Hot Summer

Perhaps summer is the best time to curl up on a good book, eat a mouth-watering halo-halo, frolic with friends in the mall, or just be a couch potato the whole day. These activities people would do to get away from the scorching heat, to cool themselves away from the discomforts of the roasting climate. Perhaps going to the beach is one thing that most families anticipate, to get together and do one thing at the same time, bond and get away from the cares of the day.

Yet, some thirty summers ago, one promising poet perhaps fresh from the Tiempos’ Dumaguete workshop, rendered a picture of how one picnic can be one opportunity for something more than frolic and picnic.

In “The Picnic” by Luis Cabalquinto, a Bikolano writer now based in New York, the persona does more than observe the sights and sounds in a beach, say Siquijor.

The first touch of bare feet to sand
Makes of us reborn children
We drop invisible weights
and smile like a seashell.
Our limbs are light as the wind.
Our heads clean as clouds.
Loneliness is the vague land
on the far horizon.

Published in the Manila Review in August 1976, “The Picnic” features a persona who observes more than what he sees on the beach.

For the persona, the beach getaway is an opportunity to not only refresh the body, but to rejuvenate the soul. The cool respite from the heat takes him and his companions away from the hustle and bustle, from all the car[e]s of the day, so to speak:

We are all good people on the beach:
We are quick with our movements
to help
one another—
With the baskets, with the towels,
and our lunch.

We retrieve a smooth pebble
For a stranger’s two-year-old daughter
Against an advancing wave.

The persona sees the people’s good dispositions, of those who have gone to the beach to relax. He sees that people who go to the beach must really be there “for the keeps.” They are certainly there to make fun and have fun just because they are [fun]! They are good people; they are kind ones; or, they become what they don’t seem to be:

We give freely: our gestures generous,
large
as the mothering sea.
We eye each other’s bodies in the spirit
of a free-love commune:
We are ready to sleep with other men
Or secretly lend our wives.

In the poem, the beach becomes an open space, like an open mind that can be polluted anytime. In the preceding stanza, the persona slowly delivers the poem’s tension. In the recesses of the persona’s mind, he ponders duplicity, he contemplates infidelity.

As in any other beach, which must be brimming of picnickers, the beachgoer is indeed thrown open [literally] to hundreds of possibilities, being given more choices than what he can contain. For one, his mind can go freely as to accommodate delicious cravings [for freethinkers] or go overboard as to contemplate acts as sleeping with his own kind [for moralists]. Here, the beach affords the beachgoer chances to sin. The persona can entertain such thoughts as flirting with anyone, or trading off one’s filiations, if any.

Perhaps the 1970s—the period in which this piece was written—was some substantial years after the liberation of ideas, philosophies and lifestyles in the West from within college campuses and beyond. In this poem, Cabalquinto echoes a freethinking sensibility; through his craft he becomes the herald about treacheries [and also truths].

Very well, Camarines Sur-born Cabalquinto sees issues beyond sights; he rather sees metaphors in trivial objects or situations. In a rather fun-seeking rendezvous, the poem’s persona gets to speak out more nasty intentions; the poet [literally] flings open the realities of the “fling.” Flirtations among men and [even] between them have never been as antiquated as in this poem written some three decades ago.

The persona, of course, may just shrink in comparison when—he comes to know some three decades later—what he chooses to do is not something to be wary of—it is not anymore something frowned upon. Times have changed, radically. Had the poem’s persona been alive now, he may not have to hide his affection for anyone whom he desires in one island beach. There will be no more need for corals or shells to speak for what is rather forbidden:

But—
We are not wholly people on the beach:
Back in our houses, back in our cities—
We live on other rules,
follow
different
tides.

Even as we leave on the last jeep
to town—
Our grip grows strongly
over a gold cowrie
We picked off a coral.
We slip it into a pocket quickly,
Away from our neighbor’s
greed
and eye.

Leaving Normal

Just before you bring the last box
of your things to the taxi waiting
outside, make sure the glass-table
they lent you is wiped clean, spotless
like your head free of yesterday’s
they-ask-you-answer conversations
with the committee. No words will be
said, not a word will have to seek
their approval. Dust off the last shelf
and don’t you go and forget the books,
scissors and things you lent them.
Empty your basket, too, of all trash
so the other bins filled to the brim
next to their tables utter nothing,
with their unfeeling mouths,
as you now head toward the door.
The driver’s sounding his horn by the gate
so just run past the guard you warmly
greeted, coming in this morning;
refuse his hand to carry your stuff
but remember friendship, for good.
Seated in the car now, take comfort
in the cushioned couch, wiping off
the dust collected on your palms.

Ateneo English Majors, 1990s

Classical Name
Guild of English Majors (GEMS)

Renaissance Name
Dagubdub (see Xavier Olin)

Literary Kingdom
Ateneo de Naga
Naga City

Literary Period
1992 onwards

Precursors
Rodolfo F. Alano
Paz Verdades Santos

Prime Movers
Xavier L. Olin
Maria Epifania B. Borja
Jennifer L. Jacinto

Members
AB English
AB Literature
BSE English
The Pillars
Non-English Majors

Keywords
Laughter
Literature
Love
Life

Link

Scandal

Back in the eighties, whenever my aunt’s movie (ware)house—they used their copra bodega for Betamax showing—showed bold movies, the owners would announce it would be exclusive screening and then send all the children out. Not once did I ever peek into any of these shows.

One time, before we were sent out, their neighbors and friends were excited after they were told they would watch Kiri. But before they ushered my cousins and me out, and finally shut and bolted the door, I saw something.

I hardly made out anything from it, though. I thought I hardly saw anything at all.

Hot summer

Musings on Luis Cabalquinto's "The Picnic"
April 2006

Summer is the best time to curl up on a good book, eat a mouth-watering halo-halo, frolic with friends in the mall, or just be a couch potato the whole day. These activities people would do to get away from the scorching heat, to cool themselves away from the discomforts of the roasting climate.
 
Going to the beach is one thing that most families anticipate, to get together and do one thing at the same time, bond and get away from the cares of the day.
 

(Postcard was a gift from Janet Lyn "Selena" Go-Alano back in 1997 in Ateneo de Naga)

Yet, some thirty summers ago, one promising poet perhaps fresh from the Tiempos’ Dumaguete workshop, rendered a picture of how one picnic can be one opportunity for something more than frolic and picnic.
 
In “The Picnic” by Luis Cabalquinto, a Bikolano writer based in New York, the persona does more than observe the sights and sounds in a beach, perhaps like Boracay.
 
The first touch of bare feet to sand
Makes of us reborn children
We drop invisible weights
                        and smile like a seashell.
Our limbs are light as the wind.
Our heads clean as clouds.
Loneliness is the vague land
on the far horizon.
 
Published in the Manila Review in August 1976, “The Picnic” features a persona who observes more than what he sees on the beach.
 
For the persona, the beach getaway is an opportunity to not only refresh the body, but to rejuvenate the soul. The cool respite from the heat takes him and his companions away from the hustle and bustle, from all the car[e]s of the day, so to speak:
 
We are all good people on the beach:
We are quick with our movements
                        to help
                        one another—
With the baskets, with the towels,
                        and our lunch.
We retrieve a smooth pebble
For a stranger’s two-year-old daughter
Against an advancing wave.
 
The persona sees the people’s good dispositions, of those who have gone to the beach to relax. He sees that people who go to the beach must really be there “for the keeps.” They are certainly there to make fun and have fun just because they are [fun]! They are good people; they are kind ones; or, they become what they don’t seem to be:
 
We give freely: our gestures generous,
                        large
                        as the mothering sea.
We eye each other’s bodies in the spirit
                        of a free-love commune:
We are ready to sleep with other men
Or secretly lend our wives.
 
The beach is an open space, like an open mind that can be polluted anytime. In the preceding stanza, the persona slowly delivers the poem’s tension. In the recesses of the persona’s mind, he ponders duplicity, he contemplates infidelity.
 
As in any other beach, which must be brimming of picnickers, the beachgoer is indeed thrown open [literally] to hundreds of possibilities, being given more choices than what he can contain. For one, his mind can go freely as to accommodate delicious cravings or [for freethinkers] or go overboard as to contemplate unspeakable acts as sleeping with his own kind [for moralists].
 
The beach affords the beachgoer chances to sin. The persona can entertain such thoughts as flirting with anyone, or trading off one’s filiations, if any.

Perhaps the 1970s—the period in which this piece was written—was some substantial years after the liberation of ideas, philosophies and lifestyles in the West from within college campuses and beyond. In this poem, Cabalquinto echoes a freethinking sensibility; through his craft he becomes the herald about treacheries [and also truths].
 
Very well, Cabalquinto who hails from Magarao, Camarines Sur, sees issues beyond sights; he rather sees metaphors in trivial objects or situations.
 
In a rather fun-seeking rendezvous, the poem’s persona gets to speak out more nasty intentions; the poet [literally] flings open the realities of the “fling.” Flirtations among men and [even] between them have never been antiquated as in this poem written some three decades ago.
 
“The Picnic” persona, of course, may just shrink in comparison when—he comes to know some three decades later—what he chooses to do is not something to be wary of—it is not anymore something frowned upon.
 
Times have changed, radically.
 
Had the poem’s persona been alive now, he may not have to hide his affection for anyone whom he desires in one island beach. There will be no more need for corals or shells to speak for what is rather forbidden:
 
 
But—
We are not wholly people on the beach:
Back in our houses, back in our cities—
We live on other rules,
                        follow
                        different
                        tides.
Even as we leave on the last jeep
                        to town—
Our grip grows strongly
                        over a gold cowrie
We picked off a coral.
We slip it into a pocket quickly,
Away from our neighbor’s
                        greed
                        and eye.

Recently, a local daily here ran a story on gay prostitutes being barred from Boracay due to their violations on some regulations in the island. The burgeoning business of gay prostitution says only one thing. The business is boiling [high] because the demand for it heats it all up. These facts are clear, however. Most if not all foreigners or even local tourists who go there are not [only] after the beach. They are after the experience from being clients of a healthy and thriving flesh trade—oh well—legitimized by the rest of the world. 

In the hot summer, spirits have already been scalded and scorched by the fires of hell so as to be intense about anyone’s sexual preference. Now, duplicity is not anymore duplicity. For if in the past, duplicity lurked in the realm of the uncertain, today, duplicity is the certainty.

N.M.

http://ninomanaog.blogspot.com/

Sa Pinsan Kong Taga-Dayangdang Pagkabagyo

Nabasa mi ni Manay mo—sa Bicol

inaratong daa ni Milenyo

an kabuhayan kan ribo katawo.

Sana dai man kamo

nalantop diyan sa Dayangdang.

Maski para-pa’no

sana nakakaantos man

kamo ni Nonoy saka ni Jun.

Samo na Manay mo,

pag-uuran na ‘yan

nagtutururo an kisame

ano pa minarugi

an minsan ming pag-ibahan,

pasalamat ako ta

pagkakatapos kan uran

may nasasalod kaming

tubig sa banyera

sa gilid kan sagurong,

nagagamit ming

pambagunas sa dalnak

na natipon sa salang

linalantop nin baha.

Masa’kit ta minsan an tubig-baha

minaabot sa may hagyanan

pirang pulgada na sana

an langkaw kan samong turugan.

Katatapos pa sana kan

sarong makusog na bagyo,

sabi sa radyo, igwa na naman

nagdadangadang.

Mag-andam kamo, Ne,

dai nanggad pagpaapgihi si Nonoy;

maglikay na dai magpukan

an saindong iniidung-idungan—

ta dai man kamo puwedeng maatong

na sana pag an uran sige-sige na.

Ki Bembem.

Biernes Santo

Natapos na an gabos na pabasa

Sa barangay ngonyan na Huwebes Santo.

Maimbong an huyop kan duros,

Nag-aagda sako para maglamaw sa turogan.

Sa harong na malinig, mahalnas, makintab,

Naeenganyar akong maghurop-horop nanggad

Kan gabos kong nagkagirinibuhan—magpoon

Kan nag-aging Biernes Santo kan sarong taon

Asta ngonyan—penitensya ko an maihatag sa iba

An gabos na maitatao—boot, bu-ot,

Kapakumbabaan, pag-intindi, pasencia,

Kasimplehan, pagtiwala o kumpiyansa

Libertad, leyaltad, kusog, kalag.

Mahigos an isip kong maghurop hurop

Kan sadiring sala. Kaya dawa dai pa ngani

Nakabayad nin income tax—mayong tawong

Mamimirit na singilon ako kan sakong moroso

O ano pa man na kautangan ta an mga ini

Binayadan na—ako binalukat na

Kan sarong tawong nagsakit, pinasakitan

Ginadan—haloy nang panahon

Sa Kalbaryong sakong dinudulag-dulagan.

Biernes Santo

Bitoon, Jaro, Iloilo

An Mga Taga Bagacay Kun Semana Santa

Sa mga huring aldaw kan Marso, maimbong na an paros hali sa bukid kan Buyo—minahugpa ‘ni sa mahiwason na natad kan eskuwelahan abot sa may parada, asta magsabat ini kan maaringasang duros hali sa baybayon kan San Miguel Bay sa may parte nang kamposanto.

Sa panahon na ini, duros an makapagsasabi kun ano an mga disposisyon kan mga tawo sa Bagacay—kadaklan sainda mahayahay, an nagkapira trangkilo sagkod maboboot, pero an iba man maiinit an pamayo ta kulang—o minsan sobra—sa karigos.

Kun ika tubong Bagacay, pirming malinaw saimo an mga pangyayari sa palibot kan sadit na barangay na ini—an kasiribotan, an kariribukan, o maski ano pa man—aram-aram mo na an mga likaw kan bituka kan mga ordinaryong ka-barangay.

Mabibisto mo an kakaibang parong kan duros, mamamati mo an aringasa sa tinampo ta bantaak an saldang. Mabibisto mo man an korte kan niisay man maski na ngani nagdadangadang pa sana siya sa tinampo. An amyo kan tunay na buhay mahihiling sagkod maiintidihan mo sa lambang istoryang ini.

An aking daraga sa kataid na harong na nagpasuweldo sa Manila maduang taon na man bago nakauli giraray—mapution na an kublit pag-abot ta an tubig sa Nawasa halangkaw an chlorine content—nom! Dai na lugod nabisto kan kaklaseng nagdalaw sa harong ninda. Sa Martes ang balik ko sa Kuba-o. Mabait naman ang mga amo ko—pinapasine nga ako pag Sabado, kasama ko ang kanilang matuang babae. Sa Let the Love Begin nakita ko si Richard Gutierrez saka baga si Angel Locsin, pangit man pala siya sa personal. Nom! Nagtatagalog na! Pag sinisuwerte [o minamalas] ka man nanggad talaga!

An mag-inang parasimba nakaatindir pa kan pagbasbas kan mga palmas. An mag-irinang hali pa sa Cut 12 [basa: kat dose] mapasiring sa kapilya sa boundary pa kan Iraya para duman mapo’nan an entirong pagpangadie sa mga santo. Linakad kan mag-irina an mainiton na tinampo hali sa harong ninda antos duman sa malipot na baybay harani sa kapilya. Nag-uurunganga pa si mga ibang aking kairiba ta pigguguruyod man na yan kan relihiyosang ina. Bara’go pa man an mga bado ta iyo man an ginaramit kan mga eskwela durante kan closing sa eskwelahan—alagad muru’singon na an mga aki

An mga aki kan mga mayaman na pamilya sa may pantalan nag-uruli man. Tulong awto an dara pero dai pa nanggad kumpleto ta si tugang na abroader dai nakahabol sa biahe haling airport. An dakulang pagtiripon kan pamilya madadagos ta madadagos nanggad maski na ngani hururi an ibang miembros kan pamilya. Hain na daw si mga makuapo na nag-ayon sa mga ralaban sa UNC; o si sarong pinsan niya man nanggana sa arog kaining contest sa Colegio. Haraen yan! Padirigdiha lamang daw ta mag-iristorya kan saindang mga maoogmang nagkagirinibo. Ay, iyo, hay, magayonon an trophy sa UNC. May kwarta man ni, ano? Hahahahaha! Iyo man po. Thanks very much and I love you all and gabos ini po saindo, Lola!

Igwang bayaw na nag-uli hali sa siyudad—an agom na iyo an tugang kan pinsan may darang ba’gong omboy na primerong pakadalaw sa mga apuon. Napoon pa sana man an duwa sa pagpapamilya kaya padalaw dalaw pa sa mga magurang kan esposa. Cute-on baga si baby, hay? Sain mo ni Manay pinangidam? Cute-on. Bebe, bebe… O Rosalyn, nuarin na an bunyag ki Nonoy? Imbitari man daw nindo kami, puwede man pating magtubong si Dorcas! Saen na ngani si apartment nindo, Glen? Sa Calauag baga, bakong iyo? Itukdo mo ki Lino tanganing aram niya pagduman. Iyo po, Ma.

Igwang mag-ilusyon na dai makatios na dai magkahirilingan ta si urulayan sa Katangyanan dai nagkadaragos ta pinugulan si daraga kan inang may hilang.

Maski an sarong tiyo-on na igwa pang kulog boot sa mga sadiri niyang tawo ta dai sinda dai nagkairintidihan sa kontratang pinag-urulayan, magkakaigwa pa siya nin panahon para tapuson an ika 14ng altar na portrait kan Mesias—na nagpapahiling kan pagdara kan bangkay ni Mesias sa lubungan ni Joseph kan Arimatea. An mga materyales na ginamit para sa abaanang magagayon niyang obra maestra dinonaran pa man hali sa simbahan kun sain siya lektor. An taon-taon niyang panata napapadagos nin huli sa huyo kan saiyang boot, sa pagpangadie niyang daing ontok, nagngangayong dai man lugod pabayaan nin Kagurangnan an saiyang pamilya na ngonyan nagdadakula na ta an saindang maboot na manugang-agom kan mahigos niyang matua—maaki na kan saindang panduwa. Siisay pa man daw an mas masuwerte sa mga tawong ini?

Nagsisiribot an sarong pamilya sa Banat ta iyo an toka ninda sa prusisyon sa Via Crucis, maharanda ta mapa-basa—mapatarakod nin kuryente sa mga harong na igwang mga linya nin Casureco, para dayuhon an pabas[og]. Aaaaaaa, si Eba natentaran kan demonyong halas kaya kinakan niya si prutas kan poon na ipinagbawal ni Bathala. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, kaya an gabos na tawo nagkasa-la-la-la. Daraha na daw digdi mga salabat sa nagbabarasa-kansubago pa iyan! Aaaaaaa….

Sarong gurangan na kantorang taga Iraya, na agom kan sarong mahigos na Cursillista—sinubol si mga aki niyang daraga para magkanta sa Via Crucis magpoon sa kapilya antos sa Calle Maribok dangan pabuwelta—alagad atakado an pamayo ta dai magkakurua kun haraen na an mga daraga. Haraen na sa Imelda? Si Belinda? Pasugui na daw ta si mga aki duman, iwaralat mu’na digdi. Ta diputang agom yan ni Belinda! Nagpaparainum na naman sa may ka–Tampawak? Ta kun ako pa an mapauli diyan sa bayaw mo, titibtiban ko talaga man nanggad yan! Mayo na sana man maginibo pakakatong-its, mainom! Susmaryosep! Noy, paulia na ngani si Manoy mo!

Sarong parasira pagkatapos niyang magpangke—mala ta nakadakul sinda kan bayaw niya kansubanggi—sa may tanga’ sagkod sa rarom sa may parteng Caaluan sagkod Tinambac—nagdesider na mag-pasan kan krus sa Via Crucis. An solterong ini haloy na man nagsisigay-sigay sa aki ni Balisu’su’. Pero korontra baga an sadiri niyang tawo ta diyata gusto man nindang makahanap nin trabaho ini sa Cavite. Dai man ngani nag-anom na bulan baga—nagbuwelta ngani ta garo nagkairiyo na man sagkod an maputi-putting aking daraga ni Balisu’su’. Ano man baya an nahiling mo diyan Polin sa aki ni Tsang Sining? Bados na gayod si Joralyn?

Ciudad Iloilo

Abril 2009

Pagpuli sa Bagacay

Pag-Deciembre dai ka na puwedeng mag-uli

Sa dakulang harong. Sa mga enot mong aldaw duman,

Matarakig ka sa katre mo pagkakaaga; saka kun magparauran

Na nin makusog, matata’kan ka kan manlaen-laen na bagay—

Mga bintana parasa’, an lanob garaba’, an atop nagtotororo.

Kun magparauran nin makosogon, mahaha’dit ka pa

Sa pagkadakul-dakul na basura—mga dahon saka sanga

Mga bagay, daga sagkod laboy aatongon kan baha kaiba

Kan mga gapo sagkod garadan na manok—na maralataw-lataw,

Tapos mapalibot sa saimong natad.

Maghanap ka na sana nin ibang lugar,

Duman sa mayong duros na mapatakig saimo pagkakaaga;

Duman sa dai ka na maparahadit pa sa kadakul-dakul

Na bagay pag nagparauran na nin makusog.

Ki Agom

Nagtutururo an su’lot mong palda;

Basa-basa an buhok mo; nagbuburulos

An basa sa angog mo,

Saka sa pisngi mo;

Nagtatarakig an ngabil mo;

Mari digdi—nagparasain ka, Ne?

Nagparapauran ka na naman pauli?

‘Tukaw ka digdi;

Hubaa an blusa mong tumtom

Na nin lipot kan uran.

‘Punasan ko an payo mo; ‘paimbungon

Ko an mga kamot mo; ‘painiton

Ko an hawak mo. Nag-aalusuos na

An sinapna ta. ‘Gatungan ko

Ining kalayo ta. Kaipuhan saimo

Igwang bagang dai masisigbo

Dawa’ magparapauran ka pa;

Dawa’ na magparapauran ka pa.