also saw Tia Juana's. And also Farmacia Balingit ( I am not so sure ).

But I saw DeLuxe restaurant although the place has became a dump. A new, better one is located on the road going to Binmaley just outskirts of Dagupan. The original store has no air con, just ceiling fans, very noisy, with loud music mixed with the din of plates and waitresses screaming at each other. You have also to swat or shoo your own flies as soon as the food is served on your table. But the food is half the price of the entrees in the new DeLuxe restaurant.

Then my companions saw the Pawn shop. They examined the jewelries so I had to go out and check the pirated movies and music CDs on the sidewalk. And the rag newspapers that were lying beside them. I bought one because a headline caught my eye:BAKLA, BINARITA. ( Homosexual, assaulted with a crowbar). Nice. I wondered where that's why I bought the paper.

Our trek ended at the CSI Square Mall that occupied the former Dagupan public market..It was a huge, air conditioned building with the usual stores that remind one of the North American malls. But since I hate looking at clothes ( and my companions loved them ) I just spent my time in a book store, checking the Philippine periodicals and books. The glossy, big publications have lovely photographs of Philippine sceneries. These are printed elsewhere: HongKong, Singapore,etc. Why? You and I do not want to know. There were also lovely postcards of Dagupan, Bonuan, Lingayen Beach, the Provincial Capitol. Gorgeous pictures.

Eventually,  I came across the electronic stores. Ah, they have home theatres too with surround sound amps and giant TVs too. No LCDs yet at that time. The prices however are astronomical. Only  the people who are crapping money can afford it. The ordinary Juan dela Cruzes can only watch on used or repaired TV or those with rich kinfolks abroad.But again, whats the point of buying a huge, expensive TV if there is no cable or sattelite service in your town? And there are also the list of priorities. The big TV is on the bottom of the list.

From CSI we went to another mini mall which is THE  competition. The goods are different of course but they are not as abundant as in CSI. I bought a pair of slippers that looked like a leather mocassin in the '50s. Like sandals, these are open at the back. Penny loafers; I think thats what they call those mocs  before. They went well with denims and shirts or tees. Popular during the times of Pat Boone, Elvis and James Dean. I still have those slippers in my house. All I have to do is to find them.

Then the day started to end. We had to go back to Asingan. This time, we took a chance with those mini vans with a fresh conductor who start flirting with the girls as soon as he has  finished collecting fares. We reached Urdaneta late in the afternoon. Instead of taking the jeep, we took a couple of tricycles ( 4 passengers in each ). My sister Ester haggled with the drivers about the rates.She is talented in this aspect. In this part of the world you have to know how to haggle like crazy in order to save money---#

 

 

 

 

 

VISITING URDANETA

.I find my visit to Asingan both exciting and boring depending on the daily agenda. In 2003, as soon as we became restless, we went to Urdaneta first since it is just a few miles away. We hired a tricycle for the whole trip, going coming back and going around the City. First we texted Greg and Aurora Manzano of Divine Word College. Aurora is a very good friend of Miguelita at this school and it would be a crime to come home and not to say HI to her. I learned to like the cell phone in the Phil, thus when there is nothing much to do, I just check my phone book which I compiled from the day I arrived in Manila. I bought the cel phone in Manila too. I got it for the ridiculous price of 4500 pesos ( a Nokia ) which is about 100$..Some cell phones in Canada are just 50$ or sometimes 0$..But you are stiffed somewhere after you have signed a contract. Too bad I could not use my Canadian Cell phone in the Philippines ( I can but imagine the roaming charges )

Anyway, we met Greg and Aurora Manzano at the Rainforest Resort in Urdaneta along the way going to Binalonan. I visited this resort a year before with Belo Malala thus I am familiar with the facilities particularly the food. Their pancit tastes like Dagupan made. And there is also a swimming pool which you can overlook from the railings of the restaurant. A strand of trees offer some privacy plus a noise breaker from the vehicular traffic that ply the highway on the top. The resort is on a lower level. It is very relaxing with the modern looking restaurant set-up and the flowers and plants surrounding the pool area. We ordered something which we can nver taste even in Filipino restaurants here in Toronto. The reason for this is the fact that most food supplies here in US/Canada are frozen usually for 6 months ( the curing process ) before it is sold in Supermarket shelves. But here in the Philippines, everything is fresh. You can always tell it by the taste of its SUGPO, veggies, soup and greens that adorn their pancit. So we ordered among other things: Pancit Guisado, Sinigang na Bangus, adobo, rellenong bangus and my favorite: igado! And since there were 5 or 6 of us, we doubled each order. Surprisingly, the bill when converted to $ is just like a meal for 3 at a MacDonald restaurant here in Toronto. We ordered San Miguel beer too, of course. This brand of beer is scarce here in Toronto..And the bottle ( and taste ) is slightly different. Nothing like the San Miguel beer you buy at the corner store in Asingan.

So talked and ate until all the food is gone and we felt sleepy ( the beer helped ). Nobody took a dip in that lovely pool. Nobody brought any swimming gear. And even if we did, we do not like to show how our bodies were transformed by the passing of the years! ( Hah! you must be kidding if I would SWIM then. In the first place, I do not know how to swim!)

So we said good bye to our friends. We see them only once in 3 or 4 years and such good byes are bitter sweet if you think about it. We know them when we were still single. Who knows when will we ever see them again?

Feedback from Arsenio (this is cute..)

Manong Vic, I was one of those hollering "PANDESAAAAAL" every morning. Yeah, I was a pandesal boy... Probably you heard me too. That was around early 70's. I got my goodies from Villar and sometimes from Lopez. One time, I sold only 5 pcs.out of 200 pandesals.. I picked 150 pcs   small and 50 pcs of a larger size.. I went home crying and my mom asked what happened but I didn't wanna tell her..I don't want them to get mad, thinking that she might not let me let me  sell pandesal anymore(That's not cool for me awanen ti balonen) but my mom was so insitent to know what was going on.. I told her anyway. She said "Give me all your remaining pandesal," which I did. When she came back, she gave me some money and said "Inka agrindi garoden"(Go now and remit some money to the bakeries). I was so surprised how she did it! And was allowed to continue selling pandesal. I learned  my lessons in selling.Iso nga agen-gana ita ag-laklako ak pay latta ngem saan nga pandesal(So I am still selling but no more pan de sals!)---#

****

Good for you, Arsenio! I too sold Pan de Cacao for 2 days when I was still in the Elementary school. I carried all over Asingan that big can ( I supposed it was a container for lard or shortening ) full of the tasty rolls. I quit because an unfriendly dog almost chewed off a piece of my _____!! You know what? I am also a part time merchant. I sell on e-bay ( I have my own account, I can open my e-bay store if I like and I have a pay pal account. ) I did sell collector's items ( rare books, Music Laser Discs/DVDs, etc. )Lately I neglected posting items for bidding but I have to do it again before I forget my e-bay passwords!  Keep on writing. Its fun!

Vic

A LONG TRIP TO ASINGAN

A PC Nerd who visits Asingan really would need a laptop if he/she has to stay in town for a number of days. After the novelty of arriving in Asingan wears off, then something inevitably happens. You get bored with a capital B. In our 2003 trip, my wife Miguelita, my sister Aurora and I went together. My sis Ester who resides in Asingan and her family met us at the airport. After a couple of days at the Dusit Hotel in Manila, a van came to pick us and brought us home to Asingan.....

***

When I was young and would spend a week end ( or a school term ) in Manila, I always loved watching the scenery thru the window of the Asingan bound bus. After we passed by the Balintawak monument ( the old route ), then we come to the smaller towns of Bulacan, the province of the poet laurete, F.Balagtas. I would drink in all the views that went buy. Everyone in the bus would always laugh when we pass by Meycauayan. The smell would remind you of someone who did not take a bath for a whole week and did not change his clothes either. And the bus vendors were already there; selling the usual sitsaron which at that time was solely manufactured in or near Meycauayan. A guy in the bus one time said " This is where they manufacture the sitsaron" when the bus passed by the leather curing factories and people cupped their hands on their noses.

The towns in Bulacan were close to each other. After a brief trip thru some rice fields, you arrive in another town which alas, looked like the other one which you have seen. Then the bus crosses into Pampanga, and the field sceneries get longer..Then one see the tower of the San Fernando church and one enters a REAL city view with bigger buildings, stores, THEATRES ( I always check the titles of the movies they were showing ) then in a few minutes, the bus enters another stretch of a long, boring excursion into greenfields, left and right until we reach Angeles. Angeles seems to be a copy cat of San Fernando.I peeled my eyes to the names of stores or the Chinese owned buildings.The bus winds around the town a bit, does not stop except to pick up passengers then went on its way.

The next stop is more exciting. Yes, it is DAU! If you pass by Dau in the morning or noon, you will wonder whether the women walking there about are hookers or what. You would see the various exotic signs of the pleasure pots of Dau ( Clark Air Base was still occupied by the Americans then ). If the bus passed there at night, then there would be loud music, flashing lights, enlisted men walking hand in hand with friendly local women. But the locals would complain if you tell them the women are Pampanguenias..those girls are from Bicol, they would say. Whatever...

***

At present, vehicles from Manila always take the Highway that goes all the way to Mabalacat, Pampanga. In 2003, we left Manila late afternoon. When we were in Tarlac, we saw the granduer of the Christmas lights that seemed to sprout in every tree in front of many houses. The town looked like Disneyland at night. I tried not to fall asleep so as not to miss the sights. These sights for overseas visitors come few and far between. After crossing the Carmen bridge over to Villasis, our van took the side street passing thru Pias, then Carusucan and finally, into Poblacion, Asingan .

 

We arrived in Asingan late at night .The next day, Manong Lilo ( the source of many of my stories ) met us and so did his kids and grandkids. It is always emotional to meet relatives whom you have not seen in years. The first days in Asingan are always exciting. Then depending on the daily agenda of the next days, things could drag on slowly into a standstill

This would be the time when you would need the laptop---#

(more to come)

A FEEDBACK FROM FE

Fe Ramos Esteban sent the following e-mail:

hi manong vic. how are you... opening the asinganian journal has now become a part of my daily routine.   you could always bring your laptop to asingan. buy a prepaid internet card about P100 which is good for 10 hours, connect the laptop to the landline and presto enjoy your emails. no problem too at the airport. in fairness to the airport customs, the sharks are gone!!! if you can't bring your laptop there's an internet cafe located at the ground floor of mr. conrado legaspi's house.    

******************************

manong vic, villar's bakery had closed a long time ago. you could not recognize the place anymore except for the house of the blando's. adjacent to where the bakery used to be is now a gasoline station.  

Hi Fe,

I am sorry re: the bit concerning the custom "sharks." Since you are actually living in there ( both Asingan and Manila ) I guess you are the authority. The custom inspectors actually do not ask anything but it became a habit for many visitors to slip a fiver into their passport as they go through this last gauntlet..just so the boxes won't be opened anymore. Some say they did not give them anything but they were able to go through with unopened luggages. But the really annoying character I met last time (2003) is the decent looking guy who helped us with our luggage. He said it is part of his job in the airport. He did not help us thru the Customs but brought us until the designated waiting areas for passengers. Once we were there he asked us for a Christmas gift, money of course. I dont even know if the guy really worked for the airport or not...

 

FEED BACK FROM LITO

Hi Vic:I enjoyed reading your hot Pandesal (Rolls) story... Do the still have that Bakery in Asingan? I remember when we had our trek to Agpay we bought our rolls there. Did you still remember our Trek to Agpay that would be good topic for you to write about....

Lito ( Domaoan )

Hi Manong Lito,

I do not know if Crispin Villar's bakery is still there...But I went inside  there as a kid..There was  a huge clay oven..The smell is heavnly..Guys there made lots of bread ( but I do not mean moolah )..The work starts from dawn ( pan de sal production ) until afternoon when they made Pan de Cacao..Or the smaller Pan de Leche...I tried selling some of them a couple of times then I got sick so I gave up...But there is a retail store in the first floor and I frequently bought the different pastries there...Balintawak, pan de coco, Pasensiya,  etc.  We bought a bag of snacks then we go   to the fountain or the monument of the plaza to help ourselves..When I was asked by my sisters to buy Pan de Cacao before I always ate my share before I give them the bag of the rolls.

Now a days, I think there are numerous stay at home bakers who produce pastries and sell them in their homes..Many of them are graduates of the ASAT: Asingan School of Arts and Trades...

Thanks for  reminding me of Agpay..Will surely write about it!! There might be photos of Agpay in the San Nicolas web page...

HOT PAN DE SAL, ANYONE?

One of the items in my THINGS TO DO IN ASINGAN LIST was to buy hot pandesal every morning. Yes, I missed the Villar hot pandesal..One time they had this variety which was really big and crusty. But it was discontinued when the prices of basic commodities in the Philippines went sky high. The only similar bread I can compare it with in size but not in taste is the Italian bread. But back to my story.

So at 4:00 am that first day in Asingan I was already awake. When I heard the honking of the bicycle horns in the marketside area, I slowly went down from our house down to the roadside just to wait for the first vendor that would pass by on its way to Macalong. For some reasons, there were just a few of the bread-on-wheel cyclists..As I heard one approaching my way, all of a sudden it turned 90 degrees and proceeded to Domanpot. Drat, I whispered. My stomach started to grumble. The house dog was already beside my feet wondering probably what I was doing there at that hour before daybreak. A few minutes later the dog dissapeared. He probably went back to sleep.

After another 20 mins. maybe, the honking came again from Domanpot and came straight at me. I used the accepted way to get attention in Asingan: PSSSST! The kid stopped and came to me. The bread was in a container at the back carrier of the bike. Wow, it really smelled good. One small bag cost 5 pesos. I bought 4. "Could you shine your flashlight on me?" I said as I opened my wallet. I want to be sure I would be handing him 20 pesos instead of 20 dollars. Before he left, he said "I can drop off the pandesal in your house on my way to Macalong, then come back on my way home in the morning, to collect the money" he said. "Oh, can you do that? Thank you" That was the accepted method done when I was still a kid. Yes, some things never change in Asingan.

I didn't want him to go up the 2nd floor of our house just to deliver the goodies. The stairs are so dark and he might slip and break a leg. "OK, just put the bread on top of the car,."I said. My brother in law Tony had an car parked in our front yard. In that way, I won't be waking up so early. "OK" he said before he wheeled away. I went up the house with my "treasure". The dog came back and I tossed him a couple of the goodies.

Well, the next day, I was awakened by the barking of the dog. It was already early morning. "What the hell?" I muttered as I looked down what the commotion was all about.

I forgot that my brother in law was also raising turkeys and they were roaming loose on the grounds. The bag of pan de sal was left there on top of the car. And so was a smaller turkey who managed to fly or climb up to the top of the car. The other turkeys were down on the ground  waiting hungrily, staring at their buddy who was already pecking away at one of the pan de sal bags.And the dog barked continously at the bird who didnt seem to give a rat's ass. I could almost hear the fricking bird exclaim: "Mmmmm...good breakfast!"

Thanksgiving or not, I really wanted to wring  that turkey's neck as I rushed down to save what was left that morning of my hot pandesal. ----#

INTERNET SEARCHING IN ASINGAN

Once you start using a Computer you become addicted to it..When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is to check if I have e-mails that arrived in the night. Every day that God makes.Sometimes I get good ones, most of the time I get garbage..

So when I was in Asingan in 2003, the first thing I did was to ask where I can go to check e-mails...My sister Ester suggested PSU, her place of work. So we had to take a tricycle go to the middle of the fields ( the ketegan between Domanpot and Bactad), then climb up 4 flights of stairs to the highest floor of the building. I was about to ask some students "Dont you have an elevator here?" but they might feel insulted. I don't like to look like a dork in there, knowing that Asingan is still my birthplace. Anyways..

So I entered the Computer Department. There were several computers there being used by students. A newcomer in PSU would find it hard to distinguish between Instructors and students. My sister refered me to an Instructor in Computer Science. He went to the Internet on the most reliable PC in the room and said, "OK, Sir, you go ahead.."

Silently I said, "If I can get into AOL here in Asingan, it will be the biggest miracle since the parting of the Red Sea.." I typed AOL Anywhere on the Computer. I waited, waited, waited...Then it finally brought me to the familiar environment of AOL.Yessss! .But only in my mailbox..Well, thats all I want anyway.There was no AOL Software in that PC..So my day was completed.Although I did not find any interesting e-mails, I was happy. Tommorow I have to either come back here to PSU which is a pain in the ass because of its location, or find another decent PC in Poblacion.

The next day, I met Alex Romero my kumpare. He told me they have a PC in school and his wife Mare Menchie has also one in their house.."Thanks heavens, "I said.."Can it get AOL?" "I dont know, you have to find out.The only thing I know in that Computer is to play Pinball"..Pare Alex answered.

I was able to contact Mare Menchie later.. I used the PC in North Central School. I brought my Digital Camera too and I took her photo with some other teachers, then showed them how to use the digital photo as a Desktop Art. "You can print these, you know" I told her. "But you need a printer.." She said she have a printer but finding photo papers in Asingan is like trying to find snowflakes in July.."Nobody likes to sell you papers, even in Urdaneta or Dagupan" she said.."they are reserving it for their own use.." But anyway, I was able to e-mail my friends in California.." You know where I am writing this e-mail?..Here in Asingan!!" I told them..I felt like a man sending a message from the moon!

Well, I recently bought a laptop..Just in case I could take another holiday in Asingan..But then, where can I use it in Asingan?..There are no wireless relay systems in Asingan ( at least not when I was there ) ..Maybe if I do take another holiday in Asingan, I guess I will just leave my laptop here in Toronto..Anything can happen on the way from Toronto to Asingan and from Asingan back to Toronto..And when I say anything it is REALLY anything. Especially all with those sharks at the Airport customs area waiting for a good bite.--#

 

Re: The Story written by Arsenio Macanas

Hi Vic

I believe his story because it s quite similar to what happened to my Grandpa Alvaro. But the difference is that my grandfather survived. It is a  very long story He had quite an ordeal trying to defend himself from numerous ghost soldiers who were trying to decapitate him.

Lito

PLAYING BARTENDER ( or is it Bartendress?)

Every other weekend, Mia and Emma pay us a visit..Somehow our house lightens up a bit when these two children come in to play..Emma, 6 is still more on the playing stage; Mia, 12 is now more on reading or watching juvenile TV programs. Last week end, Emma discovered the bar in the basement and she had quite a time playing bartender with a favorite customer, Grandpa! She served non alcoholic drinks of course!

MY GRANDFATHER VS. THE GRIM REAPER

A True Story by Arsenio Macanas

edited by VCostes

Around 1930's, Cabingcolan was still a remote area with nothing around but the wilderness. Electricity came to Asingan only in the late '50s. My vivid impression of remote places at that time was dread. I mean you know, to reach and visit your neighbor you have to walk through thick bushes and trees. Now imagine nights with no source of light except the stars and moon, and you have to walk using a lamp or a flashlight. Spooky huh?

People said my grand father was a respectable man. He was brave and courteous toward strangers. He was a man who doesn’t believe in superstitious stuff. He and my grandmother inherited from my great grandparents(Escorpiso on my mother side) a huge piece of property. It is too bad we never saw those properties in our time. My grandmother was pregnant to my mother then.

At twillight, he would be outside their house with his machete cutting bushes and trees. Everyone at that time would already be home except him. One day, he was socializing with his friends when an old man approached them asking for help. The old man looked filthy, bone-skinny and sick ( no elaboration where he came from). The sun has gone down, and my grandfather was still with the old man. They talked and my grandfather accepted the old man’s plea for help. My grandmother was surprised when an unexpected guest came home with her husband. She was more surprised the next day when my grandfather was building a bahay kubo ( a nipa hut ) in the back yard to shelter the old man. I learned my grandfather was also a great philanthropist.

Then two months later, in the middle of a dark night, everybody's expectation came true.The old man was dying, hollering like a beast, screaming and crying for help. My grand father hastened to get up from bed, grabbed his machete, and entered the bahay kubo to help the old man. While he was inside with the old man dying, he was hearing people outside and murmuring, he told them to come inside, he said ( a sinno kayo? Umoneg kayo ). Nobody answered him back. The indistinct sounds became louder. When he went up to call them the voices stopped, So he grabbed a lamp and went outside. He saw nobody. So he stepped back inside but he sensed something or somebody in his back and as he turned his head, he saw a tall man in black with a scythe (That sounded like the grim reaper to me). He drew his machete and he asked him desperately to go leave.He even swunghis machete toward him many times until the man in black disappeared in the dark. He went back inside and the old man appeared calm.

Then it was the turn for my grandfather to feel sick.He decided to go home and wake up my grandmother. He said, "I feel weak and my head hurts." My grand mother asked "How’s the old man?" He answered, "he is in there quite OK after all." They went to bed but he couldn't sleep. Since he can’t sleep, he managed to tell the whole story to my grandmother. She noticed he looked paranoid and he kept repeating his story. Eventually, he fell asleep.

Next morning they found the old man dead in his shelter but my grandfather was still in bed. He was still sick, vomiting, head aches, the whole works. After three days they buried the old man. My grandfather, meanwhile was getting worse, so they called a local Medicine Man(albulario). They found out that he doesn’t have a shadow from his head. He never got better from "albulario."treatment. Eventually, they called a doctor but he remained the same. Three months later, he passed away.

I heard this story from my laki Ilas when I was in college and it was confirmed by my mother. My mom said, "You can ask anybody in Cabingcolan especially the old folks if they are still alive". My Mom and Laki Ilas story are identical, but Laki Ilas' story was rich in details. -----#

Epilogue:My Lolo Ilas  told me that the reason why my granpa died, ( he heard it from the albularyo that he read it from the chicken blood reading called atang)... the grim reaper(kamatayan) got hurt so bad. My grandpa cut his head from his machete.So instead the ghost is  headless...it's my granpa! The albularyo said, "Imbales da keniya na". I thought ghost & Kamatayan are the same, because when lolo Ilas was telling me the story he always said ghost and my mom too. When I learned from the description of their story "a tall man wearing black hood and with scythe." that's kamatayan ( death looks like, in popular art anyway ). God Bless us all and may He always protect us from these evil spirits! ---#

UNEXPLAINABLE EVENTS

Victorio Costes

Our house in Asingan is already very old, built around 1920 and never had been completely rebuilt. About 2 generations have lived and died here, first my grandparents then followed by my parents 50 years later. I left it in 1975 when I came with my family to Toronto. It was 1n 1988 when I took my first holiday to Asingan together with my family to visit my parents who were still alive by then. In 1990, my wife and I came home together by ourselves. It was on our first night in Asingan in this trip that I encountered an eeire event.

We slept in the first floor ( silong ) of the house on this night. My sister Ester and family were in the adjoining room. At around the middle of the night, I was awaken by the sound of slippers walking around our bed. The lights were off, but a long string connected to a switch on the bulb's socket was hanging right beside me. The sound of the slippers going round the bed continued after I was completely awake. I wanted to see who it was, so I pulled the string to switch on the light. There was no one there. Not even were there slippers on the floor. When I asked my wife the next morning, she said "Yes I heard it too," but she is a sound sleeper, unlike me.

The very first sound ( or voice ) I heard in our property in Asingan took place when I was still in the Elementary grades. At that time, the Sampaga studio owned by my brother in law was not still there. It was a garden made up of wild plants or vegetables. Sometimes the saluyot plants there grow very high and you can hide there if you like. Plus there was this old acacia tree with a vine wrapped around its trunk. The vine looked like a big snake. I was inside the garden, starting to dig a plot for a vegetable garden..Then I heard a voice that said: "What are you doing?" It was a male voice, very deep and pleasant to hear, like a radio announcer's. When I turned around, there was nobody there. I stopped my digging and went back to the house. I told my family about it but they said I was just imagining things.

The same voice sounded to me a second time. This time it was the eve of the town fiesta. Everybody went to the plaza except me. I was in my bedroom browsing over some magazines. Again I heard a voice saying "What are you doing?". I looked around. I was the only one in the room. It was the same voice which I heard in the garden about a few months back. Needless to say, I left the room, put on my shoes and wentto look for my family in the plaza.

There is a term in our supernatural culture called MALUGANAN. In English, it means "taken over" particularly by another spirit or being. A few weeks before my Mom died, I was in Asingan for a few weeks. She was already bedridden and her mind is already senile. She was sleeping the living room where it is cooler. I woke up one night because I heard a man's voice talking loudly in the living room where my Mom was. I peered out from the door of my room. There was nobody there except my Mom who was lying down. There was a very dim light beside her and the whole living room looked like a scenery from some of the horror movies I have seen. Then I took control of myself and went out slowly approaching my Mother's bed. The man's voice was still talking. I looked around the room. I was relieved to find nobody there. Then I stepped right in front of my Mom. Her lips were moving, but her voice is still the same man's voice..Then I said.."Mother, what are you saying?"

Her eyes opened..'Ah?" she said. Her voice was already her normal one.She continued to talk softly but incoherently. The man's voice is gone.

How can one explain these events?..Nobody can. But they happen and people just dont talk about them openly so as not to become the object of ridicule. I think I am not the only one who had these experiences. And they still happen to me once in a while.----#

ANOTHER GHOST STORY

by Angelito Domaoan

When we were still in Seattle we lived in a ranch house ( we own it ) with 4 or 5 outside steps going up the house. For security, we decided to put some iron grills on the front and back windows. We also decided to put some steel doors with steel screen for protection from bad elements.

Our work then started at 7am in the morning, the reason beng almost all of our suppliers and customers are in the east coast. West coast is behind by three hours. At 5 in the morning we were already awoke.At that time my wife and I were in the kitchen preparing our lunch. Then suddenly somebody started knocking at the same time trying to turn the door knob. But what I could not understand was .how could he or she could have accessed the door knob on our back doorway. If you are outside you can't turn the door knob without opening the steel door which was covered with steel screen. That door is always LOCKED at night! Since it was still dark outside I opened the outside light on the door to see who was outside.

Woooo...I didn't see anyone outside the door! The door knob continued to turn, the knocking continued to echo .It seemed the knocker was INSIDE the house.! I felt our hair was standing on an end. Me and my wife started praying prayers for the dead. After 10 minutes of praying the doorknob stopped turning and the knocking stopped.. We didnt even know that all the time my mother in law was watching all that was happening.

I am now a person who prays a lot. When I recite my rosary it takes me almost two hours to finish it because I pray for the soul of many departed (whether my parents grandparents relative's friend in acquaintances, officemates,neighbors etc) I mentioned each of their names.There is nothing more powerful than a sincere, heartfelt PRAYER!

One night I dreamed that I was on my room laying on my bed when suddenly my sister came with an older woman who was carrying a fruit basket for
me. My sister introduced her to me as a mother of the President of this great country the USA.She mentioned her whole name which I remembered so vividly.

That morning I was scanning a prestigious newspaper when I saw the photo of the same woman that I dreamed of. She has exactly the same name that my sister mentioned it my dream.. This woman died of an illness. Since that day I added her name into the names of the people I am praying for.

TWO GHOST STORIES FROM LITO DOMAOAN

This incident happened in the late 50 when I was studying and working at the same time.. I was then living with my uncle but I was also contributing for the rent of the room. Since I was a working student, I didn't have time to wash my clothes, so we hired somebody to do this job . She was Manang Erlinda ( not her real name) I worked in the Hospital from 11pm to 7am in the morning, then at 3pm I attended my subjects in Bachelors Degree in Commerce, major in Accounting. During those times there were few people with Television sets. so people tend to go to other peoples house to watch through the window  especially if their living room is located under the house.

One night after coming from school ( about 9pm) I passed by the house of one of our townmates. With some people outside that house watching TV was Manang Erlinda. I stopped and conversed with her for a bit. Then I greeted her goodnight after asking her what kind of program  was on TV. She was smiling all the time. It so happenned that night that I was off duty so I went to bed to get that badly needed rest. I fell asleep immediately.

Then around midnight, I heard a commotion in our neighborhood. Some people were crying. I asked my uncle what it was all about. He said,. "They brought home Erlinda's body from the hospital. She died about 4 pm yesterday".

"What are you talking about??" I exclaimed. "I just saw her last night and I even spoke to her. I also greeted her goodnight!".

My uncle said: "How could you speak to her. She was rushed to the hospital at about 11 am yesterday..She was having a difficult time delivering her baby.She had been in the hospital since that time and at about 4pm, she died! How could you have talked to a dead woman at 9pm last night!".

My uncle almost knew everyone in the neighborhood. He asked those  whom he thought were watching TV on the window that night. Nobody saw me pass by. They said there are only two people watching TV on that time, and Erlinda is not one of them..I could not believe it, but it happened!

Almost the same time that night, a soldier who was also a boarder in that house went to the bathroom to pee. Upon entering the bathroom he saw Erlinda standing in the corner staring at him. He turned about, and almost fell from the stairs as he ran down. You see, he already knew that Erlinda died that afternoon. In his frightened state, he forgot to urinate!

***********

Here's another one. I was in High School at that time. Usually during Halloween (Fiesta ng Patay), we would have many  visitors especially relatives coming from Manila or Lingayen. This time I chose to sleep in a room adjacent to our dining room. This was in my grandfather's house. I was all by myself inside that big spacious room.Near me were the big pictures of my great great grandfather and grandmother hang on the wall. The pictures were staring at me as  I was about lying there, trying to catch my sleep.

At about midnight or 1 am, I happened to look at the dining table which I could see from my room. I saw my grandfather Laki Alvaro seated in one of those chairs preparing to make his nga nga ( a mixture of bettlenut, chewing leaves and etc) I said to myself why should my grandpa chew at this time of the night?

I can't understand it at that time. So I stared hard at the figure seated on the chair .Instead being afraid, I was relieved that at least I had company. So I fell asleep.

Next morning I asked my grandpa why he was preparing his nga nga in the middle of the night that night. I told him:" I saw you sitting on the chair opposite my bed. He sounded annoyed and  said "why should I do that??I was asleep the whole night!" But I insisted seeing him seated on the chair beside me.

What you have seen was probably my father's ghost," he said calmly. "Your great grandpa he looked exactly like me when he was still alive..".

My grandpa was a very serious person so I believed him! And that was Fiesta ng Patay!-----#

Angelito Domaoan

 

ASINGAN ‘”LAST NAMES”

by Johnny Pascua

Can you still remember the Spanish  Gov. in the Philippines who gave surnames to the Pilipinos? So many Spanish last names but in ourtown , we have heard lots of ILOCANO surnames and until now they are being used , example .One of our classmates was William Ragadi, the neighbor of Tata Felix Domaoan. The other example of Ilocano surnames are : Palpal (Poblacion); Licudan: &; Domalanta (San Vicente Este) Pula (Toboy) Paet (Bantog) Bagay (Dupac) Mabanglo (Dupac); Colcol (Macalong & Sobol) ; Quidem (San Vucente Este); Ulep (Pob & Car. Norte)Langit (pob) Bucsit (Western Pob.) Chan (pob & San Vicente Este)Padayao Pob. & Domanpot) Pagay (Pob)Romuar (Toboy), may be you can add some more ……okay????? How about Pico (Pick axe)

How about First names and they are also used as Last names?.......example…….Mr. Pablo, Miss Antonio, Mariano, Martin, Santiago, Tomas, Juan, Pedro, ……How about days of the week like Domingo Pascua, Domingo Ramos, Sabado Gloria, , Mr. Viernes….about insects……Mosquito (Car, Norte) and How about this…..Bautista,  Botuyan , Butuyan…(Baro & Car. Norte)…Palpallatoc. ……pls. add some more……

**********************

Gee, those years behind the teacher's desk really gave you a wealth of knowledge about local names huh?..The few ones I can add are: My sister's married name is Lomboy..and when they made their screen name it was eat_lomboy with eat meaning ester,anna, teresa ..Ester and her 2 daughters..My buddy Ben Hur Soloria was given that name by her Mom because she saw the Ramon Navarro version of the movie ( black and white version ). There were many mothers in the US  at that time who named their sons that way at that time..So I call him the only Asinganian Jew.When I was working in Laguna, I heard re: an employee named Susan..When Susan met me for the first time, I found out she was a young man! But he is in doubt of his sexuality ( u know what I mean )..Then I asked for his REAL name. "Sir, it is Zosimo.."

SNAKESSSS...part2

by Ben Soloria

I hate snakes, myself.  If I visit a zoo, I skip the snakes area.  I had two traumatic experiences when I was growing up in Dupac.  The first incident happened in the school yard by the mango tree that belonged to Uncle Placido (Orallo).  His family's lot was adjacent to the school yard.  Unlike in America (or elsewhere), child labor was tapped to clean up the school and its premises.  School had just opened in the month of June and the school grounds were overgrown notably with sticker bursts (puriket) and all kinds of weeds.  I was 5th grade.  The school garden where 5th grade boys learn a little bit of horticulture and agriculture was relocated from it's old site to the northwestern corner of the school yard.  Mr. Roman Agapito, our  teacher wanted us to clean up the area first before he would assign us our individual plots for gardening.  He instructed us to form a line facing north towards the Orallo property and then told us to stretch
our arms sideways.  The land area corresponding to the width of our stretched arms from where each pupil stood  to the boundary of the school yard and the next private property, was each boy's area of responsibility to clean up.  We were armed with sickles.  Dutifully, we squatted on the damp ground and started to weed out our assigned areas.  Pidong Ordonio, an older boy in my class was late for the clean up ritual.  As he approached our area, he noticed something sticking up above the weeds a few feet in front of me (he told me later.)  Without a word, he grabbed my shirt collar and dragged me on my back, a position which allowed me to get a good sight of a
snake's head propped to strike.  The snake didn't seem to be bothered by the commotion.  Pidong grabbed a flat stick from the ground and threw it like a boomerang, and got the snake down.  Still lying on my back on the ground, I saw Mr. Agapito's jaws dropped in disbelief.  He came to me and said, "Okenam, nagistay ka natayen!"  (Pidong, if you are still out there, I owe you my life, man.)

      Years later, I was on my way to Macalong from our house in Dupac.  It was harvestime for the so-called second crop - rice planted after December or January.  The long rainy season in the Philippines was just starting and all the brooks, creeks and tributaries were overflowing with water.

Well, to get to my destination, I had to cross a man-made irrigation canal.  There was a tree trunk laid out as a bridge over the canal.  The water was high, so that all the debris floating on the water were stuck underneath the tree-trunk-bridge. 

As I got in the middle of the bridge, I playfully stuckmy foot underneath the floating debris and attempted to clear that area with my bare foot.  I felt something slimy touched my foot but paid no attention to it.  When I raised my foot, there was a snake hanging on my foot. Whew, I break out a sweat until now everytime I recall that experience.

By some magic, I ran over that little trunk bridge without falling into the
water!

THE PHOTOGRAPHER AND THE PRIEST

This anecdote was related to me by my brother in law Manong Lilo and was related to him also by his father,  known known to me as Tata Pili.

Tata Pili was one of the earliest photographers in Asingan. Now a days, digital photography makes use of a totally new array of gadgets: very compact cameras, memory cards instead of expensive films and home printers which are so easy and relatively inexpensive to use in your den or basement.. No more darkrooms or bad smelling chemicals that would stink up your clothes or blacken your fingernails.

But during those days, even the 35 mm cameras were still unknown in Asingan. The professional photographers used heavy clunkers of cameras that needed those wooden tripods similar to the ones used by land surveyors for their surveying equipment. After setting the camera ( sometimes called Arriflex or Speed Graflex , who knows now; you can only see these things now in flea markets or in museums ) on a tripod, they used a big black sheet to cover it, then the letratista would peer into the back of the camera on a translucent glass ( a viewer) to check the focus and position of what he is shooting. Sometimes the image is upside down. All these adjustments he did under the black sheet to give him a bright image of his subject whether it is a wedding party or a stiff snuggled comfortably in a coffin. The story took place after a funeral mass done in one of the churches in Asingan.

So everybody was outside watching the photographer do his thing. Setting up his paraphernalia sometimes took several minutes. After setting up the focus and position of the camera the next step to do would be to insert the film pack. It is a black thin box, light proof but containing a single sheet of 5" by 7" raw film. The black box is then inserted in the back of the camera right where the viewer is. Then carefully not to disturb the setting of the camera and the tripod, he would carefully remove a panel of the film box which is now inside the camera. The film is now ready to expose. Then he would click the shutter of the lens which opened just a few seconds. Thats it. Next, he would go under the sheet again to cover the film box. He keeps the film box in a safe place, disassemble the camera set up so he can accompany the funeral party to the cemetery for the last shots. But the story took place in front of the church. The camera was there covered with the black sheet and a few feet away was the coffin and the stiff on its way for his last trip to the cemetery.

The actual story started when tata Pili left his camera ( it was set up already ) to get something. A minute afterwards, the priest came out of the church saw the camera and curiosity got hold of him. During those days the priests were wearing these long black albs that flowed past their knees. These were of the same color as the sheet covering the camera. Anyway the priest wanted to see whats under the black sheet. He lifted it peered inside and like a photographer he covered himself with it. The camera cover blended perfectly with the priestly garment. It was a hot, humid afternoon and wearing those garments seem to be quite a "sacrifice" for the clergy then.

All of a sudden, Tata Pili rushed back to his work. He was in a real hurry and he did not notice that somebody else was under the camera sheet. Without thinking he just pulled up the black sheet in front of him. Surprise, surprise! He saw a naked ass bent slightly forward. Tata Pili almost fell to the ground. And the priest, after feeling a slight draft uncovered his head from the camera sheet, put down his alb, looked around at a few smiling faces then he rushed away and made a beeline to his convent as fast as you can say "Holy Buttocks!"

Manong Lilo really got a kick relating this anecdote. It is one of his funniest yet. He said.."Well you can't blame anybody there..My father was on the rush. The weather was so hot that afternoon. I guess thats the reason why the priest did not use his underwear at that time. But the sacristans and some neighbours said they heard the priest screaming bullshit and puneta for several hours afterwards."----#

FEEDBACKS

Manong Vic, your story is  pleasantly novel and completely proven by Sammy Antonio. I heard those stories from my high school classmates who lived in the “pungto ti Macalong”. His name is Antonio Ordonio,  a taradiddle among  my classmates. He is good  telling  scary stories, especially in front of the girls. Sometimes we (guys) called him “palabras”…Anyway, I thought that story is purely fiction. My friend Sammy, how are you? How’s McAllen? Did I mention to you that I’d been there? I think so. Hey! Keep posting my friend and join us, I know you are only there watching. To Remi, Alexandria, thank you for the heartfelt condolences.

*****************

To Arsenio, Yes, I always read your stories together with Manong Vic's journals. Yes u mention to me that you've been here in McAllen before. Its a lot different now. Lots of new subdivisions and businesses. Boy Tiglao from San Diego came over not long time ago. Going back to the scary stories, Manong Vic is asking what do I mean when i say "white house"?I am refering to the cemetery. Really, there are lot of scary stories related to this "white house" of Asingan. Incidentally, I am not one of those who encountered such scary experiences. Mine is different. I kinda' like walking home with some friends after a brief escapade in the town plaza during town fiestas. Of course with some friends (girls and boys alike). It was in this dark road with some bad spirit as witness (who knows) that i was able to reap the "yes" of my first girlfriend. As we walked home, dahil sa takot ay napapahawak siya sa aking kamay at tuloy napa-oo ko siya. Kaya siguro hindi kami nagkatuluyan ay masamang mga spiritu ang mga nasa paligid namin. Lesson of the story: not all scary places are scary after all.

********

Now, I remember..Yes, I heard that phrase "white house" decades ago when I was still in Gr. 5...

Thanks, guys!

THE GHOST WHO WAS AFRAID TO DIE

This story is not fictitious, it was related to me by my brother Donato (Atong) Costes quite sometime ago.

When we were still in Asingan, my brother operated a McCormick rice thresher ( locally called a TILLADORA) ..It is a big machine ( ran by a tractor) that refined the stalks of palay.The rice stalks were thrown into the machine and palay came out in one opening at the bottom...Anyway, during the harvest season my brother brought the machine ( together with a tractor and a crew of workers ) to different barrios of Asingan to thresh palay. One of these is Macalong. Sometimes, they thresh at night in the rice fields when it is cooler. My brother, who is quite fearless ( and I will tell you why later ) would pass by the cemetery on foot almost every night if his TILLADORA is stationed in Macalong.

Now during those days there were some pranksters who liked to hang out in the Asingan cemetery at night.It was their idea of a "happy hour.".Proves to you that ghosts do not exist in the" white house". But what these guys did, after some bottles of MARKA DEMONYO with "pulutan", would be to scare passers by. One way is by donning on a white bedsheet, stand on one of those tombs near the wall facing the street, make those blood curling wails and wave both hands at passersby. Well, any "victim" given the situation ( darkness and solitude of the cemetery ) would really be scared shitless if he/she saw that "apparition" jump on top of the cemetery wall.

My brother heard about it but as far as I know, he did not believe in spooks. Even if his workers warned him about going home late from Macalong, he merely said, "Oh, I will be okay.."

Then one night, his work was done at almost 1:00 am and he had to walk home to the Poblacion from Macalong. As he was nearing the cemetery gate, he heard some people screaming . It made him walk faster to check out what was the matter. There it was, the "ghost" of the "white house", waving its hands and wailing like a banshee. As my brother approached him, the "ghost" turned to him too and started his act.

From underneath his jacket, my brother took out a hand gun and pointed it at him. Immediately the ghost screamed and threw away the bedsheet.." Manong, manong do not shoot me! I am really _______( his actual name ). I know you!"

My brother shouted an expletive in Ilocano and he lowered his gun. The ghost dissapeared from the wall and he was never, ever seen again!---#

a FEEDBACK FROM SAMMY

Manong Vic, I am one of your many avid readers of your journal and e-mails (esp. with Arsenio and Sir Johnny P.) After reading your "scary story" i can't help but reminisce my childhood and teen-ager days. As we all know, the White house is located in Macalong. During the days the sight is very nice with the Bangar tree as backdrop. The tree blooms nice flowers before they become a hanging ball like fruits. We used to play with these balls but never tasted the nuts inside it. I should have. But during the night as we pass by after going to the town plaza before and during the town fiesta is another story. We had to close our eyes as we traversed the dark street in front of the white house. We remember those stories about the pig with fiery and burning eyes. (Kayo pala ang pinagmulan nito), white ladies and "kapre" hanging on those big branches of the bangar tree. Those were the days (circa 60's and 70's) when the once tall tree hovers and dominates above other trees and plants. Sad to say, these trees were extinct due to natural calamity such as typhoons and poor conservation. They were never replanted or replaced. What a loss for the next generations. People are not just aware of the benefits these trees provides. But what can we say? So long and goodbye to the BANGAR tree.

***************

Thanks for your feedback, Sammy..The pig story was contributed by Angelito Domaoan, an Asinganian now residing in New Jersey. But I did hear a lot of stories about that pig, mostly from my classmates from Macalong who were quite good story tellers themselves. Another version is that the pig starts as a piglet, then it changes into a boar ( still following you ) then it becomes a horse, still following you. Have you ever heard the story of the rolling mat or a live coal that keeps hopping about? Some say if you can catch that coal you will posses a "talisman" or "anting-anting".This time it is you who will run after the thing instead of the other way round. Or how about the story about a tricycle driver who picked up a lady in Poblacion at night. The lady asked him to bring her to Macalong. As the motorcab reached the cemetery the lady asked the driver to stop. Then out came the passenger, this time with blood soaked bandages on her face..Story said it really scared the s...t out of the driver ( who wouldn't?) and he became a raving lunatic! Then there is the story about the roadside bamboo trees who would bow down and try to trap you if you happen to pass by these really desolated streets in the town with bamboo clumps left and right. Somebody told me that to escape the "ghostly bamboos", you remove all your clothes ( I mean all) and the bamboos will snap back into place. But do not forget to put on your clothes back as you return back to your house.

 Is the White house ( with apologies to Pres. Bush ) you are refering to the Asingan cemetery itself? Or just a particular tomb inside the cemetery?Its my first time to hear the word used with regards to Asingan stories.

 

I personally never saw any apparition in Asingan. But I did hear weird sounds inside our house there. But I will tell it more in detail another  time --#

MORE SCARY STORIES FROM ASINGAN

by Lito Domaoan

I was required like everybody else in grade 5, to guard our garden at night to deter those people who might want to destroy or steal our vegetables. We had radish, cabbage, pechay etc. I was determined not to guard because my Aunt disliked it. When it's my turn to guard the garden with some other kids , my aunt hired somebody to take my place. ( I hated my garden teacher for requiring us to guard our garden at night and for his arimpuyot, a painful sort of physical punishment It is a big pinch in the crotch.!)..

The kids who stayed there overnight told lots of weirds things that appeared at night. One was a woman wearing a flowing white dress. She did not look like a Filipina but more like a Spanish, American or a halfbreed (mestiza). Sometimes the apparition takes the form of an animal. I get easily scared when I was a kid. My imagination was very active especially across the street from the garden is the Asingan cemetery. I heard there were lots of ghosts coming out at of their graves at midnight.

One December, I, my sisters, cousins and other kids went caroling first in poblacion then we decided to go to Macalong. To go to Macalong, we had to pass by the cemetery surrounded by those big bangar trees. We were talking and singing so loud, that we didn't notice a big pig following us. Then we heard it making a weird noise. I looked around and I saw a huge pig with a burning eyes that glow in the dark. At first I ignored it. Then I told the other kids, "Adda ti nagdackel nga baboy na sumursurot" (There is a big pig following us). One of the other kid looked back but he said "Awan met" ( There is nothing). But we were already near the cemetery. I looked around I still saw the big pig with glowing eyes... I got frightened and cried "adda al-alia!" (There is a ghost!) Immediately, everybody turned back, screamed, and ran as fast as they can. Many of us lost their slippers or wooden clogs in the process. And some of them were brand new!

Those bangar trees bordering the cemetry were something. The positive thing about the bangar trees is that these are so tall and beautiful. One classmate brought to school some bangar nuts, and we all tasted them and they were so good! ( I never tasted a nut which is so good even tasted better than the nuts being sold here in the US).

Well, when the tree started to bear nuts again we decided to go and gather some. But the nuts were hanging on the tree's high branches. They were so high we had to throw a piece of wood or stone just to make the nuts fall down.Somebody cautioned us to very carefull in throwing stones. We might hit invisible, supernatural beings in the branches. . So before we casted a stone or a branch, we chanted " Bari bari Lake, Bae!" Lake means grandpa, bae means grandma, I dont know what bari-bari means in English. But it is like saying "Excuse me" to the the invisible spirits residing on the trees' branches.(People used this phrase too in Asingan when they pass by an anthill in the fields.It means "May I pass?" to whoever is residing in that anthill. Of course ants reside there that's why these are called anthills. But others think a small powerful goblin called KA-EBB-BA-AN lives there. If you pass his "house" without asking permission, or if you kick it for fun, next day you will get sore boils all over you. If a person has uncurable skin diseases, people say it was a "punishment" from the KA-EBB-BA-AN.)

I remember vividly, during the time I was studying in Manila, I meet one of my former classmates in one of my subjects at the Far Eastern University. After our usual greetings, he asked me from where I came from. Upon learning that I am from Asingan. He asked me if I know certain Asinganians..I said I know them, when he told me their names. He said that they all died mysteriously just because they started cutting the bangar trees in the cemetery. Some died immediately, others died after a couple of weeks.

Now I believe that the bangar trees are probably the abode of supernatural beings. Or the conclave of dead people's spirits.

If those trees are still there, wanna try cutting them?

some more stories to come From Angelito E. Domaoan

SNAKESSSSS...!

  One creature that scared me before when I was a kid was the snake. Unlike Toronto snakes, Philippine reptiles are mostly poisonous. The only poisonous snake hereabouts is the Missisauga rattler which I have not had the pleasure of seeing yet.When I take a walk around our neighbourhood ( it is near a river )  I sometimes would see a snake crossing the road.In my mind I know that it is not poisonous, but seeing it there alive would still give me the goosepimples.  

 

When I was a kid, I was fond of going over stuff stored in boxes behind our bedroom wardrobe. To kids there is a kind of magic in opening sealed boxes, like you might find a treasure map, or rare comic books or maybe money. You will never know what you will find in there. In my case, upon opening a box of old clothes, I found a black snake curled asleep.  

 

My first reaction was to scream and run away from the box and told my father about what I saw..I was trembling so badly he took a piece of wood and went to it see for himself. I was still too shaken to approach those boxes so I just waited outside in the living room..   "What snake are you talking about?" I heard my father say, while he poked  the contents of the box in question. "There is nothing here.." Not less than a minute after saying this, I heard the box fall to the floor, then I heard the continous banging of the wood on the floor..I was right after all!   When he came out, he was carrying the snake in one hand, the stick in the other. The snake's head was bashed in.It was black and even if it is dead, to me it was still a terrifying sight.  

 

Our house has lots of cracks and crevices especially in the first floor where the walls were made of red brick. One time I saw the body of a snake filling up a crevice. I poked it with a stick ready to kill it too. But it dissapeared  sinking further into the crevice.   The bricks of our house makes it easy for the creatures to crawl up and down on its surface. One time my brother and I were talking to our mom when I saw a snake slithering on the wall. My brother saw a stout stick nearby and hit the creature on the head. The color of the snake was green. Some snakes are red or brown. Whatever color it is I would hate stepping on it by accident especially if I am wearing only sandals.    

 

There was a juetengan near our house at one time. Jueteng is the forbidden game in the Philippines. It sent one President to jail.  But Filipinos still people play it, clandestinely of course.  

 

Before the drawing of the 3 lucky numbers on that morning, there was a commotion among the juetengeros. It turned out that a small python came out of a hole near the house.  The reptile was caught immediately by the men. As the numbers were not drawn yet, some players said.."OK, I will put in some more bets..They selected a set of 3 numbers which mean a big snake. I can't remember if those numbers came out in the draw or not.  

 

One time there was a small bush fire near the chruch yard in front of our house. The fire was contained immediately by passersby with dirt, water and whatever they can use to stop it from spreading. A big area of the church yard, which was full of talahib at that time was completely burned. There were about 2 big snakes, burned like  over-sized tupigs, right in the middle of it.  

 

Snakes love to sleep in trees. If a tree is beside your house back home, better get rid of it or at least prune it. A neighbour's bedroom window was jsut beside the branch of a tree in her yard. One night, as she was about to lie down on her bed, she switched on the light and screamed. There was a big snake which was already asleep on her bed. It came through the window via the tree branch. The next day, all trees around her house were pruned.    

 

Perla Sampaga Romero one of the pioneer photographers in Asingan originally had a studio ( and residence ) in the corner of the street going to Urdaneta, just in front of the Salcedo building. She is noted for being featured one time as the subject of a magazine article in the  now defunct Sunday Times magazine. The article was entitled SMALL TOWN PHOTOGRAPHER..I know this because I WAS in one of the photos. One line of the article said she developed her photo negatives at night because she had no darkroom..Well, one day she built a darkroom so she can develop her negatives in the daytime. ( Digital photography was not even been dreamt of at this time ).   She entered the darkroom to develop some negatives when she felt something bite her. She thought it was just a bug or something. Five minutes later, she began to feel weak and dizzy. In 10 minutes, a whole mob surrounded the house.

 

The local MA-NGA-GAS ( Medicine Man ) was called. He is one of the fellows who knows a little of everything from assisting mothers giving birth or fixing  a water buffalo's lame leg. From the symptoms shown by the patient, refering to nana Perla, he knew at once it was a snake bite. He first cleared the room of the unnecessary people who just came probably to see whether the patient will survive or not. He worked on removing the venom ( I dont know how he did it ) but it took him quite a long time. But Nana Perla survived the ordeal. She is the aunt of my brother-in-law, Teofilo Sampaga. -----#

CONDOLENCE

CONDOLENCE TO THE FAMILY OF FILIPE MACANAS. I HAVE KNOWN HIM THROUGH AMBASSADOR RUDY DUMAPIAS AND HIS NEPHEW ARSENIO MACANAS. MAY HIS SOUL REST IN PEACE IN THE HANDS OF OUR CREATOR.

THE TWO "HAUNTED" TREES OF ASINGAN

 I know of two "haunted" trees in Asingan, situated close to each other and located within the same area: close to the Asingan cemetery. One was a bread fruit tree locally called a PAKAK; the other is a very tall stately tree  called a BANGAR  by locals.  

The bread fruit tree may not be there anymore but it is also in front of the Municipal cemetery in Asingan. In the 50s when I was still in Gr. 5 at the Dupac Intermediate School, this tree was in the middle of the garden cultivated by the Gr. 5 students. We spent a few hours everyday tending to an assigned patch of land in that area just in front of the cemetry.   For some reasons, I hated this subject. First, we have to work under a blazing sun like prisoners. Then our teacher was a mean one whose punishment to lazy or careless students is a torture called ARIMPOYOT.

This sado masochistic punishment is to pinch the erring student in a part of the thigh near the crotch. He would dig his thumb and forefinger into the flesh then twist it all the way sometimes up to a 180 degree arc. Some boys pretended it did not hurt, but it did leave a bruise in there and the psychological aftermath would be something to tell the shrink later on in life if you feel like doing the same thing to your kids..  

Anyways, back to our story of the haunted tree..  

When the vegetables were ready to harvest, they offer an open invitation to the other kids ( or locals ) who would like to have fresh vegetables for nothing. So a few kids would volunteer to spend the night in the garden just to discourage the marauders from plundering the garden. The student must have some good products to show the teacher other wise....I never joined this camping stint although I have my own plot there..It is not compulsary anyway.Besides camping in front of a burial ground is not my idea of a restful night.  

The kids who spent some nights guarding the garden were the ones who told us what they saw in the PAKAK tree during certain nights.They claim they saw a big guy ( about 10 ft. tall ), hairy, dark skinned sitting on one of the branches. He would be smoking a tobacco..Just like that. Some say he had no clothes. He is hairy anyway and it is dark. And who would be crazy enough to approach the tree when the creature is there swinging his legs and enjoying his smoke? His local name is PUGOT. Which is also the nickname of our classmates who have dark skins, exceptionally dark skins. And you know how cruel Gr. 5 kids were in teasing each other. Anyway, this what our classmates told us. There  was really a PUGOT in the PAKAK tree in front of the CAMPOSANTO.  

The tree is not there anymore. When I was a Balikbayan one time and cell phones were not still invented, a telephone outpost was established in the area for Asinganians who had to make a phone call. The area beautified with shrubs and grass. The PAKAK is no longer around.  

A good family friend of ours from San Vicente also told me the same thing. She is an Elementary school teacher and she's quite pretty. Pretty enough to attract several male suitors including one pugot.

She said that several times at night, close to midnight,  a PUGOT  would come to visit her. I don't know if it is the same guy who hung around the PAKAK  tree although that would be quite a long way to travel..But hey, PUGOTS  have long limbs and they say they could travel as fast as horses.   But this lady from San Vicente who is also now in Ontario told me about the nocturnal visits. First she would notice a terrible smell. Then there would be a clanging of the kitchen utensils  like CALDEROS  like someone is opening and closing them, looking for something to eat. She would go right in there to the kitchen and when she switched on the light, there was nothing there. One time, she swore, she saw a pair of hands on the window ledge. The hands were hairy with long nails. Believe it or not, she said the creature really wanted to check on her as often as he can. Well, I said the least he can do if he would visit a lady should be to take a bath.  

 The BANGAR tree has been there as far as I remember. It grew within the perimeter of the cemetery near the small road leading to the gate of the Catholic section. The top could hardly be seen from the ground ( at least that is how I remembered it ). My classmates, especially those from Macalong said if one ate the fruit of the tree, it  would give him/her a three-day belly ache.  

My mom was the one who told me the following story, and it was also related to her by the late Mrs. Divina ( the mother of Atty Ambrosio Divina Jr. ). Atty Divina and my brother were good friends when they were still kids in Asingan. One of their hobbies was hunting with a BB Gun and one day they happened  to visit the Bangar tree. Mrs. Divina ( NanaAkiang ) did not know yet that they went under the dreaded tree but she dreamed that a spirit talked with her. The spirit said that he was in the form of a white bird and all of a sudden he/she was chased by two boys with a gun. They were shooting at him/her. The white bird flew to the tree and then it just hid itself in safety.  

The next morning Mrs. Divina asked her son if they went to the tree shooting at a white bird.."Yes," said  Manong Jun ( his nickname )."How did you know?"

"That bird is not really a bird," said his Mom. "It was a spirit  and you almost harmed it!" When Manong Jun told her that he was with my brother, Nana Akiang went to my Mom and told her about the dream..The spirit said " if something happened to me, I do not know what could have happened to your boy and his companion.."  

Of course my mom was also worried and when asked, my brother did not lie about it. But she made him promise never to go about again shooting anything near that BANGAR tree..---#

MY JOURNEY AS A CHRISTIAN AMBASSADOR

 By Ambassador Rodolfo I. Dumapias

(Printed in the book SCATTERED: The Filipino Global Presence

Edited by Luis Pantoja, Jr., Sadiri Joy Tira, and Enoch Wan

Life Change Publishing, Inc., September 2004.)

Jesus took the bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples. Then He said, "This is my body, which is given for you. Eat this in remembrance of me." In the last supper, the moment that we now celebrate during our present-day communion, Christ enacted the same process by which He fed the five thousand with only five loaves of bread and two fish, and several baskets of left over were later collected. Jesus also fed four thousand with only seven loaves of bread and a few small fish, also with left over. It was for a purpose that Jesus took, blessed, broke and gave out the bread, and His purpose was accomplished, though it seemed at first impossible.

The way my life was transformed followed the same process. Like many others whose spirits have been reborn, I first came to recognize and accept my desperate need for God. When I accepted Jesus as my personal savior and Lord, He took hold of me as I experienced an increasing desire to follow Him and to know and obey His will. When I invited the Holy Spirit to come into my life, He blessed me as He forgave me of my sins and through the Holy Spirit gave me the capacity to develop closer relationship with Him and to see the Kingdom of God. He broke me as my worldly desires, ambitions, plans and values died, and my material capabilities were crushed, when He allowed trials and crisis to befall me. And as my old self faded away and my spirit reborn, He gave me to the Church and the people for the unfolding of His plan and purpose in my life.

But what strikes me was the revelation that as Jesus set me in my journey as a Christian diplomat, I was confronted with one crisis after another in increasing difficulty. Through hindsight, however, I can now see that every crisis was a process that transformed my spirit, soul, and character and lifted me into the next level of faith as He unfolded His purpose for my life. As He led me to the next phase of my journey, He never abandoned me. In fact, He opened new doors for me and through signs and wonders He showed me His love and protection. In my years serving in the Philippine diplomatic service, I have witnessed the power and faithfulness of God.

And I hereby attest to the reality and truth of His promise.

My Spiritual Rebirth:

I was young, intelligent, and hard working and I thought that I had what it takes to assure a bright and secured future. Having passed the tough foreign service officer examination and having college education at UCLA and a master’s degree from USC in Los Angeles, California I thought I had the right to be proud of my personal abilities. Although my wife Eva and I were not irreligious, we were simply contented with just sitting in a Catholic mass or Methodist service, whichever fitted our schedule. We thought that the rosary, Santo Nino of various sizes and color, Sunday attendance, and being in good terms with others were enough to make us good Christians. Even after we spent years in various assignments in Peking, Kuala Lumpur, Hamburg, and Bucharest, and have met statesmen, dictators, Presidents, Princes and Kings, and brushed elbows with all kinds of people, we continued to think that our destiny was exclusively in our own hands and that we turn to God only when we need Him to get something more we want.

How wrong we were in all of those thoughts.

It was shortly after I assumed my posting as Minister Counselor and Consul General in Seoul, South Korea that my views began a dramatic change. My career, the source of my pride and hope back then, was threatened by a high-ranking and powerful man in the Department of Foreign Affairs, Manila. He began to transfer me from Seoul after only ten months of my arrival, a move that would discredit and humiliate me as acting Head of Mission (Charge d’Affaires,a.i.) and eventually impede my professional growth. He was a Goliath and to him I was just a small matchstick that he could easily break. All my appeals were addressed to the Secretary of Foreign Affairs but werescreened by the powerful man, and my efforts to get the help of politicians were not answered. Having no one to help me, in desperation I turned to God.

In the summer of 1991, my wife Eva and I accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as our personal savior. Prior to the aforesaid crisis, my sister Rebecca used to give my wife and me Bible and tracts every time we visited our folks in the U.S., but we quickly turned the pages and never really read them. But this time our prayers came from the heart and were intense, and I could now easily understand the Bible as my interest on the scriptures grew.

The Lord then led us to meet in Seoul the only daughter and the son-in-law (Ben and Tina Maynigo) of Foreign Secretary Raul Manglapus. Consequently, my letters reached the Secretary. Shortly thereafter, the threat was removed as the motion set by the aforesaid powerful man was stopped and rendered null and void by the Secretary.

This experience awakened us to the reality that God is a living force. He can be reached by us even if we are not priests or pastors. He can listen directly to our pleas without us seeking the intercession of dead saints. And in His own way and power He prevails over men and overrides their craftiness as He administers justice. The essence of our relationship with God also suddenly dawned on us: it is not the outward, physical rituals and incantations that we do and say, nor the sacrifices we offer, nor the symbolic materials we buy and place in the altar, but it is the obedience in our heart that He looks at. It was in a moment of anguish and desperation during that time that Eva as she was in tears sensed for the first time the voice of the Holy Spirit: "I know how you feel. If only I could embrace you, but let me do it in my own way, in my own time." We believe that our meeting with the Maynigos was not an accident. And several years later the powerful man became very nice to me and even asked that we include in our prayers the recovery of his wife who suffered a mild stroke – and we did pray for her.

Serving God and Man:

Amazed at the power of God that we have just witnessed, I was driven to tell others and gave my first testimony before the congregation at the Filipino Christian Fellowship at Haebangchon, a humble district in Seoul. I told myself that it was going to be the first and the last time I would speak before a church audience. What I did not know was that my presentation before a group of about fifteen people including my wife, my daughter Myra who was visiting from college, and our maid in a basement of a 2-storey house would be the first step in my journey to serve God and man.

My wife and I and our maid Lita Mina joined FCF Pastor Tony San Buenaventura in visiting the Filipino workers in their living quarters where we also conducted Bible studies. To attract more workers to our visits, we announced in advance that the consul general was to come with the pastor to answer questions on the situation of undocumented workers. The various outreaches we conducted led us even to remotest corners of the city as well as to the isolated job sites and mud huts in the countryside.

Eva and I did not realize it but our attitude, taste, temper, and outlook in life began to change as we became more involved in bringing the Gospel to the Filipino workers. Our Mercedes Benz suddenly broke down and I could not afford the repair cost, so for several months through winter we moved about for the first time without the convenience of a private car. At one time, we walked to the subway station with the pastor and elders carrying a guitar, portable keyboard, and a bag of gospel songs, clung to the strap onboard a crowded train, traveled for about an hour, then ran after a provincial bus and rode for another hour, then disembarked only to walk about two kilometers from the highway. It was already dark, and as we struggled on a dirt road to reach an isolated factory few miles from the border with North Korea, and walked passed the piles of snow and against the icy wind with only a dim light of the factory to guide us, I began to see a new person in my wife and myself. Not only that we endured but we also enjoyed the long trek and the sleepless night as we stayed awake in the workers quarters to wait for the bus to operate again in the morning. Even the pit-toilet and icy cold water did not bother us. People asked us why, as a ranking embassy official, we attend worship service where workers, musicians, and housemaids are cramped in a small basement apartment turned into a mission house. The answer was simple: no longer did we look at only ourselves but to and at Christ.

The church outreach led me, as the Consul GeneralinSouth Korea, to see first hand the condition of the Filipino workers, documented and undocumented. I heard their life stories and experienced their lifestyle because we spent time with them in their places of work and in their living quarters. I understood and felt their anguish when they came to the embassy already disillusioned, mentally broken down, and raped. Some came with one eye blinded, fingers severed, and a foot amputated resulting from accidents at work.

Thus, the embassy’s assistance-to-nationals function and consular services were carried out with added Christian compassion and direct personal knowledge of the plight of the Filipino overseas workers. Passport and documentation services were made quicker, and we wrote letters to immigration on behalf of anyone who needed reduction of or exemption from penalty. The embassy basement was opened to accommodate the increasing number of stranded and victimized workers. We arranged with Filipino Catholic and evangelical churches, hotels, Filipino community and the American base for the supply of food, medicine, blankets and cots. Priests, nuns and pastors such as Fr. Ray Sabio from Inchon, Sis. Maryann Terenal from Chayangdong, Fr. Eugene Docoy, and Pastor Tony of FCF came to give material support and share the gospel. Together with Catholic and evangelical churches, the host Ministry of Labor, the Lotte Welfare Foundation, and an NGO, the embassy assisted the victims of work accident get their due compensation such as Bro. Guiller who lost four fingers and Bro. Abe who lost a foot.

The hunger for spiritual comfort among the Filipino workers became more evident in each problem that was brought to the embassy, and we discovered that sharing the Word of God made a difference to them in their moment of desperation. I recall one husband who was bent on going home to kill his wife and then himself because of her extramarital affair, but after I shared with him God’s word and prayed with him, he cried and vowed to forgive her. From that time on, I always shared the Word, prayed and gave a Bible to any worker who came with a problem, even when Ambassador F. Benedicto and I visited the hundreds of OFWs in prison who were rounded up at the end of an amnesty period.

Masuk:

Masuk is about two to three hours from Seoul by bus, and about one-hour drive by car. There were several furniture factories straddled on a cluster of hills in a mountain range, but their presence is hidden from the highway and they can be reached only through a narrow winding road. It was a perfect place for anyone to work and hide, and many Filipinos who were there indeed had reasons to hide: from immigration, or spouses, or creditors, or gossips, or even the police because some have been accused of murder while others were reportedly involved in drugs.

While FCF and other Filipino evangelical groups had opened Bible studies in various places, no one had opened a study in Masuk perhaps because of distance and other obvious reasons. But my wife and I decided to open a Bible study in Masuk in August 1994 in the midst of about 300 Filipino workers there. At first there was resistance and only four attended as other workers questioned the motives of a military general – a consul general, you see? We held the session every Saturday night inside the furniture factory where Rosie Abalos and Gina Loyola worked. My wife Eva led the singing of gospel songs backed up by Lita, and Cerich Ponteres played the keyboard while I shared the gospel. After a few weeks, the number of attendees increased, up to eighty men and women sometimes, as workers walked few kilometers to join us despite the bitterly cold Korean winter. We would usually finish our fellowship at dawn and would drive back to Seoul at four in the morning.

Many of the Filipino workers have never read the Bible before, much less owned one, and the Bible study in Masuk changed their life. The story of Manong Ben, Sis. Rosie, Sis. Gina, Bro. Rommel, Bro. Ramir, Bro. Philip, Sis. Precy, Bro Tony, Bro. Rodel, Sis. Josie, Bro. Bert, Bro. Vic, Bro. James, Sis. Daniela, Sis. Mary, Bro. Daniel, Bro. Lito, Sis. Ofie and many others are real life tales of painful childhood, broken dreams, and lost hope that were turned to a new dawn. Bro. Mac, for example, whose father died when he was very young and never finished beyond third grade, used to harbor deep hatred to his alcoholic mother for constantly beating him and his younger sister and for forcing his hand to a pot of boiling water. At first, he used to escape through a window to avoid us and to be with his friends in drinking sessions. But after he joined and accepted the Lord, his heart changed and he gave up drinking, forgave his mother and reconciled with her when he returned to the Philippines.

Six months later, a Korean prayer mountain ministry learned about our Bible study and offered their facilities for us to start a regular Sunday worship service, free of charge. On 26 February 1995, the Filipino Christian Fellowship at Masuk was inaugurated at the chapel of the Sudong Prayer Mountain, which was headed by Rev. Pastor Lee Tae Hee and managed by Pastor Chun Young-Bum. Before the last snowfall of winter melted, about one thousand Filipino workers from five churches came by the busloads on that day. Our special guests were Senator Blas Ople and Ambassador Francisco Benedicto. Thus, the Bible study grew and became a church, and I became its pastor.

A month later, the congregation in Masuk changed its name to Filipino Evangelical Christian Fellowship as it decided to be independent from the FCF in Seoul. Before my posting in Seoul ended in July 1996, I requested the help of Pastor Jaren Lapasaran of Jesus Our Hope in Cubao, Quezon City and he agreed to send Pastor Paul Pambid to take charge of the church. A year later, Pastor Paul was replaced by Pastor Charlie Pablo from the Jesus Our Life Ministry of Bishop Fred Magbanua.

EMFK:

By 1994, the number of Filipino workers in South Korea had grown to more than 30,000. The thirst for the Word of God became more evident as workers even called the pastors to conduct Bible study for them at their place. Being the head of the Masuk Bible study and an embassy official, I discussed the need for more aggressive and coordinated outreach with the evangelical pastors who, as it turned out, had the same idea. After a series of meetings, the group decided to set up the Evangelical Ministers Fellowship in Korea. I was elected as chairman and Pastor Tereso Casino of Touch International Christian Church as vice-chairman, and EMFK was inaugurated in October of that year. The other founding members who headed the committees were: Pastor Sammy Natividad of Soebuk Foreigners Church, Pastor Enrique Supsup of Philippine Body of Christ, Pastor Rey Castro of the FCF, Sis. Serlina Rufin of Freedom in Christ Church, Pastor Paula Koh of the Grace Full Gospel Church and joining us later was Pastor Jesse Arce. We received the support of associate Korean churches that had Filipino attendees, among them was the Yoido Full Gospel Church under Rev. Pastor Paul/David Yonggi Cho, represented by Sis. Helen Byum.We were also blessed with the advise of Dr. Ho-Jin Jun of Asian Christian Theological School and Rev. Yung-Joon Kim of Somang Presbyterian Church, as well as the support of organizations such as The Lotte Welfare Foundation under Chairman Lho Shinyong and the Global Mission Fellowship. EMFK published its own periodical Vision in 1996.

The EMFK served as a catalyst in the evangelism process not only to Filipinos but to other foreigners also such as the Nigerians, Nepalese, and Chinese. EMFK became the central network among the evangelical pastors for mutual support, coordination of their activities, and mapping out their respective strategies in their outreach program. It unified the Filipino evangelical ministries and linked them with the Korean body of Christ. To the workers, it provided an avenue for the Filipinos by which they share information on immigration movements, job opportunities and mutual assistance for emergency or death.

EMFK was useful not only for the pursuit of the Great Commission but also to the work of the embassy. When the labor office was set up, Labor Attache Jun Sodusta utilized the EMFK churches as contact centers to reach the workers. Consular notices and embassy-issued IDs were also sent thru the EMFK and other centers. Ambassador Benedicto called on the EMFK, Filipino community and the Catholic churches to help implement his computer training program and other projects for the workers.

I was re-elected as chairman in October 1995. In the following year, God’s plan for leading me into the EMFK and ministry work was revealed.

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Dear Vic,

Praise God for His guidance and provision!

For the last four weeks, most of my personal and household effects, including my own computer, were packed and loaded to a 40-ft container for delivery from Mexico City, Mexico to San Antonio, Texas. Thus, I have not been able to respond to most of the messages from friends. I am now in SAT for the last two weeks as I brought Sis. Eva here. My daughter and us bought a house in preparation for my retirement next year. We are waiting for the delivery to arrive, hoping sometime later this week.

Please write or visit us at:

7407 Legend Point Drive

San Antonio, Texas 78244

Until my retirement next year 2006, I will be shuttling back and forth between Mexico and SAT. Please continue to send your messages to the same e-mail as before. God bless you and the family.

In Christ Jesus,

Bro.(Amb) Rudy and Sis. Eva Dumapias

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May God bless you both in your work in spreading the Word!!

Vic