These women are survivors
We were 18 children from three wives,” said Delin Yap Carillo of Tongas Clothes Wear. You may not know what Tongas is. First, it means to climb higher, to descend. Tongas is the name of the garment firm that manufactures police and army uniforms. “My father arrived in Marawi City, Lanao Sur with the Americans and settled in Camp Keithly where we were raised. A Chinese amid Muslim-Christians and American-Protestants, he sewed and repaired their uniforms. I grew up selling current newspapers while my siblings collected old newspapers to sell. We sewed during our free time and ate malunggay every day, which was what we could only afford.” The irony of it all is that now that she can afford to buy any food she wants, she has diabetes.
“Yet, how blessed I’ve been. One day, I was in Iligan City and one contestant for a beauty contest was needed to fill up the number the organizers expected. My aunt dressed me up, I made up my face… and of course I won. The prize was a huge cake, I had never tasted cake before. I held it carefully on my way back to Marawi City so my brothers and sisters could slice the cake themselves while I drooled all the way up to Lanao Sur. We ate it and we saved some for recess, dinner and breakfast the next day.
“My mother took over my father’s business when he died of bone cancer. As a widow my mother didn’t know how to sew yet she cut and sewed pants and brought them to Gen. Adiong in paper bags. ‘Please, pay me to buy rice for my children.’ Napakabait ni Gen. Adiong. He would look for the money in his pockets or in drawers to help my mother. We found out he would have his every pair of pants she made repaired elsewhere because they were all ill-fitted.
“I learned to study pants construction, how materials fell on the body, and I became a seamstress from my experiences in Iligan, Lanao Norte. Now I supervise over 400 sewers using high-speed machines. I bid for fatigue uniforms, general office attires, and gala uniforms for the army and police. I’ve sent my two children to school without hardly paying because they were both high school scholars. One is now a doctor in Switzerland and the other a chemist in the US. I travel to Switzerland to visit my daughter. My son, I see him when he is on vacation in Manila.”
The Farmer
“I am happy in my Coffee ‘n Pemienta farm. It is a quiet life, free from intrigues and unkindness.”
She is plain in her naïvete, contrary to the position she now holds as the wife of the chief of Philippine National Police, with thousands of wives wanting to meet her.
But, no, this convent-bred woman would rather be in a field in Batangas. Besides, it’s good for her diet of malunggay. She does not hesitate to tell me the utensils in formal dinner settings confuse her.
Cynthia Verzosa grew up in a convent, among nuns. Her mom -a nun- passed away last year and her eyes tear up. “I washed dishes, I mopped floors, I did the laundry… and prayed…A gift I’ve given myself is a knee operation. I have kneecaps for both legs.”
The Forensic Expert
“It was 1972, I was fresh from college and had passed the board exam in Medical Technology when my father, then a military colonel, decided that I should join the Women’s Auxiliary Corp of the Philippine Constabulary.
“It was a sudden shift in my life. I saw women in fatigue uniforms, helmets, rubber shoes and carrying firearms and marching at the grandstand. Not the cup of tea of a teenager, but my father was so excited I would be one of them, showing off how snappy it was to march and execute the manual of arms. So I abided with his desire to have a child in the military.”
Now a colonel herself, Filipinas Papa (isn’t Filipinas a lovely name, and so patriotic?) was having her academic and field training program when martial law was proclaimed, with the shortage of military personnel to watch over those suspected to be left-leaning, she was ordered to go on active duty.
Then, it happened. Several political luminaries were brought to Camp Crame and were confined at the gym. “My duty detail was at the gym. I was awed by those political primers I saw. Senator Serge Osmeña, Ninoy Aquino, Senator Jovy Salonga and a host of others — people of integrity and honor.”
She was thrilled to see Senator Aquino in one corner of the table.
“I had been reading his articles, following his speeches that were published in the Free Press. I greeted him but was a little afraid, since I was wearing the military uniform, of what he would say or that he would get mad. Anyway, he greeted me with a smile and was so accommodating that I chattered like a schoolgirl who saw the guy she admired.
“The next day, the Senator greeted me back with a smile and we talked for a short while. He told me to serve my country the best way I knew how and love my country since no one would love it the way I would. He gave me some advice: be careful. Later, he gave me a short note reminding me to show it to him when everything would come to ‘normal.’ I placed it in my uniform pocket and forgot all about it till we heard the news that he was shot at the airport.”
Again Col. Papa saw Ninoy, but now he was dead and nothing would ever be normal for some time. “I remembered I was on duty at the Medico-Legal Division when I received a short note instructing me not to touch the cadaver coming from the airport. Only later were we informed that the body of Senator Aquino was at Fort Bonifacio and would be autopsied.”
It was decided by my husband Peping that the pathologists from Makati Medical, Drs. Billeto and Narciso, would conduct the autopsy as recommended by my aunt, Dr. Felomina L. Montinola.
“As the body of the Senator was brought to Loyola Memorial Chapels in Guadalupe, Makati City, where the autopsy would be conducted, his mother, Doña Aurora, in the van was caressing his head and speaking to him, that he would be autopsied! It was the saddest day then, and after the autopsy we wanted to go to his wake but we were afraid of the repercussions.”
I had asked Col. Papa, a forensic teacher and a blood splatter expert, about solving a crime. The height of the suspect can be determined, whether the suspect is left- or right-handed, the angle of impact, whether the bullet was fired from a horizontal or vertical angle.
She recalled all this as we chatted about the PAL crash in Baguio. That was in June 1987, when a Philippine Airlines flight to Baguio crashed at Mt. Ugu, Benguet, killing all its passengers. It took a while to recover the bodies with the US Air Force in Subic because of the terrain.
She was tasked to conduct the autopsy and review the protocols, the drafts and sketches. The chief then of the Medico-Legal Branch, Col. Desiderio Amoraleda (PC), authorized her to organize a team. Inspector Angelita Parlan and Norma Salo, a fingerprint technician and autopsy attendant, worked with her. There were only two medico-legal officers in the entire Metro Manila, and she was one of them — as the autopsy team’s leader.
“The US sent their dentists and pathologists to help in the identification since one of the passengers was the owner of Texas Instruments and accordingly provided the military hardware to the United States. Japan, too, sent a forensic team headed by Dr. Suzuki, a respected and world-renowned odontologist. The Philippine Airlines managers wanted to do it their way. Because of exhaustion, tensions rose between the workers, managers and us.
“The Forensic team of the Crime Laboratory was the lead agency in the identification of the victims. In view of the fact that most of them were dismembered, it was chaos as family members waited for word that their loved one had been identified.
“An Army sergeant came to Loyola Memorial Chapels looking for me, informing me that the President had sent me a letter. A letter of appreciation neatly typed but personally signed by then President Corazon C. Aquino! That lifted our morale.
“Looking back, I never realized that these two icons, husband and wife, would touch my life and appreciate my small contribution to our country and both sent me a note, years apart.”
