III
Honorata
“Sacrifice”
Honorata kept a close eye at her son, Alejandro, the seventh but not the youngest, as he was playing in the stream with her uncle Julio. There is an unexplainable affinity that she feels toward this son of hers, as distinct from his seven other siblings. Maybe it is it because at a young age, Alejandro was already showing to be different. He has the intellect and sharpness of the Contradas, but he definitely has her heart, the heart of being a Tercero. He is the only child that would feel comfortable playing with the neighbors kids, and would not cringe at the smell of sweat. He is the only one who would look forward to being brought to her parents farm, and play in the fields and springs with wild abandon. He is the only one who would not be picky about what to eat.
At some other time, she could have also attributed this to the Agta heritage of his paternal grandmother. Except that there are reasons why these things may not be in fact the case. Maria Segunda Contrada, the mother of her husband Bienvenido, may be pure Agta, but there are certain things that she knows deep in her heart that would make it difficult to trace Alejandro’s affinity to the soil and the downtrodden to her paternal grandmother. And this is not just because of the fact that Maria Segunda ran away from her Agta identity. There is something deeper, an unsaid truth that many would rather not talk about, but something that has always eaten her, nagging deep inside her.
There was a reason why she visited her parents in Santa Justina. She wanted to breathe. She wanted to breathe not just the fresh air of the place that nurtured her even during the war years when she was still a young lady. She visited her parents, their farm, with Alejandro, to get away from the suffocating air that permeated the palatial ancestral home of her husband’s family, and its secrets, and its politics.
When she met Bienvenido, it was at the most unusual moment. She was that girl who tended the vegetable store in the public market. He was that handsome debonair who many girls, and even women, and some men too, fantasized about. They came from two opposing contrasts. She is poor; he is rich. Her family is from the poor wing of a powerful political clan, the Terceros of Iriga who later become local leaders of the emerging Liberal Party of Manuel Roxas. His family were already strong allies of the Nacionalista Party of Manuel Quezon.
The winds of war were slowly enveloping the world, but took time before it made its presence felt in Buhi. And when it did, it changed the lives of Honorata and Bienvenido forever. That lazy market day afternoon, Bienvenido was his usual self, gallivanting, strutting like a peacock in the town square, as a few meters away Honorata was already counting the few pesos she earned selling the vegetables harvested by her father Gregorio and mother Eduarda early that morning.
And then it happened. All her broke loose. A Japanese bomber flew low from the direction of Mt. Asog, strafing the lakeshore with wild abandon. Bienvenido ran as fast as he could and took cover under the very first papag that he saw. And there he found a cowering Honorata, seeking shelter liker him, under the papag that a few hours before she sold vegetables from. The instinct of Bienvenido was to throw Honorata under his protective embrace, as if to shield her from the certain death raining above them.
That moment was forever etched in the memories of both. Honorata saw this handsome man with Chinese features like a knight in shining armor. Bienvenido saw this beautiful woman who needed his protection.
When the mayhem was over, they both crept out from under the papag, and saw the death and destruction around them. Market merchandise were strewn all over. Some people were injured. And some were obviously dead. Honorata was in shock. All she could muster was a whimper as she was on her knees, trying to collect the coins and peso bills she was counting prior to the bombing attack. Bienvenido reached out his hand to help her stand up. He has to help her find a way home. And that exactly what he did, after asking the terrified Honorata where is home. She said that it was just close. Little did he know that it is about seven kilometers away. As they walked, they began with small talk, which grew into more probing questions. Whether Honorata is married and Bienvenido has a novia, to both of which they replied in the negative. And as they entered the yard of Honorata’s parent’s house, what started with a bombing ended up with a kind of bonding between them.
And it was already dark, that Gregorio and Eduarda had to offer Bienvenido some food and a bed for the night. Bienvenido, the otherwise picky, pampered, spoiled son of the Contradas of Buhi would feast on boiled cassava dipped in balao, and he ate it like it was the most tasteful food he ever had. It was less the food but the sight of Honorata whose beauty, which he realized showed Spanish mestiza features which she obviously got from Gregorio, was amplified by the subtle dramatic lighting of the gasera. Honorata may be poor, but she is actually from the lineage of the Tercero family who descended from an intermarriage between the Indios and their Spanish masters. Stories would have it, however, that Gregorio’s lineage descended from a native woman who was raped by a friar.
Under other circumstances, Bienvenido would have made a move to beguile, and even touch Honorata, which he is used to do to very willing women of the town. After all, he would not have earned his reputation of being a ladies man for nothing. But Atang, which is the pet name by which Eduarda called her daughter, is not that kind of women for Bienvenido. She is a woman who deserved to be respected.
Bienvenido promised Honorata that when this war is over, he would be looking for her. He promised to himself that if fate would allow it and they meet again, he would propose to her and marry her, with or without her mother’s permission. He knew Maria Segunda would be difficult, but not his father Modesto. He is certain he would not oppose. After all, he fell in love with a married Agta with two children as a rebellion against her grandmother Valentina. And Modesto will not have a problem if his son displeases his Agta mother to marry a farmer’s daughter.
When the winds of war stopped blowing, the Contrada dynasty lost two of its men. Maria Segunda commanded Modesto and Bienvenido to go to Bataan and look for the remains of her two sons. Modesto was about to oblige, but Bienvenido protested and argued against her mother. He pointed out the pointlessness of it all. It would be like looking for two needles in a giant haystack.
Besides, Bienvenido was less interested in searching for the bodies of the dead. He was more interested in searching for the living named Honorata Tercero. It didn’t take long. He immediately saw her, washing clothes in the Barit river close to their farmhouse in Santa Justina. And when he called her name, she looked up. “You came back,” she happily told him. “I did, as I promised you,” he replied.
This is the thought that was playing in Bienvenido’s mind when he was lying in that hammock while his mother Maria Segunda and grandmother Valentina were talking in the porch of their house about him. It was right after he told her about his intention to marry Honorata Tercero.
The next day, he fetched Honorata and her parents from Santa Justina. He knew that hell would freeze over first before her mother would agree for a pamamanhikan. Hence, if Maria Segunda will refuse to go to Santa Justina, then he will bring Santa Justina to Maria Segunda.
The encounter was tense. Honorata and her parents were outside looking up to the house, but can clearly hear the loud voices inside.
“Why her?,” Maria Segunda asked. “She is just after our money! You don’t even know her.”
Bienvenido couldn’t believe that her mother would ever dare say those things. These, from the Agta who left her husband and children to elope with a rich Chinese mestizo. He simply told her that she cannot do anything anymore. He made up his mind. He is marrying Honorata Tercero as soon as possible.
“I will disinherit you, you ingrate!” Maria Segunda screeched.
And out of nowhere, Modesto’s baritone voice boomed. “No you will not. He is my son. And I approve.” He rarely contradicted Maria Segunda, but this time he did. “Of all people, you should be the last person who should be saying those things! Aquel que no mira hacia atras nunca llegara a su destino! Do not forget where you originally came from.”
Maria Segunda was so stunned she was unable to speak, for an hour or so.
Meanwhile, Eduarda was practically begging Honorata to just forget Bienvenido, and for them to just leave. But Gregorio Tercero, fresh from his guerrilla battles, and armed with some knowledge about this new ideas of socialism and class conflict that is being spread by the Hukbalahaps, stopped his wife. “You will marry the man and change this family! You will do it in the name of everyone they have oppressed, and prove to them we are not dirt. You will give birth to Contrada children who will be Terceros by heart and who will eat this arrogant clan from within,” he told his daughter.
Honorata is not a political activist in the mold his father wants him to be. All she wanted was to be with Bienvenido, even if it means committing herself to a life of sacrifice.
And the marriage was set. And it happened.
Meanwhile, Maria Modesta was fuming deep inside since that day Modesto tamped her down. She was less disturbed by the thought of Bienvenido going against her command, and more about Modesto finally finding a voice to tell her a piece of his mind.
Honorata was willing to pay the price. She was ready to sacrifice comfort and peace of mind for the sake of Bienvenido. And sacrificed she did. She had to endure being treated like a lower member of the Contrada family. She had to endure the maltreatment from the hands of Maria Segunda down to Bienvenido’s siblings Matilda and Fermin, and his wife Lourdes. Every time Bienvenido leaves for his work in Iriga City, she would find herself being tasked to do household chores which are usually done by house helpers, from washing clothes to cleaning, and even throwing and cleaning the bed pans of the family. When she gave birth to her children, she was denied making decisions for them, with Maria Segunda, Matilda and Lourdes interfering with her child rearing. Sadly, her only ally Modesto rarely said a thing. She dismissed all of it as mere intrigue among women.
One day, Bienvenido came home early because he was not feeling well. As he was entering the house, he heard a loud commotion at the back. And to his shock, he saw his wife being rudely berated by Matilda for ruining her dress. Bienvenido couldn’t believe what he saw, and heard. His wife was being treated like an ordinary helper by his own family.
It was just too much. Right there and then, he told Honorata to pack their things, and those of their children. Without even saying a word, they left the Contrada ancestral house and settled in a small entresuelo.
Life became extremely difficult for Honorata and Bienvenido. As outcasts of the Contrada family, they have to eke a living to feed their growing family. But Bienvenido was a good provider. He never gave up, and kept on working. Honorata decided to work on obtaining a college degree to become a teacher, and Bienvenido spent for her education. Gradually, life became better. They were able to build a small but comfortable house, a stone throws away from the Contrada ancestral home. And piece by piece, relationship between the big house and the small house became more pleasant, even if Honorata can still sense that her children who are all Contradas by blood are more welcome than her. She can still sense the discomfort, the artificial barrier that seemed to prevent her from being fully accepted, and assimilated.
Yet, life was not totally better for Honorata, and this is less in the way the Contradas in the big house treated her. Some things really did not change with her husband. Bienvenido may have been a good father and provider, but he was never truly loyal to his marriage to Honorata. His youthful gallivanting and flirting did not leave him. His womanizing stayed and even grew. He began to gamble and got addicted to cockfighting. He had relationships with several women, siring several children with them. And in all of these, Honorata kept her silence. Women of her generation were expected to suffer in silence, as long as their husbands provided well.
Besides, Honorata is more concerned about the way her husband is being treated by his family. She felt that Bienvenido was getting bad deals in terms of property distribution. She can sense a deep-seated animosity felt by her mother-in-law and toward her husband. Bienvenido may play dumb about it, or he may even be actually clueless, but as a woman Honorata sensed that something is not right. This is more amplified when she contrasts the way Maria Segunda treats Matilda and Fermin with the manner she deals with Bienvenido. It is as if Bienvenido is not her son. She has been hearing stories, particularly from the helpers in the big house, most of whom are either Maria Segunda’s relatives from Cabatuan, or are from the other side of the lake in Iraya. She wanted to raise the issue openly, but was afraid of what trouble it can bring to the family.
So she just turned her cheek to Bienvenido’s womanizing to spare him of the possible trouble he may land himself into with her family.
Unknown to her, the dark clouds of conflict were just around the corner for Honorata. It was election time in 1969. The Presidency was being hotly contested between Ferdinand Marcos of the Nacionalista Party and Sergio Osmena of the Liberal Party. Naturally, the Contradas were all out for the Nacionalista candidates. Their big ancestral house became a gathering place for campaign workers, as the family played host to visiting dignitaries not only from other places in the region, but even from Manila. Modesto was even elected as a delegate to the proclamation convention of Marcos who was running for a second term. The Contradas are in strong alliance with the Fuentebellas, who were the local leaders for the Nacionalista Party in the province of Camarines Sur
The Terceros of Santa Justina, on the other hand were all behind Sergio Osmena. After all, they are part of the larger clan affiliated with the Alfelors of Iriga City, a bitter rival of the Fuentebelles for political supremacy in the province, and who are stalwarts of the Liberal Party.
Honorata is a Tercero. But she is now married to a Contrada. The Terceros are staunch Liberals, while the Contradas are die-hard Nacionalistas. On the day Honorata and Bienvenido were summoned to the big house, she already had an inkling what it was about. She already got an advanced warning from one of the house helpers. She was prepared.
What she did not anticipate is that she would not only be facing the family, but even also some local leaders of the Nacionalista Party, some of whom she did not even know. Modesto did all the talking, even as everyone, from Maria Segunda to Bienvenido’s two siblings were there to become an audience to a partisan and public dressing down, her very own public dressing down. “We are all here to tell you to inform your relatives to stop campaigning for the Liberals.” Modesto did not even pretend to ask nicely. He was commanding her. “You are now part of this family. I hope you and your family in Santa Justina would know your proper places, and remind yourselves of the help the Contradas have graciously given you. You will all vote for Marcos and the Nacionalistas.”
Honorata was speechless, and was in shock. Here is a man who defended her once, long time ago, the man who defended her right to marry his son. And she looked at her husband, the one who rebelled against his own family to marry her. The one who stood up for his principles and his family, protecting her from his abusive family, and who decided to raise their children away from the suffocating air of the big ancestral house. And there he was, quietly standing by as her dignity was being diminished, and her family, the one she was born into, and not wed, being treated like dirt.
She asked to be excused. But instead of being allowed, Modesto queried if she understood. She just looked at him, and to all of them, and excused herself now without asking permission. She hurriedly walked to their smaller house a block away, with Bienvenido walking after her. She didn’t even notice that it started to rain, as the dark clouds on the side of Mt. Malinao indicated that a tribunada was coming. When they reached their house, he accosted her, and asked how can she be so rude, and told her how ashamed he was.
Honorata, the sweet, soft-spoken Honorata looked at her husband. It was all she needed, and the words just flowed like a rushing Barit river during a tribunada.
“Rude? How dare you call me rude! You were the ones who were rude. Your father was the one who was rude. How dare you rub your wealth and power on my face as if your family fed my clan. We do not owe you anything. We did not take away anything from you. It was your family who took so many things from me, my peace of mind, my comfort. I loved you and I thank you for providing well. But you took whatever gratefulness I can show when you caused me so much pain every time you womanize. You are even not decent enough not to shit far away from where I live, when you impregnated that whore from Tabao. And now you are telling my family to stop becoming who they are just because it is politically inconvenient for you. My family have been Terceros long before I met you. Whatever politics they have is theirs and only theirs to decide. And you did not even have the courage to defend me.”
Bienvenido appeared to stop her and protest, but she went on.
“But what can I expect? You cannot even defend yourself from the maltreatment you are getting from you mother. Let me ask you. Are you really her son, or are you your father’s bastard from another woman?”
Bienvenido raised his hand, poised to hit her. The thunder roared and the lightning flashed with so much ferocity. He withdrew his hand. Stunned. Wasted.
Honorata did not wait for the tribunada to pass. He called out Alejando and dressed him ready for a short journey. “We will go to your Tatay Goryo and Nanay Edang’s house.” She put on him a raincoat. And they quickly left.
As she now gazed over the stream near her parent’s modest farmhouse, watching over her son, she began to muse over the fact that there is a limit to the sacrifice she can give in the name of her marriage, and her love for her husband. This is what she just found out. She wanted to give up. A train of unpleasant thoughts was already beginning to form in her mind.
This was only broken when her father Gregorio tapped her shoulder gently as he was motioning Alejandro to come over to enjoy the snack of fried banana which he brought with him.
He asked her if she was giving up? She did not answer but it showed in her eyes. She is thinking about it. Gregorio looked at her daughter. And the words of a true organic intellectual just came flowing from his mind. “Marriage is like war. You do not give up. You keep on fighting and sacrificing. If you cannot change him, then you just change enough of yourself to keep the marriage and the love without losing yourself totally.” Indeed, words of a man made wise by fighting life not only as a guerrilla fighter but as a farmer.
Alejandro motioned his grandfather for more fried bananas. Seeing this, she marveled at the sight of his son eating with his bare finger, with muddied feet and pants wet from frolicking in the stream. She told his father that she is afraid she failed in producing children who can take down the Contrada dynasty. That it is only this particular son, in her mind, who may have the predisposition to be a Tercero.
“Don’t worry too much. One would be enough. And I can see that he may be just one of the eight, but his voice will be the loudest.”
And with his wisdom, he admonished her to go back to her husband and save him from himself, and his family.
Little did they know that Alejandro, this boy now munching on fried bananas, would indeed be a powerful voice of change, not only for the Contradas of Buhi, but for the entire country.
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