Stuff of legend
JULY 17-23
marked the National Disability Prevention and Rehabilitation Week, apexing on
the 149th birthdate of Apolinario Mabini, whose braintrusting of the
Philippine Revolution earned him the title Sublime Paralytic.
The week was
observed with the usual paeans to the contributions of persons with
disabilities to society, and celebrated with myriad activities highlighting
PWDs being just-like-you-and me.
If there is one
PWD that is truly even way above you-and-me, here he is in this updated piece I
wrote in December 2010.
NO URBAN legend – somnolent Sto. Tomas is far too
rustic to ever come anywhere near the fringes of cityhood – but rural lore is
the town’s campanologist… okay, the ringer of the church bells for over 50
years.
So what’s so extraordinary about him? It just so
happened that he – Miguel Guevarra Lingat – has been blind as a bat since
birth.
“Ige” – as those close to him, our family included, is
never batty though. No matter the daily rigors of climbing the steep, narrow,
winding and enclosed staircase to the church belfry to ring the bells.
For as long as I can remember, there has never been a campanero in our parish church other than Ige. And no
other than him too who can really make the bells distinctly sound the message
intended, be it celebratory or funereal.
If fading memory still serves right, there is the palagad – slow one-two-one two cadence
of the big bell to call the faithful to early morning Mass – which turns to siyam – nine continuous dongs from the
big bell signaling the start of the Mass, and the dupikal -- continuous
turning of the small bell at the end of the Mass. It is the dupikal too that accompanies baptisms.
In those days of my youth in Sto. Tomas, we knew from
the punebre -- the slow tolling of the bells to announce
death in the parish – the gender of the deceased: the big bell for a man, the
small one for a woman.
Never been married, Ige made bell ringing his lifelong
vocation. Even on Good Fridays when the church bells fall silent, Ige does his
chore of calling the parishioners to join the night’s procession with the matraca – a clapper of wood and metal.
For his services to the church, Ige has received
special citation and blessing from Archbishop Paciano Aniceto himself, and
public recognition from the local government unit.
At last Saturday’s Most Outstanding Kapampangan Awards
rites, it was the turn of the province to honor Ige with a special award of
recognition. Instead of making a speech, Ige played the harmonica as his way of
expressing his acceptance of the award. That geysered in me more memories of
Ige from the childhood onto young adulthood I spent in Sto. Tomas.
From the third week of October, leading to All Saints’
Day, groups go from house to house at night singing the gosu -- the life of a saint,
usually Sta. Lucia – and ending with a prayer for the poor souls in Purgatory.
It is some sort of Halloween trick-or-treating mixed with caroling.
Ige made himself a permanent solo fixture of the gosu with his harmonica, playing simply
the melody.
Not so extraordinary feat there, you may say, what with
the likes of Jose Feliciano with his guitar, Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles with
their pianos lording the global music scene in their times.
So how about this yet another facet to Ige’s
multi-tasked life? That of being Barrio Poblacion’s one-man aguador?
Before the waterworks system finally came to Poblacion
less than ten years ago, households drew their potable water supply from those
Magsaysay pumps, which later morphed to artesian wells.
With the tambayuk
-- a bamboo slat over his shoulder,
from where hung two tukung – oil tin
cans filled with water he himself pumped out of the wells, Ige made his way
house after house filling the tapayan with
the day’s supply of water.
So how did he know the way to each house, I once asked
him.
“Bibilangan
ku ing takbang ku. Pakirandaman ke ing pali ning aldo keng lupa ku ampon deng
misasabing tau. (I count my steps. I feel the warmth of the sun on my
face (whichever side is heated). And I listen to the sounds of conversations).”
Indeed, he could distinguish people by their voices.
Some years back, he was passing by our house when upon
hearing me talking to my mother he blurted: “Cesar,
ati ka pala. Komusta na ka? (You’re home. How are you?).”
Extraordinary too is Ige being once known in town as
the “Incredible Digester.”
That title he got from his unbelievable capacity to
gorge on a variety of food in one seating which earned him too some money from
the side bets: clean-up he wins, left-over he loses.
In one “contest,” he finished one large bilao of bibingki (rice cake) downed with three “family size” Sprite. In
another, it was three small bilaos of pancit
guisado (noodles) and a dozen pandesito,
again with his favorite drink, Sprite, by the liters. Then there were too 20
pieces of balut at one time and eight
large watermelons at another. Never did Ige lose in any of them.
Sightless, it was awesome for Ige to have served for
long as the ears and mouthpiece of the local folk when it came to the latest
events in the community, tsismis not
included. He put to flesh the umalohokan (town
crier) of yore.
Ige got his information from the corner sari-sari stores – the socialization
sites of rustic Sto. Tomas – as well as from the households he serviced with
his water deliveries.
Pre-Pentium times, the fastest way to circulate any
information around Barangay Poblacion at the time was to have it overheard by
Ige. Especially if it came in the tone of a conspiratorial whisper.
For national news, Ige relied on the transistor radio
tied to his waist. His favorite programs were Lundagin Mo Baby of Johnny de Leon, Ito ang Inyong Tiya Dely of Dely Magpayo and Kahapon Lamang of Eddie Ilarde.
Ige got the greatest joy of his life when one time he
heard Ilarde mentioned his name and read
a story about him published in a national newspaper through the then Department
of Public Information. Ilarde ended his spiel with a dedication to Ige of Freddie
Aguilar’s Bulag, Pipi at Bingi:
“... Madilim ang 'yong paligid,
hating-gabing walang hanggan
Anyo at kulay ng mundo sa 'yo'y pinagkaitan
H'wag mabahala, kaibigan, isinilang ka mang ganyan
Isang bulag sa kamunduhan, ligtas ka sa kasalanan…”
Blind bellman. Blind musician. Blind water carrier. Blind town reporter? And magnificent eater, on the side. Miguel Guevarra Lingat is the star of folklore, the stuff of legends.
Anyo at kulay ng mundo sa 'yo'y pinagkaitan
H'wag mabahala, kaibigan, isinilang ka mang ganyan
Isang bulag sa kamunduhan, ligtas ka sa kasalanan…”
Blind bellman. Blind musician. Blind water carrier. Blind town reporter? And magnificent eater, on the side. Miguel Guevarra Lingat is the star of folklore, the stuff of legends.