#1722 “ Bolo “ Written by: Jose Story by: Jose “ If I die in combat zone? Pack my bone and bring it home” Mama!, Mama!, Papa? Papa!, I was really enjoying those moments , when our scout team leader chanted these phrases as we marched along the principal’s hallway when I was in primary. Obviously, I was a member of boy scout organization in our school in grade three. My teacher , as our training advisor, appreciates my ability and would always calls my attention during training sessions. Besides of being the smallest in our class, I was very active in all school activities and also participative in class. I was also the one of the best students in nut tying and had recognized as one of the“ flavored of the month student” in our campus at that time. My father was a mere farmer, who tilted only at neighbourhood’s farm land. It was quite a big area where my mother and two older brothers could work together to finish every activities in less than a week. That’s my family’s have been doing for our living since our birth to get by. I had also a two younger sisters and they’re both in grade one. The rest of my brothers were already ceased in their studies and continued to focus on farming. Eventually, they were following the path of my father’s bread and butter. My father has a peculiar way in parenting his children. I remembered those days, that every time my brother and I having a mistake would always end up to a scandalous approach and maltreatment – and we’re very frightened. My siblings and I had been suffering a lot unceasingly. My mother would always react and even in a simply dinner conversation would frequently turned into a quarrel. My father has no interest and dedication to educate his children. For him, there is no future in school. His father died with so many debts as a farmer and all of his brothers are also tilting another farm lot in nearby town. It was almost end of the class, where there’s a school project and required that we’ll have submitted before the end of school year. My classmates and I were busy trimming and cultivating an eggplant garden at the back of H.E.L.E classroom. Other group were planting another variety of vegetable seeds. It was already past five o’clock, when we finished our activities, and had to continue for another class session like sowing the eggplant seeds. On my way home, at about 8 km away from school , there something bothered in me and I felt that my backpack was not quite heavy , noticing then, out of luck, that my bolo was left at the school garden. For me it’s very valuable thing to my father’s work, I have to hurry getting it back. So I run back to school as fast as I can, mumbling “It should always be there where we were working together with my group”. My eldest brother reminded me on that morning, that I have to return this thing at the end of the day for tomorrow’s activity, as what my father told to them that had to move to Mang Beloy’s land to harvest some camote . It was almost dinner time on my way back home. My heart was beating so fast, walk away from school puzzled, why I can’t find my bolo? “ It should be there,” “But there no chance of going back to school tomorrow only an hour left for that bolo to find “. “Go home now boy! “ ” come back tomorrow maybe you can find your bolo” as the school guard exclaimed in a distant. “If it wasn’t there, I know somebody found it.” My mind was running so fast, “probably my father is now very angry for not coming home early”, and “what would I tell to my brother?” Surely my brother and I will be beaten and be kneeled in a bunch of salts. Four weeks later, of wandering around the city streets, I have decided to come back home. I missed my family so much. I am jack- of -all - trades when it comes to parking attendant, car washing, and there are so many times that I have to beg to some church goers , because it’s very hard to live alone on the streets. Cagayan de Oro City is a big city, and it’s the top of my list where I can survive in begging for food and some money. I don’t like begging but what will you do when you’re alone and what an eleven years old has to do with it? “It’s very hard to find a job when you’re not qualified but it’s easy to become a street children and all of the jobs are easy”. “Being a member of a Boy scout, everything comes in handy” as I speak to myself. My passes so that I could go back home is to save money for my bus fare, barge fare just to get home to Ozamis City. It was just one- in- a millionth chances that I could go home without a single coin in my pocket , just the same as I did when I left and running away from home, stepping into a bus unnoticed by the bus inspector and pretending to be one of the passenger’s boy . Among the other street children, I am only the one who’s smart looking. I’m still wearing my blue pants and white polo - yes my school uniform, that time almost dirty white polo. I felt safe sleeping beside the church and sometimes underneath the Carmen bridge. Being small in stature, brown eyes with fair complexion, it’s my key to meet these ten - year married couple, a registered nurse and an attorney. They brought me home. In their big farm lots, there they fed me and send me to school. In my new home, I almost forgot where I came from , but I didn’t forget my mother, my brothers and sisters and of course my father. My foster parent are very affectionate to me, there I felt the love of a father, They’ll have to hug me and kiss me, and I think it is necessary to them and I had been always wondered . I think they love me very much and sometimes scolded me when I’ve gotten some mistakes. They treated me as if their own child. They know my real situation because I confessed to them and who were my biological parent. They ask me if I wanted to go home. But it is I who doesn’t want to, and I know they also wanted my decision. I finished my tertiary education with a BS Degree in Civil Engineering and proceeded my masters 2 years later in one of the prestigious universities of the city of CdeO. After thirteen long forgotten years, I really missed my family, for sure I now forget all of their faces. Will I? But I think I didn’t forget all of their faces. They’re still in my memory. I ‘ve really missed my two younger sisters,” I wonder what are they looked like by now” as I said to myself. I can’t forget them when I arrived home from school, I cooked “ lugaw “ for them and ate together. I really loved my two younger sisters. Three months before my flight schedule, bound to Canada, I’ve gotten the chance to meet and visited my family. I went home to Osamis City. I have decided to go home alone. My foster parent wanted to come along with me, but I prefer to face the challenge alone - and think it’s a big challenge for me. It’s the same feeling before, that going home that I didn’t bring and can’t find something that I had lost, but what I bring is just my knowledge and wisdom, my education and that I can be proud of , facing and telling my father that being educated is very important and helps me get good opportunity to find a better job and can alleviate us from poverty. It takes three- hour bus ride from the port to my hometown, when I’m in the bus , my heart is pounding so fast, but I’m still so excited meeting them. It was also then almost dinner time when I got home. There at the door step, outside the house, I can see some improvements, their lighted a fluorescent lamp with the new bamboo terrace. I recognized then that it’s my father’s detailed design for a terrace made from bamboo. The dogs started barking, then my younger sister swung the door open for me but she didn’t recognized me at that time, she ask me whom I am looking for? I didn’t answer but only uttered her a smile. She called my mother, and told her that there’s someone needs help for a direction and might looking for Mang Beloy’s house, It was then my father came outside to give some direction where Mang Beloy’s house was located. But I said to him “I’m going to return something”, there in my backpack I get the newly made bolo, I bought in the market, with commemorative design handled , written Cagayan de Oro City, and in the blade inscription with a name JOSE. My brothers and sisters recognized me then, and they’re in shocked expression as I looked into their eyes and they reached my hand and embraced me. It is my first time to see my father cried so deep. I went to the kitchen and gave them water to drink. Then my father and my mother embraced me. They missed me so much and I missed them also. I spent two weeks with them, before I went abroad. In God’s grace He gave us a not so big farm land where we also built our new house. There my parent and brothers are happy to tend their own farm at Ozamis , I also bought a new equipment which they can use for farming. My two sisters are now about to finish their nursing and teaching course. God design my life to be like this, and he brought angels to help me. To my foster parent, I am very thankful and may God sends down to earth a thousand of people like you. “Though I have made missteps along the way, I was able to leave my bitterness and hatred behind, to look back on the distance I have come. And I know there’s a straight road for everyone, only to realize it is hard to find” . Jose CE, XU, Graduate
Posted on: Fri, 20 Sep 2013 13:59:56 +0000