Economic Divide
The commonplace quote that the economic disparity in Negros is extreme still holds water today.
Moreover, a society columnist in a national daily aptly said that the economic heirarchy goes like this (not referring to a place in particular)-- the old rich, the nouveau riche and the new poor. Pun intended, the latter has a heavy bearing as the Negrense struggles to bring back the verve during the apex of its glory days.
The old rich' presence are still well-hoisted in the loft of politics and business. The nouveau riche gained grounds many years back while the new poor are, well, hypothetically relishing the thought of the la dolce vita at the turn of the century.
I did not brush up on history 101 before I boarded the plane. But gurgling in my spirit, together with the ticking of my fear of flight bomb is, I know, one great adventure in rows of old houses, endless plantation, iron dinosaurs and beautiful people.
Starbucks in Silay
The charm of Silay captivated me as we dejeep at past two in the afternoon (deplane sa airplane man daw tu) two blocks from the plaza. This quaint city has no luxe coffee shop Jose but the coffee culture is distinct here. Just a small kapihan where people gather for an afternoon puff and cup. I took it from there. Folks here enjoy the good life with good company (kunu) in its simplest form--Nescafe sachet, Milo, sikwate--whoa, in a cafe ambience replete with a roadside area. Three meters more opens to a nespaper rack and a barber shop. The opposite end has a doughnut shop. All these under the turn of the century building, facing the plaza, with the church in the corner of my eye.
The Museum Negrense, a couple of blocks away, brought back distant memories.
During my elementary years, when Gramma's ancestral house (which she didn't inherit) that sit on top a ridge almost overlooking a pea-green river was torn down (made my heart bleed when I heard the news), my brother and I would stop by it on our way to the rice paddies across the river. A mini forest where my friends played amazon hunt, covered a part of the ridge. The two story affair had the narra plank alternating in light and dark colors in the main hall. The living room which was like a grand ballroom was such a space to play Japanese game. The six bedrooms were a haven for hide seek as well as the dining room that held two ten-seater dining table. Except for the patriarch's room which contain a skull--said to guard the farm and ranch from misfortune. As I read the Balay Negrense's descriptive about each part of the house, my imagination ran wild. How the house came alive during fiestas or parties-- I heard once a story from Mom about the eldest daughter in Gramma's family who was sent as an interna in a convent slash boarding shool in Manila. When she went home to celebrate her coming of age, many cows were reduced to a platefull of dish, complete with an elaborate ceremony like wearing a white veil and dropping of petals in a theatrical precision.
My Gramma's hometown, in contrast to Silay, did not become a hub of arts and culture. My greatgrandparents who were educated in the school of hard knocks were never art patrons. The only art piece that adorned the grand living room was the antique statue of St. Isidore. Where could it be now?
Moreso the town never got a monicker like the Paris of Bohol. (hehehe) The architecture (if it ever existed in the town) was nah. But the house and its the many stories it held sure provided my imaginative mind memories to last until recall begins to fail..
Almost Victorian
When the air smells sweet, you know you are near the VMC township. The mural of the angry Christ is one of the highlights in a pit stop in Victorias MC compound. A walk from the guardhouse lead us to tempation, nah, to a Victorian-inpsired village. It is less-maintained already, but still evoked a very provincial feel. One piece of work worth checking is the Negrense Christ--brown skinned, Jose Rizal type hairstyle. This one is placed somewhere near the east entrance. We hopelessly looked for the old centurio to no avail.
Batchoy capped the day before we took the jeep headed to Bacolod.
Boom Town
Story has it that during the azucarera boom, Bacolod has the most number of Mercedes cars compared to the capital Manila. As a wide-eyed first grader in the 80's, I always heard anecdotes about people from my town working as sugarcane plantation hand. The 90's brought stories of farm hands getting back after the slump of sugar price in the international market.I heard superlatives about its long stretch of paved and four lane highway, how people splurged and bragged and how stately mansions are a staple for each town.
Bacolod, I'll Keep Coming Back
It's my second time to visit this city of smiles. There is something about this city that keeps me probably coming back in the next few years. The diversity is not as vibrant as Davao, the quaint character is not as uncommon as Dumaguete, the people are not as friendly and warm as the Boholanos--but there is something about Bacolod, that pulls me to lay comfortably on its bosom.
Extreme 101
Dinner was a bit feisty. It had nothing to do with the Bicol express I ordered. Really. I came face to face with sarcasm of some healthy dose between colleagues while dinner was prepared. The intellectual elite discussed whatever itched their mind, while the gifted children (in other ways) listened and filled something during dead air.
Unmask
A Jesuit priest once said that people use masks in dealing with other people because as humans, we are afraid of rejection should the person we are dealing with knows our real self of filth and grime ( <<<---I made up this one la, forgot the whole quote e). I silently agree. We all have pretensions. Its part of our make up. A social butterfly, no matter how seemingly perfect she is has a story of struggles and rejections to tell. The seemingly perfect person beside you on a plane may look just like that--fashionably perfect, but he or she also has a story of rejection and fear, just like the person who always talks to you in a scholarly manner using high fallutin words or sophisticated questions. He or she has a share also of grammatical stupid blunder. We are like a tapestry entertwined in the web of life.
Before I press the eject mode, let Shakepeare sweep you off with these:
from The Merchant of Venice:
"If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?". - (Act III, Scene I).
I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses,
affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the
same diseases, healed by the same means,
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as
a Christian is? (3.1.62-73) -- Shylock to Salarino
more here: http://www.shakespeare-online.com/faq/generalfaq.html
Let's enjoy harmony in diversity. Ooops, lest I forget, its a holiday Tuesday today. Peace to our Muslim bros!
(photo grabbed from the wires)
