Why Do I Feel A Bit Lonely This Christmas?

It’s 8:32, evening of Christmas Day, December 2014.  For a couple of years now, Jegs and I have embraced the thought that we do not exist for Christmas as we consider the Christmas Season a complete example of misplaced dogma.  For example, why can’t we observe the spirit of goodwill 24/7?  Why must we wait for the Christmas Season to give to the poor?  In fact, if what all people demonstrate during Christmas is something they do on daily basis with open hearts, then we’d be living in a world that is much more meaningful.  We have been trying to reorient our simple lives to this direction and goal.

So, why do I feel a bit lonely at this moment when I have not felt similarly during the last 364 days?  While having dinner this evening, just the two of us, it occurred to me, “if we’re luckier next year, would it be possible to spend our Christmas in a place far removed from the hustle and bustle of a modern community and live only within the means that others strive to survive in?”  Jegs immediately said, “that would be Itbayat, Batanes?”  I thought, “not exactly, but it could be.” 

Well, Itbayat is the northernmost town of the Philippines, part of Batanes, officially one of the poorest provinces in the Philippines.  It is about 98 kilometers from the southern tip of Taiwan, and 250 kilometers north of Apparri, Cagayan.  In spite of its proximity to Taiwan, people there don’t look like Chinese.  They look Austronesians, like their ancestors.  The value system there hasn’t changed for thousands of years.  The most apparent demonstration of this is that the jails in the six municipalities and provincial capital of the province are completely empty.  There are no criminals there, and if there are they’re afraid to commit crimes.

When I left the town of Itbayat some 58 years ago to attend high school in Basco, and then, after that, attend the U.P, College of Agriculture in 1963, I recall that the place was so backward I thought people there didn’t have any space anymore to move backwards to. The roads were all muddy and filled with puddles of water during the Christmas Season.  The weather was so cold from November to February, when the trans-Siberian cold front would swoop down on the islands.  Children had to wear handmade bonnets, and adults wore two or more shirts.  Those who can afford had jackets.  People like us, who didn’t have the means, had to make do with worn out long sleeves (hand-me-downs), but most of us would wrap ourselves with jute sacks which served as both mat and blanket when we slept at night.  One of the indelible lessons I learned from my late mother about surviving in the cold was to take your bath everyday so that you will not feel cold.  “If your body is dirty,” my mother always told us children, “you will always shiver in the cold.  And when your body is clean, you will not feel the cold.”  That was lesson well learned for me.

I come from a poverty-stricken family, grew up under the disciplinarian authority of a single parent, and had to work the dirt almost 24/7 to eke out a living.  In those times, I never saw paper money beyond the one-peso denomination.  And it was some one else’s money, too.  So poverty to me was never a new experience.  It was never fun, either.

When my brother, Tino, left Basco for Los Baños, I barely remember it.  All I now recall was that the only money my mother gave him was P50, or so I thought, saved from being laundrywoman for a Philippine Constabulary soldier, from which she earned no more than P10 per month, from which we got all of our expenses.  My brother left Batanes without a sure life to live.  My mother was lucky that the then Governor of Batanes, the late Gov. Eugenio Agudo agreed to grant her request to bring along Kuya Tino as houseboy in Los Baños, because he wanted to study at the U.P. College of Agriculture.  In Los Baños, Kuya Tino was taken as houseboy of the Uichanco Family.  The family patriarch, the late Dr. Leopoldo Uichanco, was then the Dean of the U.P. College of Agriculture.  After a few semesters, Kuya Tino was hired as student assistant in the then Office of the College Secretary, when the late Professor Melanio Gapud was the UPCA Secretary.  To make a very long story short, Kuya graduated from UPCA under the Honors Curriculum (perhaps that was the last time that UPCA had the Honors Curriculum offerred).  Almost right away Kuya Tino was hired as Farm Technologist of the then Farm and Home Development Program (FHDP) of UPCA's Department of Agricultural Economics, which later became the Farm and Home Development Office (FHDO) of UPCA, and the Office of the Director of Extension first under UPCA then later under the UPLB. The FHDP was a joint project of UPCA and Cornell University.  That was the time when Kuya Tino sent me to school, starting with high school and then college (UPCA).

I consider myself extremely lucky.  I was from a dirt-poor family but I got to the best university in the country.  I was an ordinary student, but I survived the intellectual cadence at UPCA.  I was not an honor graduate, but I was employed by my Alma Mater.  I was not the luckiest graduate of my academic department because I was the first major of the department hired as an administrative staff rather than academic staff. I did not enjoy the leaps and bounds of promotion because I started out as administrative staff, then as Instructor (2-7), Assistant Professor (1-4), Associate Professor (1-7), and then Professor (2-12) every step of the ladder in all positions, which means I had to stop at every step of the promotion ladder.  Alongside, I was given opportunities to serve (additional assignments without additional pay) as Departmental Section Head, Department Chair, Institute Director, Associate Dean, Dean, Vice Chancellor for R&D, Chancellor, and then as Faculty Regent.  I was the Centennial Faculty Regent of UP, and I was assured that there would be only one Centennial Faculty Regent within 100 years.  So I can say that I have had a fair share of glory as a professional, a survivor of sorts.  So why do I feel a bit lonely this Christmas Season?

Well, for one, my Kuya Tino survived a stroke in November 2014.  I must say, I was not prepared for that one.  When your brother comes so close to stepping into the other side, it hits you like you didn’t know what was going on; that all you knew was “no, this isn’t happening.”  But, then, of course, the reality sinks in and you have to deal with it.  I’m glad that Kuya Tino is still with us.  I’m also glad that in February 2008, the UP Board of Regents awarded me the lifetime title of Professor Emeritus.  And, then, of course, the UPOU continues to give me teaching assignments, so that at least I get the feeling that I’m still useful.  So it is not that I have lost things to be happy about.  Still, why must I feel a bit lonely this Christmas Season? 

If there’s anything I am completely happy about (except the  usual LQ that happens now and then), it’s living with an excellent partner, Jegs.  I believe that both of us have installed each other on a pedestal so high, as pointed out by the singer Anne Murray in one of her hit songs, “that I could even see eternity.”

And so, why do I feel a bit lonely this Christmas Season?  I think it all boils down to one thing.  I need to reconnect to my past.  I think I need to revisit my past to appreciate what I have become.  Hopefully, that would explain why I feel a bit lonely this Christmas Season.

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