It was bright and happy. Painted yellow and orange, the Port of Tubigon building looked fresh and new. Half of the road is finished, while three quarters of the other side are rubble. The island in the middle showcased the beauties of Bohol: a river, a manmade forest, and churches. A tractor was idle next to a poster of the wide-eyed tarsier. Does a real one ever blink?
“Waaa. Ang ginaw,” shivered Hazel in the dead of the night. Her bed since the October 15 quake was three dining chairs she connected while her son, Elizer, and Elmer (her civil partner) and Mark (a relative) occupied the single katri—a bamboo bed. They positioned their tolda (a makeshift tent) by the wall of Sagbayan Public Market. A tall pile of packed bread fenced one side of their temporary house. To somewhat protect themselves from intruders at night, they barricaded their tent with several market tables turned on one side. Before darkness descended, Hazel went across the street and entered […]
“Ingon sila silot daw nis Ginoo nato. Pero para nako, grasya ni,” Tatay in his ’50s claimed after taking several gulps from his glass of tuba. “Daghan kaayog grasya naabot human sa linog,” he further shared. The tuba vendor scooped a spoon of lilong doused in native vinegar and spiced with onions and sliced siling hangad sa langit for me. Her two relatives removed the gut of this small fish on a bamboo bench next to her table of small trading. A fellow market vendor complained why the anchovy-looking fish were not halved and deboned like kinilaw should be. Nanay […]