Archie - 3 years & 1 month old

Achie a.k.a. Butsoy - 2 yrs & 4 mos. old

The Bubon (Water Well)

Most of the farmers who live in their farmland or country side are getting their water in "bubon". The water is very clean, fresh and cool. It is flowing contineously. Often times, you can find "bubon" along the side of the rice field. Water springs up from everywhere. It is the source of water that supplies their rice fields.

During the day, the "bubon" is a busy place because people are washing their clothes. After the day, when clothes are all dry especially the white ones, you can see the difference. White clothes are really white! It's like you soaked your white clothes in chlorox for 24 hours.

The Makahiya (Sensitive) Plant

I was on my way home when I stumbled on this makahiya (sensitive) plant along the road. I took my digital out of my pocket and asked my niece to touch this rare plant. The leaves are very sensitive; folding when touched! Here's its characteristics:

The leaflets fold together in the early evening and reopens at sunrise. It is called bashful or sensitive because the leaflets fold together on touching, warming and shaking. The phenomenon is called seismonastic movement due to a rapid change in turgor pressure and changes in membrane permeability in the pulvini cells in the leaf regions with rapid movement of calcium ions. At night, the leaves also fold and bend, termed nyctonastic movements (reaction to absence of light).

A very interesting legendary story of this Makahiya plant! (Filipino Literature)

Once there lived a rich couple, Mang Dondong and Aling Iska. They had a twelve-year old daughter whose name was Maria. They loved their daughter so dearly. Maria was a dutiful and obedient daughter. Industrious and kind, she made herself endeared to everybody. But shyness was also one of Maria’s distinct characteristics. She was so shy that talking to people posed a great burden to her. In order to avoid encountering people, she usually locked herself in her room. Maria had a flower garden. The flowers were beautiful and know all over the town. She took care of the plants patiently and tenderly. For the flower plants were her source of enjoyment and happiness. One day news spread that a group of bandits raided a nearby village. The bandits killed every man they found and took their money of the residents. The next day the bandits came to the village where Mang Dondong and Aling Iska and their daughter lived. Mang Dondong noticed at once the arrival of the bandits. Fearing for Maria’s safety, he decided to hide Maria in the garden, which he did. Aling iska hid herself in the house. She trembled with fear when she heard the bandits forcing their way to the gate. Then she prayed, preparing herself for whatever would happen. “Oh, my God!” prayed Aling Iska, “Save my daughter.” Suddenly the door opened. The bandits entered the house and hit Mang Dondong on the head. Mang Dondong lost consciousness and fell on the floor. Aling Iska tried to escape but was also hit on the head. The bandits ransacked every place in the house. After taking the money and jewelry, they searched for Maria. But Maria was nowhere to be found. So the bandits left the house to plunder another village. When Mang Dondong and Aling Iska regained consciousness, the bandits left already. They quickly ran to the garden to look for Maria. But Maria was not there. Again and again, they searched every corner in the garden but poor Maria could not be found. “My poor daughter! They took my poor daughter!” wept Aling Iska. All of a sudden mang Dondong felt something that pricked his feet. To his surprise, he saw a tiny plant quickly closing its leaves. It was the first time he saw that kind of plant. He knelt on his knees and took a close look at the plant. Aling Iska did the same. After looking at the plant for a long time, the couple came to the belief that theplant was Maria. For indeed maria had been transformed by into a plant to save her from the bandits. Aling Iska wept uncontrollably and to Mang Dondong’s amazement, every tear was transformed into a small and round rosy flower of the new plant they found in the garden. Since then Mang Dondong and Aling Iska tended the plant with out most care. They knew that the plant was, in reality, their child Maria. And, like their child, the plant was very shy. So they called the plant “makahiya” because it showed an important characteristics of Maria – shyness – which in Tagalog means “makahiya.”

Our Previous Farms

By standing on the rice paddy, I had this nostalgic feeling while looking and reminiscing all those happy and difficult moments I had encountered while living in those places with A, B, and C marks in the picture.

At A, we used to grow corn twice every year and upland rice once we could get a newly cultivated land at the beginning of rainy season. I could still remember those times when we could not go home at night time if there was a haivy rain; when it was pouring and the river was flooding, we would stay overnight in a very very tiny hut.

At B, we did grow both rice and corn. We would stay in our farm in the mountain for weeks especially harvest season. I was in high school at that time so I had to walk in the morning and afternoon for at least 1 hour and 45 minutes everyday. I had to cross the river even if it was flooding and the water rose up to my neck or sometimes over my head. The volume of water came down the mountain and it went through Allah river that caused the flood.

At C, my eldest brother did grow corn and trees in that farm. Now, he abandoned that place because he could no longer make it anymore. He's retired!

A tour of my birthplace

Last August 2008, I had a chance to visit my family back in my home town.

I basically grew up in the province of South Cotabato but I could see from the distance the place where I was born in Sultan Kudarat. These two provinces are actually separated by Allah river as shown in the picture. There in the picture you can see a bunch of bamboo trees along the river bank, it is the place (with x mark) where I did my first cry the first time I saw the world. Now, the place was totally vacated by local people. Most of the people who used to live around that area moved to the town of Sto. Nino because Allah river was slowly moving towards their habitat. The rice field on the picture was used to be a river as years passed by it becomes dry and people eventually cultivate it for farming.

A little bit farther from my birthplace is the place (indicated with o mark) where my father was killed in 1968. We used to have a farm in that area called Mudon.