Message of Mr. Nolasco to CBET-05-501A students

CBET 05-501A c/o "fan ni bob ong" at "kilay"

kamusta, sa wakas at eto na ang bunga ng ating "relasyon"... salamat nga pala sa isang masayang sem... hindi maganda ang record ko sa cbet, kupal kasi ang mga studyante, masyadong maangal, bobo naman... pero iba kayo... mas masarap palang magturo ng mga average at below average na studyante na masisipag, sa kanila kasi agarang makikita ang bunga ng paghihirap ng isang guro... isa pa pala, andaming cute sa inyo (nakaka tempt tuloy i incomplete, joke)... kaya kahit na wala akong tulog kadalasan, i try my very best not to miss my mon-thurs class, malamig kasi sa mata (pero hindi kayong lahat cute, nililinaw ko lang).. believe it or not, i enjoyed your company... alas, most of the good things in life are just moments... sana natulungan ko kayo sa inyong pag unlad... sana pag nagkita tayong muli, lahat kayo successful na... goodluck... - JN

An Enemy and A Brother..

They say life is a never – ending struggle for survival. Everyone lives to fight for another day despite one’s own fears and hatred. But isn’t it ironic that man still calls for justice and peace in spite of such belief?

For the longest time, man tried to find the true meaning of peace. Unfortunately, peace is neither an original paradisiacal state nor a form of co – existence by mutual consent. It is something that we can only sense and search for. True peace is more difficult and unusual than any other achievement even for two persons who live together and need each other.

To gain peace, man must learn to adjust to his environment, just like how a newly hired employee makes sure that he blends well with his co – workers. Thus, most of the time for the sake of the so called “peace”, man tends to forgive (but not forget) the trespasses of the others even without sincerity of truthfulness.

Moreover, man tends to compromise, giving up one’s own principle and faith just to live in tranquility and gain the approval of the majority. It is for the reason that many have been convinced to join fraternities and sororities despite the danger that accompany it.

Truly, man sets the height of all ironies. For thousand of years, it has known the mighty and fundamental maxim: “Thou shall not kill”. Yet, it created a science and technology that encourages the manufacture of explosives and poisonous gases. It even continues to promote the time – honored belief of “eye for an eye” and “tooth for a tooth”.

Undoubtedly, it is a pity that man tends to destroy one’s life just to have peace. More so if peace will have to come only after a sorrowful experience such as death. But reality bites.

Previously, many believed that the last war set in motion such as a gigantic mechanism of horror that future generations will be frightened of even the thought of war. Unfortunately, the opinion is absolutely mistaken.

Fear teaches men nothing. If man enjoys killing, no memory of war can deter him. Nor will the knowledge of the material damage wrought by war.

That is why I believe that the world peace cannot be brought about by preaching, organization, and propaganda, just as a philosopher’s stone cannot be invented by a congress of chemist.

What then can give rise to a true spirit of peace on earth? Definitely, it is neither commandments nor practical experience. Like all human progress, the love of peace must come from knowledge that may be seen and formulated in a thousand different ways. But it must always embody one truth: the knowledge of the living substance in each of us, of the secret magic, the secret godliness that each of us bears within. Where the supreme knowledge is present (as in Jesus, Buddha, Plato, or Lao-Tzu), a threshold is crossed beyond which miracles begin. Only then will war and enmity cease. Where an enemy becomes a brother; death becomes birth; disgrace, honor, and calamity, good fortune.

We must remember that the search for the true meaning of peace will never be an easy task. Along the way, we may see ourselves in the middle of chaos and consequently feel disappointed, hurt, or confused. But we have to accept that taking a journey in this road called life, in search for a brother, may actually result to an endless encounter of an enemy along the road.



Virliza Santos
Sturdy but sensitive; coward for failures; and weak at heart.

Touched by an Angel..

I used to be nobody
Having no one, not even a penny
Living my life out of the wild
I am but a lost child.

But when you came
You changed everything
You taught me what is right
And showed me the light.

My life found its direction
Am no longer afraid to face my woes
I’ve realized my destiny
And that is make you stay
WITH ME.

You refreshed my soul
Chased darkness out of view
Now, I’ve learned to love
An angel just like
YOU.

Friends Forever ..

A friend is a pulling hand when you’re down,
A smile when you are sad;
A song when you are glad,
And that’s the one that I have.

A friend knows every thought in your mind,
And hears every beat of your heart;
Like a precious gem that is hard to find,
His kindness shines all the time.

A friend is a nice thing you can have,
To share you thoughts and even love;
That’s why he’s always at your side,
‘Til forever, as time passes by.

Many problems may come your way,
But a friend is there with you to stay
He just listens as you relay,
All the hardships that you might say,
That is why you have to love your friend,
For he will be with you ‘till the end.

The Father

The man whose story to be told was the wealthiest and most influential person in his parish; his name is Don Manuel Vasquez. Don Manuel had everything. He felt that he needed nothing and no one, not even God. He appeared in the priest’s study one day, tall and earnest.

“I have gotten a son,” said he, “and I wish to present him for baptism.”
“What shall his name be?”
“Emmanuel – after my father.”
“And the sponsors?”

They were mentioned and proved to be the best men and women of Don Manuel’s relations in the parish.

“Is there anything else?” inquired the priest and looked up.

The peasant hesitated a little.

“I should like very much to have him baptized by himself,” said he finally.
“That is to say on a week – day?”
“Next Sunday, at twelve o’clock noon.”
“Is there anything else?” inquired the priest.
“There is nothing else,” and the peasant twirled his cap as though he were about to go.

Then the priest rose. “There is yet this, however, ” said he, and walking toward Don Manuel, he took him by the hand and looked gravely into his eyes: “God grant that the child may be a blessing to you!”

One day sixteen years later. Don Manuel stood once more in the priest’s study.

“Really, you carry your age astonishingly well, Don Manuel,” said the priest; for he saw no change whatever in the man.
“That is because I have no troubles,” replied Don Manuel.

To this the priest said nothing, but after a while he asked. “What is your pleasure this evening?”

“I have come this evening about that son of mine who is to be confirmed by tomorrow.”
“He is a bright boy,” said the priest.
“So I have heard, and here are ten dollars for the priest.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” inquired the priest, fixing his eyes on Manuel.
“There is nothing else.”

Eight years more rolled by, and then one day noise was heard outside the priest’s study, for many men were approaching, and at their head was Manuel, who entered first.
he priest looked up and recognized him.

“You come well attended this evening, Manuel,” said he.
“I am here to request that the banns may be published for my son; he is about to marry Kristina Concepcion, daughter of Sigmund, who stands here beside me.”
“Why, is the richest girl in the parish.”
“So they say,” replied the peasant, stroking back his hair with one hand.

The priest sat a while as if in deep thought, then he entered the names in his book without making any comments, and the men wrote their signatures underneath. Manuel laid a four hundred peso on the table.

“One is all I am to have,” said the priest.
“I know that very well; but he is my only child; I want to do it handsomely.”

The priest took the money.

“This is now the third time, Manuel, that you have come on your son’s account.”
“But now I am through with him,” said Manuel, and folding up his pocketbook he said farewell and walked away.

The men slowly followed him.

A fortnight later, the father and son were rowing across the lake, one calm still day, to Storliden to make arrangements for the wedding.

“This thwart is not secure,” said the son and stood up to straighten the seat on which he was sitting.

At the same moment the board he was standing on slipped from under him; he threw out his arms, uttered a shriek, and fell overboard.

“Take hold the oar!” shouted the father, springing to his feet and holding out the oar.

But when the son made a couple of efforts he grew stiff.

“Wait a moment!” cried the father and began to row toward his son. The son rolled over on his back, gave his father one long look, and sank.

Manuel could scarcely believe it; he held the boat still and stared at the spot where his son had gone down, as though he must surely come to the surface again. There rose some bubbles, then some more, one large one that burst; and the lake lay there as smooth and bright as mirror again.

For three days and three nights people saw the father rowing round and round the spot without taking neither food nor sleep; he was dragging the lake for the body of his son. And toward morning of the third day he found it and carried it in his arms up over the hills to his farm.

It might have been about a year from that day when the priest, late one autumn evening, heard someone in the passage outside the door carefully trying to find the latch. The priest opened the door, and walked a tall, thin man with bowed form and white hair. The priest looked at him before he recognized him. It was Manuel.

“Are you out walking so late?” said the priest and stood still in front of him.
“Ah, yes! It is late,” said Manuel a took a seat.

The priest sat down also as though waiting. A long, long silence followed. At last Manuel said:

“I have something with me that I should like to give to the poor; I want it to be invested as a legacy in my son’s name.”

He rose, laid some money on the table and sat down again. The priest counted it.

“It is a great deal of money,” said he.
“It is half the price of my farm. I sold it today.”

The priest sat along in silence. At last he said but gently:

“What do you propose to so now Manuel?”
“Something better.”

They sat for a while, Manuel with downcast eyes, the priest with his eyes fixed on Manuel. Presently the priest said slowly and softly:

“I think your son has at last brought you a true blessing.”
“Yes, I think so myself,’ said Manuel looking up, while two big tears coursed slowly down his cheeks.

Virliza Santos
Easy to get along with, ebullient, jester of the group, a woman with a humble disposition.

Cordillera Autonomous Region

The Cordillera Autonomous Region (CAR), Philippines' only land-locked region, consists of the provinces of Abra, Benguet, Ifugao, Kalinga, Mountain Province and Apayao. Baguio City is the regional center. The Cordillera region encompasses most of the areas within the Cordillera Central mountain range of Luzon, the largest range in the country. This region is home to numerous indigenous tribes collectively called the Igorot.

CAR has many different kinds ethnic group. It consists of the tribe of Ibaloy, Isneg, Tingguian, Hudhud, Oggood, Sudsud and Ullalim. Those tribes have their own extraordinary fictitious story or literary works that we, Filipinos should be proud of.

ISNEG natives lived in the northwesterly end of Northern Luzon, in the upper half of Cordillera Province known as Kalinga Apayao. They are close neighbors to the Kalinga, Tingguian and Ifugao. They have cultural similarities and only the languages differ. This tribe is very fond of tobacco. They were described as of slender and graceful structure, with manners that were kind, hospitable and generous, possessed with the spirit of self-reliance and courage and courage and clearly artistic in their temperament.

The first inhabitants of Abra were the ancestors of TINGGUIAN. They are mostly descendants of Ilocano settlers. Many of them have embraced Catholicism, but some still believe in ancient and supernatural spirits until now. Most Tingguians are farmers who tend rice in kaingin and rice terraces.

HUDHUD are the most prominent of the mountain people. They are collectively known as Igorots, actually consisting of the major group. The Ifugaos and Bontocs are the most advanced. Their ancestors built the famous rice terraces over 2, 000 years ago without the aid of metal tools. Agriculture is the main source of livelihood among the Ifugao. They harvest rice and variety of crops and vegetables. The HUDHUD is along tale sung during special occasions. It is also sung during harvest time.

The term BONTOC refers to the people of the Mountain Province. They are the only people in this area to have laws on warfare, including the making of peace pacts. The Bontoc say that their laws were given to them by Lumawig, their culture hero. The Bontoc believe in the anitos or spirits of their ancestors and in spirits dwelling in nature. Bontoc social literature communicates ideas or attitudes to others. It expresses the Bontoc world view and reflects their collective history.

The Mt. Province of Benguet is the home of the KANKANA-EY. Family is the basic social unit of the Kankanay. They practice monogamous relationship. Members of the family are expected to do their responsibilities related to economic and ritual activities. The Kankanay have rich collection of riddles and epics.

The KALINGA stand tall and are of Malayan heritage. In the past, they were feared for their head hunting activities. Kalinga literature consists of riddles, legends, chanted or sung myths, epics or ballads. ULLALIM are ballads that narrate the heroic exploits of culture heroes which also emphasize the bravery and pride of the Kalinga people.

Historia a Pacasaritaan ti Pinagbiag ni Lam-Ang

An example of an ancient poem of historical importance is Historia a Pacasaritaaan ti Pinagbiag ni Lam-Ang. It is an old Ilocano metrical story, because of his immense physical prowess and adventures and the medium in which this story has told. Pinagbiag ni Lam-Ang has become very popular in Ilocos, Pangasinan, and Zambales.

Pinagbiag ni Lam-Ang, in its present form, is a folk-poem. It bears for the most part, truly pre-spanish elements, like some of the characters are addressed like Doña, Don, Seniora and Dois.

Lam-Ang is considered as the hero of the North. He was the son of Don Juan Panganiban and Namongan, a family of substance in the town of Nalbuan somewhere in the Valley of Naguilian River in La Union.

Lam-Ang was born as a baby with both power of speech and unusual physical form. And in nine months, Lam-Ang grew so rapidly that he assumed the form and size of a full-grown man. He was strong in muscles and in big limbs and for this reason, he immediately evoked fear and respect in his community.

The story leaves an expression of bravery, revenge, romance, magic, and love for the family and even for pets. The author makes use of strange animals like giant fish, rooster and dog to add up more zest in the story and to have some twist.

The first part of the story seemed to be fine but as I go on reading the myth, I get surprised with what happened to Lam-Ang as he grows old. It was very unusual to happen in real life. The supernatural powera that Lam-Ang has is unrealistic, like those he can talk after he was born and that barely in nine months that he already looked like a grown up man.

But still, the Story of Lam-Ang did have a lot of moral lessons and whimsical events that widens the imaginations of the readers.

As the story ended, it was like a typical Disney fairytale I have watched that the main characters lived happily ever after, after all the trials that they have faced through their journey.