Matríce

Fiction by | November 16, 2008

AS SHE LAY IN BED, awaiting with some dread the onset of the next contraction, Naty couldn’t keep from thinking about her mother. Mother: who had birthed her, along with her five brothers and three sisters. Mother: whose magnificent, sturdy birthing hips she had inherited. Mother: still living, with her brothers and sisters, in that tiny house in the raucous market district of Agdao half a world away.

Not for long, she thought hopefully, not for long.

“Soyez prêt. Contraction à venir,” a soft voice said. She felt the tightening in her stomach, and she strained against the pain. It lasted, she felt, for a very long time. When it finally released her, she gasped for air.

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When Dad's not around

Nonfiction by | November 16, 2008

Here we go again, Mom’s not in the house because she has work to do, and my brother going with her. What’s left is me, sitting on the sofa watching animations on T.V. Being a son of a seaman is quite difficult because your life is like a big slice of pizza without cheese on it. Sometimes, you just wish he was here! It’s really bad how questions float in my mind without any answers, like boy-things that sometimes my mother can’t answer. Seeing my friends having a complete family makes me feel OP (out of place), and somehow, jealous. I can see one of my classmates inside a car ready to go home after school laughing and talking to his dad; his mother is there too, smiling like my mother does when Dad is here.

I remember when daddy used to carry me on his shoulders and sending me to my classroom when I was in Grade 2. My classmates often laughed seeing me atop my father’s shoulders but I was very proud he was there, with my classmates finally knowing how my Dad looked. They thought he was a foreigner, and they also thought I was an American because of my prominent western features.

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Dapithapon

Poetry by | November 16, 2008

Pagod na ang araw
Sa pagmamasid sa luntiang
lupain.
Kasiyahan at hinagpis
itim at puti
paglaya at paglisan
pagbangon at pagkalugmok
pagtangis
buntong-hininga
lahat ay pauli-ulit.
Kaya siya’y hihimlay muli
sa likod ng asul na kabundukan
at sa kalangita’y ipipinta
ang pulang anino
nagbabasakali sa paggising niya’y
may pagbabago.

—
Unang inilathala sa Liwayway Hunyo 16, 2008. Si Krisini Nanini ay nasa 4th year ng kursong AB International Studies major in Asian Studies sa Ateneo de Davao University.

Pangapog: Thanksgiving for a Bountiful Harvest

Nonfiction by , , | November 9, 2008

The Pangapog festival is celebrated by the Samas of Samal Island located in Davao Gulf to thank the spirits of their ancestors for a bountiful harvest. A ritual is performed and then a feast follows it. This feast is celebrated annually, around the month of August.

The Pangapog festival that we witnessed began with a huge preparation both for the ritual and for the feast. After the materials for the ritual were arranged around an altar called the bunga, the balyan, the datus, and other selected members of the Sama tribe gathered around the bunga.

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Mission Possible

Nonfiction by | November 9, 2008

I settled at the back of the Toyota pickup, crouching on the floor. I reached inside the bag and wore my shades and sahal, ready for the long trip ahead. Definitely, this was not one of the top ten things I wanted to do before growing old. But I was going anyway. And I came quite prepared. I had plenty of water, and an umbrella besides. I was joining a medical mission hosted by the Southern Mindanao District of the United Church of Christ of the Philippines (UCCP.)

The mission consisted of around twenty volunteers, including five doctors. I was one of three from the youth sector of the church. It was 8am, and cold, the sun hidden behind the rain clouds. We were going to a far-flung barangay at the foothills of Mt. Apo in Matan-ao, Davao del Sur.

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