My First Published Article Was On The Salinas Salt Spring

Funny how serendipity works. I've been trying to put some order these past few days to the mountains of books, magazines, newspaper clippings, xeroxed materials, photographs, notes, and other souvenirs of the past that I was able to keep since high school. And among the items I was able to salvage from further attack by dust, humidity, cockroaches, termites, and silverfish in the basement of our house was a folder of clippings and photo copies of some of my earliest published articles.

Among the standouts in the file was the very first article that I ever wrote and got published -- one on the Salinas Salt Spring that included the legend of how the grief of a mountain maiden named Yumina over the treacherous killing of her lover Gumined was rewarded by the gods with the creation of a pearly white hill that for ages and ages gushed forth with salty water believed to be Yumina's tears.

While re-living the wondrous emotions I felt the first time I saw my piece on page 101 of the January 1, 1968 issue of the Ilocano magazine Bannawag, I thought of finding the original copy that gave me my "beginner's luck" as a writer. Here, I took a photo of both the magazine's cover and the page where my piece was:

Cover of the January 1, 1968 issue of BANNAWAG on the left; my Salinas article on the right.

I wrote the piece on pad paper when I was in my senior year at St. Mary's High School in Dupax and mailed it through Uncle Kusep (Jose Castro) who was then working at the Municipal Hall in Malasin where the post office was (there was only one Dupax then).

You may say I probably made history not only at St. Mary's but also in Dupax when that piece came out. For as far as I know, I was the only one from Dupax at the time who ever broke print in a nationally circulated publication. And to think that I was only 16 at the time.

Okay, here's a close-up shot of the article:

This piece was my first writing to see print. Probably it was also the first from Dupax to ever get published in a magazine circulated not only in the Philippines but also among Ilocanos in California and Hawaii.

For those who need magnifying lens to read it, don't worry. Here's a faithful transcription of the text:

Tao, Lugar, Pasamak

CHARLES CASTRO

St. Mary's High School

Dupax, Nueva Vizcaya

Salinas Salt Spring

TANGSIT TI NUEVA VIZCAYA

MAKUNKUNA A TI ubbog ti asin idiay Bambang, Nueva Vizcaya ti maysa kadagiti sangagasut ket maysa a pagdidinnamagan a buya ditoy lubong. Kas makitayo iti ladawan, nakaaramiden daytoy nga ubbog iti dakkel a turod ti asin; agarup a sangagasut a kadapan ti kangatona. No kinapintas ti pagsasaritaan, kapintasan ngatan iti kunak.

Kadakami a taga-Nueva Vizcaya, ti Salinas Salt Spring ti kapintasanen a buya. Ta kas itay kunadan, "There's no place like home." Nupay pangadayuen (agarup sangapulo ket dua a kilometro manipud iti Central Bambang), pagaayatmi pay laeng a mapan pagpipiknikan aglalo no iti tiempo ti kalgaw.

Malaksid iti kasla perlas a kinapudaw ti galpang, adu pay dagiti napipintas a buya iti lawlaw ti Salinas Salt Spring. Masarakan ditoy dagiti nadumaduma a kita ti kayo a kas iti saleng. Nalamiis kem makapabang-ar ti puyupoy ti angin.

Ania ti pakasaritaan ti Salinas Salt Spring? Kasano ti ilulutuadna?

Idi kano un-unana a panawen, adda maysa a prinsesa a kasla birhen ti kinapusaksakna. Yumina ti nagan daytoy a prinsesa, anak ti maysa a datu.

Nagdidinnamagan ti kinapintas ni Prinsesa Yumina. Adu dagiti nagrayo kenkuana. Ngem dua laeng ti kapingetan, da Indawat ken Gumined.

Tapno marisut no siasino ti mangikut iti puso ni Prinsesa Yumina, nagsalip da Indawat ken Gumined iti panagpana. Nangabak ni Gumined ket isu ti nangasawa iti prinsesa.

Kalpasan ti sumagmamano nga aldaw manipud iti panagkasar da Gumined ken Prinsesa Yumina, inawis ni Indawat ni Gumined a mapan aganup iti kabambantayan. Ngem idi makadanonda iti kabambantayan, pinatay ni Indawat ni Gumined. Inyawidna ti bangkay ni Gumined sana imbaga iti prinsesa a natnag ni Gumined iti rangkis.

Napalalo ti paanagladingit ni Prinsesa Yumina. Impaipanna ti bangkay ti asawana iti lugar a nangabakan idi daytoy iti panagpana, sana pinatay ti bagina. Nem sakbay dayta indawatna kadagiti didiosen a magaburanda koma nga agassawa iti adu nga asin a kas tanda iti nakana a panagladingitna.

Nagkubuar ti baybay, nagdalluyon iti kakasla bantay, ket nalayus ti yanda. Idi agkalman ti dilubio, makita ti kasla perlas ti kapudawna a turod ti asin iti disso a nakatayan da Prinsesa Yumina ken Gumined.

Manipud idin agingga ita, kas tuloy ti sarsarita, madlaw pay laeng ti nakana a panagladingit ni Prinsesa Yumina no agpusuak ti naapgad a danum iti rabaw ti galpang.

No kayatyo a paneknekan ti kinapintas ti Salinas Salt Spring ― buya a pagtangsit ti Nueva Vizcaya ― umayyo kitaen. Ngem tapno ad-adda a maragsakankayo, iti tiempo ti kalgaw ti yuumayyo. Narigat ngamin ti bumallasiw iti karayan Bambang no kasta nga agdinakkel ti danum. Mangitugotkayo metten iti kamera a pagalayo kadagiti nadumaduma a buya. ―#

Enero 1, 1968 o BANNAWAG o 101

POST SCRIPT

1. I don't remember how Mama reacted to my achievement but I recall Papa was obviously happy when he saw my bylined article. When he asked where I got the accompanying photo of Salinas Spring, I was about to lie to him (knowing his thunderous voice when he is angry). But then my better self mustered courage and I told him I cut out the picture of Salinas from the page of his NLAA souvenir program that he kept in the lakasa where Mama also kept her valuable clothes and jewelry. When he kept silent, I knew my lucky star held.
2. I got paid five pesos (P5.00) by Bannawag for that piece. I don't recall if it was Uncle Kusep who delivered the registered envelop that contained the Money Order from Manila, but I did recall that I felt I was already a millionaire when I had the check-like item encashed, again thru Papa's oldest brother Uncle Kusep.
3. You may laugh at P5.00 nowadays, but in 1968 that amount was already money then as you could buy at the time an atado of galunggong for 50 centavos, a huge piece of squash for 10 centavos, a small can of Ligo sardines for 25 centavos, a can of Target corned beef for 80 centavos, a ganta of rice for 50 centavos, a bottle of Coca-Cola or Royal Tru-Orange for 10 centavos, an chicken egg for 10 centavos, a Mongol pencil for 10 centavos, a double-cone sorbetes for 10 centavos, and San Miguel beer for 50 centavos.
4. Aside from the popularity I got from relatives in Bagumbayan and in I-iyo who read my Bannawag article, among the "fringe benefits" I got was a fan mail from a certain Mildred Malabed of Batac, Ilocos Norte, also a 4th year high school student at the time. We kept writing each other even when I was already in Los Baños but we got to meet only when she was already in her internship as a nurse at the De Ocampo Hospital and came to visit UPLB with her boyfriend.
5. I wrote an English version of the article in 1974 and, again, I was lucky to get it published in Kerima Polotan's weekly Focus Philippines magazine. It was titled "Witchery at Salinas Salt Spring" and earned for me sixty pesos (P60.00). Unfortunately, I could no longer find a copy of the magazine nor a xerox of the article. I guess this should be reason for me to visit the National Library soon, in addition to doing more research on what that repository and the National Museum have on Isinay and Dupax.
6. Again, the amount that that Salinas article gave me may not mean anything now, but when I was a student it was already manna from Heaven to me. At the time I could already subsist on an allowance of P40.00 per month. You could buy a pair of Levi's jeans near Quiapo Church then for P40; the BLTB fare between Manila and College, Laguna then was P1.10 (or a little more); for faster and cheaper travel from Mayondon to any point before Tutuban, the Metro train then charged a mere 25 centavos; a bowl of mami plus a piece of siopao in any Ma Mon Luk restaurant then was only P1.50; and jeepney fare then was only 15 centavos.

Why Salinas Salt Spring Means A Lot

I have yet to write a more meaty account of why the town of Bambang, Nueva Vizcaya, is dear to me. But for this blogpost allow me to focus on its Salinas salt spring if only to substantiate that, apart from barangays Buag, Barat, Almaguer, and Indiana, plus the Bambang public market and the Bambang Central Elementary School, there are other places in that town that I could consider part of me.

For newcomers, Salinas is that oddity in the province of Nueva Vizcaya that used to attract local as well as foreign visitors when the word tourism was not yet a household word. It is one of the places that Nueva Vizcaya, particularly the municipality of Bambang, used to be very proud of when the salt mound (that we Ilocanos called "galpang') and the spring that made it grow were both still alive. 

The salty geological structure was in fact enshrined in the Vizcaya Hymn that we used to sing with fervor in the elementary grades in this stanza: "...Winding Magat and Salinas spring, this is our Vizcaya home!"

Salinas is important to me because, aside from having been mesmerized by it since I first stepped on it as a pre-school kid (carried on the shoulders of my Uncle Anton Pudiquet), it was also the subject of the very first article I ever got published.

I will post in a separate blog that Salinas article once I find it in my "junk files". But for now, allow me to revisit the Salinas salt springs with you.

Salinas on the Web

I googled “Salinas salt spring in Nueva Vizcaya” and my search led me to http://www.wondermondo.com/Countries/As/Philippines/NuevaVizcaya/SalinasSprings.htm where there is a photo of Salinas that carried this caption: Salinas Salt Spring before the earthquake. Scanned postcard from the page of Jack Kintanar Cariño, public domain due to the expired copyright length.

The earthquake the caption referred to most probably was the July 16, 1990 temblor that devastated large parts of Luzon, including the Cordillera (Baguio, Benguet), Nueva Vizcaya, Nueva Ecija, La Union, and Pangasinan. 

When I googled Jack Cariño, I found out – sadly but still thankfully – that the great photo was not of recent vintage but an archive picture taken or painted (as indeed it looked like a painting) during the American colonial era in the Philippine Islands. 

You may ask how come. 

Well, first, the photo showed US soldiers with their characteristic boots and coverall outfit. And second, the caption on the photo itself said “A 229 – A Mountain of Salt, Mountain Province, Philippines” which means that the Americans who first saw it may not have been so literate on Philippine geography that time for Nueva Vizcaya as a province already existed long before the American colonialists came.

Be that as it may, I'm still thankful for the photo as it portrayed how the Salinas salt spring looked in the olden days. There are bonsai-like trees with their roots clinging on the pearly rock. The mountains in the background show the characteristic brown grasslands that may have been burned to renew the cogon or tanglag grass for the cows, or to attract deer with the resulting ashes.

Here's the photo:

The same wondermondo.com site fortunately had this generous writeup titled “Salinas Salt Spring”:

Once upon a time there was unique monument of nature near Bambang town - a snow-white mountain of travertine formed by a powerful spring.

The glistening white hill with rimstone pools (just similar to the fantastic rice terraces in Ifugao) attracted attention of people since ancient times. Nearby village -- Salinas -- got its name from it. This beautiful spring turned into major tourist attraction.

Unfortunately since the earthquake from 16th July 1990 this spring has changed its course and the white mountain has turned into a dirty grey hill covered with inscriptions and graffiti. Most likely the tectonic forces tightened some fissures and water found other ways.

Happily there have been found two more springs with active travertine formation processes in the nearby Macalong barangay, Bambang.

In 2004 local people found out that water is flowing again from the base of former springs. By this time the rural people in this part of Luzon were overwhelmed with the cultivation of tilapias -- small, tasty fish diversifying the daily meals of Filipinos.

In spite of the popular belief that water is too salty for freshwater fish, local enthusiasts tried their luck in artificial fishponds with springwater. This was complete success -- fish grew well and were a lot more tasty than elsewhere. In other pools the meat of fish has got soily taste but here the salts are cementing the ground and the water is cleaner.

Currently more than 30 fishponds have been arranged and in this way the people of Salinas got compensation for disruption of the former tourist landmark. Salinas Salt Spring is a protected monument of nature since 2000.

Popular myths. 

Often there are met two faulty myths regarding Salinas Salt Spring:

• Many believe that Salinas Salt Spring is formed by the salty water of Pacific Ocean which miraculously travels 75 km inland and is rised 400-500 m above the sea level. This is wrong. Deep artesian water in most areas of the world is salty, often a lot more salty than the ocean. And it happens that this salty water comes up through fissures, and, as it reaches the surface, it precipitates the salt.
• Cupola and terraces are formed by clean table salt (sodium chloride). Wrong -- if this would be pure table salt, it would dissolve in the wet climate of Luzon very quickly. Salinas cupola and terraces are formed by travertine which for most part consists of limestone. Water in the springs though is slightly salty -- thus there might be some rock salt involved as well.

The author and owner of the www.wondermondo.com website is Gatis Pavils, holder of BSc. Geology and MSc. Environment degrees.

There is also this photo black and white that shows Salinas still white even as it already had the handiwork of vandals:

Photo from http://manilajc.tripod.com/valerio.htm

At first I thought the photo above was of recent take, possibly in the 1990s. But I'm having second thoughts because the blogsite that carries it is a memoir of a former World War 2 guerilla named Escolastico "Restie" M. Valerio presumably from Bulacan but now based in New Jersey. Anyway Guerilla Resty had this account (reprinted here as is, unexpurgated) on Salinas that went with the photo in his blog:

"...at pagkatapos nito ay inatasan kaming tunguhin iyong malapit sa Salinas Salt Spring o bundok na mina ng asin, wlang labanan at ankita namin ang malipetan itong minanganng ito, may 20 metro ang lapad nito sa nilalabasan ng asin mula sa ituktok na undok, putting-puti ang asin sa itaas buablit sa ibaba ay kulay dilaw naman hangang sa kapatagan." (Source: http://manilajc.tripod.com/valerio.htm)

How Salinas Looks Today

It has been decades, nay, half a century, since I last set foot on Salinas. From hearsay, I learned it had been "killed" by the July 1990 earthquakes and since then the spring stopped flowing, and soon the salt mound lost its pearly white color. No wonder when you are near the bridge in Lamo, Dupax del Norte, you could no longer see the formerly visible white mound in the direction of Salinas.

This 2010 photo I found in the internet should say a lot:

Photo from http://s613.photobucket.com/albums/tt220/mscheca/?action=view&current=6.jpg&newest=1

Yes sir, yes ma'am, plus or minus the graffiti you see on its gray sides, Salinas salt spring that used to be a pride of Nueva Vizcaya is no longer something to be proud of.

Each time I travel between Baguio and Dupax via the Salinas-Pingkian road, however, I never fail to look in the direction of where the pearly white salt hill used to be nestled among the grassy mountains of the former Forestry Nursery area. 

I also entertain the thought that one of these days the "galpang" will come back, as indeed the salty spring has oozed in other parts downhill -- and benefiting salt-water-loving tilapia plus their fishpond owners (including my second cousin Steve Pudiquet of Barat).

Perish the thought of another killer temblor, but since an earthquake has plugged the hole that allowed the mineral water to come out from the bosom of the earth to form the salt dome, I also have this feeling that most probably another earthquake will unplug the same hole or open a new one that would spawn a new pearly mound that will make Bambang and, for that matter, all of us Nueva Vizcaya natives sing once again.

• 
  

(NOTE: Please see also my blog "My Very First Published Article Was About Salinas")

The NPA Paranoia

While having coffee to ward off the seeping cold this rainy November 5 morning (Philippine time), I got this text message from my daughter Leia who as of this writing is in Luna, Apayao, serving as writing coach and campus journalism judge for selected elementary and high school youths of that town:

hahaha napagkamalan pala kaming recruiter ng npa. pumunta yung chief of police d2 kanina, sakto pagdating ni harley at nung organizer na naginvite samin. sabi daw ksi ng nagtip sa pulis nagtatagalog daw kami. hahaha ang hirap naman magturo in ilocano or straight english!

Leia is of course the one of my three children who, aside from having been born in August and an adventurous person like your Isinay Bird, probably inherited most of my writing genes too and, as a cum laude graduate of BS in Development Communication at UP Los Banos, is the one who has held fort, as it were, in my aborted high school dream to be a journalist. (But that's another story for another post in this blogsite.)

Sensing her uneasy excitement, I put down my coffee mug and fired back this text message right away:

Wow, gandang experiens yan! Sulatin mo as field diary of a journalism coach. Ganyan din kmi nong fact finding mission sa casecnan 1991, kala ng mga cafgu na bugkalot ay NPA kami kc tagalog salita nmin. Buti may ksama kmi na ifugao at ilongot, at may sulat ako nkuha from forester mayor blando ng quirino.

Not contented, I followed my text with another: Mabuti cguro samahan kayo ng organizer para magcourtesy call sa mayor. Ganyan kc kaparanoid ang ibang tao.

Leia's reply: kinausap na nga ng organizer e. hatid sundo pa nya kami.

Normally, when my coffee turned cold, I would add hot water to it and a half-teaspoon of Nescafe. But this time I just finished what was left in my UNICEF mug, opened my laptop, and began writing this piece.

But while adjusting my seat and selecting what phrases to use, I heard my wife (who I told earlier about Leia's news) reading aloud the text she received herself from our daughter. I told her (my wife) to forward me the text exchanges, so here's their back and forth, as dictated for my typing by Haina Fiadchongan:

Mommy: Scoop na headlyn sa midland! Mga nmundok na media ginawang front ng pulis para kunyari may npasurender na NPA. WAHAHAHA
Leia: hahaha tagatagalog kaya tong pulis sa next rum. wag nga sila. minmuli.
Mommy: Hinde border ang pulis nayan, SPY. INGAT KAU.
Leia: hahaha engot nga spy. eto open ko door para makita nila na nagjujudge aq ng papers hindi aq npa.

Indeed, what happened to my daughter brought a flashflood of memories not only of the term NPA but also of those unforgettable adventures I had some years ago in the countryside.

(to be continued)

The Latest Report on Isinay as an Endangered Language

Just when I thought I have digested all the literature on Isinay that is available on the Internet, I got another happy surprise in my work as Isinay lexicographer when I found by accident a paper written by Ms. Celina Marie Cruz of the University of the Philippines Diliman.
 
Not one to miss the opportunity, I fired this salvo to Ma'am Celina:

Dear Ma’am Celina,

Mawalang galang na po.

While navigating through the internet last night for a free downloadable copy of Otto Scheerer’s  THE PARTICLES OF RELATION OF THE ISINAI LANGUAGE, my serendipity angel showed me your THE REVITALIZATION CHALLENGE FOR SMALL LANGUAGES: THE CASE OF ISINAI.

Well, as a mestizo Isinay from Dupax myself, I feel I should thank you on behalf of my fellow Isinays who still care for the value and preservation – or at least prolonging the existence for many decades more – of our centuries-old language. 

I’m sorry I could not find your paper’s publication date. But based on your mentioning the Bona’ si Isinai Dopaj and mentioning a Department Order No. 74, s. 2009, I get it to mean it came out very recently. You see, I was speaker during the first anniversary of  Bona^ only last December and, indeed, it came out that we really need to do bold steps to save the Isinay language from falling into complete oblivion.

I guess that as a result of the suggestion I made in my rambling Isinay talk, the members of Bona^ teamed up with the Senior Citizens of Dupax in including as “major, major” part of the town’s fiesta last April a live presentation of how the Isinay daluj-daluj and lupeyup are made.

I’m not sure though if there was a complete videotape (or if somebody kept a copy) of the event which included the Isinay “how-to” narration of how such formerly popular glutinous-rice delicacies among us Dupax Isinays were made. Of course, there was also singing by senior and not-yet-senior citizens of the Isinay songs (e.g. “Dattut Ittuam,” “Uar Sipan Uar,” “Osan Lavi”) that young and old alike loved to sing up to the early ‘70s when TV and Tagalog and cellphones were not yet part of our culture in Dupax, Bambang, and Aritao.

Oh yes, one reason I’m sending you this note is to report to you a recent development about our move to revitalize Isinay – in case you are going to write a sequel or an updated version of your “maserot on mampagayjayam poddan sinulat.”  Early this year I included an “Isinay Friends” group in my Facebook account that generated very warm reception from the younger Irupajs (people of Dupax) many of whom now work or live in the USA, Europe, Canada, Hongkong, and the Middle East.

It didn’t take long before our group got linked with another Facebook group called “Isinay Global Association” started by Isinays from Bambang and made more appealing by a lady who translated Bible verses into the Bambang version of Isinay. I had sporadic contributions to both groups by way of photos that generated not only lively Isinay exchanges but also evoked nostalgia among the members now living overseas.

In both FB groups, there is implied enthusiasm for revitalizing the Isinay language, be it Bambang or Dupax. Small steps and small victories, yes. It’s only unfortunate that no matter how I repeatedly included Aritao in my posts in the hope to flush out of the cave, as it were, Isinays of that town, my effort has so far met nakabibinging katahimikan from I-aritaos.

This is why I’m happy you reported that Aritao also has its Uhmu Si Tribun Si Beveoyar Ari-Tau. Would you know somebody in that group I could contact, preferably through e-mail? Would you also know if that group includes the Isinay writer-editor Edgar Daniel and the UP-based(?) indi-film producer/director Mel Guzman?

Pasensiya na po, Madam, sa aking pang-aabala. Patunay lang po iyon kung gaano ninyo pinasigla ang aba naming puso at mundong Isinay sa inyong sinulat. Magtiwala po kayo na gagamitin namin, kung inyo pong mamarapatin, ang mga mungkahing nakapulupot sa mga findings ninyo – tungo sa aming panggagatong at pagpapalagablab muli sa aming wika na kaakibat ng aming kultura.

MABUHAY PO KAYO!

Osan mangirayaw ira^yun mabves pusonar an tataju sina Diliman,

CHARLZ CASTRO

88 Amistad, Camp 7, Baguio City

(http://isinay-bird.blogspot.com)

HERE'S MS. CELINA CRUZ' REPLY:

From: Celina Marie Cruz <celinamariecruz@gmail.com>
To: charlz castro <charlzcastro@yahoo.com>
Sent: Wednesday, October 12, 2011 11:08 AM
Subject: Re: Revitalizing Isinay

Dear Mr. Castro,

Thank you so much for your email. It really brightened my day, knowing the people of Isinai are showing so much interest in the preservation and revitalization of the language. And it warms the heart to know that, in my own little way, I could help you in your pursuits.

I wrote my paper on The Revitalization Challenge of Small Languages: The Case of Isinai for a Linguistics Congress held at Cagayan de Oro last February 2010. It's basically a summary of my thesis. I will try to find a copy of my thesis, in hopes of helping you further your initiatives. We (a group of linguistics and anthropology students) also did a paper on the Isinai language and culture around 2009 for field work. We left copies of our study at Aritao, Dupax and Bambang.

Mr. Edgar Daniel III was one of my research sources. You can try and contact him through this number 0906-5748717 or his wife at 09155778368. I'm sorry but I still can't find his email address. I will email you again once I find it.

Thank you again for updating me on the developments of the revitalization of the Isinai language and culture. I am excited for all your efforts! I hope your initiatives will soon bloom into greater things! Please continue updatingf me. And if there is anything I can help you with, please do not hesitate to ask! :)

Regards,
Celina Cruz

 MY SECOND E-MAIL:

Pinavlen Ma'am Celina,

Maraming salamat po sa inyong reply, at sa mga contact numbers.

It would be great to find out if the III in Mr. Daniel's name means he is the same person or a younger version of the Vizcaya Advocate editor I wrote a letter to and he liked the Isinay line I used ("Ayyu ayyu bebeyoyar Dupaj!" -- Literally: Kawawa naman ang bayang Dupax!). Well, that was in the pre-Martial Law years and I was a scrawny student then in UP Los Baños.

Actually, my interest at helping revitalize one of my dual native languages started as a game between me and my sisters in 2007 when, each time we meet, we would talk in Isinay and tried to outdo one another in using what we thought was the deepest Isinay word or phrase we could use -- and even imitated the sing-song way my father and uncle (natoy ra mot) talked. We started with the names of vegetables, insects, household utensils, and parts of the body. Since then our little game continued and included even my Dupax-based nieces and cousins, such that it became an unwritten rule to use Isinay when we talked with one another.

Interestingly, in cases of disputes involving wrong pronunciation or Ilocanized/Tagalized terms, we used our mother (a pure Ilocana who was forced to learn Isinay so she could get along with her pure Isinay mother-in-law and my father's Isinay relatives) as arbiter. Quite often, too, we consulted some of her senior citizen Isinay friends. I kept arbitrary listings here and there of the words that I myself have already forgotten, and pretty soon the few dozens of quaint or even moribund Isinay terms on my list became hundreds.

The hundreds soon became thousands and, before I knew it, I was already compiling and alphabetizing enough words in my computer to make an Isinay-English dictionary. The cellphone had been very useful as now and then my sisters would send in new words they remembered or came across with while conversing with fellow Isinays. In my little place in Baguio, I would also be alert for Isinay-sounding words each time my Bontoc-Barlig wife talked with her siblings.

And that was how I got invited to speak before the Bona^ si Isinai Dupaj. Somehow news got around that this prodigal son of Dupax was trying to make an Isinay dictionary, and the officers thought it would be best to encourage their members to help. To make the story short, napasubo na po ako. In fact, each time I go to Dupax to visit my mother, several members of the Bona^ (we use the circumflex here) who are also members of her senior citizens' association would come to the house and would ask me if I already had in my compilation this word, this song, this prayer, this saying, this lojlojmo^ (riddle), etc.

For the younger Isinays, mabuti na lang may Facebook na kung saan di lang kami nagkakakilanlan at nagpapalitan ng Isinay jokes at nag-re-react sa photos using Isinay. Believe me, enthusiastic din sila sa paggamit ng Isinay! In the process, marami akong napupulot na Isinay Bambang at Isinay Dupaj na di ko pa narinig sa tanang buhay ko.

Hulog ng langit din itong Internet na kung saan nadiskubre ko ang napakagandang sinulat ninyo.

Pasensya na po kung makuwento ako (ganyan daw yata ang medyo tumatanda na!) pero nakalimutan ko palang ireport din na napakalaking tulong sa revitalization ng Isinay language ang paggamit sa mga kanta at dasal na Isinay sa mga misa tuwing Linggo sa St. Vincent Catholic Church ng Dupax.

Mavves an ejao ira^yu, Madam Celina!

charlz 

...............

I shall tell you some of the findings of Ms. Cruz on Isinay in a future post. But those of you who may wish to read the paper may please Google Revitalization of Isinai. Alternatively, you can type http://www.docstoc.com/docs/76123759/the-revitalization-challenge-for-small-languages1 at the top of your computer screen's search line.

A Surprise E-mail from a US-based Bambang Isinay

Got a surprise email recently from a kind-hearted fellow who I never met but, as our ensuing interchange would show, seemed an old friend.

HERE'S THE EMAIL:

Iva an Charlz,

Taon ya Isinaya^ an nai-ana^ siri Bambang.  Diyoya^ situ California manlaput sirien 1968.  Uria^ mot pojdan amtan mamba^ba^ si Isinay toy nayid an at-atup an tajun domonan kasabayat u si ba^ba^ tauwad.  (Isinay Bambang)  

Misalamata^ isi-a toy mabet ri ap-appiomad si ba^ba^  ta-uawararin Isinay.  Taon naila' ri website muad ot amma-i ri gayhaya-uad toy diyoy si tajun Isinay an mansulsulat si bilaynad sirien poto^ siri Dupax.  Diyoy ra pelat bona^mi sina Dupax. 

Attached is a Spanish-Isinay Grammar study printed in 1889. The Isinay language is preserved in this book.  I'm certain it would be of great help to you in your endeavor to put out an Isinay-English dictionary.  May the language be preserved through your love for the language.  God bless you.

Jimmie Scott Genoves

PS.     There another book in Isinay available in the internet, "Catecismo de la Doctrina Cristiana en la Lengua de Isinay o Inmeas".  

MY REPLY:

Dear Uwa Jimmie,

Adday, maserot, magayjaya, on masing-aw poddan sorpresa ri email muar isaon!

Si atuttuwanar, Uwa, it came just when I was feeling a little "low-battery" with the Isinay-English dictionary project that I'm trying to put up. Ampaylamo pirayawa^ otia tien libru mu mabus, masait on malingot attoj ri mangappiar si attu, lalo toy bea (first time ever) an dioy si attun sinajung u.

Medio mabayina^ bayao isia toy marri^ ensigidan naka-reply. You must have heard of the twin typhoons Pedring and Quiel that hit northern Luzon a few days before you sent the copy of Fr. Joaquin Lazaro's Estudio de la Lengua Castellana en Isinay. Yes, it didn't only cause us on-and-off power outages here in Baguio (and days-long blackouts in Nueva Vizcaya and Quirino); it also disturbed our internet connection in the house. Marri^ pay makabuttat beyoy miar ta man-internet otia siri downtown Baguio, toy dotdot an man-uran si masde ya tungnin podda.

Anyway, I hope I would be able to make up for my late reply. You know what, when you said "Diyoy ra pelat bona^mi sina Dupax", I immediately thought of the Scotts in Dupax who had been our neighbors (in fact, two of the Scott houses are around 100 meters away from our house in Domang and some of the Scott boys were my playmates siren unga^ tay).

It's good I have the cellphone number of Joseph, son of Uwa David Scott who I only talked with last May when I went to attend my mother's 78th birthday. Mansutsura isia (I'll tell you a story), Uwa, toy insulat ut notebook uwar di naapiar.

First, I sent Joseph this text message: "Si lavi, joseph. Santuwom man i amam mu dioy si pangivan yu an JIMMIE SCOTT GENOVES. Nan-email ampay isaon toy nabalitanan mangap-appia^ si isinay dictionary. Amtanan man-isinay toy dati anun taga-bambang nanung an nan-otan USA. Dioy ra anut relatives na sina dupax."

Joseph's reply was this: "O, uwa, pinsan buo ni amang."

Wanting more details, I texted him this: "Andere, lei o mu bavayi? Mari^ ampay segurado mu ande tawaj uwar, mu sir o mu madam. Adday, manggayjaya re mu subveta^ di email nar. Si^nu mot ni tinaw-on nar?"

Joseph Scott: "Mari' cgurado edad nar, beyaw ot unga mu si ancle totoy, dauway poda nu isi'a re.. isinay bambang takallo... Uwa mot lohom ayah mwar isiya. Ana' lola diana scott an ivan lolo condrado scott an aman amang un david."

My text message again: "Suspetsa ar iman ya dauway mu saon toy 1968 la anun immoy siri california. Ande sostowar ngaron uncle mun yoles? Marawum santuwo na mu ibalita^ an nantext ta."

Joseph again (answering my "panantu" about the full name of Uwa Yoles and my earlier query what your probable age is): "Eulises salgado scott. Dauway ana' lei da papa ado on mama dora'. Halos kaedad na."

My parting text to Joseph: "Ay atdi... sige man emaila mu bijat. Ibalita^ tu isia mu ande ri subvet nar. Thank you, joseph. Musta mot lojom i amam. Nxt an umuli ya^ ya mampasyala^ abuwew."

Back to you, Uwa Jimmie. Misalsalamata^ podda toy impawit mu ri libru war. I should say you didn't only make my day (and week!) fruitful but also gave a major, major boost to my writing on Isinay, especially the dictionary I am trying to complete.

You know what happened? For the past few days that I could not reply to your email, I spent many exciting hours going over the pages of Lengua Castellana en Isinay. In the process, I got to learn that, except for a few words (such as ela, eman, lea-i, babayi, and manuara), Bambang Isinay and Dupax Isinay were very much the same when the book was printed (1889) or during the Spanish period. Yes, if Fr. Joaquin Lazaro fully based his book on Isinay Bambang, I was curious to discover that he even used the word "mebbes" instead of the "mabbet" currently used in Isinay Bambang.

I shall write about my findings and reactions to the book in my Isinay-Bird blogsite, so you are please welcome to visit the site again one of these days. But, before that, I have to buy a copy of Spanish dictionary so that I would be able to supplement whatever is left of my 60-year-old brain's man-oj o mu uritti^ poddan naadal ut Spanish siren nan-escuela^ St. Mary's Dupax on siren nangeya^ si Spanish 1 on Spanish 2 subjects siri UP Los Baños.

Atdi tay lojom, Uwa Jimmie. Again, pasencia amot toy marri^ naka-reply ensigida. I hope an mabbet dotdot on matde tay ri batang muad!

Iva mar an Irupaj,
charlz

JIMMIE AGAIN:
From: Jimmie Genoves <genovesj@yahoo.com>
To: Charlz Castro <charlz1951@yahoo.com>
Sent: Monday, October 10, 2011 11:22 AM
Subject: Re: Estudio de la Lengua Castellana en Isinay

Hi, Charlz,

Mabet an ejaw isi-a, Iva.

About myself:  I met Joseph Scott a couple of times when I visited in Dupax over 50 years ago.  I remember him as an amicable, lively and very likeable fellow.  He would not remember me well as he was probably seven years of age when I met him.
My mother, Melviney Esnaola Scott, was Conrado Scott's sister.  Their other siblings: Elizabeth (Diana), Leana (resides in Florida) , Randolph, and Jeremiah (resides in California).     Totoy (Benito Jr) is my elder brother. 

In parting, here's something very interesting: About 10 years ago while I was in Florida, I visited  with Bella (Magalad ?) Lamb, a cousin of mine from Dupax.   While I was in her home, she contacted a cousin who lived in England.   I think she's a daughter of David Scott.  Charlz, have you ever imagined listening to one from Dupax speaking Dupax Isinay with another from Dupax.  Well, when Bella and Cousin (I forgot her name. I met her when she was very young.) were conversing, I heard the melodious "sing-song" accent of Isinay Dupax between the two.  The Dupax accent was so pronounced that it instantly made me homesick.   The musical accent of spoken Dupax Isinay is quaintly unique as the language is.   The interesting thing is when Cousin spoke in English with me, she spoke in purely English accent without any trace of another national origin.  It's interesting how one can switch from a heavy accent to a totally different and unrelated one.

I'm very glad that the book will be of help to you.  Check out also "Catecismo de la Doctrina Cristiana en la Lengua de Isinay o Inmeas".  The book was written in the 1830's.  I find written Isinay in that era to be difficult to understand.  It would be a challenge to any Isinay language researcher as it was with the writer when he wrote the book. 

Please pass on my regards and love to my relatives in Dupax.
I wish you the best. 
The Lord be in your spirit.

Jimmie

PS.  Charlz, what's your mailing address?

HERE WAS ME AGAIN:

Dear Uwa Jimmie,

That was quick! I thought I'd never hear from you again but here you are.

Your description of the melodious "sing-song" accent of IsinayDupax made me laugh, Uwa. All along, I thought Bambang Isinay was more musical compared to the staccato and argumentative sound of Isinay Dupaj. You see, I stayed in Buag when I was Grade 1 for some months at the Bambang Central Elementary School (near the mountain road connecting downtown Bambang and the Junction near San Antonio) and I liked the tone of the Isinay spoken there.

You mentioned your cousin Bella. If she is 61 or 63 now, I think she was the one who lived with Ina Dora^ Scott and her maiden name is Guiab, not Magalad. If I'm not also mistaken, your cousin in England is named Elsa. I guess I'll have to ask Joseph though.

I already have a copy of the Catecismo de la Doctrina Cristiana that I downloaded from the internet last year yet. Published in 1876, it is supposed to be the oldest book in Isinay.You're correct -- its Isinay is very difficult to understand, particularly that the spellings are using the now obsolete orthography for Philippine languages. 

What I'm raring to get hold of is the book Isinay Texts and Translations by Ernesto Constantino. I tried downloading it but I only managed to get a few paragraphs. Printed only in 1982, I think its Japanese publishers have not released it yet for free reading in the internet.

By the way, Uwa Jimmie, may I publish our email exchanges in my isinay-bird blogsite? I want your letter to serve as prelude to my "book review" of the Spanish-Isinay grammar book you so kindly sent. 

Your fellow Isinay advocate,

charlz

PS

Oh yes, my mailing and home address is:

88 Amistad Road, Camp 7

Baguio City 2600, Philippines

When Halloween Was Somewhat Merrier Than Christmas

It was a time when the whole village went abuzz with the womenfolk pounding, winnowing and sieving glutinous rice, a time when men climbed coconuts and brought down the mature ones to be grated for their creamy milk, a time when the neighborhood became redolent with banana leaves roasting on flat tin sheets and when every kitchen had some native cakes being cooked, a time when we kids stopped going outdoors and stayed home so we would be the first to taste the tupig, baduya, linapet, pinais, and busi that made the season more exciting than Christmas.

If there is one thing that I wish could be restored to the place of my childhood -- aside from the sylvan hills, the fish-rich river, and the Eagle Swing Orchestra and St. Vincent Orchestra playing martial music around the main roads of Dupax days before Christmas to wake up people to go to the misa de gallo (dawn mass) at the centuries-old Roman Catholic church -- it was the way Halloween was celebrated in the barrio that cradled my formative years.

Halloween was of course an English term we learned in grade school. And it referred to the two-day event -- that is, Nov. 1 or All Saints Day and Nov. 2 or All Souls Day -- that we preferred to call "kararua" in both Ilocano and Isinay.


The Tagalog, Ilocano or even Isinay call it Undas now.

And, yes, Virginia... it is no longer observed the way it used to be.

When I was a boy, the observance of  Kararua took several days, a large part of which was, admittedly, not spent in the cemetery. Where I lived, its celebration went to such an extent that, instead of grieving for "the faithful departed," we faced no rebuke whenever we greeted friends and  relatives we would meet in the narrow village lanes a sort of "Happy All Souls' Day" with the Ilocano "Kararuayo, apo!"

I am connecting the dots of the past now, and I find that much of the kararua season's merriment and festivities during my boyhood revolved around or were mostly caused by native rice delicacies, particularly tupig -- a popular almost foot-long or sangadangan (isang dangkal in Tagalog) Northern Philippines delicacy made of pounded glutinous rice mixed with brown sugar, creamy coconut milk, and young coconut meat, then roasted along with its banana leaf wrapper on top of flattened tin sheets heated by wood charcoal.

There was of course more to Kararua than the tupig. Consider, for instance, the following composite kararua recollections:

• It was a time that we kids of Sitio I-iyo then looked forward to with the eagerness that kids of today await the coming of Santa Claus.
• It was a time when the whole village went abuzz with the womenfolk pounding, winnowing and sieving glutinous rice.
• It was a time when men climbed coconuts and brought down the mature ones to be grated for their creamy milk.
• It was a time when the neighborhood became redolent with banana leaves roasting on flat tin sheets and when every kitchen had some native cakes being cooked.
• It was a time when we kids stopped going outdoors and stayed home so we would be the first to taste the tupig, baduya, linapet, pinais, and busi that made the season more exciting than Christmas.
• It was a time when households would better think twice of not handing over a couple or so of tupig or linapet when someone would come on your door or rather ladder, otherwise you would wake up in the morning and see one of your chickens is missing or your bamboo ladder is nowhere to be found.

The reason Kararua is not so exciting now in I-iyo is that the people there have become too many. In this particular case, the pro-life advocates (or rather the anti-Reproductive Health Bill people) would probably have to think twice.

It would have been no problem if a sizeable part of the number grow diket rice or have their own cassava plants to make into linapet.

But you could just imagine how many would come ogle at you as you waited for the delicacy to be cooked.

(NOTE: Sorry, this piece is still a stub... I'll enrich it very soon.)

It’s Time to Pass the Forest-Care Baton (Part 3)

     As children, we were super excited each time the trucks that hauled the logs from the mountains upstream stopped on our way home from work in the paddy fields or the upland farms, especially when the driver allowed us to sit atop his load of huge logs. We enjoyed how the wind brushed our faces like we were on the back of a carabao running non-stop up and down the mountain trail.

THE FORESTS OF DUPAX may not have been discovered to be habitat to charismatic wildlife such as the Philippine eagle, the tamaraw, the tarsier, and the mouse deer. But such lack might as well have been filled by the presence, as mentioned, of the Ilongots whose daring and jungle skills could put them at par with the Apache Indians.

Not only that. While our forests may not have been as photogenic as those of the pine stands of the Cordillera, at least one could say that if he happens to be a survivor of a plane crash in our wilderness, there’s plenty of wild food items he could stay alive with.

For example, bush meat from the deer (ugsa in Ilocano; la-man in Isinay), wild pig (alingo in Ilocano; bavuy si eyas in Isinay; baboy-damo in Tagalog), civet cat (mutit in Ilocano; amunin in Isinay; musang in Tagalog), fruit bat (paniki in Ilocano and Tagalog; pani-i in Isinay), and monitor lizard (banyas in Ilocano; baniyas in Isinay; bayawak in Tagalog) were common table fare when I was little.

Each time I developed scabies on my legs (acquired from eating too much igat  or eel), my grandmother would ask one of my uncles to go hunt for a monkey (sunggo in Ilocano; araw in Isinay; unggoy in Tagalog) the meat of which proved to be good antidote for skin allergies when cooked as adobo.

Because the streams and rivers seldom got murky nor dry, spearfishing mudfish (dalag in Ilocano and Tagalog; dalaj in Isinay), white goby (bukto in Ilocano; guggur in Isinay; biya in Tagalog), native perch (ar-aro in Ilocano; alalu in Isinay; martiniko in Tagalog), stone goby (bunog in Ilocano; sappilan in Isinay; biyang-bato in Tagalog), catfish (paltat in Ilocano; pattat in Isinay; hito in Tagalog), and tilapia was always a delight. With bare hands or with small nets one could get enough freshwater shrimps (lagdaw in Ilocano; ajdaw in Isinay) to make into “jumping salad” seasoned with bagoong and green mango or wild button tomatoes (butinggan in Ilocano and Isinay). 

Farmers were not yet using chemical fertilizers and pesticides then, so it was very safe to collect the fresh-water shells (particularly the bisukol, leddeg and birabid in Ilocano; respectively basikul, ambeveyo^ and genga in Isinay; kuhol in Tagalog ) and edible algae (tabtaba and bulbulintik in Ilocano; bajase in Isinay) that were at the time part (not pests) of the coupled forest-and-ricefield ecosystems. 

During heavy rains when meat, fish and shells were difficult to have, there were other organic food items free for the taking be it in the forest wild or along tree-covered riverbanks. 

Depending on the season, ubog (pith of the fishtail palm), barit (rattan shoot), and tabahat (edible jungle fern) were common then. Most other days, we stuck to pako. 

In summer, many of us became entomophagous (insect-eaters) as it was season for gathering the white eggs and nymphs of the abuos (tailor ant). The months of April-June, was fiesta for us in the barrio as we trooped to the riverside to catch abal-abal (May beetle; salagubang in Tagalog). 

When rats, locusts, and mayas (billit-tuleng in Ilocano) diminished our rice harvest, there was always the wild yam (karut in Ilocano and Isinay; nami in Tagalog; kalot in Bisaya) as alternative staple food.

You might think that we had gizzards of stone then but, yes, part of my happy memories of childhood was my having been nourished by food from the wilderness that most children or even adults of today will probably not be able to taste anymore or would only be able to sniff as “exotic food” in specialty  restaurants.

FOR MANY YEARS we thought that the Amorsolo-painting-like nature of my boyhood barrio would never end. But the picture started to change when huge bulldozers and strangers on board 10-wheeled trucks came to our barrio.

At first we were delighted to see new faces. We were also happy with the way the strangers improved the muddy road that passed by our barrio and opened up new routes in the hills that allowed us to bypass ricefields and avoid several river crossings. 

As children, we were super excited, too, each time the trucks that hauled the logs from the mountains upstream stopped on our way home from work in the paddy fields or the upland farms, especially when the driver allowed us to sit atop his load of huge logs. We enjoyed how the wind brushed our faces like we were on the back of a carabao running non-stop up and down the mountain trail.

But pretty soon our love for such free rides aboard the isahan, dalawahan, or tatluhan logs faded when, apart from muddying the river (where we swam and fished) when the trucks made their frequent trips, they also brought in a lot of people whose language we could barely understand. 

With the improved roads and the free rides on logging trucks, more and more forested areas were opened up to kaingin and settlement. There were opportunities for employment in the timber-cutting areas and in the sawmills for local people, yes. But only for the able-bodied males.

As if on cue, incidences of beheading in the forest fringes have also vanished as the presence of less-than-friendly people who started to populate the hillsides and riverbanks further upstream of town may have proved too big a challenge to the Ilongots. 

It didn’t take long, however, when we got problems we had not encountered before.

For instance, our abung-abung (farm huts) where earlier anyone was welcome to seek shelter when caught by darkness or thunderstorms, started to lose their resident salt, rice kettle, and even firewood. Cornfields and peanut farms whose produce have yet to be tasted by their owners suddenly had significant quantities of their edible parts missing.

Where during the pre-logging years our rivers never got murky, a few years after logging started our favorite fishing spots got totally obliterated when chocolate-colored water spilled out of the erstwhile placid rivers and either covered its path with silt or washed away bamboo clumps and nibbled at vegetable farms and ricefields by the riverside.

I wrote an essay many years ago for Focus Philippines and the Forestry Digest about such price we people of Dupax had to pay for allowing our once thick and verdant forests to be ransacked by non-natives. I was still looking for a wife at the time, but I already felt a sense of big lose then for my would-be kids and other children who stood to be deprived of their forest heritage, so I titled my essay “No More Poems for My Children.” 

Mind you, many years later, my sentiments got echoed by the group Asin with their “Kapaligiran” song the lines of which include:

Ang mga batang ngayon lang isinilang

May mga ilog pa kayang lalanguyan...

May mga puno pa kaya silang aakyatin

May dagat pa kaya silang matitikman.

LOOKING BACK NOW, I feel sad  that even those who could in all candor say “Me too... our house was near the forest” (or words to that effect) are not aggressively tapping their forest experience to help improve life in the  Philippines. 

There was once a movie that expounded on the wonders of  “paying forward” or passing on to others whatever good things another person did for you. How I wish people whose childhood lives had been happily entwined to forests could apply that beautiful concept to the conservation of our natural ecosystems.

As it is, however, things are not yet the way we would like them to be. Henry David Thoreau, my favorite nature writer and himself a forest dweller (when Walden Pond was still sylvan and biodiversity-rich), had a similar lament: “Each more melodious note I hear brings this reproach to me, that I alone afford the ear what would the music be.”

Short of using as mantra another pertinent quotation (this time attributed to an American Indian chief), “We didn’t inherit the world from our parents, we borrowed them from our children,” what I’m really trying to say is that we adults have a moral duty to teach children on how to keep our forests well.

There is no discounting how little steps of early child exposure to things of nature such as trees and hills and rivers and forests, including the flora and fauna and culture that dwell in or are associated with them, can work wonders to young people’s attitude towards nature and behavior vis-a-vis the environment later in life, especially when it’s their time to take over from where we have left off.

For my part, even as I miss the taste of venison and the meat of wild boar... even as I long for the night music of the kulluong (boat-like wooden vessel) being pounded as upland rice stalks are separated from the fat grains... even as I miss the hourly kraw-kraw-kraw of the kalaw and the crowing of the labuyo... I wish I could do more for the forests that nurtured me to become what I am today. 

I may have already gone first base, as it were, along this path by teaching my three “forest products” to be nature lovers when they were small. In fact, they are all grown-ups now, and I recently got into the habit of nudging them with this reminder: “When you have kids of your own,  please give me and your mom the freedom to bring them outdoors rain or shine, to chase dragonflies, catch tadpoles, soak in the river, play hide and seek under the trees, pitch tent on grassy ground, watch the moon and the stars at night, build bonfires on which to roast corn and camote, etc. etc. etc. – like what we used to do when you yourselves were kids.”

I may have done my little part, too, as a forester since much of my professional life has been devoted to the information, extension and communication aspects of forestry, using my boyhood exposure to forests and nature as framework, leverage, inspiration, and wind beneath my wings. 

I have served as writer/editor for the outreach publications of the UPLB College of Forestry that included the Conservation Circular, the Forestry Digest, the Makiling News, and later the Ilocano forest magazine Anaraar.

I have been part of the UP Los Baños team of foresters that shared forest conservation knowledge to science teachers in Manila, Quezon City, Pasay City, Caloocan, Rizal, Nueva Ecija, Mindoro, Lubang Island, Iloilo, and Sultan Kudarat in the 1976-77 Forest Conservation Education Program for Elementary Schools.

I was one of the water boys, so to speak, when we were yet winning to the fold fellow foresters who found it hard to balance their timber-focused mindsets with concern for marginalized forest-based communities.

But I really wish I could do more.

As a full-fledged senior citizen now, I feel I no longer have the physical wherewithal and academic fortitude to do forestry IEC work like I aggressively used to as a young forester. Well, then, perhaps teaching forest appreciation (plus love for birds, beetles, hills, cicadas, fireflies, rivers, dragonflies, fish, and the great outdoors) to my grandchildren yet to come may compensate for this shortcoming.

I just hope that doing so will result in the kids’ becoming better stewards of the Philippines -- and, for that matter, Planet Earth -- than I have ever been.