For the Love of Stories

The sun is high. A warm breeze fills the air. Sparse tufts of clouds are spread throughout the sky.  It is going to be a beautiful day. I just know it. It is the day of the Hi Sandangaw, A Waray Tale storybook launch. As I alight our vehicle, green and silver balloons intertwined set in front of the glass door entrance complete with hanging vines creating a forest-like entry into the venue greet me along with lively chirpings of "Maupay na hapon!" from our Grade 11 student volunteers. As I enter, Hi Sandangaw stands alone on a wooden book stand beside an arrangement of flowers on the registration table. Amina, Melo and Kalipay are spread out as well. I step inside the room and am greeted by this expanse of white light emanating across the entire space. I would like to believe this is the light of good energy one great story brings. Banig is laid out on the floor complete with throw pillows and a bean bag. In the small stage are two potted bamboo plants on both ends. An animated view of what one can only presume to be the mountains of Danglay, is printed on tarp bordered by Filipiniana-print strips of cloth, plastered on the wall as backdrop. Dreamcatchers hang from the hooks completing the border. I close my eyes and deeply breathe in the air, the wonderful air of anticipation for the afternoon ahead.  As the minutes tick, the children arrive. Their mothers accompany them. Some are caregivers. Some are fathers. School teachers arrive as well. The children are dressed beautifully. One in particular was dressed as if she was going to a party. "She told me that the attire was formal,"her mother enthuses. They find their place on the Banig. In a short while the children play and talk with each other as if nothing else in the world mattered. They even start a game of tag. Obviously they feel completely at home.

Soon thereafter the Sirang Theater performers dressed in their playful garb take their places on the Banig with the children. The musicians with their instruments settle to left side of the room. The room is packed and the program is about to start. I dim the lights and the emcee, fellow Katig Writer Jessa Tan requests everyone to stand for the prayer to be led by Ormoc City Toastmaster Percolator Camille Tan Bagalay and the singing of the Philippine National Anthem. I turn the lights back on and Jima Zandra Jimenea Vergara, the lead organizer of the book launch and proprietor of IRead Bookshop welcomes us all. Sari-sari Storybooks Publisher Christina Newhard has sent us a video message as well. She gives us a brief back story of how Sari-sari story books began and expresses her gratitude to the organizers of the book launch. Jessa then introduces the author of Hi Sandangaw, Voltaire Oyzon. Dressed in a simple white polo and blue jeans,  he greets us all hands clasped together and bows. He walks to the red couch placed strategically stage right facing the children who are rapt in attention. Then the magic begins.

Music rings through the air and the performers spring from their places and break into voices and song. The wonderful enunciation of words spoken and sung in Waray permeates the spaces of multilingual understanding between the children and adults. Eyebrows meet in confusion at first. Mouths are agape in awe as the performers tell the story with their entire bodies. And then the smiles break and laughter too. Clearly, there is only one universal language here. Oh the beautiful sound of laughter from the children! I take my seat behind them. I sit cross-legged on the floor as well. I am no longer in the room.  I am now in the middle of the forest searching for the eagle in the mountains of Danglay together with Sandangaw where the Magic Woman tells us to go. Sandangaw then tasks two girls from the audience to help him fetch water from the well using the straw hat to imagine as the basket. The basket of course comes up empty. Sandangaw asks everyone in Waray, "What should I do?"  A sharp voice pipes up from the audience. "Cover the holes with mud!" The voice comes from a 1st Grade student who has read the story many times. Taking her cue, Sandangaw then follows her advice. The fairies see this and proceeds to play a trick on him. He goes round and round in circles until he realizes what has happened. When he finally brings the water-filled basket to the eagle, everybody holds their breath.  The eagles eyes are open signifying that he is asleep.  And that could only mean one thing. Sandangaw could be eaten up just by waking the eagle from his sleep! But of course that does not happen. It is only Sandangaw who has achieved this great task. It is only Sandangaw who has shown courage and wit. The eagle says to him the most important thing of all, "You do not need to be big to do good things." The Sirang Theater performers once again break into dance and song. Applause thunders and overflows, filling the entire room.

"What made you write the story?" the little boy asks the author without skipping a beat as soon as the microphone is handed to him. Sir Voltaire barely finishes answering the first question when another hand is raising.  "Is it really possible for a person to be one hand-span tall?", "How long did it take you to write the story? Where did you get the inspiration?", "How many libraries have a copy of Sandangaw? What other books did you write?", "What would be the name of Sandangaw if he were a girl?", "Was it easy or was it hard to write?", "How many years have you been writing books?", "How old were you when you started writing books?", "Was your grandfather a writer?" ,"Why did he tell the story but didn't write it?", "What is it like being a book writer?", "Where did you get the idea to start writing books?" In between the questions, the author answers as best as he can all the while shaking his head in disbelief at the kind of questions being thrown at him. I, on the other hand, watch in amusement and joy at the excitement of the children wanting to know more about the author's process in creating Sandangaw's story. "We have to write our own stories," he answers the last question. "Like a diary?" a little girl's voice chimes in the background. The author may or may have not heard it. But I did. I answer  her in my heart, "Yes, dear girl, perhaps like a diary. Our own stories..."

The emcee breaks my reverie and  announces that it is time for the book signing. The children line up with their books in their hands. Photos are taken. I converge with the other organizers and talk with the parents and other audience members. We sip the sikwate that one of sponsors of the event, Tsokoleyte, has so kindly served all the audience members with. We savor Young Attitudes' mini cupcakes' over commentaries of how we should do events like this more often. Congratulations are given. Happiness is seen in everybody's faces. We pose for group photos with the Sirang Theater Ensemble who have beautifully and compellingly brought the story to life. We pose with the student volunteers with our palms wide open for Sandangaw's one hand span height. I do not want it to end. But as with all things, it does. The children, one by one go home with their books in tow.  The Grade 11 student volunteers roll up the banig to be packed away. The throw pillows are returned to the owners. The beanbag is hauled to the pick-up truck. The potted bamboo plants are taken away as well. The dreamcatchers are taken off the hooks from the ceiling. The tarp is removed from the wall. The Filipiniana cloth strips are folded and packed away. I sit in one of the few remaining chairs. My feet aches from playing the role I was tasked with, being the stage director for the event. My heart aches too for the event having to end so soon, for the story to end too soon. I understand now the words, "Time is too short for those who rejoice." Everything that just transpired was just like a blink of an eye. And yet, this love of ours, for stories, for creativity, for a world of wonder, for a universe of imagination, I understand now too Henry Van Dyke's , "For those who love, time is eternity."

I hand Sir Voltaire my copy for my two boys who have autism,  for him to sign. He writes,

"For Garret and Morgan, Stories will set us free." 

I accept it, place it on my chest. I say my thanks. Sir Voltaire bows and thanks me as well.

Finally for what seems like an eternity as well, I say my goodbyes to my co-organizers and exit the room. I walk past the books laid out on the registration table. What was left of them, at least. I stand for a little while under the green and silver balloons twisted into tree-like branches with the hanging vines and breathe in the warm breeze that perpetuated all afternoon.  The sun has begun her slow descent, the clouds making way for her. The storybook launch of Hi Sandangaw has come to a close. What a beautiful day it has been. What a beautiful storied day it has been.

Hi Sandangaw

A Waray Tale

Istorya ni Voltaire Q. Oyzon

Book Launch

Origami Center

February 9, 2019

Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity. Henry Van Dyke
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/henry_van_dyke_161777

Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity. Henry Van Dyke
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/henry_van_dyke_161777

Photos by: Kyla Tan, Grade 11 Volunteer Photographer