Category: Nonfiction

Staying Alive (Excerpt)

Nonfiction by | February 2, 2026

for Aida Rivera-Ford

On the eve of the Chinese Lunar Festival in October 2009, Aida Rivera-Ford invited me to her farm in Mintal to see sculptures of Nick Joaquin and NVM Gonzales made by National Artist Victorio Edades. I grabbed the chance to spend some time with her, a woman writer I considered a kind of literary mother for having paved the way for those of us who write fiction in English. I used to teach her story “The Chieftest Mourner” in my Philippine Literature classes and La Mujer Esa is an icon for me. As it turns out, Aida had a more interesting story to share. And it’s not the one about Don Jose Oyanguren, the Spanish conquistador who took Davao and whom she considers her soulmate.

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Make a Wish

Nonfiction by | December 15, 2025

When my nephew Jeff turned eight, I saw what a grand celebration looked like through his eyes. We had two kilos of grilled tilapia, a pack of his favorite hot dogs, a loaf of bread, three bottles of Coke, and a 350-peso bento chocolate cake that made him smile all night long. But most importantly, we had Uton bolok from our neighbor, literally, rotten fish. This was all his mother could afford while working away in Manila.

When she called that evening, Jeff’s first words were about the Uton bolok. He bragged about it because it was his mother’s favorite. He talked about his birthday, how happy he was, and his visitors, who were all his cousins. I couldn’t help but laugh. It was sweet how he could easily take pride in the simplest things. My siblings and I grew up like that, too, never with the luxury of asking for more. Gratitude, I suppose, was something we learned early; we were told to be thankful, and we understood what it meant to have just enough.

Growing up in the rural side of town, I don’t remember craving anything fancy. Food was just something to fill the stomach and keep us going. But when I left for college, my world widened. I wanted to taste, see, and know more about what life was like beyond our small Kohu back home. 

Kohu is a Tboli word for kitchen, and ours was special. It stood outside our house, with no door and one side completely open. Anyone could come and go. Most of our neighbors had theirs the same way, which made sharing easy. If smoke wasn’t rising from a family’s Kohu, it meant they hadn’t cooked their meals yet, so someone nearby would always send food over. Looking back, maybe that’s why life felt lighter. Continue reading Make a Wish

Weight of Small Dreams

Nonfiction by | December 8, 2025

“What’s your dream in life?” I started my class this morning with a simple question, the kind you throw lightly into a sleepy classroom.

I didn’t expect much. Maybe a few shy smiles, a few half-formed answers, and then we’d move on to the actual lesson. But sometimes, the simplest questions carry more weight than we anticipate.

The first hand shot up quickly, certain and confident. “Gusto ko makasakay ug airplane, Ma’am!” (I want to fly in an airplane, Ma’am!).

Another student nodded excitedly in agreement. Their enthusiasm was contagious.  Laughing, I also admitted that I hadn’t flown in an airplane yet, either.

It made us laugh. Three people on the ground pretending, for a moment, that we could soon ride that man-controlled big bird in the sky.

I thought about how wonderful it was to see them imagine something so free, weightless, and untethered. Continue reading Weight of Small Dreams

Flowers of the Cogon Grass

Nonfiction by | October 27, 2025

The road to Maramag was hardly a journey; a siesta would be enough to wake up in Davao City. Sir Neil mistook the cogon grass flowers for sugarcane inflorescences, or perhaps it was the other way around. None could say for certain, and the driver was very eager to blur the view just to arrive home before dark.

The van hurtled. The sky loomed as a subdued canvas. All there was to see were fields of white arrows, nocked on arching green bows, ready to pierce the clouds. There were long blades, too, unsheathed from the green beyond the windows beside you.

The ghosts of the burned weeds wisped from the blazing fields. The fires declared that they were no longer welcome. They could swallow you if you entered their war. But the wet roads against hurrying wheels could tell that they were bound to be miserable.

The road’s diversions disappeared in the rain’s mirror. Mist devoured everything. The sky grew paler, and so did the windows. The cinders of the hulls that had been burning were ashen to the cold. The arrows undrew, then bowed in surrender to the storm.

The tempest’s howls continued to trouble everyone, but the hum of the van lulled its unwetted passengers not to worry—to close their eyes until the weaves and stretching weaves of concrete and steel stood in their silent greetings.

And when the street lamps’ familiar orange finally does stain the roads, you could sigh to be home and not remember a brighter orange—perhaps a flame—and refuse to recollect that you were under the same storm with the flowers of the cogon grasses. You are tired and cold from gruelingly sitting through a siesta, but forget that the lives beyond your windows were wet from wading through the storm’s undoing.

James Bryan Galagate Delgado is a fourth-year Medical Biology student at Mapúa Malayan Colleges Mindanao. He is also a fellow of the 2018 ADDU Summer Writers Workshop and the 2025 Davao Writers Workshop.

The Shark’s Liver

Nonfiction by | September 15, 2025

As early as I can remember, I haven’t been able to see very well. Even when I was sitting in the front row, the words on the board seemed to lose their form. The white chalk’s dust looked like ribbons entangled. I knew something was wrong with my eyes. Under the sun, they shone—rich brown hues resembling dark chocolate—and in their bitterness, I suffered.

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The Parasites Have Penises

Nonfiction by | August 25, 2025

It started the day I came to life. The man who impregnated my mother denied the blood that runs in my veins. “It’s not mine,” he said, parading his cowardice. He painted my mother as a Jezebel, a woman his mother would spit on, and hurled vicious insults our way.

It was my mother’s mother who saved us. “No honey of mine will remain unknown,” she declared. And so she named me Rich Knowledge, a name that would invite mockery and confusion, which people assumed belonged to a boy.

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Usa Ka Dekada sa Thailand: Mga Bulawanong Pagtulon-an isip OFW (Ikaduhang Bahin)

Nonfiction by | February 17, 2025

Magtutudlong Pilipino
Nabantog ang Pilipinas nga maoy ikatulo sa kinadak-ang katilingban nga misultig Iningles sa tibuok kalibutan. Subay niiini, ang Filipino ug Ingles maoy opisyal nga lengguwahe sa nasod. Niadtong 2003, ang Pilipinas adunay taas nga literacy rates nga 87% ug maayong abilidad sa pagpamaba sa Inenglis. Tungod niini, gidapit ang mga Pilipino nga magtutudlo sa mga nasod nga dili makasulti og Inenglis sama sa Japan, South Korea, China, Qatar, United Arab Emirates, ug Saudi Arabia. Ug sa Southeast Asia mao ang Myanmar, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, ug Thailand. Dili pod malalis nga mihangop usab sa maong abilidad ang mga silingang nasod nga makasulti og Inenglis sama sa Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, Brunei, ug Timor-Leste. Gidapit usab ang mga Pinoy nga magtutudlo sa nahisgotang mga nasod aron sa pagpaambit sa ilang kahibalo sa matematika, siyensiya, ug espesyal nga edukasyon.

Kadaghanan sa mga magtutudlo nga Pilipino dinhi sa Thailand anaa magtudlo sa Anuban (Pre-School), Prathom(Elementary), ug Mathayom(High School). Diyotay ra ang nagtudlo sa unibersidad tungod kay gikinahanglang adunay Master’s degree or Ph.D (Doctor of Philosophy). Dinhi sa Thailand, adunay gamayng kalainan ang ensaktong unang adlaw sa klase. Kini magdepende sa tulonghaan ug rehiyon. Kasagaran sa pampublikong tulonghaan, ang academic year magsugod tunga-tunga sa bulan sa Mayo nga dili malayo sa petsa 15 o 16. Samtang sa pribadong tulonghaan, magsugod usab sa samang panahon, kon dili mas sayo o kaha sa mosunod nga mga petsa, segun sa gisunod nga academic calendar.

Pattaya City
Sa dihang personal nakong nakahinabi ang tag-iya sa Maryvit School Pattaya, iyaha kong gipangutana kon mosugot ba ko nga motudlo og Prathom sanglit wala pay bakante ang Mathayom. Gitubag nako siya nga pang-Secondary ang akuang lisensiya. Apan abre ug andam ko nga modawat sa maong kaakohan tungod kay panarbaho man akong tumong ug katuyoan sa pag-anhi ug dili ang paglulinghayaw. Gidawat nako ang maong tahas sa walay daghang pagpangutana ug pagkusmod.

Usa pod ko ka tuig gatudlo sa Prathom 5 ug 6, diin English Conversation ang akong giatubang matag adlaw. Gitumbok niini ang pag-umol ug sa Speaking, Listening, Reading, ug Writing skills sa mga bata. Dili tiaw ang maong kasinatian sanglit kon usa pa ako ka bakero, dul-an sa 400 ka mga karnero nga akong pagabantayan. Ang matag grado nga akong gitudloan adunay taglima ka mga seksiyon diin may mga tinun-an nga mokabat sa 37 ngadto na sa 40 ang matag classroom. Apan ang nakahugyaw kay sa maong tulonghaan, gisagol ang nakriian o regular students ug nakriian piseet kun special students o special education students. Kon wala ko masayop, ang matag seksiyon adunay usa ngadto sa lima ka nakriian piseet. Bisan tuod adunay gisangon nga duha ka Thai khru o magtutudlo (usa sa matag grado), apan oras na gani sa akong pagtudlo, magsolo ko sa akong pasundayag sulod sa 50 minutos. Dili pod sa tanang higayon nga puwede nakong disturbuhon ang akong pares kay sama nako, aduna pod ni siyay laing klase nga gitudloan. Maayo nalang kon matunong ka sa oras sa imong pagtudlo ug anaa ka mismo sa classroom diin atua pod ang imong pares. Gahimo ba kaha kini og lesson plan para sa sunod semana, gacheck sa assignment sa mga bata, o kaha gacompute og grado. Makasiguro gyod ka nga naay moabiba nimo sa pagpamadlong ilabi na og motukar ang mga labad o mosugod na og salida ang mga espesyal. Miabot gyod ang panahon nga hapit nakong mohural. Tiaw mo ba ng kada adlaw magsige kog check, stamp pad sa petsa, walay kahumanan nga pagpirma sa gaakal ug gapatung-patong nga mga notebook ug libro. Lupigan pa lagi ang pinakasikat nga artista sa kadaghang pirmahunon! “Makapahulay ra gyod ta ani kon mangihi,” pasiaw pas akong mga kauban.
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