Up in the mountains, I still remember -2

Love at first sight

It was love at first sight when I reached Mati. It was a beautiful

parish with a scenery that could rival any mountain resort.

There were mountains surrounding the poblacion, which is

located by the sea. One took the pumpboat to visit many of the

villages along the coast. The farthest village of the parish was

already quite near the Cape of San Agustin. One hiked the

mountain trails to reach the interior villages. Everywhere one

went, one was confronted with such immense beauty.

I particularly enjoyed the hikes up the mountains trails. One

could see the sea--and the islands--from those vantage points.

As one walked, there was time to think, to reflect and to sing. In

some cases, it would take hours to reach the mountain villages.

But I was 25 and my life was just beginning to unfold.

However, as there was beauty, there was also pain. Mati was a

town of rich resources, but the inequality was just too stark.

One could easily get angry seeing such disparity in the people's

access to the resources.

The rich families (Rabats, Lopezes, Almarios and the like) lorded

it over the landless peasants, coconut plantation workers and

small fisherfolk. Political power was in the hands of the few elite

families; political season after political season, these families

took turns winning the elections.

One walked the mountain trails to be confronted with the sad

images of massive poverty: peasant folks working the land with

limited tools, emaciated old people, malnourished children with

bloated stomachs, houses about to collapse, and roads that

were also the riverbeds.

A very idealistic young man would scream to the heavens and

ask why such a situation persisted? The peasants in the

isolated mountain villages and the fisherfolk at the coastal sitios

had their own perspective. Thus, they didn't have to scream to

the heavens; they were patient with the heavens. Despite their

dehumanization, they had joy, they had hope. It was one of the

ironies that took me a while to deal with.

At the different activities which we organized in line with setting

up GKKs, many of which took place in their lowly chapels, the

joy and hope erupted. They sang songs about Felimon and

Bol-anons. They danced the kuratsa and hoky-poky. They fell

on their knees to pray for God's intervention in the daily events

of their lives. They brought whatever food they had and we

shared them. These tasted very delicious because one was

hungry and was grateful for what was available.

Destiny

Going around the mountains and the seacoast of Mati,

immersing myself among the ordinary folks, I was hooked. I

knew this was going to be my lifetime vocation. I was convinced

this was my destiny. God had called me to serve the poor; but I

knew deep in my heart, that the poor were evangelizing me

instead.

To serve the masses sounded very appropriate during those

times of massive unrest throughout the country. My generation

was at the forefront of owning the slogan, and some of us took

the words quite seriously. Serving the masses included political

education or conscientization--the new word that became

fashionable among church circles then.

I remember the eyes of the peasants as we talked about justice

and liberation. I remember the beating of my heart when they

spoke about their dream of justice and liberation.

In the poblacion, I continued working with the youth, with

encouragement from Father Jack and the members of the parish

team. At that time, I lived in a house with three other pastoral

workers, namely, Sr. Myrna Francia, Leonor Sevilla and Jet

Birondo. This apartment was rented by the parish and we used

it also for meetings.

In setting up the theater group, we identified a number who

would like to join the theater group: students, out-of-school

youths, vendors in the market, teachers from the local schools

and members of the parish choir.

We had a creative dramatics workshop and then called

ourselves Mga Magdudulang Mayukmok (The Theater of the

Small Folk). We re-staged ''Unsay Kaugmaon sa atong Nasod,

Manang Takya?''

Martial law

Our first performance was scheduled at the plaza by the sea on

Sunday evening, just a week before martial law was declared.

The plaza was usually packed that time of the day so long as the

weather was fine. Its location was quite strategic; it was near the

port and the commercial section of the town.

One did not need to announce performances. Once there were

lights on the stage in the center of the plaza, people would flock.

That was how hungry they were for entertainment.

That week, there was already all kinds of rumor that Marcos was

going to declare martial law. Earlier, the writ of habeas corpus

was suspended.

Sen. Benigno Aquino's loud denunciations were on the radio

and

newspapers. We had communications from Davao City and the

Social Action Center in Tagum regarding possible scenarios.

Still, we were confident that there would be no martial law.

So we carried on as if democracy was going to be alive and well

for the next century. The military, however, was beginning to

flex its muscles. We were the first victims.

There must have been 5,000 people who circled the stage that

Sunday evening in the plaza when they knew that the

Magdudulang Mayukmok was going to present a play. We

began with the usual curtain-raisers, songs, poems and

speeches. By the time we were ready to stage the play, a squad

of soldiers interrupted my speech. They came onstage. Once

more, I remember the dialogue I had with the sergeant who lead

the squad:

Sergeant : Do you have a permit to use this stage?

Me : Yes, the mayor issued it this morning.

Sergeant : Even if you have a permit from the Mayor, you need

the permit from the military.

Me : But, Sergeant, President Marcos has not yet declared

martial law, so we need only the permit of the mayor.

Since we spoke in front of the microphone, the people heard this

conversation. The sergeant lost face and knew that he had no

choice but to leave the stage. He also realized that there was

nothing he could do to stop our performance. Naturally, our

performance that evening was intense and filled with passion.