An tao sa bulan

Submitted by Vox Bikol on Sun, 07/26/2009 - 21:01

Is there a man on the moon? On July 20, 1969, there was a man on the Moon. In fact, there were two men on the moon. The first was Neil Armstrong and the second was Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin.

It was a national holiday, I believe. The government then thought everyone should have the chance to witness over the radio the landing on the Moon, with astronauts doing the first moonwalk.

Television had not truly arrived in Naga yet. If it did, most household did not yet have the set. We listened to the radio then. When the words and sounds came through, we were truly shocked that we had sent two of our own to the moon, and now they were talking to us.  The announcer had to intervene to send the relay to us. I am not sure now whose voice it was between the sounds coming from the moon and our gasping for breath as we sat around the Avegon radio, waiting for the moon to fall on us.

We expected for the universe to finally collapse because we were just too great to even tamper with the Moon. We would be full of ourselves then. Even the U.S. had the guts to plant on the moon an American flag. On record though, they found their wits and soon withdraw any statement about ownership of the moon.

Nothing happened though after that. If you could consider this cataclysmic, the first Filipina would win the Miss Universe and her winning would be the topic of conversation between the Earth-based control center and the astronauts. From then on, the Moon did not suffer from the first giant step for mankind but we never recovered from being beauty-pageant crazy.

We - my friends and all - belong to that Age, the Age of Aquarius. The Age of the Moon.  We knew the Universe.  There was no darkness. The moon was in the Seventh House and Jupiter was aligned with Mars. And so the song went. Peace would be guiding the planets and Love would steer the stars. We were in high school, naïve, idealistic, fearless but unknowing what that landing on the Moon would ever bring to our lives.  We just had the songs.

By 1969, Woodstock - the four days of music, peace and love - would totally change our sense of rhythm and change our soul. Our notebooks were filled with drawings of daisies and the "peace" sign. We grew our hair long. We listened to the Grateful Dead and the Credence Clearwater Revival. We danced to songs about getting a little help from our friends. We were aghast when Joe Cocker barreled his way to our sensibilities. We heard for the first time this lithe, little girl with the voice of the world's regrets and sadness. She was Janis Joplin. We would never hear her again for she would die of drug overdose.

Then came Santana. Overnight, the music of our parents moved from the ballroom into the brave new world of Latin beat and Rhythm and Blues and Rock. Our world was loud but seeking harmony and understanding.  Our paths had diverged from those taken by our parents.

The Vietnam War was on and while our generation would never be wounded by that experience the way the young American men and women of that generation did, the year 1969 saw the government sending a huge contingent of doctors, nurses, and engineers and many others to form the so-called Philippine Civic Action Group or PHILCAG. We were part of world violence.

Years and years after, we never used that Man on the Moon to reckon time, to mark the passage of Time. The days and years after the Moon landing were fettered with many events. We would write about the moon in our poems but our generation could never promise the moon to our Beloved. The moon had been touched. The moon had become accessible. The moon had been colonized.

The lesson of colonization was clear: go to a territory and without even asking if there was anyone there, dig a small hole and put in there a marker of ownership. How different was the moon landing from the coming of the Europeans, planting a sign of the Cross and Religion without bothering to ask if the people of that land had a different way of appreciating the Cosmos?

The race to the Moon also lost its poetry. Science was not guiding anymore the search for knowledge; knowledge was being used to serve the technologies of war and destruction.  But we were not bothered. We were dancing to music that accompanied the newfound turbulence in our young bodies. Besides, how did one ignore songs like "Bad Moon Rising?"

It would take some three years, a few months before we got out of high school and innocence, when Martial Law was declared. We soon forgot that our generation was one of those who witnessed for the first time an Earthrise. The moon landing did not cause the moon to become bad.  The moon landing did not bring the bad luck to our country but we knew, during those years, the Moon looked down upon our generation and, wept a bit.