I never grew up listening to tales of Superman. My father used to tell me stories of monkey and the turtle. Often, he would tell stories of the Alamat ng Pinya over and over again. It was only with my classmates in school that I learned that Superman weakens with Kryptonite. I haven’t read comics about him either.

But for an unknown reason, I once felt like I was Superman.

Three years ago, I once dreamt to become this university’s model cadet. I was a competitive young man. But I was not fortunate enough to be hailed as one.

The next year came. I was a year older. I was a year wiser, taller and bigger. I went through the same path and dreamed to become a model cadet once again. The second time, I finally did it.

That experience made me realize that once you dream big, you push big. Your hope never dies down. You just bring it on and make it happen.

Being a model cadet has been life-changing. It was my catapult to even greater opportunities. I went to places I have never been to. I was able to travel through time zones to embark my first ship. I crossed the equator and found no line as what I would usually see in maps. I passed through International Date Line westerly and celebrated my birthday twice. I have seen the concrete jungle of New York firsthand. I went to France a couple of times, Netherlands, Belgium, Australia, Panama, and Ireland. There were too many to mention.

But, I’d say, nothing beats Philippines for a Filipino longing to be home.

I cannot affirm the certainty of all things but there are some I am very much certain of.

I suffered from Alopecia Areata onboard during my first few weeks. This was how my body reacted on stress. My hair would usually greet me good mornings. I lost my hair. I lost parts of me I thought I really needed. In time, I grew my hair back. From that time on, I learned to value what I have.

I became a family man. There were a lot of times when the only option I had was to cry to mama over the phone. I was brought up as a man. Yet, life would hit me the hardest when I’m strongest. No matter how I would claim I grew up, I will always be my family’s baby boy.

I regarded everyone I met as my teacher. Some of them never even knew I was their student. I would write to them about how they have blessed me tremendously. They would shed a tear or two and tell me thank you’s I will always be grateful of.

So here goes my thank you to all the people who were with me along the way. I cannot tell all your names but rest assured, I pray for you every night. Ma’am’s, Sirs, friends, thank you for keeping that faith in me in times I fail to believe! I will not be here alive if not for you.

I learned which people to keep and which people to throw. I cannot handle everybody nor please them all. All I know is that I can tell which of them are true. Just as how I deal with the responsibilities I was called to do.

I believed in myself and all that I can do. I once chose to live a life of deying limits and beating deadlines. I was furious. I caused little heartbreaks to people with expectations I was trying to live up with. Later did I realize, that I chose to die.

But God humbled me. He failed me and taught me to accept the things I cannot do.

Indeed, God has a purpose why Papa would tell me stories not of Superman. I know I am not Superman. I will never be. So are you. Our hands will always be too small to catch all the opportunities and frustrations life would throw at us. We’ve got to let go and let some of them fly. Choose to live. Choose to love. Above all, believe in God!

Once again, this D/C Francis Dave Lacson Selorio, now signing off.

Going Back to Our Roots: Panay-Bukidnon

Some part of my pure Filipino blood descended from my forefathers —- the Panay-Bukidnons. They are known to be the indigenous people of Panay island in the Philippines. Hence, when the thought of going back to them came across my mind, it never left. I took hold of it and asked a friend of mine, JC, to film it.

It took us two hours from Iloilo City to reach the far-flung town of Calinog, Iloilo. We took our lunch at around 10:30 am in a nearby shack. We were there for the first time.

We strolled around the place until we found the Police station. We asked for relevant information and got referred to certain individuals that could help us. We shot some scenes in front of the town hall while waiting for the Habal-Habal to come along. It is our term for a motorbike trekking in the mountains.

From the town proper, we travelled for 45 minutes to reach Balay-Tulun-an where the Panay-Bukidnons reside. Since it was raining, the rough road up to the mountains was muddy. More to it, the rocks were slippery and water gushed down. It was a bumpy ride with lots of breath-taking moments.

Alongside were giant rocks and steep cliffs on the other side. We were going up and up and up. But the scenic view of the lowlands from atop was awe-inspiring. There were towering century-old trees shading the rich flora of the forests. The cold breeze was embracing and made me feel how was it to be back home.

Getting dirty with the mud was the most exciting part. We glided in the slopes and climbed hills through rocky steps. But the life-changing experience had not started yet until I finally met the Panay-Bukidnons.

Welcoming us was Rodolfo Caballero, also known as ‘Sandigan’. He was the cultural consultant of the tribe. We exchanged few greetings and immediately, he gathered the members. In an instant, they were wearing their red-dominated and embroidered ethnic costumes.

As Sandigan told, the name Panay-Bukidnon came from two Hiligaynon words —- Panay and Bukidnon. Panay refers to Panay island where they originated and Bukidnon refers to the local natives in the mountainous area of the island. They have their own culture and customary law. They also have their own political system lead by their tribe masters.

On the other hand, their epic chant ‘Sugidanun’ is considered to be one of the longest epic written. If sung, it will take two days and two nights for the chanter to finish it. Federico Caballero also known as ‘Tuohan’was awarded as Philippines GAMABA (Gawad Manlilikha ng Bayan)awardee way back in 2000 for his excellence in epic chanting.

They are also well-known of their embroidery called ‘Panubok’. The designs are indigenous patterned to different animals in the locality. The designs are even featured to inspire fashion shows in the Philippines. Several prominent people buy their design because of its ethnicity and distinction.

Another thing which caught my attention was their Binukot or their well-kept maiden. Rosetta Caballero, 66, is the last Binukot in their tribe. She was well-kept in a bamboo shack since she was two years old. She was not allowed to mingle with other children. She was not allowed to do household chores. She was even helped when eating. She was not allowed to touch the ground when attending engagements. She was not able to attend school. She was the jewel of the tribe.

When she reached 16, she was sold by her parents for 3, 0000 Philippine pesos to one of the brothers of Sandigan. She ended it. Now, the present generation enjoys the opportunity to study and pursue their dreams rather than being well-kept.

Panay-Bukidnon is very famous for their Binanog dance. It is a courtship dance in which the dancers imitate the actions of a hawk. The music is led by an agong ensemble which is played by the tribe members. The dancers make use of long handkerchiefs to manifest their motives with their partners.

In the course time, they were able to preserve their rich culture. Every Saturday, they teach their children of their culture in the GAMABA training center making sure that their noble stories will surpass the test of time.

Indeed, the day I went back to my roots was life-changing. It felt like home. I know that some of the blood running through my veins was passed on from the Panay-Bukidnons. Wherever I go, I know that Panay-Bukidnon will always welcome me home.

I.

I was not born to write. My mother is not a writer nor my father. But I grew up sleeping with encyclopedias underneath my pillow. My parents are Filipinos and so, they believe in it. For some reasons, I topped in school. Somehow, they got me believing, too.

II.

Learning my ABCs was the hardest. I guess, this is how things start. Later, I found my kindergarten notebooks filled up. There were stick figures on it. I thought I was some sort of an artist. But graphite pencil tips kept on breaking as I tried to sketch.

III.

I was forced to write. My formal themes were my first masterpieces. Writing was a school requirement.

One day, my fourth grade English teacher convinced me to write in a contest the next day. I won. She claimed the credits.

IV.

Until, circumstances needed me to stop. I closed the books. I broke the pens. I faced the computer monitor with graphics blinding.

I got stuck in the transition of the nuclear age. Mama was crying. Papa remained quiet. Eventually, everything passed. From that time on, I never played.

V.

Entering the maritime university was not fate. Consciously, I took seafaring unintentionally. Maybe, I will earn more bucks not knowing why I am doing it in the first place. My family will be happy, for sure. I will be happy. I am not quite sure.

VI.

Confusion once struck me. Words fell out just like melodies left a music man. It got me questioning. I went lost. I was emotionally unstable.

After some time, I knew I was a back seat man. In a car, I can tell which way to go. I won’t drive. For life is not more beautiful than the way I view it from here.

VII.

Live each day knowing why. In my case, I write. I pursue every opportunity that comes along with it. It brought me to places I never knew existed. Somewhere between insanity and imagination.

My writing is my weapon. It made me dream and believe. Although unfathomable, it is my exact definition.

VIII.

The day I die, there is one word I want engraved on my tombstone —- WRITER. That way, I will be remembered. If not, I will make my stories great. That kind which is inevitable to tell.

My name may be forgotten but the words will be passed on. That kind which will make people say, ‘He died but he never left.’