In my hometown Guinayangan, the closest thing to McDonald's that my girls could get into is this van outlet of Big Mak. A local burger joint brand they definitely ignore in the city with ample favorite choices around.










unpopular brand of softdrink is also being sold here











But here in Guinayangan, this one became a favorite hang-out of burger youngsters.










Also becoming my girls' favorite tag along car snacks while on a road trip in this side of the Philippines .





would this pass for a product ad?






When brand is not an option, do you have to be choosy? In fairness, I took a bite of Kyla's footlong cheesedog and it was pretty tasty. Pretty cheap too!


story by: Mylene Concepcion
repost from: My 3rd & 7th Sense

We spent Christmas at my hometown . Holidays in Manila (I bet in any city for that matter..) are
hectic and stressful as the city quite is.. everyday of the year.

I reckon, my family deserves a year ender getaway in a quiet, quaint and lovely town such as Guinayangan. Always, we try to spend the holidays there as much as we could.















Aside from the charm of the place, spending time with my father entices each of our homecoming. The girls heart Papa Taling.









All laid back and sweetness, we were all pampered with love_ no pretentions , just pure essense of Christmas.



Truly a silent night yet one merry christmas :D


:by Mylene Concepcion
Repost From Monik Moments

Before the first foggy day of December, we always had a busy day looking for fine mangroves branchlet sprouting from its crowning canopy, to prune it down and remove its leaves as well. DENR probably may hate me for writing this, but I will assure them we never harmed any juvenile fish lurking around its roots because we never touch its bole, hence still could grow. Where young fish dwells here before going to deep open water. Yes a Christmas tree from mangrove gnarly branches.

I would probably again commented with this for my age as mockery. Because this tradition is never practiced anymore by my kababaryo. I’m sorry for I’m too distant to notice the dying of a quaint traditions. But who cares about my age. Im a fine wine, ages with too much memory, with a suave taste for those who can relate.

It’s funny that Manlayo has a traditional boundary never culturally transferred to its nearby Barangay of Guinayangan Quezon, The way we spend Christmas is utterly unique and diversity of our small culture afar from the neighboring barrio. It was probably attributed to our being swampy and watery ground inhabitants.

I may deal with other unique traits that we have, so you can relate, but I will gladly have this mangrove Christmas tree as a context of my recollections. From first grader to six I would always have the initiative of garnering different mangrove branches to selectively pick the best closed to symmetry for our school Christmas tree décor. Often times we couldn’t achieve a perfect symmetry to resemble a pine tree, so we do grafting and budding of branches to attain the closeness to it.

After acquiring a nod from my teacher for its bare appearance, we started articulately wrapping it with any materials based on our conceptual design. The most used design was to wrap it with aluminum foils, others with ruffles of tassel using Japanese paper(papel de japon) theme with their own color. The most used was white to make it look like a snowy pine tree. Aluminum foils are the cheapest to gather and extract if from empty cigarette pack. Starting every November we were collecting cigarette foils to accommodate enough wrapping materials to cover the mangrove Christmas tree. The gnarly the tree, the more branchlet it has the more wrapping needed. After adequately satisfies our wrapping material needs, it’s time for us to make a homemade paste or glue to fasten each foil as ruffles of leaves. For about 2 weeks every extra hour of vacant class, girls were all wrapping it up while we were assisting them curling the edge of the foil by running a pen to its edge while holding the sheets firmly to achieved wavy end, then cutting them with thin strips just like a comb.

Finally when wrapping was over, garlands follows then nosegays of poinsettia and final touch of scattering all dangling ornaments to accent the Christmas tree. Out of excess foils we used to create a star that will be put at the peak of the tree that symbolizes the star that shone the sacred manger. The Christmas lights beat all the accents that there were. It gently flashed and reflected to foil surfaces scattering all the lights radiated to our classroom.

Then gifts of different wrapping and sizes filled up its based. The funny thing I remember when I was a kid was receiving a gift other than sour ball(I forgot the brand) and chocolate pretzels was a winner! You can’t blame us for we are very poor and we value food as memorable gifts. Satisfying our oozing moment when we see apples and chocolates every Christmas.

When you were a kid, no matter how big and small, expensive or not, you won’t forget your first received gift. Mine was a pen(Bic brand) from my childhood crush yet I have never been expressed that feelings. When everything was first, it is memorable.

When I was six it’s my first time to roam around during Christmas , house to house to ask for a penny or any gifts that they may gave. Well I rather prepared penny than gifts. I remember my neighbor Mang Mente Dimaala laying down all peso coins edge to edge on their mahjong table as a dispenser of gifts to kids asking for Christmas presents. The rules were simple, using your only one either hands grabbing the coins from the get-go. You will be amazed that grabbing those pennies were not an easy task, for the coin edges are reacting forces on each other and you would end up just a peso or two on your palm. Hmm pretty clever Mang Mente. For every kid I have been noticing it, and my mind couldn’t help but to devise a plan. While I was looking to my sticky palm from eating Pretzels I had a brilliant Idea to take advantage of it. I carefully and thoroughly licked my palm to make a natural adhesives and Voila! I get the most coin probably 10 to 20 pesos from the get-go. And so my fellow kids followed they were all like cats licking their paws. Mang Mente noticed the tricks and we were silenced by his clever counter act. He put a detergent soap and a dipper(tabo) before grabbing a coin. Nevertheless I had my biggest share.

Christmas is a Christian tradition no matter how poor you are, you will be blessed by the joy it brings. Every year if you are a kid it would be your happiest day . You would regret passing the day with a frown in your face. From candies, toys and gadgets gift giving tradition. You can’t help but wonder how those small things before made you happy. The irony of both successful grown man and not so accomplished people that you couldn’t even put a smile in their face during Christmas. For me that candy or coins then perhaps become now my Digital CANON EOS SLR camera gift for my self that it puts a smile on my face the whole season round.

Too bad,sudden glimpses of my childhood can no longer be photographs with that fine and sophisticated camera nor happy days of my childhood be remember with the recollection of that old traditions. Because all those things died long before and it has stopped unnoticed.

Today,how easy is it to buy a finished plastic Christmas tree in Divisoria or nearby city to ease your burden in preparing a DYI Christmas tree. Cheaper but not painstaking tree. For 30 minutes you can erect a Christmas tree without any help, another couple of hours accenting it with garlands and dangles.

Yes its true, our mangrove Christmas tree dried up but its spirit lives on to once my fellow kids, they will give me a smile and a laugh mentioning this write ups again. To this age, I contemplated things in life are pretty much the same when we were kids. It’s things on all of us that go differently, values and expensiveness of things we like. Christmas Spirit is there but you are no longer part of it. Its ourselves that keep us apart from the rest. Set aside your enviousness, materialism, and pity of being without those. After all it’s Christmas no matter how you hate it, its tradition will lives on.

:by Cornelio Cenizal
-repost from Ang Tanglaw Ng Manlayo

I had been accustomed of chopping sounds of “daras” (adze axe) waking up every morning during the 80s. But on a particular August morning of 81 it’s a different story. I have to make sure the progress of something at the boat yard of Mang Junior Egay, where those days, he’s the most in demand boat smith. Since it was started I have been ensuing the making of our fourth boat. Three boats of us were already been wafting the Ragay Gulf namely M/B Cenizal, M/B King Con-Con M/B Contessa . That time we have a nameless boat nearing its completion. I couldn’t wait for it to be finished. Not just the launching but I was also delighted to know what would be the name for her. Even though boats and ships gender are feminine but name of it, can be neutral. I was hoping that my father could name the new boat to me. In Manlayo if your name was use in a boat, it is a prestige that your fellow will bring you accolades of prides too few were having. It’s a namesake of your proud well-being. The patronymic name of our first boat bears all of my sibling’s joy of having it their own. But mine was different I want to have series name of my own.


Sketches of our fishing boats -- sketches by Nell Cenizal

Every afternoon before heading to play, my cousins and friends always had a glance and quick visit at the progress. My cousin Chris was always teasing and ridiculing me by muttering something that I clearly understand without hearing those. He was keeps on insisting a name source for the boat not from me. When I was a kid my name was Con Con I don’t know why it’s lost when I grew up. At my teenage my name was Corne, not a classy one but it seems to match with my personality that I hate so much growing with it. Today I hate using those. “Ano kaya ipapangalan dito, King Con Con II kaya?” The rhetoric question of my cousin sank in my mind and it has coveted me to urge my father not to name her to my youngest sister Teresa.


A typical Manlayo boat yard

Every time I finished my afternoon class I headed straight to boatyard and insistently asked something from Mang Junior. “Mang Junior Tapos na ang unahang subo(bow keel) at huling subo(stern keel) eh di parka(hull) na bukas? Dapat matapos na agad ito!.” I was really too importunate asking too many questions to him. I could see his unhappy face answering my stickler’s behavior. Probably because I might have interrupting him while using “Daras” chopping the surface of bow keel while shaping the “chine”. It’s a delicate task for a boat smith. Boat’s chine, of all the boat’s accent, presumably it is where a boat smith put his signature work. It’s the most painstaking part of the boat that makes a name for him that keeps him apart from all the rest. That time, I recall a handful of boat smiths competing for almost every quarter a new boat were launched.

For that particular boat my father still has chosen him. I couldn’t have to agree more. He was really a fine craftsman, my fellow Manlayohin could attest how good he was. Among he produced were very popular, fast and sleek boats. Because of his unique boat design, boat’s speed gliding ability, has never been outperformed by others. So I understand him, though I wasn’t quenched for the info I was too eager to know.

Then new boat was”Sinampaloc” type, as they called it, a boat design derived from Cavitenos’ outrigger canoe. About 10 meters long and 1.5m wide. It will be propelled by a 16-Horse power gasoline two-stroke engine made by Briggs and Stratton. Its bow and stern were chamfered that shaped like a tamarind fruit’s concave tip. Without even asking him I saw where the progress at. The “Ligason”(boat side framings for hull) were all align and in placed. Mang Junior was just carefully woodworked with router bit traversing laterally on 2” by 6” timber. That would become the gunwale or rails and hold “ligason” in place. I was too eager to see the placement of outer shell hull not because it’s nearing completion, but the impelling needs of its name. Plating would still take a while before the freeboard will be ready for painting. Urges were getting high I couldn’t hide my feeling imagining my name written above the waterline. Grandest font of Gothic would twist and twirl, that usually use by painter like Kuya Rodel Canoy. Besides Mang Junior, Kuya Rodel was the most sought-after guy before launching a boat. He has a unique technique on using baroque fonts that I couldn’t figure out what calligraphy he was using. I admired how he stroke paintbrush with neat precisions on newly constructed boat with hull painted as white as pearl. I was confounded by what royal salutation I might use, Prince or King. His style of creating a crown on the first letter of royal prefix added more interest on insisting my name.


showing typical hull framing - Ligason in Tagalog term

I was lucky, one fine morning and I saw him painting another boat near the shore. While he was mixing some paint, and stirring some color tinting, I have thought that he was still preparing, It’s the best time to ask since he was not that busy and I could pause him for a while.—“Kuya Rodel? Do you have an idea what our new boat’s name is? Did my father tell you the name? Is it Con con 2? Is it Prince or King?” Kuya Rodel couldn’t grasp how many question I had. He just replied I don’t know! I don’t know which questions will I answer, but I think your father hasn’t decided yet. Why?” You have 3 boats it was named to your Family, the other one is yours and the third one to you and your sister Tessa. Yeah you may be right it could be Con Con 2″ as he then continued doing the painting. I waved goodbye to him, so as not to disturb him. Wow! That was awesome! Even kuya Rodel suggested, this is great! While I was several paces away, I turned to him and assured a final advice. “Kuya pag tinanong na ni Tatay sabihin mo mas maganda kung King Con Con 2 ha?” Sige! Sige!” kuya Rodel answered – probably in accord just to keep me away.

As I passed our newly constructed boat, putty has been scraped all over its hull; I knew that by tomorrow it would be plane by sandpaper. Then hull will be painted by white at the freeboard and maroon at the waterline through the draft. I really couldn’t wait to know the name of that boat. I must! I really must!

That night during our dinner, I finally had the courage to ask my father what it will be. Before my father left the table I asked him casually. “Father when will be the name of our boat be painted? Did Kuya Rodel advise you what the best name is? I think he may have a good idea for its name. Don’t you think?”. He answered “No I haven’t spoken with him yet, but you mother and I had already decided a name”… Really!! Oh that was good what is it? My sister Teresa immediately swallowed her food and asked her too. “OO nga what is it?” My eyes grow big as we were waiting for answer. My father looked at my mother as if she was asking as to whether to tell us or not (keep us from enviously hate each other) so my mother clear her throat as if she would be the one discussing the name. “You see, we have 3 boats, as you already knew, it was name to our family, the second is from you Con Con and third one is your both name combination. If I were to ask you what name it will be? “I retorted of course King Concon 2 or Prince Concon 2!. My sister Tessa couldn’t suggest for she barely can read and write she was just 6 yrs old (it’s my lucky day!) My sister uttered “Princess Maria Teresa”! Huh how did she do that! And then quarrel of words came. No, it’s very long I said. To add more dissension I teased her. Oh yeah! Can you spell that to kuya Rodel? sige nga! –Nanay will just tell him easy as that! She answered. Huh! Oh no. She knew the way! I’m going to lose. Finally my mother stops us from quarrelling and delivered the verdict. We decided the name be Princess Maria Teresa because you already had your sole name on one of our boat. It’s time that your sister has its own name on this one. I cried from the impending frustration. My mother then calmed me with her comforting words–Just pray that fishing will be abundant and we will build another one. And what will be the name then? Of course your wish “King Con Con 2” as promised. Sobbing, but clearly my mother grasped my assertion. I think it’s pretty fair to name it to her. It’s okay for me, “but don’t you think it’s too long? Kuya Rodel might charge as high writing those letters you know?” I riposted. Don’t you worry your father and I had figured it out. To omit the Princess prefix to lessen the lettering cost. I saw my little sister was clapping so heavily spattering all grain of rice sticking to her hands and so happy about the decision. She was sticking out her tongue while taunting me, by gesturing her hands like horns.

The following day we attended mass and went to market afterwards. Before that lunch I saw the new boat. My sister and I were eager to see the name of her. Wow! She is a beauty. From stem to stern a sleek boat ready to hit the water. The name, look at the name! Kuya Rodel you really are an artist. Nice Font. Nice color too, a tone of green as bamboo were the theme of the name. It was finely scaled with the freeboard height. I was amazed and once again forget the frustration from losing the naming contest.


Old Photograph of our boat f/b Maria Teresa with my father - restoration by Nell Cenizal

At her maiden voyage, a priest attended the blessing of the new boat. After the priest sprinkled the holy water, coins and candies were showered as good luck. It was one of my happiest days more so when she was tested for seaworthiness. My father steered the boat away from the beach and circled the Manlayo shoreline. Sea breeze gently flows to my smiling face while clenching at her mast. Mang Junior is really a master of his craft. The boat gently wake and rip the wave as it splashed to her bow. You couldn’t even feel the waves were shaking it. As my siblings and I enjoy the scenery offshore, it was my first time seeing the contour of mountain ranges overlooking from the sea. The peninsula view grows bigger as we waft further away. I admittedly forgot my frustrations and turn to my father and ask him. Who will be going to man this boat for fishing? Is he good? Because, I’m looking forward to see Con Con 2 from its proceeds. My father smiled and answered me –It’s your kuya Zalde.

Four years had gone by; fishing scarcity had made my father downsized our fishing business by selling other boats. Past typhoons have destroyed the other one leaving us with one boat at hand – our Princess Ma. Teresa. Before my high school, fishing almost declined to depletion and eventually we sold the last boat. Months passed and our economic condition grows more depressing. My father finally gave up our second house adjacent to the boatyard and swapped it with a new boat and 5,000 pesos of cash. Though we were second owner of the boat acquired from Mr. Rolly Manalo name F/B Che Che. My maturity and willingness to help my family to recover, my sister and I never argue anymore for owning the name. It’s also because we had a new sister and for sure was more entitled for the name of it. F/B Lady Bernadette, the boat design was slightly similar to M/B Con Con. Though her name was too long again I never had second thought of giving her right getting its name from our new born sister.


Daras (Adze Axe in English term) Sepia photo by Nell Cenizal

Year 2008 I saw Mang Junior once again. He still could recognize me. I ask him if he still making boats. He said, time slips away and worst economy hit us pretty good, so almost monthly my task had been repairing damage boat due to typhoons. At least it keeps me busy. It’s just the grey hair that changed on him. I missed how he swing Daras axe curving the keel. I remember his precision those days it’s really mind boggling. I remember his joke when I was kid, how he proudly displayed his precision, that he could shave human hair using adze axe without touching your scalp. I remember learning a lot from him from naming the tools and how it is called in English. I actually named all of them from hammer, drills, and chisel to planer. He name-puzzled me once when I was a kid, He asked me to translate two carpentry tools he couldn’t name. The “hulog” and “daras”, fortunately I’m up to challenge (and still, I recall it). So, that day when I saw him again, He was surprised that my greeting was — Plumb bob or plummet and Adze axe!! He was puzzled he couldn’t figure out what I’m saying. I told him it’s the English terms for hulog and daras. He laughed and amazed that I still never gave up after a score year. Shhh! don’t tell him about Google.


Plumb Bob or Plummet - English term for "hulog"

He briefly stopped for a while and squatted with me near the fish-curing rows. I told him I never became Naval Architect, my long dream of designing yachts and ships where never happened and gave up with it. So what do you become then? Ah just nothing at least we can chit chat! Right? He laughs and glanced to my face as if he was digging every memory he had, recalling me stickling him doing our fourth boat.

Today, the end of “Great Fish Race” era was long gone. Fishing as expected declined to eradication down to small fishing activity. The glory days of Manlayohin were vanished. No coins and candies have been showered. No rollers have been readied to launch a boat for maiden voyage. No boats are being launched every quarter. No new name has been battled about, nor a boat in construction. Those memories were vanished and for sure will be gone for good. Where are the mercies of God? Where is His promised that will lavish us with the abundance of fish from the rituals of boats blessings? I keep wondering who drives fishing scarcity is it us? Or, God is punishing us? Writing this story has made the name our boat as my context of my long forgotten memory of its abundance.

I couldn’t recall anymore how the old shore looked like. Every year, I return to my root, wishing I could see berthing of boat side by side, outrigger to outrigger of every boat. Ironically I have been seeing dilapidating boats turn upside down capsize by previous storms. My uncle exaggerated those days that you could walk from Manlayo to Poblacion by walking from boat to boat’s outriggers without touching the water.

Different outcome of economic instability brought my long dream of having my name again in a boat -a thing of hopeless kid’s dream. I hope someday I can grow old and sail my own boat and name it to my ever dream “King Concon II”

:by Cornelio Cenizal

I was awakened by noises at my place down the hall, though muffled, I heard raspy voices. I rushed the door to advise them to move away farther from the wall for I was a day sleepless. Out and grabbed my slipper and went to the source of the noise. It was kids from my neighbours. They were arguing about something. With my sleepy mood sluggishly noticed they were holding comics, a very colourful one, published by Marvel perhaps. Comics caught my eyes and indefinitely zipped my lips to seal the words that I was going to tell them. Instead of hushing them I slumped, seated down and jointly flipped with them as if I am with their age. Who can resist drawings and art works appreciation if you were kids who grew up reading those?



Aliwan Komiks -Courtesy of GASI

I smelled the sheets and sniffed it like grading a wine (hmmn). One psychologist said smell is one of the evocative memory infuser. The inks and paper really have unexplained mixture of scents that would dwell in your memories as peg of something you had experienced. Hmmmm…Holiday Komiks, Aliwan Komiks, TSS, Shockers, Pioneer,Precious,Kilabot and of course Pilipino Komiks (No? you still can’t remember?). How about Jim Fernandez, Mar T. Santana, Vincent Kua Jr., Pablo Gomez, Vic Poblete and Elena Patron? Okay, if not, you really are not of my age category. How about Mars Ravelo and Carlo J. Caparas? There you go, you can relate don’t you?, though Mars Ravelo is older than writers I just used for inkling above (yes older than my father). Probably because Mars Ravelo and Carlo J. Caparas’ immortal novels made their way to Philippine TV series and movies recently. Komiks is simply the English word “comics”, probably adapted to fit the orthography of Tagalog. I was one of the lucky persons who have seen the fruits of the finest publications like the “GASI”, “ATLAS” and more.
Forgive my age, some of the names I knew doesn’t ring a bell in your ears especially those who are grown up with the computers and internet. But, I wouldn’t trade my growing up years for we also have rich memories in comics. Rich as what you have- and the new “you brag about” Manga classics and Marvel comics. Manga is just as old as Komiks I should say, up to this day, young people still addicted to anime and Manga comics which rooted from the art of comics.



Planet Opdi Eyps - Roni Santiago 1979

Sundays of the 80s were like days of launching Sony PSP portable consoles in Japan, the enthusiasm was the same of that level. Why? Funny Komiks and Holiday komiks were coming (Yoo-hoo!)Woot woot! Aling Pilar(1) yelled at us not to crowd the window sill of her store as we crammed for a queue. I like Funny Komiks it was one of my favorites not because it is the only laminated paperback issue, it’s because of Tomas and Kulas (though a parody of Tom and Jerry), Superkat, the stubborn kid NikNok and the famous “Planet Opdi Eyps”. More also to “Devil Car” – the front runner story of Holiday Komiks by Vic Poblete (probably influenced by movie “The Hearse”) it was paired with finest illustration of Lan Medina teamed with contributing artist like Karl Comendador. Funny Komiks brought fine upbringing to my young mind those days. I was inspired by superkat hero, combating villains that really expressed heroism as a noble virtue. The Matsutsu and Bardagul duo of Planet Opdi Eyps, that sometimes frustrate you when you see the page like “Ipagpaumanhin nyo po ang kadahilanan na ang Planet Opdi Eyps ay sa susunod na Linggo na lamang ilalathala” (Yaikks). “A week of waiting and writer can just hang us to nothing (hump!)”. Renting of comics cost 35 to 50 centavos a piece by reading it at the stand. At night it cost 75 cents by taking it home. Aling Pilar’s daughter Ate Susan(2) would always string two lengthy thin braided ropes to hang and separately itemized the old and the new arrival issues. The first layer stashed the old one and the highest level as for newest issues. I used to hate Ate Susan for hanging the frequent readable komiks way beyond my reach. I hated my height, and wished I could be taller; I have always lost the grabbing competitions on getting the newest komiks on display. Upon arrival of issues, Ate Susan has always ridiculed us by halting the rent queue. It’s because of cardboard layering needed to be sewn with ridge through the centrefold to tighten the binding which were just staplers. Finally after half an hour, she had finished it and we were done drooling with our saliva to read it. The frustrating part was, if the first reader of the copy was my arrogant friend Romano. He was a very good example of a spoiler, who telltales what had happened to Armageddon car when it was hit by the possessed Devil Car. Spoiling it just like watching a replay movie where plot is already heard. So I just shut my ear not to hear him. Sometimes I retaliated by telling them a newer stories about Zuma (snake freak Man) when I luckily grabbed the Aliwan and Pioneer at its pristine issues from my uncle (he’stall and could get easily to unreachable comics stand).



Holiday comics- Courtesy of GASI Graphic Arts Service, Inc.

It was the wonderful years of my life. Imaginations sometimes are larger than life. I can tell you, even the 80s komiks’ stories can’t be produce by Philippine Cinema to properly depicts the story that conveyed by the writers. However our mind those days could perceive and imagine what those stories were about. Figure drawings and symbols sometimes were easily grasped even the intensity of what illustrator wanted us to think. Ate Susan usually knocks on our door early in the morning to collect our borrowed komiks because somebody was on queues waiting to rent them. I strongly disagree that Komiks could pollute our mind, where parents those days were telling us. Living in a small town with an inadequate public library, I recall the absence of encyclopaedias. We turned all of us to “komiks” as research page. When my classmates had assignments that we couldn’t illustrate, we just cut and paste from Komiks pages with appropriate illustration as what our assignments described. Just wait for Ate Susan to scold us and let our parents bought the komiks for good (You already knew why).
I learned a lot from Komiks besides interactive conversation readings. You will learn also to draw from komiks. Were all things I had loved to do from tracing the hard-to-copy one and carbon-copy the easiest one.. My better sketching ability then became my hobby today probably because of loved to komiks. Often times we mingled and criticized as well as praised some of the writer’s story. There were times we were betting for the next plot that would be published on the following week and we brainstormed our critical opinions for the next issues. Remember the clause like … “Abangan ang Susunod na Kabanata” and …”May Karugtong…” When you were hung by a thread with story and clause like that. There was no difference if you’re watching TV series like “Heroes”, “Lost” and today’s suspense. It is indescribable. Months had passed and my sister Aileen competed with the same rentals hence made me not to queue anymore (Nice!)
So I went back to my room and waved goodbye to noisy kids, letting them to shout to what level they want.”Bye buddies easy on flipping. Use saliva!” -I said (gesturing my finger damping by it)
Walking back to my door, I suddenly asked myself, “What happened to those “Kinalakihan kong Komiks? So here I am, injecting something to Blogosphere. Thank you, Mr. Google… “Bing Bam Bung” (Famous Larry Alcala komiks’ series – I just used it as incantation) and article is done. I was recently aware that komiks still exists and also there is a contemporary way on luring readers – “web comics” for you to read. See http://www.webkomiks.com/.
Continuing my web surfing to get excerpts as well as confirmed my rusty memories about those writers and illustrators, wow! They are blogging (nope! not that they are using web that makes me amazed) It’s because I see them in pictures. There were just vague names for me they were older but still with humorous attitude. They were blogging and telling about their masterpiece, what had inspired them and what had made them written such stories. These people were my once admired citizens. I remember, I have dreamed of becoming like them. When I was on my 4th Grade, the one I admired was Vincent Kua Jr. I like his style on horror genre’, reminds me of Tim Burton’s style of storytelling and character illustrations of course. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, watch “Corpse Bride” and read two of Vincent’s masterpiece the “Gallery of Terror” and “3 Minutes of Horror” any similarity? You bet there is! Take note it was illustrated by Vincent Kua Jr during 80s. By the way “Pokwang” certainly got his moniker or screen name from Vincent’s “magnum opus”-Pokwang. You know what? Pokwang the comedian looked better similar to Liborea McCormick also one of Vincent’s finest comedy story. Though he died last October 2005, I’m his fan now in Facebook. I am still looking for other writers, hoping there are still alive or better yet can still use Facebook so I can be a fan of them. For each one I will find, I will post this write-ups and a simple message where I have been keeping it till now. The words are… “THANK YOU!!!””THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR FILLING UP MY YOUNGER YEARS!!”

-by Cornelio Cenizal

(1) Pilar Dimaala – our neighbor in Manlayo still alive today and with her Grocery Sari Sari Store.
(2) Susan Dimaala – youngest daughter of Aling Pilar, successor of her business.

Works Cited
Cruz, J. Dela. Web Komiks Your Pinoy Komiks Portal. (accessed October 7, 2009).
Komiklopedia. December 27, 2007. (accessed October 7, 2009).
Magic, Black. Vic J. Poblete’s Devil Car. October 2005. (accessed October 7, 2009).
Valiente, Randy. Vincent Kua Jr. Official Site. (accessed October 7, 2009).
Santiago, Roni. “Planet Opdi Eyps.” Pilipino Funny Komiks. 1979.

Boñon 4 bags,Carandang 2 bags, Canoy 3 bags, Cenizal 2 bags and 3 sacks of pebbles. .. And names had been calling and assemble everyone by my teacher till it ended with names in Z. What were those for, you may be puzzled… An inch a day that’s our mission! During the mid 80s at Manlayo-Calimpac Elementary School now Don Guillermo Elementary School. A month ago of that day, I had been overhearing the voice of our principal thru PA system the late Generosa Lomarquez addressing the problem before that mission came to fruition.



I remember her on a PTA meeting calling for cooperation of the parents and students who were coastal settlers of Manlayo. During those days, we still lived at the adjacent fences of our school, coastal side facing east. During high tide our classrooms were always deluge by sea water overflowing from creek through the swamp nearby. Ebbing of such magnitude our school suffered from salt water flooding, destroyed some of our books including our artworks stored in less elevated cabinets. We locally called that inundation “Taib” as in high tide. Mrs. Josefina Arca and Mrs. Lita Maghirang rooms, my teachers at that time, where the one initially affected by the flooding. Weeks after the whole school submerge by the sea water, and it’s like the whole school grounds were estuaries of Ragay gulf. Every student gets wet so that they could come to school.

"Taib" has never been a hassle for me. I make the salt marsh's brackish water as a play pool. There were times I just stripped and dived right there besides classrooms building, where water were almost neck-deep. During those days, we test our toy sail boats (cut and shaped from Styro foam with canvas or plastic cellophane as sails) and we raced like in America’s Cup. That was hasty fun.

The faculties suddenly have noticed that it was not good for us. We were left behind by other school who had already been overtaken us with some lessons we were supposed to be in.
I recalled one day when a memo came. I read it loudly in front of the school with my uniform soaking wet from salt water flood. Overall, the school mission was to cover the low level sections particularly the ground beside our classroom where we play a lot. The goal was an inch a day of sand fillings above the current height. Mr.Capule our Agriculture teacher measures it with a deficiency of 1 yard high. So if we could make an inch a day we would have finished it in 2 to 3 months excluding the day without classes.



Manlayo Elementary School inundation overlay

Day one, everybody was impressed with the progress. We almost reached 2 inches mark. By the way I forgot to mention an attachment of that memo, there will be additional extracurricular merits for the section class with the most number of sand and pebbles (rock on!) .Most of the time, we had weekly citations of the most number of sand bags donated. More often than not I was always top of the lists. No I wasn't cheating. It’s just that I lived nearby, about 2 minute walk from the school. So you already have an idea how I got the most sands to dump. Weeks passed, it seems we all endured the chores with the smiles and burst on the hands of course. Ms. Generosa Lomarquez, with her willingness to turn that daunting ordeal to educational one, she genially advised her teachers to do something coherent with the chores –Mathematics (brilliant idea!). She even revised the verbal problem solving by making number of bags as examples on mathematics lessons. Making it fun and educational so as ignoring the sweating we had. The ground we are reclaiming became our giant math board. Pebbles became our imaginary tally marks. After all mathematical concept came from our old ancestors using as such as basic tools for counting. It became extracurricular competition. My classmate Nestor Ervas with the revered dream to make it at top of the merits' list. He was taking up the Ante’ by filling up his pocket with sand and pebble and had it made to be counted.


Back two weeks ago to the present while I was cooking for dinner and watching news at the same time. I faintly heard words like teachers and student story over the news. So I walked to the living room and heed to the story. SECS are now abolishing teacher’s use of light corporal punishment likes “caning” shouting or yelling to students, categorizing it now as unlawful. My reaction to news is simply not overwhelming since I grew up witnessing and experienced some of it. But I do agree in some point, in reality it has to be, considering it’s painful and humiliating for the punished one. But neither had I condemned teachers. Human whatever his age do perform willingly under pressure. Continuing my watching over the news, the chores like “sand and pebbles“we did those days are no longer allowed. On the contrary, I do understand the Faculty of those days. Instead of waiting for the Ministry of Education to act (considering the corruption during Marcos days). We did it by ourselves and so proud of what we have learned in arithmetic, better than just reading the books. What's more, we prevented the flooding, thinking it could never be done. School superintendent came and cited our efforts, though I missed my toy-sailboat racing and the swimming of course. But I said to myself "its better now at least I don’t have to walk thru the flood just to attend class".


Manlayo Today, without the flooding

Two years after construction of the new school classrooms finally facilitated. DECS had reclaimed the muddy area with a new ground level. The contribution we had for 3 months were done by the Pay Loaders and Bulldozer for almost just a day. (Sigh) I had myself been watching it on our window day after day when I was a kid. Though new graded soil over-topped the sand and pebbles we sweated, it became the foundation of the initial reclamation. Looking back those days we really have to laugh but mostly being proud of ourselves. I realized how desperate we were despite the fact we’re so fortunate in having such intuitive arithmetic class session. You may comment and ask if it is true? Yes it happened ladies and gentlemen we were like Dutch people saving Netherlands from sinking.

This article has been in my blog's draft page for quite a while, as my habit of choosing the right words and grammar before publishing it (what a shame). Strangely though, two weeks before the Ondoy tragedy(I can provide the draft's time stamp if needed).It's very untimely that I have made flooding improperly discussed as auspiciously funny, since typhoon Ondoy(Ketsana) brought enormous tears to most of our "kababayan" . Lately, I was contemplating that publishing it could alleviate the depressed feeling of those who were affected (I hoped). First of all I would like to stress out in my story that everybody can be a part of collective team efforts to overcome things as huge as flooding. We were toddlers but we overcome such inundations without problem. Secondly, as people we can overcome desperation and spin it to our advantage (like what our principal did, coherently making fun of our task to educational one). Recollecting such teamwork we did with my schoolmates, it was an "esprit de corp" (-that older people could have shamelessly done). It's ironic that people are trying to be helpful when tragedy has already happened, yet you couldn't oblige them to help you when you were preparing against it. It’s a shameful human nature to show affection to others when people are in suffering yet he cannot show helpful attitude to others when his fellow actually needing one. We feel sorry for their lost but we never sorry when we throw things to drainage and clogged them. We pray for ourselves but we never pray for others. We joyfully rejoice when we are not affected but we feel sorry for victims when we are watching them over the news. We people haven't figured it out; God is trying to make us united on avoiding it much more than tackling the aftermath. Don't be so naive with your sorry feeling watching them. Next time plan ahead and work us a team and overcome the next "Taib" of our life.

-by Cornelio Cenizal

Map Courtesy of Google Earth

Did you grow up in Guinayangan? Particularly in Brgy.Manlayo? I am absolutely sure your parents or elders probably pop you a story with these scary tricks of making you stay at home and not wander around. “Sige! makuha ka dyan ng Sipay”. Huh?! I’m not a usual kid who startled by this stuff.”And what is this Sipay look like huh? What does he likes? (With my hands at my waist taunting my uncle) Provoked, my uncle Felix told me the scary character features of him. How the horrific look of him would frighten us and how he would make us their prey. This "Sipay” usually sneaks, snatch kids who are lurking around and wandered away from home. He has this sack where he usually put these meandered kids before beheading them.

They collect blood of young kids like you (gesturing a hand chopping my head). I was suddenly terrified and my shrewd young mind suddenly rattled by my intuitions. As my Uncle continues… The kids blood… what they do with the blood? I asked interrupting him. “You see? New bridges at Sumulong highway (Calauag Proper) are in constructions and in full swing. Probably, at this time they hunt kids. To strengthen the structures, they use rituals by spilling blood at their columns. That’s why bridges today are stronger. You know the son of Pareng Crispin? He was taken… (I don’t know him actually he probably making vague names to cloud my recognition of his true identity) but I was riveted to the story. I wasn’t terrified, I was petrified!

With my lucid mind to imaginative stories like that, I was elicited to draw out the sketch above from what my mind depicts it that day. I appallingly recall a bearded man with a sack draped with so much blood in it. Suffusing the road with blood spreading over as he dragged the sack full of chopped heads. He had an axe blooded from chopping off poor kids’ heads. I was sleepless for a week. Paranoia has haunted me every time I’ll be away from the house. Every dismissal, at the gate of the school, even a casual bearded man waiting for his child – I was featured him for a 'Sipay”. That was the most traumatic stories I’ve heard. With my unrelenting burst of fears I was even drawn to tell same exaggerated stories to my cousins hoping they could accompany me every time I went home. When travelling away from Quezon with a bus, every time we passed longer bridges I can’t hold my eyes from looking at every rusty columns of it, imagining it as dried blood that was spilled before.

Today I can’t help but think, how such a shammed urban legend had ever deceived me to believe it. But now I know why my uncle did it. I remember from that day on I became a house person. Just two months shy of eight years old, I begun to read books just to spend time in house after school. My high grades in reading comprehensions became the result of my atypical reactions to that spooky “Sipay”. That eerie legend became a contemporary story, retold to generations by generations just to make kids stay at home. I suggest parents should be careful on using such way to kids. It may cause adverse perceptions to their young minds. Hours before writing this I was intrigued to search for it, and I was astonished that many blogs have been mentioned it spawning in all parts of the Philippines with greater write-ups in Cavite areas. That makes sense, considering we were descendants of Caviteños.

I challenge you to try doing that phony storytelling to the kid’s today .For sure, they will retort with goggled info printing the facts that it is untrue. Those days are over, you can’t trick kids today. Those yesteryear’s parents told us stories to make us sleep and stay at home. Ironically, today kids will come to you at the wee hours before bed time telling you bizarre stories that will make you awake all night.

-by Cornelio Cenizal

Illustration by Cornelio Cenizal

On the road to Sariaya, Quezon, this is the view from the back of a jeep with an open back. The bus will stop in Lucena, before heading for Quezon province's southern towns of Guinyangan and Calauag. The ordinary fare means no air-conditioning -- in southern Tagalog lowlands' intense heat and dust. At least passengers will be watching DVDs.

-by Howie Severino

Excerpt From Howie Severino's Blog
Photos Courtesy of Howie Severino's Blog

I hailed from Quezon Province and though I spent more than half of my life away, I never failed to visit my beloved hometown once or twice a year.




The resort is called Sta. Rita Beach Resort. Instead of taking the 30 minutes boat drive, we opted for a land travel. By land?.to an island?, I thought then this must be somekind of a cove if it was accessible by land. Not until after one hour and thirty minutes drive, when we entered the resort through a narrow man made sand bridge that I subconsciously reassessed the place and realized_it was an island indeed!






A long stretch of unending fine sand beach sleeping side by side to a quiet giant body of water was the first hint of the countless charms of the place. Sitting equally silent but pretty were nipa hut cottages,
with the same hues of earth tone colors of the sand





You could either stay in a fresh air, beach front nipa cottage (like the one I stayed with my husband) or in a family villa, with airconditioned rooms and other facilities ( where the rest of my family stayed).



The View deck is one of the highlights of the resort. Going up there was really a challenge, but the rewards were heavenly fulfilling.Taking the hundreds or more stairs going up to the view deck is an experience with a capital G. Lush of greens above would refresh you after every step you take.




Take 50 steps and you would be granted a view of the tail of the island when you look down.





Do your math and brave to add 10 to 15 steps and the view gets even better.






Reaching the top, you could either choose to take a sit and rest first or feast your eyes with the sumptuous view of the whole island, the Ragay Gulf, and the shadows of mountains across the sea.




Going down through a different exit stairs would lead to a hidden part of the island.




Uncanny character of the island reveals in this part. Unlike the main beach, this rocky side is good for snorkeling and a lot more. It is private and a bit secluded from the rest of the island.





...trekking back to the main island.You would surely enjoy the scenic view along the the way.





..swimming until night is a possibility. The water is warm and safe..




...just make sure you get advise from the residents of the island about the safety of the water from itchy jelly fish like this




I forgot the exact name of this edible jelly fish but the man showed us on the spot how he prepared it with his bare hands and ate it raw and fresh. Yum!








How about swimming under this sun protected roof ?