Chapter 14
Baguio
Few Few years back parting his ways from
Driarco, Taklin surviving those grueling religious training from seminary must
be add-on positive factor for his new found vocation. And what those beautiful
memories he and Driarco experienced together in the Seminary. As fleeting as
the wind, it was all what Taklin now remembers as he’s fast approaching Baguio,
the Summer Capital of the Philippines
after those wobbling travel from
Manila all the way up passing dreaded Kennon road. It’s good that his parents empathized
with him what with his sudden
turn-around of seeking far challenging military career leaving his good friend
Driarco in the seminary.
Baguio City was established by
the Americans last 1900 to escape the tropical heat from Manila
It’s weird but it seems his day is getting
smaller as time passes by nearing his official destination.
“Four years to fix things up while in PMA
not bad idea. I think I could manage it or the dream of becoming a military
officer would remain as an elusive dream ever,” he said as he alighted from the
bus walking around the City.
For the first time, Taklin feels lonely
thinking of the void after leaving his family back home. He was sure though that
this emptiness is just but natural feeling as he is giving up those solidarity
with your loved ones in favor of far higher ambitious dream of becoming
military officer. Sublimation this is it to focus more his energy for a far
higher noble purpose in life. He has been there anyway helping his father in their farm and now left
on his own charting his path.
“Father will always be special in his
heart, no matter what. What good it takes if as a son you did not return back
the compliment to your family who nurtured you reaching this far,” he reasoned
out.
Taklin‘s coming to Baguio was his
first. Like all other Filipino mortals,
he’s been looking forward of visiting this Summer Capital of the Philippines
Taklin is indeed elated. At least he scores one. He knows that he’s
barely starting appreciation of his homeland that sends many Europeans and
Americans exploring these places. A
foreigner of his own land, he remembers Mr. Ludimer telling him back home in
his province. Not anymore; you’re no
longer a stranger to your own land buddy, thought himself while the air-conbus
runs like bullet train thought he national road pavement. Its zigzag routes, Taklin observes the driver not giving damn
manipulating difficult and dangerous curves sending fear and trembling down his
spine. Chasing several buses while
descending Kennon road along deep ravine was disturbing. Occasionally, he would
stare outside the window feasting his own eyes on the imposing canyon whose
grandeur and magnificence is seen clearly through the glass. It was a combination of pleasure and torture
as the driver manifesting his recklessness. Now at last, he understands why
drivers are better than priests. Priests
would only lull them to sleep with their dull homilies. But a reckless driver always reminds them of
God every time they manipulate the handle negotiating through mazes of difficult
curves. It reminds him of similar sight-seeing in Bukidnon, Northern
Mindanao where pineapples plantation of the Philippine Packing
Corporation abounds all over the place as far as your eyes can see providing
excellent balance to the towering canyons seen earlier.
Momentarily, his ear registers some noise
as the bus gradually scales the tortuous zigzag routes, the bus driver didn’t
worry about anyway. It’s an air pressure disturbing his hearing. Recalling the first aid learned from the
past, he perfunctorily squeezed his nose closed. With one deep bated breath blown against the
base of his nostrils. To no avail. It
didn’t feel him good either. Swallow your saliva once you’re up there in the
sky, he recalls the trainer advising
prospective passengers in air bus.
Applying by instinct, it gives
him relief somehow.
The
huge lion’s head landmark along the road with “Welcome to Baguio City
“So this is Baguio ,”
he said with an aura of confidence and sense of achievement as if he has just
successfully scaled a Mt. Apo or Mt.
Hibok-hibok
The
cold weather was biting. Coming down from the vehicle, clouds of smoke gathered
steam gradually covering the rain forest and vegetable gardens towards the
south soon engulfed him.
“Looking like I’m in cloud nine,” he
thought.
Acclimatizing is what he badly needs at
least for one week. Mr. Ludimer was
right in advising him to come earlier. This would at least provide him the
necessary advantage over other classmates and indispensable in getting rid of extra
baggage.
“The training right there is rather very
rigid, I just want to be sure that you have the necessary preparation,” he
remembers the words of his mentor who happens to be an alumnus of PMA. Riding a taxi cab for Teacher’s Camp where he
would billeted, hundreds of makeshift shanties displaying flowers, fruit jams,
fresh fruits and all that were seen along the city’s thoroughfares as if
welcoming him to the cool city of the mountain.
“These must be the same people, hardworking
ones he saw earlier by the slopes of the mountain cultivating vegetable
gardens, engaging cut flowers production and planting fruit trees,” he thought.
People walking briskly wearing thick coats
with their hands solidly buried in their pockets caught the fancy of the young
visitor as the friendly lady cab driver dropped him by the corner.
“Naembag
nga aldaw kengkayo apo,” he said politely to elders passing him by as his
gesture of respect. It was tentative as
he was negotiating the final stretch of the Teacher’s Camp.
“Naembag nga aldaw mot,” one of the eldest
answered; the rest nodded their heads collectively.
“Welcome,” the other joined after surveying
the apparent provincial personality of the visitor.
Taklin fidgeted that he would be proceeding
Teachers’ Camp for a night or two before proceeding to Philippine Military
Academy. It was a good excuse though for
his scant knowledge of the vernacular spoken by the group. Tooth blackened by constant chewing of betel
nuts glittered as they grinned to Taklin.
“So you’d like to become a soldier,” one
said.
“Yes,” Taklin readily answered surprised
how articulate his new found friends were.
“Good to have you around. We have so much bloodshed in the country
today. Unprecedented one. People seem to
me are crazy these days bleeding the country dry at will. Chaos, disorder,
armed strife, rebellion – they’re almost becoming the fad of the time thriving
everywhere.”
Taklin who was held captive and dumbfounded listening the unsolicited talk.
“The country just needs a break for
peace. We’re elated you’d like to become
one of its crusaders. When you do,
please be a good soldier your children would like to emulate and any Filipino
could be very proud of,” the elder advised the young visitor. Wrinkles forming his forehead were pronounced
as he smiled.
“Like the Israelis’ soldiers who are
treated first class citizens by the Jews providing them priority seats in all
public utility transportation, “ the other intoned.
Taklin was taken aback caught off-guard by
the untimely message of inspiration from the old folks. He rarely heard
unfamiliar comments yet couched in simplicity said in such courteous manner
yet. He runs out of words but elated hearing the encouragement given.
“Not like the military hired by the Fiufil,
a big multinational corporation operating in Mountain Province driving us out
from our ancestral lands to drain gold from our mountains,” the other member
griped close to saying that hired military have no business operating in their
area out of their official function.
Hearing this revelation practically sends
shiver down his spine gradually losing and breaking his grip of what once
respected military institution. Like
globules swiftly freeing away from his fingers, his thought brought back the
sad memories of many farmers in the country forcibly driven away from their
farms by big corporation through hired military officials.
Central Palm oil Plantation ,
Northern Industrial Development and similar industries operating in Mindanao are good examples. Clearing of the area was done by the
splintered military belonging to the Ragtag Command so called because all
members are no longer in active service
conscripted by the government. For
survival, they offer their services for fee to any power-broker and big
businessmen requesting for order and clearance in any area in favor of the entry of business venture. Palm oil industry is one. It’s end product is reportedly used as fuel
consumption for airplane and in operating satellites or so, Taklin was told.
“The Commanding officer only asks us just
one question after tendering the summon.
Nothing else,” recalling the testimony of Nong Duroy many months passed.
“And what is it?” the question playing back in his memory.
“Just answer me either ‘Yes or No!’ . . . .
Do you want still to live?”
“Who dares to answer ‘No’ when the cold
muzzle of 38 caliber is right poking your forehead. No way unless you’d like to postpone your
birthday forever.”
“In simple terms, the CO summoning us under
the direction of owner is forcibly coercing us to vacate our area
for the project or they’re going to have our heads blown to pieces,” Nong Duroy
reminisced sadly the incident.
“We’re given payment alright. But not current fair market value either. How
would we ever survive.” And the irony of
it all, the deal was done right inside the palm oil industry office,” the poor
farmer continued griping.
Looking around Taklin realized that his
friends were already far away. It’s as
if he has just woke up from deep sleep.
He proceeded walking toward the Teachers’ Camp dangling ruckpack in his
back. The accommodation was warm. His
room spacious and cozy. He had plenty of
sleep that night gaining more energy restoring lost calories.
Wanting to survey its thoroughfares, he
woke up early and hurriedly don his Nike running outfit. They were brand new his mother purposely
provided him to help him sustain his vitality while away from home.
“Early bird catches worm,” he thought while
jogging He would take maybe his coffee
in downtown. First he went around the
city and catches there several sport enthusiasts jogging. Too many of them were
seen later running in the oval joining
the Gintong Alay trainees honing their skills for international
competition. Following their circular
routes, he noticed that he is actually heading back to the camp. Running by intuition, he digressed from the
route and group passed. Turning left he passed Hyatt hotel and descending
further he reached recreation center of the Americans. This is Camp John Hay,
he saw printed on the billboard by the road.
A scenic cemetery nearby for animal pets
invited his curiosity. Dog, cats, birds
– all these were represented by their dummies atop their burial ground, holy
Taklin supposed. He was amused what he saw and started thinking whatever happened to Juan de la Cruz why
dogs, cats and even rice fields rats end their natural death as sumptuous meal
either in Filipino home or taken as appetizers during drinking spree. He himself had tasted dog’s meat once and
good heavens, who could afford
forgetting its delicious taste any foreigner might shout ‘fuck you men.’
He has been a certified dog lover himself
and could not stomach being negligent
the barbarity of Juan de la Cruz towards dogs much less eat their
meat. But unlike those duped into eating
without their knowledge, he too fell
into the trap.
He
recalled donating 250 cc of type “B” blood for the first time to this good
friend Emily who went by-pass operation at
Philippine Heart Center of Asia in Manila Manila
Running out of patience aggravated by is
hungry stomach, he took his glass filled to the brim with Marca Demoño one
after the other shots. As if Emily’s father inadvertently set in the
flavor for supper, hot menu was just
served on time. With his eyes almost
cross-eyed from the effect of Marca Demoño, he whetted his appetite at will. He
kept coming back to the table scooping from the casserole what looks like dark
meat stewed in potatoes and pechay. And
lo with eyes wide open regaining his sanity he almost choked to death
discovering that the last piece of meat he ate was that of dogs’ feet the remaining nails protruding yet! No wonder that he finds the color, charcoal
black, charred by fire too suspecting.
From then on, he promised not to fall into similar trap.
Meanwhile, he continues sharing his blood
to the needy. Thus far, he has donated
gallons of blood having done it several times in a row. Had he not contacted malaria from one of his
vacation in Mindoro , he would have added
several gallons more.
“It’s good for the body. Impurities are
sucked out from veins,” he told his friends later for his generosity. Besides, it’s good for the soul you know
saving lives,” he would add giving premium that blood is life..
“It’s better to give than receiving it yourself,” he challenged people.
Indeed, Filipinos penchant of eating dog’s
meat still intrigued Taklin. Is it for arts, culture, poverty, medicine
whatever why Juan de la Cruz has to go
this far? Unfortunately, Taklin believes
that final answer is still blowing in
the wind. How would you account
for instance why other regions are so crazy for dogs meat. He has seen for instance that people for
Surigao del Sur, Mountain
Province
“But no, we don’t take them as part of our
meal. Very rarely,” he qualified. When a dog is butchered for you, that means
you are very special visitor to us, he was told by Fred, another friend from
Surigao. Grinded mixed with chili cooked till the water is drained make the
Mountaineers from Ifugao special.
Roasted dog are what Filipino working in Middle
East prepare during special occasion. Taklin saw once a picture showing dog roasted
with the celebrants at the back grinning wild.
No wonder they look like bulldogs too, remembering the shot. He hears several other equally exotic yet
strange menu like those double killed, balut
na aso and nilabyog unfortunately
has not seen them served before his naked yes.
Save for the double-killed he very well knew of rare and weird how the balut
na aso and nilabyog performed or
cooked.
How are they cooked?
“Oh simple,” Darwin
from Cebu would say.
“All you have to do is to look for a female
dog on her way to delivery say three to
six months depending your taste. Then
have her throat slit, body cleaned including the internal parts, intestines and
all that leaving unborn puppies intact.
Treat the stomach with clove buds, pineapple juice, rum, brown sugar and
all that. Garnish with pineapple slices
and cherries if you wish when you’re through cooking. Cooked for one and a half hour basting it once in awhile.
“Looks like you’re performing an abortion,”
Taklin protested once. But Darwin
“If you find that menu funny, the more with
nilabyog. It’s crazy, one that’s
maybe only existing from the rabid
dog-eaters.”
Save
for the vernacular implying rope rotating in the air, he was practically
innocent of what Darwin
“All you have to do starved the dog two
to five days till drained of impurities
and energy sapped. Second, bought one kilo of lechon and cut them into pieces
giving them to the dog. Meanwhile,
prepare a container with vinegar, onions, salt and all that. And as the dog
consumes the last piece of lechon have a close grip of his tail and throw him
rotating him around the air. Don’t drop
him until he could not stand reeling As
he vomits, catch the lechon back to the container and serve while still hot,”
Taklin almost died laughing.
“You see the folly of man. He makes himself more than dog instead out of
his silly menus prepared,” Taklin rationalized.
No
wonder that Americans lately berated such practice in their national
daily. Welcome to Filipino arts and
culture celebration says the caption with two Filipinos roasting a dog in the background. The streamer looks inviting but not when one
focuses on the caricature of Juan de la Cruz as executioner and cook of loyal
pets, a member of a family to Uncle Sam.
Taklin would also recall Sionel Jose’s Mass,
a migrant from the province living in Manila
“But do animals have karma?” Taklin would
ask later after reading the novel. Maybe not farfetched idea. They too are
God’s creation. They are in fact held sacred by some ethnic groups believing in incarnation.
Indians don’t butchers cows. They believed
them to be the reincarnation of their relatives. The earth quakes, rocks fell, trees regain
vitality, birds and the bees singing merrily when Christ resurrected from the
grave observes Paul Tillich, famous
German theologian. Sionil Jose of course
vindicates the danger of killing dog.
The Mayor’s wife died instead from the fresh dog’s blood poured into her
throat without seeing herself recovering from asthma and weak lungs. Good grief Charlie Brown, Samson, the
protagonist might have uttered relieved. Wish thunders would strike dog-eaters
sometimes., Taklin de la Cruz would probably willing to die not eating dog’s
meat and not the other way around, the though he finds amusing.
Incidentally, Taklin had similar experience. His own pet Mascara, so
called because eyes seems to be sporting black and white spectacle sold by his
mother without his knowledge. The pet went
back to him limping and blood draining down his head begging for dear life from
the buyer rushing after him.
“Sorry kid but your mother already sold him
to us,” he said.
“Ah okay,” kid’s response fidgeting buyer
to come closer to get Mascara.
Hesitant and staring right to the eyes, he
extended Mascara whining from the damage done by the butcher with his left
hand. But as the butcher was reaching
out for his pet, he unleashed a solid fifty kilos punch to the chin. The swift right cross follow-up to the bread
basket sent the poor man falling on his knees to the ground like marshmallow.
“Good for you,” he told leaving the butcher
gnashing his teeth in pain.
He also quiet vividly recall similar
cemetery at San Elmo town, an island facing the famous Boracay island to the
north and Sta. Elena, an enchanting municipality whose best contribution to the
country are two lovely fine actresses in Philippine movies. It’s unfortunate
however that some barangays are endemic of malaria. Huge life-size artworks of sand-gravel and
cement mixture are all what you would see at their cemetery. In fact, some of its dummies atop the burial ground like a
miniature of small boat, painted fighting cock, a guitar and similar hallmarks
could be very excellent substitute for any watchtower to fisherman.
The mere sight alone of these objects from
the distance would indicate how many nautical miles you are from the
destination. The area happens to fall
under the typhoon belt zone. Transforming these into water breakers, typhoon
sometimes could not wreck damage to Sta. Elena.
With varied huge concrete sea waterbreakers, onrushing giant waves would
find their way back to the sea as they crash their way during typhoons. An earthquake burying these masterpieces to the ground might be it. But so far none of such calamity has
destroyed these important monuments. Maybe because of many dead bodies long buried under whose sanctity
preserved all the beauty over its niches. So be it.
Back to reality, Taklin noted that none of
his jogging outfit was drenched by perspiration despite of considerable
kilometers covered. Leaving Camp John
Hay, he started increasing his speed keeping abreast with the blistering pace set
by other Baguio
“The many the risk, the better and colorful the challenge.”
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Teachers camp occupants have already their
breakfast at the refectory upon his arrival. He settled himself to the table by
the fireplace to keep himself warm while waiting for his food. A medium size, sinewy broad soldiers, clean
shaven around forty years old man approached him. Taklin gesture his right hand
for his seat at the same time surveying unexpectedly the personality of the visitor
that early.
“Taklin de la Rosa,” the man said sending tremble down his back.
“You’re right. I am.”
“Nice meeting you. I am Capt. Estrada. Col. Joselito Ludimer’s
bosom friend. Mr. Mirang is also with us in the Reform the Society Movement, RAM for short”
the intruder said showing his ID indicating that indeed he is an officer of the military.
Only then that the prospective pleb recovered his normal composure
intrigued mentioning the name of his previous military mentor back then at Sta.
Rita.
“I’m pleased meeting you too Capt. Estrada,”
Taklin answered courteously standing dropping his head a bit as a gesture of respect.
“I’m sorry kid for my blitzkrieg appearance
but you see I just received a wire from Mr. Mirang that you would be coming over to Baguio
“Just fine, I suppose. Do take your breakfast with me.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll just manage. A cup of
coffee and a piece of bread will do. I was told that you’re new comer to Baguio
“You’re right,” Taklin responded without
batting an eyelash. His breakfast was
put on the table by the waiter. It includes salted eggs with sliced tomatoes
spread through it and fried pork chop. Capt. Estrada settled for coffee only
and slice bread telling Taklin that he takes only rice soup and bread for
breakfast. He is rabid sport enthusiast himself playing ballgames like
basketball, softball and volleyball with intensity. He jogs but mainly to
sustain his stamina in those ballgames specially basketball where excels
in. It is where his friendship with Col.
Ludimer developed.
“Excuse me. Col. Ludimer might have not
divulged it. But it has been the tradition of RSM to offer services in whatever
way we could contribute to those who are taking up military science as good
cheer hopefully to perk your ambition up too to be one with us serving the
country as military men for good.“
“Even if one does not intend to join your
organization?”
“You’re right. We respect each free will of
an individual. We just feel it’s one of the basic need by us who have been
through the rigors of training you know. So kid hope you would have four
fruitful years ahead of you in the Academy. Keep it up we’re around to help you stand on your feet.”
“We’re almost like brothers with Joe- that’s what we call him
when we were at the academy then.
Joselit is just too formal. His eruditeness, scholarship, prudence and
bravery remind us of our great hero Dr. Jose Rizal. He‘s almost his namesake
precisely we alter his nickname “Lito” we found too boyish to that of Jose, Dr.
Rizal’s nickname maybe to his friends.
And like the great hero, his academic grades at PMA is yet to be
surpassed. Hope you could be another
candidate to carry the torch for excellence.”
Taklin grinds hearing the anecdote of his good
friend Col. Ludimer.
“What’s up?”
“Well its’ just like this as requested by
my good friend Joe, I’d like that you’re safe in this city. It’s one of
the most peaceful city in the country, you know. My residence is
actually right in the heart of the City.”
“Like Bukidnon, it’s good place to live
at. Cold, fresh fruits, place conducive
to study and training. Yes, that’s why
the government has the Philippine
Military Academy established near this city,” he paused for a moment
summoning enough air to sustain his talk.
“Those are commercials. Let’s go to
business. Joe and me belong you know to
Reform the Society Movement as earlier stated.
It is a unique organization among
PMERs recognized by Stock Exchange Commission meant to build military
ideals right from military service. In one word ‘Democracy’.’ Other
organization might have theirs. It
doesn’t make any difference. The approaches maybe different but the essence is
similar I suppose. The only glaring
difference we have from the rest is that we treat commies as our arch enemies.
To include their misguided accomplices – leftists, labor leaders, students and
their misguided mentors, laymen, religious or who knows – even from among our
ranks. We’ve been there and have offered our lives for democracy and freedom.
No punning here . These people, take note, do not deserve any of our trust. If we could only wipe them out from the face
of the earth, we will do it only to protect our freedom and democracy for the
flag and country. God forbid, there should be no emergence of this godless
society. Again we might pay our lives as price for this cause. No problem. Yes,
by all means and we will be happy offering it.”
“Tell us if you know one and we’ll show you
how it works. We will have his head axed
and rolled to the ground - anytime and anywhere you want”
“Without due process of law!”
“No need. The more you negotiate with them,
the easier they explain the issues away. For as long as you deliver the goods
clean, no need for those extra legal help.”
Taklin just opted listening but more shocked and disoriented on
the message just heard.
“I know you’re probably frightened hearing
this revelation. But this is precisely what we’ve been doing all those who
would be joining our ranks – no holds-barred discussion on the mission we have
and meting out of desirable penalty!”
Taklin remained glued in the receiving end
waiting further stunning issues.
“These are faceless people – scum of the
earth we would be happy dumping around making them effective fertilizers for
democracy to thrive.”
“On the first place, these people don’t
deserve life. Not only that they do not respect our Constitution but also are
raising up arms against duly constituted authority elected by millions of
people to guide us through towards peace and development.”
“To think that they have the answer to our
country’s problem and that it only communism who could save it, is only true to
people suffering neurosis. Neurotic
claim as psychologist would say. God
holds the only key to our salvation. If
I may sound religious. Isn’t it? And
they don’t have any business messing it here. It may come later but do they have moral persuasion to force the issue?”
“None.”
“But carrying out this mission needs
everybody’s help. That’s why the government has to levy taxes on its people.
“I agree though to the atheists commies
that we are living here and now that spiritual need may come later.”
“Exactly that’s why we have to abide the
laws of the land, respect and practice our basic rights not messing up with
these laws fomenting hatred, rebellion and sedition among the people.”
Taklin didn’t get exactly the point here
but just allowed the lesson of Capt. Estrada sunk into his subconscious.
“Sorry to have shared our cause this you
this early as it might pre-empt your study in the academy. But I hope it would
make sense to you and would be of little help putting you in proper
perspective. It’s one of the valid choice left to us excluding none.
It’s hard but once we are used to it, things fall into their proper
place all the way swiftly. So by the
time you would graduate, you would already know what to do.”
Confusion was seen in Taklin’s face but he just
kept his cool to solicit his mentor’s
ideas how foreign these might be to him.
“Seems you’re one of my sponsor,” he digressed
from the topic.
“I am precisely inviting you for dinner maybe
tonight or tomorrow for more hearty and meaty talk.”
“Very nice of you.”
“Not
really. It’s just part of our
brotherhood Joe and me and the rest shared
nurturing what is to be developed
among incoming members of the organization.”
“No man is an island.
He could not stand alone you know.
So when we could have the supper
at home I’d like sharing some more with you the organization and what we intend
to do. Oh if I could only tell you how
much I owe Mr. Mirang, you would probably learn that what I’m extending to you
is just practically peanuts. So how
about that. If you’re amenable, I’ll
just drop you a line later.”
“It’s a deal then. Okay,” Taklin readily
acknowledge.
“But of course, I’ll fetch you here. Don’t worry I have my wheels. I’ll take care also your first report to the
academy. Okay kid good luck.”
Taklin was astounded by the deal of the
Captain. But it was real. He read
himself his mentor’s wire. No doubt
about it. It was real. The captain was
already nowhere in his sight. Taklin
remained glued to his breakfast table wondering whatever happen to him – mind
feed more than what his stomach could manage.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
“
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