Sappy together
If you’re over 60 (or getting there) and you think the Internet holds nothing of interest for you, think again.
A few weeks ago, Beng and I came home from a rousing performance of “Atang” (written by Floy Quintos and directed by Alex Cortez) at the Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero Theater in UP Diliman, whistling and singing the kundimans from the show. You know how it goes with the kundiman, that quintessentially Pinoy profession of lovesickness to the point of near-death. I’ve often used the kundiman in class to illustrate just how sappy we Filipinos can get.
Observe, for example, how the lover prostrates himself in utter abjection at the altar of the beloved in these typical lines from the refrain of one of my favorites, Pakiusap, composed by Francisco Santiago with lyrics by Jose Corazon de Jesus: “Kung sakali ma’t salat sa yama’t pangarap / May isang sumpang wagas ang aking paglingap / Pakiusap ko sa iyo, kaaawaan mo ako / Kahit mamatay, pag-ibig ko’y minsan lamang!”
(Pardon the translation — I’m not a natural-born Tagalog — but it says, more or less: “Though my affection want in wealth or ambition, it bears the truest promise. I beseech you, take pity on me. If I should die I shall love but once!”)
That’s the kind of melodramatic sentiment that suffuses Filipino drama, onstage and onscreen, and I used to think that we Pinoys invented the genre until a good dose of English Renaissance and Restoration Drama in graduate school reminded me that people elsewhere, in other places and other times, have been just as florid in their expression of passion.
Yes indeed, the kundiman’s sappy, but we can’t get enough of it — I certainly couldn’t that evening we saw “Atang,” so, on a whim, I fired up YouTube to see what I could find by way of old Filipino songs. I was astounded by what I found: one classic kundiman after another, professionally performed with accompanying lyrics (many of them uploaded by a user named “maybelar” — whoever you are, thank you!). I listened to and downloaded as many as I could in one sitting: Pakiusap, Bituing Marikit, Nasaan Ka, Irog?, Madaling Araw, Ibong Sawi, Mutya ng Pasig, and Ang Tangi Kong Pag-Ibig.
The great thing about the Internet and big collection sites like YouTube is how one link leads to another, and soon the kundimans led me to more nostalgic pleasures: scenes from old Tagalog movies (Charito Solis in her first movie, Niña Bonita from 1955, Gloria Romero as an unlikely Kurdapya from that same year, a cooler-than-cool Diomedes Maturan in a duet with Lerrie Pangilinan in Tawag ng Tanghalan, 1958). (Stop snickering now, 30-somethings: a couple of decades hence, you’ll be talking about the Eraserheads reunion concert with the same glazed eyes.)
And here’s a special treat for baby boomers and their parents — we can watch this from our wheelchairs, folks: go to YouTube (www.youtube.com) and, in the “Search” box, type in the words “Old Manila.” If that doesn’t bring you to tears, I don’t know what will, but we’re such soft touches that I’m sure the sight of a fair damsel in a balintawak alighting from a calesa in a city aswarm with tranvias and stores selling mongo con hielo will reduce many an octogenarian Pinoy to a blabbering idiot. Those were the days, my friend.
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Speaking of sappy things, I’ve been thinking a lot about Chippy lately. He turned 10 last month, and while that would be a bubbly young age to humans, it’s more than halfway to ancient in cat-years. I really don’t know how old cats can get to be. Once, in the States, my host told me that the strip of spiky fur that crawled across the floor was 23 years old. I’m not sure I’d want Chippy to live that long, blind and batty, unable to tell one door from another.
He used to bound up the stairs and into our bed as a kitten; these days he seems quite happy to lounge in the sunlight and to squat, though unproductively, on poor Sophie, our other Persian, and the day will surely come, not too long from now, when he’ll simply stop moving wherever the mood or the pain strikes him, and he’ll lie there like a rug until I nudge him awake; he’ll open a drunken eye and stir, might even yawn mightily enough to recall the perky young lion he once was, until one afternoon he simply won’t.
I wonder if I’ll find the courage to have him put to sleep before that happens. The euphemism sounds so benign that way, and I can imagine myself cradling Chippy in my arms, awash in tears, and muttering nonsensical things while the vet jabs a needle where it can’t hurt him too much. I’d like that needle too, I’ll be thinking then.
Even as I write this I can feel a huge clot forming in my chest. I think of myself as a curmudgeonly alpha male who’s never cared much for anything but his toys, and maybe Chippy’s just that, a big orange furball who’s fun to feed and tickle, but I can’t figure out how I came to love a cat much more than I honestly do most people (I know, a terrible thought that the ethicists can have a field day with, as if I cared).
Or maybe it’s my own incipient old age I’m lamenting underneath, for which Chippy just serves as a cuddly analogue. According to the Cats’ Age Conversion Chart (yes, there is such a thing online), 10 cat-years are equal to 56 human years. I’m 55 going on 56. No wonder I feel your pain, Chippy boy!
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Moving from death lines to deadlines, here’s a couple of announcements from friends, the first of them from the English-Speaking Union of Hong Kong, who wrote in to share some good news about a new literary prize:
“To celebrate their lifelong love of books, Verner Bickley, MBE, PhD, Chairman of the ESU (Hong Kong) and Gillian Bickley, PhD, have established a new annual literary prize, The Proverse Prize, for an unpublished full-length work of fiction, non-fiction or poetry, submitted in English. (Translations are welcome.) The first prize is HKD10,000 and the winning submission will be offered a publishing contract by Proverse Hong Kong. The Prize is offered for the first time in 2009.
“Full details at <http://www.geocities.com/proversehk/proverse_prize>. The closing date for the first round is May 30.”
For the currency-challenged, HKD10,000 is just over P60,000. I should note, however, that the competition requires an entry fee of GBP30.00, so think twice before sending in those five unpublished novels or epic poems gathering dust beneath your bed.
The other notice comes from Dr. Esmeralada “EC” Cunanan of the Philippine-American Educational Foundation (PAEF), which administers the Fulbright, Hubert Humphrey, and East-West Center scholarship programs in the Philippines. Dr. Cunanan reminds potential qualified candidates for the Fulbright Student awards in the US (i.e., master’s, PhD, doctoral dissertation/enrichment) to submit their complete applications by March 23, 2009. The application form can be downloaded from the PAEF website www.paef.org.ph (under scholarship-Fulbright Graduate Students). They can encode the data in the form and send the filled out application form together with the other required documents via LBC.
Grants under the Philippine Student Program are for five months to nine months for non-degree, one to two years for master’s, and two years for doctoral degree studies. The grant provides for round-trip international travel, monthly maintenance allowance, tuition and fees, book/supply allowance, and health and accident insurance. Those applying for non-degree awards must be currently enrolled in a doctoral program in any of the universities in the country.
As a former Fulbrighter myself, I can’t endorse this program strongly enough, as an opportunity for young Filipinos to learn from some of America’s best professors. If you think you have the academic aptitude, the experience, and the commitment to return and to serve the country after your scholarship, pay the PAEF website a visit. It could change your life.
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E-mail me at penmanila@yahoo.com, and visit my blog at p://www.penmanila.net” www.penmanila.net.
