The Anatomy of a Filipino

The Anatomy of a Filipino By: Prof. Felix Bautista

All: I like to think that I am a Filipino, that I am as Good, a Filipino as Anyone.
Girls: My heart thrills, when, I Hear, the National anthem, being played.
Boys: And my Blood Rises, when, I see our flag, Fluttering in the breeze.
All: And Yet, I find myself asking, How Filipino Am I, Really?
Boys: My First Name is American.
Girls: My Last Name Is Chinese.
Boys: When I’ am with Girlfriends or more correctly, when, I’ am with my Friends, who happen to be girls
- I talk to them in English.
Girls: If they are thirsty, I buy them, a Bottle of American coke.
Boys: If they are hungry, I treat them, to an Italian Pizza pie.
All: And when, I have the money, I give them a real Chinese Lauriat.
Boy (solo): Considering all these, considering my taste, for many things foreign, what right do I have, to call myself, a Filipino?
Girls (solo): Should I not call myself, a culture orphan? The illegitimate child of many races?
All: Rightly or wrongly, whether we like it or not, we are the end products, of our history, fortunately or unfortunately, our history is a co-mingling, of polyglot influences.
Boys: Malayan and Chinese.
Girls: Spanish and British.
Boys: American and Japanese.
All: This is historic fact, we can not ignore, a cultural reality we can not escape, form to believe otherwise is to indulge in fantasy.
Boy (solo): I must confess, I’ am an extremely confused, and Bewildered young man. Wherever I’ am, whatever I may be doing, I’ am Bombarded, on all sides, by people who want, me to search for my national identity.
All: Tell me the Language I speak should be replaced, by Filipino; they urge me to do away with things foreign to act and think, and buy Filipino.
Girl (solo): Even in art, I’ am getting bothered and Bewildered.
All: The Writer should use Filipino, as his medium, the nationalists cry.
Boys: The Painter should use his genius, in portraying themes purely Filipino, they demand.
Girls: The Composer should exploit, endless Possibilities, of the haunting kundiman, they insist.
All: All these sound wonderful. But Rizal used Spanish, when he wrote, Noli and Fili.
Boys: Was he less of a nationalist, because of it? Must the artist, to be truly Filipino, paint with the juice of the duhat?
Girls: And must he draw picture of topless Muslim women or Igorot warriors in G-String?
All: And if the composer, desert, the kundiman, and he writes song faithful to the spirit of the Youths of today, does he become Unfilipino? We are what we are today, because of our History.
Boys: In our veins, pulses blood with traces of Chinese and Spanish and American, but It does not stop, being a Filipino, because of these.
Girls: Out culture, is tinges with foreign, influences, but it has become rich therely.
All: This mingling, in fact could speed us on the road, to national greatness, look at America, it is a great country, and yet it is the melting pot of Italian, and German, British, and French, or Irish and Swedish.
Boy (solo): Filipinism, after all, is in the heart.
All: If that heart beats faster, because the Philippines is making progress, if it Fills, with compassion because its
people are suffering, then it belongs to a true Filipino, and it throbs, with pride, in our past, if it pulses with awareness, of the present , if it beats with a faith in the future, then we could ask, for nothing, more all other things are Unimportant.
Boys: I have, an American First Name.
Girls: And I have, a Chinese Last Name.
All: And I’ am proud, very, very proud, - because Underneath these names beats A Filipino Heart…

Indarapatra and Sulayman

Indarapatra and Sulayman

this epic was all about the fight of King Indarapatra's brother Sulayman,to the monsters. And this is the except of the epic:
A long, long time ago, Mindanao was covered with water, and the sea cover all the lowlands so that nothing could be seen but the mountains jutting from it. There were many people living in the country and all the highlands were dotted with villages and settlements. For many years the people prospered, living in peace and contentment. Suddenly there appeared in the land four horrible monsters which, in short time has devoured every human being they could find.
Kurita, a terrible creature with many limbs, lived partly on the land and partly on sea, but its favorite haunt was the mountain where the rattan palm grew; and here it brought utter destruction on every living thing. The second monster, Tarabusaw, an ugly creature in the form of a man, lived on Mt. Matutum, and far and wide from that place he devoured the people, laying waste the land. The third, an enormous bird called Pah, was so large that, when on the wing, it covered the sun and brought darkness to the earth. Its egg was as large as a house. Mt. Bita was its haunt; and there the only people who escaped its voracity were those who hid in the mountain caves. The fourth monster was also a dreadful bird, having seven heads and the power to see in all directions at the same time. Mt. Gurayan was its home and like the others, it wrought havoc to its region.
So great was the death and destruction caused by these terrible creatures that at length, the news spread even to the most distant lands - and all nations grieved to hear the sad fate of Mindanao.
Now far across the sea, in the land of the golden sunset, was a city so great that to look at its many people would injure the eyes of men. When tidings of these great disasters reached this distant city, the heart of King Indarapatra was filled with compassion, and he called his brother, Sulayman, and begged hem to save the land of Mindanao from the monsters.
Sulayman listened to the story and as heard it, was moved with pity. "I will go", zeal and enthusiasm adding to his strength, "and the land shall be avenged," said he.
King Indarapatra, proud of his brother's courage, gave him a ring and a sword as he wished him success and safety. Then he placed a young sapling by his window and said to Sulayman "By this tree I shall know your fate from the hour you depart from here, for if you live, it will live; but if you die, it will die also."
So Sulayman departed for Mindanao, and he neither waded nor used a boat, but went through the air and landed on the mountain where the rattan grew. There he stood on the summit and gazed about on all sides. He looked on the land and the villages, but he could see no living thing. And he was very sorrowful and cried out: "Alas, how pitiful and dreadful is this devastation."
No sooner had Sulayman uttered those words than the whole mountain began to move and then shook. Suddenly out of the ground came the horrible creature Kurita. It sprng at the man and sank its claws at his flesh. But, Sulayman knowing at once that this was the scourge of the land, drew his sword and cut Kurita to pieces.
Encourage by his first success, Sulayman went on to Mt. Matutum, where conditions were even worse. As he stood on the heights viewing the great devastation, there was a noise in the forest and a movement in the trees. With a loud yell, Tarabusaw forth leaped. For the moment they looked at each other, neither showing any sign of fear. Then Tarabusaw used all his powers to try to devour Sulayman, who fought back. For a long time, the battle continued, until at last, the monster fell exhausted to the ground and Sulayman killed him with his sword.
The nest place visited by Sulayman was Mt. Bita. Here havoc was present everywhere, and though he passed by many homes, he saw that not a single soul was left. As he walked, sudden darkness fell over the land, startling him. As he looked toward the sky he beheaded a great bird that swooped upon him. Immediately he struck, and the bird fell dead at his feet; but the wing fell on Sulayman and he was crushed.
Now at this very time King Indarapatra was sitting at his window, and looking out he saw the little tree wither and dry up.
"Alas!" he cried, "my brother is dead" and he wept bitterly.
Then although he was very sad, he was filled with a desire for revenge. Putting on his sword and belt, he started for Mindanao, in search for his brother.
He, too, traveled through the air with great speed until he came to the mountain where the rattan grew. There he looked about, awed at the great destruction, and when she saw the bones of Kurita he knew that his brother had been there. He went on till he came to Matutum, and when he saw the bones of Tarabusaw, he knew that this, too, was the work of Sulayman.
Still searching for his brother, he arrived at Mt. Bita, where the dead bird lay on the ground, and when he lifted the severed wing he beheld the bones of Sulayman with his sword biy his side. His grief now so overwhelmed Indarapatra that he wept for some time. Upon looking up, he beheld a small jar of water by his side. This, he knew had been sent from the heaven, and he poured the water over the bones, and Sulayman, came to life again. They greeted each other and talked animatedly for great length of time. Sulayman declared that he had not been dead but asleep, and their hearts were full of joy.
After some time Sulayman returned his distant home, but Indarapatra continued his journey to Mt. Gurayan where killed the dreadful bird with the seven heads. After these monsters had all been killed, peace and safety had been restored to the land: Indarapatra began searching everywhere to see if some of the people who hid in the earth were still alive.
One day, in the course of his search, he caught sight of a beautiful woman at a distance. When he hastened toward her she disappeared through a hole in the ground where she stood. Disappointed and tried, he sat down on a rock to rest when, looking about, he saw near him a pot uncooked rice with a big fire on the ground in front of it. This revived him and he proceeded to cook the rice. As he did so, however, he heard someone laugh near by, and turning he beheld an old woman watching him. As he greeted her, she drew near and talked to him while he ate the rice.
Of all the people in the land, the woman told him, only few were left, and they hid in a cave in the ground from whence they never ventured to come out. As for herself and her old husband, she went on, they had hidden in a hollow tree, and this they had never dared to leave until Sulayman killed the voracious bird Pah.
At Indarapatra's request, the old woman led him to one such cave. There he met the headmen with his family and some people. They all gathered about the stranger, asking many questions, for this was the first time they had heard about the death of the monsters. When they found out what Indarapatra had done for them, the headman gave his daughter to him in marriage, and she proved to be beautiful girl whom Indarapatra had seen at the mouth of the cave.
Then the people all came out of their hiding places and returned to their homes where they lived in peace and happiness. And the sea withdrew from the land and gave the lowlands to the people.

Kris, Ang Sandata Ng Mga Lutao

Kris, Ang Sandata Ng Mga Lutao

“Historia de las Islas de Mindanao, Jolo y sus Adjacentes”
ni Francisco Combes, SJ

Si Socsocan ng Basilan ay isa sa pinaka-sikat sa mga pinuno ni Corralat. Nakaibigan niya ang mga Español na tinulungan niya bilang pinuno ng mga Lutao sa hukbong Español. Sinabing ang pangalan niya ay katumbas ng “ang sumasaksak sa kuta o pangkat ng mga kalaban”... Si capitan Gaspar de Morales ay nahirang na admiral ng hukbong dagat ng Español sa Jolo, matapos siyang sumikat sa digmaan sa La Sabanilla at sa Jolo, kung saan siya nasugatan nang malubha. Ginawa siyang commandante, tapos governador ng kuta sa Jolo. Sikat sa giting bilang sundalo, sira siya at sukdulang makasalanan bilang governador. Sa kanyang pangahas at libog, dinukot niya ang anak na babae ni Dato Salibansa. Naghimagsik ang mga tagapulo at ito ang simula ng 200 taon ng pagka-hiwalay ng Jolo mula sa ibang kapuluan ng Pilipinas ...     --Wenceslao E. Retana, 1897

Gabi Ng Isang Piyon

Gabi Ng Isang Piyon Ni Lamberto E. Antonio

Paano ka makakatulog?
Iniwan man ng mga palad mo ang pala,
Martilyo, tubo’t kawad at iba pang kasangkapan,
Alas-singko’y hindi naging hudyat upang
Umibis ang graba’t semento sa iyong hininga.
Sa karimlan mo nga lamang maaaring ihabilin
Ang kirot at silakbo ng iyong himaymay:
Mga lintos, galos, hiwa ng daliri braso’t utak
Kapag binabanig na ang kapirasong playwud,
Mga kusot o supot-semento sa ulilang
Sulok ng gusaling nakatirik.
Binabalisa ka ng paggawa —
(Hindi ka maidlip kahit sagad-buto ang pagod mo)
Dugo’t pawis pang lalangkap
Sa buhangin at sementong hinahalo na kalamnang
Itatapal mo sa bakal na mga tadyang:
Kalansay na nabubuong dambuhala mula
Sa pagdurugo mo bawat saglit; kapalit
Ang kitang di-maipantawid-gutom ng pamilya,
Pag-asam sa bagong kontrata at dalanging paos.
Paano ka matutulog kung sa bawat paghiga mo’y
Unti-unting nilalagom ng bubungang sakdal-tayog
Ang mga bituin? Maaari ka nga lamang
Mag-usisa sa dilim kung bakit di umiibis
Ang graba’t ‘semento sa iyong hininga...
Kung nabubuo sa guniguni mo maya’t maya
Na ikaw ay mistulang bahagi ng iskapold
Na kinabukasa’y babaklasin mo rin.

Isang Dipang Langit

.♦. Isang Dipang Langit ni Amando V. Hernandez .♦.

Akoy ipiniit ng linsil na langi
hangad palibhasang diwa koy pilitin,
katawang marupo, aniya’y pagsuko,
damdami’y supil na;t maihiin ay supil

Ikinulong ako sa kutang malupit;
bato bakal punlo, balasik ng bantay:
lubos na tiwalag sa buong daigdig
at inaring kahit buhay man ay patay

Sa munting dungawan, tanging abot-malas
ay sandipang langit na puno ng luha ,
maramot na birang ng pusong may sugat
watawat ng aking pagkapariwara.

Sintalim ng kidlat ang mata ng tanod,
sa pintong may susi’y walang makalapit
sigaw ng bilanggo sa katabing muog,
anaki’y atungal ng hayop sa yungib.

Ang maghapo’y tila isang tanikala
na kalakaladkad ng paanang madugo,
ang buong magdamag ay kulambong luksa
ng kabaong waring lungga ng bilanggo.

Kung minsa’y magdaan ang payak na yabag,
kawil ng kadena ang kumakalanding;
sa maputlang araw saglit ibibilad,
sanlibong aninong inilwa ng dilim.

Kung minsan, ang gabi’y biglang magulantang
sa hudyat--may takas!--at asod ng punlo;
kung minsa’y tumangis ang limang batingaw,
sa bitayang muog, may naghihingalo

At ito ang tanging daigdig ko ngayon--
bilangguang mandi’y libingan ng buhay;
sampu, dalawampu, at lahat ng taon
ng buong buhay ko’y dito mapipigtal.

Nguni’t yaring diwa’y walang takot-hirap
at batitis pa rin itong aking puso:
piita’y bahagi ng pakikilamas,
mapiit ay tanda ng hindi pagsuko.

Ang tao’t Bathala ay di natutulog
at di habang araw ang api ay api,
tanang paniniil ay may pagtutuos,
habang may Bastilya’y may bayang gaganti.

At bukas, diyan din, aking matatanaw
sa sandipang langit na wala nang luha,
sisikat ang gintong araw ng tagumpay . . .
layang sasalubong ako sa paglaya!

The World is an Apple

The World Is An Apple by Alberto S. Florentino

This is a story of how wrong decisions become greater burdens to a family.  Mario’s family happens to be in the lower bracket of society.  He cannot even provide for his family’s basic needs.  Albeit all this hardships, his wife Gloria, still manages to keep her good virtuous.  She insists that the way they are living is a much better than the one they will have if they do wrong acts.    But Gloria’s entire constant reminder to Mario did not prosper.  Mario decided to come back to his old life of crime when he lost his job when he tried to steal an apple for his daughter.  He keeps on insisting that his priority is to provide what his wife and daughter needs.  He left with Pablo, his old crime buddy, even if Gloria pleaded very hard for him not to go with the man. This is a sad representation of what is happening in the society today.  Due to lack of better opportunities to heighten one’s standard of living, some become entangled with the wrong crowd.  By doing so, these individuals do not help their family at all; instead, they end up worsening their family’s problem.  It is man’s basic instinct that drives him towards his survival.  But, no matter what, he should not forget that society expects him to conform to its norms.  One’s action is weighed right or wrong and thus should be kept towards the proper action.

assignment no 6

Valediction sa hill crest

Pagkacollect ng Railway Express sa aking things
(Deretso na iyon sa barko while I take the plane.)
Inakyat kong muli ang N-311, at dahil dead of winter,
Nakatopcoat at galoshes akong
Nagright-turn sa N wing ng mahabang dilim
(Tunnel yatang aabot hanggang Tundo.)
Kinapa ko ang switch sa hall.
Sa isang pitik, nagshrink ang imaginary tunnel,
Nagparang ataol.
Or catacomb.
Strangely absolute ang impression
Ng hilera ng mga pintong nagpuprusisyon:
Individual identification, parang mummy cases,
De-nameplate, de-numero, de-hometown address.
Antiseptic ang atmosphere, streamlined yet.
Kung hindi catacomb, at least
E filing cabinet.
Filing, hindi naman deaths, ha.
Remembrances, oo. Yung medyo malapot
Dahil alam mo na, I’m quitting the place
After two and a half years.
After two and a half years,
Di man nagkatiyempong mag-ugat, ika nga,
Siyempre’y nagging attached, parang morning glory’ng
Mahirap mapaknit sa alambreng trellis.
At pagkabukas ko sa kuwarto,
Hubo’t hubad na ang mattresses,
Wala nang kutson sa easy chair,
Mga drawer ng bureau’y nakanganga,
Sabay-sabay nag-ooration,
Nagkahiyaan, nabara.
Of course, tuloy ang radiator sa paggaralgal:
Nasa New York na si Bob and the two Allans,
Yung mga quarterbacks across the hall
Pihadong panay ang display sa Des Moines.
Don ang Cosntance aren’t coming back at all.
Gusto ko nang magpaalam–
to whom?
The drapes? The washbowl? Sa double-decker
Na pinaikot-ikot naming ni Kandaswamy
To create space, hopeless, talagang impossible.
Of course, tuloy ang radiator sa paglagutok.
(And the stone silence,
nakakaiyak kung sumagot.)
Bueno, let’s get it over with.
It’s a long walk to the depot.
Tama na ang sophistication-sophistication.
Sa steep incline, pababa sa highway
Where all things level, sabi nga,
There’s a flurry, ang gentle-gentle.
Pagwhoosh-whoosh ng paa ko,
The snow melts right under:
Nagtutubig parang asukal,
Humuhulas,
nagsesentimental.

assignment no 6

How the Angels Built Lake Lanao

Long ago there was no lake in Lanao.  On the place where it is now situated, there flourished a mighty sultanate called Mantapoli.  During the reign of Sultan Abdara Radawi, the greater grandfather of Radia Indarapatra (mythological hero of the Lanao Muslims), this realm expanded by military conquests and by dynastic marriages so that in time its fame spread far and wide.

The population of Mantapoli was numerous and fast increasing.  At that time the world was divided into two regions: Sebangan (East) and Sedpan (West).   The mighty sultanate of Mantapoli belonged to Sebangan.  Because this sultanate rapidly increased in power and population as well, the equilibrium between Sebangan and Sedpan was broken.

This dis-equilibrium soon came to the attention of Archangel Diabarail (Gabriel to the Christians).  Like a flash of sunlight, Diabarail flew to the Eighth heaven and told Allah, "My Lord, why have you permitted the unbalance of the earth?   Because of the power of Mantapoli, Sebangan is now larger than Sedpan."

"Why, Diabarail," replied the Sohara (Voice of Allah), "what is wrong with that?"

"My Lord, Mantapoli has a vast population countless as the particles of dust.  If we will allow this sultanate to remain in Sebangan, I fear that the world would turn upside down, since Sebangan is heavier than Sedpan."

"Your words show great wisdom, Diabarail," commented the Sohara.

"What must we do, my Lord, to avert the impending catastrophe?"

To this query, the Sohara replied, "Go right away to the Seven-Regions-Beneath-the-Earth and to the Seven-Regions-in-the-Sky and gather all the angels.  I will cause a barahana (solar eclipse) and in the darkness let the angels remove Mantapoli and transfer it to the center of the earth."

Upon receiving the mandate of Allah, Archangel Diabarail, traveling faster than lightning, rallied the millions of angels from the Seven-Regions-Beneath-the-Earth and the Seven-Regions-in-the-Sky.  With this formidable army, he presented himself to Allah, saying, "My Lord, we are ready to obey Your command."

The Sohara spoke, "Go to Sebangan, and lift the land of Mantapoli."

Diabarail, leading his army of angels, flew to the east.  In the twinkle of an eye, the sun vanished and a terrible darkness as black as the blackest velvet shrouded the universe.  The angels sped faster than arrows.  They swooped on Mantapoli, lifting it with great care and carried it (including its people, houses, crops and animals) through the air as if it were a carpet.  They brought it down at the center of the earth, in accordance with the command of Allah.  The very spot vacated by the sultanate of Mantapoli became a huge basin of deep, blue water-the present Lanao Lake.

The waters coming from the deep bowels of the earth rose higher and higher.  Archangel Diabarail, seeing the rising tides immediately returned to the Eighth Heaven and reported to Allah, "My Lord, the earth is now balanced.  But the place where we removed Mantapoli is becoming an ocean.  The waters are rising fast, and unless an outlet for them can be found, I fear that they might inundate Sebangan and drown all Your people."

In response, the Sohara said, "You are right, Diabarail.  Go out, then, and summon the Four Winds of the World: Angin Taupan, Angin Besar, Angin Darat, and Angin Sarsar.  Tell them to blow and make an outlet for the overflowing waters."

Obeying the Master's command, the faithful messenger summoned the Four Winds.  "By the Will of Allah," he told them, "blow your best, and make an outlet for the rising waters of the new lake."

The four winds of the world blew, and a turbulence swept the whole eastern half of the earth.  The surging waters rolled swiftly towards the shores of Tilok Bay to the southeastern direction.  But the towering ranges impeded their onrush.   The Four Winds blew, hurling the waves against the rocky slopes but in vain; no outlet could be cut through the mountain barrier.

Changing direction, this time eastward, the Four Winds blew harder driving the raging waters towards the shores of Sugud Bay (situated east of Dansalan, now Marawi City).  Once again, the attempt to create an outlet failed because the bay was too far from the sea.

For the third time, the Four Winds changed direction and blew their hardest.  The waves, plunging with ferocity, rolled towards Marawi.  Day and night, the Winds blew as the waters lashed against the shoreline of Marawi.  This time the attempt succeeded.  An outlet now called Agus River was made, and through the outlet, that water of Lake Lanao poured out to the sea, thereby saving Sebangan from a deluge.

It came to past that there was a high cliff at the outlet, and over the cliff the waters cascaded in majestic volume.  Thus, arose the beautiful falls which, aeons later, was named Maria Cristina, after a famous queen of Spain.