All the writers are from two central Philippine islands: Negros (yes, that IS the name of one of the islands, thank you Spanish colonizers who named it after the locals, who were “Negros” — dark-skinned) and Siquijor.
Buglas was the pre-Spanish name for Negros.
It is edited by writers from the Dumaguete Writers Workshop.
Self’s story Dumaguete is in it, which renders her speechless. Just speechless!
Sometime in this literary magazine’s infancy, the editor contacted self (through this blog) and solicited a short story.
The issue was 1.2
Now, the magazine is in its sixth year.
The story self submitted to them was “Dumaguete.” Here’s an excerpt:
His mother had taken him to the green campus of Silliman University, and there, among the tall, old acacia trees, they’d stumbled across a small museum that held shells and various voodoo paraphernalia from the small island just offshore, Siquijor. From the city’s seaside promenade, one could just discern the faint outline of the island. All day, outriggers plied the distance between the large and small island, ferrying shell vendours and curious tourists to and fro. Carlos had heard numerous stories of this fabled place, but his mother showed no inclination to go there.
Self loves the current WordPress Photo Challenge: HUMANITY. As it turned out, almost everything she’s posted on this theme so far are photos she took in the Philippines.
Siquijor is an island off Dumaguete, in the province of Negros Oriental.
Its allure has always been powerfully mysterious, at least to self. It’s rather a large island, with several well-populated towns. But it seems a world apart. The people of Siquijor may be poor, but they don’t appear desperate. The island is clean, and tourists don’t seem to be coming in droves, thank God.
She’s visited the island a couple of times, the last time in 2012. It’s a short ferry ride from Dumaguete.
From the WordPress Daily Post Photo Challenge on this week’s theme, WINDOWS: “. . . a window can reveal different things.”
Oh, yes! Can it ever! For one thing, depending on where the light falls, a window can illuminate an interior in very dramatic fashion. That’s why self loves windows so much. She’ll be posting a lot this week, just because she has so many shots of windows.
These photographs were all taken in her Dear Departed Dad’s home province of Negros Occidental, in the central Philippines.
Funny: Upon arrival at Siquijor, they have you fill in a form that asks for your age. Self decided to take 10 years off. When she scanned the other names on the list, she was still by far the oldest. BWAH. HA. HAAAA!
Self has decided that none of her postaday posts this week are really illustrative of the theme “Foreshadow.”
The term “Foreshadow” is so tricky. It’s about impending xxxxx ?
Therefore, shouldn’t her photographs have an element of the portentous?
So, here she goes again, posting another set of pictures, while trying to keep the word “ominous” foremost in her mind:
A retired Colonel had the Scripture on the wall of his front yard in Siquijor. He was a jolly man. But on his right upper arm was a tattoo consisting of three dots — only prison guards have those. And prisons, we all know, are nasty places.