Images still haunt

BENCHWARMER
Ramon S. Dacawi

BAGUIO CITY -- It’s been 20 years since, yet the image still haunts. The picture never blurred. It’s still all too clear and real, enough to still blur the eyes.

We were then weeks into “Operation Sayote”, the Baguio media-initiated relief operation launched on Independence Day with the pony boys at the Wright Park bridle path, three days after Mount Pinatubo blew its top in June, 1991. Volunteers were at the regional office of the Philippine Information Agencyt, sorting donations for the for the next relief goods shipment to lahar-devastated areas of Central Luzon.

I opened a small carton, Inside were small, see-through plastic packets containing legumes – black and white beans. Each aggregate was about the size of a child’s fist, as if scooped and placed into the plastic by a kid’s palm, Each packet was tied near the mouth with a string. Each string end held a rectangular tag cut or torn out of a notebook or a pupil’s writing pad.

Each tag bore the name, the grade and the class or section of a child, in his or her own handwriting. The names now skip memory. What I remember was that the box came from Mountain Province , I guess from an elementary school in Bontoc, the capital town. The donors are now in their middle or late 20s. Some are now professionals. Others must now be farmers, carpenters, masons. Or overseas workers somewhere out there. Some must be raising their own kids.

Whatever, whoever and wherever they are today, they were and are not what they had or now have – or didn’t and don’t have. They were and are, as far as I’m concerned, measured by how they shared whatever they could then. And because they grew up as such, I’m sure they’ll continue to share whatever bounty will come their way, this time with bigger, and therefore, more generous hands.

One is certain that that kid in Sablan, Benguet had outgrown his or her innocence that made him or her wrap at the height of the relief operations a perishable pineapple head he or she sent to “Operation Sayote” 20 years ago. Still, the image of that over-ripe fruit continues to inspire. As do the image of the packets of beans.

“Operation Sayote”, which delivered some 250 tons of relief goods to Central Luzon , was dubbed as such for several reasons. The cucurbit, native toSouth America and which grows only in temperate climate like ours up here, continuously bears fruit that can be stored for days. The vine respects no boundaries, man-made or natural. Its tendrils and shoots climb over cement walls and barbed-wire or steel fences, to share its bounty with neighbors, even without the knowledge or consent of whoever planted it.

To many up here, sayote proves to be a blessing, a life-saver, be it stewed or sautéed with or without canned sardines, or blanched and dipped in “bagoong” (anchovy paste). It’s the old reliable for farmers without land who will tell you readily their produce helps them raise and support their children through college.

Used to surviving on sayote during lean months like this, pony boys at the Wright Park 18 years ago hauled in sacks of sayote for the relief mission launching on Jun 12. It was there way of observing Independence Day, three days after the volcano started erupting.

Others who didn’t have sayote poured in perishables that spurred the frequency of the relief missions 18 years ago. The problem then was not the lack of vegetables but the lack of trucks to deliver Benguet beans, carrots, cabbage, wombok, succhini or whatever our upland farmers and vendors could give. Hours after our radio stations aired the call, the garage of DZWT-WR was overflowing.

After all, it was barely a year after the July 16, 1990 earthquake. Baguio , Benguet and the rest of Northern Luzon were then recovering fast from the devastation, propped up by the outpouring of support from all over. It was then time to return kindness.

Even our kin in the hills momentarily took respite from their mission for revolution for the relief mission. A team knocked one morning at the door of Bombo Radyo, with seven sacks in tow. “Mapulang umaga sa inyo, mga kapatid,” one of them greeted the outfit staff. “Ito lang po ang kaya naming maitulong.” Requesting anonymity and no interview, they left.

Later, men of an Aeta village in Zambales helped unload the sacks, unaware what the brown-looking sticks inside were for. Photo-journalist Toots Soberano took out a stick, broke it in half and then lit the ends with a lighter. Instantly, they were burning like torches. Faces glowed over the practical use of pine peat or “saleng” to ignite cooking hearths or to light one’s way at night.

The volunteers developed a bias for the “kulot” communities for their discipline, something wanting in some of the “unat” or non-indigenous communities they ventured into. At an Aeta relocation site in Planas, Porac town, villagers waited for instructions from their headman before unloading two truckloads. “Kayo na po ang bahalang mag-distribute,” mission leader Swanny Dicang advised the headman.

Through those months and years of “Operation Sayote”, Bernard Dicang, Swanny’s elder brother, opened his home in Dinalupihan, Bataan as the volunteers’ midway recharging center. He had them turn his goats into “pinulpugan” and his fowls (chicken, duck and geese) into “pinikpikan”. Now and then, he would order milkfish from Orani town and contact the town butcher to prepare for the arrival of the next relief convoy.

The last “Operation Sayote” shipment to Central Luzon was in 1995, loaded on Dan David’s beer delivery truck for Bacolor, the last town to be affected by the volcanic eruptions. We reached the town as it was being submerged by rain and lahar, with residents on their rooftops being airlifted by helicopters to a gym in San Fernando City.

“Buhay ang nawala sa inyo noong isang taon,” one victim told us, referring to those who perished in the July 16, 1990 earthquake here. “Kabuhayan naman ang nawala sa amin ngayon,” he added, pointing to nearby fields of green slowly being enveloped by floodwaters mixed with volcanic ash. Inside the gym in San Fernando , we saw hundreds of evacuees, some staring blankly with glassy eyes.

The image of tiny beans scooped and shared by tiny hands 20 years ago still serves as a counterpoint to that haunting image in San Fernando.
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P.S. As I was about to send this to fill this weekly space, a fellow worker dropped by with two P500 bills. She asked that the amount be used for a medical patient of my choice, on condition the donor would not be identified by name. (e-mail: mondaxbench@yahoo.com for comments.)