Ulan-init

Fiction by | April 28, 2019

(lugit gikan sa sugilanon)

“Hooooo!”

Gibira ni Nenet ang pisi nga nagtapot sa ilong sa kabaw, mihunong kini sa pagkadungog sa iyahang singgaak. Nagtungtong siya sa buko-buko sa mananap nga ganina pa naghalhal. Walay klase, mao nang nanghakot silag lubi kauban ang iyahang maguwang nga si Teban, disi-saes anyos ug manghod nga si Pawpaw nga dyes ang panuigon. Tig-isa silag tugsak sa iyahang mga igsoon, gama kini sa kawayan nga adunay hait sa punta aron madagit ang lubi nga ilang ipanulod sa ilahang kariton.

“Punu na!” tubag sa igsoong si Pawpaw paghuman og hakot sa lubi.

“Siiii!”

Gipitkan ni Nenet ang lubot sa kabaw, misutoy kini sa laing punoan. Nagpasiaw si Pawpaw tungod kay nagkumpayot kini sa likod sa kariton. Nag-una iyahang Manoy Teban sa agianan arun susihon ang dalan kon aduna pa bay mga lubi nga angay ikarga. Sa dihang nakita sa iyahang maguwang laki nga wala nay lubi nga nahibilin, mipauli na sila.

“Una na lang mo Noy kay mangita pa kog lawa-lawa diri. Ibaligya nako kang Justin.” asuy sa kinamanghuran.

“Tagaan na lang takag damang unya sa balay, gilaming nako to. Dako kaayo to.” segun sa ilahang manoy Teban nga gikuha ang pisi kang Nenet. Walay nahimo ang manghod ni Nenet nga si Pawpaw busa misakay na lang kini uban niya nga kadtong higayona mibalhin sa ibabaw sa kariton ug nag-ingkib og turok samtang gahigda.

Naabtan nila ilahang tatay nga gikaestorya sa anak ni Don Ramon nga ilahang amo, ang tag-iya sa yuta nga gina-ugmad sa iyahang anhing lolo Tito nga usa ka Waray. Nahisalaag kini sa Mindanao sukad pa niadtong 1980’s ug miabot dinhi sa probinsya sa Sarangani kon diin sila nagkaila ni anhing Don Ramon.

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To Pull A Hook

Nonfiction by | April 28, 2019

(excerpt from an essay)

AKO NA POD kuya bi,” my younger brother Sean said while trying to take the fishing rod from me.

Paghulat gud,” I told him, moving the rod out of his reach. “Nagahulat na ang talakitok sa akoa o.”

Ganina pa man ka.”

Lima na lang ka labay,” I promised him. I whipped the line out into the sea, away from the shore.

MY FANCY FOR fishing started with envy. I was hooked to it after seeing an episode of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer on television. The titular character and his rowdy gang of country boys had run away from their homes and were fishing in the Mississippi River to feed themselves, competing who had the biggest catch in the process. I watched with envy as they roasted the fish over open fire and devoured them when they were cooked.

I was seven years old back then at my grandparents’ farm somewhere deep in Polomolok, South Cotabato. There was nothing much to do except for the daily trips to the river that my grandfather and I had to take to tend the cows. People in Polomolok mostly farmed for a living. On special occasions, a cow, maybe a goat, and a couple of chickens would be butchered for a feast, but the daily diet consisted of vegetables, which was virtually everywhere, and fish—fish from the market and fish from the river. My grandparents were able to buy fish from the market, but I wanted to try eating fish that I myself had caught.

Fishing was originally developed to find food in the wild for survival. As time progressed, fishing evolved to include the activity as a pastime. Recreational fishing is a luxury for those who have pockets full of money with time on their hands to cast carbon-fiber retractable fishing rods with high-end reel and a line of nylon connected to a floater or a sinker with a plethora of colorful artificial baits, one for each type of fish. While this is so, the tackle, or the entire fishing equipment, used in Polomolok only consists of a good-length bagakay for a rod, a coil of thin, transparent nylon, and a single hook. Baits can be found wherever there is moist and healthy soil.

Tay, bakal na bala sang bunit,” I requested my grandfather one day.

Sa sunod ah,” he answered.

The dialogue continued for days.

Same plea, same answer—always sa sunod, sa sunod, sa sunod.

Continue reading To Pull A Hook

Duhiraw

Fiction by | April 21, 2019

(lugit gikan sa sugilanon)

Kinahanglan niyang mopasar bisag unsa pay mahitabo, bisag unsa pay dangatan ug kinahanglang mosunod ang tanan segun sa iyang laraw bisag unsa pay paagi. Kon mahibaw-an siya nga dunay problema sa iyang pag-eskuyla, labinas iyang grado ug sa eskuylahan, dakong katalagman ang gibahad sa mga ginikanang OFW. Usa na niini ang pagputol unya sa buwanang alawans. Simpol kaayong butanga, apan dako na alang niya. Ambot kon tig-absent ba pod sa lain niyang propesor nga maoy iyang buhat sa akong sabdyek. Mao gani segurong nahadlok kay takilid man gyod ang iyang estanding naho. Wa pa man pod ko idungog nga manghagbongay, o teror ba kaha hinuon. Madunggan man dayon ang pedbak mahitungod sa abilidad sa usa ka titser ngadtos mga estudyante labinas paborito ug wa nila ganahing propesor kay mokatap man kinis hungihong sa tibuok kampus morag karangrang nga molating sa tibuok bagtak.

Apan makapatahap gyod ang kanunayng pagteks-teks ni Jen nako.

Nagsugod ang tanan pagkahuman sa prelim eksam. Human ko nagkompyut sa grado, nakita nakong wa siyay eskor sa tanang eksam. Wa lang nako ni panumbalinga. Prelim pa man pod. Di pa kritikal nga hugna sa semestre. Di na nako problema kon sumahon. Wa koy mahimo gawas sa panid-an ang iya unyang sunod nga buhaton. Labing maayo kon magbinuot na siyag su’d sa akong klase, magtuon kon ting-eksam ug mohatag sa tanang asaynment ug resirts nga akong pangayoon.

Samtang nanguli kog papel pagkaugma, nakamatikod kong permi siyag pasiplat sa akong gilingkoran bisag nahibawo siyang wa gyoy papel nga itunol niya kay wa man gyod siyay bisag usa sa tulo nga akong gipangtunol. Pawa ra seguros hilas aron ingnon nga duna siyay gipaabot o lahi ba kaha ang naumol nga diskarteng gimapa sa iyang bagulbagol.

“Sir, naa man ko adtong last quiz nato,” pagduol niya dihang wa nay papel nga nahibilin sa akong kamot.

“19 ganiy eskor nako adto,” dala niyang bag-id gamay nako simpig sa lamesa.
Nasaghid ang iyang bukton sa akong braso. Nanglibawot ang akong balhibo nga nakabati sa kahamis sa iyang panit. Dunay dilaab nga kalit midaaw sa maong saghid nga lisod hukman kon unsa kini ug ngano adtong gutloa.

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Tokhang

Poetry by | April 14, 2019

More to roses than their roots
they fake love swaying
with the wind,
the inevitability of change.

Night attends
to the garden
to lull them
to sleep.

             The weak let go
and weather with the season;
yellow leaves go first.

Roots dig deep,
below the surface
wider than branches.

By the day
the gardener names
roses, and only roses;

the leaves have all
           fallen
       to
    the
ground.


Darylle Rubino is a faculty member of the Department of Humanities in UP Mindanao. This poem was published in an anthology entitled Continue reading Tokhang

The Troll in the Woods

Poetry by | April 14, 2019

(In collaboration with Hannah Green)

We felt a milder breeze upon our stroll
Although a hatred looms inside the space.
Which made us look around the spooky place.
The face which made us shout looked like a troll.
Whose facial hair is longer than them all.
Its body big just like a large suit case.
Its width is wider than the city’s space.
we felt like we were pinned against a wall
It made my heart quiver just like a lamb.
It made me think of what my fate would be.
This was a close call between death and life.
Its mouth opened and swallowed up a man.
I’m happy that it didn’t follow me.
But If it did, I would have used my knife.


David Paolo Brigole graduated at the University of Winnepeg with a BA English degree. He grew up and studied in Davao City during his primary years. His passion for poetry stemmed from when he used to play with words as a toddler. He is also passionate about drawing bizarre and beautiful objects and loves to indulge in gastrointestinal delights.

Food: Emotional, Political, and Powerful

Nonfiction by | April 14, 2019

Editor’s Note: This essay first appeared in worldpulse.com.

In 2006, my mother decided to open a small carinderia (local eatery) outside our home. It was a typical carinderia: of tight spaces; overwhelming nook and crannies; aromatic and powerful smoke from burning charcoal and wood; buzzing of customers eager to have their orders taken; and an orchestra of scents and sounds. Not only did Mama offer affordable meals but she contributed to the dietary diversity of over 100 households in our community. She whipped up amazing and tasty meals which she became famous for such as law-uy, a soothing vegetable soup with lemongrass and bits and pieces of fried fish and monggos, a filling mung bean soup with green, leafy vegetables.

My mother has always been a brave single parent in my eyes – resilient amidst poverty and strong in the face of a vicious cycle of pain. But my mother as an important actor in the food systems never came up. I have been a part of numerous global fora and have sunk my teeth on many advocacies, but it was in a recent forum which opened my heart and brain to many narratives within food systems.

I participated in the EAT Asia-Pacific Food Forum, a gathering of more than 500 food systems stakeholders in the Asia-Pacific region. The forum aimed at unpacking the challenges facing the Asia-Pacific food system as part of the overarching goal to transform the world’s food system. The forum was held in Jakarta thru the leadership of the EAT Foundation and the Indonesian Ministry of Health. It was an honor to be part of the forum representing the Philippine Coalition of Advocates for Nutrition Security or PhilCAN. The EAT Asia Pacific Forum served as a platform to discuss global food concerns, overwhelming as these may be, the format was personal, encouraging, and inspiring. Within two days, I tried to learn as much as I can, jotting down notes, taking images of the poignant slides, and personally linking the insights with my own reflection and experiences. I am sharing some of the connections here.

Continue reading Food: Emotional, Political, and Powerful

Dalagang Ina

Poetry by | April 7, 2019

Katulad ng aking paa ang mga ugat
Ngunit ayaw kong kumakapit sa lupa kapag nakatindig

Walang kaparis ang aking tamis
Subalit hindi mo ako matitikman katulad ng mansanas

Lumililim ka sa aking may hapis
Gayong ako’y naambunan rin ng sariling luha.

Akala mo siguro’y matingkad itong ating mundo
Samantalang dilim at liwanang lang ang mga kulay nito.

Heto at kinakabog na nga ng takot itong aking puso (paano na pagdating mo?)
Parang bungang tahimik lang na mag-papayugyog, mahuhulog.

Kahit walang lupang sumalo,
Sisibul itong binhi sukat mang nag-iisa ako.


Avelth Castro Belicena. Pagkatapos sumali sa palihan ng IYAS, naligaw siya sa Mindanaw at nag-iwan ng marka sa Surigao, Misamis, Lanao, Butuan, Tagum at Davao bilang isang milagrosang mandirigma. Ngayon ay nahanap niya ang daan pauwi bilang reyna kasama ng kanyang dalawang prinsesa sa puso ng QC.

Ang Bagyong Hindi Madalas Kung Marso

Poetry by | April 7, 2019

Ang bagyong hindi madalas kung Marso
Ay tulad ng isang pangkaraniwang pagluha ng langit.
Subalit hindi na ito pangkaraniwan ngayon
Gayong wala nang makapagpaliban sa kanyang pagbuhos
Sumasaklob ang malalaki niyang patak
Sa aking namimigat na talukap;
Ang mga dahong nakayung-yong sa hardin
Ay napilayan din ng husto.
Para kaming sabay na umuusal ng panalangin
Na huminto na ang bagyo.
Itong nakapatong na lungkot sa aking balat
Ay unti-unting dumidiin, bumabaon sa aking laman
Sa pagsampal nitong hanging humahaplit sa akin
Nang may umingit na iyak sa pintig ng ulan,
At ako iyon – basang-basa ng luha, humihibik.
Ito lamang ang maririnig na lumalalim pang tunog
Sa magkabilang dulo ng ingay at tahimik,
Sa mga butas sa lupa na inapawan ng tubig.
May paparating pang hagibis kahit tag-init,
Subalit hindi ako papatda kung ikaw man ito, muli.


Avelth Castro Belicena. Pagkatapos sumali sa palihan ng IYAS, naligaw siya sa Mindanaw at nag-iwan ng marka sa Surigao, Misamis, Lanao, Butuan, Tagum at Davao bilang isang milagrosang mandirigma. Ngayon ay nahanap niya ang daan pauwi bilang reyna kasama ng kanyang dalawang prinsesa sa puso ng QC.