Friday, December 28, 2018

Thursday, December 20, 2018

Pictorial Essay

Pictorial Essay  

Photo by Dr Abe V Rotor


Supply the text of this pictorial essay.

 


Wednesday, December 19, 2018

Where have all the native fruits gone?


Where have all the native fruits gone?
Dr Abe V Rotor

 
                                 Tiesa (Lucuma nervosa), siniguelas (Spondias purpurea)

Where have all the native guava gone,
the bats and birds and the young one?

Where have all the sweet nangka gone,
its fruits buried under the ground?

Where have all the old piƱa gone,
on the upland, sweetened by the sun?

Where have all the red papaya gone,
solo by name, the only tree of a kind?

Where have all the pomegranate gone,
friendly though like the deadly one.

Where have all the pako mango gone,
to cook the finest sinigang?

Where have all the big pomelo gone,
its rind made into jelly and jam?

Where have all the red macopa gone,
the laughing children in its arm?

Where have all the native santol gone,
set aside for a large-seeded one?

Where have all the tall mabolo gone,
sapote and caimito that ripe into tan?

Gone to the genie everyone,
technology’s child becoming man. ~

 
 Black Sapote (Diospyrus digyna), Atis (Anona squamosa); 
native guava (Psidium guajava), macopa (Eugenia jambalana





Monday, December 17, 2018

Common Filipino Folk Superstitious Beliefs

Common Filipino Folk Superstitious Beliefs 
Compiled by Dr Abe V Rotor

Washed clothes should be taken from the clothesline at night, 
lest they be stolen and worn by dwarfs.

1.    All about moles: A person with a mole on his foot is a born adventurer. A person with a mole on his face will be successful in business. A person with a mole in the middle of her nose will be rich but unhappy.  A person with a mole close to his eye is attractive to the opposite sex.  A mole on the hand signifies wealth or thievery. A mole on one's back is a sign of laziness. A mole along the path of tears will be widowed. A mole on the sex organ is sign of active sex life.

2. Encountering a yellow butterfly will bring you good luck.  If a brown butterfly enters your house, you will lose money, if it is a black butterfly a relative is going to die.

At the end of the rainbow is a pot of gold. 

3. It is a good idea to change the name of a sickly child. That way you may be able to fool the spirits who are causing the sickness. 

4. The number of steps on a staircase should not be in multiples of three. Count off the steps as oro (gold), plata (silver), and mata (death). The last step must not fall on mata.

Acknowledgement: 
Filipino Folk Beliefs Blogs - Estareja, Mendiola , Alamares , Borlongan
Living with Nature, AV Rotor
Living with Folk Wisdom, AV Rotor

Sunday, December 16, 2018

Fishing for Peace of Mind

Fishing for Peace of Mind
Dr Abe V Rotor


"Through years of fishing I have counted the blessing of this sport by good health and peace of mind - my biggest catch ever." AVR

Saturday 4:00 am
A hurried coffee anticipates your thoughts in the anchored boat. The shore wakes up very early with returning night fishermen. You receive “Lucky fishing” more casually than “Bon Voyage.”

5:00 am
You anchor at 10 to 30 fathoms, your companion calculates by sixth sense. Your other companion: absolute silence. By now the fish stirs to dawn and appetite. Cast your line.

5:30 am
The fish bites. The line jerks and grows taut. Tug to drive the hook in and pull but give a little line if he goes for a wild run. Ready the scoop net, and land him in. Probably your heart jumped with a seven-pound bite, a five-pound pull, but you get only a two-pound grouper or sea trout.

6:00 am
Your second or third catch, your partner’s fourth or twelfth. And he is not unusually excited. The sea is creaseless now except for ripples of small fishes chased by larger species. Occasionally a game fish stirs or a tortoise, which feeds of drifting weeds, pops its head out and lets a heavy sigh. Flying fishes playfully glide and splash in kaleidoscope colors. You squint at the early sun.

8:00 am
You try trawling. Your partner checks bearing for distance and location and idles the engine. Your line dangles far and you hold it firm as your boat makes the rounds. You feel a tug, give an arm’s length or two of line to allow the fish to take a big bite. When the fight begins, your companion instinctively pulls the boat to a stop and you continue pulling. Play with wit. It’s dorado, carelessly strong and fast. Tire him first for easier landing.

10:00 am
The sun beats on your Mexican-rim hat and old long sleeve. You reach for cold drinks and sandwich. You see boats, perhaps a dozen, each to its own. Fishing is a highly individual sport.

11;00 am
You return and dock in. Tie your catch through the gill. Feel the weight of the bunch at your heart’s content. Somewhere around the corner men talk about the big fish that got away.

11:30
It is time to cook your catch. Broiled fish and sinigang are best for a family picnic on a weekend.

It is unthinkable that a fisherman dares to be alone at sea, aware that his life is being dependent on a defenseless frail craft. Yet freedom and love for adventure dominate all dangers, as if by going to sea he satisfies an ancient craving.

Here he seeks contemplation to break a prosaic life style. Or escape heavy social demands. The fishing line, like a communication wire, carries messages outside of convention and even rational matters. It connects two worlds – the deep and modern man. The game is primitive but it is played with fair rules.

Ernest Hemingway’s character in The Old Man and the Sea dramatizes the ritual. To wit.

“He felt neither strain nor weight, and he held the line tightly. Then it came again. This time it was a tentative pull, neither solid nor heavy, and he knew exactly what it was. One hundred fathoms – down a marlin was eating the sardine that covered the point and the shank of the hook. He was happy, feeling the gentle pulling, and then, he felt something, hard and unbelievably heavy. It was the weight of the fish and he let the line slip down, down, down, unrolling off the first of the two reserve coils. As it went down, slipping lightly through the old man’s fingers, he still could feel the great weight, though the pressure of his thumb and finger were already almost imperceptible…”

Much is said of great men who were fishermen in leisure, or in deep thoughts. Darwin and Newton changed the history of the world with their discoveries. The greatest Teacher who ever lived was a fisherman. Ideas are the greatest catch.

Through the years of fishing, or casting, and occasional big time fishing, I have counted the blessing of the sport not by my average or biggest catch, but by good health, better insight of personal values, and brighter outlook in life.

I believe that our faculties are sharpened by meditative moments through which we subconsciously sooner or later, find ourselves with more resolve to the assigned task of daily living. Incubation of ideas is like building a structure. It takes place during contemplative moments. Why many decisions are put off until after well-spent weekend?

Fishing reminds us of humility. I was boasting of my first catch. Later, I realized it cannot even qualify for an amateur’s record. Didn’t I laugh at a fisherman who hauled a chunk of coral he believed to be a big fish? The day after that, I came home empty handed and nearly lost my life at sea and he was so sorry to hear about the incident.

Millions over the world enjoy this lifetime sport. “Once a fisherman, a fisherman forever,” so goes the saying.

When the rivers and brooks run with fresh upstream water, the ponds full, and where freshwater meets the sea, or after a tempest, or during new moon, go find your fish.

Although luck plays a good part, yet experience and knowledge are no substitute. Nobody though, becomes perfect at fishing there is always something new to learn, and often it is the sixth sense that works better.

Harmony with Nature, the key to peace of mind and happiness, is probably the ultimate in fishing. Isaac Walton, father of this sport, lives with his song:

In these flowery mead would be,
These crystal streams would solace me;
To whose harmonious bubbling noise,
I with my angle would rejoice.” ~


The author's long time fishing companion, the late Melecio Martinez, proudly shows a rich catch to a curious boy - who, too, may find someday fishing a meditative sport.

Saturday, December 15, 2018

Fisherman-Teacher

Lessons you teach, they do not find in school,

No words, nor chalk, no talking tall.

                                                         Dr Abe V Rotor
Fisherman-Teacher (Internet photo)


Wherever you go your silence draws a crowd,
The strong or the lame, the shy or the proud;
Each bite, each pull, each step, the children watch;
For how long matters not. It is the catch.

Your rod a magic wand, focus of your fad;
    Under the blue sky and cap you're faceless,
And they don’t know if you are happy or sad;
    Whatever, a special guest you are no less.

Lessons you teach, they do not find in school,
    No words, nor chalk, and no talking tall;
Patience, patience, who waits is not a fool,
    Waiting for his fish whether big or small.

Years from now they too, will take over the trade,
    To catch their fish, or set forth free;
Beyond the fishing line, will they be afraid?
    Beyond patience, it’s a great story. ~

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

Big Bang – the Origin of Life

Dr Abe V Rotor

                       
Big Bang (19" x 23") painting by the author 2012

Once upon a distant past, a proto mass 
     of converging gases, too huge 
to hold on in space exploded -
     the Big Bang like a centrifuge.  

Born the universe and galaxies
     in countless numbers expanding,
countless more, orphans in space,
     our known world but a sibling.

Were this true - life so little do we know
     today from its very spawn; 
move over Oparin, move over Darwin, 
     theories past and our own. ~
  

Ring of Fire

Ring of Fire 
Dr Abe V Rotor
Ring of Fire in acrylic, AVR 2016

Besieged by advancing culture, 
a forest once sacred and pristine,
falls into the evil hands of man - 
and man loses to his old sin. ~   



Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Early Sunset of a Landscape

   Early Sunset of a Landscape

"Landscape - but whose landscape?
robbed from people, robbed from Nature..."
Dr Abe V Rotor

View from a hill in Antipolo, Rizal, June 1, 2013

Afternoon and it's already sunset,
behind gray clouds the sun's shining,
wearing a red veil over the horizon,
with dust stirred into the air floating.

Beauty in birth and death - and life,
in between - clinging to final fate
in man's hand - and oh! how lonely,
how sad, nil of hope and losing faith.

Landscape - but whose landscape?
robbed from people, robbed from nature,
from beauty sublime, to one's design
for gain and power, not for the future. 

And he speaks on behalf of progress,
measured by concrete and steel,
by the amenities of the Good Life,
in unending want, incessant fill. ~   

  

Saturday, December 8, 2018

The Eye in the Coral Reef

The Eye in the Coral Reef

Dr Abe V Rotor

The Eye in the Coral Reef, Acrylic Painting by the author 2015

The eye! The eye!
among the corals watching.
conscience of the sea,
over Homo sapiens fishing.

It never winks, it's alive,
guarding against man's folly,
whose eye, not of man,
disgraced guardian of the sea. ~

Monday, December 3, 2018

University of Santo Tomas (Founded 1611) Oldest Center of Academic Excellence

Dr Abe V Rotor


 
UST has one of the biggest student populations in Asia with some 50 thousand enrolled in two dozen colleges and faculties, from conservatory of music, fine arts, medicine to graduate school. 

Symbolic commitment for peace amongst religions.

Participants to the 7th Asian Conference of Religions for Peace, UST 2009

Graduate students take a break on a field study

On retreat for the quadricentennial of UST
Seminarians on seminar

The late Joey Velasco (in light t-shirt), is shown here with Dr Dante Lerma, and the late Dr Florentino Hornedo, and the author (far right) during his painting exhibition at UST. At the background is Hapag (Christ's Last Supper with Poor Children of Payatas QC). 2008Communications students under Dr Abe Rotor, pose with Joey Velasco (center, standing row), The untimely demise of the artist is a loss not only to art but humanity.   
 
Public school teachers in Metro Manila and suburbs pursue special courses at the UST graduate school under the government's program of upgrading education in the country.

Students working as a group is good training in bayanihan, a Filipino tradition.

Graduate students in biology study the rich flora of the university campus.

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Be part of excellence, not critical of it. (12 Tips)

12 Tips
Be part of excellence, not critical of it. 
Dr Abe V Rotor 
Living with Nature School on Blog 

 
 Be always at your best whether you are with children or adults.  Workshop on Folk Wisdom for Children; Reach Out workshop for adult leaders and senior citizens. Barangay Greater Lagro, QC

1. Plan properly to improve your performance.

2. Pay attention to details; give your work the final touch, the fine taste.

3. Success at the expense of your faith and family is failure in any language.

4. Know the difference between priority and urgency. 

5. Plan your work, and work you plan. 

6. Don't put all your eggs in one basket.

7. The customer's perception is reality, for which reason we say, "the customer is always right."

8. Have a daily updated  appointment calendar.  Be sure to keep your appointments faithfully.

9. Be mentally and physically present and alert at meetings. Be critical of yourself as you are of others.

10. Arrogance is deadly, you may be the first victim,

11. Get better each day, and never vice versa.

12. Be part of excellence, not critical of it. ~

Tuesday, November 20, 2018

It's Amihan Season: Fly on My Little Kite And Other Poems

It's Amihan Season: 
Fly on My Little Kite And Other Poems
A critique on the poems of Sister Macarius Lacuesta, SPC

“Fly on my little kite
Do not let fear daunt you,
For the hand that holds the strings
Knows best and watches over you.”

Dr Abe V Rotor
Detail of mural by AVRotor
If imagery is more vivid than vision, take it from Sr. Macarius – religious, scholar and poetess.

Fly on my little kite
Ride on the wings of the wind…
Over plains and dales,
Reach on to the heights,
Hear the whispers of the treetops,
And the secrets of the clouds.”

- Fly on My Little Kite


She samples us with the timelessness, and the vastness of imagery that transcends to all ages – the young and the old, the past and present – and beyond. It unleashes the searching mind to freedom, liberating the soul with the confidence of a hand that holds the string of that kite.

For who would not like to fly on that kite in order to see the world, or at least to be taller from where he stands, or to turn the hands of time and be a child again even only for a while? That child in all of us, it must live forever. It lives in a dragonfly many years ago we captured for fun.

“Ah, you bring me back to my yesteryears
When I would run to catch you…
The sound your wings did make was music to me…
And then the childish whim satisfied, I set you free.”

- You Naughty Dragonfly

Adventure, simple as it may, carries us to the open field, and its pleasant memories make us feel reborn. Sister Macarius’ unique imagery comes at the heels of virtual reality as one reflects on her poems. Yet, on the other side of the poetess’ nature, she is real, she is here and now, “through open fields she walked… tired and weary, she slumped on the stump of an acacia tree.” From here she journeyed to the deep recesses of the roots of the sturdy tree. How forceful, how keen are her thoughts, true to being a devout religious.

“For their roots journey to the deep earth 
Was a determined search for water,
Unmindful of the encounter with darkness,
Where cold and heat would not reach.”


- Journey to the Deep.


Faith is as deep as the roots of a sturdy tree. Such analogy refines the moral of the poem. It is a parable in itself. The poetess paused. In prayer she said in the last part of the poem, poignant yet firm and believing in the fullness of thrust and confidence of a Supreme Being.

“Lord, sink my roots into the depths of unwavering faith in You;
Help me believe that in my encounter
With darkness, hope may be borne
And my life will manifest all
The goodness, the beauty that is You.”
- Journey to the Deep

While poems do not drive a lesson like hitting a nail on the head, so to speak, they provide a mellowing effect, especially to us adults, to accept lessons in life. Such is the commonality of the poems of Sister Macarius, Sister Mamerta Rocero and Sister Paat, who are respected literary figures of the local SPC congregation. Their poems have a deep message to the reader in the ways of respecting and loving God. They often begin with reverence for life.

“All you peoples, clap your hands and sing,
The God of Creation has done wonderful deeds
And the earth is full of His handiworks
All for you and me.”

We picture God as detached, way above the level of man. Great writers in the likes of Ralph Waldo Emerson, Alexander Pope, Jonathan Swift, Alexander Dumas and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow can attest to that. More so with Michaelangelo as shown in his mural, Creation. And yet we believe that man is the image of God. The anthropocentric view is that man was created in the likeness of God, and that he is the custodian of His creation. How lucky is man indeed to be the center of God’s attention! In Sr. Macarius Child of the Kingdom, she starts with a question, “Are you a child of the Kingdom? Then she proceeded to answer the question herself.

“Even with a sense of wonder
Holding a cup full of surprises,
Reading out to share with others
The joy of His abiding presence
Nurturing within your being 
The hope of eternal life.”


We may not know the places and boundaries of eternity and kingdom. They are too far out there for us to grasp and believe, much more to understand. Yet we have learned to accept them, grew up with them, abstract as they are, in the name of faith and doctrine. They are there laid upon the path we all travel. At its end lies our salvation, which is as abstract as eternity and kingdom.

Our modern world has become skeptical about abstract things. It is moving away from rituals of faith to rituals of entertainment. Action demands reason. Imagination cannot be left unquestioning. Even science remote from technology is theory. Religions too, continue to evolve, breaking away from the moorings of tradition and dogma. Mystery and faith are no longer the perfect partners as they did for centuries. And the world has become more vigilant against conquerors using religion for their greed, sharing the bounties of conquest with it. And religion that keeps the colonial master in power, sitting beside the throne.

Just like Christianity replaced the long revered Aztec sun god, and the gods and goddesses of Mt. Olympus that survived Roman rule but vanishing with its fall, we ask ourselves today, “Will Vatican finally lose its global power and vast wealth? Will cultism create an exodus away from the church?” And now come the cybergods, riding on satellites and the internet and entering our living rooms at any time without knocking on our doors. And here is a hydra of corporate cultures, a kind of religion itself.

Sr. Macarius’ poems do not deal with issues about faith, eternity, salvation, kingdom, and the like, endorsing them to debate. She does not act like a doctor of the church even if she carries a doctorate degree in philosophy. Yet in her own gentle way she invites the reader to the fold, riding on that little kite, running in the open field after a dragonfly.

For what is eternity but to be “a child forever,” (A thing of beauty is a joy forever – Joyce Kilmer). What is kingdom but the realm we once lived before we became grownups, in the words of Antoine de Saint-Exupery’ in The Little Prince? And salvation? Oh, it is in innocence when the conscience is not bothered. (The Brothers Grimm)

“Naughty dragonfly…I am born once again to a child –
alive and free.”

“Catch the sight of a tree… and rest for a while.”
- Under the Fig Tree

“Speak to me in the loveliness of a rose
Fresh and sparkling with the morning dew.”
- A World Full of You

“You sing to me in the chirping of love birds,
Greeting each other at the break of day.”
- A World Full of You

“Listen to the story of that grand mountain
Like a faithful sentinel standing there.”
- Fly on My Little Kite.”

“How blest and gifted I am to be one
With a beautiful world.”
- A World Full of You

“Lord, help me become the child of Your Kingdom.”
- Child of the Kingdom

It was a bright morning some two years ago when Sister Macarius visited me at the SPCQ Museum. She showed me these poems. “I have not written poems for a long, long time,” she said and that started a couple of hours of pleasant discussion about poetry today and its significance. She exuded a lovely smile as she recited her poems. “Beautiful,” I said, amazed at what a septuagenarian lady can make of poetry which usually blooms in youth. That was the last time I saw Sister Macarius.

The amihan wind had just arrived. I saw a tarat bird perched on the nearby caimito tree singing. Up in the sky a kite was flying. I remembered Sister Macarius.

“Fly on my little kite
Do not let fear daunt you,
For the hand that holds the strings
Knows best and watches over you.”

x x x