When we left Balbalan,
I have kept my contact with my foster family. The younger sisters of Manang
Andi, Noreen and Roner stayed with us in La Union for some time. Noreen is now a
full-pledged teacher. Nanang Remy died of stroke and so is Chief. We call
Manang Andi, the chief as she is the eldest in the family. She died recently
because of hemorrhagic stroke. We reconnected with her niece who is now a
married lady and has a family of her own. I have also reconnected also with
Noreen and Nico. The advances in communications through social media had really
made the re-connection easier. Our midwife assistant Lucy whom we have called Bilib also had
passed on and we remember her for the laughter and joy that we had shared
together when we did our work there. Dr. Olidan died of cancer and her husband
also followed suit. I was told that their beautiful house on a hill was left empty.
An overview of the present Salegseg
Photo taken from Balbalan.com
Ampy passed her NCLEX
and is now with her husband in Texas and she now has a family. Her daughter is
also a nurse like her. I was told they had a short visit last April. Manong
Karyo, the village chieftain I was told had also passed on. He died just two
years after we have left. I can always remember his goodness. Ka Batiti took
advantage of the amnesty for the rebels. He had a very beautiful family
together with Sanja. He works with government now. Father Balweg was
assassinated and later on his other priest comrade was reportedly killed
also by fellow revolutionaries. I have no news about Ka Niogan.
The Catholic Church in Salegseg, Balbalan
As to the doctors
involved in my story, Rocco became a well-known surgeon in the Visayas. Chita
worked with the World Health organization. Rizel became a pediatrician and went
into community and school health. I met Dr. KZ Tan when we were both awarded
the European Union - ASEAN Scholarship and had advanced studies in Italy. Dr.
Tan went to Public Health Specialization while I did my fellowship in
Hepatobiliary Surgery at the University of Bologna. We met and travelled Italy
on several occasions. He is now connected with NGO work related to public
health. We do get in touch with one another through FB. I learned from Dr. Tan
that there were other younger people than us that went into medicine and they
are doing well in their chosen specialties.
On a EU-ASEAN Scholarship in Italy
I went to
developmental work as well as in clinical surgery. I worked in Kosrae,
Micronesia for 10 years until I got sick of an autoimmune disease – a disease
that is ravaging my physical body. I also had diabetes mellitus Type 2 and
hypertension. Due to the complications of the diseases that beset me, I was
bedridden for two years and was slowly recovering from the onslaught of illness.
The Citrus tristeza virus effects. The leaves undergo chlorosis and the trunks starts drying and dying
The tasty Kalinga
orange was almost wiped out by the Citrus virus. Only a few trees survived the
onslaught of the viral disease. New technology was being adopted to increase the
resistance of the plant to the plant viruses. Coffee is having a second life.
Kalinga coffee is now being promoted and marketed in a wider sphere. Hopefully,
these efforts will revive the fledgling source of economy of the Kalingas.
Pottery, weaving and tribal accessories are still not a focus for promoting
Kalinga, unlike in the Mountain Province and Benguet where this is already an
industry.
The Kalinga Blend being marketed as a high end coffee brew
The municipal hall has
become a beautiful building - big and strong. There is also a hostel that would
be visitors could use to stay. The church has become very beautiful. It is now
made of concrete. The plaza had been improved for the yearly celebrations. The
lonely pathway to Gawaan was widened and paved until the hanging bridge. The
hanging bridge almost gave way during the last strong typhoon recently. There
are so many two story houses made of concrete in Gawaan now. I failed to ask if
there are still thatched roof houses. Buaya can be reached through the Pinukpok
side with a better road and vehicles reaching the place. The national roads may
have improved a bit but there are still areas which are unpaved and become muddy
during the rainy season. I am not privy about the peace and order situation in
the area now. But it might have changed too. Many bloggers have written about
how beautiful Kalinga in general. Tourism is increasing because of the
popularity of Apo Whang-od of Buscalan, Tinglayan. Time had changed. But the
sturdy Kalinga had shown they can weather the years.
The present Balbalan Municipal hall
Photo taken from Balbalan.com
Our planned reunion
which had been postponed for so many times may not materialize anymore. I am too weak to walk and scale the mountains of Balbalan. These
memoirs of Balbalan would be etched in my mind all the rest of my life. If
dementia would set in, at least I have written it and have memorialized it
here.
The Balbalan Hostel
Photo from Balbalan.com
I recently talked to one of the boys who used to join and guide us in our treks. I was so happy to learn he is now in Canada. I had connected with the girl we used to carry on our back. He was not a year-old before. Now she is married and had two beautiful children. She is inviting us to join them on April. Social media is really such a wonder since it connected people from our past.
I have a lot of stories to tell. But every time I narrate them, I realiize
that it is not just my story alone. It is their story too. My story had become OUR story.
(P.S.: If the pictures are not attributed to a website or a person, it is mine. Those who own the pictures I have used and does not want to appear in this blog, please e-mail me at rqmallari60@gmail.com and I would be more than willing to remove them. Thank you.)
I realized that there was no time to sulk in Balbalan. Every day is another day and there are so many things to be done. It was gayunan orange picking time and Manong Karyo plans to buy the fruits from the tree owners and bring it to Baguio. He loaded two jeepneys full of oranges. You can just imagine how many oranges one jeep can contain. I joined the “gayunan” team to Baguio for the simple reason that I can go down to La Union and visit my parents. The gayunan orange is a Mandarin type of orange. The skin is pebbly without deep grooves. It is initially green when mature but the skin turns orange when fully matured. The mandarin orange is usually sweet with a sour taste but leaves a tangy after taste. The clementine and ponkan are among the well-known mandarin oranges The clementine is smaller and had thin skin while the ponkan has thick but smooth skin had a much sweeter taste than its piquant characteristics. The Kalinga orange more commonly known as “gayunan” exhibits a more moderate sweetness and less sour taste. The tartness that is almost absent. Its shelf life is longer as long as it is kept in an airy and dry atmosphere. They even turn out to be sweeter. Among the oranges I have tasted, it is the “gayunan” that suited my taste buds best. During its season, I go to Baguio to buy them. But after 31 years, the 1 peso/piece gayunan price had skyrocketed to 12 to 15 pesos/piece depending on the size and its availability.
Long stretch of unpaved roads in 1986
Our trip followed the Kalinga Highway that passed through Lubuagan and Tinglayan and connects with the road to Sadanga and Bontoc, Mountain Province. The highway is long stretch mountain roads, dusty, bumpy and dangerous as it runs parallel to the Chico River. A miscalculation would send you deep into a ravine towards the Chico River. On the other side are rugged mountain terrains and one wonders why these areas were not developed when you have pure unadulterated rustic and unblemished charm of the countryside.
Rustic but beautiful countryside
We traveled early morning in Balbalan. At 5 AM we were on the road. We were caught by the rising sun at the Lubuagan area. The Lubuagan countryside is both a combination of highland communities and breathtaking villages in a valley. The blending of the view to the Chico River with the mountains and greeneries was exhilarating. But there was a tinge of fright within me because of the stories of the fierce locals and the threat of tribal wars. Along the stretch of unpaved and gravelly road, we had felt so much serenity. From Lubuagan to Tinglayan, the road slope downward till Sadanga. Sadanga is now part of the Mountain Province. The whole stretch of the Tinglayan road was also unpaved and gravelly sometimes a half or a kilometer of paved roads can be seen. But the beauty of the mountain ranges as it played with the lights of the rising sun was truly remarkable. I felt a deep sense of sadness why the highway was not even developed. Deep inside, I praised the Kalingas for their strength and fervor as they go through the grinds of daily life without complaints. As we passed by Sadanga I found that its grandeur was due to the beautiful rice terraces seen along the roadside. Then we had reached Bontoc where we had our stopover breakfast. We had a breakfast of Bontoc coffee and a soup from a goat’s stew at a midtown restaurant. Some of the group who joined us ordered dog’s meat and was offered to me but I refused to have a taste of it. In Bontoc, I was surprised how the children would address us. If you were a male elder, they would call you as uncle regardless of blood relations and auntie if you were a female. The term of endearment was music to the ears for me.
The juicy and sweet gayunan oranges of Kalinga fame.
The Balbalan orange farms
Video courtesy of and uploaded by JR Garcia in youtube.
Manong Karyo saw some friends and acquaintances in Bontoc and asked us where we were heading. He told them we were heading to Baguio and were going to sell gayunan oranges. They got interested an in a few minutes, there was a line of people in front of the vehicle and we began selling the oranges there. When the last person bought his share of oranges, we had sold worth of five thousand pesos of oranges. That perked Manong Karyo up and off we went our way to Baguio. We passed by Sabangan, Mountain province and what a beautiful sight of the river. Nineteen years after, I was back in Sabangan and Bontoc on a legislative tour. That is another story to tell. Manong Karyo decided to detour to Mankayan and visit some relatives working in Lepanto and sell oranges in the place. Almost all of the one jeep was sold. Then we proceeded to Buguias, Benguet. Buguias is the vegetable granary of the Cordilleras. Patches of land are planted with vegetables only seen in the temperate areas. We had our luncheon in one of the roadside stores. And after our meal, we continued selling oranges. Old and young alike formed a line and just like in Bontoc and Mankayan, the children refer to me as uncle.
In Baguio, we went directly to the city market. And surprisingly, a buyer bought the Kalinga oranges from Manong Karyo at once. I would have gone home at once to La Union but he invited me to meet the Balbalan students in Baguio first. Manong Karyo distributed the allowances of the students sent by their parents to them. There was a tinge of deja vu in what Manong Karyo did. I suddenly missed home. I told Manong Karyo, it was time for me to go home and see my parents. I told him I would meet him the next day to join them back to Balbalan.
Coffea arabica seedling
I brought a lot of coffee seedlings from Balbalan and brought them to La Union. What made me interested with the coffee plants is that when I was still a child, there was a coffee plantation in front of the house. But they have to go when my aunt had her house constructed on the very land where the coffee plants grew. I was thinking that I would be able to replace the plants and had very robust coffee plants grow in the backyard. Years later the coffee plants grew but when they flower, they turn black. If the flowers turn into fruits, the fruits turn black. It was then I realized that the coffee plants I planted in the backyard were not suited to my terrain and the climate. The plants suited for lowlands were the liberia and robusta. I planted the arabica which were much suited to mountainous and forest like areas.
Kalinga heirlooms
I was happy to see my parents even for the little time. It wasn’t really the distance that sets us apart but the absence of communications. My father helped me plant the coffee seedlings I brought with me. I was very happy for the Kalinga jar and the Kalinga woven cloth given to me by Manang Andi. I only realized now that the jar had a certain meaning into it. The jar was actually a pottery vessel which were used in rice ceremonies offered to deities to give them good harvest. I would have wanted a sample of the Kalinga beads but these are considered heirlooms for them. They were handed from generation to generation.
Even with a little time at home, I felt recharged and went back to Baguio the next day. If the vehicles were full of oranges when we went to Baguio, this time , it was full of the needs of the people in Balbalan. Manong Karyo bought merchandise to stock his store in Salegseg. I remembered buying for Manang Leonor some clothes, brassiere and T-shirts for her to sell. Our trip was a wonderful one as it provided me a glimpse of the different places that comprised the Cordilleras.
We passed through small bridges made of bamboo, trekked mountains and passed through villages and entered the forest
Back in Gawaan, we had Chestcore outreach volunteers going to Buaya. Chestcore is a non-government organization that aims to render health services to far-flung areas. Since our Public Health Nurse Ampy who was assigned to us was from Buaya and she extended her invitation to us, we gladly accepted the invitation to join them. From Gawaan, we passed through Sitio Obel. I had been to Obel already and the climb to the village is very steep and it is already a challenge. But it is a farther challenge to enter the forest at thr Mabaca area. Along the way from Obel and Mabaca, we pass by houses whose inhabitants would ask us to stop by and would offer us water and a little food. In some we obliged but in some our guide will tell us to forge ahead.
During the hike, I would ask the guide how long would the trek be and he would answer me, not long. We had been walking for around two hours already and yet we seem to have not gone far yet. We had been walking and walking. Then I asked again, how long would it be? We are going into that forest and once we get out of it, we are already there, he countered. And I answered back, how long would the walk into the forest? He quipped, not long and he smiled and continued to lead the pack.
The Mabaca rainforest that we traversed and a leech sucking into an arm of one of the hikers
The forest was a tropical rain forest. It was wet inside the forest; hence, you don’t feel the heat. The forest was a beauty. Tall big trees abound with beautiful canopies. There were awesome orchids and flowering wild plants. We were lucky to see wild deer and a group of wild pigs. We were advised before the walk that we would be passing by areas where there are so many leeches. We were on long sleeves and pants where the long ends were covered by two layers of thick sacks. Our encounter with the leeches was that of annoyance but our guide had leech sucks every now and then. He seemed used to it. There were still leeches that accumulated in our clothes and they were moving a lot for the absence of flesh to suck on. The guide took his stick and placed it in our pants and the leeches fell off one by one from our pants. We were amazed and he answered us that he rubbed it with cigarette soaked with oil. The leeches were repulsed by the combination.
The people from Buaya who who hosted us
I asked if the walk will still be a long way out of the forest, and our guide, said, “it’s there with matching use of his lips to show the way as he moves his head towards the pathway. Despite the wet pathway, and some slippages, we were out of the forest in due time. We saw a village on a hill and I asked if that was already Buaya and the guide smiled and said that’s still part of Mabaca. We were nearing, the guide told us. We contented ourselves with enjoying the view of the pine forest we saw. We were told; some parts of Mabaca had pine forests while Talalang and Balbalasang are predominantly coniferous. As a biologist in my pre-medical years, my interest in these types of forests was again rekindled. I was mentally identifying the plants I saw in my surroundings as we were treading into narrow and muddy foot paths. After another couple of hours walking, we noted that the foot trail was becoming dry, larger and paved. After a grueling 6 hours walk, we reached Buaya, the barangay that borders Pinukpuk town. We were received by the people with their warm smiles. We took our rest and I asked our guide why did he keep on telling us that we are nearing the place and he answered me, “If I will tell you it is far, you might not even think of going this far. If I tell you that it is just near, you will continue walking and forge ahead because you think that the place is just around the bend or the corner.” I heaved a deep sigh and gave out a hearty smile. I made it through the mountains and the forests.
Eating with the VHW trainees during a lunch break
Back in Gawaan, Rizel went home ahead of us. Our VHW training has come to an end and we held a graduation day to mark this affair. We hope that we were able to answer a felt need on the community. On one beautiful December 2 afternoon, Mary Rose a teacher and a health worker trainee came from Tabuk. She met us in front of the house. She was holding a newspaper and showed us that we were able to hurdle the physician’s licensure examination. Pandemonium erupted and the whole village was disturbed. They thought something happened to us in the house. When they came to the house, they saw us rejoicing and they realized all of us passed our licensure examination. They joined us in our merriment. The gaiety and fun continued in the evening when Kalinga dances were done to celebrate the joyous day. The affair finished till the late evening. We were so thankful to them for sharing with us the joys and merriment of our triumph. We can’t forget these people who once shared their lives with us.
Handing out the certificates of completion to the VHW graduates
We were soon called for a national convention of all those who participated in the program. We had to leave. It was a painful parting. There were a lot of tears that had fallen from our eyes. Hugs and handshakes were not enough but we had to go.
The Gawaan, Balbalan Team
We did not leave the memories behind. It was with us until this very day.
Note:
If the pictures are not attributed to a website or a person, it is mine. Those who own the pictures I have used and does not want to appear in this blog, please e-mail me at rqmallari60@gmail.com and I would be more than willing to remove them. Thank you.
Kalinga
in the olden times is known for its head-hunting history. Balbalan is even a
term which means to wash the blood away. According to the narratives, when
Balbalan was Christianized, it had shed its warrior and fierce nature to a
people of loving ways, God-fearing and almost coy to an extent. They are
greatly hospitable, always reaching out to give help and truly honest. One
time, I was asked to judge in a declamation contest, it happened that my wallet
went missing. I didn’t know that I’ve lost it but one young lady ran after me
as I was on my way to Gawaan to give me my wallet. Had I lost my wallet in the
city, I would have probably said goodbye to it. I thanked her profusely and
went on my way home. As I walked through the way, I looked up and saw the orange
trees with many fruits. I was excited. I hope in due time, they ripen and we
will be able to taste the much talked upon Kalinga oranges.
In Balbalan, Kalinga, they would most likely return your wallet almost always.
There
was so much debate about these oranges. That the Kalinga orange is not an orange but
“dalandan”. They call it “dalandan” because it is green outside but orange
inside. Another term is kahel. You might even hear the words naranja or
naranjita (Clementine). When you translate these terms, they end up with the
translation as orange. When it is orange or yellowish orange inside, it is an
orange fruit from the Citrus family. Therefore, the Kalinga orange is an orange.
The Kalinga orange more commonly known as gayunan
Our
work continued and the training of the health workers was coming to an end.
Rocco after a month of absence came back. We were in a quandary if Rizel will
go home but she stayed with us until we almost finished the program. By now,
the community has been accustomed with us. Our mornings are not complete
without the coffee blend of Nanang and the pandesal by Rizel.
The clouds are amidst us
On one beautiful morning
we woke up with a thick fog around us. We walked towards the outside the house and
looked up to where Salegseg was located. The clouds were hovering Salegseg. It was the
same type of clouds communing with us. We were in the midst of the clouds and I gave the
clouds a tight embrace. I jumped with too much joy. I placed myself on the big
rock that served as the gateway to our village. I stretched my hands as if to
engulf the beauty that surrounded me. Gawaan is our new Sagada. I ran towards the area of the rice terraces and like the scene where Nora Aunor shouted the words "Banaue" where the terraces are, I shouted Gawaan to the top of my voice. The kids who ran after me were bewildered and amused and started to giggle.
Ga......wa....an.....
As clouds
cleared up, flocks of birds flew in front of me. White egrets beautifully glided.
They were followed by the colorful birds. The other group looked like ducks
flying towards the forest. It is becoming colder in the Western hemisphere and
the migratory birds have come back to the much warmer environment. What place
is the best to visit but Balbalan where people truly commune with nature?
Migratory birds as against the sunrise.
Photo from pixabay.com
Rocco’s
return ushered more invitations to us. We get invitations even at peace pact
gatherings. When the supposed peace pact between the CPLA, NPA and the
government represented by the governor and the military commander was held in
Pantikian, we were invited to witness how peace pacts in the Cordillera were
done. Added to this, this was on a grander scale because it was not just peace
pacts among warring tribes but a supposed peace pact among warring ideologies. In
Pantikian, we met the governor and some who were supposed to be on the NPA
side. The group of Father Balweg we were told was in another house. I was
thinking, why did we go in the place? What if there was a misunderstanding
among these armed men of different ideologies? In an instance the place will be
erased from the map of Balbalan. With this in mind, Lucy, the NGO counterpart
of our program, asked me if I can accompany her to see a sick patient. I asked
why only me and not with the others. She just nodded her head and I was forced
to follow her. All of a sudden, a tall, handsome, late 20s man, with a hat that
covered his face came near me, placed his arms on my shoulders and he said,
“Walk. Act naturally as if nothing was happening.” I don’t know if I trembled
but for sure I wasn’t afraid. I did not have a colic reflex and
micturition reflex. I was just scared out of my wits. The things I
fear were happening. I felt I had reached my end of the rainbow. I was lead into a vehicle. There were no words
uttered. I followed upon what my reflexes ordered me to do. I went inside the
vehicle. There were only 4 of us in the vehicle. The vehicle moved towards the
west. I was expecting that they are going to blindfold me. But probably sensing
that I don’t know the terrain, they did not do it. As we traveled to what I
called eternity, I can see the beautiful scenery of the other parts of
Balbalan. Then the road forked towards the north, following a lonely road and
as if to tell me where I was, I heard the man said Talalang. The three men went down from the
vehicle and I followed suit. The tall, handsome late 20s man placed his arms on
my shoulder and he told me to walk with my head down. We walked as if through time
and when he told me to raise my head; I saw a low rise thatched house. I
looked around. It is as if the area is for jungle training. I was told to enter
the house. There was a man lying down in a bed, apparently just came from a
hospital since there was an intravenous line connected to him. There was a lady
inside; I surmised she’s an Amazon with the way she dressed. She had a white
band across her arm with a big red cross. I concluded she was in the medical
team of the revolutionaries. They told me, the person has just had his
appendectomy and the wound area has fluids that were seeping to the gauze. I
asked the lady if they have dressing or minor set. She gladly brought them out.
I asked for a pair of gloves. I suspected that a surgical site infection
happened. I was hoping that it was not a complete wound dehiscence. I removed
the gauze. True enough pus was oozing. I asked for betadine and cleaned the
site. I removed the sutures. It was a subcutaneous abscess. I could still see
some sutures used in the subcutaneous layer. I drained the abscess. I asked for
saline solution and mixed it with the saline. As I was doing the procedure, I
was instructing, the paramedic. I packed the wound with gauze with betadine
solution. I prescribed medications and I asked what were being given to the
patient.
Infected appendectomy incision
Photo taken from https://i.ytimg.com/vi/8ZMex4arfyk/maxresdefault.jpg
When everything was done, I looked at the man when all of a
sudden, a whirring sound was heard. All of them except the patient started
scampering. Then the man came back for me. He pulled me into what seemed like a hole in ground. We were huddled down there. He acted as if nothing was happening. He smiled at me. He placed his arms again on
my shoulder. He pulled me towards him as if to embrace me. He was if was trying to comfort and console me. My heart was pounding very hard. Fear engulfed me. Then I heard a whirring sound
again, distinct from the first whirring sound. He removed his arms around me.
He looked at me in the eyes. He smiled and told me, “let’s go!” He stood up
slowly and he went out of the hole first, then he extended his arms to
assist me. I could only say a very faint thank you. He just smiled and gave me a wink. He knew that I was scared to death.
A lonely road to a village
On
our way out, we did the same process but I know we were not passing through the
same route. After a walk of perceived eternity, I saw a waiting vehicle
different from what we have used. They took me back to Lucy’s house. My other
companions were in the other house exchanging pleasantries with the governor. I
am so weakened by what had happened. I secretly told them that it is about time
we went home. The governor was so accommodating that he sent some military man to
protect us in our trip to Salegseg then to Gawaan.
Another lonely road
With the incident in mind, my initial
reaction was fear. But being confronted with a patient that needed help, it was
automatic for me to see, help and treat the patient. I was not yet sworn in as
a physician but what was on my mind was the passage from the Hippocratic Oath
that said; “Whenever I go into a house I will go to help and treat the sick and
never with the intention of doing harm or injury.” Furthermore, regardless of race,
color, religion, creed, sex, sexual orientation, political orientation, gender
identity, national origin, ancestry, age, veteran status, disability unrelated
to job requirements, genetic information, military service, or other protected
status, I am bound to use my power to help the sick and the dying to the best
of my ability and judgment.
A
few days after, I was called to visit a sick person in Obel Village. Obel is a
village on top of a hill just above the Gawaan valley. The inclination of the
pathway was so steep and you would ask a lingering question, why do Kalinga
tribes develop their villages in places like this? We have to understand that
they used to be warring tribes. If they are attacked by enemies, they can see
the movements of the attackers from above. Truly two men were watching me from
afar. I had difficulty in the ascent but at this point in time, I never
complained. I have learned the value of walking. Then I looked at the other
side of the mountain. I saw the cross. It looked like it was glimmering
from afar. I told myself, soon, I will reach you. Deep in to my thoughts, I was
surprised I was with other company. I recognized Ka Batiti, a distant relative.
I have heard about him that he joined the revolutionary forces and had been in
Kalinga ever-since. I had this lingering feeling that I was going meet him. A
volunteer trainee named Sanja from Obel kept on talking and asking about him. I
did not realize that Ka Batiti was courting Sanja. We exchanged pleasantries and thoughts about our work and what they are doing in the hinterlands. On the other hand, the
handsome revolutionary who took me to Talalang introduced himself to me as Ka
Niogan. I knew that these names are basically nome de guerre and not their real
names. I have no intention to delve into his real life, although bits and
pieces of their lives were told to us by the people.
NPA Cadres
Ka
Niogan thanked me for what I have done. The patient’s fever disappeared. The
wound’s infection was now controlled and was granulating pretty well. He
praised me for my skills and he jokingly told me, he would have held me hostage
in Talalang since they need me to attend to their sick comrades. I retorted
back, “Have I not become your hostage when you took me to that place against my
will?” He amusingly responded, “Against your will? You came with us even
without words!” I started to respond with high emotions, “What do you expect me
to do? Respond like the way you see in the movies? The
situation called for it. I still have a life.” Ka Niogan’s response to me unnerved
me further. And he said, “Come live that life with me and soon you will share
the success of the revolution with me!”
I
gave a tart smile. I am not naive and I know what the man was talking about. We
discussed a lot of things, and I now realized Ka Niogan is a very learned man.
Eventually, with the talk, I was able to learn that I was talking to the Master
tactician and master propagandist of the NPA in the Cordillera. I have come to
a realization that the war is real and not just a fantasy story written in
newspaper articles or a romanticized film. I began to fear. My Gawaan is caught
in a hotbed of cataclysmic upheaval. Upon reaching my home base in Gawaan, I
was in a daze. I was perplexed. I shed tears for my ignorance. I wanted to quit
the program right away.
The
next day was November 1. We decided to go on a pilgrimage to the cross on the
mountain. The climb was steep. The goal was to reach the cross. And after an
extremely tiring and demanding climb, we reached the top. We offered candles
and flowers at the base of the cross as we prayed remembering the souls of the
departed. Then the clouds hovered over the mountain. I stretched out my arms once again as
if I was fully-receiving them. I looked down to the valley where Gawaan was,
the clouds were floating by. I was amidst the clouds once more.
Amidst the clouds in Balbalan, Kalinga
Note: Those who own the pictures I have used and does not want to appear in this blog, please e-mail me at rqmallari60@gmail.com and I would be more than willing to remove them. Thank you.
In so short a time, we
had become part of the community. We had learned to speak a little of their
language. The children would laugh at us if we mispronounce the words. We had carried babies and children in our arms and shoulders. The girls became mother
confessors. The young lads would pop out from the window of the clinic and
would say hello. Some would sheepishly come near me and tell me about boy
things. I could just laugh.
At girl’s front, the
female doctors had their "girl" talks. They whisper and laugh together. During
siesta hours they were taught to sing native songs. But what caught me were
songs about the need for war and eventually I heard them humming the song “Internazionale”.
Unknowingly, the girls were being taught revolutionary songs and learning that,
I had to admonish them because we might be branded although I think we had been
branded from the start.
At the cooking front,
Rizel took a large cookie can and converted it into an oven. Soon we were
making bread for our consumption. The banana bread we did was awesome. Then as
we are invited into different celebrations, we were given a share of our meat
viand. We preserve them using soy, salt and sugar and put it above the cooking
place. The heat and smoke will preserve our meat. Sometimes, we dry our meat
under the sun. We either had sun-baked "tapa" or smoke -filled tapa. We have to
adapt to the absence of electricity.
We had our continuing
health care training. We presented to them herbal medications that had
medicinal properties. We taught them how to make calamansi-ginger-tamarind
cough syrup. Then we taught them how to make ointments for the herbs with known
medicinal properties on the skin. And lastly, we introduced soap making by
incorporating the herbs in the soap. We also taught them First Aid and how to
form Emergency Response Teams. And most importantly, teaching them the danger
signs of diseases.
Some medicinal plants that were made into soap for various uses - guava as antibacterial and cleansing agent; Acapulko as an antifungal agent and tomato as a soothing agent for the skin.
Our daily lives were
peppered with the goodness of the people of Gawaan and the outlying areas. I
was invited to talk to the graduating class on career choices. Knowing fully-well
that I am talking to folks in the mountain areas, I was probably expected to
talk about careers concerning the land. Besides the school was the Balbalan
Agro-Industrial School. But instead I told them of a story.
“The
story was that of a young boy who once wrote he wants to become a doctor as his
ambition in life. When the teacher read what he wrote, he called the boy and
told the boy that when you dream, dream practical. Dream something within your
reach. Dreaming to be a doctor will just be a fantasy. The young boy fully
grasped what the teacher was saying. So in the next years that came, he just
wrote, I want to be somebody. When this young boy graduated from high school,
he sought to enter the best school in the country. His mother said, if you will
enter that school I may never send you to college. But this young man
persisted. He passed the entrance examinations, he passed a scholarship that
gave him full tuition fee, books, allowances and miscellaneous. He was admitted
into a scholarship to the course BS Biology. Probably you do know what I am
pointing out. BS Biology is a pre-medical course. And when he finished the
course, he was on top of his class. His scholarship continued until the College
of Medicine. Was it destiny?
To
some it is destiny. But for me it was through LFHH. It is because there are
little things that we do not see.
1. Love. Love for becoming a doctor. Love for the sciences. Love for humanity.
Love for his parent. Love for what you are doing. If you do not love people,
you will never become a good doctor. It is in the patients where your power
emanates. You treat them and they give you their whole being not only their
physical body.
2.Faith. Faith in yourself. Faith in the people
who loves you. Faith in the people who have faith in you. And most of all,
faith in God. In every undertaking. In every choice you make, have faith in
Him.
3.Hope. Hope is an optimistic attitude of mind
that is based on an expectation of positive outcomes related to events and
circumstances in one's life or the world at large. Hope is positive. We may
fail today but since there is hope, we yearn for a better tomorrow.
4.Honor. We must live with honor. Do not forget
the people whom you think you have given honor to. For they should be the ones
to be honor. The fifth commandment says Honor thy Father and thy Mother. We
should do just that. Parents sacrifice a lot for their children. I have known
parents who persevere to good of their children. Look back and honor your
educators for they have molded you part of what you have become.
And
lastly, study. Study the people you looked up to. How they had become what they
are now. And you will find that it is not destiny that brought them there. It is
Love, Faith, Hope and Honor.”
I saw radiance in the
faces of the students. I saw tears welling up on the eyes of the teachers. I
diverged from my talk it’s because in the little time I had been there, I had
heard of stories triumphs amidst sacrifices, failures, pain, and bitterness.
They led simple lives, but we are human after all going through the same
processes of human emotions.
Note:
If the pictures are not attributed to a website or a person, it is mine. Those who own the pictures I have used and does not want to appear in this blog, please e-mail me at rqmallari60@gmail.com and I would be more than willing to remove them. Thank you.
