"Ano na'ng balita sa bahay?"

I HAVE just finished inspecting and assessing an onshore desalting unit...where crude oil gets separated from salt...where hydrogen sulfide is present...where I had an accident (slipped from a tunnel ladder and got my knees ram onto steel tubes, my knees were swollen last night, now they’re OK). The unit is located at Tanajib, a remote area.

“Two Arabs from the processing unit went up to me for a little chat...asked about my line of work on what I do for the inspection unit. After detailing what I do as an on-stream inspector, they suddenly asked if I am British... told them I’m not. Then they asked if my parents are Brits or one of them is... I told them you are from Batangas and Mama hails from Pangasinan... both of you are Filipinos.

“They were very surprised as I am more fluent than them in speaking English. They swear and believe I have British blood in me... I don’t, I know Caucasians and I’m far from being one of them...then an Iranian asked perhaps I have American blood in me... susmeh, Pinoy nga, hello...ang kulit minsan ng tao, ano?

“Tomorrow I will be doing Safaniya plant R74 gas plant, where sweet oil gets processed (fact: sweet oil or light oil is more expensive than crude or heavy oil). Hopefully I won’t slip, masakit matuhod… I have had lots of accidents but this one hurts like hell.

“Ano na’ng balita sa bahay?”

Dalawang maikling kuwento lang ang naiambag ko sa “Liwayway” na tila 5,000 sipi na lang bawat linggo ang inililimbag para sa mambabasa nito—P270 ang bayad sa bawat kuwento’t hindi na siguro mauulit pang mag-ambag uli ako. Oo, konti na lang ang mambabasa.

Mas malaki ang tabo sa TV, but the writing jobs are firmly gripped by tentacles of coteries within the networks and they won’t moderate their greed kaya mahirap makalusot doon—saka galing sa ibang planeta yata ang ginagamit nilang wika doon, the phraseology and speech patterns in scripts betray an effeminate mindset. Hindi ko kaya ang gano’n, sabi mo nga’y nagmula ako sa bayan ng balisong at tahanan ng mga tirong, ‘yung mga lagalag na parang AWOL na sundalo na karaniwang San Miguel ang iniingatang agimat. Yeah, St. Michael as in hinebra marka demonyo.

So I have to write in English, and speak the tongue which I have been drilled in before learning the abakada. Hindi man ikinahihiya ng mga Pilipino ang kanilang wika at nakatampok nga ang anumang magmumula sa mga bakla, they’re not putting money where the mouth is, eh, ano pa ba ang katuturan niyon kundi suction slurps louder than words, pwe-he-he-he-he!

Sina Edgardo Reyes na sumulat ng “Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag” at Catalino Alano lang ang masugid na nag-uudyok sa akin na magsulat pa rin sa Tagalog. Barako pareho ‘yon. Kapwa naging editor ko.

Nasabi ko na sa ‘yong dadayo ako sa lunan ng mga Dumagat sa Sierra Madre para magbahagi ng aking kaalaman sa pagsisinop ng lupa—soil science. Ang totoo’y pagsubok sa aking katatasan sa sariling wika ang nais kong gawin. Lapat-kamay na kaalaman ang aking isasalin, ‘langya, walang bayad na pagtuturo ‘to pero maganda ang magiging pihit ng kanilang kabuhayan kung tatalima sa matututunan.

Binigyan nga pala uli ako ng panibagong gawang sulatin. Aklat. Tungkol na naman sa nutrition, one area of expertise I’ve warmed to and freely did spadework to deepen my knowledge. Magandang magbayad ang pasulatan na nagpapasulat. And I have to write in English as usual.

Teka nga pala, your great grandfather on my family side spoke fluent Spanish that must have been convent-drilled into him. He had Iberian features, a Castilian air about him and a haughty, aristocratic gait. Yabang? Like it or not, you’ve got some Caucasian blood in you and the quaint shapes of our noses are a telltale mark of such far-removed origins we want to remove but just can’t.

Balita sa bahay… Kami lang ng Mama mo saka mga aso’t pusa ang madalas na nasa bahay.