New Suggested Museum Exhibits

 

Suggestions: New suggested exhibits to attract more visitors to the Bayambang Museum: Home of Innovation

 By Resty S. Odon

PIO, LGU-Bayambang

 

AGRICULTURE GALLERY

Artifact: Kungkong

Kungkong is an indigenous tool made of a bamboo stem that is fashioned like a percussion instrument to call the attention of residents in the community for various reasons. The kungkong is hit or shaken repeatedly and the resulting cacophony serves as a signal for residents to gather together to perform a communal task, for example, alsa abong (lipat bahay or literally the lifting of a hut from one place to another). It may also be used to alert the community during emergencies, as when a thief is caught or when it is time to flee from flood and other such emergency situations.

The kungkong is a communication tool that symbolizes unity within a community as well as the spirit of bayanihan or volunteerism in the olden days.

(A demo on how it is used would make the exhibit even more interesting.)

Artifact: An illustration of tagnawa

A traditional practice in town worth emulating today is called tagnawa, the local version of bayanihan. It was a practice predicated on the good nature of one's neighbors, and it translates to voluntary giving or offering of help when needed, be it in lifting an entire house to another location or lending a hand in planting or harvesting crops. 

The word has evolved such that the noun tagnawa has become a verb: tagnawaen, mantagnawa.

In the past, all the men in the neighborhood could be relied upon for communal house-moving (or anything communal) if the need arose. It was shameful to be an able-bodied male and not lend a hand, as when somebody's huge garong (an ark-like wooden rice silo of sorts) needed to be moved from one place in his yard to another. It was a spectacle to see how all the muscled men would engineer the whole project with their bare hands, without so much a reward as a light snack.

The bayanihan spirit is consistent in every ethnic group in the country, be it the tugpa, pintakasi, pasinaya, and atag practices of the Tagalogs, the cañao of the Cordillerans, etc.  We are a culture that apparently grew out of the bayanihan spirit, out of volunteerism in the service of building community and keeping the things that bind it. This harks back to the kinship-based nature of the precolonial social unit called barangay.

Artifact: An illustration of hospitality and neighborliness

Neighborliness is a practice that illustrates the porousness of the local culture, the generosity born of the purity of heart of one’s neighbors.

Up to the '70s, the bayanihan spirit could be commonly observed in many ways. For example, in a given barrio, a bomba or manually operated water pump owned by just one family could be accessed at any reasonable time of the day or night by anyone who knew how to knock on the door, granting the face showing up was among those trusted in the community.

The degree of openness is such that, during town fiestas, anyone who's a friend of a friend of a relative could join the feast uninvited without shame or embarrassment. There was no official "invited guests" list.

The family who owned the only TV in the neighborhood would proudly let his neighbors in (most likely from first-degree up to third-degree relatives anyway, if not next-door neighbor), even entire families that wanted to watch an afternoon TV show or even a series of TV shows.

Artifact: An illustration of panagturtor para’d tariwa tan libren panangan

Panagturtor para’d tariwa tan libren panangan is the tradition of foraging around for free food and freshly picked organic produce around the rural neighborhood. On any given day, one could freely ask for fronds of fresh malunggay (moringa) or ampalaya (bitter melon) shoots, for example, for the sautéed mung bean dish, or for leftover rice from lunch, must-have kitchen condiments such as garlic, or mangoes and other ripe fruits dangling in profusion in the yard. It is unthinkable, for instance, for a neighbor to harvest her fragrant jackfruit without sharing a slice, especially since everybody could smell how good it was.

Artifacts: The wealth of traditional fishing gears

A host of traditional fishing gears, especially those specific to the Mangabul area in Bayambang, have been listed by Agustin F. Umali in his book, "Guide to the Classification of Fishing Gear in the Philippines" (US Government Printing Office, January 1950). Now obscure and obsolete cultural artifacts, they nonetheless hold potential as sustainable and non-pollutive alternative fishing devices.

Article: A musing on local pottery by Resty S. Odon

 

CULTURE GALLERY

Artifact: Bongbong

The bongbong is a traditional bamboo New Year's Eve cannon that uses water and kalburo (calcium carbide) as explosive. It symbolizes the resourcefulness of local folks by using materials around them in multitudinous forms and for various purposes.

An actual large version may be used as a focal point around which CSFirst Green AID Inc.’s latest bamboo curio objects may be exhibited.

Artifact: Photo or illustration of panagcorona ritual juxtaposed with a modern-day birthday celebration of a 7-year-old child

Many local families spend a child's seven birthday in a way that is more lavish than usual because it is deeply rooted in the age-old panagcorona/panagkorona ritual. According to Dr. Perla S. Nelmida, “Since precolonial times, a child who reached the age of seven has been celebrated through a ritual called panagcorona (crowning) marking the child’s coming of age. The seven-year-old child is garbed in festive attire and is made to stand in the middle of the hall on a dais. Participants in this ceremony are the youthful celebrant, the parents, the godparents, and the invited guests. In the ceremony, the panagcorona song is sung, accompanied by clapping and hugging."

The panagcorona is similar to an indigenous Ilocano ritual called padapadakam and the Marinduque ritual called putungan, in that an act of crowning is the highlight of the ritual.

 

Artifact: Curious objects used in indigenous healing practices

Among other things, Bayambang is known as a town of ‘faith healers’ using indigenous modalities such as panaggulgol or panaggugol, panag-ilot, panagsuob, panag-gaton, panagtambal ed baltik, panagtawas, panatawag, panagbanos, panag-larak, etc., including herbal medicine through the use of bulo-bulong (leaves and herbs).

Backdrop: Julius K. Quiambao Medical and Wellness Center in Brgy. Ligue offering modern medicine complemented by alternative holistic medicine and psychiatric services.

 

Artifact: Illustration of the Beliefs and Practices Surrounding Death

As human beings, our fear of death is primal or instinctual. How much we go out of our way to deny, delay, or dispel it is proof of this. The fear is so morbid even though death is certain and inevitable, and that makes such a reaction amusing in the end. The local culture has a strikingly elaborate set of practices around grieving the dead and forestalling another death in the family.

The expressions of grief and the fear surrounding it can be seen in manifold ways. And the message is always, "Death is downright undesirable." In the face of the utter futility of pushing it as far back from our minds as possible, we are, in effect, saying that we were never meant for death.

Even though still overwhelmingly Catholic in religious affiliation, locals today are known to hold a variety of wake and funeral beliefs and practices that are not necessarily sanctioned by their avowed faith. These must persist for a compelling reason.

 

Artifact: Items Used in Traditional, Sustainable, Environment-Friendly Cleaning Practices

Cleanliness is viewed as next to godliness, that is why turning to traditional cleaning practices is second nature to locals. Unclean members are looked upon with contempt, as proven by many negative words associated with the unhygienic. The synonyms of dirty include literally dozens of words. Cleaning is therefore a routine act -- whether cleaning the body, the day-to-day objects used, the house, the farm and farm animals, or when a major occasion like the New Year is fast approaching. Panaglinis na agagamil na totoon daan refers to traditional cleaning practices of our ancestors using natural, non-pollutive agents, long before the availability of commercial cleansers or cleaning agents and cleaning tools: panaglinis na buwek gamit so dayami, panaglinis na laman gamit so igor tan 'tae', panagpesak gamit so tabig, panaglinis na ngipen gamit so ulnos na bayawas tan asin, panaglinis na pinanlutuan gamit so dapol tan buwer, panaglinis na datal gamit so gas tan kandila o epas na bulong na ponti, panag-gisigis gamit so oplas, etc.

 

Artifact: Daselan to illustrate the maddeningly complicated courtship and wedding practices

The daselan document may be displayed to remind visitors of Pangasinan’s complicated courtship and marriage customs, which are never a casual and private affair -- they unfailingly involve the entire household, clan or even neighborhood, as though to say that something very important is about to happen, as indeed it is. There is the indispensable consent of the elders or the parents particularly in almost all stages of the marriage ceremony. From the panagdamag, segep, and sangi, to salonson, dungo alay ngaran, down to the basay bansal, pagatin and further on to the marriage ceremony in church, and even up to the bansal or reception ceremony, members of both families usually have a say in them, and their consent is actively sought.

Artifact: A copy of aligando, possibly one of the world’s longest Christmas songs

Aligando is a Pangasinan oral tradition that has a near-epic length, thus it has to have an abbreviated version called galikin. It is “a 143-stanza song commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ, the visit of the Three Magi until the sojourn of the Holy Family to Egypt. Aligando is a corruption of the Spanish word aguinaldo, meaning gift. The manag-aligando or tradition-bearers would usually go house to house, from January 6, during the Feast of the Epiphany, to February 2, during the Feast of Purification. The song is, in a modern sense, like a “carolling,” but it has a deeper religious significance to the singers or tradition bearers as well as to the Pangasinenses. The song, which is sung in an hour or two, reflects the community’s good values. (Reference: Prof. Rosabella A. Mendez)

 

Artifact: Glossary of Pangasinan idioms

Our collection of Pangasinan idioms illustrates the kind of language Pangasinan is: rich, witty, poetic, deep, hilarious, precise, nuanced.

 

HISTORY GALLERY

Most Wanted Artifact:  a copy of La Independencia published in Bayambang

Most Wanted Artifact:  a copy of Aguinaldo's declaration of Bayambang as the 1st Philippine Republic's 5th capital

Artifact: Col. Edward Ramsey’s memoir surrounded by World War II personal effects

The book donated by Joey Ferrer and the military canteen and related WWII items collected by Ms. Gloria Valenzuela may be displayed to remind everyone that Bayambang became the headquarters of the USSAFE’s East-Central Luzon Guerrilla Army in the fight against the Japanese imperial army and in honor of the many lives lost and the great heroic sacrifice and courage shown by our people.

 

Artifact: Old anti-rabies vaccine to illustrate that the country’s first anti-rabies vaccine was administered here

According to the book, "Dogs in Philippine History" by Ian Alfonso, in July 17, 1910, Dr. Eugene Whitmore administered the first anti-rabies vaccine in the Philippines at Camp Gregg, Bayambang, Pangasinan.

 

HALL OF INNOVATORS

Artifact: An old bicycle and news clippings of Tour of Luzon

The object and accompanying articles remind visitors that Bayambang is the home of the father of Philippine cycling, Atty. Geruncio ‘Gerry’ Lacuesta.

 

Artifact: Arnis sticks

Arnis sticks remind the visitors of traditional martial arts and their practitioners, one of whom is a native son who made it big in the United States by establishing a reputation as a grandmaster and pioneering founder of martial arts school there.

Leovigildo 'Leo' Miguel Giron was an escrima master from Brgy. Hermoza, Bayambang who is recognized as a grandmaster by no less than the Hollywood martial arts instructor Dan Inosanto of Stockton, California who was among his proteges. He became a World War II veteran who founded the Bahala Na Martial Arts Association after the war. He would eventually be recognized as the "Father of Larga Mano in America."

 

Artifact: Sample comic strip "Dorot"

"Dorot" is a long-running comic strip published in the most popular tabloid in the Philippines in the 70s-90s, Balita. It is just one of the works by cartoonist Generoso 'Gene' Sendaydiego, a long-time resident who raised his own family in Bayambang.  

Synonyms for Speak

miti-miti - silently mouthing words to oneself, as though saying an oracion

mërë-mërë - whispering alone under one's breath, in annoyance or resentment, as though chewing one's own words

nguro-nguro - pointing with one's pursed lips? (guessing only)

nguro-nguro - murmuring with one's mouth a bit pursed in a low tone voice of annoyance or complaint

bëlë-bëlë - ama'y mansasalitan ag natatalusan ya nangkakanat so ibabaga to lapud takot to o wala'y sakit to'd utëk

dalamurom - sama'y tanul na boses na tutuo no bansag iran mandarasal o mansasalita lalo no wala ira'd enclosed building singa simbaan

Sources: Perfecto Beltran, Melchor Orpilla

***

Synonyms for Cry

mansibsibec - sobbing

mangkubibit - to make face as though on the verge of crying

mansibangot - pouting

Synonyms for Beautiful (Maganda)

Magana

Malimgas, Malinggas

Masimpit - more on the dainty, tidy-looking side

Anggales (vulgar?) - sexy

Paeng-paeng

Laeb-laeb

Bonek-bonek, Ponek-ponek - refers to shapely body

Masanting (used for things, not for ladies)

Napankaongan (vulgar: literally means "can raise piglets from her")

Sources: Joey Ferrer, Clarita F. Tagab

The Things I Learned in Grade School

(World Teachers’ Day post No. 3)

The Things I Learned in Grade School

Kinder

In kinder grade at Bayambang Central School, I had two teachers. The first one was Mrs. Iglesias, and the second one was Ms. Tamondong. I can no longer recall why the first one had to give up our class, with the second one assuming her place. But apart from making a new set of friends and acquaintances outside home, my biggest memory from kinder grade is drinking warm, diluted milk and weeping uncontrollably out of the blue, the minute I noticed that my sundo (guardian), Ate Lily, a much-older cousin of mine, was out of sight, for fear that she had gone home ahead of me and abandoned me.

I can just imagine how harassed my teachers must have felt with my bouts of separation anxiety. (Yes, as a child, I was already easily upset.)

I have to credit my first two teachers for teaching me the basics of reading and writing and arithmetic. Through classroom dynamics, I also learned to navigate the complex world of dealing with fellow kids, which must have been overwhelming for someone of my temperament.

Grade I

In Grade I, I had Ms. Fernandez as teacher. Having an “old maid” for a teacher must have surely been a puzzle to me, even at a young age. But I understood that she was the best Grade I teacher in her time, because she was the one entrusted with our class, which was then called “Special Class.”

I think Ms. Fernandez taught all the basic subjects by her lonesome. Aside from teaching us how to read using textbooks like “Henny Penny,” she must have taught us songs and mathematics lessons as well.

From her, I learned formalities like asking, “Ma’am, may I go out?” whenever I felt like I needed to go to the bathroom.

Under her tutelage, I won a lot of geeky wordplay contests outside school, such as a contest in which I had to figure out a word from a set of jumbled letters, and so on. I must have made her proud, apart from my parents.

I would learn eventually (just recently, in fact) that she was indeed a one-of-a-kind teacher as she was looked up to by her peers, even getting recognized on the national level.

With her excellent teaching skills, Ms. Fernandez taught me a love for learning and to strive for excellence.

Those school-wide competitions, by the way, came with certificates as proof of my winnings, and I brought home maybe at least six. I learned from my experience that I could excel in school and feel good about myself while rejoicing over my winnings. I learned how breathtakingly sweet, not to mention addictive, worldly success is.

Grade II

In Grade II, my teacher was Mrs. Mercedes de Leon, who happens to be the wife of the Principal at the time, Mr. Daniel de Leon. What I remember the most being under her was that we students were always told to bring this and that object for school, such as broom, scrub, or decorative plant, so we could clean the classroom together and contribute to its improvement.

She taught me what bayanihan means. The little that everyone pitches in, when taken together, can spell a huge difference.

On one occasion in school, the class had a song number in a school-wide program. My teacher brought her daughter along, to teach us how to sing “Yellow Bird” using her guitar. Our performance came complete with a moving paper bird placed up high on a cardboard banana tree, like the song said.

Grade III

In Grade III, my teacher was Mrs. Evangeline Logan Tagulao, an intelligent, tall half-black lady with the distinctive eyes like those of an Indian. This was because her father was a black American soldier.

This teacher was quite amazing because she had eidetic memory. She was fond of holding those math contests in which she flashed math-problem cards (“6X6=__”, and so on), and I can distinctly recall how she remembered the order of how the cards were flashed even after these were shuffled. Her mini-contests made me so nervous because she would ask two contenders to find out who answered faster. I was not particularly good at math, but I was a consistent first-honor student, so anyone matched to me was up against someone who had something to prove (or reputation to protect). My classmates Hernani and Dennis (who was my cousin) were certainly better at it, so I dreaded being exposed by being matched to them.

I consider this teacher one of my favorites up to this day. The reason is that she never shouted at anyone or got angry, her mild manner a refreshing exception among our grade school teachers. One time, I was asked in class to sing a Tagalog song against my will – it was the first time I had to sing in public and to sing a song that was overly melodramatic too, Rey Valera’s “Malayo Pa ang Umaga,” which I chose because it was being played on AM radio most of the time. Maybe in great embarrassment as I was painfully shy, or maybe I got carried away by the songwriter’s utterly depressive message, I broke into tears in the middle of a line. Everyone in class let out embarrassed giggles at the spectacle, but my teacher fought the urge to join in. I felt like she rescued me from total embarrassment. Somehow, with this little gesture, she taught me how to be protective of the underdog.

Grade IV

In Grade IV, my teacher was Mrs. Fanny Santiago Muñoz. Her face struck me as being that of a kind, humble, and knowledgeable woman, and she was indeed all three.

It was therefore distressing to see her classroom being broken into by burglars one day, damaging both school properties and personal belongings. She did not deserve that kind of incident, which apparently happened the night before. She immediately reported it to the principal, who had the room vacated by everyone for the rest of the day. But it was remarkable how Mrs. Muñoz took things so calmly.

She would display such an admirable control of emotions in other instances. With such modeling of behavior, she taught me grace under pressure, how to act in a dignified way instead of being hysterical at something that invited hysteria.

Grade V

In Grade V, my teacher was Mrs. Paz Mamaril Paez. Of all the teachers I had, she was the one who struck me as the strictest one and quite a scary figure too, with her big voice and all.

On the very first day of class, her stern bearing certainly intimidated me, as she asked the early birds like me to help her rearrange the chairs by showing how the work was to be done. Then like a military drill sergeant, she barked, “Move!” This prompted me and my fellow early birds to reposition the rest of the chairs the same exact way as she did, like the ever-docile, obedient creatures we were definitely not when at home.

She taught me that some women had such masculine qualities even though they were not necessarily lesbians.

I can’t forget this teacher for another reason: it was only in her advisory class that I finished Top 2 (I was always Top 1). I know the reason is totally a thing of vanity to me by now, but at the age of 11, it was everything, and finishing second was the end of the world. At home, my family immediately accused her of favoritism, favoring my number one rival, that is. My grandmother was especially livid, insinuating that maybe my teacher was best friends with my rival’s mother, who was her co-teacher. Now it’s entirely possible that Mrs. Paez was fair and that my performance that year was not as good as before. It could be that she was not impressed with me as much as she was with my classmate.

Anyway, I learned to eat humble pie with this particular teacher. Specifically, li'l old competitive me learned how appalling the taste of defeat was.

Grave VI

In Grade VI, our class adviser was Mrs. Ceferina Valerio Rosario. She was a markedly petulant lady with noticeably high intelligence as well.

My first impression of this teacher was not so good after she saw me for the first time acting all bashful around her. She smirked in my face and said I was like a shrinking violet, or more accurately, a snail curling up in my shell. (How she put it in the vernacular was particularly colorful: “Anto ra raya, singa ra bisukol ya selek-selek!”).

With that otherwise hurtful remark, she taught me not to be shy when there’s no reason to be shy.

Eventually I grew fond of her, as she grew fond of me after I proved myself in class and showed how capable I was of winning various academic competitions outside school.

We had been together with two other classmates and other teachers and traveled all over Pangasinan to attend inter-school and inter-district academic competitions. She became my mentor in mastering science lessons and memorizing factoids that were likely to be asked in those incredibly fierce competitive affairs. I won some of them, I lost some of them.

She must have thought that bringing home the bacon was bringing honor to her and the school as well, so she took good care of me like she was my second mother, always giving me advice outside of academics. I can’t quite forget her for the extra mile she took.

When I learned she got seriously ill upon retirement, I felt so bad I could not bring myself to see her at her sickbed at home. Was I ever so grateful for having such a caring mentor. She taught me that first impressions are not always lasting.

***

One other thing I distinctly remember around this time was how teachers felt sorry for themselves because of their meager compensation. Not a few of them resorted to selling stuff like Avon products, tocino, longganisa, and other products just to make both ends meet. But during that time, everyone else seemed as economically poor as they were. But young as I was, it made me question the wisdom of pay rates vis a vis the actual value of the teaching profession, particularly the act of shaping minds and forming characters.

***

Other Teachers

In grade school, there were the other teachers I had who were not classroom advisers but teachers teaching in their specialized fields. The most memorable ones were Ma’am Duds Taguiang Padua; Ma’am Clarita Ferrer Tagab; and Ma’am Leonila Junio, because of how well they taught in their respective subjects of specialty, Math and Science. The same is true with Ms. Anecita Gloria (English), Mrs. Brillante (English), and Ms. Honrado (Math), a Malacañang awardee, no less (or so I heard from her co-teachers).

There was Mrs. Bancolita, who taught us technical terms in Pilipino like katinig, patinig, pangatnig, and di tiyak.

My aunt Naty, Mrs. Natividad Odon Romero Agas, is quite unforgettable for all the songs she taught – Filipino folk songs, regional songs, English songs, hymns, chorale pieces… She taught us how to read notes, and how to mind certain basic things like key, pitch, tone, scale, rest, and stuff. Her love for music was simply infectious. I can still recall all of those songs, which effectively soundtracked my elementary years together with the pop hits of the day over radio and TV.

One time, there was a substitute teacher named Mrs. Basa, who proxied for some teacher who got sick or went on leave. I remember her teaching a number of old American songs such as “By the Light of the Silvery Moon.”

Mr. Rolando Gloria handled Math in Grade IV. With a heavy gait and serious mien, he was quite a strict teacher, one who didn’t tolerate disrespect.

Mr. Reyes handled Scouting single-handedly. He taught us boys to make various kinds of knots, among other wonderful things a young boy needed to know. His energy was quite remarkable, and his knowledge of scouting remarkable.

Mr. Lorenzo Bancolita taught Practical Arts where we learned so many useful things, like how to use a coping saw to fashion a drinking cup out of the dwarf (amamareng) variety of coconut shells, and so on. He was quite the disciplinarian.

Of the few male teachers I had, this one, who taught boys-only classes that combined several sections (that’s how I got to meet everyone in my batch), was the most notorious for being old-fashioned. He told us really funny jokes (meaning really gross and crass, as is inevitable in an all-male company), but when he punished us for an infraction, it really hurt.

One practicum session, he excused himself, saying he had to have a quick meeting with someone outside the room and that we should continue working on our assignment. When he got back, he caught many of us in flagrante delicto -- in the middle of bunong-braso (arm-wrestling). From the look on his face, we knew Sir Bancolita was incensed. I won’t bother with the details of how he dealt with our utter disregard for authority.

Now one of the funniest ever teachers I had were the sisters Sabina and Teonila Monterico. Ma’am Sabina taught Science, but what made her interesting was that she was kind of an oddball. Although she belonged to the conservative religious denomination of Iglesia ni Kristo, she was always dressed up to the nines. Her fashion sense – horn-rimmed eyeglasses, crimson lipstick, primary-color blouse, etc. – tended to rival that of a flamboyant gay man that it was impossible to miss her if you happened to be moving within her orbit.

I was kind of a social misfit myself, but she weirded me out with her antics together with her offbeat outfit, so there was a constant source of entertainment for all. It didn't help that she would interrupt her own discussion now and then and say, "Huwag niyong tignan ang mukha ko!" (as though she knew what we were thinking) and then declare to one and all that she was looking for Mr. Right or, in today's parlance, "single and ready to mingle."

Aside from basic science concepts, Ms. Sabina taught me a kind of courage I didn't know before, the one about not minding too much what other people think of you, that it is okay not to fit in as a round hole in a square peg.

Her sister Teonila taught Araling Panlipunan (Social Studies), and was also a sharp dresser but not as showy as the other one. What made her unforgettable is the way she conducted the recitation portion in her class. You see, she had this set of index cards on which our names were written, the cards containing one name each. In the middle of discussing the assigned reading from the previous day, she would often introduce a probing question by saying it aloud, but ending it with an ellipsis, like this: “Papaano….!?” (“How on earth…!?”).

After a considerable suspense was created, she kept everyone hanging by shuffling the darned cards at length, then picking one lucky winner at random. Then she announced the name aloud, and proceeded with the rest of the question. For example, “Papaano….” (shuffle, shuffle, then pick a name) … “Don de Leon, stand up!” “Papaano nadiskubre ang mga Tasaday?”

Ms. Monterico’s creative method was as utterly funny in retrospect, but no one dared laugh during those Q&A sessions. In those moments, you gasped for breath. If your name was finally picked, as surely it would be, you either had a panic attack or stood right up and risked not making a fool of yourself by answering direct to the point. If you failed, you got zero for recitation, the score duly noted down on her index card.

Her class was scheduled after lunch, the perfect time to catch a nap, but nobody ever got sleepy. Ms. Monterico taught me how unorthodox methods can get impossible things done.

***

All throughout my working years as an employee in various private companies, I was surprised by one thing: None of my prospective employers ever asked whether I finished elementary school with first honors, or seemed to care one bit about whether I graduated as the class valedictorian in some far-flung town in the boondocks. It kind of makes me think whether all my efforts were worth it or in vain. What they noticed out loud was the college education and the work experience.

This somehow validates the truism that, "It doesn't matter how you started, as much as how you ended up." Then again, as Jose Rizal said, "Hindi ka makakarating sa paroroonan, kung hindi ka lilingon sa pinanggalingan." Or as Lao Tse was quoted as saying, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step." Elementary school is the baby steps we need to take, or we won't be able to go very far.

No question about it – each teacher of mine made a deep impact in my life in ways I may not even be conscious of. Maybe that’s because they happened to be there just when I was still in that delicate stage of forming my own person. They were, each one of them, in a great position to inflict great damage and at the same time in the same position to serve as inspiration, but I am confident to say that my memories of them were 95% positive – how else could it be otherwise when I am now writing down a quick memoir that brings warmth to my heart instead of a confession of traumas that I’d rather deny to this day. Now as for that curious 5%, or is that even 5% or maybe 1%? Well… let me put it this way: It is something I’d rather not dwell on because nobody’s perfect.

And even if I recall the more upsetting bits and pieces that stick out the most, there was always a lesson or two to be gained, even lessons my teachers did not intend to teach.

That was what public school life was for me in a typical "Mababang Paaralan ng...". There were teachers that annoyed me for this and that reason. There were teachers that I feared or whom I found intimidating. There were teachers that made me laugh. There were teachers that I admired at once. There were teachers that I grew fond of in time.

But those recollections that I edited out are certainly the ones that bring the loudest, most tearful laughter among my contemporaries come reunion time.

Phenomenal: A High School Memoir

(This one is for both my classmates and teachers in high school.)

Phenomenal: A High School Memoir

My high school years in Pangasinan State University-College of Education Laboratory High School – that’s from 1983 to 1987 – are one of the happiest years of my life. Sometimes, I am surprised when I tell this to people and they say they can’t relate because high school to them means a lot of painful memories. I feel sorry for them.

First, let me qualify that when I say “happiest years,” it doesn’t mean those years were free from painful memories, because there certainly were such episodes. But the happy ones are a lot more predominant. Who was I to complain?

A Campus Conducive to Learning

I think the campus grounds played not a minor role in it. In PSU, there were visually appealing edifices, an abundance of different trees, and inviting open spaces everywhere you went.

Three buildings struck me as beautiful: the Main Building in front of the big expanse of green, the Elementary-Kindergarten Bldg. to its left, and the so-called RSDC or Science Bldg. at the farthest end.

The Main Building is a distinguished-looking neoclassical concrete and wooden affair from the Gabaldon period, with tall columns and graceful arches, wide steps, and large capiz windows. The grade school building is comparably humble in proportion but nonetheless as dignified-looking. In front of it is a neat line of more than a century-old acacia trees that provided much-needed shade. The Science Bldg. is squat and square modern structure, with a surprise of an indoor garden with lotus ponds on both sides.

Around the spacious campus grounds, I could spot a variety of rainforest trees I wasn’t familiar with but whose beauty I found equally eye-catching. From one of the classrooms, I noticed thickets where some mysterious white-spotted black birds in the understory dwelled (could be a shama species). Why sulk at all amidst these alluring sights?

The High School Bldg. per se, located at the back where most of our classes were held, is not among the structures that visually inspire, but it is a serviceable, no-frills two-story building. The same can be said of the Aldana Gymnasium, Library, and other buildings that look more on the functional than aesthetic side.

The architecture of the oldest structures and the layout of the university in general are obviously an adaptation from American sensibilities. It is a thoughtful design, most suitable for young minds thirsting for illumination -- not bad at all, compared with the best in the country, namely the expansive green campuses of UP Diliman, Ateneo, La Salle, UST, etc.

My Classmates

For someone who didn’t fit the popular stereotype of a jock or varsity player, a poor student like me from the wrong side of town was a strong candidate for bullying of all sorts – we all know how children can be the meanest of creatures. It didn’t help that most of my classmates were the children of the most prominent families in our town of Bayambang, Pangasinan. For someone who was a definition of the annoying, bookish type called nerd or geek, I am thankful to have largely escaped such a cruel fate, except maybe for name-callings behind my back, which I half-expected.

The others, I must admit, were not so lucky because they were re-baptized with a pangaran (Pangasinan term for a nickname meant to be a putdown), replacing the Christian names on their birth certificates. For example, a particularly dark-complexioned girl was called “Black Beans” every time. But the victims didn’t seem to mind those admittedly funny labels at all, at least for the most part.

Instead, one of the strongest suits of our batch is how much we enjoyed each other’s company each and every day. After all, almost everyone had a funny nickname which were often told to their faces like it was the norm. Bullying was not yet a familiar word at the time. If you were bullied, you didn’t show weakness by getting intimidated one bit, you get back at your tormentors in creative ways. In that way, you evened out the scores.

There never was a dull moment in school. In fact, I was inspired to keep a diary of our happenings. (Too bad I was forced to burn it for a personal reason, which is just as well. I don’t like the idea of someday implicating real people who had figured in highly confidential accounts of youthful inanities.)

It’s particularly amusing how the American TV shows and movies we’ve all watched the night before on TV (“McGyver,” etc.) would be the hot topic the next day, with such an animated exchange of notes. One of our teachers remarked, her head shaking in disbelief, “Pare-pareho niyo namang napanood, pinagkukuwenuhan niyo pa ng walang-tigil!” Or words to that effect.

Being high schoolers who didn’t know any better, of course the daily scene was no different from the local TV show “Iskul Bukol.” I mean, not a day would pass that we didn’t do a naughty thing or two either as individuals or as a class.

High school meant the ever-present folly and frivolity of all kinds, as expected of youth with rampaging hormones – puppy love, actual pairings, jealousies, love triangles, lovers’ quarrels or LQ, and there were the silent academic rivalries, the flagrant cheating during exams – name it, we certainly went through it all.

Despite my painfully shy self, I managed to be Mr. Nice Guy, on friendly terms with just about everyone. Even though I gravitated towards social outcasts like, say, Joel Macam (lanky), Jonathan Duldulao (small stature), Rodel Tomas (on the stout side), et al., I could hold a decent conversation with everyone, and I genuinely liked them all in various degrees just because they were my batch-mates at PSU Lab HS.

From PSU Laboratory Elementary School, there was, among the girls, the shapely and very intimidating Estela Marie ‘Jona’ Elegado, their class valedictorian and whose family was from Manaoag town. The half-Caucasian and tomboyish Jennifer ‘Jen’/’Jenny’ Pacia. The skinny Frances Duque, who was nicknamed ‘Dukyang,’ the term for a local clam. The very girlish Ana Ria Alarin from faraway Amanperez. The sardonically comical and self-assured Mira Jimenez. The outspoken and oftentimes blunt Blesilda ‘Bidang’ Padua. The cute and sweet Menchu Soriano, often called Chu-chu-men. The comely Ivy Marie Lim. The shy and withdrawn Melanie Navarette. Among the boys, there was the gentlemanly Feliciano ‘Badz’ Casingal III, he who walked with a prince-like bearing but was sometimes called Besngaw, which referred to his nostrils, which flared a bit. The obviously clever Jonathan Duldulao, sometimes referred to as Badul. The well-chiseled and talented Francis ‘Sit’ Untalan. The reticent, ‘silent type’ Edward Lopez, a.k.a. ‘Dove’ or ‘Bulik,’ so-named because of his freckled skin. The naughty Jimmy ‘Jim’ Quinto. The aloof Lauro ‘Larry’ a.k.a. 'Large White' Poquiz. The playful Joseph Nagal. The fair-skinned Rodelio Galsim. And the sporty and musically inclined Rodel Tomas, who was constantly tormented for being a little bit chubbier than most.

Soon Jimmy Quinto would decide to enter the seminary -- a big surprise to all, as Jimmy was always the playful tease -- and Joseph Nagal transferred to Agno National High School, so their slots were replaced with two other transferees. There was the fun-loving Allen Contreras, often called Taweng, from Allen-taweng, meaning crazy, and the one-of-a-kind, hilarious, and flamboyant Chito Escaño, he with the appallingly wicked humor, also both from PSU Elem-KD Lab. (Being from another school, I wasn’t privy to the history behind those nicknames, so don’t ask me.)

From Bayambang Central School, there was, apart from myself, the man of a few words Arthur ‘Art’ Torres. The humble, unassuming Joel Macam. The late bloomer Benjoe Agbuya. The mischievous Melvin Garay. The wise and sensible Waldy Ferrer. The quiet and cautious Raquel Velasquez. The noisy Angelina ‘Helen’ Pacquing. The mysterious and of writerly temperament Jocelyn Inacay. The light-hearted Mina Rita Rosario. And the sensitive Mariza Flor Mata.

From Pugo Catholic School, Pugo, La Union, there was the diminutive Ma. Salome Guevarra.

From St. John Institute in Bautista, there was the bright colegiala killer/campus heartthrob Guillermo ‘Joy’/’Choy’ Te, their class valedictorian. The low-profile and ramrod straight Cesar Bactad. The equally bright Isagani Aguilar. The ever-impish rascal Erwin Ted Reginaldo, who, because of his dark skin tone, was sometimes called Bugkalot by those much too comfortable with him. The clean-cut Ephraim ‘Paeng’ Parayno. And the well-mannered Myra Flor Castro.

From Nalsian Elementary School came the math wizard Edthen Espiritu, their own valedictorian. The muscular Don Rexton Gloria. And the inhibited Dennis ‘Dencio’ Salopagio.

From San Carlos City, there was the wide-eyed Margarita ‘Margot’ Reyes, and from Basista town, there was the seemingly simple Marivic ‘Mavic’ Mendoza, also called ‘Baliw’ because on the first day of our class, riding a motorbike (an unusual thing for a young girl at the time), she bravely performed a hysterical monologue entitled, “Baliw”, whose first lines were, “Baliw? Baliw? Ako nga ba’y isang baliw?” She had our jaws dropping to the ground, as we didn’t quite know what to do with her extremely bold performance.

By graduation time, we were 21 boys and 20 girls all in all. As an old Beatles song put it, “I loved them all.” I am friends with all of these people up to this time, even though I haven’t spoken to a number of them in a long time.

I am particularly grateful for these friends in high school because they were a part of many treasured memories in the most delicate years of life, at the cusp of youth and young adulthood, so the imprint they have left must have been deep and intense. In the ups and downs of life, we have always been there for one another, even when, now and then, there were some little differences between this and that classmate.

We showed such a strong sense of camaraderie, even developed a deep bond of friendship, which was a remarkable phenomenon considering that we all came from schools that viewed other schools in town as fierce rivals. I am speaking now from my own personal perspective, but I believe it is for this reason that we called our batch ’D Phenomenals. In our experience of secondary education, ironically in a secular school at that but administered by highly religious educators, it was like we experienced God’s love unexpectedly through one another as “brothers and sisters from another mother," our alma mater.

It was therefore especially a sad day when we lost four of our batch-mates one by one, for various reasons and at various times: Edward to a stray bullet in Manila, and Joel, Cesar, and Chito to disease. Each time, it was always like losing a family member.

My Esteemed Mentors

Another thing I will find impossible to begrudge is the kind of teachers I had in high school. One day, I was burning some dusty old stuff at home when I saw this bunch of mimeographed papers the color of ash. They turned out to be old exam papers from PSU Lab infested with mold, mildew, and silverfish. I had to discard all of them, save for one copy that I decided to keep as a cherished memento.

While I was dumping the rest into the garbage bin, I got flooded with memories and feelings of all kinds, as I suddenly got reminded of the kind of teachers I was fortunate to have.

In no particular order, there was, of course, Ms. Cristeta Dulos – whom my class fondly called “Ma’am Tets,” a kayumanggi beauty and brains. (She was among the Latin honorees in her batch in PSU-CEd which included the magna cum laude Sir Eduardo Doyaoen, who was also impressively smart.) Ma’am Tets was not just our teacher in Social Studies and World History, but she was also our class adviser, so definitely my classmates and I have a lot of stories with her that get told and retold during reunions.

I can’t explain what personal qualities she possessed that she was able to tame a highly intimidating (because extremely unruly) batch like ours, with “pasaway” students like Chito, Jennifer, Erwin, et al. I think it’s her unusual combination of smarts that worked for her, including a horse sense of what approach would work best among our particularly difficult bunch. In Tagalog, nakuha niya ang kiliti namin.

A young Ms. Maricel Gomez, a fresh grad from UP Baguio, was actually our first class adviser, but early on in her assignment, she went ballistic when she found our class too uncontrollable. I think she resigned because of it (or not).

Prof. Fe Macaraeg taught us Filipino. She was a very prayerful woman who didn’t hesitate to say what was on her mind. There was a time we would trade barbs on the school’s freedom wall, and it entertained us no end that she was what they call now as patola or patolera (she would respond to juvenile tomfoolery that should otherwise be beneath her dignity as a teacher), quoting Shakespeare and all.

Dr. Regina ‘Regie’ Rosales also taught us Filipino. We often bullied her because we found her funny in many ways, but we learned a lot of native literary terms from her, from duplo to komedya to moro-moro.

Fresh grads Ms. Elizabeth Iglesias (another UP Baguio alumna) taught Biology, while Ms. Ma. Vilma Ungos (also from UP Baguio) taught Physics. It was hard to imagine how such young ladies could be so beauteous and brainy at the same time, but I learned that it was possible – a proof, I held, that God was not always fair.

Ms. Bessie Ramos taught Math. This one is a genius, I swear, based on much she knew her stuff and the way she taught it. With her, Math became enjoyable because she made the world of numbers seem like magic.

Dr. Porfirio Basilio taught us General Science. A tall, dark, and serious-looking man, he taught us the basics, but I can no longer recall what those are, ha-ha.

The mild-mannered Ms. Wilma Muena (now de Vera) taught Chemistry. Funny but I can’t forget it when she suddenly asked what Pb for lead, Au for gold, Hg for mercury, and Na for sodium literally stand for, and of course li’l old studious me rattled off the Latin answers unexpectedly like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do: plumbum, aurum, hydrargyrum, and natrium. I felt quite embarrassed that I knew such unexpected things, and I am pretty sure I came off as being an annoying “TH” or trying hard (to impress, that is) among my peers, but I guess the thrill of knowing something arcane that most others didn’t know prevailed in me. (I mean, what fool would read footnotes in high school textbooks?)

Prof. Caridad Junio taught Practical Arts, meaning, practical knowledge in agricultural matters, including vegetable gardening and hog and chicken raising.

Prof. Marina Padilla (RIP) taught us Social Studies and Philippine History. She had this mannerism or tic with her face that made her prone to students who loved to make fun of it, so of course, she constantly fell victim to it behind her back, even though she carried herself with such gravitas.

Prof. Rufino Menor (RIP) taught Music. He trained us to sing as a choral group, and I found myself being grouped with the tenors. Surrounded by all sorts of musical instruments, from bandurrias to water-filled glass bottles to bamboo angklungs, the man impressed me with his passion for music, which carried over to his blue jeans. Instead of say, the familiar Levi’s brand, his jeans carried the G-clef on his back pocket.

Prof. Felipe Tomas also taught Music. One of the more low-profile personalities on campus, his passion for music is equally notable, in fact spilling over to his sons Ronaldo and Rodel who knew how to play trumpets and other musical instruments.

Prof. Proserfina Zaragoza (RIP) taught Science, but she got ill in the middle of a semester and never got back. I think she was replaced by Dr. Porfirio Basilio, a tall, dark man who had a humble but dignified demeanor.

Ms. Gladys Tan (from UP Los Baños) taught us English. This teacher really knew her subject! She taught us a lot of things we’ve never heard before like “Beowulf,” “Song of Roland,” "Nibelungenlied,” “Canterbury Tales,” and don’t get me started on grammar and mechanics. As a writer today, I would say that she single-handedly made the biggest impact on me. Despite myself, however, those lessons on sentence structure deconstruction were the ones I liked the least, with all those S-V-O, S-V-IO-O and so on, because they looked like mathematical equations.

Prof. Erlinda Cuchapin taught Geometry and Basic Algebra. Boy, was she good, but very strict! You didn’t fool around in her class. As proof of her skill, she made me love algebra when I hated math with a passion.

Prof. Lita Saygo taught Advanced Algebra. She was more relaxed than most, but it is a testament to her brilliance that I would fall in love with such esoteric things like sine, cosine, tangent, cotangent, and whatnot against all expectations.

Prof. Jameson Bala handled Trigonometry. He was another teacher we often made fun of just because of his surname. I am not sure what I learned here, but I remember drawing lots of y axes and x axes and a tortured feeling that I wasn't as intelligent as I was told to be. What a humbling feeling to be in his class.

Prof. Azucena Elegado taught PE. "I am kindhearted," she once said by way of introduction, "but I am a tiger when I get angry," scaring the heck out of us all.

Mrs. Silva taught PE. She was fond of saying, “As you were!” She struck a firm presence, the kind of woman that you didn’t dare cross, or else...

Prof. Perez taught Home Economics. I can’t forget the many different dishes we prepared in her cooking class, and her and her chum Mrs. Milan’s feedback made us nervous because they were razor-sharp observations on our failings. “The cucumber is “malamuyak (slimy),” “this ingredient is not cold enough,” “this kangkong is not crunchy as it should be," and so on.

Prof. Myrna Miguel taught Health, including basic sex education -- you know, the birds and the bees. I don't think we ended up being promiscuous because of those lessons, so maybe the delicate topic was handled properly.

Prof. Bernardo Jimenez taught us Citizen’s Army Training. It involved lots of tiring drills under the sun, with him barking loud orders under threats of punishments like push-ups.

Prof. Magsanoc taught Practical Arts. In his class, I remember encountering terms like certain breeds of chicken and goat and indigenous raw materials for weaving (nito, pandan, etc.) and names of weaves (chevron, etc.).

Prof. Cuaresma also taught Practical Arts. From him, I learned a lot of things like mortise and tenon, electrical splices, and so on. He was particularly good in woodworking. He was an original DIY guy. I was impressed with how he was able to produce elegant tables and chairs out of wood.

We had a teacher with the highly unusual name of Ms. Febe Namnama Bose (“namnama” means hope in Ilocano, she explained). She was a wisp of a young woman, like she couldn’t hurt a fly. She taught us Music, but she was suddenly gone before we got to know her better. It turns out that she transferred to Narvacan High School in faraway Ilocos.

Prof. Ben O. Romero (RIP) taught Pilipino and served as our adviser in the school organ, "Banyuhay," which he founded, the title a portmanteau for "bagong anyo ng buhay."

Our Principals were Prof. Benigno Castro (RIP), Dr. Pio Oineza (RIP), Dr. Loria, and Mrs. Perez. Dr. Loria made quite an impression on me, as she was particularly a learned lady (she taught English) and she brought with her an interesting collection displayed in a cabinet case, that of different kinds of rock (igneous, metamorphic, sedimentary) and other curiosities.

The College Dean at the time, the bespectacled, authoritative-looking Dean Trinidad Montero, is now a nun in America.

It must be noted that our teachers served concurrently as college professors. It is called Laboratory School because it exists as a classroom laboratory for the College of Education’s student-teachers. Yes, we Laboratorians were like lab rats or petri dish for the purpose of teacher education, and this means that, on top of our licensed teachers, we had so many classes presided by the yearly batches of student-teachers of PSU. This means there were hundreds and hundreds of student-teachers who experimented on us through our four years of stay. But the special arrangement of being under college professors when we were just studying in high school didn’t escape us.

As fate would have it, I would study in UP Baguio for college, the same school as a number of my teachers had gone to. In UP Baguio, what I immediately noticed is that I might have college profs with masterals and PhDs, but most of them couldn't hold a candle to my high school teachers when it came to teaching because they didn't take up any Methods of Teaching. That's how I know I was quite lucky to have the kind of high school teachers I had and it was such an honor to be under their tutelage.

Come to think of it -- maybe I wouldn't have been able to pass a DOST scholarship exam and get a college education for free, were it not for the strong fundamentals that my teachers gave me, especially in the fields of English, science, and math.

Whatever resentment I harbored in my heart, or whatever perceived inadequacy I had from my experience, it easily melts away in the face of the many good things I got. Therefore, more than being a proud alumnus of the school, I am eternally grateful for having walked down its halls and through its portals, having laughed so heartily (for various reasons) that the sound of mirth reached the rafters, and having lived my young carefree life with so much fond memories worth recalling over and over.

New Old Pangasinan Words

sekder - sandigan

pinabli - beloved

aliguas - pag-usbong?

piogagep - yearning?

lugay - salute?

luyag - place

peteg (ta kan yaman) - ?

pasimbalo - rebirth?

panamabli - pagpapahalaga?

panangampupo - pag-aruga?

ikinon - ipagmalaki?

nimatalek - ipagmalaki?

niutel (ed liknaan) - nakakintal?; etched?

ag naamperan - di mapigilan?

iyagel - protect?

sibegan - kaawaan

abagyen - ?

naurit (may ogaw) - in a bad mood?

agto insingan-singan - hindi binigyang pansin?

mansigsigam - hinahabol ang hininga?; catching one's breath?

adayakdak - nakakalat?

mabonigas - progresibo? bright as in future?

ataldes - apasnukan, napagalitan ng todo?

meeng - used to describe a person who can't seem to articulate himself and thus seems mute and dumb

marimolon - marason

anggapo'y maumli - walang makalalamang; e.g. 1. Siac lay man-apag na tinapay, pian anggapo'y maumli. 2. Mankimey ka met pian anggapo'y maumli.

Pangasinan Synonyms for "Eat"

Pangasinan Synonyms for "Eat" are Too Plenty to Ignore

(New linguistic evidence shows Pangasinan is indeed a gustatory powerhouse.)

In the Pangasinan folk song, "No Siak so Mangaro," the closing stanza goes this way:

No kumon agi ta
Limon kan kakanen
Iyan ta kad nguroy dilak
Ya pantulin-tulinen
Ag ta ka gatgaten
Ag ta ka akmunen
Iyan ta kad nguroy dilak
Ya amamayuen

Translated, it means: "If only, dear, you were a lemon, I will put you at the tip of my tongue and roll you there again and again. I won't chew you, I won't swallow you, I will just place you at the tip of my tongue, there to be leisurely savored."

From this song alone lies the proof that Pangasinenses have a peculiar way with their mouth and their tongue, and particularly with their mouthfeel.

In fact, the number of synonyms for the word "eat" bears this out, as they are particularly numerous.

Pangasinan Synonyms for Eat

akan - eat

mangan - to eat

kanen - eat

tawayan - taste or sample

akmon, atmon - swallow

bikler - swallow forcefully

gatgat - chew

kutib - gnaw

ngalngal - to chew forcefully

kabkab - to bite in big chunks

kutlab - to make a big bite

kusab - same as kutlab?

ketket - bite

supsop - sip forcefully

ketleb - to bite in little pieces

sibasib - to sip and swallow forcefully?

nutnot - to suck at something for its fluid, as in a baby sucking at its mother's breast or its thumb

itamukal - to stuff in one's mouth whole

dildil/dildilan - to lick; cf. Ilocano dilpatan - to slide one's tongue on something very quickly

tangek - tungga? (ng tubig)

inom - drink

ikamot, isubo - to put in one's mouth

dilamot, silamot - to lick continuously with relish

ilop - higop; sip?

langgop - higop; sip

ngatingat - to munch on something or to eat constantly

supsop - to suck at something forcefully as in a snail

buag - eat (vulgar usage?)

mulmol - to keep inside one's mouth, as in a candy, leisurely sucking at it ever so slightly

ngatngat - gnaw

uus, us-os - refers to how to consume sugarcane sticks

ngasab - to bite a large piece

timtim, timtiman - to taste a tiny portion of food

anan - papain (Tagalog); to eat a dish or viand without the usual accompaniment of rice

baknot - to bite forcefully as to peel something? Example: "Baknot mo tay ubak odino baog."

ikamumos - to stuff in one's mouth like there's no tomorrow

ngasngas - used when you eat tulapo or sitsaron: with much sound

ngutngot - used when you eat fibrous food with some parts hard or inedible, as in to suck a mango seed or beef bone clean

manbuwaboy sungot ton lanang - matakaw

kutim-kutimën - to nibble

The foregoing is consistent with the particularly numerous terms for taste and smell in the Pangasinan language.

Based on these pieces of verbal evidence alone, Pangasinan is the gustatory center of Philippine cuisine.

Glossary contributors: Resty S. Odon, Melchor Orpilla, Efren Abulencia, Virginia Jasmin Pasalo, Arabela Ventenilla Arcinue, Joseph Anthony Quinto, Jona Marie Camagay-Calima, Isidora Francisco Axell, Jojie Yden Torrado