“Residents wait for their family members being rescued at the end of a flooded street in the village of Tumana, Marikina town, in suburban Manila, on August 7, 2012, after torrential rains inundated most of the capital”– photo and caption: Ted Aljibe/AFP/Getty Images. (See this photo essay, from which the above image was taken, on how this week’s steady downpour nearly drowned Manila.)
It’s still raining as I write this, and supposedly two more typhoons will be howling into the country this month alone. Since my last post, schools, churches and even a friend’s art gallery were converted into evacuation centers for people displaced by the floods. But as I said on my Facebook writer page, every year the rain and floods come, and every year people endure–with the same attitude of dignity, resilience, hope, compassion, generosity, and (even in the worst of times) that difficult-to-explain but magnificent Filipino good humor. I really think my countrymen are some of the most beautiful people in the world.
Speaking of Filipino good humor, I’d like to present the winner in the ‘writing’ category of the ‘Childhood’ contest: it’s a true story of childhood frustration sent by a man whose third grade teacher made a lasting (and irritating) impression on him. It’s written in Tagalog, so if you want the English translation, click here.
Why did I choose this story as the winner? Because it gives such a clear, humorously direct picture of the kind of child the writer was. And you sympathize with the kid in the story, because he brings to mind teachers from our own past who we may have a bone or two to pick with…
I’ve paired the story with this lovely photo submitted by Christine Clemente, who says: ”I took this picture a few years ago in Dapitan Arcade. I was just looking for interesting things, and I saw this scene. It just reminded me of simpler times, and I’ve always had a vision of this photo every time I pass that place. I was still using a film camera back then.”
My Kotong Titser
ni Rude Du Brul
Noong grade three ako sa isang Catholic school sa Biñan, Laguna, ipinagbabawal sa amin ang magsalita ng Filipino. May fine na piso sa bawat salitang Filipino.
Isang beses, lunchtime noon, nang palabas na ako ng klase ay napatapat ako sa mesa ng titser ko doon sa ikalawang mesa sa bandang likuran ng classroom.
Tandang-tanda ko pa ang dialogue ng pamangking istudyate ng titser ko na naghahanda ng kanilang pananghalian. “Aay, Tita! Wala tayong softdrink. Pa’no ‘to?” sabi niya.
Bigla napatitig sa akin ang titser ko habang nag-iisip. Yung bang titig na para bang uutang siya.
At hindi ako nagkamali. “Hoy, Mister Brul, nag-Tagalog ka kanina,” sabi ng titser ko. Siya pa itong nagsasalita sa Filipino.
“No Ma’am.”
“Ano’ng hindi? Parang narinig kita, ah! Oh, di bale, bigyan mo na lang ako ng sampung piso para bayad ka na next time na mag-Filipino ka!”
Ang lupit noh!? Sampung piso? Ibig sabihin, libre na akong mag-Filipino ng sampung beses? Tindi! Parang meron akong advanced payment. Daig pa ang two months advanced at three months deposit sa paupahang apartment. Mahihiya sa kanya ang mga kasera ng mga dormitoryo sa Legarda at Gastambide sa Maynila.
Shocking, di ba? At ano naman ang magagawa ko? Bata pa ako ay wala sa vocabularyo ko’ng magsumbong.
At kanino naman ako magsusumbong? Sa principal? Mag-i-Ingles pa ako roon. Bayad na lang ng fine kahit walang nagawang kasalanan.
Ang tindi talaga! Sa beinte pesos kong baon sa araw-araw, fifty percent agad ang nalagas sa aking allowance nang kotongan ako ng mismong titser ko na dapat ay magturo ng kabutihang-asal. Nakaka-shock kaya ang karanasang ‘yon sa isang bata. Tubig na lamang ang aking ininom nung lunchtime.
Shocking ba talaga? Pero heto ang mas shocking. Ibabagsak daw niya ako at uulitin ko ang Grade Three. Pero birthday raw niya sa susunod na linggo at kailangan niya ng kalamay na special.
Ang kawawa kong mga magulang, napilitang magpagiling ng isang bilao ng special na kalamay. Ako pa ang nagdala ng bigas na lagkitan sa gilingan. Bilib talaga ako sa tatay at nanay ko. Laging naroroon para damayan ang kanilang anak.
Sa totoo lang, hindi rin naman ako pahuhuli sa klase dahil lahat ng readings ay tinatapos ko na habang bakasyon dahil mahilig talga akong magbasa. Sa math, talagang mahina ako pero nakakaintindi naman.
At dahil sa hayop na kalamay na ‘yon, nakapasa ako.
Buhay pa kaya siya? Kung anupaman, pinatawad ko na siya.
To see the winning photo for the ‘Childhood’ contest, see the post ‘Toys and Ants.’
