miss u of tacloban

eating at cindy's tacloban, dec 04
her name is ate nela. the name is courtesy of abe. she's multi faceted: letter carrier, telephone operator, telephone directory, pastor's secretary, chef cook, children's mayordoma, kindergartern administrator, sunday school teacher, discipler, cleaner, yaya, confidante, helper, supporter, cheerer, tour guide. but for us, diverse folks from all walks of life, various ages with varied interests- gary, rhea, cheche, edmund, dixon, nanette, arman, banban, willy, pie, gemma, ps zaldy, beth ohaya - she is a friend, an anchorperson, who connects us altogether to a common ground everytime one goes back home to tacloban. and that common ground is ate nela herself. blessed. blessing.

grandma & grandson

scene in urasa while i was walking down the road, back and forth. just finished my grocery shopping. i did not make it to iuj bus at 4:25, so i had to wait for the next bus at 5:32. it's more than an hour of asking what now and where, not minding the ice cold temperature. urasa has only a highway and a highway plus a train station. having taken this scene, the wait and the long walk was worth it.

last hunt

waaaaa at exactly 1:17pm today, ive eaten and consumed my 2nd to the last supply of pork and beans from pinas. or more accurately my beans and beans (where's the pork! where's the pork, mr hunt!). no more hakone, youngstown, bluebay. i am just too excited to eat the last can. but wait, gary says he'll be coming over, so wait. but if he wont come next week, babye to my last hunt's.

college days memoriam 3

written by syrob, the following poem was written during his heydays, maybe 1994. life then was about galleta (a cookie or cracker available in quality bakeshop) and a small round table discussion on girls and cartoons. and we called that fellowship. the group was unofficially called nbj (inbijee: no other but jesus) with isaiah 40:30,31 as its holding verse. only 3 people knew this as u can guess by the initials. there was a plan to produce hand painted t-shirts with our logo (yes we had a logo) printed on it, but the group graduated from college and pursued different careers before the tshirts took off. we usually met at balyuan tower before the sun shone to study God's word (hoookay also girls and cartoons but only over a glass of iced tea in cindy's). since i didnt have a watch that time (it's only now that i got to own a watch- swatch irony, abs, not seiko bought in bombay bazaar zamora- hoookay again i only bought that in 2nd hand shop but hey it's 5000yen), there was a time when i went to balyuan so early that i did spend an hour sleeping in the bench while waiting. those were the days... and gone are those days.

i remember we discussed faith and rewards and we made kuya junie (never mind the family name - gossip, gossip, gossip) as the main character. the scene was in heaven and he was called now to give an account of what he did on earth and present his crowns to the King of kings. he got a stiff neck tho in walking towards the throne because his crowns in head were just too many it was difficult for him to balance. now our turn. and God asked, "where's ur crown?" "here, Lord." "where?" "here." "come here, closer." and He proceeded searching [in our head], like looking for lice.

on faith. it is said that faith as small as a mustard seed could already move mountain. since we could not move the mountain, we just imagined how very small our faith was (and is?). when we walked home after discussion, norman asked: "hey you forgot something!" "what?" he went back to the place and picked up the "faith and crown". how small really...


galleta for the group
(syrob)

"let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another- and all the more as you see the Day approaching." -heb 10:25

pass me one piece
here two for him;
three pieces, four pieces
for the group as we dine.
we are five, aren't we?
take one, crispin, give
the other to joseph.
norman has already two-
i think he gave one to dixon.
what about me, where is mine?
a half will do, i won't
complain.
could we have some more?
#

gospel

boys in bliss, manila, january 2005 three poems written by syrob o. the date is uncertain. maybe written in 1993 or 1994.

when the unbeliever asks

is he Jesus?
why, you didn't tell me.
is he really Jesus?
i'm ignorant.
did he die for me?
i've never known.
does he truly love me, even
death he pursued?
i've got to know!
anybody here tell me, please
about Jesus?
#

when boris asks

do i have the power
to tackle the service?
do i have the strength
to do the mission?
do i have the heart
to obey the command?
what should do i
the night is nigh?
#

when God answers

have faith and simply trust,
only then you can understand.
not by logic, not by your might
but by pray'r you ably stand.
#

college days memoriam 2

flight manila-tacloban dec 22 04 here's one song composed by walter in september 1994, was given to me, forgotten, and nobody even knew this existed. now i only remember the chorus. the original title was "ang ating pastol" but i think it should have been "ang ating pastor." the song is more real to me now than ever before. salamat walter. bring back the glory of the good old days.


ang ating pastor
walter, 1994

ang ating pastor at kaibigang may
hawak na tungkod
siya ang ating gabay sa landas
ng buhay sa bawat sandali---
siya na ating hari at panginoon,
kaya't sa'n ka man naroroon, kaibigan ko
alalahanin mo ang kanyang pangako:

na sa iyong paglalakbay,
kaibigan ko,
nandyan siya kasama mo't
naghihintay sa tawag mo;
ang bawat sandali sa buhay
nati'y sya'ng may alam
kaya't minsan pa, kaibigan ko,
tawagin mo, upang ika'y tulungan nya.

college days memoriam 1

here's a poem written by syrob ollibucsap 10 years ago, college days. the pix was taken in balyuan tower, tacloban, december 2004.

baluto ni mano pitoy
(ni syrob ollibucsap)

"ha osmena inmabot an baluto ni mano pitoy, mahimyang ngan protektado."

gintatawag ako nira nga baluto
maaram ka ba kon kay ano?
guti-ay manta pero gingagamit niyo
ha usa nga lugar kamo tikadto.

ha kamot ni mano pitoy ako nahimo
hiya nalipay ngan naglurolukso-lukso
ha layon iginbutang niya ako
ha dagat nga halu-ag hinduro.

sumala hain yana ako?
ha dagat may sakay nga tawo;
an tawo ginbubuligan ko
pagkadto, lugar nga waray perwisyo.

ha dagat usahay may nahihinabo
nagbibinalbag balud nga dako;
pero hi pitoy nga akon mano
nagkakapot ha akon, proteksyon sigurado.

sumala ngani hain yana ako?
man gad aada ha dagat, oo.
pero sumala kan kanay ako?
kan mano pitoy, buotan nga tawo.

street scene

who would want to trade off a degree in international development with a street scene like this one? if there were only 2 options in the world - whether u get a piece of paper with ur name on it (they call that diploma) or a street scene like this one - without computing the opportunity cost and without batting an eyelash, i'd choose a street scene like this one. taken during my biking days, january 2005, minami uonoma city, japan.

circles

it's almost 11pm, still in 5th page of my paper writing, when i decided to call my friends back home to take a break. the call was timely because 4 of them were having a grand time in cebu, strolling, talking, laughing. i shared their laughters for a little while but felt a sudden urge to fly home right away and join them in the streets. i'm a street boy. literally a street boy. so one may wonder what on earth am i doing in this 4-walled sd2-503. thanks to them who reminded me that the street is still the best place to be. kudos to my friends who maintained their sanity by not getting engrossed with being a professional.

the pix shows some of my friends. 3 of them i talked to tonight (the 4th one is not in the pix). this was taken last december inside the compound of my beloved nlbc.

winter memoriam

kids taught me better than my classroom teachers. maybe because they don't have pretensions about life. they see things as they are. they don't filter. they just let [it] be.

every saturday, i meet these kids. hyper as they can be, their cares are just gundam, dragonballs, mario bros, and others i could not even pronounce. beyond language, our actions speak louder than words. beyond actions, our laughters reverberate the halls of the special school where these kids meet saturday after saturday. we just play. we just let things be. no guarded moments. we just drop whatever pretensions the adult world has.

the pix shows the fun during our ski day. we may not exactly know how to control the ski, but to be a kid and be kidded is more than enough to laugh out loud.

if only adults would take a closer look at kids...