Filipino-Australians in Brisbane

How to Renew Your Filipino Passport in Australia

2009-03-01T19:44:00.003+10:00

The following link will take you to the downloadable forms to renew your passport:

http://www.philembassy.org.au/passport.html

Please contact the Philippine Embassy in Canberra for more information:

Mr. Jermyn Julius R. Checa
Phone No. +61.262732535 / 36 Ext. 231
Fax No. +61.262733984

Requirements

The issuance of the Machine Readable Passport by the Philippines is in compliance with the requirements of International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO) for all member-countries to implement Machine Readable Passports before the year 2010.

The Philippine Machine Readable Passport incorporates the biometrics of the holder making it easy to identify the bearer and at the same time minimizes the instances of tampering and falsification. This shall ensure the integrity of the passport and greatly facilitates the travel of its bearer across the borders. Our machine readable passport embodies world class standards and is now at par with the standards of passport issued by the developed countries. It increases the credibility of the Philippines and better secures the identity of its bearer.

The Department of Foreign Affairs started the issuance of the Machine Readable Passports in the Philippines in July 2007 and our foreign missions abroad are in transition towards implementing the new system. As a service to the people, the passport application fee for the new and hi-tech machine readable passport remains the same.The new Philippine Machine Readable Passport has a maroon cover and contains a data summary in a format that is capable of being read by a machine.

In view of the need to incorporate biometrics in the passport and due to the highly technical specifications, all applicants are required to appear in person when filing their application with the Embassy in Canberra.The passport production process will be done in Manila. The average processing period is 30 days from the time the completed application is received by the Embassy.

Applicants are encouraged to apply early to allow sufficient time for the processing, production and delivery of the machine readable passport.
The current green passport remains valid and can still be used until it expires.

Filipino Radio will be Axed

2009-02-21T20:06:00.005+10:00

It is sad to say that the Filipino Language at 4EB-FM 98.1 in Brisbane will stop programming because of the lack of members and community support.

Only 2 members turned up at the last scheduled AGM on 21 February 2009.

A representative from 4EB-FM board expressed his disappointed over the absence of enthusiasm from Filipinos in Brisbane, considering that we are one of the major migrant groups in the region.

"Keep encouraging your members as this radio program is important in the preservation of your heritage which you owe to your new generations," he said.

Erwin Cabucos, the acting convenor also expressed his frustration over the negative outcome of weeks of preparation and promotion for this AGM which turned to nothing.

"This is our third schedule and still people don't seem to care," he said.

The Filipino language group has been revived in the late 1997 after its long absence due to the disappearing commitment from previous volunteers.

This year, with the group not having been able to reach quorum in its scheduled AGM, it appears that the program will be axed by June.

Amidst this forthcoming negative situation of the group, a new panel operator April Adams is hoping to get her panel license by June this year.

There is only one thing that the Filipino Community in Brisbane can do to save this radio program - to become members of 4eb and to attend an AGM meeting if another schedule is to be made.

Filipino Radio Special Mussels

2009-02-01T16:33:00.006+10:00

We believe that this is the yummiest mussels recipe to have ever come out of a radio team here at 4EB-FM!

You need:

a kilo of mussels

8 cloves of garlic

a medium-sized red onion

a cup of red or white wine

two stems of lemon grass

some olive oil

pepper

In a large pan or wok, saute garlic and red onion. Add mussels, lemon grass and wine. Let it boil for five to eight minutes minutes or until all the mussels have opened. Discard unopened mussles. Serve with bread roll and your choice of wine. Ang sarap!

Let us know how you went. For reproduction of this recipe, please contact the Filipino Radio in Brisbane on 0420983188 or filipino@4eb.org.au. Listen to the only Philippine Radio Show in Brisbane through 98.1FM or online through www.4eb.org.au.

Insomnia

2009-01-20T13:56:00.003+10:00

By Sonia Sygaco

Wide awake in the dead of the night, I struggle to dispel these thoughts. They come, rumbling ideas soon accumulating into wisdom.

I belong to the emerging generation of Filipinos, whose lives have made a turn about. For me nights are like mornings with a mind who never gets tired. I try to close my eyes but instead images flash before me. Tossing in bed, I watch the window glass of the long dark hours blending with the light.

Like a walking zombie with my inability to sleep, I have become a listless dreamer. My ambitions of trying to redeem my national heritage and my dignity have triggered this sleeping disorder. Drown from my thoughts; I do steal time writing at night to release this artistic inevitability. A philosophy, “A life of intensity and meaning follows a life of harmony.”

Everyone has a vision, yet a vision becomes meaningless until one will know his beginnings. The retelling of the tale of Jose Rizal, our national hero who penned the illuminating words in Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo shaped a new consciousness. Fighters like Bonifacio, Lapu-Lapu, Diego and Gabriela Silang who were restlessness warriors had wrestled freedom in their hands. Even the paralytic Apolinario Mabini, in his sleepless mind far reaching the next century of Ninoy Aquino and the rest of the Martial law fighters had awaken the sleeping people. These mind shapers revealed truth for which we learned from their principles.

My inability to sleep perhaps is product of over thinking, awareness of being vigilant. I do not think of rebellion or having thoughts of insurrection. Like a ghost haunting my sleeplessness presents a deeper perspective in life.

This insomnia is a journeying of conviction, inspirational I may say for it means believing oneself. I may have developed this inner sensibility in the process of growing up. It changes as I become more mature. For like others, I have this unending courage for fighting, even if at the end I am the loser. What’s important is I have done something and allowed change to take place. A verbal gymnast who preaches without actions suffers from spiritual blindness and from spiritual deafness. As Teodoro M. Locsin expresses, “Changed not in the sense of being reformed, but as a man is changed after a profound experience.”

You may witness that the young Filipinos are not sleeping on their rights; they have forged their identity in a sovereign nation by the Edsa Revolution. That revolution many of you may not been born yet or may have been offshore. The Edsa spirit liberated us from our older beliefs, our faint voices becoming louder. We are not ashamed to be called Filipinos. For being a Filipino is a trademark of being industrious and being patient.

It is true that most of us back home dream of migrating, to a land they will be called strangers, where it demands a crucial decision between cultures, running risk whether to embrace both or discard the other. These visionaries opt to find greener pastures because they are the builders of a new nation.

Migrants are the backbone of the Philippine economy. For outsiders the value of supporting our extended families seem strange, very strange indeed but only the hearts of Filipinos know its significance. There is this prophesy that one day all Filipino strangers will return home. They will clasp their arms to mother nation who shall embrace her lost generation. For this Diaspora is temporary, as generations after generations will trace their ancestry.

The solitude and loneliness in faraway places reminded you so much closer to home. But home could be your memories when every morning, you find appreciation as your backyard neighbor would greet you with a smile. When you were sick, you remembered someone watching over you or that simple gesture of request when relatives rushed in to assist you. You missed the gathering of friends in weekends where all of you lazily talked about life and the future. Or counting your attendance to every town fiesta where every guest was welcome. This was your way of life, the place you grew up with.

Filipinos can even live the worst of life. Calamities and unfortunate events have never missed us, always hitting our backs that make us resilient and durable. We remain strong even stoic. We may bend to strong winds but we never break. This is because our values are molded from the religious foundation, taking pride of being a Christian nation among our Asian neighbors.

Yes, we are sleepless Filipinos, fighting for recognition. We remain the only nation in Asia with high literacy rate in English. Call centers worldwide are relocating their services here as well foreign publishers in contract-training for on-line work jobs.

We also grace our abilities in transcription business, in web designs, good computer programmers. It was Diosdado Banatao, a Filipino, who first made single chip graphical user interface accelerator to boost internet speed in computers. While controversial Agapito Flores of Bulacan received a French fluorescent bulb patent but sold his rights to General Electric Company. Fe del Mundo, the first Asian to join Harvard University School of Medicine, credited her works for inventing incubator and jaundice-relieving equipment or Dr. Abelardo Aguilar who formulated Erthromycin antibiotics.

Gregorio Zora invented the videophone device and Pedro Flores, a Philippine immigrant in the United States mass produced the first yoyos in his small factory in California. In the field of music, Roberto Del Rosario had many sleepless nights inventing the karaoke and spearheaded various inventions of the piano.

Another unrecognized contribution in space invention was Eduardo San Juan who worked at Lockheed Corporation. San Juan conceptualized ideas for Moon Buggy used by astronaut Neil Armstrong among others for exploration. These scientists with their inability to sleep and creativity had given so much inspiration.

When the perfect moment comes, those who continue to light the candles of hope, for those who give immortal ideas of liberation and honor have reasons of keeping their faith that the “Philippine is worth dying for.”

For those who have come to a realization, this undying spirit insomnia continues to live on. Then the new leaders being watchful will emerge as empowered people, with fearless views and fearful to God. Then the world can witness rebirth of a Philippine nation.

---0---
About the Author:

Sonia B. SyGaco holds a degree in Mass Communication in Silliman University and currently enrolls in the creative writing master’s program in the same school. She contributes for the Sun Star Daily in Dumaguete City and for FilipinoWriter.Com. She is a fellow of the 14th Iligan National Writers Workshop and the 24th Cornelio Faigao Memorial Writers Workshop in the Philippines.

Philippine Holidays

2009-01-20T10:44:00.006+10:00

Some photos from my recent Philippine Holiday:

The 'Hanging Coffins', Sagada, Philippines

'Banaue Rice Terraces', the 8th Wonder of the World, Philippines

Boracay Beach, Philippines

Happy New Year!

2009-01-16T09:51:00.002+10:00

Happy new Year po sa lahat at sana'y masaya ang inyong pasko at ang pagdiriwang ninyo ng bagong taon.

This year, we hope to increase our membership as we try to play good music and talk to all our Filipino-Australian listeners, especially new arrivals to the country. Welcome to our new skilled migrants into Australia and we hope that we can serve you better. If you have any requests, simply send us an email through Filipino@4eb.org.au.

This year we will include job ads and personal classifieds. So if you are an employer and needing Filipino workers - as we are proud of our work ethics, english ability and dedication to our jobs - we would like to hear from you. Email us through the above address.

More importantly, radio members and intending members are asked to attend our Annual General Meeting on Saturday 21 February 2009, at 7:00PM at 4EB-FM, 140 Main Street, Kangaroo Point. More information on 07 33233105 - an afterhours numbers for your convenience.

Thank you and we look forward to working with you in 2009. Mabuhay!

Manila Sessions at the Empire

2008-12-01T20:38:00.002+10:00

*MANILA SESSIONS @ EMPIRE December 4th*

Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire!!Exams are over for another year!!Christmas is just around the corner!!Let's celebrate the party season with pizazz and join us at MANILA SESSION @Empire on December 4th Thursday.

Spanning over two rooms of Hip Hop, RNB and House music. Your festive spirits are bound to be groovin and getting loose til the break of dawn.

With a stellar line up of Brisbane's talented DJ's and dancers, there's noother place to be than at EMPIRE

RnB/ HIP HOP: Malakai Gavin Boyd Oscar

FUNKY HOUSE: Tim Plunkett, Aydos, Radaza

Special performance by: BOUNCEc

heck them out on : http://www.bouncedancestudios.com/

$5 entry (cheap)8 pm til late.

" Maligayang Pasko" & "Merry Christmas" to all

Sunday Picnic at Browns Plains

2008-11-09T15:44:00.004+10:00

Chito was screaming his hearts out to the tune of Ogie Alcasid's hit song, magic mic on his hand and TV screen flashing on the ceiling.

Charles, a newly arrived Filipino worker from Cebu is chatting with two others giving him advice on where to look for a room to rent, San Miguel Beer in their hands.

A group of ladies laughing on one who has just moved into her 7th marriage! They were munching on pork on sticks that Rene the storeowner prepared fresh that day. "It's the luckiest marriage, nevertheless," she said, implying that you shouldn't settle for less.

The ambience of Filipino laughter and commaraderie will never cease whereever you are.

On Sundays in Brisbane's southside, along Beaudesert Road at Browns Plains, the Santa Rosa Shop hosts a genuinely fun get-together weekend for many Filipino Australians.

Everyone is welcome.

A Filipino specialty barbecue pork, crispy pata, lechon and other delicacies are available in affordable prices.

The famous barbecue pork stick simply aligns with that flavour we used to have in the Philippines, at a delicious price of only $2.50. A can of San Miguel Beer for only $3.00 was a hit among guys.

Then there were exchanges of numbers and business cards, chats and smiles.

It was an awesome day.

A simple yet pleasant Sunday lunch from 10AM-5PM for Filipinos and friends is surely a thing to go to on Sundays in Brisbane. Kita-kita tayo roon.

Santa Rosa's phone is 3800 8678 or mobile 0433 215 784.

Filipino Talents Blast at the Empire

2008-11-09T15:31:00.002+10:00

Looking at going out but can't think where?

The Empire Hotel at the Valley are showcasing Filipino talents on Thurday December 4 and everyone is welcome.

Manila Sessions brings back the best of Urban and Dance music and the finest crops of DJs, Dancers and MCs.

It's big!

There's the cocktail bar, a funky house, with talents from Anthony Radaza, Tim Plunkett, Aydos and Bring Back Jack.

At the Dance Bar, there's hip hop, R&B and Neo Soul from Rola-D, Gavin Boyd with Dr. Rhythm (from Australia Got Talent) and Oscar (the King of Raggaeton).

Other special guests will certainly help rock the whole place!

The Manila Sessions at the Empire, $5.00 only all night, specials between 8-11pm and 18+ ID are essential.

Join the fun. See you at the empire. For more info, http://www.empirehotel.com.au/v4/main.htm

Christmas Party

2008-11-09T15:17:00.002+10:00

Anabelle Havelock invites you to her Christmas Party on 15 November 2008 from 5:30PM at the Chinese Community Centre, Nemies Road, Runcorn.

Ms Havelock is a migration agent and a lawyer whose office is located at 29 Wembley Road, Logan Central.

There will be dinner, shows, disco and concert featuring local and international Filipino performers. Lechon will be provided. Guests and friends are requested to bring a favourite dish to share.

Free admission. Bring along some friends.

RSVP to 3299 3953 or email edanhav@optusnet.com.au.

Christmas Mass Schedule - Filipino

2008-11-08T19:50:00.002+10:00

Photo source: www.pbase.com/jun_camba/image/87878741

DECEMBER

Dec. 8th, 7pm, Solemnity of the Immaculate Concepcion at Our Lady of Fatima Church, 350 Mortimer Road, Acacia Ridge

Dec. 13th, 7:30pm, Paskong Pinoy at Guardian Angels Parish Hall, 198 Bay TerraceWynnum, Qld. 4178

9-DAY MISA DE GALLO

Dec. 16th, 7pm at St Bernardine's Church, Vergulde St. Regents Park

Dec. 17th, 7pm at St. Carthage Church, Beaconsfield Tce. Gordon Park

Dec. 18th, 7pm at St Mark's Church, Cnr Lilac & Eucalypt St, Inala

Dec. 19th, 7pm at Our Lady of the Rosary, 61 Edmund St, Caloundra 4551

Dec. 20th, 7pm at Our Lady of Fatima Church, 350 Mortimer St. Acacia Ridge

Dec. 21st, 11:30am, Christmas Carols and Mass at St James Church, 165 Old Cleveland Rd. Coorparoo

Dec. 22nd, 7pm at Sacred Heart Church, Fairway Drive, Clear Island Waters, Gold Coast

Dec. 23rd, 7pm at St Flannan’s Church, Handford cor. Beams Road, Zillmere

Dec. 24th, 8pm at St. Mel's Church, 88 Ipswich St, Esk 4312 and Christmas Mass at St Matthew's Church, 172-180 Bryants Road, Cornubia 4130 (midnight)

Holy Rosary Culmination

2008-10-29T22:18:00.002+10:00

Dear Friends

Please be reminded that there will be HOLY MASSES with Fr Marce Singson on the following dates:

1. FRIDAY, 6:30pm OCTOBER 31 2008 - ROSARY CULMINATION followed by HOLY MASS at Our Lady of Fatima Church, 350 Mortimer Road, Acacia Ridge. Everyone can bring and offer flowers to the Blessed Virgin Mary during the offertory. Would also appreciate if everyone can bring finger foods to share during fellowship.

2. SATURDAY, 7:00pm NOVEMBER 1, 2008 - ALL SOULS DAY MASS at Our Lady of Fatima Church, 350 Mortimer Road, Acacia Ridge

Thanks and regards,

Efren

Come Along to Our AGM

2008-10-24T18:23:00.003+10:00

We invite our listeners to join us in our AGM on Saturday 25 October at 7:00PM at the station at 140 Main Street, Kangaroo Point. Light Snack will be provided.

For more information call us on 0420983188.

Filipino Christmas in Brisbane

2008-10-20T21:21:00.002+10:00

Filipino-Australians and their friends are invited to this year's Paskong Pinoy on Saturday Nov 28, 2008, at 35 Thomson Street, Bowen Hills.

Bring a plate of food and drinks to share.

Heaps of activities to enjoy for the whole family and a lot of new friends to meet.

See you all there.

For more information, call Paula on 0405 060 573 or Pastor Benjie on 0434 413 727.

Recording Every Monday Night

2008-10-20T21:16:00.002+10:00

Filipinos in Brisbane are invited to visit 4EB-FM on Monday nights to join in the recording.

The recording time is held every Monday 8:30PM-10:30PM or later.

The program will be aired the following day Tuesday 9:15-10:15AM.

The station at 140 Main Street, Kangaroo Point is accessible through M1 and ample car park is available behind the station.

Simply call the Filipino program coordinator on 0420983188 or 33233105 to let you know that you are coming so we can prepare a seat for you in the studio.

We can talk about lots of things about you and your funny and sad experiences as a Filipino-Australian in Brisbane.

Attention: Creative Non-Fiction Writers

2008-10-03T09:04:00.002+10:00

This is a call for submissions of creative nonfiction for an anthology tentatively titled, FINDING GOD. The book will be co-edited by Cecilia Manguerra Brainard and Marily Ysip Orosa and published in the Philippines by Anvil. Contributors will receive copies of the book as compensation for the use of their work.

The manuscript should be approximately 7-10 pages long, typed, double-spaced (approximately 1,750 - 2,500 words) and should include your contact information on the first page. We will look at shorter pieces. We are more flexible than these guidelines indicate; let us know what you have in mind. The audience is primarily Filipino and Filipino-American. Submissions can be emailed to CBrainard@aol.com or marily@yahoo.com.

You may also send it by air mail to:
Cecilia Brainard
c/o PALH
PO Box 5099
Santa Monica, CA 90409
USA

Our vision is to collect essays (creative nonfiction) that describe one's spiritual journey towards God. The editors realize that people's spiritual journeys are unique and they are open to individuals' experiences. The following guidelines are simply to give contributors ideas.

The essays could focus on a specific incident that made the writer "find God" or that drew the writer closest to God. We have a preference toward a writing style that uses elements as scene and dialogue. The editors are looking for articles that are lively, specific and visual – articles that may address questions such as:
o Have you ever felt abandoned by God or felt your life in shambles, then realized that God was there all along?
o Did you ever have a close encounter with God? How? What circumstances surrounded such an encounter? Describe how such an encounter happened, in specific terms – where, when, how old were you, how did you feel before the encounter, and how did you feel after the encounter? How has your life changed from such an encounter?
o What specific situation was it that made you realize there is a God and that He is close to you?
o Take us on that journey: make us see you and those around you; make us feel what you had felt when you felt abandoned; make us feel what you felt when you discovered God; and make us see how your life has changed after finding God.

Deadline for submission is October 31, 2008. Early submissions are welcome. Please include your bio (approx. 150 words) in people-friendly narrative form, and all contact information (email address, mailing address, telephone number).
*
ABOUT THE EDITORS: Cecilia Manguerra Brainard is the author/editor of 14 books; Marily Ysip Orosa is the publisher of historical coffee table books. Both Cecilia and Marily have won numerous awards for their literary work. They have collaborated on two other anthologies: Behind the Walls: Life of Convent Girls, and the award-winning A La Carte: Food & Fiction, both published by Anvil.

Cecilia has a blog at http://cbrainard.blogspot.com/.
Marily has a blog at http://marilyo.multiply.com/

The Kite

2008-10-03T08:47:00.004+10:00

A short story by Billy T. Antonio

It is when we try to grapple with another man’s intimate need that we perceive how incomprehensible, wavering and misty are the beings that share with us the sight of the stars and the warm of the sun. --Joseph Conrad

He had it at last, caressing it the way his elders caressed their fighting cocks each morning. It was unlike his small, square tambobong which he had called a kite. This was big, shaped like a bird (beak, wings and tail were recognizable); its skeleton was a thin cross. He proudly lifted it up against the afternoon sun, and its colors—red, yellow, blue—shone brightly. It quivered with the passing wind the same time he felt his heart quiver.

The kite was a gift his Uncle Victor gave him along with a ball of nylon string which he wound, patiently and painstakingly, around an empty milk can he found among the trash his mother threw away that morning. At night, for the past few days, he had dreamt of a kite soaring in the bluest sky. And here it was at last.

In his dream, the kite soared high. He would often rouse and sit in bed pleased but unsteady. Joseph wondered if his kite could reach that high.

He was just about to take the kite for a test flight when he suddenly heard a familiar call. Joseph! He heard it again. Then he saw Lola Mercedes, his paternal grandmother, over at the pump, waving to him. He strode past the sturdy duhat tree where Ben, his eight-year-old brother, was poking its low branches with a stick.

“You’ll fly your kite tomorrow, Kuya?” Ben asked. “I can’t reach the ripe ones with this stick! You think it will fly?”

“Of course.”

“How high?”

“High—really high!”

“Can I fly it, Kuya?”

“No,” he said, “but you can watch me fly it tomorrow.”

“Could you help me pick some duhat?”

“They’re still green.”

Then he heard it again. Joseph! Ben! Louder this time.

“Let’s go!” he told his brother.

“But I still want to play.”

“Play again tomorrow!”

Joseph ran; Ben trailed behind him. Dodging the squat pump, they ran across the backyard and came, gasping deeply, to where his Lola Mercedes stood.

“Where were you boys?” she asked. “It’s already getting dark and your—” She squinted over the narrow yard toward the bend and the duhat tree. And the figure of a man came into view.
The man was Joseph’s and Ben’s father, Bienvinido. He was Lola Mercedes’ eldest son. He wasn’t short, but he wasn’t tall either. He was naturally thin. Marching barefoot, his movements were sure and absolute. He wore a straw hat, faded gray long-sleeves rolled up elbow- high, and a pair of denim shorts which, obviously, was once blue jeans. The hot sun had tanned his skin; however, Joseph and Ben had fair skin, a trait the boys had inherited from their mother.
Joseph looked exactly like his father. Aunt Sam told Joseph that, and it was evident in the old photographs.

Bienvinido hung his sheathed bolo and removed his straw hat. Then he went to wash the mud that clung and caked on his scrawny legs. Vigorously, he raised and lowered the pump’s handle until cold water gushed out.

Joseph went ahead of Ben and his Lola Mercedes into the house. He placed the kite in a corner near the kitchen door, putting it where it was safe from the cat and the dog and high enough from Ben’s reach. Then he helped his mother set the table for early dinner.

As always, his mother laid her Saturday wash quite early, while his father, Ben and he crowded in the quiet of the sala. An aparador divided and separated the sala from his Lola Mercedes’ room. Opposite its eastern wall, the broken television set blindly stared at the sparseness of the small room. The door was closed, but the curtain-less windows, facing the concrete road, were open.

Joseph sat on the window sill, holding a book and looking like a bulol with his slender legs folded and drawn toward his body. His father sat on a rigid, while Ben slouched on the sofa. Glancing at his father, he noted the sleeked-back hair, wide forehead, deep almost piercing eyes and high nose. All these gave his father’s face an almost perfect aristocratic look.

To the neighbors, his father was Manong Kulas. Mrs. Fe, the widowed school principal, sometimes called out at the gate, asking his father to take a look at her son’s Yamaha motorcycle because it wouldn’t start.

“Manong Kulas!” Aunt Flory, their next door neighbor, would call out from across the low wall, inviting his father for merienda. Manong was affixed to a name when addressing an older person, but in the case of his father it was more than mere courtesy. This he knew.

To his Uncle Victor, Joseph’s father was Manong Bien. Joseph had often seen his father and his Uncle Victor talking about trivialities or discussing the day’s news. Occasionally, the two disagreed on their views, but they never fought nor forced the issue. Joseph’s father trusted his Uncle Victor; on the other hand, his Uncle Victor respected his father.

His Uncle Victor once told Joseph that his father dreamed of becoming a lawyer. When his father was only twelve, his Lolo Joseph (whom he was named after), his father’s father, died. At that tender age, his father being the oldest of five siblings took upon his shoulders the responsibilities his father left behind. His father’s dream was like a kite which failed to reach the sky and soar because it was never given the chance to fly.

But Joseph had never had a decent talk with his father. Perhaps it was his father’s stern bearing that deterred his efforts to talk to him. Joseph feared the remoteness, although his fear was brought about not by fright but by deference. Then his father rose and stood straight. He marched out the front door and closed it. Joseph resumed reading the book he was holding.

Joseph stood under the tall mango tree. Joseph glanced over his shoulder at Ben, trailing behind him as usual. Then Joseph stared at the open field before him. Beyond the field the native mango trees, the coconut trees and the bamboo grooves enclosing the field in all directions. The sky was unblemished. The sun fought halfway between zenith and sunset. Joseph scoured the sky, gazing intently until he saw the kites, one then two, then three, four of them soaring high, one of which hovered above the coconut trees, swaggering against the high wind, held by almost invisible cords which slanted toward the boys who were flying them.

Joseph whistled. The wind always blew hard whenever he whistled. Then he grabbed a handful of dust, opened his hand, and let the dust fall from his palm as the wind weakly blew it. He tried to whistle louder as if calling and urging the wind to blow harder.

“Will your kite fly as high as that green one over there, Kuya?” Ben asked, pointing at a particular kite in the sky.

“Yes.”

“I hope it will.”

“Of course it will.”

Having taught Ben the correct way of holding the kite, Joseph instructed his brother to walk farther. Carefully, he loosened and uncoiled the nylon string until Ben was a few feet away from him before he motioned for him to stop. He gave the sagging string a pull.

“Should I let go now, Kuya?” Ben yelled.

“Not yet!” he shouted. “Wait for my signal!”

Again Joseph whistled. He went on whistling for a minute. Then he felt the swift wind. “Now!” he shouted. Ben released the kite in the air with surprising quickness. The kite rose. Cleaving the air, it climbed higher. It tugged the string. He tugged back, thrilled but nervous. But then the wind stopped, its sweeping waves abated. Swaying from left to right, the kite began its slow descent.

Joseph dragged the string. He strode. Then he jogged. The kite began to rise again; but the wind stayed where the kite couldn’t reach. And the kite came hurtling down with a thud. Trembling, Joseph wound the string around the can as fast as he could. If the wind continued to blow the kite would have reached the level where it would smooth sail.

He saw his brother run toward the fallen kite. Joseph’s hands were shaking as he continue winding the string. Looking up, he glimpsed of the other kites soaring. The wind rushed, tousling his hair.

“What happened, Kuya?”

“It’s the wind. It stopped and then changed direction. The wind is high.”

“What’ll we do?”

“Wait.”

“But those kites over there—”

“It’ll be up to the wind. If it keeps changing directions, then the kite can’t stay aloof before it reaches that level where the wind blows constantly,” he explained. He began to whistle again.
“What if you run faster, Kuya?”

“I don’t think that’s enough. The right wind will come.”

“How do you know if it’s the right wind?”

“You don’t.”

“But—” Ben scratched his head. “I don’t understand. Anyway, the wind must be like you.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I don’t understand you.’

Joseph told Ben to take the kite where his brother would be facing west and he east. Then the wind came surging. “Now!” Joseph shouted. The kite rose fast. He uncoiled the string, letting the strong wind bear the kite higher and higher. The kite began to tug the string harder he had to grip the can tightly. “It’s flying! It’s flying!” He heard Ben’s excited shouts behind him. He stopped uncoiling the string. That time he heard Ben shout “Higher! Higher!” The kite began to rise above the mango trees, to glide along with the high wind, and to soar the skies. Faced with the blustering wind, the kite suddenly swerved to the left and plummeted down until it made a loop and rose again. The kite made several dizzying loops before it hit the ground. Although Joseph moved forward in the direction of the wind to abate its fall, he was unable to stop the kite from hitting the ground hard.

Vigorously, Joseph wound the string up fast. He saw Ben run toward the fallen kite. He ran, too.
“It needs a longer tail,” Joseph said, gasping as he reached where Ben stood holding the kite. He wound the string faster until his hands ached.

“Look, Kuya, they’re leaving,” Ben said.

Joseph glanced where his brother pointed at and spotted the other boys ambling home with their kites. Having wound the string around the can, he took the kite and he and Ben languidly walked home. Glancing over his shoulder, Joseph noticed the sun had finally reached the horizon, and the day was nearing its end.

It was the noon of that day. Joseph sat in the sala, absorbed in a book, seemingly lost in its pages as the hours ticked away. His mother meandered into the room. She was small, pale, sallow and inattentive. Taking her seat in a corner of the sala, she stared blankly at the closed door. She sat with a quiet abandon about her, with a reserve that equaled the remoteness of his father, but less daunting.

Joseph do-eared the page of the book he was reading, and then he placed it atop the side table.
“Have you cooked lunch, ‘Nay?” he asked.

His mother just sat motionless as if she heard nothing.

“’Nay, have you cooked lunch?” Joseph repeated.

“I’ll not cook anymore,” she said. “There’s plenty of cold rice.’

“But the rice isn’t enough for all of us. Besides, father wants hot and steaming rice.”

“I’ll not cook anymore.”

No more words were spoken.

Joseph was just about to stand up when his father unexpectedly strode with his haggard shoulders into the room. He looked exhausted.

“Have you cooked lunch?” his father asked, putting his red shirt on.

Joseph was silent.

“I didn’t cook anymore. There’s plenty of cold rice in the pot,” his mother said.

“You expect me to eat cold rice,” his father said in a hard voice.

“But there’s plenty of cold rice,” his mother reasoned out. “Besides I’ll not eat anymore.”

“I don’t care if you eat or not!” his father shouted. “I’m tired from work while you do nothing and you…you can’t even cook lunch!” His father’s blood boiled. He swung his fist at his mother. Joseph sat pale on the sofa.

“Enough,” his mother pleaded.

Then Joseph saw his mother’s lips bleed.

There was a silence as his Lola Mercedes and Ben entered. His father stood on the rug, his body trembling with anger. His mother was wiping the blood on her lips. His father glanced at the sofa.
For the first time, Joseph saw his father as a stranger. ●

Note: First appeared in the Philippines Free Press on January 8, 2005, 'The Kite' was read on radio 4EB-FM 98.1 in Brisbane on September 30, 2008. Billy Antonio was a fellow for fiction at the 44th U.P. National Writers Summer Workshop in Baguio City, Philippines. He writes for Philippine publications.)

FCCQ Annual General Meeting

2008-09-13T01:03:00.001+10:00

FCCQ AGM on 21 Sept 2008 at the Filipino Community Centre at 69 Nathan Road RUNCORN at 2:00pm.

FCCQ reps will be attending the 10th FILCCA (Filipino Communities Council of Australia) on Oct 24-26, 2008 in Hobart TASMANIA.

Filipino Classes

2008-09-13T01:00:00.001+10:00

Filipino classes being held at the Filipino Community Centre at 69 Nathan Road RUNCORN on Saturdays from 1:00 to 3:30pm. Former & new students - please come and enjoy learning Tagalog. Phone 32173248.

We've made it: 34 members!

2008-09-01T10:00:00.006+10:00

There are now 34 members listed in the station which warrant us to have a 1-hour program at 4EB-FM 98.1 every week 9:15-10:15AM.

On behalf of our listeners and 4EB volunteers, I would like to extend my gratitude to all Filipinos who support financially as members of the station. Without you, our only Filipino Radio in Southeast Queensland would not have existed. Our sincerest thanks, indeed.

The radio is currently run by Paula Arciaga, Mar Nur, Gilbert Cordova, Jason Alto, April Adams and Erwin Cabucos who converge at the station at Kangaroo Point every Saturday night to record a 1-hour show. Erwin is currently the group's only panel licence holder but April is currently attending a 6-week course for it.

We make the program such that it appeals to all Filipinos: those who can speak the language as well as those who can not speak the language, particularly the second and third generation migrants.

Although we put emphasis on Filipino language and agenda, we also consider listenership with Australian background who have married Filipinos.

We have Pinoy music, feature articles and other uplifting and positive stories about the Philippines and Filipino people.

Everyone is welcome to join us in our recording every Saturday 8-10PM at 140 Mains Street, Kangaroo Point. Everyone is also welcome to send in announcements and greetings for the program.

We also need more members and volunteers and the number to call is 0732408600, email info@4eb.org.au. The more members we have, the more programming time we will be given. Membership fee is only $15.00 a year for students and concession holders and $25.00 for the non-concesion holders.

The program is also broadcast around the world through http://www.4eb.org.au/.

Any suggestions on what you would like included in the content of the program is also welcome.

Well done, mabuhay ka Pilipino!

Philippine short stories to be read on air

2008-08-29T22:36:00.006+10:00

We are looking for Philippine short stories which we will read on air here at 4EB-FM, 98.1.

'Panitikan sa Radyo' is a new initiative of the Filipino Program at 4EB-FM. It is the only radio station in the world that reads Philippine Fiction on air.

The piece may be in Filipino or in English, exploring aspects of Filipino way of life, now and before, including Filipino sensibilities, working at home and abroad, ethics, vices, family drama, vision and religion.

Word limit: 1000 words, and should be emailed to erwin@4eb.org.au.

Although, we don't offer payment for the selected piece, we will send you a certificate of Literary Achievement, signed by the Manager of 4EB-FM Peter Rohweder and the acting Convenor of the Filipino Program Erwin Cabucos.

The program is aired every Tuesday morning 9:15-10:15, from Brisbane Australia, through 98.1 dial and through the Internet on http://www.4eb.org.au./

In August, we read Noel Sales Barcelona's 'Bote Dyaryo Bakal'.

We can't wait to reading your short stories!

What Happened Last Tuesday?

2008-08-29T22:29:00.003+10:00

Last Tuesday 26 August created a lot of confusion to many of our listeners as the program was not heard at all.

People asked if the Program was no longer running, which of course, is incorrect.

Last Tuesday, due to the unforseen errors at the station, the Afghan program was played on air instead.

What a shame to the program that Erwin had recorded a couple of days beforehand.

The program will be aired again this Tuesday 2 September at its usual time.

The station apologises for inconvenince caused.

Short Story: "Bote Dyaryo Bakal" ni Noel Sales Barcelona

2008-08-29T22:22:00.003+10:00

Umalog ang bahay nila sa pagdaan ng “ahas na bakal”. Weee! Weee! Tsug-tsug-tsug! Hiyaw nito papalayo samantalang mulagat na nakamata sa kanilang sira-sirang kisame si Tino. Wala ang kanyang itay. Alam niya, maagang umalis patungong konstruksiyon doon sa may Punta. Kung saan man ‘yon, ‘di niya alam. Bagaman Sabado.

“Inay! Ano’ng almusal?” kinusut-kusot ang mata habang pababa sa tatlong baitang na hagdan. Naglalaba si Marta, ang kanyang ina. Parang sorbetes ang tingin niya sa puting-puting bulang nag-uumpaw mula sa kanyang batya.

“Ay! Gising na pala ang bunso ko,” anang kanyang ina. Nakangiti. Ang butuhang-mukha, hagyang nabanat sa pagkakangiti sa anak na magpipitong taong gulang. Sa kanyang bulto, akala mong limang taon lamang siya. Maliit. Payat. Hagyang malaki ang tiyan. Halatang kulang sa nutrisyon.

“E ‘di ang paborito mo, pandesal at keso. O siya, malaki na naman ang bunso ko eh. Ikaw na lamang ang magtimpla ng gatas mo ha? Mag-ingat lamang at baka mabanlian,” sabi sa anak habang patuloy ang pagkusot sa santambak na labada.

Ingat na ingat siya sa pagsasalin ng mainit na tubig sa basong mula sa naubos na kapeng binili noong Pasko. Tinimpla ang gatas na halos paubos na. Kaunting asukal ang inihalo. Ayaw niya ang masyadong matamis. Saka nagpalaman ng keso sa malamig nang pandesal.

Hinawakan niya ang bibig ng baso. Hindi kaya ng kanyang mumunting kamay ang init na isinisingaw ng baso. Kagat sa bibig ang pandesal, nagtungo siya sa pinto para doon kumain. Gustung-gusto niyang pinapanood ang paglalaba ng kanyang ina. Sa pagitan ng kagat-subo-lagok, nulas sa bibig niya ang tanong:

“Inay, kailan ako papasok sa eskuwela?”

Napamulagat sa kanya ang ina.

“Malapit na anak. Kailangan lang eh, makaipon ng kaunti para makabili ka ng bag, sapatos, uniporme, lapis at papel. Saka notbuk,” sabi ng ina, tumungo para muling kusutin ang binubunong labada kanina.

“Kailan po ‘yon? Sabi ninyo ni tatay, noong isang taon, mag-aaral na ako. Marunong na naman akong bumasa ng abakada ah! Saka magbilang hanggang sampu. Tinuruan ako ni ate Marie,” inosenteng komento ng paslit. Kagat-nguya-lagok sa pagitan ng batang pagmumuni-muni.

“Eh, wala pa kasi tayong pera. Ha’mo, itatanong ko ke tatay kung may pera siya para makabili ka ng gagamitin mo at saka kita ipapasok diyan, sa may elementari iskul,” sabi ng ina. Parang may bikig sa lalamunan. Patuloy lamang ang kusot at piga. Pilit na itinatago sa anak ang bugtong sa kanyang mga mata.

“Nanay, punta lamang po ako kina Len-len ha? Laro lang kami,” sabi niya.

“Nailagay mo ba sa lababo ang pinagkanan mo, ha?” sabi ng ina. Tango ang nakamit mula kay Tino.

“Mag-iingat ka… ang tren!” sabi ng ina, sa tinig, bakas ang mahigpit ang habilin.

“Opo! Tumatabi naman kami kapag dumaraan ‘yun,” sabi ni Tinong parang nagmamalaking kaya niyang iwasan ang tren.

“Sinasabi ko lang. ‘Di ako lagay na naglalaro kayo sa gitna ng riles. Naku! Kapag nakita kita! May pingol,” sabi niya kay Tino na anyong nanggigil subalit biglang bawi sa ngiti. Napangiti si Tino. Sabay takbo sa labas.

Binaybay ni Tino ang gilid ng riles ng tren. Panglimang bahay ang bahay nina Len-len. Pagtapat pa lamang sa may bintana, isinigaw ang pangalan ng kalaro. Walang sumagot liban sa ina ng kalaro.

“Naku, Tino! Wala si Len-len. Sumama sa ama niya para manguha ng dyaryo at bote. Pero baka pabalik na sila. Kanina pang madaling-araw ‘yon eh,” sabi ni Aling Laring.

“Ganoon po ba? Sige po, intayin ko na lang ho siya rito,” sabi niya.

“O sige. Pero baka mainip ka? O ayan na pala sila, eh!” ani Aling Laring nang makita ang mag-amang nagbibiruan pang nagtutulak ng wala nang laman ng kariton liban sa ilang kilong bigas, ilang itlog, at instant mami.

“Tino! Ang aga mo ha?” sabi ni Len-len sa kalaro. Ni hindi man lamang natulungan ang ama sa pagbababa ng laman ng kariton. Tuwang sinalubong ang kalaro.

“Tay, laro lang kami,” sabi kay Mang Ador, habang papasok sa pinto ng kanilang barung-barong.

“O siya, at mag-iingat kayo!” sabi nito na hinabol ng tanaw ang papalayo nang mga paslit.

“Malaki ba ang kita sa bakal-bote?” tanong ni Tino habang sinisipat ang tansang nakakulong sa parisukat. Pagbato ng pato, apat na tansan ang tumilapon papalabas ng kuwadrado.

“Medyo, lalo na kung pinitpit na lata ng softdrink ang ibebenta mo saka iyon bang kawad ng kuryente… tanso! Yun nga, mas mahal ang dilaw kaysa sa pula. Sa dyaryo, mura lang eh,” pakli ng kalaro habang tinitingnan ang pagsipat ni Tino sa nalalabing anim na tansang nakakulong sa kuwadrado.

“Ahh… sumama kaya ako sa inyo, ano? Kasi kailangan daw ng pera para makabili ako ng gamit sa eskuwela… Ikaw ba, papasok ka na ba sa eskuwela?” tanong niya kay Len-len sabay iling nang hindi man lamang nakapagpalabas ng isa sa natitirang anim na tansan.

“Oo raw. Hindi ko alam kina Inay at Itay eh. Gusto mong sumama puwede naman. Kaso papayag ba ang tatay at nanay mo?” sabi ni Len-len na nakapaglabas ng tatlo sa natitirang anim.

“Papayag naman siguro ang mga ‘yon. Saka gustung-gusto ko na talagang pumasok sa eskuwela,” aniya. Pinagmasdan niya ang pagtilapon mula sa kuwadrado ang tatlo pang tansan.

“Lalabas ba ulit kayo mamamaya?”

“Oo,” sabi ng kalarong muling inaayos ang mga tansan para muling sipatin at tirahin.

“Sama ako. Kahit sandali lang para maranasan ko ang ginagawa n’yo. Puwede ba?” sabi niya, himig nakikiusap sa kalaro.

“Sige. Pero dapat magpaalam ka ha? Iyong maayos,” bilin ng kalaro.

Tanghalian. Sa pagitan ng pagsubo, sinabi niya sa ina ang gustong mangyari. Sasama siyang magtulak ng kariton at maghalukay ng basura para magkaroon ng kaunting barya.

“Hindi mo naman kailangang gawin iyon. Saka, maliit ka pa,” sabi ng ina.

“Pero bakit po si Len-Len, sumasama?” sabi ni Tino. Tila maiiyak.

Nahabag ang ina. Sa kanyang puso, alam niya ang pagnanasa ng kanyang anak na makapag-aaral. Matagal na niyang napupuna ang inggit sa munting mga mata ng anak sa mga nagsisipasok na mga bata doon sa kalapit na eskuwelahan. Minsan, nakikita niyang nakatanghod ang anak sa mga ito. Ang lumang abakadang napulot ng ama sa basurahan ang pinagtitiyagaang basahin. Kabisado na niya ang mga nakasulat doon–mula sa puso.

“O siya. Kunsabagay, hindi naman siguro masamang sumama ka. Pero ngayon lang ha? Hindi papayag tiyak si Tatay na lagi kang sasama sa pagbabasura at baka magkasakit ka.”

Kumislap ang mga mata ng paslit. Maya-maya pa, kasama siya ng kalaro at ng ama nito sa pagtutulak ng kariton.

Dahil nasa munting puso ang pag-asam sa biyayang dulot ng dyaryo, bote, bakal at iba pang basura, tila walang pagod ang munti niyang mga bisig. Basyo ng hinyebra, toyo, patis ang nakita sa basura. Ang mga papel, na kahit matagal niya bago maisalansan dahil sa binabasa ang laman, masinop na inilalagay sa kanilang kariton.

“Ang sipag naman ni Tino ah!” sabi ni Mang Ador. Binibilang ang nakikitang basura ng paslit.

“Gusto ko po kasing pumasok sa eskuwela,” sabi niya, nakangiti.

“Naku, talagang mana ka sa tatay mo! Ha-ha-ha! Basta’t may gusto, ginagawa ang lahat. O siya, tama na ‘yan at marami na tayong nakuha,” sabi ni Mang Ador sa paslit.

“Mayroon pa po, banda roon. Kukunin ko lang,” sabi ni Tino.

“O siya, sige. Mag-iingat ka ha? Puntahan ka namin ni Len-len maya-maya.

Masigla ang katawan niya, patalun-talon pa habang papunta sa kinakitaan ng maraming basurang pinapag-asang makatutulong sa kanya para makapasok sa munting eskuwelahang malapit sa kanila.

Mga boteng nagkalat sa tabi ng riles at ilang bakal sa mismong gitna nito ang nakita ni Tino. May ilang karton din na mula sa mga bahay-bahay na ibinagna na lamang sa tabi.

Nasinop na niya sa dalang sako ang ilang boteng nasa tabi ng riles. Nalibang naman siya sa pagkuha ng ilang pirasong bakal na nasa gitna ng perokaril. May ilang bote rin ng hinyebra at piraso ng garapa ang nasa gitna ng dinadaaanan ng tren na gumigising sa kanya tuwing umaga. May ilang dyaryo rin siyang nakita. Binasa ang ilang nakalaman saka isinilid sa sako. Makadaragdag din, sabi ng kanyang munting puso. Nalilibang siya habang sinasabi sa sarili na baka makabili siya ng bag at ilang gamit pang-eskuwela kapag napuno niya ang sako.

Samantalang nagmumuni-muni, patuloy ang silid ng paslit ng mga nakikitang bote sa kanyang sako. Linga… linga… linga… Kapag may nakitang maaring pakinabangan, silid sa sakong nangangalahati na rin. Mabigat. Halos hila na niya subalit walang pagod ang katawan niya.

“Gusto kong pumasok sa eskuwela,” sabi ng munting isip niya.

Nalunod ng mga pangitain ng eskuwela ang isip ni Tino. Linga. Kapag may nakita, kuha, silid sa sako. Napatili ang kaibigan niyang si Len-len. Lunod ang isip ni Tino sa pangitain ng eskuwelahan, ng mga bata. Hindi niya naririnig ang tili ni Len-len at ang sigaw ng ama nito. Hindi niya naririnig ang huni ng tren…

Please Note: Noel Sales Barcelona is the OFW editor of Pinoy Weekly (http://www.pinoyweekly.org), a weekly news magazine in the Philippines. He is also the media and communications officer and head, advocacies and education committee of the National People's Media and Press Center of the Philippines, Inc. - media non-governmental organization based in Quezon City. He also a correspondent of PINAS, a weekly newspaper that circulates in more than 20 countries all around the world and writes for Reach Out magazine, circulated in Japan. Sales Barcelona is also an active member of Kilometer 64 (KM 64) Poetry Collective, Artists' Response to the Call for Social Change and Transformation (Artists' ARREST), and the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines (NUJP).

Chaplaincy Night Once More

2008-08-29T22:12:00.002+10:00

For more information on Chaplaincy Night on 6th September 2008, please email Efren on efren@bnefilaustchaplaincy.org.au.

Ivy Terasaka Short Story Competition 2008

2008-08-29T21:49:00.002+10:00

The deadline for the annual IVY TERASAKA SHORT STORY COMPETITION is on October 29, 2008.

The competition was named for Ivy Terasaka who was an emerging writer vacationing with her family when the Tsunami of 2004 swept the beach resort where they were to spend their holiday.

For a short while, she was a familiar face and voice at various Singapore literary events.

In late 2003, Ivy discovered Our Own Voice and submitted a short story. 'The Last Time I Saw Nanay' was published posthumously in the January 2005 issue of Our Own Voice http://www.oovrag.com/stories/stories2005a-4.shtml

To honor her dream of being a writer, the editors of the cyberspace journal are holding this annual competition in her memory.

For guidelines, email our.own.voice@gmail.com.