Fulbright FLTA

March 15, 2011 must have been the happiest day of my life.  That was Tuesday, when I received a call from the Philippine-American Educational Foundation telling me of my selection as a Fulbright FLTA at the University of Hawaii at Manoa.  Being chosen to Fulbright means a lot to me.  It's a BIG thing for all people because to be in, one has to pass through the needle's eye.  It is highly competitive, but the nights and months of preparation, the time I dedicated to writing my essays, and the patience of waiting paid off!

I thank GOD for this grace, my family and friends for the support, and the university where I am currently working for allowing me to file a leave of absence for 10 months while I am on my FLTA.  Thank you : )

Love, Actually Remote Control | Danton Remoto Posted at 02/04/2011 9:35 PM | Updated as of 02/04/2011 9:36 PM

***wonderfully written!


There seems to be an epidemic of love (or lack of it, alas) among people I know. In his poem “The Second Coming,” William Butler Yeats wrote: “Turning and turning in the widening gyre/ The falcon cannot hear the falconer,/ Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold,/ Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, . . .”

But in the face of such chaos comes love. When I was still teaching college freshmen English at Ateneo de Manila University, I made my students watch Il Postino (The Postman), which won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 1997. The film is about the exile of Nobel Prize winner Pablo Neruda on an isolated island in Italy in the early 1950s. There, he meets the postman who asks his help in writing poems for the woman he loves.

Water seems to be a third character in this film. There is the sea that hugs the shore of Neruda’s Chile, like a long shoestring running down Latin America. Images of water shimmer in the poems. Then there is the sea around the island. It is a source of livelihood, a barrier between the island “and the rest of the world,” an amniotic fluid in the womb.

Although one boy in class complained loudly about watching “a movie with subtitles,” my students eventually liked the film. Afterward, I would make the students listen to a CD of Hollywood celebrities reading their favorite poem by Neruda. The voice of Glenn Close could give you the shivers: sensual, cool, grainy. But it was Andy Garcia reading “Tonight I Could Write the Saddest Lines” that blew them. Some of the girls wept. The boy who complained earlier began writing his own love poem, and then later showed it to me for comments.

The poet W.S. Merwin wrote this luminous translation of Neruda’s poem. “Tonight I can write the saddest lines./ Write, for example, ‘The night is shattered/ and the blue stars shiver in the distance.’/ Tonight I can write the saddest lines./ I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too./ Through nights like this one I held her in my arms/ I kissed her again and again under the endless sky./ She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.”

I asked my students for the point of the lines “sometimes she loved me too” and its inversion later, “sometimes I loved her too.” These are 17-year-old kids weaned on MTV and the mall, but they are just like us when we were younger: all wired up to the notions of love.

One girl said that sometimes, you’re not sure if you already love him. She asked, her earnest eyes shining, “What is the difference between infatuation and love?” I was silent for a while, because I wanted to answer her serious question with the precise words. Then I told her: “You will know, over time, if you like this person only because he’s good-looking and articulate, or if you want to spend the rest of your life with him. These things should never be rushed. You should see each other and talk endlessly. Find a space inside yourself for him or her.”

A boy, on the other hand, said that even if he loves the girl, there are moments when he is not sure. Hmmm, I wanted to answer, a typical Pinoy male reaction. But again, this boy looked so serious. A shadow darkened his young eyes. It’s all Neruda’s fault, I wanted to blurt out, because it’s rare for a class in college freshman English to have so involved a discussion about, yes, “a movie with subtitles.”

For me, the most difficult questions are questions of love. I’m usually fast on the draw, sometimes too fast and too glib for my own sake that some of my friends have threatened to tie me up and gag me so I would simply shut up. But when it comes to questions of love, I clam up.

One of the strangest Facebook messages I got was last December 24. It came from the boyfriend of Stephen, who was my first boyfriend when I studied in Scotland in the 1990s. His present boyfriend looked for my name in Facebook and broke to me the sad news that Stephen has just died. Stephen and I were exchanging e-mails until October, when he suddenly stopped writing. This man introduced me to the films of Woody Allen and wrote a play for me and a concerto for clarinet and strings. The last line of his boyfriend’s Facebook message read like this: “He kept all the letters and photographs that you sent.” For weeks on end I walked around with a hole in my chest.

That is why when I talk to my students, I seem to be walking on shards of glass. I tell them that love is good and even great. But it is not a feeling but an action that has to be affirmed again and again. I tell the to read M. Scott Peck’s The Road Less Travelled. The book says that if love is only a feeling, then it can easily come and go, like the tides that rise and ebb. That’s why love takes the form of action, to be affirmed the days pass in a blaze of happiness – but also when the days are charcoal-gray.

Moreover, I tell my students that, eventually, you can’t love a person all the time, with the same intensity and depth when you first fell in love with him or her. There are hills and mountains in a relationship – the pop songs, whether Pinoy or K-pop – make sure you know that. But there are also plateaus, when everything is flat, and there are valleys, too, when love takes a dip down the ravine. On a plateau or a valley you can walk around in circles, dazed and lost. But then, maybe there’s also a point in that seemingly aimless wandering?

I tell my students and the other young people I meet to discern first, and listen to these words of caution: you will only know, over time, if the relationship has come close to the cliff’s edge.

Listen to Neruda: “I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her./ My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing./ Another’s. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before./ Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes./ I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her./ Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”

To the bewildered young people who come to me with these questions, I always say: Enjoy the moment. Love brings with it a voltage of energy, but also a certain moist melancholy. You feel as if all the love songs were written for you. The face of the beloved appears in everything you see: cell phone wallpaper, computer screen, why, the backs of spoons even!

But you should feel lucky, and blessed. Not everybody is in love. Just keep everything open. The pores of your skin. The door of your heart. Your eyes, surprised with joy as you walk into the landscapes of love.

"Relo" ni Jayson E Parba

Kining relo nga kalit niundag tuyok

Dili usa ka makinang daot.

Kini ang akong pagbating gitipigan,

Gisuksok sa pamasing ang tanan makalimtan.

Ug diha sa suok siya nagpaabot.

Sa hilom, naghandum nga pansinon,

Nag-ampo nga sa maka-usa pa,

Sul-ubon.

Apan ang akong kasingkasing

Gipul-an na.  Gikapoyan nag ilis.

Naluya sa mga kusokuso,

Nawad-an og kusog sa pagpanlubag.

Kining relo nga niundang og pitik

Dili usa ka makina.  Kini usa ka pagbating

Nahinanok ug wa kamata.

Di na ko mopalit og bag-ong baterya.

A Private Family Affair by Jayson E Parba

 *This story was first published in Sunstar Davao, August 15, 2010. The illustration has been lifted from their web (www.dagmay.kom.ph).

Ate Stella and her husband Marco eloped two days after their wedding had been annulled, causing all the feeling of anguish to both mother and father. 

It was the least expected event to happen in our family. Mother and Father had thought my eldest sister would start getting a better life after a long hurdle of going to the court, giving testimonies, and presenting pieces of evidence in front of Judge Gomez to convince him that Ate Estella’s marriage with Marco was null and void, and that, on her part, she had suffered physical abuse and emotional stress after her husband had become a drug addict and a total wreck.

Ate Stella was a nurse. She chose to become one after too much prodding from Mother who was also a nurse herself who held a position in the Philippine Nurses Association. In the family, Mother was the stronger figure compared to Papa who was always quiet, speaking only when it seemed Mother was unreasonable. Papa trusted Mother to make decisions. When Mother declared that we were not allowed to have a relationship while still we were still in school, nobody had the heart to refute it. It was an argument that had been decided long before we heard the other side of the story.

On my part, I tried hard not to violate Mother’s decree by not entertaining suitors and by always being in the company of my girl friends. Kuya Harvey, who I thought had the most difficult time, also did his best not to break that mandate. You see, Kuya Harvey was a natural heartthrob. Girls came to him even if he did not initiate anything to attract them. But with Mother prying on each of his affairs, the girls eventually learned to resist his charm. 

It was different with Ate Stella. Although Mother was very strict with her, monitoring her every now and then, she had learned to find a way to gain Mother’s trust by devoting most of her time to her studies. In short, she excelled, topping the Dean’s List in their college. This assured Mother that her eldest was not distracted by anybody or by any emotional rush that most young adults go through. What Mother missed out on was that someone or something was inspiring Ate Estella. While Mother prepared food in the kitchen, Ate Stella and I would stay in our shared bedroom, pretending to be studying. But in truth, she was reading to me the love letters of Marco while trying to resist her ecstasy from Marco’s lyricism by fighting back her chuckles.

A few months after Ate Stella’s graduation and on the day before she was supposed to take the Nursing Licensure Exam, Kuya Harvey and I were surprised by an uproar in the kitchen. We thought Mother was scolding Yaya for doing badly again in the cooking. But when we came out of our rooms, we saw Mama beating Ate Stella.

“How could you do this to us?” Mama screamed, pointing her finger to Ate when she noticed us watching the whole scene.
“He’s going to marry me,” Ate answered.
“Marry? How will he feed you?”
“We love each other. That’s more important.”
“Love cannot feed you and your child!” 

Mother began to sob. She rushed out of the kitchen and went to their room. It was the first time I saw her cry. Papa was very quiet the whole time. He had remained calm, maybe deep in thought.

The following day, Mother woke up as if nothing happened. Ate, on the other hand, had also awakened early because she needed to be in the examination room before seven. I found out later on that Ate took the exam in a separate room through Mother’s request. This was always possible because of Mother’s position as secretary of the PNA. The request was made in order to keep Ate Estella away from everybody else’s eyes. Mother was afraid the other examinees would see the welts on Ate Stella’s arms. Despite what Ate Estella went through, she ended up in the top ten, landing fourth place when the results came out.

Before Ate’s swelling belly became obvious, Marco and his parents came to the house. It was then decided that Ate and Marco would have a civil wedding. Mama and Papa made sure their eldest had a good life despite the shame she had caused the family. They withdrew money from their savings and helped Ate and Marco build a house. They then lived in their newly built house located at the poblacion where Ate was also taken in as a nurse in the municipal hospital. Again, Mother had to pull out some strings to make sure Ate had work. 

On weekends, Ate Stella would visit us, bringing Baby Nico with her. Mama would prepare special lunch for the family, maybe to show that she had learned to accept the reality. Papa, on the other hand, was more than glad to have another boy in the family. Kuya Harvey had remained a bachelor, maybe because until now he took to heart Mother’s decree. However, I heard a rumor that Kuya was not the marriageable type. Rumors around town said he went out with men. But I learned to keep this secret from our parents. I didn’t want to become the whistleblower. 

One Friday night, a year after their wedding, Ate Stella came home crying.

“That bastard!” It was the first time I heard Father said something against Marco.
“Don’t go back anymore. You stay here,” Mother commanded.
“I never lifted a finger to hurt any of my children. I will kill him if he dare show himself in my house,” Father said. 

It turned out that Ate Stella kept to herself her problems about Marco. While she appeared happy every time she came to the house on weekends, we learned later that she had been agonizing over the fact that Marco had become addicted to drugs. Ate Stella caught him when she found a small cellophane packet with sugary white powder in it. Then he eventually became violent, hurting her whenever she would confront him about his vice. 

It was all Mother’s idea. To put an end to everything, she suggested that my sister file an annulment case. It took two years, exhausting almost all the savings of Mother and Father. During the whole duration of the case, Ate Stella and Baby Nico stayed with us. When the verdict came, our family was very happy, Mother most especially. 

Meanwhile, without our knowledge, Marco had been imploring Ate Stella to come back to him, sending her letters that showed how miserable he was without Ate and Baby Nico in his life. Sometimes, he would wait for Ate Stella at the gate of the municipal hospital where Ate worked, or sometimes he would send her flowers with a special card, bearing a letter that showed his lyrical prowess.

One Sunday, two days after Ate Estella’s wedding was annulled, we all awoke to the silence of Ate Estella’s and Baby Nico’s room. Excited to play with Baby Nico, who by then was almost three years old already, Kuya Harvey and I opened their room and found no one inside. The aparador was empty. Ate Stella left a note, saying thank you to all of us, especially to Mother and Father. At the bottom of the letter, we read: P.S. Don’t worry about us. Baby Nico is excited to see his father again. We will be safe.

“Reunion: On Seeing Them Again 10 Years After”

Reunion. A time to celebrate success and happiness. This is exactly what happened to our high school reunion which happened Saturday, December 4, 2010 at the Sagatech Resort in Bulua, Cagayan de Oro City. God must have heard my prayers for it never rained the whole day, so that those who brought their kids with them enjoyed spending their time with us without having to worry for the kids and without having to leave early (They did but it was already late! hehe).

Reunions always make me feel nostalgic. When two of our high school classmates and friends, Aking and Jennifer, came home from Taiwan and Singapore, the idea of getting together suddenly flickered. And to have it materialized, we had to do a massive campaign to get the presence of those whose commitment to reunions is not as strong as ours. Before Aking arrived from Taiwan, we chatted and agreed that once he got home, we would work on gathering our batch to a reunion. As always Bingbong, Bingkat, and Dongbads were always there to back up the idea. I was completely surprised because Jennifer was also suddenly home! In short, the ReUNION-Eager-Group became bigger! Things became a lot easy.

Riding on motorcycles, we toured around Gango, Indahag, Pualas, Lomboy, and Kamakawan in search of our batch two weeks before the big day. The heavens suddenly opened up and it rained as if God was gracing our efforts, pouring in his love down to us. The schedule and venue were set. The foods were ready (Aking and Jen sponsored the lechon, I did for salad and spag, Dongbads for softdrinks and sinugba, Diana and Lenie for the rice, Jerry for the electricity, Rosalie helped me with the cottage). In short, everything was ready. I couldn’t help but be excited for the big day!

I arrived at the venue two hours ahead of them (I was expected to make some arrangements). When they finally came, I was overjoyed to see them: Rosalie with her two kids, Genisa with her one-month-old babay and her hubby Zaldy, Jerry brought with him his gf, Mylene, Chickboy with his wife and son, Rodel Tantay was there too who latter brought his wife and daughter and son, Melanie, Diana-the-preggy with her husband and daughter, Jennifer, Aking, Jerome Salisi, Crisanto with his wife and daughter, Pablo, Badong, then Bingbong and Bingkat with their eldest and my godson Gyle, then Jued and his partner, and Ma’am Jovelyn Delosa, also ma’am Jing, our fave teacher!

After dinner, we had games. It was the highlight of the evening for everyone really had fun. I first facilitated the “Who’s Who?” game which let my batch remember high school personalities like “the jumping-jack king Felizardo,” “best in Carpentry Elmirante,” “the shortest Joy, ” “Mr Come back to me Mevin Santander,” “the General Dennis Abellanosa,” and a host of other funny memories that until now make me laugh. Then came the “Touch, Slide, and Catch” game, “I think, You guess” game. Ma’am Jing also joined and facilitated a game on numbers (you’re supposed say “boom” not the number when it is divisible by 3 or ends with 3). Crisanto kept on complaining, “Ok ra ang number ma’am ayaw lang nang mag divide!” (hahaha!) After a while the big circle was reduced to two and I emerged as the winner! (of course, dapat lang! hahaha) Then another game was sponsored by Rodel Tantay, the “Animal-sound” game. We were laughing our heart out when the horses’ group bumped with the cats’ (Crisanto’s group) for we were blindfolded!

Then came swimming, singing, and drinking. We were literally swimming in happiness, singing our joy as we drunk in our wonderful memories together. Ma’am Jing was right when she said that what matters most is not our degrees, status, or money. What matters is if we are happy wherever and whoever we are now ten years from high school. And yes, I must agree. That night, I did not only see joy. I witnessed genuine happiness, one that comes from the heart, not forced nor faked.

"Suwat kang Pilemon" ni Jayson E Parba

“Suwat Kang Pilemon” (Alang sa akong mga Nautical nga mga estudyante)

ni Jayson E. Parba

Dong Pilemon,

Niambak sa bintana ang akong kalipay

sa imong gibalitang dagko imong grado.

Ang imong tatay gibayaw sa langit

Samtang ang iyang huyang nang lawas

Nikisi-kisi sa kadasig. Tank gad! 

Dong Pilemon, padayog tuon.

Pagkugi sama sa atong silingang si Bukad

nga karon siman na.  Hastang kuyawa!

Iyang mama, donya na. 

Masanghiran pod unta tas swerte, no?

Purya buyag!

Sa imong pagpaningkamot, Do Pilemon,  

hinumdumi inyong pawnder. 

Katong ginganlan nilag madam, ba?

Nga sa mga panlupig sa panahog kapalaran,

nalig-on samas dyamante.

Matod pas mga balita, siya manggihatagon,

matinabangon.  Dakog kasingkasing.

Ayaw palupig sa mga pagsuway, Do.

Palayos barkada.  Likayi ang disco. 

Himoa imong mga pradyek. Sama  adtong una,

dota ba toy ngan, do, o mafia?

Pastilan, medyo mahal gyod tong pradyeka!

Igo rang halins hiniktang natong si Kikay!

Ug do Pilemon, bepor we said godbay,

Dal-i nya kog litratong madam, ha?

Sa tinuod lang, iya man god kong pans.

Lakip si Tatay mong dili makalimot

sa bronseng istatuwang nipatik sa iyang

maayong binuhatan.

P.S. Do Pilemon, paningkamuti nga kining imong 3.0 mahimong 5.0.  Sayang pod.  Dos na lang ang kulang.  

---------------

(Enters Constancio.  Sits beside Pilemon as the latter gets up, moves left and is in deep thought.)

Pilemon:  Matay, ma guilty man sad tang Nanay.

Constancio:  Aw, dapat lang gyod.  Ikaw ba, stop telling lies.  Be honest to your parents.

Pilemon:  Lagi, bay.  Morag magbag-o na gyod ko, bay.  Lahi ra man god ning wa tay tagoan.  Matod pa nila, “Honesty is the best!”

Constancio: Haha! Amew! Unsay honesty is the best? 

Pilemon:  Aw, rong diay to, bay?

Constancio:  Honesty is the best policy.  Mao nay sakto. 

Pilemon: Aw diay?

Constancio:  Mao bia nang gitudlo sa ‘tong eskwelahan.  Matod pas maestro nakos pilosopi nga si Prof Macabinlar, you cannot be a total person if you’re not honest.

Pilemon:  Aw, husto pod.  I am agree with you.

Constancio:  Unsa? Na! mao na ni ron.  Pagtarong lagig eskwela, bay, para daghan kag makat-onan.  Dapat, I agree with you.

Pilemon:  Aw!  Lagi, bay.  Magbag-o na gyod ko. 

Constancio:  Kana!

Pilemon:  Sakto gyos Nanay. Maningkamot aron makat-on.

Constancio:  Good.  Mao pod nang gibuhat ni Madam adtog estudyante pa siya.  If wala pa siya naningkamot ug nagtarong, wala unta ning atong eskwelahan ron.  Can you imagine that?

Pilemon:  No, bay.  I can imagine, not.  I mean, dili gyod.

Constancio:  Pag sure, bay uy! (laughs)

Pilemon:  Taymsa, nakahinumdum ko nga foundation day man diay ron sa CU, no?

Constancio:  That’s right.

Pilemon:  Bantog rang daghan tawo (looks at the audience).  Bibo pod.

Constancio:  Unsa man? Join ta? 

Pilemon:  Aw, syempre! Taga CU bia ta.  And am proud to be a Stallion!

Constancio:  Capitolian, bay.

(The two characters are heard still debating as they exit.)

Pilemon:  Taka.  Stallion uy.

Constancio:  Capitolian lagi.  Gahig ulo.

Pilemon:  Kinsay ingon?   

 (The two characters exit.  Blackout.)

“Suwat kang Manny” ni: Jayson E. Parba

Do Manny,

Usa ko sa imong mga pans.

Idol ta gyod kaayo ka, Do. 

Sa tinuod lang, way bokser nga makatupong

sa imong kahanas sa boksing.

Kusog pa kas daluglog.  Paspas pas kilat.

More pa!

Nagsuwat ko nimo, Do kay di na gyod nako kaya

ang mga panglibak ug pangpandaot

diha sa radyog telebisyon.

Matod pas mga balita,  babaero daw ka!

Ang uban pod, nag-ingon nga pataka lang daw kag inenglis.

Naa poy mga tabi nga modagan kag pagka presidenti!

Yawa ra!

Ang sa ako lang ba, Do Manny,

mas daghan ming gamahal nimo. 

Mamatay pa ko ron!

Ug bisag tinuod man gani na sila, pans lang gihapon ko nimo.

Para kanako, daghan man gyod mag apas nimo kay hitsuraan pod baya ka, Do. 

Sa akong tantu-tanto, kanang imong bigote ang imong asset. 

Lami man god daw nang giluk-gilok!

Ug in fernis, Do.  Maayo na man ka kaayo mag inenglis!

Spiking ob wits, mas maayo pa man gani ka nako.

Dihang gi interbyu ka sa TV, gidat-ul ko kining akong dunggan

sa spiker aron maklaro ka.  And I therefore concluded, you sound beri good!

Lahi ra gyod ning maka coach og Amerkano, noh? 

So Do Manny, banati nag inenglis kanang gapandaot nimo.

Wat do you care?  Ingna na sila, carefree! Ana ra na!

Pero Do Manny, igo na nga sikat kas boksing.   

Limpyo sama sa imong nawong adtong imong giirok si Cotto.

Ang pulitika man god, Do Manny, hugaw.

Sama sa baba ni Mayweather nga giingnan kag midget ug bayot.

Siya ra siguro!  Kon madayon gani inyong pight,

Patilawa ra god nas imong lept ug right hook combination

Aron makakita nang anuosag uk-ok sa iyang kalimutaw.

Going back to politiks, Do Manny, igo na nga congressman ka.

Ayaw og palabi.  Imong gwapang asawa karon modelo na ni Belo.

Imong mamag papa wa na galisod,

lakip imong tibuok banay nga tig-ihap sa imong kwarta.

Ang imong mga anak, pastilan!

Artistahon kaayo!  Liwat gyong mommy Dionisia.

In short, Do, you hab ebrithing in dis world. Money. Fame.  Power.  Pamily.

P.S.  naa kay extra diha, Do?  Bisan god ug imong patantohan.  Dyis mil lang.

Imong pans,

Inday Sebya Daplin

Sityo Ki-anus, Barangay Kili-og, Pilippins

First Draft: 11/25/10 (11:00am)

“Si Burandat” Jayson E Parba

Burandat,

Pangit! Pangag!

Dili lagi ko si Burandat.

Sheila Marie akong ngan.

Ah, basta, Burandat ka!

Wa kay labot sa amo.

Shiela Marie lagi ko!

Bugok! Paapila ko ninyo ba?

Dili.  Pangit ka.

Imong nawong murag si Rosalka!

Ngee, kagwapa ra nako!

Nindot pa jud ako nem.

Waah! Unsay nindot?

Nindot diay nang Burandat?

Dili lagi ko si Burandat!

Ako si…Shieela Marieee!

Galapyat lang nang nawong mo!

Pangag! Lapad! Pislat! Unano!

Kagwapa ra nako.

Ingong Mama, mura kog si Barbie.

I’m a Barbie girl, in an ugly world!

Pahawa  diha kay magdula na mi.

Hatagan ta mog tin ka julin, O.

Intera lagi ko ninyo.

Samok. Pahawa!

Dili mi nimo.

Sige, twinti na lang.

Paapila ko ninyo, ba?

Twinti? Beh, ambi na.

Sige, apil na ka, Burandat.

Dili lagi ko si Burandat,

Shiela Marie lagi ako nem.

First draft: 11/24/10 (10:30am)

“Suwat kang Joy” Jayson E. Parba

 

Joy, pastilan! Wa gyoy gadahom

sa atong barkada nga

makatungtong kas laing nasod.

Kabawo ko nga putot lang gihapon ka,

apan musta na man ka diha?

Dili ba hadlok diha sa imong gianhaan?

Matod pas mga balita,

kuyaw man daw manarbaho

kon ang amo mga Arabo. 

Pastilan , Joy.

Gamay ra ba kaayo kang bayhana ka.

Pagbantay-bantay gyod dinha. 

Matod pos mga balita,

ang mga Arabo, manyakis. 

Bisan gani laki basta dili gaputos, repon!

Mao na ikaw, pagbantay. 

Dagko pod ra ba daw na silag bunal!

Na, unsaon na lang?

Kon ako imong pangumustahon,

Nia, minero lang gihapon. 

Apan sosyal na dinhis atoa.  Naa nay internet.

Ang mga tao ,adik na kaayos facebook ug youtube.

Ti-a muna, bisan mga minerog tambay,

kabawo na mo chat ug post og shout out!

Ang mga babaye, sigeg pangitag Negro

or Amerkanong guwang ba kaha nga maka-chatmate.

Namasin.  Basin diay makabingwit.

Tuod, nagkitaay mi  sa atong mga klasmeyt

sa high school adtong pasko.

Kabawo ba ka nga si Nimfa ,

kadto bitawng klasmeyt nato nga arte ayos una?

O, katong kusog kaayo mag make-up,

karon, lima na kabuok iyang anak.  Pwerting lusyanga!

Matod pang Badong nga pastor na karos Iglesia,

mura na kuno siyag si Minga nga iyang mama. 

Gipaspasan og ayos iyang bana!

Ug si Bubbles nga halos puro ngipon ang nawong, minyo na. 

Dili na Silaw iyang apelyido.  Wakwak na.  Pastilan!

Wa gyod nangitag laki nga mas maayog apilyedo. 

So karon, dili na lang Buta, Epis, ug Bayot

ang ngil-ad nga apilyedong naa sa atong grupo,

naa na poy Wakwak!

Mao nga ikaw Joy, pangita dihag laking maayog apilyedo. 

Bahalag dakog bunal basta ang apilyedog ngan

dili law-ay sa babag dunggan. 

P.S.  ga-i nya kog ka-chat, ha? Basin diay naay mamords nga babeng Arabo dinha.

Imong fren,

Apyot (Efren Pulpog)     

First Draft: 11/24/10 (10:45am)