Friday, January 30, 2015

Sunrise on the Farm (10 Anecdotes)

Sunrise on the Farm (10 Anecdotes)
Dr Abe V Rotor

Children fishing, painting by AVRotor

1.  Eugene and I nearly drowned in a river.

There was a friendly man who would come around and dad allowed him to play with us.  People were talking he was a strange fellow. We simply did not mind. He was a young man perhaps in his twenties when Eugene and I were kids in the early grades in San Vicente.  

One day this guy (I forgot his name) took us to Busiing river, a kilometer walk or so from the poblacion. The water was inviting, what would kids like best to do?  We swam and frolicked and fished, but then the water was steadily rising so we had to hold on the bamboo poles staked in the water to avoid being swept down by the current. I held on tightly, and I saw Eugene doing the same on a nearby bamboo pole.  

The guy just continued fishing with his bare hands, and apparently had forgotten us. Just then dad came running and saved us.  We heard him castigate the fellow who, we  found out that he mentally retarded that he didn’t even realized the extreme danger he put us in.
 happen - the pharaoh kissed Alexander’s feet.  The great warrior died before he was 33.
    
2. Manong Bansiong, the kite maker

Kites always fascinate me, thanks to Bansiong, nephew of Basang my auntie-yaya.  He made the most beautiful, often the biggest kite in town.  His name is an institution of sort to us kids.  But remote as San Vicente was, we had the best kites and the town was also famous for its furniture and wooden saints.

Manong Bansiong made different kites: sinang-gola, sinang-cayyang, sinang-golondrina (in the likes of a bull, a bird with outstretched wings and legs, and a maiden in colorful, flowing dress, respectively).  His kites were known for their strength, stability, beauty, and their height in the sky.  In competitions he would always bring home the trophy, so to speak.

Because of Manong Bansiong I became also a kite maker of less caliber, but being an endangered art there is not much variety of kites flying around. The kites I make are not common, and they probably exude the same feeling to kids today as during our time.

I made kites for my children when they were small.  Kites fascinated my late first-born son, Pao. It was therapy to his sickly condition. We would sit down together on the grass for hours holding on to the kite, the setting sun and breeze washing our faces. 

Kite Season Mural, by AVRotor

When my youngest, Leo Carlo, took part in a kite competition at UST, I helped him with the sinang-cayyang.  It did not win.  But in the following year and the year after Leo Carlo became the consistent kite champion of UST, and so he carries on the legend of Manong Bansiong. 

3. I shot an arrow into the air and it fell on a newspaper

I must have been 4 or 5 years old. Dad was reading Manila Bulletin on a rocking chair.  I was playing Robin Hood. Since our sala is very spacious (it has no divisions), anything on the ceiling and walls was a potential target. But something wrong happened. In physics a crooked arrow would not follow a straight line, so it found an unintended mark – the center of a widespread newspaper.  

The arrow pierced through it and landed on my dad’s forehead, almost between his eyes. He gave me a severe beating with my plaything as he wiped his forehead, blood dripping. I did not cry, I just took the punishment obligingly.  Dad must have seen innocence in my eyes.  He stopped and gave me a hug. 

4. I shot my finger with an airgun.

I bought an airgun from Ben Florentino, a classmate of mine in high school at the Colegio de la Immaculada Concepcion (CIC Vigan) for fifty pesos, a good amount then, circa  1955.  I was loading the pellet, when I dropped the rifle, and on hitting the ground, went off.  The bullet pierced through the fleshy tip of my left forefinger. I tried to remove it but to no avail, so I went to the municipal doctor, Dr. Catalino Lazo. There was no anesthesia available, and when I could no longer bear the pain, he simply dressed the wound and sent me home.  

My wound soon healed, and the lead pellet was to stay with me for the next five years or so, when I finally decided to go for an operation. Had it not been for my playing the violin, I would not have bothered to do so.  And it was providential. 

Dr. Vicente Versoza, our family doctor in Vigan, performed the operation.   A mass of tissues snugly wrapped around the pellet, isolating its poison. He told me I am lucky. There are cases of lead poisoning among war veterans who bore bullets in their bodies. I remember the late President Ferdinand Marcos.  Was his ailment precipitated by lead poisoning?   
  
5. The Case of the Empty Chicken Eggs


Soon as I was big enough to climb the baqui (brooding nest) hanging under the house and trees.  I found out that if I leave as decoy one or two eggs in the basket, the more eggs you gather in the afternoon. Then a new idea came. With a needle, I punctured the egg and sucked the content dry. It tasted good and I made some to substitute the natural eggs for decoy.

Dad, a balikbayan after finishing BS in Commercial Science at De Paul University in Chicago, called us on the table one evening. "First thing tomorrow morning we will find that hen that lays empty eggs.”

It was a family tradition that every Sunday we had tinola - chicken cooked with papaya and pepper (sili) leaves. Dad would point at a cull (the unproductive and least promising member of the flock) and I would set the trap, a baqui with a trap door and some corn for bait. My brother Eugene would slash the neck of the helpless fowl while my sister Veny and I would be holding it. The blood is mixed with glutinous rice (diket), which is cooked ahead of the vegetables.

That evening I could not sleep. What if dad’s choice is one of our pet chicken?  We even call our chickens by name. The empty eggs were the  cause of it all, so I thought.

In the morning after the mass I told dad my secret. He laughed and laughed. I didn't know why. I laughed, too. I was relieved with a tinge of victorious feeling. Thus the case of the empty eggs was laid to rest. It was my first “successful” experiment.

In the years to come I realized you just can’t fool anybody. And by the way, there are times we ask ourselves, “Who is fooling who?”

6.  I can “cure” a person who is naan-annungan.

An-annung is the Ilocano of nasapi-an. Spirits cast spell on a person, the old folks say. The victim may suffer of stomachache or headache  accompanied by cold sweat, body weakness or feeling of exhaustion.

Well, take this case.  It was dusk when a tenant of ours insisted of climbing a betel, Areca catechu to gather its nuts (nga-nga). My dad objected to it, but somehow the young man prevailed. 

The stubborn young man was profusely sweating and was obviously in pain, pressing his stomach against the tree trunk. Dad called for me. I examined my “patient” and assured him he will be all right. And like a passing ill wind, the spell was cast away. Dad and the people around believed I had supernatural power.

There had been a number of cases I “succeeded” in healing the naan-annungan But I could also induce – unknowingly - the same effect on some one else.  That too, my dad and old folks believed.  They would sought for my “power” to cast the spell away from - this time – no other than my “victim”.  What a paradox!  

When I grew older and finished by studies, I began to understand that having an out-of-this-world power is a myth. I read something about Alexander the Great consulting the Oracle at Siwa to find out if indeed he is a god-sent son. “The Pharoah will bow to you, ” the priestess told him.  And it did 

7. Paper wasps on the run! Or was it the other way around?

This happened to me, rather what I did, when I was five or six - perhaps younger, because I don’t know why I attack a colony of putakti or alimpipinig (Ilk). It was raw courage called bravado when you put on courage on something without weighing the consequences. It was hatred dominating reason, motivated by revenge. 

I was sweeping the yard near a chico tree when I suddenly felt pain above my eye. No one had ever warned me of paper wasps, and I hadn’t been stung before. I retreated, instinctively got a bikal bamboo and attacked their papery nest, but every time I got close to it I got stung.  

I don’t know how many times I attacked the enemy, each time with more fury, and more stings, until dad saw me.  I struggled under his strong arms sobbing.  I was lucky, kids my size can’t take many stings. There are cases bee poison can cause the heart to stop. 

 8. Trapping frogs

It was fun to trap frogs when I was a kid. I would dig holes in the field, around one and one-half feet deep, at harvest time. Here the frogs seek shelter in these holes because frogs need water and a cool place. Insects that fall in to the hole also attract them. Early in the morning I would do my rounds, harvesting the trapped frogs.  

Frogs are a favorite dish among Ilocanos especially before the age of pesticides. The frog is skinned, its entrails removed, and cooked with tomato, onion and achuete (Bixa orellana) to make the menu deliciously bright yellow orange.

9. Getting drunk at an early age.

I was already a farmhand before I was of school age, but dad always warned me not to be an aliwegweg (curious at doing things), the experimenter that I was. One morning as dad went on his routine, first to hear mass in our parish church just across our residence farm, I went down to the cellar with a sumpit (small bamboo tube) to take a sip of the sweet day-old fermenting sugarcane juice.

 I didn't know that with a sip too many one gets drunk. And that was precisely what made me feel sick, but 1 did not tell dad. He called a doctor to find out what was the matter with me. When the doctor arrived he found me normal. What with the distance from Vigan to San Vicente - on a caleza (horse-drawn carriage)? But the doctor was whispering something to dad.

Then it happened. Dad had left for the church, so I thought. I went to the cellar and as soon as I probed the sumpit into a newly fermenting jar and took a sip, someone tapped my shoulder in the dark. It was dad!

Imagine the expression of his face (and mine, too) in the dark. I sobbed with embarrassment while he took a deep sigh of relief.  

Since then the doctor never came again. And I promised never to taste my “beverage" again.

10. The caleza I was riding ran over a boy.



Basang, my auntie yaya and I were going home from Vigan on a caleza, a horse carriage. I was around five or six years old, the age children love to tag along wherever there is to go. It was midday and the cochero chose to take the shorter gravelly road to San Vicente by way of the second dike road that passes Bantay town. Since there was no traffic our cochero nonchalantly took the smoother left lane fronting a cluster of houses near Bantay. Suddenly our caleza tilted on one side as if it had gone over a boulder.

To my astonishment I saw a boy around my age curled up under the wheel. The caleza came to a stop and the boy just remained still and quiet, dust covered his body.  I thought he was dead.  Residents started coming out. I heard shouts, some men angrily confronting the cochero. Bantay is noted for notoriety of certain residents. 

Instinct must have prodded Basang to take me in her arms and quickly walked away from the maddening crowd.  No one ever noticed us I supposed. 

Two Worlds of the Swallowtail Butterfly (Papilio polytes)

 Two Worlds of the Swallowtail Butterfly

(Papilio polytes)

Dr Abe V Rotor

 
Caterpillars of Swallowtail Butterfly (Papilio polytes
feeding on citrus leaves

Obnoxious I look and smell no one dares to get near,
much less to pick me neither by beak nor tongue,
for my enemies are few, so my friends - if I know;
you see, if you are ugly and dirty no one bothers you,
like anyone else not excluding some humans;
but in my case Nature designed me this way,
and she thinks I'm beautiful, to me it is a gift of life;
surviving a cruel world. I rest now and someday
I'll metamorphose into something beautiful
in the eyes of humans, so beautiful and dainty
no one will ever ask what I was before. ~


Black Swallowtail Butterfly (Papilio polytes)
Swallowtail butterflies represent the grace and 
free nature of the ineffable human soul, as well 
as life, hope, endurance and change.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

The backyard as laboratory and workshop series:The Enigmatic Papilio Butterfly

Introducing an insect to a toddler  
Dr Abe V Rotor 

Citrus Papilio butterfly (Papilio demoleus) caterpillars appear like bird droppings, from which it got its name "bird dropping caterpillar." 


 

Mackie 2, is introduced to entomology, the science of insects, in a series of photographs. Note her expression as she gathers courage, and finally touches and caresses the caterpillar.  Photos by the author, at home in QC

 
Complete life cycle of the citrus swallowtail butterfly (Papilio demoleus). 
The insect undergoes four stages: egg, caterpillar (four instars), pupa, and adult (butterfly)
Note the transformation of the bird dropping caterpillar (first instar) into green growing up enormously (2nd and 3rd instars), until it is ready for the next stage.  Here it secures itself with a single stout thread in a 45 degrees position with head down. The pupa transforms from green to brown.  After a week or so, it emerges into a beautiful butterfly. 

The butterfly's metamorphosis is dramatically described in an illustrated book, Hope for the Flowers, by Paulas. There's a clarification though; the  pupa of a butterfly is naked, in the sense that it is not enclosed in a silk cocoon, unlike that of the moth and the skipper - also a Lepidopteran that exhibits dual characteristics of both its relatives.  Skippers are active at dusk (crepuscular); whereas butterflies are diurnal, and moths nocturnal. The classical example of a moth is the silkworm, Bombix mori, while that of a skipper is the Nymphalid, falsely identified as butterfly. 
Bird dropping first instarstage

 Top left, clockwise: closeup of bird dropping caterpillar (1st instar).  The caterpillar turns green with camouflage design, and is  most destructive, feeding on leaves of citrus (2nd and 3rd instars).  Full grown caterpillar about to pupate; early stage pupa, which gradually turns brown as it approaches metamorphosis.    

Dorsal color and pattern of the citrus Papilio demoleus showing a pair of false eyes, which scares a would-be predator.  
Close-up of the pair of false eyes highlighted by red shade around the "eyeballs."    
 
Resting position of Papilio demoleus showing the ventral side of its wings as differentiated from the dorsal color and pattern. Such difference is mistaken for two species. Disguise pattern and coloration protects the butterfly from would-be predators. The same principle of differentiation helps in the species' survival.   
                       
                  Papilio demoleus mating, showing ventral side of their wings,  
The dorsal side is partly visible. Acknowledgement: photos of the 
adult Papilio and its stages wete sourced from the Internet Wikipedia

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Where have the buffaloes gone?

Dr Abe V Rotor

Ann and Marlo in front of their ancestral home 
San Vicente, Ilocos Sur (Megabooks)

They wait for the buffalo
that pulls the cart
as I search the fields,
cross the river,
gaze over the hill,
onto the prairies of old, 
repeating the call
that reverberates 
over the plains
where a great
civilization perished.

What will I tell my children
now the buffaloes are gone?
In time they will understand. 

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Primitive Crustaceans

 Primitive Crustaceans
Dr Abe V Rotor

  Primitive Crustaceans, in acrylic by AVRotor

I live by the pen and paint brush,
     and imagination;
I live where no man had lived
     before Creation.
When concept was still unborn,
     and unknown. ~

 

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

A Twin - A Mirage

Dr Abe V Rotor 

Still life painting by AVR 2015

Beauty begets beauty, a philosophy;
     a rebirth, mirage, a twin,
make-believe art, romantic story,  
     a gorgeous, bountiful scene. ~

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Home Industry Fruit Wine (Article in Progress)

Dr Abe V Rotor

 






      







The Hideous Preying Mantis

Master of camouflage, cold-blooded executioner; among my kind, I see you lurking, and it's not for fun.   
Dr Abe V Rotor 
Preying mantis (Mantis religiosa) hidden in a flowering Cassia shrub. Tagaytay 2012

I, too, play hide-and-seek, but it's only for game and fun;
and you, you're a ruthless executioner with a deadly arm,
lurking, camouflaged ugly or beautiful.  Would I mind?   
Knowing you makes me feel honorable, proud of my kind,  
yet among my kind, I see you lurking, and it's not for fun.   

On closer look the preying mantis is clinging upside down second 

to the lowest branch. It's color and body shape fit to its characteristic 
habit, including its silhouette against the daylight.  It earned its name 
as predator of other insects, and is welcomed by gardeners.  


Saturday, January 10, 2015

A Touch of Healing (Dedicated to His Holiness Pope Francis on his coming visit to the Philippines.)

Dedicated to His Holiness Pope Francis on his coming visit to the Philippines 


Dr Abe V Rotor

A Touch of Healing is based on the theme of my book, Light from the Old Arch, which is logotherapy, a Greek word that means healing through meaning. It was Victor Frankl, a Jewish psychotherapist-philosopher who popularized this approach in keeping man’s resolve in facing the harsh realities of life, and in attaining peace of mind. It is in this state that he “discovers himself” and becomes more “sensitive for the other person.” A Touch of Healing is therefore, not only for the reader but also those whose lives he touches - in the workplace, in the community and at home.


1. Truth we seek, its bulk is under;
Iceberg its tip isn’t the danger;
Mum are we, inside is anger;
Silence sets us all asunder.

2. Feelings we may fall short;
Repressed and the water burst,
Rising into waves and froth,
Unless our anger dies first.

3. Denial to anger is just the beginning,
If anger is provoked and prolonged;
Into depression lost from bargaining -
Not enough, acceptance the saddest song.

4. The arrow and the bow,
True machine before the plow;
A hunter’s life he’d ceased
To found the land of peace.

5. To change our ways, hold your peace;
In his dungeon Gandhi prayed at ease;
Bowed on a loom he wove the cloth,
Cloth for the naked, the flag, and both.

6. Kindness without honesty -
That’s sentimentality;
Honesty without kindness -
Simply that’s plain cruelty;
Peace the duo could harness
Brings light to humanity.


7. He marched with the flag behind him
The Drummer Boy to his master’s will;
The flag drops, yet drumming still,
Fell he, knowing only the battle hymn.

8. Heavenly fire the clay took form,
Lives his soul after his ash;
Tempered he survives the storm
Lost in Eden to live with us. 

9. Late we rise at the edge of decay,

To herald birth at life’s last bend;
“Death be not proud,” the sages say,
“It’s how we’ve lived that tells our end.

10. Melodies in the air, we capture

Melodies in the heart, we keep;
Unsung melodies in rapture,
Sought and failed, we weep. 

11. Ivy, ivy on the wall,

Creeping shy and small;
Spread your arms to hide
My dark and ugly side.

12. How can the sun reach the hadal depth,

Where the world is cold, where love is dearth?
Hasn’t someone a bit of sun long kept?
Come, come and save the hearth.

13. Impossible to the old,

Im-possible to the bold;
Retire for the night,
Re-tire for the might.

14. Truth hidden when not needed

May breed lies unheeded;
And wrong a mob embraces
Is like a basket full of roses.

15. Make believe growth and prosperity;

A vessel sounds louder when empty.

16. Only good wine grows mellow with age;

So does a good man grow into a sage.

17. Up in the sky a pattern most queer,

Stars tell of the destiny of men;
Wouldn't a genius from slumber stir,
Or a faithful pray beyond Amen?

18. A vessel holds water to the brim,

Unless it bears a crack at its rim;
As men wish power in their dream
Even if they have lost their steam.

19. But children are children,

Knowing not a mob or crowd;
Curiosity, danger and dream
Lie behind a thin shroud.

20. Beauty builds upon beauty,Ad infinitum to eternity. ~