Architect Jose ‘Bong’ V. Lubrica bamboos up

BEHIND THE SCENES

Alfred P. Dizon

LA TRINIDAD, Benguet – A few days before “Bong” went to see his Maker. I had this thought inside myself he was “agpakpakada.” This is the Ilocano term for bidding farewell. I never had any inkling he would go, I told his immediate family the night before his burial.

 Before his passing, every time he saw me tinkering or  washing my vehicle, usually on a Sunday, he always came for a chat and would ask for a copy of this newspaper. At times, I was in a hurry, and maybe he sensed that. We would talk while I was doing the ritual and when he saw that I was about to be finished, he would say it was time for him to work. 

His office was at their home fronting our residence in Barangay Betag.It had always been that way since we were kids, I mean, wherever we saw each other, we always paused for some talk.

               

I actually spent my childhood in Sagada, Mountain Province, but every summer or Christmas break. I usually came to La Trinidad. And I always looked for him. He was seven years my senior, but I never addressed him manong or kuya. I always felt he was my “barkada” and he never made a fuss out of it.

               

Those years in the 1960s, during summer, he taught me how to make kites and we would fly these beside our houses which had some sort of a “beach” as it was a swamp. There were only three houses then in the area, theirs, ours and that of the Daquigans.

               

The houses were at the center of vast vegetable fields which stretched from the provincial capitol to the municipal hall. During rainy days, we hopped from stone to stone to reach our homes as the water would reach ankle-deep. Later, businessman Jack Dulnuan bought the nearby lot where his technological school now stands. Sofrom our house, the sunset became just a memory.

               

In early 70s, our family built another house in Brookspoint, Aurora Hill in Baguio City and that was where we went during summer and Christmas breaks. It was when I was in second year college that I returned to live in La Trinidad and I resumed my friendship with Bong.                      

               

We would have endless nights with the spirits and planned to set up a music magazine featuring hits at that time when folksinging was the fad in Baguio City, 6 km away. I always learned a thing or two about things or life from him during those talks. Every now and then, we would meet but as the years went by, both of us got busier, and so the meetings got rarer and rarer.

               

He was not your average architect but a visionary and a dreamer aside from making blueprints and constructing houses. A few years back, he talked about setting up a computer program that would stop corruption in government. Along with his sons Lloyd and Nathaniel, they pioneered the program, which was introduced to some government agencies, but there were no talkers.

               

I told him, government officials rejected their proposals to install the program in their offices for obvious reasons.

               

Then last year, along with his sons, he set up an environmental group promoting bamboo as an alternative to pine in building houses, tables, chairs among other things.  They called the groupBambourg. When he saw me in another car-washing session, he approached me, showed me blueprints of buildings made entirely of bamboo and asked if I could help in its promotion.  

               

I told him, if he wanted, he could devote a column in this newspaper dealing on the environment like propagating the use of bamboo to mitigate erosion. He agreed, but somehow, the Bamboo Maker up in the sky beat me to it.

               

At his wake, many youngsters and old folks  recounted how they joined Bambourg. Benguet Rep. Ronald Cosalan, who came to pay his respectspledged his support.

               

Perseveranda, his wife, said in her eulogy that Bong had always been a good provider and always made sure  his kids had hot sabaw (soup) during meals. His brothers and sisters said he had always been a good kuya, very tolerant, being the eldest among his siblings.

               

His mother Carlota agreed. They will sorely miss Bong. I do too. Now I regret that our talks during my car-washing rituals were short. Even in death, Bong has taught me that one should always have time for family and friends. Time is short, he would often say. Now, I understand what he meant.