Last month, I have a memorable (longest) road trip of my life. We were invited to give an input about agrofuels at Brgy. Hagpa, Impasug-ong Bukidnon. Since the concerned program is not available (Ate Anna's preggy and advised against long travels), I have to give my best shot.

I'm so thankful Louie, a college friend and now a staff of Task Force Mapalad was assigned in Bukidnon. He accompanied me and became the porter for the day. It was a relief not to bring those heavy reading materials to be distributed to the community.

So how far is the area? To give you an idea, here is my iterinary.

From Davao to Malaybalay City, it's a 4-hour bus ride. Then from Malaybalay City, I have to take the bus to Impasug-ong for about 40 minutes. Then, we have another hour and a half Skylab (motorcycle) ride to Brgy. Lamingan were we stayed overnight. The next day, we have to hike for around 40minutes to the Barangay Hall of Hagpa.

To better understand the situation and to contextualize it, I had initial interviews with the elders and the staff of Father Vincent Cullen Tulugan Learning and Development Centre (FVCTLDC), the organization that aided them in their CADT claim. Here's what I've gathered:

Higa-onons Ancestral Domain

The approved Higa-onon ancestral domain has a total area of 14,000 hectares. It comprise the municipalities of Impasug-ong and Malitbog at Bukidnon. Inhabitants are composed of communities from the sitios of Mintapod, Agtulawon, Kiudto, Kaanibongan, Butongon, Ulawon and some sitios in Barangay Hagpa.

The Agtulawon-Mintapod Higaonon Cumadon (AGHIMICU) is the peoples organization representing the claim of the Higa-onons in Impasug-ong. It is headed by 13 datus. On May 1995, they first applied for Certificate of Ancestral Domain Claim (CADC) at Department of Environment and Natural Resources (DENR). The CADC was awarded to them on February 1998.

However, the identified boundaries in the CADC was far from the actual extent of their domain. When RA 8371 or IPRA was enacted, AGHIMICU applied for conversion of CADC to Certificate of Ancestral Domain Title (CADT) on 2000 and was approved and awarded last May 15, 2008 with CADT Number R10-IMP-1206-054.

About 95% of the inhabitants in Brgy. Hagpa are Higaonons. They were able to acquire CADT with the aid of Non-Timber Forest Products (NTFP), FVCTLDC and Philippine Association for Intercultural Development, Inc (PAFID). The Dumagats (inmigrants) are the ones who have not yet acquired any private titles. Thsi had caused some concern to teh settlers that having the CADT will hinder them from acquiring private ttiles for their farmlands. Last Tuesday, April 13, the DUMACO (Dumagats' organization) and AGHIMICU signed a Memorandum of Agreement entitling the Dumagats to apply for private titles on their respective privately-owned residential and farm lots.

ABERDI's oil palm ventures


I was told that the ABERDI (A Brown Energy and Resources Development Inc.) is planning to expand in their area. The municipality of Impasug-ong in the province of Bukidnon is known as the “oil palm capital”. The company currently has a 10 tonner modular Palm Oil Mill at the poblacion. The company also owns 70 hectares oil palm plantation (40 hectares in Maluko, Bukidnon; 27 hectares in Dalirig and 3 hectares in Lunocan, Manolo Fortich). They also have a joint-venture agreement with the local People’s Organization KASAMA- KA. The said PO has acquired a Community- based Forest Management Agreement (CBFMA) with DENR and instead planting the usual falcatta or gemelina trees, they planted their area with oil palm.

ABERDI ventures also into into real estates, agricultural crops and processing. They have their subsidiaries that are responsible for oil palm plantations undertakings -Nakeen Corp. and Andesite Corp and Xavier Estates, wellknown for real estates in Cagayan de Oro City.

ABERDI is now planning to expand in the neighboring barangays of its current plantation in Brgy. Kalabugao, Impasug-ong. Brgy. Hagpa is the next and last frontier of the Pantaron range where the company is vying for expansion. At present, one of the Datu of the AGMIHICU, Datu Datu Mandedlayen Nanolan (Datu Aguilo) approves of the proposed expansion on his 200 hectares area at Sitio Kiudto, Brgy.Hagpa.

The said Datu based on interviews is no longer staying at Brgy. Hagpa and is not engaged in agriculture. The respondents shared that the said Datu is seeking for a seat in the Municipal Council and he needs money for his campaign. The other members of the Council of Elders and the Dumagats (inmigrants) are against the expansion since the proposed expansion site is their protected forest and other parts are agricultural lands.Staff of FVCTLDC shared that the area is also viable for cassava and other agricultural crops.


Right now, the other member of the AGMIHICU is negotiating and to arrive in a concensus regarding this matter. I've heard a local youth leader was also tapped by ABERDI to negotiate per households for the leasing their land. And the amount for teh rent of their land? P5,000 for 25 years! Just a simple equation. P5,000 divided by 25 years divided by 12 months per year. They will only earn P16.67 per month for the next 25 years?!


Meanwhile HAMOG, the youth cultural group of the community wishes their elders to think of their future. They the future Joey Ayala on the rise. Listen to their voices:




They are singing a song on caring of their remaining forests in Binukid (local dialect).



Partaking the chicken offering during the ritual.

I just woke up when Keno, my best friend's younger brother asked me if I have heard of Tita Rotchelle. I said no. I just heard that she was in the hospital. Then Keno replied. “Ate patay na siya.” I was shocked. Still in shock.

How can death take such a fine young woman, still in her prime?
Death is feared, celebrated yet we have no choice but to embrace it. Death is like a thief in the night. It surprises you.

Rotchelle Padua. Ching. Tita Rotch for me (Mommy to some) will always be remembered as the timid, fair-skinned girl. The class Snow White. I always joke about her very smooth hands. Mala kandila. I told her, perhaps she has no household chores. She laughed with her soft sweet voice, “nagtatrabaho din ako sa bahay ek. Ewan ko bakit malambot tong kamay ko.”

She speaks Tagalog. Tin-tin de Pedro (Baby Chin) tells her to speak in Ilonggo. But she said, how can she speak in Ilonggo if the people are conversing her in Tagalog? She can understand Ilonggo but opts to speak in Tagalog. I learned her parents were from Manila and they speak Tagalog at home. When she speaks, we told her that we have to lean and really really listen since she has a very soft voice.

I always tell her she is so timid, very silent alongside with Gera. I will always remember her seating in one row with Floribeth, Geraldinn (I call them the 'silent girls') and Momsie Cha. But Momsie Cha refuted. “Abi mo lang na nak hipuson na sila.Palaistorya na sila.” Such wrong first impression.

She doesn't talk loud like us, that is. She's a very animated talker. She used to share stories. Literature is her company. When you talk to her, you know you have a very attentive listener. She adores Rob Pattinson. That was the long chat we had on FB. I told her I am for Team Jacob. She insisted that the mysterious vampire is more lovable. That Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, the immortal one is just so sweet. Period.

When I told her I was meeting a male high school classmate for a cup of coffee and I asked her to guess, she replied. “Si Jeffrey?” And I laughed. High school memories of families and wives and our sheer silliness. And she laughed along.

She asked me one day. "Ek, have you read my article in PDI on March 19?” I thought it was a press release or something work related. It was a personal essay. It's her reflection of her 21 years of existence. It was published in Young Blood.

Youngblood
A good beginning

By Rotchelle M. Padua
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 02:52:00 03/19/2009

Filed Under: Youth

I am now spending the last few days of my 21st year here on earth. To be perfectly honest, I am quite apprehensive about the coming of my 22nd birthday. Although I remain optimistic, I can’t help but feel that, well, I am getting older. Time flies with incredible speed. Things happen too swiftly that we hardly find time to remember the memories that make up our lives. So let me take this time to revisit some moments of my life and ponder on my youth.

Was it just last year when my mom accompanied me to my first ever formal school?

Was it just last year when I became a regular visitor at the hospital because of my weak immune system?

Was it just last year when I gave out a heart-breaking cry for fear that the church door would be barred because we were late for my first communion?

Was it just last year when the thought of wearing something extremely feminine for a high school promenade seemed ludicrous to me?

Was it just last month when I accepted a role in our drama class many people who know me wouldn’t have thought I could tackle, without first taking workshops on how to raise an eyebrow, how to throw things in a convincingly outraged manner and how to yell loud enough for the audience to realize that I was on stage, speaking to them and not to myself?

Was it just last year when the thought of leaving home for college and staying at a boardinghouse overwhelmed me with nostalgia and doubts that almost shattered my goal of finishing college?

Was it just last year when I would silently command my voice not to quiver and tell myself to feign confidence whenever I spoke in class?

Was it just last month when I wished that a Shakespeare incarnate could have written plays and sonnets dedicated to me for the whole world to appreciate?

Was it just last year when I graduated from college, feeling unusually triumphant after overcoming so many obstacles to my earning the much-coveted diploma?

Was it just last week when I had my first job interview?

Was it just yesterday when I realized that I have started to earn a living and not just learning to earn a living?

These are the events that happened in my past, distant and recent. And I am beginning to feel a little bit old again.

When I was 10, I considered high school students to be as young as I was. I looked at college students as moderately old. I looked at teachers, doctors, employees, and the rest of the workforce as old, and the people older than them as much too old for me. Now that I belong to the “old” group, I bicker with my 10-year-old self and adjust, reclassify, or better yet try to abolish the unjust age classification.

I have more youthful principles with which to replace them: Anybody who wants to be young must be given the chance to feel (and probably look) young. Anybody whose child-like qualities have been left dormant should be encouraged to be a child again. Anybody who has forgotten how to find joy from simple things should be taken on an early morning walk along a path where nature looks wonderful. Anybody who has lost compassion towards others should have his or her eyes opened to the pleasant truth that genuine care for others (that’s why we’re here for anyway) can give unparalleled happiness, which may be the key to keeping age at bay. Youth can be an option. It can be a state of mind. It can be a pleasant condition of the soul brought about by happiness, contentment, peace and love.

Ending my 21st year is like finishing a book’s chapter I have always yearned to read. Some of the best moments of my life happened last year. Those were the moments when I felt so cared for, so protected and so blessed beyond description. Those were the moments when all the iniquities in the world were shrouded by the love of the people around me. Those were the moments when I felt that the world was a better place to live in (hackneyed as it may seem). Those were the moments I will be eternally grateful for.

Ending such a wonderful year fills me with nostalgia, but this is the only way I can begin another chapter—and hopefully more chapters—that God has designed for me. It is the only way I can collect more memories. It is the only way I can share more of myself with others. It is the only way to have a deeper understanding of life. It is the only way I can fulfill the grand purpose that God has assigned to me from the day I was born.

Tita Rotch is a very good friend. Despite her sickness, she went to Lake Sebu to celebrate Momsie Cha's birthday. We went to the falls and she was wearing a jacket. She was there just to talk to Mommy and observed our childlessness.


Tita Ching, despite her fever joined us to celebrate Momsie Cha's birthday in Lake Sebu



Tita Rotch contemplating.



Tita Ching with Floribeth


The other week I heard she's in the hospital. I texted her but she didn't reply. We don't know what's her illness. She wouldn't tell us. Maybe she doesn't want us to worry.

Tita Ching, you will always be remembered. Your sweet smile. Your low voice. Your milky white skin. And the vampire love stories. Thank you for the friendship.

You are with our Creator. You are completely healed now.

Maayong hapon sa tanan!

It is my great honor to come back here. The last time I stood on this stage was my graduation, delivering the valedictory speech. I remembered seating there. I was a student like you, doe-eyed and eager to receive our medal and cards- yellow or green that recognizes our efforts in our studies.

When I was asked by Ma’am Evelyn Janoya to give a speech, I was adamant. I thought it’s only more experienced people who are invited to be guest speakers and to be an inspiration. But I can’t say to Ma’am Janoya. She’s my former History quiz coach and almost a second mother to me.


With Ma'am Evelyn Janoya, my History quiz coach.


How is it to give inspiration? I guess I just want to share my life and hope it would be a source of inspiration.

I grew up under the care of my lola and aunts. I used to envy my classmates who had their mama and papa pinning their ribbons every recognition day. It was like, “ngaa wala man akong mama and papa?” But as I grew older, I realized I should not envy anyone. My parents got separated before I was born. And so? Would that be my reason to sulk and self-pity? I haven’t met my father not until I reached Grade 3. My family is not the normal form of family. But I learned to work out and enjoy what I have. I am luckier because I have three mothers, a grandmother and other second mothers like Ma'am Janoya who were there and proud of my achievements.

With my aunt, Nanay Nelly who took care of me when my mother went abroad.

I have a Aunt whom we dearly called Mommy Suzette who buy and sells malongs, chorizos and bulad just to help my sister’s and my education. She’s in Iloilo now. She's the one who told me to enjoy learning. Getting the medal or the ribbon is not the end all of everything. It is a recognition of your work but most of all enjoy the process of learning. Do not cheat just because you want to get high grades. Cheating in exams just show how dependent and unconfident person you are.

And always Read. Write about what you have read. Read and write always. Make it your habit because if you enter high school and college, it is a very important trait. You cannot just have to say always your thoughts. You have to write it down. You cannot write substantially if you have haven’t read that much right? Read not just the small pocketbooks. Pursue reading more relevant books.

Befriend your teacher but not to a point of being sipsip. Befriend and be sincere. Befriend older persons because they are more experienced, they can give you advice that would guide you. Befriend your school librarians. They can always tell you what’s the best book to help you in your research.

With Ma'am Ging Bayoneta, my lovely Grade 3 adviser (L) and Ma'am Norie Asaria, my ever sexy HE teacher and Nutrition quiz coach (R).

With my former boss at UP Mindanao CHSS Library. Now I call her Mader Pacz.('0')

And most of all, befriend your parents. You always watch telenovelas, puppy-eyed with the love stories. But do you know how your parents met? How they fell in love? Talk and listen to them. To the parents here, be your children’s best friends.

For the students here, appreciate your parent’s pain in sending you to school. If they are sending you to school, study and make them proud of you. Be grateful because you are very lucky. If they cannot afford to send you to school, find ways to do so. Do not make poverty the main reason to hinder you from pursuing higher education. Hindi ka maghambal nga, ay hindi ko magpadayon eskwela kay wala man igastos si Mama kag si Papa. Ay hindi ko mag-eskwela kay pobre man kami. You should learn to have a sense of independence. If I have that resigned attitude, I won’t be able to go to school and get a degree. I applied to every scholarship, knocked on other people’s doors to ask for help Pabaga ug nawong. I prayed a lot. During my high school at KNCHS, I worked part time. I worked as a tutor, and even do some laundry.

After my high school graduation, my Lola Luz died. She was the one supporting us in our studies. When she died, I felt everything died with her. I passed the entrance exam of UP Manila but the scholarship could not suffice for the everyday needs. I asked to be transferred to UP Mindanao in Davao City.

To prepare for my college entry, I worked during the summer at the Provincial Capitol. I packed my bags and went to Davao City despite I knew no one. Arisgada lang gid ko. I applied for a scholarship and part time job in the library and also tutorials in Kumon center. As the expenses became higher, I had to take private tutorials.

We only have classes from Tuesday to Friday. Saturday and Monday, whole day is allotted for tutorials at the Kumon center. Every Tuesday to Friday from 8:30-10 and 3-5pm I work as a student assistant at the library. By 6-8pm Monday to Thursday nights, it is for my private tutorials to a grade 3 student. By 8-10pm I do my assignments. I wake up at 3AM to study. For Sunday, worship time and my laundry time.

Hindi masyadong busy ano? You might think I have no social life because of that busyness. No. I just choose my friends who understand and accept my life and busy schedule. They take consideration when scheduling our night outs or other excursions. You have to make little sacrifices. A friend interviewed me once, amazed at how I manage my time. I told her that when you have limited time, you’ll learn how to manage and budget it. You’ll appreciate every moment. You will be more focused and determined. You will be disciplined to find time to study. That helped me to be included in the Dean’s list and Honor’s list.

I graduated last April 2008 with highest general weighted average from our college. As I march to get my diploma, I know my Lola is so proud wherever she is right now.

When I look back, I am glad for those hardships because it made me stronger and a better person. We have to take the challenges head on. It is always a matter of perspective. Always dream and be busy making it happen.


*Speech delivered to my elementary alma mater's graduation/recognition day last March 29, 2010.

March 16, 2010


It is a local holiday here in Davao City in celebration of the 73rd Araw ng Dabaw. But the sun is prickling hot; summer is here. What to do best in a holiday?
Recoil in bed with a good book.

Lately, I picked my habit again for pleasure reading and scrounging for books in second-hand bookshops. My favorite is the Booksale shop at Lachmi, ground floor.Just last Saturday, I got hold of Azar Nafisi's Reading Lolita in Tehran. It costs a hundred and thirty and it's beyond my budget but the two girls in hijab huddling over what seems to be a book on its cover captivates me. Kahit wala pang sweldo, sige pikit mata kong binili.



And this holiday, while the streets are filled with people, eager to watch the celebrities like Joem Bascon and the PBB ex-housemates, I decided to stay home and devour my latest find. The winds blowing hard is a good backdrop as the pages of the books seduces you to continue reading as if you are just in a beach for a vacation.

The story narrates the woman professor's struggle in teaching literature classics to her class especially to her women students. How can you teach Lolita of Vladimir Nabokov in the newly built Islamic Republic of Tehran? How can you teach F. Scot Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby without insinuating teaching of immorality since the protagonists have an illicit love affair? How can you differentiate reality from fiction when reality is even more fictional?

The novel is autobiographical, based on her experience in her homeland that ceased to give her comfort. Prof. Nafisi's discussion of books on her English Literature class is mired by controversy with the changing political landscape in Tehran. Ayatollah Khomeini wanted a cultural revolution and the University of Tehran where she teaches was a battleground. New orders were set. Women must wear the veil or else they would suffer the consequences, brutally. There is now the “moral police” who inspects women with their scarves (hijab), faces (no make-up), no earrings, no nail polish, even socks. These are “Western attitudes, decadent and immoral.” The chador (dress) must be only in dark colors (brown, black or dark blue). Women's body and even accessories can be a source of temptation. The hair and slight show of skin can sexually arouse men.

Prof. Nafisi, which was educated early on Switzerland and by her liberal father was confronted with these changes. As her family copes up, she could not help but worry. She was able to enjoy a past wherein women were allowed freedom, while her students never experienced that. While still a student, she joined the rallies before in toppling the regime, a “half-hearted activist,” she described herself. But was dumbfounded as how the so called revolutionaries, have become like their monsters, even more monstrous. As Nietzsche once warned: “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.”

This is a personal narrative for Prof. Azar Nafisi, for her struggle to teach and eventually resign in the university in order to teach selected five young women in the comforts of her home. Five young women, two are married, three are waiting to be betrothed.Through the great novels of literature, Prof. Nafisi and the young women- Nassrin, Yassi, Sanaz, Mitra, and Azin, they were able to create their “own little pockets of freedom” every Thursday morning. They discuss Nabokov, F. Fitzgerald, James Henry and Jane Austen.

The narrator, who also made a critical study of Vladimir Nabokov novels shared her critical analysis of his books. The novel's characters development, the nuances of using perspectives in creating and reshaping the characters' identity. I never heard of Lolita before. I have searched the net yesterday and the novel was even adapted to movies in 1963 and 1997. It is about Humbert, an old man who has a desire for a twelve-year old Dolores, which he renamed as Lolita (his special nickname for the child). Humbert is the main narrator of the novel. He narrates the child's provocation and his “undying love for the child”. Humbert's poetic words lure the readers to believe him more. She shared that so many critics of Lolita agrees with Humbert's; that Lolita is a provocateur. But when Lolita and her students has similarities, fiction took its way in reality. The novel have unsettled them since it hits a similar chord in real life, the novel took a different meaning. Her students, like Lolita were created through the eyes of men, the militia (which is like Humbert).

One reason perhaps why I decided to buy this novel because it reminds me of Sittie, a friend and classmate way back in college whom I always admire. She's a Muslim. I asked her before when she would wear hijab. I read somewhere before that in Saudi, when a girl starts to menstruate, she has to wear the hijab since it is an indication of one's coming to womanhood. Sittie or Sem to many told us that it is not that case. Wearing a veil is not mandatory but rather a personal choice. “I will wear it when I am ready.” And just recently, I saw her pics on Facebook wearing the hijab, and indeed, she is now ready. She made her choice.

But with no allusion to her decision and the liberal movement that allowed women more freedom on deciding in wearing the hijab, history in Tehran showed us the struggle on that “piece of clothing”. When the republic came under Ayatollah Khomeini's reign, hijab become mandatory even to young girls. The reactionaries that overthrew the previous administration has became even more oppressive to women especially in wearing the veil. Women has been created, redefined by the pious men in the hierarchy; of veil becoming a political covering of women's body. The danger in trying to resurrect the past, the conservatives went to extremes. A battle waged on woman's body- of veiling and unveiling and eventually making it “invisible”; of a woman's reproductive and productive role in the society and men's entrapment to the institution that encourages the status quo. Sexuality is discouraged, unknown, shunned as it is immoral. There is also a contradiction of men who are considered liberal and progressive, yet remain looking at women as sexual objects (Nassrin beau's Ramin in this case).

This is what Prof. Nafisi and the five young women has to deal with. Then war between Iraq and Iran ensued. Mercenaries of death are everywhere. Writers, even those without political affiliations are murdered. They were confronted by two choices- to leave or stay behind. Is leaving tantamount to surrendering?

I was taken into the world of these young women; of their misery, their search for love and dignity. I have become privy of their thoughts, of their personalities. They always ask, have the regime totally lack compassion and empathy? Without these , we are not human. The anguish, desperateness of every character unsettles its readers. But as women, what can they do? Can they hold on to Jane Austen's heroines? Or become Nabokov's Lolita who would cling to its captor because “they have no where else to go?”

They eventually decided to take refuge to other countries and started their lives. They were able to achieve their freedom. The superfluous narration, spontaneity of this novel makes you realize that empathy and compassion are central in unsettling the readers to identify with the characters.

As Nafisi wrote, “A great novel is not an allegory. It is a sensual experience of another world. If you don't enter that world; hold your breath with the characters and become involved in their destiny, you won't be able to empathize and empathy is at the heart of the novel.” This is how to read a novel; we should inhale the experience. This novel is disturbing because it is real. You experience with these women.

At the end of the book, Prof. Nafisi also added the list of classics she discussed or mentioned in the book. Questions that would guide its readers are also added to better understand the intricacies of fiction for critical analysis.

Oh, words like Upsilamba, poshlust had me restarted reading The Great Gatsby (thanks Chi for this gift!) and Sense and Sensibility. For my next book hunting, Lolita is on the top of my list.

Feb. 23, 2010

It's 11:35 PM. I just woke up. Woke up from a dream. I dreamt of receiving a call, telling me of Daddy Cap, my grandfather's death. I wanted it to be just a dream. But it is real.

I recalled being in a state of euphoria earlier the day. It was a morning of victory for the approval of Organic Agriculture Ordinance we lobbied in the City Council. After, it was another day of office work- finishing the research draft while listening to music on earphones. My phone rang but I didn't hear it. Then, I received a text. “Kek patay na si Papadar.” I blinked. I wished those words were not true.

Death. It's the suddenness. The gripping truth of goodbye. Of life's definitiveness.

Then tears keep falling.

Daddy Cap, the patriarch of Capili clan. THE source of our “matanglawin” genes. The eyes with smaller than the average person's pupil (In my case, smaller pupil and cornea)

I remembered Nana Cion (Daddy Cap's elder sister) telling me how he got that distinct 'characteristic'. When their mother was heavy with him, their mother saw a black crow one afternoon and stared at it intently. Just stared at that crow for so long. And lo and behold, five to six generations later, Capili family will have that 'cross-eyed' gene. Our ophthalmologist, amazed by this genetic disorder, told us that it is stronger particularly in male members of the clan. Who needs the expensive DNA test to prove you're a part of the family; that you're the missing son or daughter, if you possess this number one Capili indicator?

Despite Daddy's poor eyesight, he reads the Daily Bread. He keeps his cellphone very close to his eyes while texting. Most of the time, he texts without punctuations. He reads The Philippine Star daily; reads the headlines, the opinion section and analyzes the cartoon editorial for the last two digit clue. I asked him how he would determine the 'clues'. He would just shrug. He is a number games analyst. I call him the last-two magnate. He always win. The last time he won, he bought his winnings for lechon and ube and durian ice cream for the family gathering.

He has a good memory.He doesn't need that Prime Memory drink. When I lost my ATM card, I forgot my account number. But he didn't. He is our mini telephone directory. What's Uncle Bong's landline number? Just ask him.

He likes watching sports on TV. We used to watch boxing, billiards and basketball. We made our bets. We are both Purefoods fan. But if it's Alaska vs. San Miguel, I would bet on Alaska. He would bet on San Miguel. If he wins, I have to scratch his back and massage his feet. When Pacquiao defeated Erik Morales on the third round of their third showdown, he said it was a sold-out fight. He argues about the "politics behind the boxing arena."

He's a good sales man. Started at the beverage company, then went to educational and pension plans until he retires. He sells what he strongly believes in. I know he was devastated when CAP Plans and the rest of educational and pension plans industry collapsed. After all, some of their clients bought the plans because of him. Because his clients trust him. He lose some friends after that. Some even blamed him. But you don't have a hold of what's coming. The bubble market that suddenly bursts. He was the best source for my crisis communication case study on educational plans. He taught me about stocks exposure and the importance of trust and credibility in selling.

The salesman in him remained. He continues to sell Fern C.He even uses his salesmanship on me. He recruited me to join Fern C network. He tells me to take my Vitamin C daily. “Mabuti yang may Fern C, hindi ka madaling tablan ng sakit. Di ka madaling ubuhin. Kung bumabyahe, uminom ka para masarap ang tulog mo.” Still a salesman even on his remaining days. His reminder of my daily dose of Vit. C is his way of telling me, to always keep safe. To take care of my body.

He is the one who told me why priests always eat papaya (insert a naughty grin here from him). He loves to have his midnight snack- fox candy, watermelon, pomelo, and peanuts. He wants soup. Anything that is masabaw. To which Mommy Au would remark, “ Ang hilig mong magsabaw. Para kang nagpapasusong nanay!” He loves lechon's crispy skin. He likes sinampalukang kambing. He loves to eat whatever Mommy Au prepares.

He is a funny man. His favorite prank? It's the loudest release of gas. While walking at the terrace, he would stop. Sandali. Then Pbbrffft! The louder, the better. Then he would burst into laughter.

After high school graduation he gave me Francisco Colayco's book on financial management. He said, “Always save 10% of your money. Save up. Invest wisely.Be your own bookkeeper.” “Always think positive, Think wealthy. You beget what you think, what you say. Be careful on what you think about and what the words you utter.”

He wanted to know who would be the (un)lucky guy who would snatch our (my sister and I) hearts. He jokes about my lovelife. He keeps on reminding me to find a man who is responsible, knows how to cook (so that I would not be deprived nutritionally. Cooks are good lovers, he said) and importantly, who loves me more than I do. He said, “Dapat makilala ko sino man yang maging boypren mo ha? Dapat makilatis.Hindi playboy.” Of course. It takes one to know one.

Last December reunion, after the picture taking, he was grinning ear to ear. I know he is happy seeing the family; his other apos from London and Manila. I was taking pictures with my cousins and younger brother from my camera phone when he nudged, “Oh bat tayo wala pang piktyur?” I teased him for becoming a camwhore. “Ganyan talaga.Dapat may remembrance ang kakisigan.”

There are so much about him I want to say. He is not only my grandfather. He stood as my father too. Trying to compensate, taking the role his junior failed to do. It's the course of second generation of family history. Mistakes repeated. Blaming will not get us anywhere. It's a part of living, of learning, receiving and giving love.

I heard so much about him. His lapses and his goodness. But who am I to judge him on his lapses? He might not be the perfect father but he is the best grandfather a granddaughter like me could ever have. I am lucky to be old enough to remember these memories of him; grateful for the time spent with him.

To borrow from Andrew Rivera, “Existence is a story. We spend so much time sifting through our memories; it serves only to show how much life has already dribbled through our fingers, how many stories have gone untold.”

So I am sharing this story. The snippets of life with a man who is my grandfather.


To Daddy CIRILO CAPILI,SR. Thank you. I love you.



Ikaw ang pinakakisig na congressman for me. This is his Chavit Singson stance. :)