The Legend of Manong Iking
by Virginia Jaranilla
Toto, I have something to tell you. A long time ago, there lived a family called the Jaranillas. They were a wealthy, landed family in Iloilo. At that time, in the early 19th century, Iloilo was the center of all trade in the Visayas, and ships from Manila would stop there on their way to Mindanao, and ships from Mindanao would stop there also. It was a hustling, bustling metropolis, and the families there lived large.
Then, one day, they heard news of a Frenchman, a Mr. Gaston, who left for the island of Negros to start a sugar plantation. At first everyone thought he was ridiculous: Negros was a wild, untamed island with little inhabitants, save for the dark-skinned pygmies for which the island got its name. But soon news spread about Gaston's prosperity in the new land, and all the wealthy families from Iloilo hurried to join him in Negros.
(and that is how Iloilo no longer came to be a wealthy port, Toto, because all the wealthy people went to Negros)
Among these were us, the Jaranillas, who settled in a small town called Silay, and developed their own hacienda. They found the volcanic soil to be good and fertile, blessed by the Mount Kanlaon. Generations passed, and their hacienda got bigger and bigger, and we got wealthier and wealthier.
By the time of Manong Iking (my eldest brother, Toto), the hacienda had grown to 10 hectares. He had become a brilliant statesman in their small town. We used to live close to the mercado, the market, but I urged him, Toto, to build a bigger house and move there. I had just left the convent then. I was the youngest in our family of 10. I told him to build a house with 3 floors. The third would be a chapel, and I would live there for the rest of my life, and start a convent there.
Manong Iking said, "All in due time", but he built a new house anyway, the daku balay, the big house. And that is where we lived and received people.
And how many people came every day! My Manong Iking was a good man, a politician. He would listen to the troubles of the townspeople, and he would give sugar and rice and money as freely as one would give a flower. And always I sat on his right side, attending to him.
His workers in the hacienda were also taken care of. He paid them regularly and even hired a priest to give mass to them in the Hacienda. And during Sunday, he forbade his workers to work.
And so it came to be that my Manong Iking became the most well-loved person in the whole Silay. I am not surprised that some people were envious of him.
Sadly, he died. And when he died, all of Silay mourned. The funeral procession was so long, that when the coffin had reached the cemetery already, the tail end of the procession was still at the Church. It's hard to believe, Toto, but it's true. My Manong Iking was indeed a good man. When he had died, Toto, the whole hacienda went to your Lola Lourdes, your mama's mother. She was still in high school then. We hired an accountant to record all our assets and put it all to paper.
But this accountant was devious, and right from the moment he saw Manang Lourdes, he wanted her. So he told Manang Lourdes that they should start a business to make even more money, and all she had to do was sign. Your Lola Lourdes, she was only in High school then, and she did not know anything about contracts, and did not bother to read it, poor her. So when she signed that evil man's contract, she actually gave away all of the hacienda to him, all 10 hectares!
The accountant divided the land and sold all of it, then came back to Manang Lourdes. He said, "I am going to America, you should come with me, I'll marry you and take care of you." Your Lola Lourdes rightly said no.
And that is how our family came to be butchers, instead of wealthy landowners.
From there, all went downhill. Although we still had a house and a thriving business, it wasn't quite so much like before. In my despondency I decided to leave for America, to look for that accountant. But I never saw him again, so I just decided to settle here in Chicago.
Back home, your mother's family did not do too well. Two of her brothers became drug addicts. One of her sisters married a playboy, who used to own 7 trucks that drive sugar back and forth from the plantations to the markets. That was big business! But he took all the money and spent on his mistress instead.
How was the Daku Balay when you last went there, Toto? Oh, I should have known, by now it's already broken down and in need of repairs everywhere. How sad.
I used to want to go back home, and become a politican in Silay. It's in my blood, Toto. But... I've left all of that already...
Keep in touch with your relatives in Silay, okay, Toto? Tell me how they are. I don't write letters to them anymore... Because everytime I write, I just start crying...
Toto, I have something to tell you. A long time ago, there lived a family called the Jaranillas. They were a wealthy, landed family in Iloilo. At that time, in the early 19th century, Iloilo was the center of all trade in the Visayas, and ships from Manila would stop there on their way to Mindanao, and ships from Mindanao would stop there also. It was a hustling, bustling metropolis, and the families there lived large.
Then, one day, they heard news of a Frenchman, a Mr. Gaston, who left for the island of Negros to start a sugar plantation. At first everyone thought he was ridiculous: Negros was a wild, untamed island with little inhabitants, save for the dark-skinned pygmies for which the island got its name. But soon news spread about Gaston's prosperity in the new land, and all the wealthy families from Iloilo hurried to join him in Negros.
(and that is how Iloilo no longer came to be a wealthy port, Toto, because all the wealthy people went to Negros)
Among these were us, the Jaranillas, who settled in a small town called Silay, and developed their own hacienda. They found the volcanic soil to be good and fertile, blessed by the Mount Kanlaon. Generations passed, and their hacienda got bigger and bigger, and we got wealthier and wealthier.
By the time of Manong Iking (my eldest brother, Toto), the hacienda had grown to 10 hectares. He had become a brilliant statesman in their small town. We used to live close to the mercado, the market, but I urged him, Toto, to build a bigger house and move there. I had just left the convent then. I was the youngest in our family of 10. I told him to build a house with 3 floors. The third would be a chapel, and I would live there for the rest of my life, and start a convent there.
Manong Iking said, "All in due time", but he built a new house anyway, the daku balay, the big house. And that is where we lived and received people.
And how many people came every day! My Manong Iking was a good man, a politician. He would listen to the troubles of the townspeople, and he would give sugar and rice and money as freely as one would give a flower. And always I sat on his right side, attending to him.
His workers in the hacienda were also taken care of. He paid them regularly and even hired a priest to give mass to them in the Hacienda. And during Sunday, he forbade his workers to work.
And so it came to be that my Manong Iking became the most well-loved person in the whole Silay. I am not surprised that some people were envious of him.
Sadly, he died. And when he died, all of Silay mourned. The funeral procession was so long, that when the coffin had reached the cemetery already, the tail end of the procession was still at the Church. It's hard to believe, Toto, but it's true. My Manong Iking was indeed a good man. When he had died, Toto, the whole hacienda went to your Lola Lourdes, your mama's mother. She was still in high school then. We hired an accountant to record all our assets and put it all to paper.
But this accountant was devious, and right from the moment he saw Manang Lourdes, he wanted her. So he told Manang Lourdes that they should start a business to make even more money, and all she had to do was sign. Your Lola Lourdes, she was only in High school then, and she did not know anything about contracts, and did not bother to read it, poor her. So when she signed that evil man's contract, she actually gave away all of the hacienda to him, all 10 hectares!
The accountant divided the land and sold all of it, then came back to Manang Lourdes. He said, "I am going to America, you should come with me, I'll marry you and take care of you." Your Lola Lourdes rightly said no.
And that is how our family came to be butchers, instead of wealthy landowners.
From there, all went downhill. Although we still had a house and a thriving business, it wasn't quite so much like before. In my despondency I decided to leave for America, to look for that accountant. But I never saw him again, so I just decided to settle here in Chicago.
Back home, your mother's family did not do too well. Two of her brothers became drug addicts. One of her sisters married a playboy, who used to own 7 trucks that drive sugar back and forth from the plantations to the markets. That was big business! But he took all the money and spent on his mistress instead.
How was the Daku Balay when you last went there, Toto? Oh, I should have known, by now it's already broken down and in need of repairs everywhere. How sad.
I used to want to go back home, and become a politican in Silay. It's in my blood, Toto. But... I've left all of that already...
Keep in touch with your relatives in Silay, okay, Toto? Tell me how they are. I don't write letters to them anymore... Because everytime I write, I just start crying...