“No, I live there,” was my earnest reply to a lawyer seated beside me on the plane during the one-hour flight from Manila to Bohol. He was comfortably sleeping half of the time during the flight while I was having difficulty sitting due to my lower back pain (which needs physical therapy). When he woke up, he started a conversation. I wasn’t really in for a talk but being the “friendly and hospitable” Bol-anon that I am, I wouldn’t want to disappoint him. He asked me if I’m just visiting Bohol and I said, “No, I live there.” He then innocently asked me what tourist spots are found in Bohol and I answered in a matter-of-fact manner- the Chocolate Hills, thousands of them! And he threw me a surprised look, “Really, it’s in Bohol?” Tickled and partly irritated by his lack of knowledge about my home land, I gave him a rundown of a few tourist spots in Bohol. But not wanting to sound like a tourist guide wannabe, I only mentioned the “postcard” tourist attractions- the beaches in Panglao Island (which Bohol is famous of), the Hinagdanan cave (the more famous one among the many caves in Bohol) and of course, the Tarsier (the world’s smallest primate). I didn’t mention more hills, falls and rivers and I forgot to tell him about the great dive sites, the whales and dolphins (which I’ve yet to explore) and the wild cats, the flying lemurs and other “exotic” fauna. I didn’t have the chance to tell him about the centuries-old stone churches and other historical sites around the province. Really, “It’s All In Bohol!” It wouldn’t surpass Boracay as the No.1 tourist destination last year if Bohol isn’t that wonderfully blessed. And if he’d only knew, he wouldn’t want to miss the world famous Loboc Children’s Choir sing their arias. Indeed, Bohol is home to some famous musical personalities- does Yoyoy Villame or Luke Mejares (my childhood crush) ring a bell? Hmmm….what about these personalities: Cesar Montano? Carlos P. Garcia? Anyone?
Bohol may not be economically advanced and living in it might be provincial but I’m proud of Bohol. I have always been proud of Bohol- of its wonderful places, its history and its people. And yes, I am proud to be a Bol-anon. The Bol-anons are known to be brave and strong-willed. We’re not descendants of Francisco Sendrijas- the well-known Dagohoy- for nothing. But we are the friendly ones, too (if not the gullible ones- depending on which side of the issue are you) being descendants of Datu Sikatuna, who did a Sandugo with the Spanish conquistador Manuel Lopez de Legaspi. Thus, Tagbilaran City, the lone city in Bohol, is known as the City of Friendship. And well, with all the biases (and colonial view on beauty?) I considered the Bol-anons to be beautiful with our mixture of Spanish and Chinese lineage.
Indeed, living in a place takes more than knowing the place. It’s more than being in it or knowing its history and one’s lineage but growing with its history and being a part of it. Real living, in its true essence, is the experience and the bond within one’s community- the people in it, the friends and loved ones.
But I am now a bit troubled by my earnest “I live there (in Bohol)!” statement. As I ponder, it now seems to be half-truth having been away for almost 10 years- having studied and worked in Metro Manila and coming home only on Christmas breaks and a few weeks of summer vacation. But I said to myself, “I am home now,” having decided to come home and stay while finishing my graduate thesis (although I’d still fly to Manila from time to time).
I know, deep in my heart, I will always be a true-blue Bol-anon. But having been away for quite some time has cut me off from the community. I’ve even called this stage, “Alienation”. Things have changed. People have changed. They have come and gone. And my usual sentimental me declared my self- “alone and friendless.”
I know that it will take time to reestablish ties. But I see the opportunity to rediscover myself as a member of a community where everybody is connected to everybody in one way or another (think of the virtual Friendster page you have- only this is real!). Ours is a community where one can trace each other’s lineage or locate each other’s hometown through one’s surname or through one’s mere intonation of voice. Ours is a community so small that going to the mall or eating at McDonald’s means bumping into relatives, friends, old teachers and old flames. In fact, so small that riding a tricycle in the city needs only a landmark- a building or someone else’s house- to get to one’s destination. And even smaller that sending letters to folks in the towns needs no LBC but can be through a bus driver who can drop your letters on time. Yes, it’s time for me to rekindle old ties and develop new ones and become part of the community once more.
For starters, I’ve recently come to reconnect myself to a group of budding writers, the KAKA (short for Kaliwat ni Karyapa). Karyapa was a Boholano babaylan and the first recorded poet/scribe in Philippine history. Also, kaka in Bisaya means spider. Thus, KAKA- weavers of dreams, castles and lives. I haven’t been with the group in years and I was surprised to learn that the group is still burning with its love for the words, for the Balak or the Bol-anong Binisaya in particular. We used to hold poetry readings among ourselves and every now and then hold workshops with the well-known Bol-anon writers, Marjorie Evasco and Merlie Alunan. Last July, during the Sandugo Celebration, we held a literary arts workshop for campus writers. We also held an event hailed as “Balut, Beer ug Balak” wherein people from all walks of life were welcome to pour out their love for the Bol-anong Binisaya. Some came with their works ready, some came blurting out passionate words extemporaneously in exchange for a San Miguel and balut.
KAKA, is indirectly connected with Bahandi, a group of visual artists who are also known for their poetry and prose in Bol-anong Binisaya. This group is composed of established and award-winning writers. Once in awhile, the group would meet and share their thoughts and friendship with our group. KAKA, being under the umbrella of the Bohol Center for Culture and Arts Development, is also somehow connected with a group of visual artists (which is in a need for a permanent name). KAKA, having visual artists as “adopted” members to the group, would give full support to the artists by gracing their exhibits and other events and the latter would return the favor. One friend called it, “Arts Fusion”.
It is heartwarming to rollback time. As a kid, I’ve been to summer art classes and exhibits under Mrs. Nene Lungay, an experienced painter and teacher. She and Napoleon Abueva studied under the famous Fernando Amorsolo at the UP. I never really get into drawing and painting though while some of the more creative students have now established themselves as painters and teachers, too. Tagbilaran City by summer has little children scribbling and painting here and there. In recent years, Napoleon Abueva, the National Artist for Sculpture and commonly known as Manong Billy, would come home to Bohol and hold his own summer arts workshop on sculpture.
Recently, a friend who’s an artist himself talked about putting up a camera club, a film arts club or a book club. I’m pretty on the go for these. And if things would push through, I’d be most happy.
As I write tracing these groups in my life, I’ve come to realize that living in a community doesn’t only mean living in a space you call your home, your subdivision or your hometown. Yes, real living is having a community of people who shares your interests, your values and beliefs in life. Yes, real living means knowing your neighbors, having friends and a group you call your own.
As I end this article, I’ve made some mental notes on what to do next since I’ve already gone down to the beach port a kilometer away from our house to take shots of the sunset and reconnect my ties with the folks selling camote, puso (rice packed and cooked in woven coconut leaves), tuba and kuja (big clams). Next I would go around the city…to the town plaza, to the malls, to the market, to my old school and hope to bump into old faces and build my community once more.
Yes, Bohol, I’m finally home!
