The IYAS Experience

Nonfiction by | July 10, 2011

It was an April Fools’ Day when I found out that I was accepted as a fellow to the 11th IYAS Creative Writing Workshop, and therefore, though I was jubilant, I felt a pang of doubt. It could just be a nasty prank! Thankfully, the organizers would later dispel this suspicion when they called me to ask for my confirmation.

I first heard of IYAS from my kababayan Paul Gumanao, who had already been a fellow the year before. Iyas, which is Hiligaynon for “seed,” is one of the National Writers Workshops in the Philippines. It is held annually for five days in the Balay Kalinungan of the Saint La Salle University in Bacolod. Though it is funded by the NCCA, the workshop has always enjoyed the support of several La Salle schools and the continued patronage of the Palanca Hall of Fame awardee Dr. Elsa M. Coscolluela.

The 11th workshop was to run from the 25th to the 29th of April, with a welcoming dinner on the 24th and a tour around the city on the 30th.

Continue reading The IYAS Experience

Because Krip Yuson Is Just Too Cool To Approach

Nonfiction by | March 27, 2011

When I first heard that Alfred ” Krip” Yuson would be attending the 3rd Taboan Writers Festival, I knew I just had to meet him. Undeniable as this urge may have been, it was also unexplainable and that made it rather awkward. I needed an excuse for going up to him. And then it came: Mr. Cimafranca, our Creative Writing teacher told us that our midterm examination would be to “attach” ourselves to one of the Delegates in the Festival and write about him or her.

I first encountered the Krip Yuson brand when I read a haiku he wrote that appeared in our Literature book. I was in first year college, and though I had been writing earlier than that, that was my first exposure to the Philippine literary scene. The haiku went:

Is Galman the one?
or are there two, maybe three?
each day, brief to grief.

That haiku fascinated me even though I didn’t understand it. When I dug into its background, I couldn’t help reading about the poet as well.

Continue reading Because Krip Yuson Is Just Too Cool To Approach

Kei by the Stream

Fiction by | September 12, 2010

I discovered that stream while wandering through the woods of Singao, just beyond our house, the last house of Apo Sandawa Phase 2. As a little girl, the forest was my playground.

It was a small stream in a shady clearing, barely larger than my arms outstretched, just a few inches above my ankle. In and along it were stones of different sizes. I would go there before going to school in the morning and after coming home. I kept it clean by picking up and burying the dried leaves and rearranging the stones that seem out of place.

No one else knew about it, and it became the secret center of my love for the forest. If I wasn’t in school or at home doing chores, I was by its banks, where I read or just listened to the sound of the gushing water.

I was in early sixth grade, just twelve years old, when I first met him.

Continue reading Kei by the Stream

Pakopyahin Mo Na Nga Ako

Poetry by | July 18, 2010

Pakopyahin mo na nga ako
– Matuto ka nang makisama –
Sige na, huling beses na ‘to

Lahat na nga ay nasa iyo
‘di mo pa kayang magparaya
– pakopyahin mo na nga ako!

Syet kasi ‘tong teacher nating ‘to
Wala namang silbi ‘tong quiz niya-
(Sige lang, huling beses na ‘to…)

Sige ka, at kasalanan mo
Kung hindi ako makapasa!
Pakopyahin mo na nga ako!

Believe me, ‘tol, kahit ayoko
Requirement na pati kumopya
(-kaya nga huling beses na ‘to…

(…Amin pa kaya ‘tong buhay na ‘to?
Basta, tapos na ‘to mamaya…)
– Pakopyahin mo na nga ako
talagang huling beses na ‘to.

—-
Karlo Antonio David is a 3rd Year AB English student of Ateneo de Davao University.

The Kiram Building

Nonfiction by , | March 21, 2010

(Remembering The Lost Sultan’s Mansion)

The Mansion in Kidapawan designed and built by Sultan Omar Kiram II, locally known as the Kiram Building, was a testimony to the life and artistic merit of a great man of history. With its distinct Roman-Torogan design, it was arguably Kidapawan’s greatest link to its Mindanawon roots. Yet its destruction, and the Kidapaweño’s indifference to it, painfully reveals how unconcerned the people are for their heritage.

Continue reading The Kiram Building

Revelation in Humor: A Review of “Red Wine for Teddy”

Nonfiction by | January 31, 2010

Aaron Jalalon’s play “Red Wine for Teddy” is an excellent work of literature because of its demonstration of refreshing humour, its ability to ironically reveal Philippine realities and its nature as a work that is uniquely Filipino. It is both entertaining and profound, a helpful tool in bringing the masses back into the path of intellectualism they have for a long time strayed from.

The play, which consists of just one scene, is about four meat vendors: the eponymous Teodor, Lydia, her daughter Ji-ji and Ardong. It is revealed in the four’s dialogue that Gary, an American who was a patron of Teodor, had been found murdered in a dump site. The four express the possibility that theft was the motive for the murder, and, in a light hearted sequence of dialogue, they fondly lament his death.

The play’s strongest aspect is its humour. It seems superficial, but on closer reading, it reveals the attitudes of its characters.

Continue reading Revelation in Humor: A Review of “Red Wine for Teddy”

When you die I will bury you

Poetry by | November 1, 2009

When you die I will bury you
I will have trees murdered
And have their corpses mutilated
To make a casket for yours
That is all

When you die I will bury you
I and our relatives
will be busy
Preparing your wake
Serving your guests
with coffee and biscuits
Presiding the bingo
Spitting out the prayers
That is all

When you die I will bury you
I will weep a tear
Say a good word
Express regret
And express sorrow
That is all

When you die I will bury you
That is all

Continue reading When you die I will bury you

The Door Left Ajar

Poetry by | August 2, 2009

Because someone has finally come
I open the door
after keeping it closed for so long.

The carpet is unrolled,
the chimes are hung,
the perfume sprayed —
all to welcome the visitor
at the door.

As she draws nearer
and nearer
my heart races

but then, without warning
she turns her back
her back she turns.

I close the door again.

Had I not left it ajar
I would not have seen
her coming
at all.

Continue reading The Door Left Ajar