Chapter 11--My Primary School at Cawayan, Carles

In 1949, when I was 8 years old I got my first experiences in national and local elections. I was in Cawayan, Carles, the northernmost town of Iloilo province. I was in Grade 2 at Cawayan Primary School. The previous year, in Grade 1, I was enrolled at Abong elementary school two kilometers north of our home. The year before that, I was enrolled in Grade 1 at Dayhagan Primary School, in Dayhagan, Pilar, Capiz a neighbor village. I got a failing grade because I did not know how to read and write.

In Grade 2, I still did not know how to read and write. But I could memorize the whole book of “Pepe & Pilar”, the textbook for Grade 1. “Pepe and Pilar” has about 30 pages. I can read the whole book if I saw the pictures on its pages. I can also count from 1 to 100. But I could not recognize the letters and numbers when I was asked.

Our teacher in Grade 1 was Mrs. Candilaria Ocena, a fat lady. She wiggled when she walked. She was a lovely lady. Her skins were very smooth. Her face was soft and tender to look at. She taught me how to read and write. I failed to learn. She succeeded in teaching me to speak and to memorize numbers. She also taught us to dance, a lovely dance “Itik-itik”. I learned to dance. My dancing partner was Trina Alvarez. She is a Spanish mestisa. Mrs. Ocena walks every day about two kilometers morning and afternoon, from her home to school and back. We were happy with Mrs. Ocena teaching us.

In Grade 2, I enrolled at Cawayan Primary School which opened only that June. Miss Carmelina Comodero was our teacher. She was lovely. We liked our class under her. Oh, she is beautiful! She has white skin and a sweet smiling face, I loved to sit in front. I liked looking always on her lovely face. Miss Comodero also boarded at our home. She is alone and occupied my mother’s boarding room. The other room was occupied by Mrs. Confeso Grade 2 teacher and her son, Rodolfo. That time, he was Grade 1.

My father saw that I did not know how to read, though I could memorize. He asked me to read the story in the book, “Pepe and Pilar”. Father wanted me to learn to read. But his methods made it more difficult for me. I became hard-headed and miserable. One day, my father asked me to read the book. I read it clear and loud. I read it well. Then, my father covered the pictures on the pages of the book.”Pepe and Pilar”.

Without the pictures, I did not know how to read anymore. My father got a spoonful of salt and made me eat it. He said swallowing salt will make me learn fast. I swallowed the spoonful of salt. It left a painful stirring in my throat. My father asked me to read the book again with pictures on the pages. I read it fast. He asked me to read again with the pictures covered. I still could not read. I was made to eat two spoonfuls of salt.

It was in Grade 3 that I started to learn to read. My teacher, Mr. Crisanto Bartolome was a graduate of Iloilo School of Arts and Trade (ISAT), in Iloilo City. He was also a good carpenter. His way of teaching enabled me to open my mind and learned to read. Soon, I began to learn to read and write. Now, I know that teaching is an art. The way of teaching helped much young children to learn. Challenges and motivations played a big role in teaching children.

Mr. Crisanto Bartolome taught me that to write a word, we get a consonant among the alphabets and put 1 of the 5 vowels. Then he taught me to write my name. He got a consonant “r” then put a vowel “o”. He said this is "Ro" He got another consonant “d” and put another vowel “o”. He read to me "Rodo". Then another consonant “l” and another consonant “f” and another vowel “o”. Then he read slowly my name. “Rodolfo”. I tried to remember it. I spelled it. I followed his way of writing words by putting consonants and a vowel together. I read it again and again. That was how I learned to read and write my name.

It was simple. Just get a consonant. Then add a vowel. Another consonant and add another vowel. Soon, I learned the magic and power of words. Some consonants plus one of the 5 vowels, when combined were turned into words. And words became powerful force in life, in business, education, teaching, politics and religion, Words when written worked for justice, development, freedom, liberation, revolution and peace.

I learned too, the power of words in love. I learned the powers of words in looking for a girl to love. One who learned the power of words could find it easier to find a girl to love!

Sometime in 1964. when I was 24 years old, I learned a beautiful song. The title is intriguing "Words". The song’s chorus says:

.”Smile and everlasting smile, A smile can bring you near to me,

Don’t ever let me find you gone ‘cause that would bring a tear to me

This world has lost its glory, Let’s start a brand new story,

Now my love, right now, There’ll be no other time

And I can show you how my love.

“Talk in everlasting words and dedicate them all to me

And I will give you all my life, I'm here if you should call to me

You think that I don't even mean, a single word I say

It's only words, and words are all I have, to take your heart away

It’s only words, and words are all I have, to take your heart away

It’s only words and words are all I have to take your heart away..”

Few days after I learned a little of consonants and vowels, I wrote my first love letter to my classmate. I was 9 years old. My classmate was lovely. She was petite, with brown skin, straight hairs and a sweet smile. Like me, she also watched her father’s carabao when we had no classes. Sometimes, we rode together on the back of the carabao, me on the front, She on the back of the grazing carabao.

I am already in Grade 3. I wanted to tell the girl that “I love her”. By then, I did not know much about loving girls. But when I looked at her, I felt something scratching in my chest. I wrote my first love letter to her. We often played games with other classmates.

I sat and wrote to her my first " Love Letter". I got a consonant. Then add a vowel. And so on. It was a good feeling, writing my first love letter. I told her, “I lab yo” . When I came to my classmate, she laughs. She said, your love letter to me has the wrong spelling. I kept silent. Soon, I learn to write a love letter with correct spellings. From that first love letter, I wrote few more love letters.

When I was in high school, I wrote love letters for some of my male classmates. Love Letters gave me a little business. And little by little, writing became part of my life. Writing and speaking became my main work, as a newspaperman in Manila, as a Baptist pastor in Iloilo and a farmer planting organic rice, corn and vegetables.

With written letters I reached out to people in villages, towns, cities and provinces in our country. Then, I was invited to other cities and countries in Asia. Europe and Australia. I was asked to participate in development efforts among people and organizations working for development, social and political changes in the world.

Writing was the future for many of us. Today, I still write. I wrote love letters to my wife when I was courting her and after our wedding. Short love letters were part of our lives. After she died, I wrote her love letters. And on special occasions, I had words of love for her. Today I wrote her a love letter, hoping she will read it- “On-Line”.

Soon, I will write stories of love, tenderness and power for both the younger and older generations.