Mother

Last time, you saw my pen and ink illustration of my mother's family tree for my second plate in my Advanced Figure Illustration class. For that cause, she gave me the full list of her direct relatives in their clan, including her cousins and the children of her cousins although she didn't know exactly their stories and histories in full detail.

Actually, mother hardly tells much of her stories about her past and her family. All I know is that she is the youngest among the thirteen children of my grand parents, which I never met personally, and that she was the only one who was fortunate enough get into a college. She said that it was because her siblings only wanted to spend their time in the fields, harvesting rice from their vast land.

Later on, fortunately, she gradually told me her past, as well as those of the other members of the family when I asked her about their family tree. I want to compile those stories as one in here, because mother didn't talk about the stories in just one seating (unlike my father who usually does that), and usually she refuses to talk about it too long. Perhaps because she doesn't like storytelling. One of the events that maybe made her tell some of those buried details was the recent wake for my grandmother's sister, who passed away this month. She attended the funeral of the last of the children of my great grand parents, along with her siblings and her cousins, who, according to her, possessed dubious personalities. So I grabbed this opportunity to ask her about them and the funeral.

So, let me start her story.

She was born from very kind and gentle parents, Mercedes and Eulogio, who had set up their own land in our present province, in Tarlac, away from their parents from another town. I think my grand parents hometown was different from their parents, that is, my great grand parents. I recently researched my mother's ancestors through the net and other documents. What I found is that most of my mother's supposed direct ancestors, dating back to the middle of the 19th century, was in the town of Pampanga, a few kilometers away from Tarlac. Though I'm not sure of the full details, this may suggest that my grandparents moved and settle on their own land, since my mother also told me that her grandparents didn't live in Tarlac in the first place.

Back to my mother, she was very special for her parents, as well as to her siblings since she is the youngest amongst the thirteen children. They gave her everything she needed, and, perhaps, also everything that she wanted. And in return, she served her parents and siblings, though not in the rice fields, but household chores and education

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She had an aunt named Carmela, which she never dared to visit due to the woman's very, very strict and moody behavior. She was this aunt of hers who passed away this month. Her cousin's children, who took charge the funeral, also had a very very unpleasant attitude. So unpleasant that I don't want to talk about them all, but perhaps except for one. Her grand children inherited the same attitude. Her grand children, who have become very successful people, didn't want any children playing around where they were staying, and they even discriminated against their own aunts! So even if I didn't meet them in person, I can feel what mother felt about them as she recounted this. In this illustration though, Carmela's attitude is not related to what she is doing here.


My mother got into high school, and then to college in Baguio, far away from her hometown, where she graduated with honours. She even became teacher in her college after she graduated. Then she met father and they moved to the city, and set up their own land, though she still visits her siblings in Tarlac, where she and father once left my eldest sister Joyce for a while there when my sister was quite young.


Then, her siblings started to have families, except for the unmarried ones like Aunt Rosalinda--who lived in their original house, puffing unfiltered cigarettes while playing solitaire. My uncle Antonio also has no wife and lives with aunt Rosalinda. But most of the time he goes out early in the morning to visit their rice fields and guard them, or, according to him, to hunt birds or small animals in woods with his pump shotgun. But, they are very kind people, and among my aunts and uncles, those two are much closer to me, and perhaps to my siblings also. As you can see, I put a cigarette in my aunt's hands and a gun in my uncle's.




Their farm is a vast one, owned by my grandparents. But, something terrible happened to it. One of their sibling, uncle Aniceto, gradually sold their lands for a very cheap price,and without permission to those who rightfully inherited the lands. Like aunt Carmela, uncle Aniceto is a moody man. They complained about what their brother did, but sadly it was never resolved. And even my mother's share to the land was sold, all of her shares. But mother, who didn't want any trouble, just ignored it. And because she lived with father, she didn't much put attention to the conflict. I put a pouch of silver to signify he his betrayal in selling the major parts of their land secretly.

My mother's sisters and brothers usually have some conflict with one another, from the very tiniest of problems to the larger ones, and usually my mother tries not to meddle in such squabbling. But ironically, during their childhood days, they were kind to each other. Perhaps this is because, now that their parents are dead, no one can solve their problems, which is very sad to think about.

Speaking of family affairs and kinfolks, I am currently working on my thesis about families and clans due next year. Well, I also just recently realized that this is a not such an easy task as I have thought it would be, despite of my interest in the topic.

Father

I would like to tell to you a story about my father. Since I was a child, he had been telling me about his past, his childhood, adventures, and dreams in life as a young boy.

Long ago, years after world war two, he was born from strict, not so rich, and smoke-loving parents Gonzalo and Mercedes in an almost remote, mountainous town of Dio Duran. As the eldest son, he helped his parents with his best, from household chores to implementing codes of conduct towards his younger siblings, and to their rice fields, despite the fact that he was not much close to his older relatives, especially his paternal grandfather named Carlos. Because of his tireless effort, his parents granted him an elementary education. He was so happy for this.

The school was kilometers away from their town and he walked on foot, crossing woods, hills, and streams. And he said to himself, "This place won't fit my dreams." He studied hard, read books at night, and still helped his parents on the rice field. Sometimes, during weekends, he and his friends would go to the waterfalls to waterfalls in the middle of the woods. One time, suddenly, one of his friends disappeared. They searched for him but they couldn't find him. They reported this incident to their neighbors and started to look for him for weeks. Weeks later, they found him on the banks of the waterfalls where they bathed. The boy couldn't speak. They tried to ask him what happened, but he just stared blankly.Fortunately, after few days, he was now able to speak a little, but he can't remember what happened to him before he was found.


From that day, father and his friends only went to the falls seldom. Some say that he was abducted by spirits, and, upon returning him, they erased his memories.

Quite soon, he finished his studies. He walked on school rain or shine. And if it is raining,he would carry his sandals and walk barefoot. One afternoon, he was caught in a thunderstorm on his way home. He was a bit afraid so he hid under a tree beyond a field. He almost felt safe when he heard an explosion behind the tree he was hiding with. He realized that the tree next to him was struck by a lightning. My father quickly ran away from it until he reached the town cemetery. The rain poured harder so he decided to hide in one of the vacant niches (an apartment type) there. He told me that it was a bit cool and quiet inside so he fell asleep. Later, he woke up and he saw the rain had stopped but the sky was growing darker. He quickly packed his things and went straight home. He was worried not about the spooky things at the cemetery but at my grandma's deadly lashes.

My father's village was shrouded in mystery. Legends and superstitions were everywhere. But my father doubted them sometimes. When he went to the woods, setting up traps for birds and wild animals (where he once caught an unpalatable wildcat), he heard unusual of a bird somewhere. Just for fun, he imitated its voice, and the howl became louder and closer. He didn't hesitate to run. My father always heard stories about people being abducted by creatures, strange apparitions, witch doctors and religious cults living on secluded lairs. This time, father knew it was real. There was a tale about a Japanese soldier on top of a coconut tree. My grandpa said that that soldier thought the war was still ongoing. He had nothing to eat or drink there but the coconut seeds. Children would throw stones at him just for fun, and most of the people almost ignored the soldier.

There are actually true stories aside from what my father told me. In a remote Philippine island of Lubang. The soldier was Hiroo Onada. He was sent by Japanese government to conduct guerrilla warfare during the second world war. Unfortunately, he was never officially told the war had ended. And he continued his work, hid from the jungle until he finally emerged and surrendered on 1972. Back to my father, he met an elderly man who usually grouped the children in a cottage and tell some stories about ghosts and malevolent creatures. The elderly man wanted to scare the children. After that, since he finished his stories almost midnight, he usually requested my father to take him home which was kilometers away. In exchange, he gave my father a kilo of rice.

By the time his elementary graduation was approaching, nobody among his siblings, nor his parents had time to attend his graduation. But it's okay to him because that was the date he will leave the village by train and head for the city. He brought nothing except his school uniform. There, in the city, he learned how to make money. He worked as a helper on a construction site where he performed dangerous tasks ordered by the workers. He worked there until he was found by his Aunt Carmela. She helped him finish his studies where my father wrote a poem about students, and had it published in a well-known magazine during that time.

Geneaology

Genealogy. Mysterious but fascinating. I find myself quite interested to them. I just like how generations pass as history moves on, and also how this epic story goes by. Sometimes, they produce bizarre stories that are very good to hear and to tell.


I had been looking for some prominent houses and dynasties many times. As you can see on the left, I found detail of a late medieval painting (or is it a tapestry?) in the internet about Austrian ladies in a family tree. It was made at about 1490, and it has beautiful, jewel-like colors. Although these kinds of family tree chart are quite hard to observe and trace, they are fun to look at because I find them nice in their over decorated manner ( Yep! I have a little bit horror vaccui).


My bunny lent me a book about the royal houses and dynasties in Europe. The book entitled Heraldry of the Royal Families of Europe by Jiri Louda and Micheal Maclagan. Her older brother John gave this to her as a birthday gift. The book contains precise charts, as what they told, of family trees. The book includes individual heralds, but is not of that good a printing, though it manages a considerable information about the houses and their realms. What I found much interesting there is about the relationships between the dynasties in Europe. It says that probably the Queens of England are very distant kinswomen of the Hashemite Kings of Jordan. But maybe this kind of story is not new since houses in Europe intermarried each other, reaching even in the east such as the Spanish kings and the Moors, through their sons and daughters.


As I read it further, it inspires me and had given me some concrete ideas for my stories such as the Annals. I have been writing about imaginary kingdoms and countries with families warring and intermarrying with each other.


I also charted my parent's family tree, from my mother back to my great grand parents. Since I mentioned my mother's family, let me tell their little stories to you. Years ago, before the First World War, there was a man named Eulogio. He had three siblings, Caridad, Rosario, and a man called "Doleng (Cross-eyed)." Eulogio was the oldest of the four children. Years later, he met a woman named Mercedes, the youngest among her five siblings: Emerenciana, the oldest, Catalina, Felipe, Teodora, and Carmela. Just like other lovers during that time, they got married as soon as possible and had twelve children. Adelina was the oldest, next was Concordia, Ortencia, Corazon, Elena, Aurea, Lucia, Rosalinda, Aniceto, Jose, Antonio, and the youngest as well as my mother, Angela. Funny enough, whenever my mother and her eldest sister are together, you could mistake them as mother and daughter. My aunt Adelina's age gap from my mother spans about three decades.


As of now, I don't have the complete data about my family. I only know the surnames of my great grand parents. Perhaps I should visit my aunt on my mother's hometown in Tarlac to get more information and old pictures. I also roughly charted my father's family tree way back also to my great grand father, named Carlos. My father said that Carlos was a really tall man, with a pale complexion and a thin body. My father saw him before, though he never met him personally. Carlos had fifteen children, and he married twice because his first wife died early.


My bunny told me that her uncle Herman also drafting their paternal family tree. What's interesting there is that he also researched the dates of their birth and death. He even researched their occupation, some old pictures, and some highlights of their story. She promised me to give me a copy of them by the time she gets hers from her uncle. I had thought of making a family tree similar to the one above.