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HOW MY BROTHER LEON BROUGHT HOME A WIFE
Manuel E. Arguilla
LA UNION, PHILIPPINES:
The Province of La Union (literally: The Union), is a province of the Philippines located in the Ilocos Region or Region 1 in Luzon, whose capital is San Fernando City and borders Ilocos Sur to the north, Benguet to the east, and Pangasinan to the south, to the west of La Union is the South China Sea.
La Unión, in Spanish, was formed in 1850 when the Spanish colonial government of Governor-General Antonio Maria Blanco merged the southern towns of Ilocos Sur province, the northern towns of Pangasinan, and the western towns of Benguet to the east.
Economy. The economy is diversified with service, manufacturing, and agricultural industries spread throughout the province. The Port of San Fernando operates as an increasingly active shipping point, and the former American airbase, Wallace Air Station, having been converted into a business and industrial area, helps to facilitate such commercial activity.
Tourists often flock to the beaches of Bauang, or to the more secluded ones further north for snorkelling, surfing or other water sports; the more northerly beaches near San Juan specifically cater to both local surfers as well as portions of the world surfing circuit.
People and Culture. Ninety-three percent of the population is Ilocano and is overwhelmingly Roman Catholic. There are communities of Pangasinense in the south, Igorots in the Cordillera foothills, and Tagalog people in the city. La Union is highly literate, with San Fernando City as the administrative, educational, and financial center of the region.
Throughout the entire 152 year-history of La Union, several sons and daughters have contributed to the evolving national history. Some of these names have a familiar ring to us today: Diego Silang, patriot and hero; Camilo Oasis, senator and educator; Francisco Ortega, Speaker pro-tempore; Alejo Mabanag, senator; Mariano Madriaga and Enrique Sobrepeña, religious leaders; Manuel Arguilla, author; Angel Anden, journalist and academician; Nicolas Zafra, historian and educator; Laureana Novicio - Luna, mother of the illustrious Luna brothers; Magnolia Antonino, senator and businesswoman, Manuel Cases, parliamentarian; Epifanio Castillejos, bureaucraft;, Joaquin Ortega, lawyer
and assemblyman; Jose Aspiras, congressman and ex- secretary of tourism; Juvenal Guerrero, ex-justice of the Supreme Court; Victor F. Ortega, congressman and constitutional convention delegate and now governor; Fortunato Abat, soldier diplomat; Arteimio Tadiar, an officer and a gentlemen; Sixto Domondon, jurist; Melchor P Aquino, noted ambassador and columnist, Justo O. Orros, Jr. Ambassador to Mexico.
These are just few of those who have contributed unselfishly through their individual skills, talents and leadership, towards La Union's development and that of the nation. For indeed, La Union's richest resources are its people. It is through them that the province contributed to the unity, progress and prosperity of the nation.
Attractions. Shrine of Our Lady of Charity , Agoo, , Agoo-Damortis National Seashore , Agoo, Museo Iloko, Agoo, , Bauang Beach , Bauang, San Francisco - Canaoay - Pagudpud Beach, City of San Fernando, La Union Botanical Garden , City of San Fernando, Heroes Hill, City of San Fernando, Macho Temple , City of San Fernando, Marcos Park, Pugo, Pindangan Ruins, City of San Fernando, Shrine of Lady Namacpacan, Luna, San Juan Beach , San Juan, Tomb of the Unknown soldier, City San Fernando, Moro Watch Tower, Luna, Welcome Arc, Rosario, Gateway to Ilocandia , Baguio City and Pangasinan
Bauang, La Union. Bauang, La Union is the hometown of Manuel E. Arguilla and Bauang originated from “baoang” (garlic, but Spaniards changed the letter “o” to “u”). The word “buang” also means “river split into two” flowing into the sea (a Delta divides Bauang River into two).
In 1590, Bauang started as a settlement. Spanish Friar Agustin Mino was appointed its first minister. In 1765, it became a town and formed part of Pangasinan. Don Francisco delos Reyes sat as its first gobernadorcillo. With the crreation of La Union in 1850, Bauang became one of its twelve towns.
Like other towns in the province, Bauang also had its share in the devastating invasions of Moro pirates (“tirong”) made series of invasions in Bauang, hence, the rise of watchtowers (baluarte, by the Gobernadorcillo Don Juan Mallare). In 1890, Bauang
“revolucionarios” led by Remigio Patacsil and Mauro Ortiz ousted the Spanish colonizers (“cazadores” or Spanish soldiers) and the “revolucionarios” (Filipinos).
In 1913, however, Bauang barrios were given to San Fernando: Pagudpud, Pagdalagan, Sevilla, Bungro, Tanquigan and Sibuan-Otong. In the Japanese war, heroes of Baunag fought in its beaches, in Lingayen Gulf, Bataan and Corregidor (as USAFIP-NL). The Japanese executed Manuel Arguilla, poet and journalist, including Major Alberto O. Fenit (USAFFE) and Bauang Mayor
Ambrosio Rimando. A town plaza monument today honors these Bauang heroes.
Bauang is known as the Beach Capital of the Philippines (1970, the shorelines of Baccuit Sur to Pagdalagan Sur). Bauang has a treasure: Research Reef (a dive spot for local and foreign scuba divers).
Bauang regularly hosts the South China Sea Regatta (led by the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club.)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (Manuel E. Arguilla):
Manuel E. Arguilla (1911 – 1944) was born on June 17, 1911, an Ilocano writer in English, patriot, and martyr, from Nagrebcan, Bauang, La Union, who used the local color in his writings. Because he spent much of his childhood in the province, his portrayal of Ilocano life is unsurpassed. He is the son of Crisanto Arguilla, a farmer, and Margarita Estabillo, a potter. Their mediocre living was not a hindrance for Manuel to attain his dreams especially in literature.
When an author uses local colors in certain writings, he or she brings to life the language that appeals to the surrounding of a particular place and time and uses the sights and sounds of a particular people.
He is known for his widely anthologized short story “How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife,” the main story in the collection “How My Brother Leon Brought Home a Wife and Other Short Stories” which won first prize in the Commonwealth Literary Contest in
His stories "Midsummer" and "Heat" was published in the United States by the Prairie Schooner.
Most of Arguilla's stories depict scenes in Barrio Nagrebcan, Bauang, La Union where he was born. His bond with his birthplace, forged by his
dealings with the peasant folk of Ilocos, remained strong even after he moved to Manila where he studied at the University of the Philippines where he finished BS Education in 1933 and where he became a member and later the president of the U.P. Writer's Club and editor of the university's Literary Apprentice.
He married Lydia Villanueva, another talented writer in English, and they lived in Ermita, Manila. Here, F. Sionil José, another seminal Filipino writer in English, recalls often seeing him in the National Library, which was then in the basement of what is now the National Museum. “You couldn't miss him", Jose describes Arguilla, "because he had this black patch on his cheek, a birthmark or an overgrown mole. He was writing then those famous short stories and essays which I admired.”
He became a creative writing teacher at the University of Manila and later worked at the Bureau of Public Welfare as managing editor of the bureau's publication Welfare Advocate until 1943. He was later appointed to the Board of Censors. He secretly organized a guerrilla intelligence unit against the Japanese.
In October 1944, he was captured, tortured and executed by the Japanese army at Fort Santiago.
CHARACTERS:
BALDO. He is the one who narrated the story and the brother of Leon. LEON. He is the one who brought home a wife, responsible, caring, gentle, and a loving husband. MARIA. She was born in the city, the wife of Leon, supportive, creative and a loving wife. FATHER. The one who instructed Baldo on what he will do while he is on the road together with Leon and Maria. He made an ingenious way to find out if Maria is really worthy to live in a rural place. LABANG. The hardworking cow.
“Why does he make that sound?” she asked. “I have never heard the like of it.”
“There is not another like it,” my brother Leon said. “I have yet to hear another bull call like Labang. In all the world there is no other bull like him.”
She was smiling at him, and I stopped in the act of tying the sinta across Labang’s neck to the opposite end of the yoke, because her teeth were very white, her eyes were so full of laughter, and there was a small dimple high up on her right cheek.
“If you continue to talk about him like that, either ii shall fall in love with him or become greatly jealous.”
My brother Leon laughed and she laughed and they looked at each other and it seemed to me there was a world of laughter between them and in them.
I climbed into the cart over the wheel and Labang would have bolted for he was always like that, but I kept a firm hold on his rope. He was restless and would not stand still, so that my brother Leon had to say “Labang” several times. When he was quiet again, my brother Leon lifted the trunks into the cart, placing the smaller on top.
She looked down once at her high-heeled shoes, the she gave her left hand to my brother Leon, placed a foot on the hub of the wheel, and in one breath, she had swung up into the cart. Oh, the fragrance of her! But Labang was fairly dancing with impatience and it was all I could do to keep him from running away.
“Give me the rope, Baldo,” my brother said. “Maria, sit down on the hay and hold on to anything.” Then he put a foot on the left shaft and that instant, Labang leaped forward. My brother Leon laughed as he drew himself up to the top of the side of the cart and made the slack of the rope hiss about the back of Labang. The wind whistled against my cheeks and the rattling of the wheels on the pebbles of the road echoed in my ears.
She sat up straight on the bottom of the cart, legs bent together to one side, her skirts spread over them so that only the toes and heels of her shoes were visible. Her eyes were on my brother Leon’s back; I saw the wind on her hair.
When Labang slowed down, my brother Leon handed me the rope. I knelt on the straw inside the cart
and pulled on the rope until Labang was merely shuffling along, then I made him turn around.
“What is it to you have forgotten now, Baldo?” my brother Leon said.
I did not say anything but stickled with my finger the rump of Labang; and away we went – back to where I had unhitched and waited for them. The sun had sunk and down from the wooden sides of the Katayaghan Hills, shadows stealing into the fields. High up overhead the sky burned with many slow tires.
When I sat Labang down the deep cut that would bring us down to the dry bed of the Waig which could be used as a path to our place during the dry season, my brother Leon laid a hand on my shoulder and said sternly: “Who told you to drive through the fields tonight?”
His hand was heavy on my shoulder, but I did not look back at him or utter a word until we were on the rocky bottom of the Waig.
“Baldo, you fool, answer me before I lay the rope of Labang on you. Why did you follow the Waig instead of Carmino Real?” His fingers bit into my shoulders.
“Father, he told me to follow the Waig tonight, Manong .”
Swiftly, his hand fell away from my shoulder, and without a word, he reached out for the rope of Labang. Then my brother Leon laughed, and he sat back, and laughing still, he said:
“And I supposed Father also told you to hitch Labang to the cart and meet us with him instead of with Castano and the calesa ?”
Without waiting for me to answer, he turned to her and said, “Maria, why do you think Father would do that now?” He laughed and added. “Have you ever seen so many stars before?”
I looked back and they were sitting side by side, leaning against the trunks, hands clasped across knees. Seemingly but a man’s height above the tops of the steep banks of the Waig, hung the stars. But in the deep gorge, the shadows had fallen heavily and even Labang’s white coat was merely a dim grayish blur. Crickets chirped from their homes in the cracks in the banks. The thick unpleasant smell of dangla bushes and cooling sun- heted Earth mingled with the clean, sharp scent of arrais
roots exposed to the night air and of the hay inside the cart.
“Look, Noel, yonder is our star!” Deep surprise and gladness were in her voice. Very low in the west, almost touching the ragged edge of the bank, was the star, the biggest and brightest in the sky.
“I have been looking at,” my brother Leon said. “Do you remember how I would tell you that when you want to see stars you must come to Nagrebcan?”
“Yes, Noel,” she said. “Look at it,” she murmured, half to herself. “It is so many times bigger and brighter than it was at Ermita beach.”
“The air here is clean, free of dust and smoke.”
“So it is, Noel,” she said, drawing a long breath.
“Making fun of me, Maria?”
She laughed then and they laughed together and she took my brother Leon’s hand and put it against her face.
I stopped Labang, climbed down and lighted the lantern that hung from the cart between the wheels.
“Good boy, Baldo,” my brother Leon said as I climbed back into the cart, and my heart sang.
Now, the shadows took fright and did not crowd so near. Clumps of andadasi and arrais flashed into view and quickly disappeared as we passed by. Ahead the elongated shadow of Labang bobbed up and down and swayed drunkenly from side to side, for the lantern rocked jerkily with the cart.
“Have we far to go yet, Noel?” she asked.
“Ask Baldo,” my brother Leon said, “we have been neglecting him.”
“I am asking you, Baldo,” she said.
Without looking back, I answered, picking my words slowly:
“Soon, we will get out of the Waig and pass into the fields. After the fields is home – Manang .”
“So near already.”
I did not say anything more, because I did not know what to make of the tone of her voice as she said her last words. All the laughter has seemed to have gone out of her. I waited for my brother Leon to say something, but he was not saying anything. Suddenly, he broke out into song and the song was “Sky Sown with Stars” – the same that he and Father sang when we cut hay in the fields of nights, before he went away to study. He must have taught her the song because she joined him, and her voice flowed into his like a gentle stream, meeting a stronger one. And each time the wheels encountered a big rock, her voice would catch in her throat, but my brother Leon would sing on, until laughing softly, she would join him again.
Then we were climbing out into the fields and through the spokes of the wheels, the light of the lantern mocked the shadows. Labang quickened his steps. The jolting became more frequent and painful as we crossed the low dikes.
“But it was so very wide here,” she said. The light of the stars broke and scattered the darkness so that one could see far on every side, though indistinctly.
“You miss the houses, and the cars, and the people, and the noise, don’t you?” my brother Leon stopped singing.
“Yes, but in a different way. I am glad they are not here.”
With difficulty, I turned Labang to the left, for he wanted to go straight on. He was breathing hard, but I knew he was more thirsty than tired. In a little while, we drove up the grassy side onto the Camino Real.
“You see,” my brother Leon was explaining, “the Camino Real curves around the foot of the Katayaghan Hills passes by our house. We drove through the fields, because – but I’ll be asking Father as soon as we get home.”
“Noel –” she said.
“Yes, Maria.”
“I am afraid. He may not like me.”
“Does that worry you still, Maria?” my brother Leon said, “From the way you talk, he might be an ogre for all the world. Except when his leg that was wounded in the Revolution is troubling him, Father is the mildest tempered, gentlest man I know.”
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Francisca B. De La Cruz, et al. Exploring Life Through Filipino Literature. Quezon City, 2004.
José, Francisco Sionil (2005), Alejandro Padilla, ed., Termites in the Sala, Heroes in the Attic: Why We Are Poor, Ermita, Manila: Solidaridad Publishing House, ISBN 971-8845-41-0.
José, Francisco Sionil (December 8, 2003), "A Sense of Time and Place", Philippine Graphic.
Jun Elias. "Iloko La Union's official language". The Philippine Star.
Maysa a Ruknoy ken ni Manuel E. Arguilla, RIMAT Magazine, Quezon City, October 2004.
Torrevillas, Domini M. (July 5, 2012). “Banana magnate passes away”. From the Stands.
