Over the weekend, Hope gave me the Spanish versions of José Rizal´s Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo. They were distributed during Instituto Cervantes Manila’s Día del Libro. I was in Iloilo at the time of the event, but it pays to have friends who are willing to wait in line for hours to secure extra copies for me. Thank you! The shirts also look great!

José Rizal introduced me to the vibrant and liberating world of reading.

When I was in grade school, I knew José Rizal as the ultimate Filipino hero and the author of masterpieces Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo. It was not until I was 13, in my freshman year in the high school for the nerds when I received a paperback copy of Noli Me Tangere translated into Tagalog by Guzmán-Laksamana-Guzmán. The book had red cover and I was tasked to wrap it neatly with plastic. I was not able to wrap the book neatly with plastic, but it sure did change impressionable young adult me.

Immediately after opening the book, I knew that I would finish it long before the two quarters allotted to discuss it commence.

Noli Me Tangere transported me to the world when the Catholic church and Spain had so much power in the Philippines and over its people. I made the acquaintances of Crisóstomo Ibarra and María Clara, the epitome of breeding, education, beauty, and wealth, Capitán Tiago and Padre Dámaso, the two fathers who doted on their daughter the same way but treated her mother in polar opposite fashions. Basilio and Crispín, the brothers whose piteous situation made me cry and angry at the same time, and Tasio, the intellectual who was too advanced for his time. I was fond of the father figure Guevarra and my jaw dropped to the floor in suspended disbelief when I read the parts that involved Doña Victorina.

However, I did not know that along the way, I would meet my first ever loveteam to idolize, Elías and Salomé. I thought I would cheer for Crisóstomo and María Clara, the obvious choice for Spanish era Ken and Barbie, but I found that all my happiness and hope depended on Elías and Salomé. In the lone short chapter where they both appeared, I felt their genuine love for each other. But it was not to be consumated because Elías loved the Philippines too much and found in Crisóstomo all the happiness and hope I pinned on him. Thirteen year old me begged him to leave Laguna and travel with Salomé to Mindoro where they could live in peaceful existence, but he chose to “guide” the idealistic-bordering-on-the-idiotic Crisóstomo. I knew about his controversial and criminal-laden family history, but Elías remains to be my favorite Noli Me Tangere character.

I was scandalized when I found out that friar Dámaso raped Doña Pía and engendered María Clara. I was despondent when I read the parts of Sisa, the perfect homemaker with a gambler for a husband. I understood why she became crazy (10-year old me played “Sisa” in the talent portion for Miss Girl Scout in my school), and I was crestfallen when Crispín died. I was appalled by the creepy behavior of Padre Salví towards María Clara, but I was also like, “he was drooling when he saw the ankle (?) of women?”.

I spent many nights in my dormitory room poring over Rizal’s novel, memorizing names and obscure Tagalog words and their meanings, and willing the Filipino characters to revolt against the friars and give them a dose of their own medicine. In the last half of my freshman year, I got to know the characters well enough to summarize the chapters for my classmates without the aid of anything and without batting an eyelash or breaking a sweat. My studiousness gave me a 1.25 grade in Filipino (which started my journey towards a Best in Filipino award on graduation day).

When I reached the end of the novel and the culmination of our school-year, I was despondent that my favorite character died. I thought that his life was more important than Crisóstomo’s and I wanted the latter to honor his sacrifice and revenge his death. I was also in a towering rage at the fates of the characters:

• Sisa passed away after running mad
• Capitán Tiago became an opium addict
• like her mother, María Clara was raped by the demented Padre Salví
• Elías breathed his last without seeing the light at the end of the tunnel

Yet, I was also hopeful that in the sequel, El Filibusterismo, my lust for recrimination would be satisfied.

And, I became a decent reader after this. I read the newspaper from cover to cover (except the business section, 13-year old me was meh on money) and all the English and Filipino books I could find in our library’s scant collection (majority of the reading materials were related to Science and Math. I realized I went to the wrong school!).

Adult me do not read as much as teenager me. Presently, it takes me weeks to finish one book. I am currently reading George RR Martin’s Fire and Blood. It bores the hell out of me, but I have trudged through 300+ pages of this Targaryen-centric piece. I think I will just (wo)man up and spend a couple of weekends to read the remaining 400+ pages. Hahaha.

Stray Observations:

– I still remember the contentious sitting arrangement of the guests in the house party of Capitán Tiago. Also, I did not know that the body parts of a chicken would be so controversial.

– I remember salivating at the description of the meal lovingly prepared by Sisa for her sons, which his good-for-nothing husband devoured in seconds.

– Trifling with the opposite sex during Rizal time would have been so much fun.

– I have not met anyone close to Doña Victorina’s personality, but many have come so painfully close.

– Why was Ibarra overly trusting? OMG.

– They should feed Padre Salví to the dogs.

– Capitán Tiago was the most entertaining character.

– That church with closed doors would have been hell on earth. Literally and figuratively.