Articles

THE TANGONANS AND ILOCOS THROUGH THE EYES OF A 10-YEAR OLD GIRL

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am Celie, the second daughter of Dionisio and Nemia Gaac from the then Despujols, Romblon. As the song when I was in grade school goes, "I was poorly born on the top of the mountain," this is how I exactly describe my birth. It is sad that I don't remember an iota of even the looks and the feel of my mother they fondly call "Neming." I was told though that she is the prettiest among the Gaac sisters. I could surmise Tata was so much in love with her because Nana bore us a year apart.

Nana died when I was about more than a year old and she was heavy with the 3rd child expected to be a boy. At about the time Nana died, Tata was about 22 yrs old; a very young professional and a good looking gentleman. A widower at 22 with two very young toddler-daughters to look after, … oh well. But the Lord's timing is always perfect providing the daughters caring grand parents and maternal aunts who are too willing to consider us family in the absence of a mother. Tata had to continue with his career in the teaching field where he toured almost every part of Romblon in the course of his assignments, rising from head teacher to principal, supervisor and eventually a division superintendent of schools, Division of Romblon.

We were left under the care of our maternal grandparents and aunties. We went to school in San Andres town some few kilometers from Calunacon, our barrio. Our tender feet got used to hike the distance to and from school everyday and once in a while a kindred soul would give us a bike ride or when a bus driver of the Tablas Transport would take pity on us pick us up on the road for a free ride to town and back.

As we grow older in grade school, we realized that Tata was very handsome, poised and very intelligent. That was also the time we met Uncle Milio, a dashing tall gigolo with lots of ladies to boot. Uncle Milio had a great sense of humor and would tell us wisdom-filled stories. When Auntie Ining came to Romblon, we saw her to be tall, brainy teacher and had a flair for music. I marveled at her singing voice I always look forward to visit her classroom during the subject of music. Ate Jessie was her pupil in grade 5 then. I recall Uncle Temio came a little later to Romblon and became a teacher at the Odiongan High School. I saw them to be academicians with philosophic kind of thinking.

My sister and I moved to Odiongan when she was to enroll in grade six while I was to enter grade five. We stayed under the care of a grandaunt from my maternal grandma side. When school vacation came, Tata arranged that we take our first trip and visit to Ilocos Sur. When I heard we will take the Philippine Rabbit, I was wondering if indeed we will ride a rabbit. Tata had taken a new bride at the time then and sometimes I feel wanting in his attention I would always feel jealous of my stepmother. Off we went and found that the Philippine Rabbit was actually a bus.

My feeling was that the Tangonans are above average family in economic status because they were intelligent, held positions in education and looked up to by their peers. Sabi ko sa sarili ko, principal ang tatay ko, malaki ang sueldo at mayaman ang angkan. I imagined then that I will finally see a big family with a beautiful house in Ilocos.

When the bus was about to leave Sinait town going north I wondered why we still don't alight from it. We were to proceed further north because the barrio where Lola Basilia and the old house were actually in the barrio of Santa Cruz. We carried our bags down the bus along side a lonely road where we saw no house at all. There was a foot path we walked; crossed dry rivers, tobacco plantations, uphill climb, open fields and when I felt tired, I asked Tata, "where is your house and where are we heading to?" He pointed to a small hut from afar covered with trees and its leaves and branches.

My imagination of a grand old house was shattered because the house was actually a hut made of bamboo and cogon.

The stairs shook as we went up and the sight of an old tall and thin woman sent shivers to me. The old woman was by her lonesome and in bed, waved at us to come near talking in the Ilocano dialect we never understood. Afraid as I was, I hardly made a step towards her and found ourselves in warm embrace in tears and "lukso ng dugo." My spirits were broken then and could not do anything but cry and hug Lola Basilia back. My thoughts were filled with courage and adulation for Lola Basilia; how strong and determined a frail woman she was to carry on the task of sending five children to school and earn college degrees with honors.

The hut was hidden by mango trees, the damortis tree, and some duhat trees bearing fruits at the time. Water was fetched from a dry river where holes were dug and in it are bottomless can pail and where water is drawn. We took our baths there and Ate Jess and I would only look in each others eyes seeing men and women bathe themselves bare sitting and actually unaware and shameless. Old women sometimes had bloodstains on their skirts out of menstruation and as though it was so natural for them. Ate Jess and I would laugh and giggle in surprise.

For the duration of our stay in Santa Cruz, Tata had the house repaired and renovated but still with the same materials. We left the place in serenity and the realization that indeed a mother's determination, love, hard work, and the challenge poverty brings paid off seeing five of the Tangonan siblings successful in their own right.

Now that we have children, I could not help but pass on to my children the fact that they are indeed lucky to have a mother since birth up to now because I could only imagine how it is to be loved by a mother. The love I have been seeking and hunger for even in my twilight years. I never knew what a mother's love is.

A snappy salute to Lola Basilia!!

A TIME WITH THE TANGONANS

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mong the grandchildren of Lola Basilia and Lolo Polit, I guess I am the second eldest; the eldest being my sister Ate Jessie. We are the children of Dionisio by first wife Nemia Gaac of Calunacon, San Andres, Romblon. Uncle Bano’s child by Auntie Saling could have been the eldest but sad to say she died young. Belonging to the 4th generation that early paved the way for us to be pampered by our parents and our uncles Bano, Temio, Milio and Auntie Ining. Since the brothers were separated from their only sister and youngest of the siblings, Tata Dionisio gave me the pet name "Ining" so that the fondness and longing for Auntie Ining was eased somehow. In fact my daughter Irene also took after Auntie Ining’s first name.

As far as memory could recall, I remember to have met Uncle Milio in Romblon. He courted so many lady prominent teachers in Odiongan and some were originally Ilocanos. Whenever I make "tampo" over any trivial matter, it was Uncle Milio who would pacify me and make me still with his sense of humor and loving care.

Next came Auntie Ining who was tall, lithe, and lovely; a bright teacher and after marrying an eligible good looking bachelor by the name of Zoilo Solangon, had some kind of rift from the rest of the family members. The young couple lived in a modest house in the town of San Andres and that offered us a place to stay while Ate Jess and I were schooling in town. Their eldest Helen and second child Robert were born in San Andres and we had the chance to baby sit until we were almost of the same age and became playmates.

What I vividly recall of Uncle Zoilo is his love of the sea and fishing. He would go out to the sea at night time and come home with a hefty harvest of the blessings from the sea. We would wake up at night to have a taste of freshly cooked fish, shrimps, octopus, etc that even now I could still memorize its smell and taste. I would call Uncle Zoilo a sea farmer, a river farmer and a land farmer. The table is almost always filled with fresh harvest from the land and the waters. Auntie Ining and he was a lovely couple who may not be equal in academic status but indeed they compliment each other with their own qualities and intellect.

Uncle Temio came last among them except Uncle Bano who was settled in Pangasinan and later in Paranaque with his second wife Auntie Charing Paz. Uncle Temio married the younger sister of my mother, Antonia (Toning) who was a grade school teacher during wartime. That makes two brothers marrying two sisters hence their children we consider as our blood sisters and brothers instead of cousins.

Uncle Temio and Auntie Toning built a small house made of nipa and bamboo in Calunacon just a stone’s throw from the Gaac ancestral home where we stayed. They had three children Naomi, Rommel and Josephine while they were in Calunacon. Ate Jess and I would take turns looking after these kids because Auntie Toning was frail and with a small body frame. I remember there was a hammock (duyan) made of "uway" where we lull and sway Naomi to sleep and when it takes time for her to sleep we would rock the "duyan" so hard and sing loud her name, Nomi Nomi…. Nomia.... The second child Rommel was a boy and became our Aunties’ favorite being the only boy grandchild then of our Lolo Ucio and Lola Antang. His pet name was "Boy" but my spinster aunt dotes on him calling him "bagting-bagting," meaning a small bell. Josephine was a baby when they left Calunacon for Mindanao. Ate Jess and I became very close to the family.

When we were about to go to Manila for college schooling, we had the chance to live with Uncle Bano’s family in Tambo, Paranaque. The house had a division on the ground floor where the family of Uncle Milio lived. Uncle Bano was just so kind and generous to be our guardian and surrogate father sometime when we were in college. There we met and saw the pitiful Auntie Charing lying paralyzed in bed in a room upstairs. It was Uncle Bano and Chito, their eldest son and a young boy then, who would take turns feeding her and tending to her needs. Esmin, who later became the third wife of Uncle Bano, was their helper whose added assignment aside from household chores was to look after the younger son Willy who was so sickly and had frequent asthma attacks. We had a first hand account of what kind of life Uncle Bano had to contend with having two sick household members and the sole breadwinner at the same time. Ate Jess and I had to find time helping in the household chores trying hard to be assets instead of added liabilities to him.

Uncle Bano was a head teacher at Ateneo Grade School at the time and the school bus takes him to and from school. Despite his schedules, he finds time for sports and leisure activities. He taught us how to ride the bicycle at Roxas Blvd and Luneta. He taught us to play bowling, table tennis, mahjong and took us to the Ateneo school grounds whenever there are school affairs. When they transferred to Marikina with Esmin as the wife, we would frequent their place. When Chito got married we were there to rejoice over the event with them. And when Dante, his son by Esmin who was still in school took a bride after a whirlwind romance, I was there to break the news to him. I saw him cry like I’ve never seen a father cry before. I saw him devastated another time when Chito and wife Lynn separated and divorced.

Uncle Milio, Auntie Vidad and their children were cramped in a one room area of the same house Uncle Bano and family occupied. We were witness to the kind of life the family had having children one after the other. Uncle Milio was an accountant at the Manila Hotel and we had the chance to be his guests and savor the ambiance of the hotel. Of course we were proud of him but not long after, he lost the job for reasons unknown to us. He became a habitual drinker and most often would quarrel and fight with the diminutive Auntie Vidad. But there were times he would humor us no end with his stories and one-liners in happier times. He would recall how he wooed and courted Auntie Vidad telling us she was his student at the Francisco Law School in Pasay; that he would tell her, "Natividad, remain after class." His love and attention for us as his nieces never diminished though. While I was in college, I would ask him to prepare an elocution piece for me and prepare my argumentation and debate materials. Even when I have a family of my own, he takes time to come and visit me and my family in Pasig.

It is just so sad that we were not able to see Uncle Milio and Uncle Temio during their last days until their funeral. Uncle Milio was in Bohol (Auntie Vidad’s hometown) while Uncle Temio was in Kabacan, Cotabato. With Uncle Bano, fate had it that he was with Willy and by their lonesome when the end came. Willy frantically called me by phone to rush to Marikina because Uncle Bano was dying. It was the day after his birthday when he died. Tata Dionisio purposely came to Manila to attend Uncle Bano’s birthday, without an inkling of what to come the day after. I arrived at their house and saw Uncle Bano leaning on the wall by his bed; still warm but lifeless. I gave him a sponge bath, cleaned his body while Willy brushed his dentures and hurriedly fixed it back to his mouth. I called a funeral service office and asked Willy to look for any document for a life plan. Dante came and helped go over documents and luckily found one. That saved the costs of a funeral service for him.

Deep inside my thoughts and in the silent recesses of my soul, I am humbled and proud at the same time that our uncles and auntie were somehow part of our lives' hoping that in our own small way we have become part of their own lives too.

Uncle Bano was the disciplinarian, author, the master in the family vice the deceased Lolo Hipolito. Uncle Temio was the academician, the philosopher likened to Socrates and Plato. Uncle Milio was the humorist, dashing, tall gigolo; the lover. Tata Dionisio I would call the educator, poet, and public servant, while Auntie Ining was the scholar, the darling, the voice and the princess.

A TALE OF TWO MOTHERS

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lost my mother when I was barely two. I never knew her nor remember how she looked; nor how to account for her motherly care for us. If I venture on saying something about her, it is based on stories I hear from my maternal aunts and uncles; her former friends who are still alive today and her looks I owe it to a one and only picture of her I treasure to this day.

She is the 4th child of Lucio de los Reyes Gaac, the first Mayor of the town of Despujols, Romblon then called "Presidente" during the Spanish time, and Crisanta Almaria who hails from Taal and Lemery, Batangas. I was told she was vain; always looking her best, fixing her hair, her eyebrows even when going to sleep. From her picture I could see she did not look like her mother neither her father; but of course she is beautiful in my eyes. Behind her womanly stature was a brave and domineering character; possessive and jealous.

Just like families during the Spanish times, only the male children were sent to school to finish college and so my mother did finish only elementary education.

I was said to look like her but it is not for me to say. This is one reason my maternal grandparents, aunts and uncles dote on me whereas my sister Ate Jessie was said to take after Tata in looks, so they say. Nana's friends in San Andres would argue and say "Ay, mas ganda guid tana si Neming kaysa sa imo Ning," meaning "your mother Neming is far more beautiful than you, 'Ning." Actually to me it is more of a compliment I could be proud of rather than take offense. I don't know but I hear stories that whenever she gets jealous of the co-teachers of Tata, she would do something to scare him into getting an affair with other women.

Looking back at my own marriage, I recall I would cry out her name like a child running to a mother when troubled. The pain with no mother to run to and pour my heart out is very excruciating. I remember what Washington Irving said about a mother:

And speaking of these words, I saw this exactly in my stepmother, Mamang Eling to her only son Erwin, my stepbrother. I would be a hypocrite to hide my envy, my wish that I have a mother since up to this day. Mamang did everything to ensure her son Erwin a good future; a bright tomorrow. She hails from Santo Domingo, Ilocos Sur. Her features are that of a mestiza having Spanish forbears. I recall that when we were in grade school, there was always this mestiza lady standing at the porch of our classroom waiting for our recess or dismissal. She would approach us and have always a ready smile, a present and a helping hand. Little did we know she would become Tata's bride.

I was so young and innocent then and could not understand why Tata had to marry again. I was a pain in the neck for them; always throwing tantrums to Mamang Eling that one day I was summoned by the principal (Tata) to his office. There he expressed his anger and disappointments over my strange attitude to his wife. Sensing that he was so affected, I decided to make amends. As the days pass and as we grew to be adolescents, I soon realize Tata needed Mamang Eling in his life. I know she tried hard to take the place of our own mother and in her efforts, Ate Jess and I resolved to love and treat her like our own.

Recently when my mother-in-law died and had no other mothers to be called, she was the first to run to my rescue. I had a heart to heart talk with her begging for a bit of love and attention. We were in embrace and tight hug because there was only the two of us then. Tata was not able to condole with me in this moment of loss because of his illness at an old age. Needless to say, there is no escaping the clause "we are next in line" and whatever remains of our lives, we should take time and courage to pronounce the words that for so long, were left unspoken.

I miss you Nana Neming! How I long to feel your presence in my life....

Mamang Eling, thank you for filling the needs of my father; for enriching his life; for giving deeper sense and meaning to his life hence he is still alive to this day!