The foreigner looked like any typical tourist. He was evidently caucasian with his aquiline nose and tanned white skin. He sported a pinstriped pants and a colorful polo shirt. Somewhat muddied, his shoes resembled those worn by tennis players. His hair was slightly reddish with big curls all over his big head. Even for a caucasian, he was taller than their normal run. A camera hung by a strap from his neck.
Leisurely, he ambied by the narrow street of the rural town's commercial district. Peddlers offered him various farm produce and souvenirs for sale. He shook his head to everyone to signify disinterest.
A middle aged farmer stopped to stare at the tourist. In that barrio, a white-man was a rarity. So to see one was something of a spectacle. The farmer continued to gawk not knowing the foreigner would take offense.
Without warning, the tourist slapped the farmer with great force. As the tiller of the soil sprawled on the sidewalk, others crowded around out of curiosity. A bystander assisted the fallen man who now had traces of blood on his lips.
The farmer stood up and said in anguish more than anger, " What did you do that for? I did not do you any wrong. If at all, I was simply looking at you. Is that an offense where you come from?"
The foreigner braced himself just in case the crown ganged up (pagtulung-tulungan) on him. Then he shouted, " That was for Pearl Harbor!"
The farmer wiped the blood from his lips and replied calmly, "Look , there is a mistake. I am not a Japanese. Maybe I have a slit eyes. That is because I have a Chinese blood but I am a Filipino."
The caucasian answered with some belligerence " Chinese, Vietnamese, Burmese, Japanese....they're all the same to me."
"Who are you anyway?" asked the farmer.
I am Mr. Goldberg," replied the foreigner.
The farmer suddenly slapped the foreigner on the face. :" That is for the Titanic!"
:Hey I had nothing to do with the sinking of the Titanic," explained the foreigner somewhat disconcerted by the accusation and the assault." That was caused by an iceberg."
With a flourish the farmer declared, " Iceberg, Goldberg, Pittsburg... they are all the same to me.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Posted by onlinepolice at 7:43 PM
The Farmer sat on the upturned wooden mortar in the front yard. His left foot dangled on the ground. His right foot rested on the mortar with his bended knee supporting his chin. Both hands manipulated a fishing net being repaired of holes.
His twelve-year old son sat on a small stool beside him. His position approximated his father;s except the body whittled a piece of guava wood forming a turumpo (top).
As the top began to form, the boy blurted out. " This toy top is in the form of a heart. I know what a top is. The heart has the same shape but, come to think of it, I do not know exactly what love is!"
The father smiled knowingly and responded, " I do not know either but my grandfather once told me this account. An angel was sent to find out how the world defined love.
"The angel went to the sea and asked the question. The sea answered that love was the river sending water.
" The angel visited the shore and inquired of the definition of love. The shore said love was the tide that rose and fell each day.
"The angel soared to the mountain and queried the imposing peak. The mountain replied that love is the multitude of stars that shone at night,
:The angel stopped by the trees to find out their thoughts about love. The grains answered that love was the gentle rains that nourished them.
"The angel then asked the soul about love. The soul replied that love is the heart or anything that giveth is love
. For love is sharing and sharing is love. And love is GOD.While GOD is love"
Posted by onlinepolice at 6:40 PM