Buntings

THERE are no signs of a fiesta in uptown Cagayan de Oro. No buntings. No parades. No traffic jams. But at the city proper, one can’t help but notice. Buntings, parades, traffic jams.

A friend did wonder for a while what those buntings are for. And then she remembered: Fiesta! Same thing happened to me before. I looked up and wondered: Buntings? Why? Kung si Donya Ina (a.k.a. Michael V in “Bubble Gang”) pa, “Paki-explain. Labyu.”

The first ever column I wrote for a newspaper was about the city fiesta way back in 2003. It was Butch Enerio who suggested the topic and my reply was, What do I know about the city fiesta?

And then I found myself along Velez Street when I noticed the shadows. Clouds? About to rain? So, I looked up, and there I saw the buntings. Lots and lots of buntings. Eureka!

There are things that fall under “make it happen” and columnizing is one. There’s a history behind this column. It all started in the early ’90s when Nang Annie Gandionco would call to thank me each time I sent her a birthday card.

Greeting cards used to be one of the outlets of my unwritten thoughts. I’d buy a funny card and then write on all its vacant space from front cover to the back.

Nang Annie passed away in March 2003. Sorry if this story seems to jump from one scene to another but I don’t know how to relate this to you without morphing into a cry baby. I’d watch a TV show and imagine her commenting about the dialogue, the scenes, the actors, for that was how she was before illness overtook her life.

We visited her at the hospital where she told me that she still read the cards I gave her. I promised to give her a get-well-soon card so she would have a new card to read.

But I cried each time I tried to write to her. A few months later, she died. With the card left unsent. This time, I had to write that card despite the belated realization that there are things I should never postpone. I was crying so hard, I could barely see the card I was writing on.

After her burial, I and some friends decided to drop by SM, hoping to forget the pain. And that’s where I saw Butch who by then was already considered as a veteran journalist. I had not seen him since the ’80s when we used to be part of a trio that sang at weddings. He was a close friend of a first cousin, and that’s how we met.

Upon seeing Butch, my immediate thought was, Writing. I had been writing for the Bai Lawanen Jaycees’ newsletter Kubing and the Rotary Club of Kalayaan CDO’s weekly club bulletin, why not try mainstream media? I related to him my wish-ko-lang and he told me about the local newspaper he was writing for at that time and gave me his email address. Upon arriving home, I had an aha moment–did Nang Annie lead me to Butch so I could finally write for a newspaper? I had not seen the guy for two decades, and suddenly there he was.

For a while there, I thought how presumptuous of me to think people would read what I write. I tried to forget about grabbing the opportunity.

Five months later in August 2003, I was surfing channels when I saw him on TV asking questions in a press con for the city fiesta. So, I texted him if his offer to write for the newspaper was still open. He said yes. Then, I asked, What topic should I write about? He replied, City fiesta. And that’s when I said, What do I know about the city fiesta?

After seeing the buntings, I went home and started writing. I emailed the piece and tried to forget about it. I was always in denial. Like, if it doesn’t see print… Oh, well. A few days later, I texted Butch how the piece went, and he replied that it was published days ago. What? The first ever piece I wrote and I didn’t even had the chance to savor the moment?! You know, opening the paper, pointing at the piece, and saying, That’s me!

I went to their office, and that’s where I saw it. On the front page. With a byline that was not my name. My email add that time had the pa-cute version of my first name and the surname of my favorite author, and that was the byline. Bong Fabe, the newspaper’s editor then, was the one who used the email name, and I could not remember anymore why. But it looked good. It gave me a name to hide in. I was anonymous. So, go.

Nang Annie’s birthday is on August 29. The first column was published in the same month, a few days before the fiesta. Yes, I’m definitely convinced she’s my guardian angel on this one.

The writing eventually became a daily column––yes, daily––with its intro on the front page. It had no photo of course to maintain the mystery, and people began asking who I was. A friend who knew it was me was always amused each time her friends would tell her about the column.

The paper closed shop after about two years? I’m not sure. And I hope it wasn’t because of me. Hehe. I also stopped writing. Family first was my peg. With aging parents and a brother who was also often sick, I opted to focus on my family. It was only after the trauma––a doctor called it a phenomenon––that the family went through that I returned to writing for a newspaper, thanks to Butch and Bong again. Or was that while I was in the middle of that trauma? Oh my.

Now, I’m with Gold Star Daily, thanks to its president Bebotte Chu who was the president of the Rotary Club of CDO East Urban, the mother club of RC Kalayaan CDO when the latter was chartered in 1999.

There are things that you have to make happen, and what you’re reading now is one of them. Each time I see buntings, I’m reminded of that eureka moment in August 2003, and how they have brought me to where I am now.

There are lots and lots of buntings again in downtown CDO. And also, lots and lots of traffic. Got stuck in traffic on my way to a meeting on Monday night, which now brings us back to the resolve to leave the house an hour before any appointment. The only thing I love about fiestas is the lechon. But outside of that… Hmmm. Having lunch on the day of the fiesta itself, in a crowded house, amidst the humidity… Whew. Enough to tempt me to ask the host if I can take home my lechon share and please add several bowls of rice with that.