Afternoons in Pamukid

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PERHAPS, I'M JUST LUCKY to have a munchkin for nephew. Let's say it makes everything different. It makes leaving in the morning a little funnier than when we were just three adults in the house. Phone calls are always interrupted by reminders of the much awaited úbong (guess what it means). Arrival in the evening are welcomed with a fanfare of jubilation. That's why the úbong should never, never ever be forgotten; a child will appreciate anything from three pieces of chocolate krinkles to a twenty-peso worth plastic toy to a rubber octopus filled with water. The úbong defines what the family will experience on the night it was given. My sister-my nephew's mom-abhors any úbong that is musical by nature. It means same music-or, yes, noise-playing over and over again until late midnight, until the boy sleeps, tired and exhausted. His sleep would be frequented with dreams and sleep-talking about playtime, other children, toys, and animated movies.

--On Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, however, afternoons are different. There are no úbongs. He expects something else. During these days, I don't have classes that run until after dusk. I go home very early. When I park my motorcycle in front of our home, he knows I'm home by the sheer whirring sound coming from the vehicle. It's tour time.

My nephew, Clyde, has the penchant for beasts of burden like the lalabaw (carabao), cow, and hus (horse), which he happens to see in reality every now and then; and those that he sees only in books, like the yak, donkey, bison and wild buffalo. For this, on those days when I come home early, I tour him around the village to let him see carabaos and cows grazing. It is just wonderful to see a child awestruck by these animals and how that move what they eat and how they react to him watching them.

Actually, the child delights in everything zoological. He exclaims bid! when a bird flies very close. Once, we caught him with a midsized toad in one hand, shouting "Wog! Wog!" Although afraid of insects, he is curious about pinders (spiders), paypay (butteflies), gas-apehr (grasshopper), and ipish! How d'you spell those?!

Last week, in a meadow just outside our subdivision, we discovered what my nephew thereafter called as baby lalabaws. This discovery made us wander farther to where farmers would let the beasts feed on grass, nurse their suckling and refresh themselves in mud holes. A mother carabao who I think was threatened by our presence once ran after us to the delight of the little tyke. Clyde wants-oh, so much-to plunge into one of the holes because he says the animated ogre character Shrek delights bathing in one!

When it's almost dark, when moomoo scare can be used so that we could go home, my nephew bids each of the beast, and the farmers, his new lolos, goodbye. He promises the lalabaws and cows he'll be back to look after them. Then we go home. Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday evenings mean baby talk about beasts-the lalabaws, baby lalabaw, cows and baby cows we've seen. The ungaaahs and moooohs are reverberating, and the images of the sungay, baby lalabaw, and Shrek's mud holes are juxtapositions flashing in our imaginations until the moon is over us and-like on any day-the little boy slowly falls asleep tired and exhausted. This time, no sleep-talks, no dreams of playtime and other children or toys and animated movies.--

Or perhaps, we're just lucky we live in a place where there are still meadows where bovine beings may graze at day, and nocturnal creatures may roam after sunset. We still have the privilege to experience Arguilla's pastoral Nagrebcan where the carabao Labang pulled Baldo's cart to bring home Leon and his Maria whom Arguilla described as "fragrant like a morning when papayas are in bloom."

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I would like to correct a mistake I made in my last column. The editors of Bangraw kan Arte, Literatura asin Kulturang Bikolnon are Marissa Reorizo Casillan, Honesto Pesimo Jr., and Estelito Baylon Jacob. I inadvertently typed in another fellow writer's name, Rizaldy Manrique, instead of Esting. Again, I'd like to encourage everyone to buy and read the newly-launched books: Bagyo sa Oktubre by H. Pesimo, Tigsik by Aida Cirujales, Pagsasatubuanan: Poetikang Bikol by Jose Jason Chancoco, Sayod Kong Sasabihon by Carlos Arejola, and Yudi Man!: Mga osipon para ki Nunuy asin ki Nini by several Bikolano writers and edited by C. Arejola and Lorna Billanes. For details, contact C. Arejola at 09185718616.

Vic Nierva blogs at http://aponihandiong.blogspot.com.