BROWN OUTS AND ALL THINGS POSITIVE
A power crisis grips Mindanao, leaving in its wake billions of losses daily. In Tandag, power goes out twice daily, at 11:00-1:00 PM and 4:00-6:00 PM. (In Tago, power also goes out twice daily, at 1:00-4:00 PM and 8:00-10:00 PM.) And if your office is like mine whose processes are computer-dependent, everything stops.But there are positive sides to a power outage. At my office, we now have longer time to share stories about relationships, triumphs, setbacks, milestones and breakthroughs. At home, we now have longer time to share a meal, a laugh, a dream. And with evenings draped in black, we now go out of the house to appreciate the cool evening air, the pale moon, the sequined sky.
Suddenly we’re bonding with our neighbors, indulge in small talks, laugh at simple things and romanticize those good old days. Suddenly we relearn the cathartic effect of simple storytelling that no teleserye could ever hope to match. Suddenly we re-experience the breathless thrill of chasing a shooting star with a foolish wish. Suddenly children realize the “inter-activeness” of pinoy games like kuding-kudingan, ik-ikan, tago tagu-an, and ibo. Suddenly it doesn’t matter anymore if we miss an episode of American Idol.
Thanks to brown outs, we realize we haven’t lost the creativity in making gadgets that don’t need sockets and batteries to work. Thanks to brown outs, we're back to making gas lamps that use an escosia Violin or Guitar as wick. Thanks to brown outs, we realize the beauty of simplicity, of reducing things to basic.
Sometimes it takes a power crisis to see things in a new light. Or in this case, old light. And so delight in it while it lasts.
TAGO AND ITS CURSE
The common question for the three finalists in last year’s Search for Mutya ng Tago was: How would you describe Tago to a blind person?
As contestants groped for words, an answer formed in my head: Tago is like an orgasm---intense, beautiful, and above all, addictive!
Addiction is the essence of Tago’s curse.
My father once told me what is perhaps an apocryphal story that happened many, many years ago when Tago was still an agricultural horn of plenty; when birds hovered low over streams sparkling and pristine; when winds could be summoned by mere whistles from the unpainted lips of women winnowing rice under fruit-laden trees; when every year, at harvest time, Tago turned into a nerve center of commerce and trade, with people from as far as Luzon peddling their wares to farmers whose kalero dotted the fields like golden hills.
HOW TAGO GOT ITS NAME
"To know the truth of history is to realize its ultimate myth and inevitable ambiguity." -Roy P. Basler- The most popular yarn about how Tago got its name involves three Tagon-on women hiding from unseen enemy soldiers on a cloudy Tuesday, six full moons after the First World War broke out. Just as they were about to enter their hideaway, an American soldier emerged from a bamboo clump, holding a rifle with his right hand and three limp roosters with his left. When he asked them what the name of the place was, the women, who didn’t speak English, thought he was asking them what they were doing. And so they chorused, “Yag Tago (we’re hiding).”
