CALL FOR APPLICATIONS: The 2nd Cagayan de Oro Writers Workshop

Editor's Note | January 31, 2017

The Nagkahiusang Magsusulat sa Cagayan de Oro (NAGMAC), in partnership with Xavier University-Ateneo de Cagayan’s Department of English Language and Literature (XU DELL), CHED Center of Development in Literature in Mindanao, is now accepting applications for the annual Cagayan de Oro Writers Workshop to be held from 03 to 07 April 2017.

Fourteen (14) fellowships are available to emerging writers who were born and/or are currently based in Northern Mindanao — Bukidnon, Camiguin, Lanao del Norte (including Iligan), Misamis Occidental, and Misamis Oriental (including Cagayan de Oro). An all-expenses paid event, fellows will also be provided with food, stay-in accommodation, and workshop materials for the event’s entire duration.
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The Feast at Barangay Bagontapay

Nonfiction by | January 29, 2017

The news that someone had gotten into a motorcycle accident at Bagontapay Crossing, two kilometers away from our house, reached our neighborhood a few minutes after it happened. It was just after the second power outage that day. I was sitting in our terrace when Ante Doday, who lives across our house, walked toward our rusty pink gate and casually informed me about the accident. She is a wellspring of information in our area, spending most of her day sitting on a wooden bench attached to her small sari-sari store and talking to customers who dish out the stories.

Bagontapay Crossing, where the “roundball” or traffic circle is located, became an accident prone area after its construction. According to my father, who had worked in the road construction, the original road junction – three triangle islands – was safer because of its limited size and intricate course that slowed down the vehicles. It’s interesting how we, taga-Bagontapay and other nearby places, call the roundabout, “roundball.” I guess it is because of the circular concrete wall that looks like a big wishing well in the middle of the intersection. This also reminds me of how we call the sickle, “cycle,” because, again, maybe of the rotating movements of the hand when cutting long grass.

After hearing the news, I remained still in my seat, just waiting for my parents to come home from work. Because it happens all the time, news of the accident didn’t bother me. Unless, of course, I know the person involved or it happens in a very strange way like that time a husband was caught by his wife early in the morning in another woman’s house at the market. I was more worried about how I would spend the remaining one month of my long school break before I go back to Davao City for enrolment. In fact, I couldn’t wait to be a second year college student.
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hindi

Poetry by | January 22, 2017

hindi
ko alam kung ano
ang nasa pagitan natin
noong gabing iyon
habang ginagalugad
kung saan pahihimlayin
ang mga salita

o baka naman wala
talagang nasa pagitan
katulad ng nawalang paligid
habang naghahanap
ng mga signos
sa pagitan ng sulyap
at usap

dayap
sa sugat ng ngayon
at nakaraan
ang pamamaalam

may ngiting nais
sumulyap
sa mga mata ko
subalit sinaway ito
ng mga mata mo

kilala nila ako

kapag ganito
kakorni ang simula
trahedya ang wakas
ng hinahabing
tula at kuwento.


German V. Gervacio is a Palanca award-winning author who teaches at the Filipino Department of MSU-Iligan Institute of Technology. He is the incoming representative of Northern Mindanao in the National Committee on Literary Arts for 2017-2019.

Davao Writers Workshop 2016: Learning Once More

Nonfiction by | January 22, 2017

November 30, 2016 was a holiday commemorating Andres Bonifacio’s heroism as usual, but for me, it seemed as if I went to my first day of class in a bigger classroom. That was the day I took off my hat as a teacher and put on the uniform of a student again for five humbling days.

The Davao Writers Workshop (DWW) 2016 served as my fast-paced, short course in Creative Writing. Everything happened in a snap from the time I submitted my manuscript with high hopes (as if I were submitting my school requirements) until the time I received the acceptance e-mail. Reading “Congratulations” really took me to Cloud Nine, as if I had won a prize. In fact, they said I had won a “fellowship.” At that point I wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but I told myself, This is it! I am ready to learn again.

Bringing along my backpack, I went to our “classroom,” The Big House: A Heritage Home in Juna Subdivision. When I finally met my “classmates” for that workshop, I realized they were fourteen diverse people coming from different parts of Mindanao.  Most of them were college students and two fellow teachers, Deejay Maravilla from Dapitan and Jet Paclar from Cagayan de Oro. Just like me, they also set aside their red pens and they were eager to learn from the pros. Despite our diversity of culture, age, and gender, it did not hinder me from relating to them and building rapport especially with my roommates, Krizza Udal and Emmylou Layog who were both senior college students. We were the only females in the group. It reminded me that learning and teaching is indeed a cycle–I may be a teacher by profession but during the workshop, we were all students.

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Caught in the Middle

Nonfiction by | January 15, 2017

Whenever we talk about Marcos in the family, I do not hear stories of disgust or condemnation especially from my mother and father. Because of this, I grew up neither hating nor loving Ferdinand Marcos.

My father had a firsthand experience of the war in Mindanao during Martial Law in the late 70s and early 80s. His family was one of the bakwit, evacuees who transferred from one place to another to avoid armed conflict. Their community in Kiamba, Sarangani Province (back then Sarangani had not yet been declared a separate province of South Cotabato) became one of the war zones in the SOCSKSARGEN region. Thousands of families were displaced and many young Muslims joined the fighting. Because he could not anymore tolerate the injustices they had experienced in the hands of the Ilaga, the Christian paramilitary group tasked to purge Mindanao of Muslims, my father enlisted in the Black Shirt movement. By joining the Muslim militia, he helped avenge his fellow Moro brothers and sisters who had been killed by the Ilaga and the military.

As my father shared this war story, I was waiting for him to blame Pres. Marcos for it. But he put more emphasis on the effects of intense militarization and the chaos it brought to their lives. I wondered what their leaders had indoctrinated in them that their view of the war seemed only on the surface.

This sentiment is similar to what I heard when we interviewed Moros who had been victims of Martial Law. The Transitional Justice and Reconciliation Commission (TJRC) assigned our group to make a documentary film on Moro issues. We visited various places in Mindanao to interview Moros and Lumad who experienced marginalization through land dispossession, historical injustices, and human rights violations. In one of our interviews, we visited Malisbong in Palimbang, Sultan Kudarat, which was one of the greatly affected places during Martial Law, and talked to the survivors of what is known as the Malisbong massacre.

As the survivors recalled, soldiers and officers of the 15th and 19th Infantry Battalion of the Philippine military carried out search-and-destroy missions around the coastal villages in Palimbang. The thundering sound and explosion of bombs and cannons overwhelmed the community, destroying public and private properties.
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Armor (excerpt)

Fiction by | January 8, 2017

(Armor won 1st Prize in the Short Story for English category of the Carlos Palanca Memorial Literary Awards in 2013.)

The week Ronnie was planning to die, one of his neighbors paid him a visit. Ronnie had just come back from the seamstress, bringing home a newly mended sheath dress he would wear for the pageant, when Oliver showed up.

“The Death Squad,” Oliver said. “They’re after you.”

Ronnie considered what reactions were possible. He would back away from the Mylar-covered table where Oliver was nursing his coffee. He would warn him that he didn’t appreciate this kind of joke, not after bodies had been found in empty, grassy lots around Mintal. Instead, Ronnie soaked up his neighbor’s silence, leaned on the refrigerator and lit a cigarette.

Where was the Death Squad when he regularly handed out shabu to the crew of wiry boys who had hung out at his beauty salon? They were hired guns, the Death Squad, who used to go after drug pushers, but lately they’d been taking down street gang members, crystal meth users, petty thieves.
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NAGMAC’s Call for Submission for the Bulawan Literary Zine Issue 02: ‘Dissent/Defiance’

Editor's Note | January 1, 2017

Dissent, defiance: in Binisaya, supak, pagbikil; in Filipino, pagtutol, pagsuway (respectively). According to dictionary definitions, “dissent” as a verb means to hold or express opinions at variance with those previously, commonly, or officially express; while “defiance” is open resistance, or bold disobedience. The term is apt in articulating the responses to the turbulent events that rocked our everyday lives as residents of Northern Mindanao and the rest of the country.

Potential contributors are emerging and established writers who (1) are born and/or based in Northern Mindanao and (2) are Filipino citizens residing in the Philippines (outside Northern Mindanao) or abroad whose works are about the region.

We are looking for previously unpublished fiction and nonfiction prose, poems, and (unperformed) plays in Binisaya, Filipino, English, or a combination of these three languages. Contributors are asked to submit their best works in either of the following: 1 to 3 poems (not more than 60 lines each); 1 one-act play (15 pages); 1 flash narrative (500-1,500 words); 1 short story (3,500-5000 words); or 1 creative nonfiction/literary essay (3,500-5000 words). We are also looking for critical essays (3,500-5000 words – MLA citation format) about Northern Mindanao literature and book reviews (1,000-2,500 words) of works by Northern Mindanao authors. Except for poetry, all prose submissions should be in font size 12 in Arial, Courier New, or Times New Roman, and must be in Microsoft word (.doc) format. It should also be set in standard manuscript format; for more guidelines about manuscript formatting, look for William Shunn’s guide to Proper Manuscript Format. We are also looking for art works (at least 3) that will be considered for the cover art of the next volume. It should conform to the theme and it must be set in .jpeg file.

Send your manuscripts and artworks as email attachment to nagmac.submissions@gmail.com, together with a cover letter indicating your full name and contact information, as well as a 2-3 sentence bio-note. The email must have this subject line: “Bulawan zine submission, genre/art, and title of literary/art work” (ex. Bulawan zine submission, Flash Narrative, Bayo ni Dodong). For poetry submissions, choose one title for the subject line, while the document to be attached in the email must contain at least three (3) poems. Email sent without this subject line will automatically be filtered as spam and marked unread. Letters of acceptance and rejections will be sent out weeks after the deadline. Deadline of submission is until 11:59 p.m. of 31 March 2017.

The editorial board is composed of Mark Anthony L Daposala (poetry editor), Abigail C James (fiction editor), Vel Marie M Santillan (drama editor), and Alton Melvar M Dapanas (creative nonfiction/literary essay editor) with Zola Gonzalez-Macarambon as consultant. Eric John B Villena serves as the general editor.

Inquiries may be addressed to NAGMAC’s official email nagmac.submissions@gmail.com or Facebook page facebook.com/cdopoetrynight. The publication, as independently published, is unable to give honorarium to its contributors.

Eh di Howl! (after Ginsberg)

Poetry by | January 1, 2017

I.
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by Internet memes, historical revisionist Youtube clips, dragging themselves through the darkest, amnesiac streets of remembering, Marcos apologist hipsters and bloggers burning to ashes the miserable memories of Martial Law,

who bared their image-driven brains to froth for the good-looking grandson who was London-educated but undeniably unknowledgeable about undervoting,

who Facebook-floated across virtual Wi-Fi waters and stayed on top Twitter trends, contemplating the alleged cheating in the vice-presidential race in order to pave and force the way of the unapologetic son to Malacañang,

who unwittingly sent their souls to Hell for promoting the banality of evil and saw Mephistophelian angels promising the hero’s burial and ascension of the wax-and-plastic-and-formaldehyde-long-rotten patriarch, but didn’t see the irony,

who passed through illumined universities yet spent more time in status-symbol coffee shops, discussing fashion styles and sheers, crop tops and jogger pants, ending up inadequately informed or misinformed or uninformed about the naked and obscene terrors of the autocratic rule and the detritus thereof,
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Masahe sa City Plaza

Fiction by | January 1, 2017

“Maygale naabtan pa ko nimo diri, Mam,” matod sa akong suki nga masahista. Iyahang bus-ok nga mga bukton mihulma sa iyang nipis nga puting sando. Milingkod ko sa gamayng plastik na lingkoranan ug gibutang ko sa kilid ang akong napalit nga karne ug utan, apil ang akong naukay nga mga blaws. “Ulahi najud tika na kustomer mam. Sayo man gud mi ugma sa Marawi.” Gipatong nako ang akong mga tiil sa iyang paa.

“Mag unsa mo didto dong?”

“Didto mi mobotar mam,” matod niya dungan sa pagbubo sa uwil sa iyang mga kamot.

“Ha? Didto diay ka narehistro?” Iyahang gisugdag masahe ang akong mga bagtak nga mihawoy sa pagtindog og dugay sa ukayan.

“O, pero sila ra ang garehistro sa amo mam. Igo ra ming nagpirma sa form na ilang gihatag, tapos sila ray nagpadala dadto sa Marawi.”
Nahimatikdan ko ang iyang nawong nga nabaknot, ang singot gatulo naingog duga sa iyang mala-Adonis nga nawong.
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Panahon ang Lumay

Poetry by | December 25, 2016

Usahay ugtas
ang atoang kaagi
sa kahiubos

mga pasangil
sa pakyas nga pasaad
lugda mipisil

sa kadugay sa
oras, gaduhaduha
kun mupadayon

ang gugma nato
ma wahig ug pagbati
mawad-ag awog

apan kani ra
akoang maingon sa
imo pangga, ko

Kung igarapon
ang tui-g nga miagi
sama sa lana

mahimo kining
ang pinakakusgan sa
tanang gayuma.


Glorypearl Dy is a filmmaker based in Davao City. She was a fellow at the 2011 Davao Writers Workshop.