DWG-NCCA Bisaya Fiction Contest Winners

The long wait is over. Out of the 21 who joined the first ever Davao Writers Guild-NCCA Bisaya Fiction Contest, the three winners are:

1st Prize Winner: Ug Mingiob ang Kalibotan by Raul Moldez
2nd Prize Winner: Kadula by Brian Ang
3rd Prize Winner: Mga Dalan sa Downtown by Javin Jet Tevar

(I cannot say they're the three lucky winners because it wasn't by sheer luck that they won.)

Meanwhile, the awarding ceremony is tentatively at Bagobo House Hotel, Gov. Duterte St., October 17, 5:00 PM (tentatively).

Congratulations to the winners---and to the non-winners as well.

Yes, I am one of the 21 contestants. The bad news is, I am one of the non-winners. But the good news is, I am one of the non-winners.

A night with Cathy

[caption id="attachment_1198" align="aligncenter" width="540" caption="Tionko Ave.---one of the places in Davao City where prostitution is thriving."][/caption]

“While nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer, nothing is more difficult than to understand him.”— Fyodor Dostoevsky

“Why not child prostitution?” my research professor asked me and my two group mates, Adam and Mark.

There was a silence. I didn’t know what to say. Adam and Mark didn’t say a word either. They just looked at me, as though they were telling me not to accept our professor’s suggestion. I knew then what they meant, so I told our professor, “We’ll think about it, Sir.”

My group mates handed over me, being the leader of our group, the decision to choose a subject for our research. Early on we decided that we would be doing a research on street children. After all, they are easy to find. They are everywhere. But our professor told us that it’s very common. “Choose something that’s least studied,” he said, “a subject that’s novel.”

When we couldn’t think of a subject aside from what we proposed before, I asked our professor what he could suggest. He suggested child prostitution. “But Sir," I protested, "it would be very difficult for us to do it."

'Bata sa garapon' (Child in the canister)

A spark of insight can happen anywhere, anytime. It can happen while you're in the comfort room. It can happen while you're standing in the waiting shed. Heck, it can even happen in the middle of fornication.

It happened to Paul while he was on his way to Damascus. It happened Archimedes while he's in the bath tub.

Mine was during our Cooperative Learning Strategy Seminar. Our invited resource speaker, Mr. Ritchie Sermon, gave us an activity---the second of the three activities---called "Community Circle."

Imitation (San Pedro's haute couture)

[caption id="attachment_1174" align="aligncenter" width="405" caption="San Pedro at night (Photo by Joji Alcantara)"][/caption]

(Below is my first ever published article in The Mindanao Times. I've been searching for the soft copy of this piece, and yesterday I finally found it. How things have changed! --- Arvin Ortiz.)

San Pedro Street offers a wide variety of amusements and attractions. You have the Rizal Park which occasionally stages cultural shows, musical concerts, and dance programs. In front of San Pedro Cathedral, you have Osmeña Park which is most visited by old folks not because it offers a refreshing place to relax, but because of the speech brawl and whimsical joust frequently conducted in the park, discussing diverse issues in politics, religion, and societal ills.

Meters away, you have a line of shopping malls—Unitop, Lachmi, Fabrica, etc.—with several items inside, offering latest products of high-end handbags, foot wears, and other such luxury goods as Dolce & Gabbana, Louis Vuitton with its famous “LV” monogram, Lacoste, Havaianas, Chanel, Gucci, Prada, Marithe Francois Girbaud, and the list keeps going.

Surprisingly, though, they are sold at hugely reduced prices, which made them suspect.

Thank you, Ma'am, Sir

As my tribute to some of my memorable teachers, I wrote two essays, honoring their contribution to my upbringing. The first essay, "Ma'am G, how could I thank thee?" was published in the Learning section of the Philippine Daily Inquirer. The second, "Mr. Zombie," was published in The Mindanao Times.

The first essay is my tribute to Mrs. Lourdes Gamutan, my Lit 1 and English college teacher, whom we fondly called Ma'am G. The second one is my tribute to Mr. Felipe Zombilon, my 3rd year English high school teacher, who prefers to be called Mr. Zombie.

Of course, there are more teachers I would like to thank, most notably:

Ms. Lorna Castañares, my 2nd year English teacher. Thank you, Ma'am, for teaching me that books are to be read, not dreaded. You were the first teacher who forced me to read books. From you, I also learned that sobriquet is the other word for nickname, that a camel is also called dromedary, that a beggar can be called mendicant, and many other words. In your class, Ma'am, I experienced for the first time "The Sophies' Social" where you taught us how to sip the soup and eat the food with grace and finesse.

Mr. Romeo Rosales, my 4th year Math teacher and adviser. Thank you, Sir, for telling me that I'm good at Math even though I almost flunked it while I was in 3rd year. I know you wanted me to major in Math, but I've taken up Social Studies. Still, I haven't forgotten what you told us: That whatever we do, we must always give our best.

Mrs. Cabel, my Grade 3 adviser. Thank you, Ma'am, for accepting me in your class. I was from a private school then. Since the school did no longer accept me (I don't know why), I had to transfer to another school. My mother decided to enroll me in Kapitan Tomas Monteverde Sr. Central Elementary School. All the sections, however, were already full. Yet my mother insisited and she approached and pleaded you to accept me. You did. It's been many years, Ma'am, that we haven't seen each other. But when we do, you still remember not only my face, but also my name.

And to all my teachers---past and present, dead and alive, strict and its opposite, rich and wretched, cold and senile---thank you Ma'am, Sir.