University of San Jose - Recoletos

Magallanes St. 6000 Cebu City Philippines

College of Commerce

LITERATURE - 1

Region 11: Davao Region

Date of Reporting: March 8, 2019

Submitted by:
Baladhay, Bench Kent
Labasano, Khaye
Peñalosa, Cy
Rodrigo, Marianne Rikki M.
03/06/19

Submitted to:
Mrs. Marietta D. Bongcales
 TABLE OF CONTENT

……………………………………………
Reporting matrix and goal 3
……………………………………………
Tasking 3-4

Ice Breaker & Game mechanics …………………………………………… 4

Role play: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets ……………………………………………
5
Parody
……………………………………………
Topic 1: Introduction and brief history of the region 5-6

Topic 2: Love in the cornhusks …………………………………………… 6 - 12

……………………………………………
Topic 3: Bagobo Riddles 12 - 13
……………………………………………
Topic 4: Folk songs 13
……………………………………………
Summary/Conclusion 13
……………………………………………
Sources 13

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Reporting Matrix

ACTIVITY TIME DURATION

Preparation 2:00 pm - 2:05 pm 5 mins.

Class Briefing and Ice

2:05 pm - 2:15 pm 10 mins
breaker

Lesson proper 2:15 pm - 3:00 pm 45 mins.

TOTAL MINUTES: 60 mins.

Goal:
 To provide an interactive reporting.
 To ensure that the report is simplified and can be easily understood by the class.
 To ensure that the class will learn.
 To promote and enhance one`s ability to work as a team.

Tasking

BEFORE

Task In-charge

PowerPoint presentation Marianne Rikki M. Rodrigo

Written output Bench Kent Baladhay

Khaye Labasano
Cy Peñalosa
Marianne Rikki M. Rodrigo

Research for topic

Love in the cornhusks Cy Peñalosa
Brief historical background of Region 11 Khaye Labasano
Bagobo Riddles Bench Kent Baladhay
Folk songs Marianne Rikki M. Rodrigo

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 DURING

Opening Prayer Bench Kent Baladhay

Class Briefing
Marianne Rikki M. Rodrigo
Ice Breaker: Zoo Olympics
Game: BINGO Quiz

Topic 1 : Introduction and brief history of the region Khaye Labasano

Topic 2: Love in the cornhusk Cy Peñalosa

Topic 3: Bagobo Riddles Bench Kent Baladhay

Topic 4: Folk songs Marianne Rikki Rodrigo

Summary/Conclusion Khaye Labasano

Closing prayer Cy Peñalosa

Break the Ice

Ice breaker: ZOO OLYMPICS

1. Group the class in to 4.

2. Each group will be assigned with animal sounds.
3. The mediator shall point to a group and the group shall make their assigned sound.
4. The group who lags or commits mistake shall be evicted from the game.
5. The remaining group wins the game.

Mechanics of the game

Game title: BINGO Quiz

Mechanics:
1. The class will be divided into 2 teams.
2. QUEST TIME signs are distributed in random slides.
3. First group to answer correctly may cross out the number in the giant bingo card.
4. The group to answer correctly shall play the next round.
5. The first group to complete one horizontal, vertical, or diagonal line shall shout BINGO
and wins the game.

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Role play: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets Parody

Characters:
 Marianne - MRS. WEASLEY
 Cy – HARRY
 Kent – RON
 Khaye – Davao tour guide

Topic 1: Introduction and brief history of the region

Discussant: Khaye Labasano

 Power point presentation:

Brief History of Davao Region

 Many historians believe that the name “Davao” is actually the mixture of the three
names of different tribes, the earliest settlers in the region.
 The history of the region dates back to the times when various tribes occupied the
region.
 It is believed that the Manobos, Mandayas, and the Bagobos actually occupied the
area. These are the same tribes that created the small settlements and communities
that eventually became Mindanao.
 Davao Region or Southern Mindanao consists of four provinces, namely: Compostela
Valley, Davao del Norte, Davao Oriental, and Davao del Sur.
 Davao is the Hispanicized pronunciation of daba-daba, the Bagobo word for “fire”( the
Cebuano translation is “kalayo”)
 Davao City is the third largest city in the country (Next to Cebu and Manila).
 In terms of economy, its competitive advantage is in agri-industry as its products,
papayas, mangoes, bananas, pineapples, fresh asparagus, flowers, and fish products are
exported internationally.
 The region also can be a vital link to markets in other parts of Mindanao, Brunei
Darussalam and parts of Malaysia and Indonesia.
 Other economic activities are mining, fishery, forestry and agriculture.
 Both private and foreign investors and businessman are putting up huge business
centers in the region, fueling up its commercial growth rate.

 Video presentation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkJPhDP3j9M&t=121s

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QUEST TIME: 4 Provinces that comprises Region 11.

Topic 2: Love in the cornhusks

Discussant: Cy Peñalosa

 Power point presentation:

Love in the Corn Husks by: Aida Rivera Ford

Tinang stopped before the Señora’s gate and adjusted the baby’s cap. The dogs that came
to bark at the gate were strange dogs, big-mouthed animals with a sense of superiority.
They stuck their heads through the hogfence, lolling their tongues and straining. Suddenly,
from the gumamela row, a little black mongrel emerged and slithered through the fence
with ease. It came to her, head down and body quivering.
“Bantay. Ay, Bantay!” she exclaimed as the little dog laid its paws upon her shirt to sniff the
baby on her arm. The baby was afraid and cried. The big animals barked with displeasure.

Tito, the young master, had seen her and was calling to his mother. “Ma, it’s Tinang. Ma,
Ma, it’s Tinang.” He came running down to open the gate.

“Aba, you are so tall now, Tito.”

He smiled his girl’s smile as he stood by, warding the dogs off. Tinang passed quickly up the
veranda stairs lined with ferns and many-colored bougainville. On landing, she paused to
wipe her shoes carefully. About her, the Señora’s white and lavender butterfly orchids
fluttered delicately in the sunshine. She noticed though that the purple waling-waling that
had once been her task to shade from the hot sun with banana leaves and to water with
mixture of charcoal and eggs and water was not in bloom.

“Is no one covering the waling-waling now?” Tinang asked. “It will die.”

“Oh, the maid will come to cover the orchids later.”

The Señora called from inside. “Tinang, let me see your baby. Is it a boy?”

“Yes, Ma,” Tito shouted from downstairs. “And the ears are huge!”

“What do you expect,” replied his mother; “the father is a Bagobo. Even Tinang looks like a
Bagobo now.”

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 Tinang laughed and felt warmness for her former mistress and the boy Tito. She sat self-
consciously on the black narra sofa, for the first time a visitor. Her eyes clouded. The sight
of the Señora’s flaccidly plump figure, swathed in a loose waist-less housedress that came
down to her ankles, and the faint scent of agua de colonia blended with kitchen spice,
seemed to her the essence of the comfortable world, and she sighed thinking of the long
walk home through the mud, the baby’s legs straddled to her waist, and Inggo, her
husband, waiting for her, his body stinking of tuba and sweat, squatting on the floor, clad
only in his foul undergarments.

“Ano, Tinang, is it not a good thing to be married?” the Señora asked, pitying Tinang
because her dress gave way at the placket and pressed at her swollen breasts. It was, as a
matter of fact, a dress she had given Tinang a long time ago.

“It is hard, Señora, very hard. Better that I were working here again.”

“There!” the Señora said. “Didn’t I tell you what it would be like, huh? . . . that you would be
a slave to your husband and that you would work a baby eternally strapped to you. Are you
not pregnant again?”

Tinang squirmed at the Señora’s directness but admitted she was.

“Hala! You will have a dozen before long.” The Señora got up. “Come, I will give you some
dresses and an old blanket that you can cut into things for the baby.”

They went into a cluttered room which looked like a huge closet and as the Señora sorted
out some clothes, Tinang asked, “How is Señor?”

“Ay, he is always losing his temper over the tractor drivers. It is not the way it was when
Amado was here. You remember what a good driver he was. The tractors were always kept
in working condition. But now . . . I wonder why he left all of a sudden. He said he would be
gone for only two days . . . .”

“I don’t know,” Tinang said. The baby began to cry. Tinang shushed him with irritation.

“Oy, Tinang, come to the kitchen; your Bagobito is hungry.”

For the next hour, Tinang sat in the kitchen with an odd feeling; she watched the girl who
was now in possession of the kitchen work around with a handkerchief clutched I one hand.
She had lipstick on too, Tinang noted. the girl looked at her briefly but did not smile. She set
down a can of evaporated milk for the baby and served her coffee and cake. The Señora
drank coffee with her and lectured about keeping the baby’s stomach bound and training it
to stay by itself so she could work. Finally, Tinang brought up, haltingly, with phrases like “if
it will not offend you” and “if you are not too busy” the purpose of her visit–which was to

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 ask Señora to be a madrina in baptism. The Señora readily assented and said she would
provide the baptismal clothes and the fee for the priest. It was time to go.

“When are you coming again, Tinang?” the Señore asked as Tinang got the baby ready.
“Don’t forget the bundle of clothes and . . . oh, Tinang, you better stop by the drugstore.
They asked me once whether you were still with us. You have a letter there and I was going
to open it to see if there was bad news but I thought you would be coming.”

A letter! Tinang’s heart beat violently. Somebody is dead; I know somebody is dead, she
thought. She crossed herself and after thanking the Señora profusely, she hurried down.
The dogs came forward and Tito had to restrain them. “Bring me some young corn next
time, Tinang,” he called after her.

Tinang waited a while at the drugstore which was also the post office of the barrio. Finally,
the man turned to her: “Mrs., do you want medicine for your baby or for yourself?”
“No, I came for my letter. I was told I have a letter.”

“And what is your name, Mrs.?” He drawled.

“Constantina Tirol.”

The man pulled a box and slowly went through the pile of envelopes most of which were
scribbled in pencil, “Tirol, Tirol, Tirol. . . .” He finally pulled out a letter and handed it to her.
She stared at the unfamiliar scrawl. It was not from her sister and she could think of no one
else who could write to her.

Santa Maria, she thought; maybe something has happened to my sister.

“Do you want me to read it for you?”

“No, no.” She hurried from the drugstore, crushed that he should think her illiterate. With
the baby on one arm and the bundle of clothes on the other and the letter clutched in her
hand she found herself walking toward home.

The rains had made a deep slough of the clay road and Tinang followed the prints left by the
men and the carabaos that had gone before her to keep from sinking mud up to her knees.
She was deep in the road before she became conscious of her shoes. In horror, she saw that
they were coated with thick, black clay. Gingerly, she pulled off one shoe after the other
with the hand still clutching to the letter. When she had tied the shoes together with the
laces and had slung them on an arm, the baby, the bundle, and the letter were all smeared
with mud.

There must be a place to put the baby down, she thought, desperate now about the letter.
She walked on until she spotted a corner of a field where cornhusks were scattered under a

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 kamansi tree. She shoved together a pile of husks with her foot and laid the baby down
upon it. With a sigh, she drew the letter from the envelope. She stared at the letter which
was written in English.

My dearest Tinay,

Hello, how is life getting along? Are you still in good condition? As for myself, the same as
usual. But you’re far from my side. It is not easy to be far from our lover.

Tinay, do you still love me? I hope your kind and generous heart will never fade. Someday
or somehow I’ll be there again to fulfill our promise.

Many weeks and months have elapsed. Still I remember our bygone days. Especially when I
was suffering with the heat of the tractor under the heat of the sun. I was always in despair
until I imagine your personal appearance coming forward bearing the sweetest smile that
enabled me to view the distant horizon.

Tinay, I could not return because I found that my mother was very ill. That is why I was not
able to take you as a partner of life. Please respond to my missive at once so that I know
whether you still love me or not. I hope you did not love anybody except myself.

I think I am going beyond the limit of your leisure hours, so I close with best wishes to you,
my friends Gonding, Sefarin, Bondio, etc.

Yours forever,

Amado

P.S. My mother died last month.

Address your letter:

Mr. Amado Galauran

Binalunan, Cotabato

It was Tinang’s first love letter. A flush spread over her face and crept into her body. She
read the letter again. “It is not easy to be far from our lover. . . . I imagine your personal
appearance coming forward. . . . Someday, somehow I’ll be there to fulfill our promise. . . .”
Tinang was intoxicated. She pressed herself against the kamansi tree.

My lover is true to me. He never meant to desert me. Amado, she thought. Amado.

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 And she cried, remembering the young girl she was less than two years ago when she would
take food to Señor in the field and the laborers would eye her furtively. She thought herself
above them for she was always neat and clean in her hometown, before she went away to
work, she had gone to school and had reached sixth grade. Her skin, too, was not as dark as
those of the girls who worked in the fields weeding around the clumps of abaca. Her lower
lip jutted out disdainfully when the farm hands spoke to her with many flattering words.
She laughed when a Bagobo with two hectares of land asked her to marry him. It was only
Amado, the tractor driver, who could look at her and make her lower her eyes. He was very
dark and wore filthy and torn clothes on the farm but on Saturdays when he came up to the
house for his week’s salary, his hair was slicked down and he would be dressed as well as
Mr. Jacinto, the schoolteacher. Once he told her he would study in the city night-schools
and take up mechanical engineering someday. He had not said much more to her but one
afternoon when she was bidden to take some bolts and tools to him in the field, a great
excitement came over her. The shadows moved fitfully in the bamboo groves she passed
and the cool November air edged into her nostrils sharply. He stood unmoving beside the
tractor with tools and parts scattered on the ground around him. His eyes were a black glow
as he watched her draw near. When she held out the bolts, he seized her wrist and said:
“Come,” pulling her to the screen of trees beyond. She resisted but his arms were strong.
He embraced her roughly and awkwardly, and she trembled and gasped and clung to him. . .
.
A little green snake slithered languidly into the tall grass a few yards from the kamansi tree.
Tinang started violently and remembered her child. It lay motionless on the mat of husk.
With a shriek she grabbed it wildly and hugged it close. The baby awoke from its sleep and
cries lustily. Ave Maria Santisima. Do not punish me, she prayed, searching the baby’s skin
for marks. Among the cornhusks, the letter fell unnoticed
The summary of the love in the cornhusks by aida l rivera-ford?
Tinang finds a letter from her first love, confessing his love for her. But she is already
married with a son.

Story Dissection:

 Characters: Constantina "Tinang" Tirol

Señora (the former employer of Tinang)

Tito (son of Señora)

Señorito (Father of Tito and the boss of Amado)

Amado Galuran (Tinang's boyfriend)

A Bagobo (Tinang‟s husband)

Bagobito (Tinang‟s baby boy)

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  Theme: Be wise in making decisions and be conscious of your choices.

Destiny is not a matter of chance, but a matter of choice.

 Setting:

Time: Mid 1900`s

Geographical Location: Barrio in Mindanao

In the house of Señora

At the drugstore

At the cornfield

Social Condition: Rural life

Weather Condition: Sunny Day

Mood and Atmosphere: Good vibes turned worries and regrets

 Conflict: man vs himself due to Tinang`s issue with herself about her past life
with Amado and her present life with the baby and husband, Bagobo.
 Pot:
INTRODUCTION: When Tinang visits her former master, Señora whom
she was working before she got married to ask some important matters
about the baptism of her baby.
RISING ACTION: When Tinang arrived at Señora`s house, she was
informed that there was a letter for her.
CLIMAX: Tinang discovered after reading the love letter from her first
love, Amado that she was still loved by him. However, by then, she was
already married to a Bagobo and had a son with him.
FALLIN ACTION: After Tinang read Amado`s letter, she just only
reminisced those wonderful time when Amado were still there working
to their former employers.
DENOUEMENT: Unfortunately, the story is not a happy ending because
Tinang already got married and had a baby with a Bagobo and Tinang`s
first love letter fell unnoticed on the cornhusk of the attacking snake.

QUEST TIME: Lead character in the selection Love in the Corn Husk.

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  presentation: Photo Story

About the author:

Born in Sulu, crossed over Negros Oriental in 1944 for an English degree at Siliman
University. Records toast her as the first editor of Sands and Coral, the school’s literary folio.
In 1954, she flew to University of Michigan on a Fulbright grant to secure her master`s degree in
English.
Love in the cornhusk one of five well-crafted stories which Rivera-Ford won the Jules &
Avery Hopwood Prize in Michigan.

QUEST TIME: Who is the author of Love in the Corn Husk?

QUEST TIME: What is the theme of the story as presented?

Topic 3: Bagobo Riddles

Discussant: Bench Kent Baladhay

QUEST TIME: What comes in your mind when you hear the words BAGOBO and RIDDLES?

 Power point presentation:

BAGOBO may be thought of as several groups of people, each of whom speak one of
three Bagobo languages; these languages belong to the Manobo Family. upland Bagobo
live in the very mountainous region between the upper Pulangi and Davao rivers on
Mindanao in the Philippines, whereas the coastal Bagobo once lived in the hills south
and east of Mount Apo. The coastal Bagobo were influenced by Christianity, plantations,
and resettlement among coastal Bisayans; they now reside either with the upland
Bagobo or with the Bisayans and do not exist as a separate group.

RIDDLES question or statement intentionally phrased so as to require ingenuity in

ascertaining its answer or meaning, typically presented as a game.

QUEST TIME: BAGOBO RIDDLES (SAMPLE)

ENGLISH BAGOBO ANSWERS

“As that python crawls, It “Dullug inis bakassan, Kahat dad ta
FENCE
soon bites its own tail.” ikug din.”
“When these two children “Ad’ipanaw inis anak aruwa’, SUN AND RAIN/ ALLAW
travel, Nadtinundug inis ari’ rin UWOY URAN

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The younger brother follows nadsinaggaw
him crying.”
“A very charming girl, Eating Mappiyapiya’ na mangovay Agkaat TORCH/ ANGU
up her own body.” lawa rin.
“It is a short log, Whose end
“Mobbava’ na lapuk Kannad SHADOW/ A’UNG
cannot be reached By
kaappus Kabpannatayan.”
treading over it.”
“When this child is lying, All
the datus arre unhappy; But “Atin wara’ si kawayway,
FIRE
when this child gets up, The Nagkau’g das kataptap.”
datus are happy.”

Topic 4: Folk Songs

Discussant: Marianne Rikki Rodrigo

KAULO FOLK SONG (Davao del Sur)

GINDAYA a verse ceremony chanted anti- phonically and alternately by 2 choirs at the ginium, a
Bagobo ritual performed to offer sacred food to the gods.
DURA (Bagobo war song)

 Video presentation: No videos were found

Summary/Conclusion

Discussant: Khaye Labasano

SOURCES

Bagobo. (2019). Retrieved from https://www.everyculture.com/East-Southeast-

Asia/Bagobo.html#ixzz5hK0m2lGq

Choose Philippines,Davao City I CURLYTOPS I. (2019). Retrieved from

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkJPhDP3j9M&t=121s
Love in the Cornhusks. (2019). Retrieved from https://prezi.com/vrn2nyd1olzm/love-in-
the-cornhusks/
LOVE IN THE CORNHUSKS. (2019). Retrieved fromhttps://prezi.com/gbuld7rne4ss/
love-in-the-cornhusks/

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Answer key:

1. What Region is to be reported? FREE

2. What is the title of the Davao Region Hymn? DAVAO REGION PINANGGANG YUTA
3. 4 Provinces that comprises Region 11.
4. Famous fruit found in Davao? DURIAN
5. Who is the author of Love in the Corn Husk?
6. What is the theme of the selection Love in the Corn Husk? FREE
7. Lead character in the selection Love in the Corn Husk.
8. What is your own interpretation in the selection Love in the Corn Husk? FREE
9. What comes in your mind when you hear the words BAGOBO and RIDDLES? FREE
10. As that python crawls, It soon bites its own tail. FENCE
11. When these two children travel, the younger brother follows him crying.
SUN AND RAIN/ ALLAW UWOY URAN
12. A very charming girl, eating up her own body. TORCH/ ANGU
13. It is a short log, whose end cannot be reached by treading over it. SHADOW/ A’UNG
14. When this child is lying, All the datus are unhappy; But when this child gets up, The
datus are happy. FIRE
15. – 17. What are the folk songs found in region 11 as presented?

18. Ethnic group found in Davao. BAGOBO

19.

20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

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Role play: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets Parody

Characters:
 Marianne - MRS. WEASLEY
 Cy – HARRY
 Kent – RON
 Khaye – Davao tour guide

[LOCATION: The Burrow – Kitchen - daytime]

MRS. WEASLEY: Right. Here we are Harry, you go first dear.
RON: But Harry’s never traveled by Floo powder before, Mum.
HARRY: Floo powder?
MRS. WEASLEY: Oh, well you go first Ron, so that Harry can see how it’s done. Yes. In you go...
That’s it. RON: Diagon Alley!
MRS. WEASLEY: You see? It’s quite easy, dear. Don’t be afraid. Come on. Come on. In you go.
That’s it, mind your head. That’s right. Now take your Floo powder. That’s it, very good. Now,
don’t forget to speak very, very clearly.
HARRY: ‘Davao City.’

[LOCATION: Davao – daytime]

TOUR GUIDE: Not lost are you, my dear?
HARRY: I’m fine, thank you. I- I was just...
TOUR GUIDE: Come with me. I`ll help you find your way back.
HARRY: No! Please!
TOUR GUIDE: why?
HARRY: `coz I want a tour around?
TOUR GUIDE: Oh sure! Come with me and I`ll show you around…but first (blow a floo powder
to Harry`s face)
[Harry coughs]
TOUR GUIDE: kana`y sakto
HARRY: Unsa`y nahitabo nko? Unsa man ni akong pinulungan?
TOUR GUIDE: Bisaya kana Harry

{Play: DAVAO REGION HYMN MOTHER TOUNGE VOCAL}

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4OLz12l8Mw

HARRY: (furious) u-u-unsa m-m-man n-n-na?

TOUR GUIDE: Oh that! Mao kana ang Davao Region Hymn! Barog tag tarong isisp respeto sa
kanta alang sa Davao.
{after Davao Region Hymn}
TOUR GUIDE: MABUHAY! Welcome to Region 11: Davao Region

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 LOVE IN THE CORNHUSK (SCRIPT)

NARATTOR: Tinang stopped before the Señora’s gate and adjusted the baby’s cap. The dogs that came
to bark at the gate were strange dogs, big-mouthed animals with a sense of superiority. They stuck their
heads through the hogfence, lolling their tongues and straining. Suddenly, from the gumamela row, a
little black mongrel emerged and slithered through the fence with ease. It came to her, head down and
body quivering.

TINANG :“Bantay. Ay, Bantay!”

NARATTOR: She exclaimed as the little dog laid its paws upon her shirt to sniff the baby on her arm. The
baby was afraid and cried. The big animals barked with displeasure.

NARATTOR: Tito, the young master, had seen her and was calling to his mother.

TITO: “Ma, it’s Tinang. Ma, Ma, it’s Tinang.” He came running down to open the gate.

TINANG: “Aba, you are so tall now, Tito.”

NARATTOR: He smiled his girl’s smile as he stood by, warding the dogs off. Tinang passed quickly up the
veranda stairs lined with ferns and many-colored bougainville. On landing, she paused to wipe her shoes
carefully. About her, the Señora’s white and lavender butterfly orchids fluttered delicately in the
sunshine. She noticed though that the purple waling-waling that had once been her task to shade from
the hot sun with banana leaves and to water with mixture of charcoal and eggs and water was not in
bloom.

TINANG: “Is no one covering the waling-waling now?” “It will die.”

TITO: “Oh, the maid will come to cover the orchids later.”

NARATTOR: The Señora called from inside.

SEÑORA: “Tinang, let me see your baby. Is it a boy?”

TITO: “Yes, Ma,” (Tito shouted from downstairs.) “And the ears are huge!”

SEÑORA: “What do you expect,” replied his mother; “the father is a Bagobo. Even Tinang looks like a
Bagobo now.”

NARATTOR: Tinang laughed and felt warmness for her former mistress and the boy Tito. She sat self-
consciously on the black narra sofa, for the first time a visitor. Her eyes clouded. The sight of the
Señora’s flaccidly plump figure, swathed in a loose waist-less housedress that came down to her ankles,
and the faint scent of agua de colonia blended with kitchen spice, seemed to her the essence of the
comfortable world, and she sighed thinking of the long walk home through the mud, the baby’s legs
straddled to her waist, and Inggo, her husband, waiting for her, his body stinking of tuba and sweat,
squatting on the floor, clad only in his foul undergarments.

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SEÑORA: “Ano, Tinang, is it not a good thing to be married?” the Señora asked, pitying Tinang because
her dress gave way at the placket and pressed at her swollen breasts. It was, as a matter of fact, a dress
she had given Tinang a long time ago.

TINANG: “It is hard, Señora, very hard. Better that I were working here again.”

SEÑORA: “There! didn’t I tell you what it would be like, huh? . . . that you would be a slave to your
husband and that you would work a baby eternally strapped to you. Are you not pregnant again?”

NARATTOR: Tinang squirmed at the Señora’s directness but admitted she was.

SEÑORA: “Hala! You will have a dozen before long.” The Señora got up. “Come, I will give you some
dresses and an old blanket that you can cut into things for the baby.”

NARATTOR: They went into a cluttered room which looked like a huge closet and as the Señora sorted
out some clothes, Tinang asked,

TINANG: “How is Señor?”

SEÑORA: “Ay, he is always losing his temper over the tractor drivers. It is not the way it was when
Amado was here. You remember what a good driver he was. The tractors were always kept in working
condition. But now . . . I wonder why he left all of a sudden. He said he would be gone for only two days
. . . .”

TINANG: “I don’t know,”

NARATTOR: The baby began to cry and Tinang shushed him with irritation.

SEÑORA: “Oy, Tinang, come to the kitchen; your Bagobito is hungry.”

NARATTOR: For the next hour, Tinang sat in the kitchen with an odd feeling; she watched the girl who
was now in possession of the kitchen work around with a handkerchief clutched I one hand. She had
lipstick on too, Tinang noted. the girl looked at her briefly but did not smile. She set down a can of
evaporated milk for the baby and served her coffee and cake. The Señora drank coffee with her and
lectured about keeping the baby’s stomach bound and training it to stay by itself so she could work.
Finally, Tinang brought up, haltingly, with phrases like “if it will not offend you” and “if you are not too
busy” the purpose of her visit–which was to ask Señora to be a madrina in baptism. The Señora readily
assented and said she would provide the baptismal clothes and the fee for the priest. It was time to go.

SEÑORA: “When are you coming again, Tinang? don’t forget the bundle of clothes and . . . oh, Tinang,
you better stop by the drugstore. They asked me once whether you were still with us. You have a letter
there and I was going to open it to see if there was bad news but I thought you would be coming.”

TINANG: A letter?!

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NARATTOR: Tinang’s heart beat violently. Somebody is dead; I know somebody is dead, she thought.
She crossed herself and after thanking the Señora profusely, she hurried down. The dogs came forward
and Tito had to restrain them. “Bring me some young corn next time, Tinang,” he called after her.

NARATTOR: Tinang waited a while at the drugstore which was also the post office of the barrio. Finally,
the man turned to her:

MAN: “Mrs., do you want medicine for your baby or for yourself?”

TINANG: “No, I came for my letter. I was told I have a letter.”

MAN: “And what is your name, Mrs.?” (He drawled.)

TINANG: “Constantina Tirol.”

NARATTOR:The man pulled a box and slowly went through the pile of envelopes most of which were
scribbled in pencil…

MAN: “Tirol, Tirol, Tirol. . . .”

NARATTOR: He finally pulled out a letter and handed it to her. She stared at the unfamiliar scrawl. It
was not from her sister and she could think of no one else who could write to her. “Santa Maria”, she
thought; maybe something has happened to my sister.

MAN: “Do you want me to read it for you?”

TINANG: “No, no.”

NARATTOR: She hurried from the drugstore, crushed that he should think her illiterate. With the baby
on one arm and the bundle of clothes on the other and the letter clutched in her hand she found herself
walking toward home.

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NARATTOR: The rains had made a deep slough of the clay road and Tinang followed the prints left by
the men and the carabaos that had gone before her to keep from sinking mud up to her knees. She was
deep in the road before she became conscious of her shoes. In horror, she saw that they were coated
with thick, black clay. Gingerly, she pulled off one shoe after the other with the hand still clutching to
the letter. When she had tied the shoes together with the laces and had slung them on an arm, the
baby, the bundle, and the letter were all smeared with mud.

NARATTOR: There must be a place to put the baby down, she thought, desperate now about the letter.
She walked on until she spotted a corner of a field where cornhusks were scattered under a kamansi
tree. She shoved together a pile of husks with her foot and laid the baby down upon it. With a sigh, she
drew the letter from the envelope. She stared at the letter which was written in English.

MAN: My dearest Tinay,

Hello, how is life getting along? Are you still in good condition? As for myself, the same as usual. But
you’re far from my side. It is not easy to be far from our lover.

Tinay, do you still love me? I hope your kind and generous heart will never fade. Someday or somehow
I’ll be there again to fulfill our promise.

Many weeks and months have elapsed. Still I remember our bygone days. Especially when I was
suffering with the heat of the tractor under the heat of the sun. I was always in despair until I imagine
your personal appearance coming forward bearing the sweetest smile that enabled me to view the
distant horizon.

Tinay, I could not return because I found that my mother was very ill. That is why I was not able to take
you as a partner of life. Please respond to my missive at once so that I know whether you still love me or
not. I hope you did not love anybody except myself.

I think I am going beyond the limit of your leisure hours, so I close with best wishes to you, my friends
Gonding, Sefarin, Bondio, etc.

Yours forever,

Amado

P.S. My mother died last month.

Address your letter:

Mr. Amado Galauran

Binalunan, Cotabato

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NARATTOR: It was Tinang’s first love letter. A flush spread over her face and crept into her body. She
read the letter again. “It is not easy to be far from our lover. . . . I imagine your personal appearance
coming forward. . . . Someday, somehow I’ll be there to fulfill our promise. . . .” Tinang was intoxicated.
She pressed herself against the kamansi tree.

NARATTOR: My lover is true to me. He never meant to desert me. Amado, she thought. Amado. And she
cried, remembering the young girl she was less than two years ago when she would take food to Señor
in the field and the laborers would eye her furtively. She thought herself above them for she was always
neat and clean in her hometown, before she went away to work, she had gone to school and had
reached sixth grade. Her skin, too, was not as dark as those of the girls who worked in the fields weeding
around the clumps of abaca. Her lower lip jutted out disdainfully when the farm hands spoke to her with
many flattering words. She laughed when a Bagobo with two hectares of land asked her to marry him. It
was only Amado, the tractor driver, who could look at her and make her lower her eyes. He was very
dark and wore filthy and torn clothes on the farm but on Saturdays when he came up to the house for
his week’s salary, his hair was slicked down and he would be dressed as well as Mr. Jacinto, the
schoolteacher. Once he told her he would study in the city night-schools and take up mechanical
engineering someday. He had not said much more to her but one afternoon when she was bidden to
take some bolts and tools to him in the field, a great excitement came over her. The shadows moved
fitfully in the bamboo groves she passed and the cool November air edged into her nostrils sharply. He
stood unmoving beside the tractor with tools and parts scattered on the ground around him. His eyes
were a black glow as he watched her draw near. When she held out the bolts, he seized her wrist and
said: “Come,” pulling her to the screen of trees beyond. She resisted but his arms were strong. He
embraced her roughly and awkwardly, and she trembled and gasped and clung to him. . . .

NARATTOR: A little green snake slithered languidly into the tall grass a few yards from the kamansi tree.
Tinang started violently and remembered her child. It lay motionless on the mat of husk. With a shriek
she grabbed it wildly and hugged it close. The baby awoke from its sleep and cries lustily. Ave Maria
Santisima. Do not punish me, she prayed, searching the baby’s skin for marks. Among the cornhusks, the
letter fell unnoticed

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