If you’re familiar with the Katipunan LRT station, you’ve probably passed by the tricycle terminal near there. You remember, the 24-hour convenience store at the corner, the little carinderias on the side and the fishball/ kwek-kwek/ toknene/ mani/ chicken innards cart vendors stationed about? Well, a little further down approaching the LRT, there’s a short sidewalk in front of a fenced lot that’s also been converted into a carinderia. Often seated on that sidewalk is a cigarette/candy vendor who sells refreshments in a styro cooler. Also seated along this sidewalk are two women, covered in what would be colorful cloth veils if they were washed, who often park themselves there to beg. Now you wouldn’t notice there were two of them, because they’re never together. I think they take shifts. On some days there’s the dark-haired one and on others there’s the older looking white-haired one.

            Did anyone know that these two old women are actually Igorots?

            I have a habit of giving alms whenever I can and (shamefully, disgustingly,) whenever it’s convenient and not embarrassing to do so. The other day after coming from the station, I saw one of the old women and thought that I should get her something to eat. I could. It was convenient. I probably wouldn’t have to embarrass myself doing so. It passed on all counts of my, well, “guidelines,” and so I did.

            I ended up talking to her. They say whenever you give something to a person on the street, you should always try to talk. You aren’t just giving this person food or money, ultimately what these people want is a piece of you. I asked her where she was from, and she couldn’t understand. The rest of the conversation was a lot of pointing and a few tagalog words I thought she might’ve picked up here. Pointing to herself, she said “Igorot.” She mentioned “Mountain Province” and was probably trying to talk to me in her native language. She was also going: “Aw, aw,” and nodding at the same time. After giving her the bread I had bought, she was somehow able to get this point across to me: she was asking for “kanin” because “tinapay” had something to do with “kape” and that it wasn’t time to eat bread yet. When I ran out of things to talk about (which was, to say, very shortly after the conversation began) she pointed up to a darkening sky and went, “ulan.” I guess she was trying to make me go home.

            The next day I thought of bringing her some rice. She seemed nice anyway, she was smiling the whole time we talked and I was driven by the fact that the woman I had been walking past to get to the LRT station all this time was an Igorot. When I got there, I met her milk-haired counterpart. We talked for a while too. Then she made me go away.

            Fascinating. Their story is one for the movies. How’d they get there? How were they able to manage all this time without being able to communicate properly? Where exactly are they from? How long have these Igorots, and there are probably more of them around, how long have they been right under our noses?

            You know, the family line of these two women have probably been in this land longer than any other line of anybody reading this blog. Not unless you have indigenous ancestors. And not unless nobody reads my blog (which, I could believe). By gum. This is Philippine Heritage right in our own backyard.

    ...And it's sad. Because our backyards aren't all that great.

    Does anybody know anyone who can speak in an Igorot's native language? Tag me. 

All my friends are in school and I’m not.

 

Yehey. :D

 "Hi guys! Just to make it official: as some of you might already know, I won a 2-year scholarship for school abroad and I’m definitely pushing through! I’m going to Pearson United World College of the Pacific in Victoria Island, Canada. If you guys have relatives, friends or anyone around that area you’d like to send stuff to, I’d be more than happy to make deliveries. No hassle talaga! It’ll also be helpful for me to meet other people when I get there! Departure is August 13, medyo matagal pa, and I’ll be back after my 1^st school year, sometime June 2007. SO…whether I knew you well or not, I’d like to say goodluck! and goodbye! to all those I won’t be seeing until I leave. Thanks for everything! AND…I shall return. Gagamitin at lolokohin ko lang muna ang mga dayuhang mapaniil."

I heard it on the radio one late afternoon in first year high school.

I was lying down on my bed slowly opening and closing my eyes facing windows that framed a brilliant orange sky and setting sun. I wasn't sleepy. It was just that making my eyelids shift back and forth made the light bend.

But I was frustrated. I remember having some sense of longing for something - something I was afraid I'd never have. It felt like there was a huge void in my life. Like there was a gap in my teeth, a hole in my sock. Or like I wasn't wearing any underwear. I felt so unsatisfied, so hopeless, so discontented, and lonely. I was desperate. I wanted something...

I think it was Cable TV. Or girls. Or both. (And maybe a glass of water, too. It was hot.)

I continued to sulk lying there in my blue and beige sweat-drenched uniform while the electric fan was stuck at number one. I was dead to the discomfort. The sweat. The bed. The fan. The room. At that time, I couldn't think of anything else that didn't quite resemble a problem.

Just then as the radio played on, a piercing, suave and smooth voice filled the room. That voice, that song I realized later on, would be so much a part of what I do where I am and who I am today:

Sleep all, we sleep all day.
Sleep all, we sleep all day, over.

I have absolutely no idea how that made things better the same way I can't explain how listening to it today still does, but it did. I felt alright. And I felt alive.

I was drawn to sit up straight and a sudden urge to follow the song overcame me. I was mouthing words and tailing the tune singing softer during verses and suddenly bursting out in the now-familiar chorus. I was running high on impulse and instinct. I was attempting to sing a song I had never ever heard in my life. I couldn't understand.

But doing it made so much sense to me.

Hence...sleepalldav.
Witty no? :D