46
LIT 10
MIDTERM COVERAGE
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Week
Page
Module 4 Mindanao Literature in English
Lesson 1: Mindanao Short Stories
Lesson 2: Mindanao Epics and Ballads
2 weeks
2 weeks
48-70
71-78
1 week
79-84
1 week
85 - 91
Module 5 Mindanao Literary Poems
Lesson 1: Mindanao Local Poems
Module 6 Contemporary Literature of the Philippines
Lesson 1: Film Production about Mindanao
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Module No. and Title
Module 4: Mindanao Literature in English
Lesson No. and Title
Lesson 1: Mindanao Short Stories
Learning Outcomes
At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:
•
•
•
Time Frame
study kinship of people of Mindanao through short
stories;
identify the values acquired from the readings through
getting its moral; and
determine the best practices from the readings that can
be applied in real-life situations.
2 weeks
Welcome to the first lesson of Module 4, entitled “Mindanao Literature in
English”. In this lesson, you will be able to trace the lifestyle and values of people in
Mindanao as reflected in the stories through different activities prepared for you.
#1 Read the story below. Choose a character in the story aside from the narrator and
retell the story in the perspective of your chosen character. Use the first-person point of
view in retelling the story. Do not change the important events but you can be creative
in the perspective of your character. Elaborate the story in new ways based on
personality of this new narrator.
For example, you chose rooster. Retell the story as if you are the rooster.
The Maguindanao Tale of the Faithful Wife
(1) Once there lived in the Sultanate of Bandiamasir an aged man who had an only son.
They lived comfortably together until the time came for the boy to marry. He loved a
girl from the same town but before he could make any arrangements, his father fell ill
and was soon near death. He called his son to him and said “My son, never marry
a balo (widow) but a raga (young lady).”
(2) After his father died, the son made up his mind to find the meaning of his father’s
advice and forthwith married a raga. But he married two other women as well:
a balo and bituanem (divorce). As all three lived harmoniously together he kept
puzzling over the advice left to him by his father.
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(3) One day a new Sultan ascended the throne as the old one had died. This new Sultan
turned loose his magnificent rooster and then proclaimed that whoever touched it would
be killed.
(4) When the son heard of this decree, he was very glad because now he had a way of
testing his father’s advice. He caught the royal rooster and brought it home. Then he
called his three wives, showed them the rooster and said: “Kill the rooster and cook it
for my dinner.”
(5) The three women turned pale when they realized the meaning of what he said.
The balo and the bituanem immediately refused and hurriedly left the house, not
wanting to be implicated in the crime.
(6) The raga took the rooster, killed it and served it to her husband.
(7) Then he knew what his father meant by his dying words. Only the raga could be
faithful.
My own version of The Maguindanao Tale of the Faithful Wife
In the perspective of: _______________ (fill out the name of your chosen
character).
#2 Based from the story, what can you say about the bond between husband and wife?
Is it observable in reality?
_____________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________________
_____________________________________________________________
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#3 Share your “kwentong sari-sari store”.
Sari-sari store is the first hand witness of the life of the people in the locality and the
great partner in the changing culture of Filipino people.
©2001 by Copper Sturgeon
Read between the lines. Analyze each statement and extract a character trait that the
speaker possesses. Share whether such character trait is still observable in the modern
days and how it affects people in reality. Answer in no more than 4 sentences.
1. “What do you expect,” replied his mother; “the father is a Bagobo. Even
Tinang looks like a Bagobo now.”
2. “There!” the Señora said. “Didn’t I tell you what it would be like, huh? . . . that
you would be a slave to your husband and that you would work a baby eternally
strapped to you.
3. Tinay, I could not return because I found that my mother was very ill. That is
why I was not able to take you as a partner of life. Please respond to my missive
at once so that I know whether you still love me or not. I hope you did not love
anybody except myself. – Amado
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LOVE IN THE CORNHUSKS by Aida L. Rivera
Tinang stopped before the Señora’s gate
and adjusted the baby’s cap. The dogs that
came to bark at the gate were strange dogs,
big-mouthed animals with a sense of
superiority. They stuck their heads through
the hogfence, lolling their tongues and
straining. Suddenly, from the gumamela
row, a little black mongrel emerged and
slithered through the fence with ease. It
came to her, head down and body
quivering.
“Bantay. Ay, Bantay!” she exclaimed as the
little dog laid its paws upon her shirt to sniff
the baby on her arm. The baby was afraid
and cried. The big animals barked with
displeasure.
Tito, the young master, had seen her and
was calling to his mother. “Ma, it’s Tinang.
Ma, Ma, it’s Tinang.” He came running
down to open the gate.
“Aba, you are so tall now, Tito.”
He smiled his girl’s smile as he stood by,
warding the dogs off. Tinang passed
quickly up the veranda stairs lined with
ferns and many-colored bougainville. On
landing, she paused to wipe her shoes
carefully. About her, the Señora’s white
and lavender butterfly orchids fluttered
delicately in the sunshine. She noticed
though that the purple waling-waling that
had once been her task to shade from the
hot sun with banana leaves and to water
with mixture of charcoal and eggs and
water was not in bloom.
“Is no one covering the walingwaling now?” Tinang asked. “It will die.”
“Oh, the maid will come to cover the
orchids later.”
The Señora called from inside. “Tinang, let
me see your baby. Is it a boy?”
“Yes, Ma,” Tito shouted from downstairs.
“And the ears are huge!”
“What do you expect,” replied his mother;
“the father is a Bagobo. Even Tinang looks
like a Bagobo now.”
Tinang laughed and felt warmness for her
former mistress and the boy Tito. She sat
self-consciously on the black narra sofa, for
the first time a visitor. Her eyes clouded.
The sight of the Señora’s flaccidly plump
figure, swathed in a loose waist-less
housedress that came down to her ankles,
and the faint scent of agua de
colonia blended with kitchen spice, seemed
to her the essence of the comfortable world,
and she sighed thinking of the long walk
home through the mud, the baby’s legs
straddled to her waist, and Inggo, her
husband, waiting for her, his body stinking
of tuba and sweat, squatting on the floor,
clad only in his foul undergarments.
“Ano, Tinang, is it not a good thing to be
married?” the Señora asked, pitying Tinang
because her dress gave way at the placket
and pressed at her swollen breasts. It was,
as a matter of fact, a dress she had given
Tinang a long time ago.
“It is hard, Señora, very hard. Better that I
were working here again.”
“There!” the Señora said. “Didn’t I tell you
what it would be like, huh? . . . that you
would be a slave to your husband and that
51
you would work a baby eternally strapped
to you. Are you not pregnant again?”
Tinang squirmed at the Señora’s directness
but admitted she was.
“Hala! You will have a dozen before long.”
The Señora got up. “Come, I will give you
some dresses and an old blanket that you
can cut into things for the baby.”
They went into a cluttered room which
looked like a huge closet and as the Señora
sorted out some clothes, Tinang asked,
“How is Señor?”
“Ay, he is always losing his temper over the
tractor drivers. It is not the way it was when
Amado was here. You remember what a
good driver he was. The tractors were
always kept in working condition. But now
. . . I wonder why he left all of a sudden. He
said he would be gone for only two days . .
. .”
“I don’t know,” Tinang said. The baby
began to cry. Tinang shushed him with
irritation.
“Oy, Tinang, come to the kitchen; your
Bagobito is hungry.”
For the next hour, Tinang sat in the kitchen
with an odd feeling; she watched the girl
who was now in possession of the kitchen
work around with a handkerchief clutched I
one hand. She had lipstick on too, Tinang
noted. the girl looked at her briefly but did
not smile. She set down a can of evaporated
milk for the baby and served her coffee and
cake. The Señora drank coffee with her and
lectured about keeping the baby’s stomach
bound and training it to stay by itself so she
could work. Finally, Tinang brought up,
haltingly, with phrases like “if it will not
offend you” and “if you are not too busy”
the purpose of her visit–which was to ask
Señora to be a madrina in baptism. The
Señora readily assented and said she would
provide the baptismal clothes and the fee
for the priest. It was time to go.
“When are you coming again, Tinang?” the
Señore asked as Tinang got the baby ready.
“Don’t forget the bundle of clothes and . . .
oh, Tinang, you better stop by the
drugstore. They asked me once whether
you were still with us. You have a letter
there and I was going to open it to see if
there was bad news but I thought you would
be coming.”
A letter! Tinang’s heart beat violently.
Somebody is dead; I know somebody is
dead, she thought. She crossed herself and
after thanking the Señora profusely, she
hurried down. The dogs came forward and
Tito had to restrain them. “Bring me some
young corn next time, Tinang,” he called
after her.
Tinang waited a while at the drugstore
which was also the post office of the barrio.
Finally, the man turned to her: “Mrs., do
you want medicine for your baby or for
yourself?”
“No, I came for my letter. I was told I have
a letter.”
“And what is your name, Mrs.?” He
drawled.
“Constantina Tirol.”
The man pulled a box and slowly went
through the pile of envelopes most of which
were scribbled in pencil, “Tirol, Tirol,
Tirol. . . .” He finally pulled out a letter and
handed it to her. She stared at the unfamiliar
scrawl. It was not from her sister and she
could think of no one else who could write
to her.
Santa
Maria, she
thought;
maybe
something has happened to my sister.
“Do you want me to read it for you?”
“No, no.” She hurried from the drugstore,
crushed that he should think her illiterate.
With the baby on one arm and the bundle of
clothes on the other and the letter clutched
in her hand she found herself walking
toward home.
The rains had made a deep slough of the
clay road and Tinang followed the prints
left by the men and the carabaos that had
52
gone before her to keep from sinking mud
up to her knees. She was deep in the road
before she became conscious of her shoes.
In horror, she saw that they were coated
with thick, black clay. Gingerly, she pulled
off one shoe after the other with the hand
still clutching to the letter. When she had
tied the shoes together with the laces and
had slung them on an arm, the baby, the
bundle, and the letter were all smeared with
mud.
There must be a place to put the baby down,
she thought, desperate now about the letter.
She walked on until she spotted a corner of
a field where cornhusks were scattered
under a kamansi tree. She shoved together
a pile of husks with her foot and laid the
baby down upon it. With a sigh, she drew
the letter from the envelope. She stared at
the letter which was written in English.
My dearest Tinay,
Hello, how is life getting along? Are you
still in good condition? As for myself, the
same as usual. But you’re far from my side.
It is not easy to be far from our lover.
Tinay, do you still love me? I hope your
kind and generous heart will never fade.
Someday or somehow I’ll be there again to
fulfill our promise.
Many weeks and months have elapsed. Still
I remember our bygone days. Especially
when I was suffering with the heat of the
tractor under the heat of the sun. I was
always in despair until I imagine your
personal appearance coming forward
bearing the sweetest smile that enabled me
to view the distant horizon.
Tinay, I could not return because I found
that my mother was very ill. That is why I
was not able to take you as a partner of life.
Please respond to my missive at once so
that I know whether you still love me or not.
I hope you did not love anybody except
myself.
I think I am going beyond the limit of your
leisure hours, so I close with best wishes to
you, my friends Gonding, Sefarin, Bondio,
etc.
Yours forever,
Amado
P.S.
My mother died last month.
Address your letter:
Mr. Amado Galauran
Binalunan, Cotabato
It was Tinang’s first love letter. A flush
spread over her face and crept into her
body. She read the letter again. “It is not
easy to be far from our lover. . . . I imagine
your personal appearance coming forward.
. . . Someday, somehow I’ll be there to
fulfill our promise. . . .” Tinang was
intoxicated. She pressed herself against the
kamansi tree.
My lover is true to me. He never meant to
desert me. Amado, she thought. Amado.
And she cried, remembering the young girl
she was less than two years ago when she
would take food to Señor in the field and
the laborers would eye her furtively. She
thought herself above them for she was
always neat and clean in her hometown,
before she went away to work, she had gone
to school and had reached sixth grade. Her
skin, too, was not as dark as those of the
girls who worked in the fields weeding
around the clumps of abaca. Her lower lip
jutted out disdainfully when the farm hands
spoke to her with many flattering words.
She laughed when a Bagobo with two
hectares of land asked her to marry him. It
was only Amado, the tractor driver, who
could look at her and make her lower her
eyes. He was very dark and wore filthy and
torn clothes on the farm but on Saturdays
when he came up to the house for his
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week’s salary, his hair was slicked down
and he would be dressed as well as Mr.
Jacinto, the schoolteacher. Once he told her
he would study in the city night-schools and
take up mechanical engineering someday.
He had not said much more to her but one
afternoon when she was bidden to take
some bolts and tools to him in the field, a
great excitement came over her. The
shadows moved fitfully in the bamboo
groves she passed and the cool November
air edged into her nostrils sharply. He stood
unmoving beside the tractor with tools and
parts scattered on the ground around him.
His eyes were a black glow as he watched
her draw near. When she held out the bolts,
he seized her wrist and said: “Come,”
pulling her to the screen of trees beyond.
She resisted but his arms were strong. He
embraced her roughly and awkwardly, and
she trembled and gasped and clung to him.
...
A little green snake slithered languidly into
the tall grass a few yards from the kamansi
tree. Tinang started violently and
remembered her child. It lay motionless on
the mat of husk. With a shriek she grabbed
it wildly and hugged it close. The baby
awoke from its sleep and cries lustily. Ave
Maria Santisima. Do not punish me, she
prayed, searching the baby’s skin for
marks. Among the cornhusks, the letter fell
unnoticed.
One of the main reasons why people write literary pieces is to pass on ideas and values
from generation to generation. Ideas and values are embedded in the literary pieces to serve as
a warning, as a lesson, or as an example of what might happen to people if subjected in a certain
situation or conflict. And one can see the culture and values of a certain tribe through a literary
work. As a reader, knowing the moral of the story is a must. This is the point where you can
get and extract the value and teaching that the story is trying to convey to the common people.
And most of the people rely on stories to teach and learn values and behaviors that are
acceptable to the society.
Moral is a message being conveyed or a lesson to be learned from the story. It may be
determined by the hearer, reader, or viewer themselves or may be explicitly stated through
a maxim. A moral is a lesson in a story or real life.
In order for you to get the moral of the story, you should be able to answer the following
guide questions:
What is the evident principle in the story?
What values are being emphasized?
What character traits are encouraged?
Moral as a life lesson can be found also by looking at how characters act and detecting
what is repeated all throughout the story.
The moral of the story entitled Love in the Cornhusks teaches people about the
importance of priorities and acceptance in life. Tinang might not married her true love interest
in the story, however, she chose to accept her present life and prioritize her family. We might
regret our decisions in life but the important thing is how you learn to accept that things will
not always be the way how you plan it.
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#1 Let us check your knowledge in getting the moral of a story. Below is another Mindanao
short story. Read the story carefully.
The Dog Eaters
Leoncio P. Deriada
Mariana looked out of the window toward
the other side of Artiaga Street. A group of
men had gathered around a low table in
front of Sergio's sari-sari store. It was ten
o'clock, Tuesday morning. Yet these men
did not find it too early to drink, and
worse. They wanted her husband to be
with them. Victor was now reaching for
his shirt hooked on the wall between Nora
Aunor and Vilma Santos. Mariana turned
to him, her eyes wild in repulsion and
anger.
"Those filthy men!" she snarled. "Whose
dog did they slaughter today?"
Victor did not answer. He put on his shirt.
Presently, he crawled on the floor and
searched for his slippers under the table.
Mariana watched him strain his body
toward the wall, among the rattan tools. He
looked like a dog tracking the smell
hidden carrion.
"My God, Victor, do you have to join them
every time they stew somebody's pet?"
Victor found his slippers. He emerged
from under the table, smoothed his pants
and unbutton his shirt. He was sweating.
He looked at his wife and smiled faintly,
the expression sarcastic, and in an attempt
to be funny, "it's barbecue today."
"I'm not in the mood for jokes!" Mariana
raised her voice. "It's time you stop going
with those good-for-nothing scavengers."
Her words stung. For now she noted an
angry glint in Victor's eyes. "They are
my friends, Mariana," he said.
"You should have married one of them!"
she snapped back. Suddenly, she
straightened. She heard Sergio's raspy
voice, calling from his store across the
street. It was an ugly voice, and it
pronounced Victor's name in a triumphant
imitation of a dog's bark.
"Victor! Victor! Aw! Aw!"
the canine growl floated across Artiaga
Street. Mariana glared at her husband as he
brushed her aside on his way to the
window. She felt like clawing his face,
biting his arms, ripping the smelly shirt off
his back. "I'm coming," Victor answered,
leaning out of the window. Mariana
opened her mouth for harsher invectives
but a sharp cry from the bedroom arrested
her. It was her baby. She rushed to the
table, pick a cold bottle of milk, and
entered.
In his rattan crib that looked like a rat's
nest, the baby cried louder. Mariana shook
the crib vehemently. The baby - all mouth
and all legs - thrust in awkward arms into
the air, blindly searching for accustomed
nipple.
The baby sucked the rubber nipple easily.
But Mariana's mind was outside the room
as she watched her husband lean out of the
window to answer the invitation of the
dog-eaters of Artiaga Street.
"Aren't you inviting your wife?" she spoke
loud, the hostility in her voice unchecked
by the dirty plywood wall. "Perhaps
your friends have reserved the best morsel
for me. Which is the most delicious part of
a dog, ha, Victor? Its heart? Its liver? Its
brain? Blood? Bone? Ears? Tongue? Tail?
I wish to God you'd all die of
hydrophobia!"
"Can you feed the baby and talk at the
same time?" Victor said. She did not
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expect him to answer and now that he had,
she felt angrier. The heat from the
unceilinged roof had become terrible and it
had all seeped into her head. She was
ready for a fight.
The baby had gone back to sleep. Mariana
dashed out of the room, her right hand
tight around the empty bottle. She had to
have a weapon. She came upon her
husband opening the door to little porch.
The porch was at the top of the stairs that
led out into Artiaga Street.
"Why don't you do something instead of
drinking their stinking tuba and eating that
filthy meat? Why don't you decent for a
change?"
Victor turned her off. It seemed he was
also ready for a fight. The glint in his eyes
had become sinister.
And what's so indecent about eating dog
meat?" His voice sounded canine, too, like
Sergio's. "The people of Artiaga Street
have been eating dog meat for as long as I
can remember."
"No wonder their manners have gone to
the dogs!"
"You married one of them."
"Yes, to lead a dog's life!"
Victor stepped closer, breathing hard.
Marina did not move. "What's eating
you?" he demanded.
"What's eating me?" she yelled. "Dog's!
I'm ready to say aw-aw, don't you know?"
Victor repaired his face, amused by this
type of quarrel. Again, he tried to be
funny.
"Come, come, Mariana darling," he said,
smiling condescendingly.
Mariana was not amused. She was all set
to proceed with the fight. Now she tried to
be acidly ironic.
“Shall I slaughter Ramir for you? That pet
of yours does nothing but bark at strangers
and dirty the doorstep. Perhaps you can
invite your friends tonight. Let’s
celebrate.”
“Leave Ramir alone,” Victor said,
seriously.
“That dog is enslaving me!”
Victor turned to the door. It was the final
insult, Mariana thought. The bastard! How
dare he turn his back on her?
“Punyeta!” she screeched and flung the
bottle at her husband. Instinctively, Victor
turned and parried the object with his arm.
The bottle fell to the floor but did not
break. It rolled noisily under the table
where Victor moment had hunted for his
rubber slippers.
He looked at her, but there was no reaction
in his face. Perhaps he thought it was all a
joke. He opened the door and stepped out
into the street.
Mariana ran to the door and banged it
once, twice, thrice, all the while shrieking,
“Go! Eat and drink until your tongue
hangs like a mad dog’s. Then I’ll call a
veterinarian.”
Loud after came across the street.
Mariana leaned out of the window and
shouted to the men gathered in front of
Sergio’s store.
“Why don’t you leave my husband alone?
You dogs!”
The men laughed louder, obscenely. Their
voices offended the ears just as the stench
from the garbage dump at the ArtiagaMabini junction offended the nostrils.
There were five other men aside from the
chief drinker, Sergio. Downing a gallon of
tuba at ten o’clock in the morning with of
Artiaga’s idle men was his idea of
brotherhood. It was good for his store, he
thought, though his wife languish behind
the row of glass jars and open cartons of
dried fish – the poor woman deep in
notebooks of unpaid bills the neighbors
had accumulated these last two years.
Mariana closed the window. The slight
darkening of the room intensified the heat
on the roof and in her head. She pulled a
stool and sat beside the sewing machine
under the huge pictures of Nora Aunor and
Vilma Santos, under the altar-like alcove
on the wall where a transistor radio was
enshrined like an idol.
She felt tired. Once again, her eyes
surveyed the room with repulsion. She had
stayed in this rented house for two years,
tried to paste pictures on the wall, hung up
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classic curtains that could not completely
ward off the stink from the street. Instead
of cheering up the house, they made it
sadder, emphasizing the lack of the things
she had dreamed of having when she
eloped with Victor two years ago.
Victor was quite attractive. When he was
teen-ager, he was a member of the
Gregory Body Building Club on Cortes
Street. He dropped out of freshmen year at
Harvadian and instead developed his chest
and biceps at the club. His was to be Mr.
Philippines, until one day, Gregory
cancelled his membership. Big Boss
Gregory - who was not interested in girls
but in club members with the proportions
of Mr. Philippines – had discovered that
Victor was dating a manicurist named
Fely.
Victor found work as a bouncer at Three
Diamonds, a candlelit bar at the end of
Artiaga, near Jacinto Street. All the
hostesses there were Fely’s customers.
Mariana, who came from a better
neighborhood, was a third year
BSE student at Rizal Memorial Colleges.
They eloped during the second semester,
the very week Fey drowned in the pool
behind Three Diamonds. Just as Mariana
grew heavy with a child, Victor lost his job
at the bar. He quarreled with the manager.
An uncle working in a construction
company found him a new job. But he
showed up only when the man did not
report for work.
These last few days, not one of
the carpenters got sick. So Victor had to
stay home.
Mariana felt a stirring in her womb. She
felt her belly with both hands. Her tight
faded dress could not quite conceal this
most unwanted pregnancy. The baby in
the crib in the other room was only eight
months, and here she was - carrying
another child. She closed her eyes and
pressed her belly hard. She felt the
uncomfortable swell, and in a moment, she
had ridiculous thought. What if she bore a
pair or a trio of puppies? She imagined
herself as a dog, a spent bitch with hind
legs spread out obscenely as her litter of
three, or four, or five, fought for her tits
while the mongrel who was responsible for
all this misery flirted with the other dogs
of the neighborhood.
A dog barked. Mariana was startled. It was
Ramir. His chain clanked and she could
picture the dog going up the stairs, his
lethal fangs bared in terrible growl.
“Ay, ay, Mariana!” a familiar, nervous
voice rose from the din. “Your dog! He’ll
bite me. Shoo! Shoo!”
It was Aling Elpidia, the fish and
vegetable vendor.
“Stay away from the beast, Aling Elpidia!”
Mariana shouted. She opened the door.
Aling Elpidia was in the little yard, her
hands nervously holding her basket close
to her like a shield. Ramir was at the
bottom of the stairs, straining at his chain,
barking at the old woman.
Mariana pulled the chain. The dog
resisted. But soon he relaxed and stopped
barking. He ran upstairs, encircled
Mariana once, and then sniffed her hands.
“Come on up, Aling Elpidia. Don’t be
afraid. I’m holding Ramir’s leash.”
The old woman rushed upstairs, still
shielding herself with her basket of fish
and vegetables.
“Naku, Mariana. Why do you keep that
crazy dog at the door? He’ll bite a kilo off
every visitor. The last time I was here I
almost had a heart attack.”
“That’s Victor’s idea of a house guard.
Come, sit down.”
Aling Elpidia dragged a stool to the
window. “Why, I’m still trembling!” she
said. “Why must you close the window,
Mariana?”
Mariana opened the window. “Those
horrible men across the street, I can’t stand
their noise.”
“Where’s Victor?”
“There!” Mariana said contemptuously.
“With them.” The old woman looked out
of the window.
“He is one of them!”
57
“One of what?”
“The dog-eaters of Artiaga Street!”
Mariana spat out the words, her eyes wild
in anger.
Aling Elpidia sat down again. “What is so
terrible about that?” she asked.
Mariana looked at the old woman. For the
first time she noticed that Aling Elpidia
had been dying her hair. But the growth of
hair this week had betrayed her.
“Do you eat dog meat, Aling Elpidia?”
Mariana asked.
“It’s better than goat’s meat: And a dog is
definitely cleaner than a pig. With the
price of pork and beef as high as Mount
Apo – one would rather eat dog meat.
How’s the baby?”
“Asleep”
Aling Elpidia picked up her basket from
the floor. “Here’s your day’s supply of
vegetables. I also brought some bangus.
Cook Victor a pot of sinigang and he’ll
forget the most delicious chunk of aw-aw
meat. Go, get a basket.”
Mariana went to the kitchen to get a basket
as Aling Elpidia busied herself sorting out
the vegetables.
“I hope you haven’t forgotten the green
mangoes and – and that thing you
promised me,” Mariana said, laying her
basket on the floor.
“I brought all of them,” assured the old
woman. She began transferring the
vegetables and fish into Mariana’s basket.
Mariana helped her.
“I haven’t told Victor anything,” Mariana
said in a low, confidential tone.
“He does not have to know,” Aling Elpidia
said.
The old woman produced from the bottom
of the basket a tall bottle filled with a dark
liquid and some leaves and tiny, gnarled
roots. She held the bottle against the light.
Mariana regarded it with interest and
horror. “I’m afraid, Aling Elpidia,” she
whispered.
“Nonsense. Go, take these vegetables to
the kitchen.”
Mariana sped to the kitchen. Aling Elpidia
moved to the table, pushed the dish rack
that held some five or six tin plates, and
set the bottle beside a plastic tumbler that
contained spoon and forks. She pulled a
stool from beneath the table and sat down.
Soon Mariana was beside her.
“Is it effective?” Mariana asked nervously.
“Very effective. Come on let me touch
you.”
Mariana stood directly in front of the old
woman, her belly almost touching the
vendor’s face. Aling Elpidia felt Mariana’s
belly with both hands.
“Three months did you say, Mariana?”
“Three months and two weeks.”
“Are you sure you don’t want this child?”
Aling Elpidia asked one hand flat on
Mariana’s belly. “It feels so healthy.”
“I don’t want another child,” Mariana said.
And to stress the finality of her decision,
she grabbed the bottle and stepped away
from the old woman. The bottle looked
like atrophy in her hand.
“Well, it’s your decision,” Aling Elpidia
said airily. “The bottle is yours.”
“Is it bitter?”
“Yes.”
Mariana squirmed. “How shall I take
this?”
“A spoonful before you sleeps in the
evening and another spoonful after
breakfast.”
“May I take it with a glass of milk or a
bottle of coke?”
“No. You must take it pure.”
“It’s not dangerous, is it, Aling Elpidia?”
“Don’t you worry. It is bitter but it is
harmless. It will appear as an accident.
Like falling down the stairs. Moreover,
there will be less pain and blood.”
“Please come everyday. Things might go
wrong.”
Aling Elpidia nodded and stood up. “I
think I must go now,” she said. Then she
lowered her voice and asked, “Do you
have the money?”
“Yes, yes,” Mariana said. She went to the
sewing machine and opened a drawer. She
handed Aling Epidia some crumpled bills.
The vendor counted the bills expertly, and
then dropped the little bundle into her
58
breast. She picked up her basket and
walked to the door. Suddenly she stopped.
“Your dog, Mariana.” Her voice became
nervous again.
Mariana held Ramir’s leash as the old
woman hurried down the stairs. “You may
start taking it tonight.” It was her last piece
of medical advice. Loud laughter rose
from the store across the street. Mariana
stiffened. Her anger returned. Then her
baby cried.
She hurried to the bedroom. The tall bottle
looked grotesque on the table: tiny,
gnarled roots seemed to twist like worms
or miniature umbilical cords. With a
shudder, she glanced at the bottle. The
sharp cry became louder. Mariana rushed
inside and discovered that the baby had
wetted its clothes.
She heard somebody coming up the stairs.
It must be Victor. Ramir did not bark.
“Mariana!” Victor called out. “Mariana!”
“Quiet!” she shouted back. “The baby’s
going back to sleep.”
The house had become hotter. Mariana
went out of the bedroom, ready to resume
the unfinished quarrel. Victor was now in
the room, sweating and red-eyed. He had
taken off his shirt and his muscular body
glistened wit animal attractiveness. But
now Mariana was in a different type of
heat.
“I met that old witch Elpidia,” Victor said,
“What did she bring you today?”
“The same things. Vegetables. Some fish.”
“Fish! Again?”
“You are drunk!”
“I’m not drunk. Come Mariana dear. Let
me hold you.”
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed. “You
stink!”
Victor moved back, offended. “I don’t
stink and I’m not drunk.”
Mariana stepped closer to her husband. He
smelled of cheap pomade, onions, and
vinegar.
“Do you have to be like this all the time?
Quarreling every day? Why don’t you get
a steady job like any decent husband? You
would be out the whole day, and perhaps, I
would miss you.”
“You don’t have to complain,” Victor said
roughly. “True, my work is not permanent
but I think we have enough. We are not
starving, are we?”
“You call this enough?” her hands
gesticulated madly. “You call this rat’s
nest, this hell of a neighborhood – enough?
You call these tin plates, this plastic
curtains – enough? This is not the type of
life I expect. I should have continued
school. You fooled me!”
“I thought you understood. I-“
“No, no I didn’t understand. And still I
don’t understand why you – you –“
“Let’s not quarrel,” Victor said abruptly. I
don’t want to quarrel with you.”
“But I want to quarrel with you!” Mariana
shouted.
“Be reasonable.”
“You are not reasonable. You never tried
to please me. You would rather be with
your stinking friends and drink their dirty
wine and eat their dirty meat. Oh, how I
hate it, Victor!”
“What do you want me to do – stay here
and boil the baby’s milk?”
“I wish you would!”
“That’s your job. You’re a woman.”
“Oh, how are you admire yourself for
being a man,” Mariana sneered in utter
sarcasm. “You miserable-“
“Don’t yell. You wake up the baby.”
“To hell with your baby!”
“You are mad, Mariana.”
“And so I’m mad. I’m mad because I don’t
eat dog meat. I’m mad because I want my
husband to make a man of himself, I’m
mad because – “
“Stop it!”
“Punyeta!”
“Relax, Mariana. You are excited. That’s
not good for you. I want my second baby
healthy.”
“There will be no second baby.”
“What do you mean?”
“You met Aling Elpidia on your way.”
“And what did that witch do? Curse my
baby? Is a vampire?”
“She came to help me.”
59
Mariana went to the table and snatched the
bottle. She held high in Victor’s face. “See
this, Victor?” she taunted him. Victor was
not interested. “You don’t want me to
drink tuba, and here you are with a bottle
of sioktong.”
“How dull you are!” her lips twisted in
derision. “See those leaves? See those
roots? They are very potent, Victor.”
“I don’t understand.”
“One spoonful in the morning and one
spoonful in the evening. It’s bitter, Victor,
but I will bear it.”
Like a retarded, Victor stared at his wife.
Then the truth dawned upon him and
exclaimed in horror, “What? What? My
baby!”
Mariana faced her husband squarely.
“Yes! And I’m not afraid!” she jeered.
“You won’t do it.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Give me that bottle.”
“No!”
“What kind of woman are you?”
“And what kind of man are you?”
“It’s my baby!”
“It’s mine. I have the right to dispose of it,
I don’t want another child.”
“Why, Mariana, why?”
“Because you cannot afford it! What
would you feed your another child, ha,
Victor? Tuba milk? Dog meat for rice?”
“We shall manage, Mariana. Everything
will be all right.”
“Sure, sure, everything will be all right –
for you. I don’t believe in that anymore.”
“Give me that bottle!”
“No!”
They grappled for a moment. Mariana
fought like an untamed animal. At last
Victor took hold the bottle. He pushed his
wife against the wall and ran to the
window, his right hand holding the bottle
above his head.
And like a man possessed, he hurled the
bottle out f the window. The crash of the
glass against the gravel on the road
rendered Mariana speechless. But she
recovered. She dashed to the window and
gave out almost inhuman scream at what
she saw. The bottle was broken into
countless splinters and the dark liquid
stained the dry gravel street. Bits of leaves
and roots stuck to the dust. Presently, a
dog came along and sniffed the wet ground
suspiciously, then left with his tail between
his legs.
Mariana screamed again in horror and
frustration. In the glare of the late morning
sun she had a momentary image of the
men – now faceless and voiceless – in
front of the store across the street. This
time they did not laugh, but they watched
her from certain blankness. She turned to
her husband and flung herself at him,
raising her arms, her fingers poised like
claws. She scratched his face and pounded
his chest with her fists.
“Damn you! Damn you!” she shrieked in
fury.
Victor caught her arms and shook her.
“Stop it, Mariana!” he mumbled under his
breath.
“Let me go! You are hurting me!”
“Behave you woman!” Victor shook her
harder.
Mariana spat on his face. Then she bit on
the right arm. She spat again, for she had a
quick taste of salt and dirt.
Victor released her. She moved back, her
uncontrollable rage shaking her. “You
threw it away! You destroy it! I paid forty
pesos for it and it’s not your money!”
“Forty pesos,” Victor murmured. “That is
a lot of milk.”
Mariana caught her breath. She allowed
dryly and said, “What do you want me to
do now – cut children’s dresses?”
“You are unnatural. You don’t act like a
mother, you want to kill your own child.”
“It’s my own child.”
“It’s murder!”
“Nobody will know.”
“I will know. You will know. And God –
and God – will know!”
“Ahhh!” Mariana sneered sontemptuously.
“Now who’s talking? When was the last
time you went to church, ha Victor? That
was the time the Legion of Mary brought
us to Fatima Church to be married and you
60
fought with the priest in the confessional.
And now here you are mentioning God’s
name to me.”
“Please, please, Mariana,” Victor was
begging now. “That’s our child!”
“I told you I didn’t want another child.
You broke that bottle but I’ll look for other
means. I’ll starve myself. I’ll jump out of
the window. I’ll fall down the stairs.”
“Mariana!”
“You cannot afford to buy pills or hire a
doctor.”
“I want a child.”
“You men can talk because you don’t have
to bear the children. You coward!”
Victor raised his hand to strike her.
Mariana offered her face, daring him to
complete his own humiliation. Victor
dropped his hand. He was lost, totally
unmanned.
A bit of his male vanity stirred inside him.
He raised his hand again, but Mariana was
quick with the nearest weapon. She seized
a stool with both hands, and with the
strength all her arms could muster, throws
the stool at him. Victor caught the object
with his strong shoulder. The stool
dropped to the floor as Mariana made
ready with another weapon, a vase of
plastic flowers.
“Go away from me! Get out! Get out!”
Victor went out of the room. Mariana was
left panting, giving vent to her anger by
pulling down the plastic curtains and the
printed cover of the sewing machine. She
stooped to the table and with a furious
sweep of her hand, cleared it of dish rack,
tin plates, spoons, and forks. Then she
went to the kitchen and tossed the basket
of vegetables and fish out of the kitchen
window. A trio of dogs rushed in from
nowhere and fought over the fish strewn in
the muddy space under the sink.
Then Ramir barked.
“Shut up, you miserable dog!”
Ramir continued barking.
Mariana paused. Ramir, she taught.
Victor’s dog. A cruel thought crossed her
mind and stayed there. Now she knew
exactly what to do. She reached for the big
kitchen knife of a shelf above the sink.
Kicking the scattered tin plates on the
floor, she crossed the main room to the
porch.
Downstairs, Ramir was barking at some
object in the street. Noticing Mariana’s
presence, he stopped barking. Mariana
stared at the dog. The dog stared back, and
Mariana noticed the change in the animal’s
eyes. They became fiery, dangerous. My
God, Mariana thought. This creature
knew! Ramir’s ears stood. The hair on the
back of its neck stood, too. Then he bared
his fangs viscously and growled.
Mariana dropped the knife. She did not
know how to use it at this moment. She
was beginning to be afraid.
Slowly, she climbed up the stairs. He
moved softly but menacingly. Like a
hunter sizing up his quarry. His yellowing
fangs dropped with saliva.
Meanwhile, Mariana was untying the
chain on the top of the stairs.
And the dog rushed into the roaring attack.
Quicker than she thought she was, Mariana
slipped the end of the chain under the
makeshift railing of the stairway and
pulled the leash with all her might. As she
had expected, the dog hurtled into the
space between the broken banisters and
fell. The weight of the animal pulled her to
her knees, but she was prepared for that,
too. She braced herself against the rails of
the porch, and now, the dog was dangling
below her. A crowd had now gathered in
front of the house to witness the
unexpected execution. But Mariana neither
saw their faces nor heard their voices.
Ramir gave a final yelp and stopped
kicking the air.
Mariana laughed deliriously. She watches
the hanging animal and addressed it in
triumph: “I’ll slit your throat and drink
your blood and cut you to pieces and stew
you and eat you! Damn you Victor. Damn
this child. Damn everything. I’ll cook you,
Ramir. I’ll cook you and eat you and eat
you and eat you!”
She released the chain and the canine
carcass dropped with a thud on the ground
61
below.
Mariana sat on the topmost step of the
stairs; she put her hands between her legs
and stared blankly at the rusty rooftops in
front of her. And for the first in all her life
on the Artiaga Street, Mariana cried.
Share your opinions. Give complete sentences in answering the question.
1. What lesson can the story bring to young people who chose to engage in early marriage
and parenting?
2. What part of the story mirrors the real and common happening in the life of the people
who are in relationship in your municipality?
3. What lesson can you get from Mariana and Victor in terms of handling their
responsibilities?
4.
In reality, what do you think of the people who eat dogs?
62
5. If you happened to witness and heard of this animal cruelty in your locality, what
actions are done in your community to prevent such activity?
6. What message do you want to give to people in your locality who do not think of
animal rights and welfare?
#2 Read the story carefully and answer the questions that follow.
Nanking Store
©1999 by Macario D. Tiu
I was only three years old then, but I have
vivid memories of Peter and Linda’s
wedding. What I remember most was
jumping and romping on their pristine
matrimonial bed after the wedding. I
would learn later that it was to ensure that
their first-born would be a boy. I was
chosen to do the honors because I was
robust and fat.
I also remember that I got violently sick
after drinking endless bottles of soft
drinks. I threw up everything that I had
eaten, staining Linda’s shimmering satin
wedding gown. Practically the entire
Chinese community of the city was
present. There was so much food that
some Bisayan children from the squatter’s
area were allowed to enter the compound
to eat in a shed near the kitchen.
During their first year of marriage, Linda
often brought me to their house in Bajada.
She and Peter would pick me up after
nursery school from our store in their car.
She would tell Mother it was her way of
easing her loneliness, as all her relatives
and friends were in Cebu, her hometown.
Sometimes I stayed overnight with them.
I liked going there because she pampered
me, feeding me fresh fruits as well as
preserved Chinese fruits like dikiam,
champoy and kiamoy. Peter was fun too,
making me ride piggyback. He was very
strong and did not complain about my
weight.
Tua Poy, that’s what she fondly called me.
It meant Fatso. I called her Achi, and
Peter, Ahiya. They were a happy couple. I
would see them chase each other among
the furniture and into the rooms. There
63
was much laughter in the house. It was this
happy image that played in my mind about
Peter and Linda for a long time.
Bajada at night like Peter did. I wished
Mother would ask the question, but she did
not.
I was six years old when I sensed that
something had gone wrong with their
marriage. Linda left the Bajada house and
moved into the upstairs portions of
Nanking Store which was right across
from Father’s grocery store in Santa Ana.
The Bajada residence was the wedding gift
of Peter’s parents to the couple. It was
therefore strange that Linda would choose
to live in Santa Ana while Peter would
stay in Bajada, a distance of some three
kilometers.
However, at the New Canton Barbershop I
learned the real reason. One night, Mother
told me to fetch Father because it was past
eight o’clock and he hadn’t had his dinner.
As a family we ate early. Like most
Chinese, we would close the store by five
and go up to the second floor to eat supper.
In Santa Ana where the Chinese stores
were concentrated, the buildings used to be
uniformly two storeys high. The first floor
was the store; the second floor was the
residence. In time some Chinese grew
prosperous and moved out to establish
little enclaves in different parts of the city
and in the suburbs. We remained in Santa
Ana.
One late afternoon, after school, I caught
Linda at home talking with Mother.
“Hoa, Tua Poya. You’ve grown very tall!”
Linda greeted me, ruffling my hair.
At that age, the show of affection made me
feel awkward and I sidled up to Mother.
Linda gave me two Mandarin oranges. I
stayed at the table in the same room, eating
an orange and pretending not to listen to
their conversation.
I noticed that Linda’s eyes were sad, not
the eyes that I remembered. Her eyes used
to be full of light and laughter. Now her
eyes were somber even when her voice
sounded casual and happy.
“I got bored in Bajada,” Linda said. “I
thought I’d help Peter at the store.”
That was how she explained why she had
moved to Santa Ana. I wanted to know if
she could not do that by going to the store
in the morning and returning home to
The New Canton Barbershop served as the
recreation center of our block. At night the
sidewalk was brightly lighted, serving as
the extension of the barbershop’s waiting
room. People congregated there to play
Chinese chess, to read the Orient News or
just talk. It was a very informal place.
Father and the other elderly males would
go there in shorts and sando shirts.
He was playing chess when I got there. He
sat on a stool with one leg raised on the
stool.
“Mama says you should go home and eat,”
I said.
Father looked at me and I immediately
noticed that he had had a drink. The focus
of his eyes was not straight.
“I have eaten. Go home. Tell Mother I’ll
follow in a short while,” he said.
I stayed on and watched the game although
I did not understand a thing.
“I said go home,” Father said, glowering at
me.
I did not budge.
“This is how children behave now. You
tell them to do something and they won’t
obey,” he complained to his opponent.
Turning to me, he said, “Go home.”
“Check,” his opponent said.
“Hoakonga!” Father cried, “I turn around
and you cheat me.”
His opponent laughed aloud, showing
toothless gums.
64
Father studied the chessboard. “Hoakonga!
You’ve defeated me four times in a row!”
“Seven times.”
“What? You’re a big cheat and you know
that. Certainly five times, no more!”
It elicited another round of laughter from
the toothless man. Several people in the
adjoining tables joined in the laughter.
Father reset the chess pieces to start
another game.
“You beat me in chess, but I have six
children. All boys. Can you beat that?” he
announced.
Father’s laughter was very loud. When he
had had a drink he was very talkative.
“See this?” he hooked his arm around my
waist and drew me to his side. “This is my
youngest. Can you beat this?”
The men laughed. They laughed very hard.
I did not know what was funny, but it must
be because of the incongruous sight of the
two of us. He was very thin and I was very
fat.
“Well, I have I seven children!” the
toothless man said.
“Ah, four daughters. Not counted,” Father
said.
It was Peter who broke the silence by
greeting Father. He also greeted some
people, and suddenly they were alive
again. The chess pieces made scraping
noises on the board, the newspapers
rustled, and people began to talk.
“Hoa, Tua Poya, you’ve grown very tall!”
he said, ruffling my hair.
I smiled shyly at him. He exchanged a few
words with Father and then, ruffling my
hair once more, he went away. It struck me
that he was not the Peter I knew, vigorous
and alert. This Peter looked tired, and his
shoulders sagged.
I followed him with my eyes. Down the
road I noted that his car was parked in
front of Nanking Store. But he did not get
into his car; instead he went inside the
store. It was one of those nights when he
would sleep in the store.
“A bad stock,” the toothless man said,
shaking his head. “Ah Kong has no bones.
But Peter is a bad stock. A pity. After four
years, still no son. Not even a daughter.”
“It’s the woman, not Peter,” said a man
from a neighboring table. “I heard they
tried everything. She even had regular
massage by a Bisayan medicine woman.”
“Ah Kong! Ah Kong!” somebody said.
“It’s sad. It’s very sad,” the toothless man
said. “His parents want him to junk her,
but he loves her.”
The laughter was deafening. Ah Kong
lived several blocks away. He had ten
children, all daughters, and his wife was
pregnant again.
When Father and I got home, I went to my
First Brother’s room.
They laughed at their communal joke, but
the laughter slowly died down until there
was absolute silence. It was a very curious
thing. Father saw Peter coming around the
corner and he suddenly stopped laughing.
The toothless man turned, saw Peter, and
he stopped laughing, too. Anybody who
saw Peter became instantly quiet so that by
the time he was near the barbershop the
group was absolutely silent.
“Why do they say that Ah Kong has no
bones?” I asked my brother.
“Where did you learn that?” my brother
asked.
“At the barbershop.”
“Don’t listen in on adult talk,” he said.
“It’s bad manners.”
“Well, what does it mean?”
“It means Ah Kong cannot produce a son.”
65
“And what is a bad stock?”
My brother told me to go to sleep, but I
persisted.
“It means you cannot produce any
children. It’s like a seed, see? It won’t
grow. Why do you ask?” he said.
“They say Peter is a bad stock.”
“Well, that’s what’s going to happen to
him if he won’t produce a child. But it’s
not really Peter’s problem. It is Linda’s
problem. She had an appendectomy when
she was still single. It could have affected
her.”
Somehow I felt responsible for their
having no children. I worried that I could
be the cause. I hoped nobody remembered
that I jumped on their matrimonial bed to
give them good luck. I failed to give them
a son. I failed to give them even a
daughter. But nobody really blamed me for
it. Everybody agreed it was Linda’s
problem.
That was why Linda had moved in to
Santa Ana.
But the problem was more complicated
than this. First Brother explained it all to
me patiently. Peter’s father was the sole
survivor of the Zhin family. He had a
brother but he died when still young. The
family name was therefore in danger of
dying out. It was the worst thing that could
happen to a Chinese family, for the
bloodline to vanish from the world. Who
would pay respects to the ancestors? It was
unthinkable. Peter was the family’s only
hope to carry on the family name, and he
still remained childless.
But while everybody agreed that it was
Linda’s fault, some people also doubted
Peter’s virility. At the New Canton
Barbershop it was the subject of drunken
bantering. He was aware that people were
talking behind his back. From a very
gregarious man, he became withdrawn and
no longer socialized.
Instead he put his energies into Nanking
Store. His father had retired and had given
him full authority. Under his management,
Nanking Store expanded, eating up two
adjacent doors. It was rumored he had
bought a large chunk of Santa Ana and
was diversifying into manufacturing and
mining.
Once, I met him in the street and I smiled
at him but he did not return my greeting.
He did not ruffle my hair. He had become
a very different man. His mouth was set
very hard. He looked like he was angry at
something.
The changes in Linda occurred over a
period of time. At first, she seemed to be
in equal command with Peter in Nanking
Store. She had her own desk and
sometimes acted as cashier. Later she
began to serve customers directly as if she
were one of the salesgirls.
Then her personal maid was fired. Gossip
blamed this on Peter’s parents. She lived
pretty much like the three stay-in salesgirls
and the young mestizo driver who cooked
their own meals and washed their own
clothes.
Members of the community whose
opinions mattered began to sympathize
with her because her in-laws were
becoming hostile towards her openly. The
mother-in-law made it known to
everybody she was unhappy with her. She
began to scold Linda in public. “That
worthless, barren woman,” she would spit
out. Linda became a very jittery person.
One time, she served tea to her mother-inlaw and the cup slid off the saucer. It gave
the mother-in-law a perfect excuse to slap
Linda in the face in public.
Peter did not help her when it was a matter
between his parents and herself. I think at
that time he still loved Linda, but he
always deferred to the wishes of his
parents. When it was that he stopped
loving her I would not know. But he had
learned to go to night spots and the talk
66
began that he was dating a Bisayan bar
girl. First Brother saw this woman and had
nothing but contempt for her.
“A bad woman,” First brother told me one
night about this woman. “All make-up. I
don’t know what he sees in her.”
It seemed that Peter did not even try to
hide his affair because he would
occasionally bring the girl to a very
expensive restaurant in Matina. Matina
was somewhat far from Santa Ana, but the
rich and mobile young generation Chinese
no longer confined themselves to Santa
Ana. Many of them saw Peter with the
woman. As if to lend credence to the
rumor, the occasional night visits he made
at Nanking Store stopped. I would not see
his car parked there at night again.
One day, Peter brought First Brother to a
house in a subdivision in Mandug where
he proudly showed him a baby boy. It was
now an open secret that he kept his woman
there and visited her frequently. First
Brother told me about it after swearing me
to secrecy, the way Peter had sworn him to
secrecy.
“Well, that settles the question. Peter is no
bad stock after all. It had been Linda all
along,” First Brother said.
It turned out Peter showed his baby boy to
several other people and made them swear
to keep it a secret. In no time at all
everybody in the community knew he had
finally produced a son. People talked about
the scandal in whispers. A son by a
Bisayan woman? And a bad woman at
that? But they no longer joked about his
being a bad stock.
All in all people were happy for Peter.
Once again his prestige rose. Peter basked
in this renewed respect. He regained his
old self; he now walked with his shoulders
straight, and looked openly into people’s
eyes. He also began to socialize at New
Canton Barbershop. And whenever we
met, he would ruffle my hair.
As for his parents, they acted as if nothing
had happened. Perhaps they knew about
the scandal, but pretended not to know.
They were caught in a dilemma. On one
hand, it should make them happy that
Peter finally produced a son. On the other
hand, they did not relish the idea of having
a half-breed for a grandson, the old
generation Chinese being conscious of
racial purity. What was certain though was
that they remained unkind to Linda.
So there came a time when nobody was
paying any attention anymore to Linda, not
even Peter. Our neighbors began to accept
her fate. It was natural for her to get
scolded by her mother-in-law in public. It
was natural that she should stay with the
salesgirls and the driver. She no longer
visited with Mother. She rarely went out,
and when she did, she wore a scarf over
her head, as if she were ashamed for
people to see her. Once in the street I
greeted her–she looked at me with panic in
her eyes, mumbled something, drew her
scarf down to cover her face, and hurriedly
walked away.
First Brother had told me once that Linda’s
degradation was rather a strange case. She
was an educated girl, and although her
family was not rich, it was not poor either.
Why she allowed herself to be treated that
way was something that baffled people.
She was not that submissive before. Once,
I was witness to how she stood her ground.
Her mother-in-law had ordered her to
remove a painting of an eagle from a
living room wall of their Bajada house,
saying it was bad feng shui. With great
courtesy, Linda refused, saying it was
beautiful. But the mother-in-law won in
the end. She nagged Peter about it, and he
removed the painting.
When the Bisayan woman gave Peter a
second son, it no longer created a stir in
the community. What created a minor stir
was that late one night, when the New
Canton Barbershop was about to close and
there were only a few people left, Peter
67
dropped by with his eldest son whom he
carried piggyback. First Brother was there.
He said everybody pretended the boy did
not exist.
Then Peter died in a car accident in the
Buhangin Diversion Road. He was
returning from Mandug and a truck
rammed his car, killing him instantly. I
cried when I heard about it, remembering
how he had been good to me.
At the wake, Linda took her place two
rows behind her mother-in-law who
completely ignored her. People passed by
her and expressed their condolences very
quickly, as if they were afraid of being
seen doing so by the mother-in-law. At the
burial, Linda stood stoically throughout
the ceremony, and when Peter was finally
interred, she swooned.
A few weeks after Peter’s burial, we
learned that Linda’s mother-in-law wanted
her out of Nanking Store. She offered
Linda a tempting amount of money.
People thought it was a vicious thing to
do, but none could help her. It was a
purely family affair. However, a month or
two passed and Linda was still in Nanking
Store. In fact, Linda was now taking over
Peter’s work.
I was happy to see that she had begun to
stir herself to life. It was ironic that she
would do so only after her husband’s
death. But at the same time, we feared for
her. Her mother-in-law’s hostility was
implacable. She blamed Linda for
everything. She knew about the scandal all
along, and she never forgave Linda for
making Peter the laughing stock of the
community, forcing him into the arms of a
Bisayan girl of an unsavory reputation and
producing half-breed bastard sons.
We waited keenly for the showdown that
was coming. A flurry of emissaries went to
Nanking Store but Linda stood pat on her
decision to stay. Then one morning, her
mother-in-law herself came in her flashy
Mercedes. We learned about what actually
happened through our domestic helper
who got her story from the stay-in
salesgirls. That was how the entire
community learned the details of the
confrontation.
According to them, Linda ran upstairs to
avoid talking to her mother-in-law. But the
older woman followed and started berating
her and calling her names. Linda kept her
composure. She did not even retaliate
when the older woman slapped her. But
when the mother-in-law grabbed Linda’s
hair, intending to drag her down the stairs,
Linda kicked her in the shin. The old
woman went wild and flayed at Linda.
Linda at first fought back defensively, but
as the older woman kept on, she finally
slapped her mother-in-law hard in the face.
Stunned, the older woman retreated,
shouting threats at her. She never showed
her face in Santa Ana again.
While some conservative parties in the
community did not approve of Linda’s
actions, many others cheered her secretly.
They were sad, though, that the mother-inlaw, otherwise a good woman, would
become a cruel woman out of desperation
to protect and perpetuate the family name.
Since the enmity had become violent, the
break was now total and absolute. This
family quarrel provided an interesting
diversion in the entire community; we
followed each and every twist of its
development like a TV soap opera. When
the in-laws hired a lawyer, Linda also
hired her own lawyer. It was going to be
an ugly fight over property.
Meanwhile, Linda’s transformation
fascinated the entire community. She had
removed her scarf and made herself visible
in the community again. I was glad that
every time I saw her she was getting back
to her old self. Indeed it was only then that
I noticed how beautiful she was. She had
well-shaped lips that needed no lipstick.
Her eyes sparkled. Color had returned to
her cheeks, accentuating her fine
complexion. Blooming, the women said,
68
seeming to thrive on the fight to remain in
Nanking Store. The young men sat up
whenever she passed by. But they would
shake their heads, and say “What a pity,
she’s barren.”
Then without warning the in-laws
suddenly moved to Manila, bringing with
them the two bastard sons. They made it
known to everybody that it was to show
their contempt for Linda. It was said that
the other woman received a handsome
amount so she would never disturb them
again.
We all thought that was that. For several
months an uneasy peace settled down in
Nanking Store as the struggle shifted to the
courts. People pursued other interests.
Then to the utter horror of the community,
they realized Linda was pregnant.
Like most people, I thought at first that she
was just getting fat. But everyday it was
getting obvious that her body was
growing. People had mixed reactions.
When she could not bear a child she was a
disgrace. Now that she was pregnant, she
was still a disgrace. But she did not care
about what people thought or said about
her. Wearing a pair of elastic pants that
highlighted her swollen belly, she walked
all over Santa Ana. She dropped by every
store on our block and chatted with the
storeowners, as if to make sure that
everybody knew she was pregnant.
There was no other suspect for her
condition but the driver. Nobody had ever
paid him any attention before, and now
they watched him closely. He was a shy
mestizo about Peter’s age. A very
dependable fellow, yes. And good-looking,
they now grudgingly admitted.
“Naughty, naughty,” the young men teased
him, some of whom turned unfriendly.
Unused to attention, the driver went on
leave to visit his parents in Iligan City.
One night, I arrived home to find Linda
talking with Mother.
“Hoa, Tua Poya! You’re so tall!” she
greeted me. “Here are some oranges. I
know you like them.”
I said my thanks. How heavy with child
she was!
“How old are you now?”
“Twelve,” I said.
“Hmm, you’re a man already. I should
start calling you Napoleon, huh? Well,
Napoleon, I’ve come here to say goodbye
to your mother, and to you, too.”
She smiled; it was the smile I remembered
when I was still very young, the smile of
my childhood.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to Iligan to fetch
Oliver. Then we’ll proceed to Cebu to visit
my parents. Would you like to go with
me?”
I looked at Mother. She was teary eyed.
Linda stood up and ruffled my hair.
“So tall,” she said.
That was two years ago. We have not
heard from Linda again. Nanking Store
remains closed. The store sign has streaked
into pastel colors like a stale wedding
cake. First Brother says it is best for Linda
to stay away. As for me, I am happy for
her but I keep wondering if she had given
birth to a boy.
69
Share your opinions. Give complete sentences in answering the question.
1. What can you say about the familial bond between in-laws? Is disagreement between a
wife/husband and parent-in-law common in your locality?
2. What part of the story mirrors the real and common happening in the life of the people
in your municipality?
3. What is the moral of the story? How can you apply the values in your life?
-C
O N G R A T U L A T I O N S-
You have finished the lesson in this module!
70
Module No. and Title
Module 4: Mindanao Literature in English
Lesson No. and Title
Lesson 2: Mindanao Epics and Ballads
Learning Outcomes
At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:
• analyze known Mindanao epics and ballads;
• identify the values acquired from the readings through
summarizing; and
• determine the best practices from the readings that can be
applied in real-life situations.
Time Frame
2 weeks
For this lesson in module 4, you will be engaging yourself to more Mindanao literary
pieces specifically literary genres such as epics and ballads. These literary genres deal with
adventures and journey of a notable person. You will be knowing more of the cultures and
values of Mindanao people captured in the writings.
#1 Epic Vs. Ballad – Compare and contrast epic and ballad. Discuss its similarity and
difference in no more than three sentences.
_________________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________________
#2 Recall a ballad. Extract a stanza/line that you like the most and discuss its message.
____________________
(title)
______________________________
_______________________________
_______________________________
_____________________________
Message:
_________________________________________________________________________
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#3 Recall one epic that you have encountered in your literature classes before. What makes
you remember the story?
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
________________________________________________________________________
Interpret the following lines. What do you think is the motive of the characters uttering such
lines?
1. “By this tree I shall know your fate from the time you depart from here, for if you live,
it will live; but if you die, it will die also.”
2. "No, let us seek my son. Even though we must enter the harbor where the Spaniards
are, let us continue our search."
3. “I will go and the land shall be avenged.”
4. "You, my friends, decide whether or not I shall give the hand of my daughter to
Bantugan in marriage."
72
Buyangyang (Water Strider)
(A Ballad from Butuan)
Buyayang buyayang buyayang sa tubig
(Strider, water strider on the water)
Minsay isang tatay payapang nag bungkal
akoy nanakayan walay katig katig
(Once a father tilled the land peacefully)
(I go sailing with nothing, no outrigger)
katabang ni nanay sa lupang gi mahal
Walay bugsay bugsay bukton ray
pangkaykay
(helping mother tend the land they loved)
(Not a paddle, but my arms just flapping)
(once a little child dreamed of going to school)
naay munting paslit na nais mag aral
pagdunggo sa baybay nagakapaykapay
digmaan at sakit hinooy umiral
(And crazily, I’m flailing once I get to shore)
(but instead war and sickness were the rule)
Sa yutang gisaad katin aw sa tubig
(In this promised Land how clear the water)
halina't magmasid mag magunawan
dayo ug lumad kalinaw ang ibig
(come, look and understand)
(clearly we want peace, native, or stranger)
kuyog at kuliglig panay ang tagisan
apan isang araw punlo ay umulan
(But one day the dark clouds rained bullets)
(the beetles and the crickets make so much
noise)
nawasak nahan na munting kabuhayan
may sa himpapawid sa radyot lathalan
(Life and livelihood were all broken and lost)
(it’s broadcast all over the radio and news)
may sa himpapawid, may sa himpapawid
Didto sa mindanao duna kami balay
(Here in Mindanao, we used to have a house)
ang kanhi nga lagkaw ni nanay ug tatay
(it’s broadcast all over, it’s broadcast all over)
may sa himpapawid sa radiot lathalan
(it’s broadcast all over the radio and news)
(what used to be the house of our ancestors)
ngunit di marinig ang tinig ng bayan
sila gapanguhag huway ug bagakay
(but they can’t hear the people’s voice)
(they were gatherers of rattan and bamboo)
arun pabayluag mga isdang gagmay
(to trade for little fishes from the sea)
Shortened version:
Di na mogaud
Buyayang buyayang
Tukon lang kanunay
Diin mikadahik
Sa bugan ni Nene
Buyayang buyayang is a folk song or ballad from Butuan, Northern Mindanao. Butuan
is named after “batuan”, a sour fruit which is commonly used in their local dishes. A ballad
from this place talks about a water strider that has a difficulty as it makes its way across the
surface of the water. This piece is about peace.
Buyayang sa tubig
Ako manakayan wa bay katigkatig
73
Bantugan
Summary
There is a kingdom called Bumbaran. There lived King Madali and Prince Bantugan.
Bantugan was famous for his might and prowess, which attracted many women. This made
the king envious.
He banned the people from talking to the prince or they will be punished. Bantugan left
the palace and ended up in the Kingdom of the Land of Two Seas. Bantugan fell ill and died
at the kingdom gates. The king of the land and Princess were shocked at his dead body.
Nobody in the land knew of the prince.
He held a forum with the wise men to deal with Bantugan’s corpse until a parrot came
and told them of his identity. The loro was tasked to tell Madali of his brother’s demise,
which he did.
Upon knowing of his death of his brother, King Madali was saddened. He hurriedly
flew to the heavens to return Bantugan’s spirit. Madali return with the soul and Princess
Datimbang met with Madali carrying his body. They returned the soul into Bantugan’s body
and revived him. All rejoiced, including King Madali.
Meanwhile, King Miskoyaw heard of Bantugan’s death and invaded the kingdom of
Bumbaran. Bantugan fought but he was weakened since he was recently revived. He was
imprisoned. Eventually, his strength returned and defeated King Miskoyaw and his men.
The kingdom was saved and they continued their celebration. The envy of King Madali was
now gone.
Bantugan traveled to many lands and met many princesses, which he all married. He
returned to King Madali, who welcomed him with joy. Bantugan lived longly and
peacefully.
A narrative that is most often told and retold from generation to generation is the hero
tale or what is mostly known as epic. The story focuses on the journey of a legendary hero who
are admired by many people because of its looks, abilities, and fighting skills as well as mental
alertness. Epic is a long narrative poem that is basically based on oral tradition which shares
beliefs, customs, ideals, and life values of people. Philippine epics open ways for people to see
certain ethnic groups and regional heroes. Bantugan is a Maranao epic. And since epic is
originally a long narrative poem, most of the people reads and knows the story of a regional
hero through its summary.
A summary is a shortened version of the story or the gist of the story. Remember these
things in making a summary:
1. Always base the summary on the original story or literary piece.
2. Since summary is a shortened version, keep your summary short.
3. Make use of your own words in retelling the story.
4. Refer to the main ideas and core message of the original piece.
5. Read with “who, what, when, where, why and how questions” in mind. Know the answers
of these questions when reading the original piece.
6. Never put your own ideas and opinions about issues tackled in the original piece. Stick to
what is happening in the story.
Source: Writing a Summary homepage.smc.edu/reading_lab/
74
Read the epic below. Apply your learning about making a good summary through answering
the story board prepared below the epic.
Note: There are questions break in every important event in the story for you to take a pause and predict
what will happen next. But you are not required to write your answers to the question.
Indarapatra at Sulayman
(Maranao Epic)
A very long time ago, the large island of
Mindanao was completely covered with
water, and the sea extended over all the
lowlands so that nothing could be seen but
mountains. There were many people living
in the country, and all the highlands were
dotted with villages and settlements. For
many years the people prospered, living in
peace and contentment.
monster was a dreadful bird also, having
seven heads and the power to see in all
directions at the same time. Mt. Gurayn
was its home and like the others it wrought
havoc in its region.
Take A Break!
Of the four monsters, which do you think is the most
difficult to fight with?
Suddenly there appeared in the land four
horrible monsters which, in a short time,
had devoured every human being they
could find.
Kurita, a terrible creature with many
limbs, lived partly on land and partly in the
sea, but its favorite haunt was the
mountain where the rattan grew; and here
it brought utter destruction on every living
thing. The second monster, Tarabusaw,
an ugly creature in the form of a man,
lived on Mt. Matutun, and far and wide
from that place he devoured the people,
laying waste the land. The third, an
enormous bird called Pah, was so large
that when on the wing it covered the sun
and brought darkness to the earth. Its egg
was as large as a house. Mt. Bita was its
haunt, and there the only people who
escaped its voracity were those who hid in
caves in the mountains. The fourth
So great was the death and destruction
caused by these terrible animals that at
length the news spread even to the most
distant lands, and all nations were grieved
to hear of the sad fate of Mindanao.
Now far across the sea in the land of the
golden sunset was a city so great that to
look at its many people would injure the
eyes of man. When tidings of these great
disasters reached this distant city, the heart
of the king Indarapatra was filled with
compassion, and he called his
brother, Sulayman, begging him to save
the land of Mindanao from the monsters.
Sulayman listened to the story, and as he
heard he was moved with pity.
75
“I will go,” said he, zeal and enthusiasm
adding to his strength, “and the land shall
be avenged.”
King Indarapatra, proud of his brother’s
courage, gave him a ring and a sword as he
wished him success and safety. Then he
placed a young sapling by his window and
said to Sulayman:
“By this tree I shall know your fate from
the time you depart from here, for if you
live, it will live; but if you die, it will die
also.”
Take A Break!
What do you think will happen to Sulayman?
So Sulayman departed for Mindanao, and
he neither walked nor used a boat, but he
went through the air and landed on the
mountain where the rattan grew. There he
stood on the summit and gazed about on
all sides. He looked on the land and the
villages, but he could see no living thing.
And he was very sorrowful and cried out:
“Alas, how pitiful and dreadful is this
devastation!”
No sooner had Sulayman uttered these
words than the whole mountain began to
move, and then shook. Suddenly out of the
ground came the horrible creature, Kurita.
It sprang at the man and sank its claws into
his flesh. But Sulayman, knowing at once
that this was the scourge of the land, drew
his sword and cut the Kurita to pieces.
Encouraged by his first success, Sulayman
went on to Mt. Matutun where conditions
were even worse. As he stood on the
heights viewing the great devastation there
was a noise in the forest and a movement
in the trees. With a loud yell, forth leaped
Tarabusaw. For a moment they looked at
each other, neither showing any fear. Then
Tarabusaw threatened to devour the man,
and Sulayman declared that he would kill
the monster. At that the animal broke large
branches off the trees and began striking at
Sulayman who, in turn, fought back. For a
long time the battle continued until at last
the monster fell exhausted to the ground
and then Sulayman killed him with his
sword.
Take A Break!
Sulayman defeated the monsters easily! Do you think
he will defeat the next two monsters with ease?
The next place visited by Sulayman
was Mt. Bita. Here havoc was present
everywhere, and though he passed by
many homes, not a single soul was left. As
he walked along, growing sadder at each
moment, a sudden darkness which startled
him fell over the land. As he looked
toward the sky he beheld a great bird
descending upon him. Immediately he
struck at it, cutting off its wing with his
sword, and the bird fell dead at his feet;
but the wing fell on Sulayman, and he was
crushed.
Now at this very time King Indarapatra
was sitting at his window, and looking out
he saw the little tree wither and dry up.
“Alas!” he cried, “my brother is dead”;
and he wept bitterly.
Then although he was very sad, he was
filled with a desire for revenge, and
putting on his sword and belt he started for
Mindanao in search of
his brother.
Take A Break!
If you were King Indarapatra, would you take
revenge too?
76
He, too, traveled through the air with great
speed until he came to the mountain where
the rattan grew. There he looked about,
awed at the great destruction, and when he
saw the bones of Kurita he knew that his
brother had been there and gone. He went
on till he came to Matutun, and when he
saw the bones of Tarabusaw he knew that
this, too, was the work of Sulayman.
Still searching for his brother, he arrived at
Mt. Bita where the dead bird lay on the
ground, and as he lifted the severed wing
he beheld the bones of Sulayman with his
sword by his side. His grief now so
overwhelmed Indarapatra that he wept for
some time. Upon looking up he beheld a
small jar of water by his side. This he
knew had been sent from heaven, and he
poured the water over the bones, and
Sulayman came to life again. They greeted
each other and talked long together.
Sulayman declared that he had not been
dead but asleep, and their hearts were full
of joy.
After some time Sulayman returned to his
distant home, but Indarapatra continued
his journey to Mt. Gurayn where he killed
the dreadful bird with the seven heads.
After these monsters had all been
destroyed and peace and safety had been
restored to the land, Indarapatra began
searching everywhere to see if some of the
people might not be hidden in the earth
still alive.
he greeted her, she drew near and talked
with him while he ate the rice.
Take A Break!
What do you think of the woman? Is she a friend or
enemy?
Of all the people in the land, the old
woman told him, only a very few were still
alive, and they hid in a cave in the ground
from whence they never ventured. As for
herself and her old husband, she went on,
they had hidden in a hollow tree, and this
they had never dared leave until after
Sulayman killed the voracious bird, Pah.
At Indarapatra’s earnest request, the old
woman led him to the cave where he found
the headman with his family and some of
his people. They all gathered about the
stranger, asking many questions, for this
was the first they had heard about the
death of the monsters. When they found
what Indarapatra had done for them, they
were filled with gratitude, and to show
their appreciation the headman gave his
daughter to him in marriage, and she
proved to be the beautiful girl whom
Indarapatra had seen at the mouth of the
cave.
Then the people all came out of their
hiding-place and returned to their homes
where they lived in peace and happiness.
And the sea withdrew from the land and
gave the lowlands to the people
One day during his search he caught sight
of a beautiful woman at a distance. When
he hastened toward her she disappeared
through a hole in the ground where she
was standing. Disappointed and tired, he
sat down on a rock to rest, when, looking
about, he saw near him a pot of uncooked
rice with a big fire on the ground in front
of it. This revived him and he proceeded to
cook the rice. As he did so, however, he
heard someone laugh near by, and turning
he beheld an old woman watching him. As
77
Story board of the Heroes. Summarize the epic Indarapatra and Sulayman by choosing six
important events in the story. Write the details of events in each box from beginning to the end of
the journey. Each box should not contain more than 5 sentences.
Start
Finish
-C O N G R A T U L A T I O N SYou have finished the lesson in this module!
78
Module No. and Title
Module 5: Mindanao Literary Poems
Lesson No. and Title
Lesson 1: Mindanao Local Poems
Learning Outcomes
At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:
• read and analyze Mindanao literary poems through
imagery;
• identify the values acquired from the readings; and
• determine the best practices from the readings that
can be applied in real-life situations.
1 week
Time Frame
Module 5 will let you explore the richness and creativity of literary poems in Mindanao. In
this module, your senses will be activated as you read and savor each line of the poem through
different activities prepared just for you. You already know the meaning of the poem and its
different literary types. This time you are going to perform tasks that will let you further appreciate
poems.
Analyze the lines of the poem My Neighbor by Ricaredo Demetillo below by evaluating the
sensory language used. Choose the sense that represents the sensory language used in the poem.
Write your answer in column B.
SIGHT
HEAR
A
SMELL
TOUCH
TASTE
B
Now all the urchins shy, the cold tall gate
That guards the ripe fruits from their
slings
So know how each lush flower-bed is
sprayed by hoses in the sun
And guess when roses scent the air
Or drop their petals on the grass
Where my boys tumble in the sun
79
EXPLAIN
What is the importance of sensory images that the poet uses in writing a poem?
Imagery is one of the significant elements of the poem. To achieve the vivid projection of
image that the poet is trying to form, poets use language that appeals to the senses – sense of sight
(visual), hearing (auditory), smell, touch (tactile), and taste. Generally, poets use sensory
experiences to describe their impressions about something and create vivid pictures that will help
readers understand what the poem means.
Example lines:
Golden petals of daffodils (sight)
Scorching heat of the sun (touch)
Patter of the feet (sound)
Aromatic scent of coffee (smell)
Sweet strawberry (taste)
Source: Hovland et al. (1997). Elements of Literature Introductory Course.
Orlando Florida: Holt, Rinehart, & Winston, Inc.
80
The poem below is written by a Dabawenyo writer. The poet uses sensory experiences to
clearly project the message of the poem – ways to kill cockroach.
Unsaon Pagpatay sa Ok-ok
Poetry by Errol Merquita | November 6, 2016
Pag- andam og tsinelas,
kanang baga, kanang malaparo.
Pag-andam og tirongan,
kanang talinis, kanang taas.
Pag-andam og silhig ug sako,
kanang dako, kanang lapad.
Tuktoka sa iyang panimalay.
Kon makit-an nimong
gakamang-kamang ang mga ok-ok
sa Boulevard, hinay-hinayag duol.
Unya kalit walupa
sa baga nga tsinelas.
Ug makaikyas unya musukol
ang inahak, kuhaa ang tirongan.
Tusoka sa lungag kay tingali
misuksok sa Brgy. 23-C.
Tusoka gyud hangtod madunggan
nimong napislat ang iyang lawas.
Unya kuha dayon kag silhig.
Hiposa, tapoka, isulod sa sako
panaghoy murag daw sawaay.
Inig kadlawon ilabay sa kasagbotan
Ug aron mahimangnoan ang tanan
butangi og pasidaan,
ok-ok ako huwag ninyong tularan.
Sayon ra patyon
ang mga gagmayng ok-ok.
Perog kung dinagko
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na Insekto na gani,
Ayaw sa patya,
kay istudyohan pa.
The line Kon makit-an nimong gakamang-kamang ang mga ok-ok appeals to your sense of
sight (visual).
The line Tusoka gyud hangtod madunggan nimong napislat ang iyang lawas appeals to
your sense of hearing (auditory)
The line Unya kuha dayon kag silhig. Hiposa, tapoka, isulod sa sako appeals to your sense
of touch (tactile).
The use of these sensory languages help the readers create a clear scenario and feelings that
the poem is trying to convey.
After knowing the importance of sensory languages in dealing with poems. Analyze the
poem and identify sensory language and senses used.
Adidas sa Badjao
Poetry by Jovanie Garay | May 20, 2018
adidas sa badjao
perming galakaw-lakaw
gikan silas Dabaw
hangtud Oriental ang panaw
nahimong negosyante
makahangyo ka permi
gikan dosentos baynte
hangtud sa wan pepti
???
adidas sa badjao
ang halin ipamahaw
usahay lugaw-lugaw
aron gutom mahanaw
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kung imong tan-awon
nanginabuhi intawon
isug natong mga igsuon
hagit sa kinabuhi gapadayon
???
adidas sa badjao
lig-on ilakaw-lakaw
bisan asa pa imong panaw
diha ilalom sa adlaw
pagkanindot suoton
dili gikan sa halangdon
sayon ra pod sukdon
sa tiil nga mga kubalon
???
mga adidas sa badjao
amping mos inyong panaw
ug kung mubalik mos Dabaw
patilawa kos inyong lugaw
dinhi pud sa Davao Oriental
duna mi daghang bahal
maghinay-hinay ta’g tagay
ug sa kinabuhi maglipay-lipay
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Use the organizer below in answering the task.
Poetic Line
E.g
Sense
Golden petals of daffodil
Sight
Congratulations for finishing this module!
How about a TV break?
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Module No. and Title
Module 6: Contemporary Literature of the Philippines
Lesson No. and Title
Lesson 1: Film Production about Mindanao
Learning Outcomes
At the end of the lesson, the students are expected to:
• identify the culture of the settlers of Mindanao;
• determine the significance of Mindanao literary
pieces in our daily lives; and
• appreciate the culture of the Mindanao through
motion pictures.
1 week
Time Frame
Mindanao is tagged as the Land of Promise because of its abundant natural resources and
biodiversity. But despite its richness, Mindanao also has its dark sides just like any other islands
and places. There are many conflicts everywhere from insurgents, drugs, corruption, poverty to
religious conflicts, political dynasties, and such . But despite these, Mindanawan remains strong all
this time. There are marks of progress everywhere.
Literature helps boost the confidence of Mindanawan people. Through literary works,
people slowly discover amazing and unique culture of ethnic groups in Mindanao. And for some
good reason, ethnic groups and cultures are presented in films and motion picture productions. This
module will let you see works of film with Mindanao as its center piece
Recall a movie that involves a reflection of the culture of Mindanao people. How are the
following Mindanao people usually portrayed in the movies?
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Soldiers –
Common people –
Tribe leaders –
Muslim –
Christian –
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In films, local people and tribes are presented reflecting what people generally know of the
culture. Some might include biases and prejudices. Some lack deeper knowledge about the ethnic
group and culture. How can you describe the biases and prejudices of people towards Mindanao
and its settlers? Answer in no 4-5 sentences each part of the paragraph.
Introduction
Body
Conclusion
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ESSAY RUBRIC
Traits
Focus and Detail
Organization
Voice
Word Choice
Sentence
Structure,
Grammar,
Mechanics, and
Spelling
4
There is one clear,
well-focused topic.
Main ideas are
clear and are well
supported by
detailed and
accurate
information
The introduction is
inviting, states the
main topic, and
provides an
overview of the
paper. Information
is relevant and
presented in a
logical order. The
conclusion is
strong
The author’s
purpose of writing
is very clear, and
there is strong
evidence of
attention to
audience. The
author’s extensive
knowledge and/or
experience with the
topic is/are evident.
The author uses
vivid words and
phrases. The
choice and
placement of words
seems accurate,
natural, and not
forced.
All sentences are
well constructed
and have varied
structure and
length. The author
makes no errors in
grammar,
mechanics, and/or
spelling.
3
There is one clear,
well-focused topic.
Main ideas are clear
but are not well
supported by detailed
information.
2
There is one topic.
Main ideas are
somewhat clear.
1
The topic and main
ideas are not clear.
The introduction
states the main topic
and provides an
overview of the
paper. A conclusion
is included.
The introduction
states the main topic.
A conclusion is
included.
There is no clear
introduction,
structure or
conclusion.
The author’s purpose
of writing is
somewhat clear, and
there is some
evidence of attention
to audience. The
author’s knowledge
and/or experience
with the topic is/are
evident.
The author’s purpose
of writing is
somewhat clear, and
there is evidence of
attention to audience.
The author’s
knowledge and/or
experience with the
topic is/are limited.
The author’s
purpose of writing is
unclear.
The author uses vivid
words and phrases.
The choice and
placement of words
is inaccurate at times
and/or seems
overdone.
The author uses
words that
communicate clearly,
but the writing lacks
variety.
The writer uses a
limited vocabulary
Jargon or clichés
may be present and
detract from the
meaning.
Most sentences are
well constructed and
have varied structure
and length. The
author makes a few
errors in grammar,
mechanics, and/or
spelling, but they do
not interfere with
understanding.
Most sentences are
well constructed, but
they have similar
structure and/or
length. The author
makes several errors
in grammar,
mechanics, and/or
spelling that interfere
with understanding.
Sentences sound
awkward, are
distractingly
repetitive, or are
difficult to
understand. The
author makes
numerous errors in
grammar,
mechanics, and/or
spelling that
interfere with
understanding
Reviewer’s
Comments
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Contemporary literature of the Philippines is not only limited to writing and publication of
local writers’ prose and poems but is also expanded to producing of films that represents certain
culture and people. Here are some of the movies produced about Mindanao that you may watch:
This movie entitled Capt. Rassul Alih: Hindi Sa’yo ang Mindanao was aired on 1993.
Tu Pug Imatuy (The Right to Kill) was directed by Arbi Barbarona, who came from Davao
City. The film was awarded as Best Film at the Quezon City Cinema filmfest in 2017. The story
line was based from real and true events that happened in the highlands in between Bukidnon and
Davao, where the 2014 Matigsalug’s ancestral domain is located. NPA (New People’s Army)
continued to place themselves in Lumad’s territory while AFP (Armed Forces of the Philippines)
determined to pursue them in guerilla war in the jungle and forest – landscapes that unfortunately
destructed because of mining and logging.
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The story reveals the tragic happening in the family of Dawin and Obunay. Their youngest
child died. Dawin and his two surviving children were arrested by military men. Military men
assume Dawin knows the hide out of the rebels and they forced him to tell them the direction. Along
the way, Odunay, his wife, was caught also by the men. They stripped off the clothes of the two in
the witness of the beautiful waterfall. As they reached the military-claimed rebel territory, which
turns to be a Lumad classroom, parents and teacher were also arrested as they were accused of being
a communist front. At night, Obunay manages to free herself and the rest of them. As the two of
them tried to escape, they are immediately caught again by the soldiers who were able to wake up
at the moment. This event leads to the killing of Dawin. The rebels had a gunfight with the soldiers.
Obunay escaped. But one soldier pursues her and Obunay lead them to holes intended for trapping
and killing wild boars. While the credits role in the final frame of the film, the real Obunay appeared
in a documentary footage and recounted the story that happened in 2014 ending the film powerfully.
Mindanao is a 2019 film directed by Brillante Mendoza. It talks about the story of a woman
who cares for her daughter battling against brain cancer while her husband was deployed as military
medic. The story was juxtaposed with the Maranao Folklore Indarapatra and Sulayman. It uses the
dying kid and myth to emphasize a warp of conflict and violence in Filipino society.
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After knowing some of films produced with Mindanao as its center piece, you get to know things
happening in reality.
Think of becoming a film director and answer the questions below:
1. If you are going to be a director of a movie about Mindanao, what ethnic group are you
going to choose as a subject and why?
2. What unexplored and unknown culture of the chosen ethnic group you want to present and
emphasize in the film?
3. What prejudices and biases towards the chosen ethnic group you want to eliminate using the
film?
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Literature is indeed a mirror of a culture. As a literate Filipino, how are you going to use
literature as a platform to change and improve what global people think of Filipino people in
general?
Midterm is done !
It is time for you to take a break!
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