for everyone |
An Angel of a Father
So, now, let me tell you a little bit about our father. That’s father with the small letter “f.” After all, this is not supposed to be a religious story. His name was ANGEL JINGCO LANSANG. He was born in Sta. Rita, Pampanga sometime in Oct., 1900, so you did not have to be a math genius to keep track of his age, i.e., if the year was 1933, he was 33, etc. Everybody including us his children, and our mother, called him “ABAY,” the other form of “ABE`” in Pampango, or “BAY” in Bisaya, or the rough equivalent of “PARE.” One can just imagine how shocked some people must have been to hear us his children calling our father in such a familiar if pedestrian fashion. But that was ABAY first of all. He was not one to stand on ceremony. He always dressed casually, disdained extravagance or excesses of any sort and cautioned us all the time against trying to imitate the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Whenever he felt like taking some coffee, he always made it a point to look for an old badly chipped porcelain cup with a broken handle and fill that only half-full. So you will please pardon me if for the rest of this story, I will refer to him as nothing else except “ABAY.”
ABAY it seems was born to a rather wealthy or landed family, but he was orphaned at a very young age. So, he, Imang Feling and a younger brother (Simeon) were practically raised by their elder sister, Imang Enyang (Eufemia) who herself a young lass then evidently couldn’t quite handle them, and thus would tend to give in to their every whim. As a young man, ABAY became fascinated with the new colonizers, the Americans, who had suddenly taken over the country from the Spaniards. Although raised and educated in Spanish, ABAY then decided he wanted to study in the USA - at a time when going to America must have felt like Marco Polo taking the old Silk Road to China. It was the ultimate whimsical adventure at the time. The only Filipinos going to the USA then were the so-called “pensionados” and the contract workers in the canefields of Hawaii. But, no, ABAY, like the proverbial prodigal son, demanded his share of the inheritance from Imang Enyang and he was off on a steamship to America, barely speaking a word of English.
One can only imagine what life must have been like for a poor Pinoy living in the USA during the “roarin’ twenties.” To begin with, hardly any American then ever heard of the Philippines. If at all, they referred to this colony as “Manila” or “P.I.” Hence, to this day the name BPI or Bank of the Philippine Islands. To this day, the Pinoy oldtimers in Hawaii, Guam or in the dingy coffee shops around Union Square in San Francisco still refer to their country as “PI.” The only Filipinos the Americans ever saw were some faded photos of some naked Igorots as displayed in the Chicago Expo of 1903. Poor ABAY himself must have been sufficiently impressed and overwhelmed. It was your classic case of “culture shock,” if the term had been invented then. It was the best and worst of times in America. It was the age of Al Capone, gangland wars, the Prohibition, the silent movies. It was also the Golden Era of the USA, if there ever was one. It was the era of Joe Louis, Babe Ruth, Big Bill Tilden, Rudolf Valentino,Greta Garbo, Charlie Chaplin, Enrico Caruso, Arturo Toscanini, Paganini and so many other great talents the likes of whom we have never seen again, then and now.
Having learned to syllabicate in Spanish, poor ABAY couldn’t quite understand what the American meant by “Take the ALLAH VEYTAH,” while pointing to the OTIS elevator. Their bus or railroad station they called the “DEEPOH.” Their toilet was named after an evangelist. He soon found out that “fridge” was short for the Kapanpangan “PRIGIDAIRE.” ABAY himself got a constant ribbing on account of his name (and of course, his chinoy looks) since he did not exactly live up to his given name. To this day, no American will be caught dead with a name like “JESUS” (or, “HEYSOOS”) which also happens to be a swear word. ABAY soon learned that the Americans he hung out with had only one decent pair of pants and a coat which they wore the whole year round. They also hardly ever took a bath. (Which explains why ABAY took a bath about twice a year when he and his family eventually settled down in Baguio). ABAY also swore that when he had children of his own, he would give them all exotically American names, and thus were born: ROBERT, ALICE, JAMES, JOHN, HELEN , MARK, EDWARD, JOSEPH, GEORGE, MARY ANN and DOROTHY.
In time though ABAY settled down, went to college while working at all kinds of odd jobs and mostly living the life of Riley, eventually graduated with a BS in Commerce from the National University in Washington, DC, but not before forcing Imang Enyang to sell most of their properties in Sta. Rita to finance his profligate life.. After living in the USA for than a decade, ABAY took the first boat home during the Great Depression of the 1930s.
Back in Sta.Rita, this maverick of a balikbayan in his early thirties must have been a cool bachelor dude in those days, regaling the ladies with his exploits in the great USA, and although jobless and penniless was spokening in dollar and played a mean game of tennis. He soon managed to attract the attention of our mother, then a young innocent probinsyana 12 years her senior and already engaged to a local boy. Of course, ABAY was not exactly a stranger to the family since his sister, Imang Feling was already married to Tatang Jek, our mom’s elder brother. The only incident I recall him telling me about those days was that since there was not much else to do, he and mommy as a young married couple would hang out at Lola Pilar’s house to play bingo. But since he had no money, he would swallow his American pride and borrow a “kusing” (1/2 centavo) from his mother-in-law, just to be able to join the game.
The moral: as I have told many friends who have sons-in-law, “huwag niyong minamaliit at minemenos iyang inyong mga manugang (just because they happen to show very little promise).. Noong magasawa ang tatay ko, ni isang kusing para itaya sa bingo inuutang pa niya.” Then he raised a brood of eleven (11) children, went through the war years, Japanese Occupation and the so-called “Liberation” with them, sent them all to school and through college until the last of us finished her MD at the UP and is now an internationally-acclaimed epidemiologist whose work has taken her to all the far reaches of the world, Africa, Latin America, India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Geneva, etc.
ABAY, to everyone’s great surprise, turned out to be the best father one could ever wish for. He was always with us, never left our side and literally carried us on his bleeding blistered shoulders when as very young tots we had to march on foot for several days through the thick jungles from Tuba, Benguet to Tubao, La Union during the war years, to escape the wrath and cruelty of the desperate retreating Japanese soldiers. That our young family managed to survive unharmed and unscathed through all those torturous war years and beyond can only be a tribute to ABAY’s devotion as a father. He made sure that no harm would befall us. He was most particular about any possible danger to our eyes. “Iskrema” or “fencing” was strictly prohibited. Also, he forbade any hide and seek at night, afraid we might poke our eyes against some protruding nail or sharp object. He was also a most gentle, loving father. He would kiss and hug us all the time even more often than Mommy. From him I learned not to hit women. He would say, “Locco, nanung kwentang panasakitan me iyang babae, mayna ya queca.”
His years in America must have made him a liberal-minded, broadminded fellow. “Keep an open mind about everything happening around you,” he would say, “or you might go crazy.” In this day and age of same-sex weddings, how right ABAY tuned out to be. With him, everything was “todo pasa” You could do as you please, or wishy-washy if you like. Kinda reminds me of the lesson on God’s unconditional love. If Mommy disapproved, you could try your luck with ABAY. Speaking of luck, ABAY was your ultimate gambler. More specifically, he was your classic cockfighting aficionado. He loved cocks, okay, roosters, if you will. For a most level-headed fellow, ABAY’s passion was cocks and cockfighting. His last years he spent writing a book about his 50-year experience in cockfighting. While I was reviewing for the bar exams I helped him edit and publish what must be the only book on “COCKFIGHTING IN THE PHILIPPINES” by ANGEL LANSANG (with a Preface from the Cong. Ramon Mitra), with apologies for ABAY's unidiomatic, Spanish-style English.
If this were a book, I would tell you about ABAY’s other “vicio” which was drinking – in moderation; we his children saw to that. When we calculate that he has had enough for one day, Mommy would tell us to go fetch ABAY from our friendly neighborhood sari-sari store. I remember how annoyed or embarrassed I felt having to be told to fetch ABAY. That’s probably why I don’t gamble and only drink in moderation. One learns from both good and bad examples. Thanks, ABAY, you brought us up and taught us well. You lived up to your name, after all, an ANGEL of a father. JAMES D. LANSANG
No IFs or BUTs about it! It IS a book; then a screenplay/script; thence a play in three acts/an indie film. With James Deen playing himself!
What better tribute to a heavenly being - and one's own father at that? Go for it! I do have a mind of doing so myself - for a father to the MAX. Before we croak. "So little time; so many tales..." |
When I met James at his residence last January, I thought he was a Bisaya. Ang Lansang kasi sa Bisaya is pako in Tagalog. Now, we know his father is called ABAY. In Cebuano, ABAY or BAY, as shortened, is KATABI in Tagalog or PARTNER, in English.
ABAY probably was also as witty and full of humor as you are. |
Hello, Kuya Eman, it's so nice to hear from you agn. It must really take one to know one. You yourself must be the funnyman in the family. Your brother is so serious, you must feel compelled, whenever you're around, to inject a bit of humor as an addendum to his ex cathedra expositions. tnx rgards
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It has been said because there are no accidents in life, that we actually chose our parents. Your fondness and love for "ABAY" seems to underscore this view.
I have always wanted my kids to call me "Luke" just like Atticus in To Kill A Mocking Bird. They agreed but still called me Dad. |
Hi. Bro Luke, gud to hear from you agn. Tnx for your comment/insight. His tombstone in Baguio still reads: "ABAY." He died as he had lived. Sometime in 1978, after coming out of a pintakasi in Pozorrubio, Pangasinan, ABAY got sideswiped while crossing the highway to Baguio.
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you're right jey. my brother is so serious that sometimes, he does not know na joke na pala ang binabato sa kanya.
By the way, the city council of cagayan de oro recently passed a resolution that the abbreviation of cagayan de oro should be "CdeO" to differentiate it from cdo, the karnenorte. it sounds funny but, it's true. |
Hi, EMAN, CdeO/cdo only time will tell which will prevail. In the meantime, pls look around CDO and see if you can find a local project which could use, or would be interested to avail of, some financial assistance from charitable/philanthropic institutions abroad, such as, MISEREOR, Catholic Charities, Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, etc. This is the mandate of our XVD Research & Consultancy Committee. You have been appointed CdeO coordinator. tnx rgards
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Kuya Tom, tnx. I'll have that carved in stone. But actually the photos and videos you patiently and doggedly take at our XVD affairs are the greatest service of all. Pls tell me how I could obtain an enhanced copy of that video clip of that chapel scene, after the mass, Saturday nite, Metanoia2, past 11PM, where I complain to Fr. J abt Czar's interpretation of An Affair to Remember. Did you notice Epe bending over in mirth and laughter? Precious moments. tnx agn
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Brod,
ReplyDeleteNice blog about "ABAY" A.K.A. ANGEL J. LANSANG. Can't get any better than this writeup about our dad/father. Thanks for sharing!
Joseph D. Lansang