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Windows to the Villahanon’s Soul 

1

2 Windows to the Villahanon’s Soul 

Dedication 

In memory of my father 

Ignacio Jumadiao-Camilon 

a Leyteño with a Villahanon heart, 

who taught me to believe in the potential of Villareal for progress 

and in the innate gift of every Villahanon to work 

together for a common cause 

and to my fellow Villahanons 

who have kept the hope and selflessly paid forward.

Table of Contents 

Prologue p.5 

Ano It Villa Ha Akon pp.6-7 

Simplicio Solis 

I Love Villa! pp.9-10 

Pureza E. Amatosa 

Villareal: The Land of My Birth pp.12-13 

(A Tribute) Quintina Gelera-Cabuenos 

Public Service, the Villahanon Way pp.15-17 

City Prosecutor Ruperto Bardaje Golong 

Golden Memories of My School pp.18-19 

Gertrudes Seludo Llarenas-Ragub 

The Villa In My Mind pp.20-21 

Maricon Gelera Latoja 

Villahanons in the Land of the Midnight Sun pp.22-26 

Ruben Gerardo 

Villa-Half a Century and More of Remembrances pp.27-41 

Cesar Torres 

Villareal, Forever My Home pp.44-45 

Terry S. Wickstrom 


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Villahanons in Canada: Meeting the Challenges in Their Adopted Country pp.46-49 

Dr. Quirino Agote Ragub 

A Glimpse of My Hometown pp.50-53 

Marlon Clint Solis-Camilon 

Dream Catching in Villareal pp.54-57 

Marivel Camilon-Sacendoncillo 

Acknowledgement 

4 Windows to the Villahanon’s Soul

Prologue 

I saw the first rays of the sun in Tunga, Leyte and not in 

Villareal. Yet Villa, as we fondly call our hometown, is 

home to me. It was here where I grew up and was 

nurtured by people who loved me beyond words. My heart 

is a Villahanon in every way. After a long and at times 

arduous journey, I find myself longing for the rest and 

comfort that only Villa can give, a longing for the very 

place and the people I call my own. 

A Window to the Villahanon’s Soul is a tribute to Villareal, a town in Samar I, and many others, 

call home. It also celebrates the spirit and values of those who trace their roots to Villa and 

with pride refer to themselves as Villahanons. 

This collection of poetry, prose and essays gives us an insight into the heart and mind of a 

diaspora of Villahanons, presenting a palette of their stories, reflections and experiences. It 

speaks of their love for their hometown and the values that are common to them- love for 

family, value for education, affinity with nature, a deep sense of community and an openness 

to share with each other. 

A Window to the Villahanon’s Soul also tells of heartwarming stories of the Villahanons’ 

capacity to seize opportunities for a common good, to endure and emerge victorious from 

difficult times and to revel in life’s blessings. It gives us a perspective of how the legacy of our 

ancestors provides us the motivation to embrace life and make the most of what it brings. 

Here are stories that testify to the steadfast, generous, vibrant and resilient spirit that 

is unmistakably Villahanon. May the lives shared in this book inspire every Villahanon 

and countless others to trace your own roots and take pride in where you come 

from. 

Marivel Gelera Camilon- Sacendoncillo 

“ The greatest glory in living lies not in never 

failing but rising every time we fall.” 

Nelson Mandela 


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ANO IT VILLA HA AKON 

Simplicio Solis 

May gin mamahal ko nga usa nga bungto 

Bungto Villareal nga natawhan ko 

Katundan han Samar an iya hinmotangan 

“Real village” ha English, matahum nga ngaran 

Igin paparayaw ko it Villa ha iyo 

May naturalisa nga kinaiya hine nga ak bungto 

May ada panayoran higluag nga taramnan 

Hiluag nga kadagatan hora hin kaisdaan. 

May ada kahagnaan nga it Villa ginpalibutan 

May mga hagna ha timogan ug dapit sinirangan 

May ada ha amihanan sugad man ha katundan 

Taramnan hiya hin mga homay kanan parag-uma kahuraan 

Ako naglalaum it Villa ma asenso 

Dire mapaorhi hit iba nga bungto 

Kay hi Mayor boy Latorre buhatan maduruto 

Buotan ug tangkud hit iya serbisyo. 


May ada mga bus para Catbalogan Tacloban 

May dako nga motorboat para kadagatan 

May ada ha Manila mga pansarakyan 

Kanan taga Villa gintatag-iyahan. 

Para ha Manila di kana magkokori 

Kay kada semana it ira biyahe 

Lunes ug Huybes, Miyerkoles ug Sabado 

Di ka na magkokori, barato pa it pasahi. 

Hingangandayan ko naman parte pag aradman 

May gobierno ug pribado, High School nga kakadtuan 

May Barangay High Schools kumpleto hin kagamitan 

Waray nagud iiliwon hit mga nag aaram. 

May mga produkto hin mga liburan 

Mga professionals nga mga bantugan 

Mga ahensiya han gobierno, pribado ginpangaptan 

Higtaas nga posisyon, hira gintaporan.

Idinadasig ko ine nga ak bungto 

Kay nagkakaurosa mga taghimongto 

Waray mga krimen pagperde hin tawo 

Kay an panuyo gudla bungto umasenso. 

Yana nga panahon it Villa tikadto 

Pag-gios, paguswag hin ka progresibo 

Hi Mayor Latorre may ada proyekto 

Bayanihan nga kalsada hiya’n nagmangulo. 

Ine nga kalsada tikadto ha Kasang-an 

Gin ngaranan ine “Kalsada Bayanihan” 

Mga taghimunghto pati baryo 

Gin buburubligan ine para la mahimo. 

Mga Villahanon ha iba nga nasyon 

Dagko nga kantidad an ira donasyon 

Kay ira panuyo kalsada humanon 

Para masayon na it at transportasyon. 

Bungto Villareal hi ikaw palaran 

An mga anak mo di ka ginpabay-an 

Ha mga kasakit pati kakurian 

Ngatanan burublig imo katalwasan. 

An naturalisa ug kinaiya han bungto hit Villa 

Puros ginpulsan in nga mga grasya 

Hatag han Makagarahum pati ni Santa Rosa 

Hiya man an amon Patrona ha Villa 

Kami nagdadayaw an mga Villahanon 

Kan Santa Rosa gugma ug bulig ha amon 

Kadam-an nga grasya amon nakarawat 

Salamat, Santa Rosa, Salamat! Salamat! 

The Author is a retired Head Teacher of the Bureau of Public Schools (now Department of 

Education) after 40 years of government service. After retirement, he ran for public office and 

won a seat in the Municipal Council, Villareal, Samar for three (3) consecutive terms (1992- 

2001). He is also a 4th Degree member of the Knights of columbus, Villareal Council 5847. 


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I Love Villa! 

Pureza E. Amatosa 

I love Villa, the title of the favorite song of the Villareal II Central Teachers’ Choir of 

which I am a member. Yes, I love Villa. Not only because it’s my hometown but 

because it’s where I spent the most precious moments of my life- my grade and high 

school days, my colorful married life and my successful career as a teacher. 

Villa has a unique geographical formation. It is divided into two parts; the higher level 

which we call Tayud and the lower level which is known as Hawud. There are four long 

concrete stairways as means of access going to the church and residential houses 

of Villahanons who chose to settle there. Thanks to our ancestors who made climbing 

up an easy task. 

We have no beautiful beaches like those in Palawan and Boracay but our townsfolk 

content themselves in having picnics in the wharf, Puro or Dukdukon just to have a 

cool and refreshing dive especially when tides are very high during summer. 

Villa stands out from the many places I had been to. Its people are very religious and 

peace-loving. It is also free from danger unlike in other places. Villa is a place where 

people have good hearts. They don’t harbor ill feelings except for a few who find it hard 

to forgive their political enemies. To Christians, there are no permanent enemies, only 

forgiveness after any conflict. Our most popular business is chika-chika (story telling) 

and tsismis (gossip) but nothing to worry because it does not do any harm. 

Life is not hard here in Villa as our place is rich in natural resources especially the 

seas. One time a foreigner came to our place and was surprised to see on our table 

big laid shrimps, crabs, lobsters, mud crab weighing more than a kilo, seashells, 

squid and a big fish cooked with sauce. He exclaimed, “This is a rich person’s diet!” 

As I reminisce the past, I could still feel the joy when my friends and I would go to the 

seashore to gather seashells. Our seas abound with seaweeds like lato and dahunan. 

During those times especially during low tides (masyado hin kahalapad han hubas) 

we have to wade a few meters away from the poblacion. When we arrived home there 

were already boiled potatoes, cassava or bananas waiting on the table to be eaten 

with the seashells. To us, this was already a satisfying meal with almost no expense 

at all. 


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In the past, our shores would teem with people young and old alike. At present, most of the young people 

don’t bother to go to the shores anymore. 

One admirable trait of the Villahanons is the value we give to education. Parents work hard to be able to 

send their children to school. Even families who have less in life try their best to send their children to college 

to earn a degree. Villareal is one of the towns that has the most number of professionals including priests. 

Seldom can you find a home without a teacher or a degree holder. Parents of Villahanon families believe that 

children are their stronghold when they grow old. Part of our tradition is for the eldest child to finish school and 

once she or he lands in a job, she/he sends a sibling to college, and the next child is expected to do the 

same. There is a succession of responsibility down to the youngest child. Most often unmarried children also 

send their nephews and nieces to school. Even grandparents help support the education of their grandchildren 

especially when their parents have more kids that they are incapable of sending to school. 

Villahanons love to celebrate birthdays, weddings, death anniversaries, and the feast of saints. I have nothing 

against our fondness for celebrations, lest I be misunderstood. But to us who are average income earners, it 

is wise to consider how we can refrain from lavish spending. Usually our savings for a number of days are 

spent just in one setting. Do you notice that our table is full of foods rich in cholesterol and carbohydrates like 

suman, iraid, puto, kutsinta, latik and other delicacies like torta, decana, curioso etc. Due to the abundance 

of seafood, and all kinds of carbohydrates, it’s not surprising why our people, young and old alike are sick 

with hypertension, arthritis and diabetes. . 

Hospitality is a beautiful trait which we should cultivate, cherish and be proud of. We Villahanons are known 

to be hospitable which makes us different from our neighboring towns. A cordial welcome, a simple meal and 

a warm bed are enough to make a visitor who has nowhere to go feel at home. 

Villahanons celebrate family reunions as well as rekindling friendships and fellowship. In these occasions 

lechon is the main menu. Whatever is the mode of the celebration, this serves as a catalyst of unity and 

harmony within the family and among Villahanons as well. For these, I love Villa and all it stands for. 

The Author is a retired elementary teacher who devoted the best part of her life in molding the youth of Villareal. Her 

zeal for touching lives has continued by way of showing the path to a good spiritual life through catholism. She is 

married to Bonifacio Amatosa, a retired employee of the Municipal Trial Court. 



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Villareal: The Land of My Birth 

(A Tribute) 

Quintina Gelera-Cabuenos 

For its rolling hills and verdant plains 

All through the years our food it sustains 

For its beautiful islands, rivers, beaches and streams 

Teeming with fishes, crabs, shells and shrimps. 

We also have lato and dahunan 

Seaweeds eaten best with rootcrops from the farm 

It abounds around the islands, beaches and palms. 

Best of all it can be told 

Villa has people with hearts of gold 

Hospitable, kind and respectful 

Extending helping hands to all who are in need 

To ease the sorrows and pains as much as they can give. 

Thank you Lord for your concern 

We praise You Lord, Holy be Your Name! 

Those who tasted failures and frustrations 

Behind them stand strong people of the town 

Holding hand to support them and share 

Troubles and sorrows because they care. 

If not for Villa, life wont be the same 

I wouldn’t surely reach the apex of my dreams 

And life today wouldn’t be free of troubles 

But because of Villa its contentment and leisure.

In my twilight years if you will ask me 

Where I will spend the rest of my days, 

No way, it’s still Villa I will prefer 

Sans riches and affluence it can claim 

But Villa has more to give than fame 

It offers an atmosphere of security 

Emotional stability and harmony with the Lord 

So I can proudly shout to say 

Villa is my home, a home sweet home, 

For here my heart is at rest. 

The author is a retired District Supervisor of Villareal and served as the First Lady of Villareal 

for 20 years. She is an epitome of genuine service to people. She is married to Former Mayor 

Augusto Cabueños, the longest serving Mayor of Villareal. 


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Public Service, the Villahanon Way 

City Prosecutor Ruperto Bardaje Golong 

“Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do, 

than by the ones you did do. So throw away the bowlines, Sail away from the safe harbors, 

Catch the trade winds in your sails, Explore, dream, discover-” 

Mark Twain 

These immortal lines from Mark Twain present a vivid picture of my life and ushered me to 

where I am now. After graduating at the top of our class at the Leyte Normal School, now the 

Leyte Normal University, with the degree of Bachelor of Science in Elementary Education 

(BSEED) in March 1971, I was invited to teach at the Sacred Heart School (English 

Department) and stayed thereat for three (3) years. The following year I taught at the Villareal 

Elementary School, particularly at Brgy. Lam-awan. 

After a year and a half of teaching in a barrio school, I reassessed my priorities and decided 

on a new career-path. I moved back to Tacloban City and joined the Commission on Population 

Regional Office VIII under the leadership of Leo Rama, Regional Director, as Supply Officer 

IV . While working at POPCOM, I decided to fulfill my childhood dream of becoming a lawyer. 

In June 1977, I enrolled at the Leyte Colleges, College of Law and completed a law degree, 

cum laude in March 1981. While studying to be a lawyer, I moved from POPCOM to the 

Ministry of Human Settlements as Project Officer II. After four years, I moved to the Regional 

Command 8, to take up a civilian employment as a Research Analyst. In November 1981, the 

same year I graduated from the College of Law, I took the Bar Exam and fortunately passed 

it. Immediately after I took my oath as a lawyer, I opened a law office in Tacloban City with the 

Dean Jose Cusi, Dean of the Leyte Colleges, College of Law as my partner. Law practice 

was not that lucrative at the start so I accepted a teaching job at the Leyte Colleges, College 

of Law where I was designated as Asst. Dean, College of Law. 

After the EDSA Revolution in 1986 the career service opened a lot of opportunities for lawyers 

in the country. Judges, Prosecutors and heads of government offices were asked to tender 

their courtesy resignations to pave the way for new appointees of the Aquino administration. 

I was among the first appointee as City Prosecutor of Ormoc City, an appointment made 

possible through the efforts of Cirilo “Roy” Montejo, then Civil Service Commissioner and 

later Congressman of the 1 st District of Leyte. In September 1991, when the position of City 

Prosecutor of Tacloban was vacated with the promotion of City Prosecutor Francisco Aurillo 


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Jr. as Regional State Prosecutor, I was appointed City Prosecutor of 

Tacloban City, a position I hold up to the present. 

To prepare myself for other job opportunities both in government and 

the private sector, I obtained a Master Degree in Public Management 

at the University of the Philippines, Tacloban College and a Ph. D. in 

Management at the International Academy of Management and 

Economics (IAME) in Makati City. 

My modest accomplishment in government service is a product of Divine 

intervention, persistence, hard work, good public relations and a lot of 

inspiration from my parents MR. & MRS. RUPERTO GOLONG, SR., 

my ever loving wife MRS. Daniela Kempis Golong, my children, Carl 

Jeffrey, Joanne (General Manager, SOMERSET Makati, an international 

chain of hotels) and Jason, my brother and sisters, my teachers, 

classmates at the Villareal Elementary School batch 1963 and at the 

Holy Name Academy High School batch 1967. Among my classmates 

who did very well are Susan Latorre Belez, Tito N. Geli, Jose B. 

Romano and Carol Conise Mendiola- all successful entrepreneurs based 

in Manila, Ramon Castillano, a trading mogul based at Villareal, Samar, 

Teddy Varela, a Senior Officer at GSIS, Manila, Oscar Mendoza a 

State Auditor assigned at the Post Office, Manila, Oscar Ricalde, a 

Mall Supervisor based in Guam, Milagros Isaac, a businesswoman 

based in the USA,Belen Enverzo Nagpacan, Corazon Fabilane 

Gilbuena, Ofelia Geli de los Reyes, Letecia Golong Araza, all Master 

Teachers of the Departmentof Education. 

I believe that whatever we have in this world are but fleeting fancies. 

But a good name will always stand the test of times. Allow me to share 

one of the guideposts in my life, the words of the famous poet Horacio 

Alger: 


By Horacio Alger 

I write my name upon the sand, 

And trusted it would stand for age; 

But soon, alas, the refluent sea, 

Had washed my feeble lines away. 

I carved my name upon the wood 

And after years returned again, 

I missed the shadow of the tree, 

That stretched of old upon the plain. 

To solid marble next my name, 

I gave as perpetual trust; 

An earthquake sent it to its base, 

And now it lies overlaid with dust. 

All these have failed- 

In wiser mood I turn and ask myself, 

What then, if I would have my name endure, 

I’ll write it in the hearts of men. 

If I Would Have My Name Endure, 

I’ll Write It In The Hearts of Men 

The author is Atty. Ruperto B. Golong, Jr., City Prosecutor of Tacloban City, a law professor, a management consultant 

and guest lecturer at the University of the Philippines-Tacloban College and Leyte Normal University. 


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It was my home away from home, my 

initiation to formal education. A nostalgic trip 

down memory lane, of wistful images of great 

years gone by – this is what it’s like to 

remember my days at Villareal Elementary 

School. 

Considered the primary university of Villareal, 

it has produced many notable and 

successful Villahanons. Its portals hold 

precious and unforgettable memories that 

remain in the hearts of its alumni. For the 

young Villahanons today who never had the 

privilege of witnessing the glory days of 

Villareal Elementary School, allow me to 

share some fond recollections. 

The School’s physical structure was different 

back then, for there were not a lot of buildings. 

There was the Azanza Building where most 

intermediate grades were located, the 

Gabaldon (concrete) Building, the Home 

Economics Building that housed a busy 

playground at recess time, the Shop 

Building, the old building near the acacia tree 

and a makeshift PTA building. I still recall 

that some classes were held in rented 

private homes within the community to make 

up for the lack of classrooms. 

The School’s main entrance was made of 

concrete and covered with climbing vines of 

garlic-scented violet flowers. The pathway 

from the main entrance to the Azanza 

building was unpaved, and most of the 

teachers were reluctant to wear their highheeled 

shoes for fear it might get stuck in 

the mud. To ease this problem, a pathwaycementing 

project was undertaken. We were 


Golden Memories of My School 

By Gertrudes Seludo Llarenas-Ragub 

mobilized to bring sand and gravel everyday when we come to school. There were even some 

afternoons when, instead of cutting the grass in our assigned section in the wide school 

plaza, our entire school population was mobilized to gather sand and gravel. A minimum 

number of three trips to gather sand and gravel was required and trips beyond that quota were 

rewarded with lavish praises or candy treats from our teachers. 

Our favorite spot for getting sand and gravel was the seashore just across the old Holy Name 

Academy. There was a time when Apoy Ninay Nunez, the old lady guarding that part of the 

seashore, would drive us away. In fear, we would all scamper in various directions, sometimes 

even leaving behind our baskets full of sand and gravel. There was no pantalan(wharf) that 

time, and the only house closest to the seashore was the that of ‘Tay Benok Castillano. That 

part of the seashore then was the nearest beach resort of Villa. During high tide months,

especially in May, young and old Villahanons would take a dip 

in the water to cool themselves off from the hot summer days. 

Announcement of early dismissals by the school principal never 

ceased to make us jump with joy! For the more adventurous 

pupils, this spare time was used to pick some guavas in nearby 

Kalubi-an, just behind the Azanza building; others would walk to 

Arado until they reach Manggarit, where there were more guavas 

to harvest. The pupils who stayed behind, on the other hand, 

would either play in the plaza or play jack stone using a marble 

ball in the shiny, cemented hallway of the concrete building. 

Whenever the school has guests, food preparations were done 

at the Home Economics Building by ‘Nay Meming (Clemencia 

Geli-Ricalde) and Tiya Choling (Melchora Dasmarinas-Realino). 

They would usually ask the help of some students, and the four 

inseparables-Zabeth Gelera, Elma Garcia, Eve Garcia and 

myself- were always hoping that Tiya Choling would choose to 

call on us for help. Sadly, she always selected other pupils. 

Disappointed but determined to help, the four of us would linger 

around the Home Economics Building. It was during these times 

that Mano Cadio (Leocadio Figueroa) would see us and send us 

to gather some firewood for roasting the pig. We knew that after the guests 

had eaten, ‘Nay Meming will surely spot us. True enough, she would almost 

always see us and invite us to have some of the leftovers. 

Villareal Elementary School had a wide plaza, which was usually used to 

host municipal and regional athletic meets. Preparations for hosting these 

meets would involve the whole school as well as the entire Villa community. 

In charge of the ground preparation was my father (Ponciano Dalwatan 

Llarenas) and ‘Tiyo Tonying (Antonino Varela, Sr.). Pupils were made to 

bring woven lara (coconut leaves) and bamboos to be made into temporary 

kitchens and bathrooms. Teachers were made to bring beds and beddings 

for the visiting delegations. Villahanons eagerly awaited these athletic events 

as delegations from Marabut, Basey 1, Basey 2, Sta. Rita and the host 

delegations from Villa compete in what was usually a weeklong sports 

extravaganza. The event would open with a grand parade followed by a 

welcome dance in the evening for the teachers and heads of delegation. The 

event was meant not only to showcase the athletic prowess of the competing 

delegations, but also to feature their academic and artistic talents during 

the Literary Musical Night. 

School operettas were held annually. Preparations start as early as January 

and the directors and choreographers, ‘Nay Corazon (Corazon Dasmarinas- 

Seludo and Mana Tados (Teodosia Geli-Figueroa), selected lead casts and 

all other participants. Some of these unforgettable operettas were Cinderella, 

Sleeping Beauty, and Beauty and the Beast. The operettas were usually 

staged at the end of the school year and had become such a treat to 

Villahanons. 

This was the Villareal Elementary School of my childhood years. So much 

has changed since and many years have passed, yet the fond and golden 

memories linger, forever etched in my Villahanon heart and mind. 

The author is the daughter of the late Ponciano Dalwatan Llarenas and 

Socorro Dasmarinas Seludo-Llarenas. She was a former teacher at the 

Villareal Elementary School. She is married to a fellow Villahanon, Dr. 

Quirino Agote Ragub and they are now happily settled in Ottawa, 

Canada with their two sons, Bap and GR. 


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The Villa In My Mind 

By Maricon Gelera Latoja 

Mention Villa and this image unfailingly comes to mind: the 

concrete steps leading to the uphill area where the Church is 

located. At the age of three (3), those steps were my “stairway 

to heaven.” Climbing those steps was long, tiring and precarious, 

hence caution was necessary. A wrong slip and one could end 

up with a broken ankle or dislocated hip, worse, a head injury. 

So climb we did carefully. Little did I know then that those steps 

would make for a great metaphor: climbing it is similar to 

overcoming the challenges that accompany the desire for a 

successful life in the city, and the concrete of which it is made 

of is akin to the sense of attachment I will always have for Villa. 

I come from a generation of Villahanons who grew up for the 

most part in Manila – I breathed city air, fed on urban values and 

paid the price to ride the vehicle of modern dreams. Like most 

of my contemporaries, I carried the torch of hope my parents 

passed on to me. I was raised on the conviction that education 

is a passport to the good life, and that perseverance and honest 

work could actually lead you to a life far greater than what Villa 

could ever offer. I went to private schools that cost far too much 

than what my parents were making in terms of income. But my 

Nanay was adamant - to her, a good education was the only gift 

she could give me to ensure my future. The pressure to do well 

academically became a measure of the potential to succeed, 

so my school age years revolved only around two areas: home 

and school. Social interaction was limited to playing with friends, 

cousins and relatives who come over from Villa to spend a week 

or two in our house. 

Life in the metropolis is probably too seductive to resist that 

very few bother to think about the costs involved – the dislocation, 

the adjustments, and all the expenses that go with trying to 

have a life within the city’s modern standards. Manila life was 


very fast paced, but our family adjusted to the urban sense of time. And in the process of imbibing urban values, some things that were 

particular to being a Villahanon began to erode. In my case, these were language and family ties. Because our family is Manila-based, the first 

thing to slowly cave in was my facility with the Waray dialect. I grew up speaking mostly Tagalog at home, and English at school and at work. 

When I was young, Waray was spoken only by adults and was reserved for serious conversations. Although I can still perfectly understand 

Waray, I cannot write in it and my grasp of Waray words has diminished significantly through the years. I can still speak it (mostly just to my 

Nanay) but not with the same level of comfort and confidence as I had when I was a kid. Now, I can only stare in wonder while Lola Eca (my 

grandmother) and Ate Baby (my cousin) talk animatedly in Waray, complete with hand gestures, about the recent and juiciest topics involving 

our Villa-based relatives. It’s like a movie that I could only watch but no longer be a part of. 

The other major change exacted by city living was the ties with close family members and relatives, which got looser as most of them were 

herded to foreign lands. Economic and practical reasons had taken precedence over the need for proximity and family togetherness. Hence, 

my father chose New Jersey, Rodney chose Saudi Arabia, Regina chose United Arab Emirates, and other relatives chose either Norway, 

Canada or different parts of the United States. The irregular flow of emails, the infrequent rain of text messages, the once-in-a-blue-moon phone 

calls and the ten-minute Internet-based chats have now replaced birthdays and other special occasions celebrated in their company. 

Despite these changes, my affinity with Villa stays strong. Like those concrete steps, it remains intact even if it may have been weathered by 

time. I have been to a number of great places yet there are memories, texture and tastes, which are distinctly Villa. And I connect them all to 

persons close to my heart. I can tell from a plateful of samples which de caña, torta or moron is made by my Lola Eca. And there is 

absolutely no one who can rival the way I cherish the memory of my Lolo Ladis – my maternal grandfather, my first teacher, my Superman. 

Like other Villahanons, I dream of a prosperous Villa. I dream of a Villareal that can show the rest of the Philippines so much more than the 

concrete steps leading to the Church area – a place whose provincial road doesn’t turn into a swamp during the rainy months, a sensibly and 

efficiently governed municipality with rising household incomes, where trade is active and local industry activities are flourishing, a hometown 

with infrastructures in place to make it a worthy tourist destination. 

I am a Villahanon. Like my contemporaries, I am part of the giant answer to the challenge of developing my hometown, of adding to the number 

of concrete steps that will eventually and proudly put Villa on the Philippine map. I am a Villahanon and I will do my share in making Villa a place 

that will proudly be ready for the next generation. 

The author is the eldest daughter of Francisco Bermejo Latoja and Elizabeth Brillante Gelera. She is an assistant professorial lecturer at De 

La Salle Unviersity Manila, and a research writer-editor at DLSU Angelo King Institute. She is the favorite grandchild of (the late) Ladislao Gelera 

and is set to inherit all the recipes of her grandmother, Veronica Gelera. 


21

Villahanons in the Land 

of the Midnight Sun 

By Ruben Gerardo 

We would never have left our hometown had it not been for the sake of pursuing 

our education. The search for greener pastures led us to a far away place. We 

left behind our loved ones, use up all our meager savings in the hope that a new 

country will give us something more – better lives than what the country we 

came from can offer. 

And so goodbyes were said, tears shed, promises made, including the promise to never, never forget 

our beloved hometown of Villa. 

But the Promised Land was not to be. We had to deal with a different language, culture, environment 

and ways strange to the one we love and know by heart. We struggled hard to fit into a new culture, 

understand its nuances, and grow accustomed to the norms of its people. 

We searched for new friends and tried to win their respect. We struggled to establish ourselves and build new lives. As we adapted to the norms 

of our new country, we found ourselves in situations where we have to put our Filipino values aside. 

We charted our lives’ new directions. We got married and raised our children. The family responsibilities became our priority, and soon after, the 

promises we kept to ourselves are but a memory away. 

For us who ended up in the land of the Vikings, in the land of the midnight sun, life has been more comfortable, treated as we were to the Social 

Democratic way of life that offers an equal distribution of wealth among its constituents. Migrants have equal rights to education and health 

care. Working condition is in accordance with the existing labour law. And hunger caused by poverty is unheard of. 

Scandinavia, particularly Norway, is a beautiful country. It boasts of spectacular fauna and flora, especially during summertime when trees are 

green and flowers are in full bloom. This is also where you could experience the midnight sun and the northern light (aurora borealis). Travelling 

up to the north of Norway is amazing with its splendid mountains and landscapes. The Norwegian coast with its famous pink salmon also offers 

memorable summertime adventures. Autumn reflects the beauty of gold (autumn leaves), and winter makes this country a perfect area for 

skiing. 


It is not simple to acquire a management position in a Norwegian company. First, you must be fluent in the Norwegian language, both written 

and spoken. Secondly, a University degree acquired in Asia is not recognized in Norway. One needs one or two years at the Norwegian 

University to validate the acceptance of one’s education. It requires a lot of will and perseverance to attend night classes to learn the Norwegian 

language amidst holding a daytime job. 

In the early 1970s, there were only a handful of Filipinos in Norway. They were Pampaguenos, Ilocanos, Tagalogs and the Visayans, represented 

mostly by the Villahanons. Most of the Filipinos worked as seafarers and nurses. The population, however, increased in the later years when the 

families of early immigrants decided to move to Norway. By then, a Filipino association called Filipino Community in Norway was organised, 

funded by the Norwegian government to protect the rights and look after the welfare of Filipinos in Norway. 

Within a few years of existence of the Filipino Community in Norway, I was convinced to run for president of the organization. In spite being 

considered a dark horse from the line-up, I won by a landslide. I was blessed to have been President for three consecutive terms. When I was 

first elected, it was the time when issues of racial discrimination and mail-order-brides landed on the pages of Norwegian newspapers. In 

response to these issues, we ratified the Constitution of the Filipino Community in Norway, authored by the late Romulo Gerardo. At present, 

I am actively engaged in defending human rights through the Filipino Resource Center in Oslo, Norway. 

A fellow Villahanon in Scandinavia who made his mark in Denmark is Jorge Abainza who became the President of the Filipino Association in 

Denmark. His sisters Luz and Amelia were active in PUGAD, (People Uniting and Generating Aid for Development); a Danish (NGO) nongovernmental 

organization focused on helping third world countries. 


23

Filipinos in Scandinavia hold a good reputation as managers, entrepreneurs and workers. Some are employed managers and department 

heads of Norwegian firms while others were elected leaders of local labour union. 

• Mr. Tobias Varela Sr., a Villahanon, served as the Treasurer of The Filipino Community in Norway. 

• The late Romulo Gerardo, a Villahanon, was the founder of the first Filipino radio in Europe, the Radio Pinoy in Norway, partly funded 

by the local labour union. 

• Mrs. Juliana Uy Pedersen, a Villahanon, served a term as the President of the Filipino Adopted Sons and Daughters of Norway. She 

established the first Filipino Youth ClubHouse in Oslo, financed by the Norwegian local government. 

• Mr. Gerardo Ma. ‘Kin’ Gerardo (son of the late Romulo Gerardo) manages the Cosmopolite Jazz Club in Norway. 

• Mr. Roseller Gerardo and Mr. Ramses Gerardo are managing their own Automotive Tire business with Filipino employees. 


• Mr. Paul Romano is assigned to Africa 

at the Norwegian Consular Office. 

• Mrs. Consuelo A. Gerardo is a 

Department Head at Rødtvet 

Sykehjem (Hospital for the Aged) in 

Oslo.Mrs. Ellie P. Gerardo is a 

Corporate Accountant at the 

Scandinavian Airlines Systems, 

Accounting Services Norway. 

Among the second generation with Villahanon 

roots, Ms. Meena Gerardo Vij (daughter of 

Rosalia Gerardo Vij) is serving as a Senior 

Project Manager at British Telecom in 

England. 

• Ms. Meera Gerardo Vij (also a 

daughter of Rosalia) is a British 

Barrister (Lawyer), worked at the main 

office of the European Union in 

Brussels and is now back in London 

working in a British Law Office. 

• Mr. John Lester Gerardo recently acquired his Masters Degree in Information Technology at the University in Oslo and was offered an 

employment at a Norwegian IT company as Project Supervisor. 

• Miss Miriam Catherine Gerardo earned her Bachelors Degree in Business Administration at the Oslo School of Management last year 

and decided to travel to South America (including Peru, Lima) before seeking employment. 

We have also senior citizens in Norway and among the Villahanons, Mr. & Mrs. Tobias Varela were the first to enjoy these rights. 


25

The Villahanon population in Norway is increasing with one hundred and fifty individuals with roots from Villareal. Most of them are the grand 

children and the great grand children of the late Regulo Gerardo and Mrs. Rosario Gerardo. Other families adding up to the increasing population 

of Villahanons in Norway are the Varela’s, Pedersen’s, Abrigo’s, Geli’s and Aringay’s. In Denmark, the Abainza’s, Gerardo’s, Abrigo-Toustrup, 

and Gutierrez are the growing population among the Villahanons while Sweden has the Amistoso’s, Sacendoncillo’s , Abainza’s and Dasmarinas. 

Far from our hometown, we also celebrate our Fiesta Villahanon in Norway every last Saturday of August. Our venue is usually the beautiful 

Norwegian Woods, which reminds us of Manggarit or Losong where we would prepare our local lechon and dance the Curaccha throughout the 

day. This celebration is a testament of the love of Villahanons in Norway for our hometown and for our patron Saint St. Rosa of Lima. 

But behind these celebrations lurk our sadness, our longing and our dream to be in Villa once again and be a part of the struggle of the 

Villahanons’ for a better society. There is an ache in our hearts to give back and be of value to a community we will always belong to, in 

spite the distance. Our heart bleeds when lives of innocent people in Villa are put to waste, when their rights are thwarted, and when there 

seems to be no hope for a better future for the generation. 


We feel sad to hear the agony of the farmers, fisher folks and 

schoolteachers in their difficulty to send their children to school. We are 

angered when the governmental infrastructure projects, which can 

contribute to the economic stability of our town and people, are purposely 

neglected. 

Yet we are hopeful. And as we, Villahanons from the Land of the Midnight 

Sun, return one day, we shall know and say that indeed we have come 

home and there is no other place better. 

Even if we fear that our great grandchildren, the new generation of 

Villahanon Vikings, might not have a connection with Villareal, we will 

always keep Villa in our hearts. We shall keep the promise we made. 

The author is one of the pioneers of the Coca-Cola Bottlers in Norway. He started as a Business Operations Analyst at Coca-Cola Beverages 

and moved on to being its Account Manager for Logistics at Coca-Cola Drikker A/S. He was later appointed Business Analyst for the Coca-Cola 

Nordic Beverages covering Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Finland, Iceland and the Baltic Countries. He now heads the Logistics Resource Corp. 

in Norway as its CEO.

Villa ~ Half a Century 

and More of Remembrances 

By Cesar Torres* 

The expression: “Everyone needs a hometown to love or to hate…” seems to apply to the 

Villahanons. I am not really sure where I got this. Perhaps, it was an original idea by 

Samar’s Poet Laureate, Aniceto Llaneta, a classmate in Samar High. When the late Postal 

Regional Director Andres Cabueños was Editor-in-Chief of “An Lamrag” and Secretary of 

the Province of Samar, Aniceto and some of our classmates would cut classes to listen to 

him as a convocation speaker in Catbalogan schools. Those were simple days when we 

were innocent. We love the written word and admire brainy people. 

Perhaps, Aniceto got the expression from somewhere else. But to me, the important 

thing is that this expression somehow captures the sentiments of the Villahanons with respect to 

their hometown, Villareal, Samar, the only town in the Philippines which has an endearing nickname, 

Villa. 

In some Villahanon souvenir publication honoring the Peruvian Saint, the Santa Rosa de 

Lima, I recall writing about the “dualism” inherent in that expression.”’To love or to hate…’ This is 

the moral dilemma of mankind. It symbolizes the synthesis of opposites. The dualism immanent 

in the universe – of beauty and ugliness, of purity and corruption, of heaven and earth.’ 

We love Villa! We hate Villa! We love Villa… It is like a mantra of the Hindu mystics. 

The emotional force of this contradiction seems to enchain us to Villa. The bond is stronger than steel. 

After all, it is forged with every drop of our blood, every beat of our hearts. Thus, even if we are in Singapore, Tokyo, 

Hongkong, Canada, Norway, or someplace in Europe, in America, in the Middle East, in Australia, Brunei, and 

other parts of the world, or sailing the high seas as lonely mariners, our thoughts are never far from our hometown. 

For some of us who are away from the homeland and whose lives seem to be trailing the sinking sun 

beyond the western shores of Maqueda Bay, frequent are the times when our minds wonder to those bygone 

days. Detailed clarity might be blurring but the general outlines are still lingering in our failing memories. 

A hometown is where the heart is. It is not necessarily the place where one first saw the light of day, like 

me. I was born in Silanga, Catbalogan, Samar, a rich fishing ground many, many years ago. But it is in Villa 

where my memories are rooted more intensely. 


27


What are some of these memories? 

Having been born in the Second World War, as a child, I saw Japanese 

soldiers in Sigad in full uniform carrying guns with their helmets adorned with 

twigs that had still green leaves on them. They appeared to be crouching, 

crawling, then lying flat on the grass with their guns pointed at something. I 

think there were three of them. Nadulhog kami from our farm in Lam-awan to 

the bongto, the poblacion, at that time. 

During the war and the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, I think 

we stayed mostly in our farm in Lam-awan. But even there, I have vague 

memories of my grandfather, Apoy Amboy (Pablo Ranera), and my aunts and 

uncles, the entire family, climbing the hills breathing hard, almost gasping. 

They were escaping from something or someone. One time, we hurriedly 

went to a shelter hidden in a bamboo grove, mga kawayan, which were growing 

on both sides of the stream. No one would suspect that there was a shelter 

deep in the heart of the kawayan grove. Of course, I did not know why those things were happening to us. But I remember, we would do this 

every time we would hear the frantic banging of the “talutang”, that bamboo instrument used to warn people that danger is imminent. 

It must have been “Liberation”. I remember there were so many people harvesting rice in our “hagna”. Suddenly the skies were filled 

with airplanes, wave after wave after wave. Nobody told me why there were so many airplanes. We just looked up. I did not asked why there 

were so many airplanes either. After that, in the early evenings we would sit on our individual “banko”, and face Southeast, and turn our gaze 

beyond the mountains of Lam-awan. We could see lights streaming in the distant skies beyond the mountains. I learned later that they were 

tracer bullets. This was during the Battle of Leyte Gulf when the Americans had returned to the Philippines. 

I have vague memories after that. But I think we went to Tacloban aboard some boats. I remember passing by “Bangon”, and sucking 

on raw eggs. And in San Juanico Straits nearing Tacloban, there were warships, where I could see naked white men taking showers on the 

decks. 

I did not see an American soldier in Villa. But I remember all those delicious carne norte in long cans, courtesy of the American people. 

And the woolen blankets. Up to the time when I was in Samar High, we would still use those woolen American blankets, remnants of the 

American return to Samar. 

My first day in Grade One, at least, the first early morning, is still clear in my mind. I think together with my aunts and uncles who were going 

to school also, we hiked from Lama-awan to the poblacion. It was still dark when we arrived in the elementary school. We were made to 

assemble below that famous acacia tree where enkantados have been rumored to be in residence. There was community singing. I do not 

remember the song. My teacher in Grade One was probably the late Mana Anggay.

Thereafter, life was a blur. We constructed a house in Tayod. But we still maintained our house in the “Uma”, the farm in Lam-awan. 

The poblacion was a sleepy town where you can hear the chirping of the crickets, ngiya-ngiya, even at noontime, and the romantic singing of 

the Villahanons especially in the early evenings when they were drinking tuba, men and women. When you walk the grassy streets, you might 

step on dog poo and pig’s leavings – the most “kadiri” to me especially when it happens to you when the ground was wet after a rain – and when 

you go to the laguertas which were green with guava plants, you cannot miss the colorful and rotting waste of many Villahanons. I don’t know 

how many had toilets at that time. There were some of us from Tayod who would go down to Hawod to relieve ourselves. Doing this between 

two big stones while gazing at the beauty of the starry night and conscious of the gentle swishing of the wavelets around you was almost a 

mystical experience. Unsanitary? Oh yes! But we were one with nature, a process of recycling especially when the fish would gobble them up 

which we then would catch and broil. Aaaarrrrgh!!! 

We were already in Tayod when I first heard the sound of a motor vehicle in Villa. It must have been stuck in that Bayanihan road. I don’t 

know if it arrived intact in the town. I recall also that we pupils in the elementary school had to bring one stone every day to the school, stones 

which we then deposited on the Bayanihan Road. 

We would go to the farm to plant rice, corn, camote or bilanghoy or gaway or harvest them. We would go to the farm to get firewood. 

We would roam the hills and the meadows stupidly trying to kill the defenseless birds with our slingshots. During summer when there was no 

drinking water, a group of us, boys and girls and our elders with long coconut tubes on our shoulders, we called them “salod”, would parade on 

the trails via the Sigad, to get drinking water. We would have been a sight during moonlight nights, six, ten boys and girls with long bamboo 

tubes on their shoulders, marching on the trails one after the other 

My family had no money. But I did see American coins, leftovers of the American occupation. So if we had no viand, and we are sick and tired 

of the salty hipon or shrimp paste of salted bahong, of kayod, and kisiyo, of bulad, we would troop to the seashore at low tide, during humbas, 

para mamangti, looking for seashells – sangpiyad, bukawel, karang karang, tikod hin daraga or just plain dahonan and lato. We would eat 

sangpiyad raw, we would get two of them, knock them on each other, and scoop out the sangpiyad flesh. One time, I stumbled on a binga. It 

was a happy day for my brother, Lope, and me and my family. Since many Villahanons were “cashless”, the adults would use their nets, 

sudsod, to catch fish, shrimps, crabs, crustaceans, and other 


29

products of our sea. Having a tinola of sinudsuran is more delicious than the French 

“bouillabaisse”. 

For us youngsters, fishing, swimming, beachcombing, doing errands, going to church, 

to school, getting firewood, playing were integral parts of our lives. Our toys were were 

organic such as orokay which we used as tires when we were crafting cars and trucks. 

Except for the plastic heel of worn out shoes which we treasured for our games, our toys 

were all biodegradable. We played sato. We would go around the town from Tayod to Rawis 

to Kan Pia Otot (Barangay Villarosa), hitting that small stick with a long one, while our 

opponents would try to catch the short stick; and then running while holding our breaths. 

There was tatse, barobanyakay where we kicked bundled multicolored rubber bands, 

nirotigbasay during moonlight nights, rurumba (racing against each other whether in the 

school plaza or in the town streets in the afternoons, Virgilio Latorre was unbeatable), tagotago-ay 

(hide and seek, I like it very much when the girls would join us especially during dark 

nights or even during moonlight nights provided there were dark nooks and hiding places). 

I think every Villahanon was a Roman Catholic at that time. So all Villahanons went 

to the Church of the Santa Rosa de Lima religiously. We listened patiently to masses said 

in Latin, which was of course weird because they were incomprehensible to us, even the 

“Ora Pronobis and the Pater Noster”. We confessed our sins and took communion. Then we 

sinned again, whatever they were. We studied cathecism in summer, especially in May. I 

was very good pupil. I even got a Pals Pomade as my reward. In May, we loved watching the 

girls in their white uniforms with flower garlands around their dainty heads and their blue 

sashes around their slim waists. We vowed to marry the pretty ones by eloping with them 

while riding on a white horse to Paradise. 

At 6:00 o’clock in the evening, the towering kampanaryo would chime with the bells. 

The kampanaryo which was probably constructed out of the slave labor of the Villahanons, 

the towering kampanaryo which had a panoramic view of Maqueda Bay to safeguard Catholic 

Villa from the onslaughts of the Warriors who believe in Mohammed and the Sultanates of 

Sulu and Maguindanao. It was Angelus time. If we were on the streets, we would stop, make 

the sign of the cross, and hurry up to home. At home, after our simple supper, we would 

wash the dishes. And then we would gather around the living room, perhaps the sala for the 

likes of Mila Figueroa and Virgilio Latorre who were rich and had big houses. Since there 

were no radios, no TVs, no computers, we would listen to our elders tell stories to us, part of 

our oral tradition. Usually, the stories were about engkantos and aswangs. And then to 

provide more drama and legitimacy to the aswang stories, something would fly overhead 

making the sound of “Wak, wak, wak, wak.” So we had no doubt whatsoever that indeed 

there were Aswangs or Wakwaks. 


During summer the cycle was the farm, the sea, picnics, marking the nests of the birds, 

playing with our kites, fetching drinking water with our salod, getting firewood from the farms sometimes 

from the mangroves in Pangpang, rising early and going to bed early too. 

During Christmas, there were panarits, Christmas Carols, and lantern contests. Even in the 

farms, there were groups who would walk from one hill to another hill singing the panarits all night long. 

And on Christmas Day in the poblacion, the Child Jesus would be paraded around the town. A kiss and 

a ting-a-ling of the bells of the Sacristans would earn the Church P0.01. One centavo at that time could 

still buy you a butterball candy. 

There was some kind of a physical, cultural, economic, and political divide between Tayod and 

Hawod. There were “warfares”, “invasions” among the young warriors of Tayod and Hawod. The weapons 

were organic. Just bamboo guns with bullets carved from the roots of a tuber. There were haringas, 

water guns. Nobody died of course, like what is happening now between the soldiers and the NPAs and 

the MILF and the MNLF and the Abu Sayyaff. The world has become more civilized and more advanced. 

Since there was no radio, no TV, no movies, and many could not afford to go to Catbalogan to 

watch a movie, entertainment for special occasions such as the fiesta in August, was through a 

“Komedya”. The rehearsals were done on a site near the building of the Holy Name Academy. The 

usual theme was the classic confrontation between systems of belief represented by the Mujaheddins 

of Saladin and the Knights of Richard the III and the Crusaders (perhaps the mysterious Knights 

Templar), a confrontation that goes back to Granada in 1492 and which continues to unfold today and 

could sound the death knell of mankind. It seems this Villahanon Komedya was known far and wide. 

Visitors from the neighboring towns and as far away as Carigara in Leyte, would come in boatloads to 

watch the Villahanon Komedya, sell their wares, partake of humba and other delicious Villahanon 

preparations for the fiesta, imbibed on tuba and whisper sweet nothings to Villahanon lasses. And the 

Villahanon swains would do the same to lovely lasses from such neighboring towns as Zumarraga. The 

late Villahanon educator and icon, Ninang Maring Romano, told me that there would be hundreds of 

boats anchored from end to end on the Villa waterfont. The late Eduardo “Dadoy” Hilbano was a towering 

figure in this art form. 

While there was scarcity – having scrambled eggs seasoned with the fragrant sibuyen or having fried 

chicken were abnormal occurrences – there was also abundance. In August, the rice harvested in the 

previous planting season could not last the whole year through. So families had to make do with duma, 

root crops, and corn, which seems to be the favorite of the Cebuanos. However, cooking corn grits with 

coconut milk with a buraw barol embedded in the daba and then partaking of the combination is beyond 

description. We would close our eyes with the delicious preparation. And as a test how delicious the 

combination was of corn, cooked in coconut milk and barol nga buraw, we had to gulp water from a 

coconut shell because we were thirsty (hinihibol). 


31


There was abundance of camote, bilanghoy, saging, all sorts of saging you would not 

believe the variety of saging at that time, silot, pako, fresh air, tubo, bokawel, tuba, bulad, sisi, 

fruits, sweet, luscious fruits, pasayan, and fresh fish. Tabangongo was and still is a delicacy. 

Having tabangongo with bihud or mother bangus, bangrus, which were so fat and so cheap and 

hanananaw, a sting ray with white liver which was the main ingredient of binakhaw, can make 

you forget everything else, even your girl friends or boy friends, including your numerous “Good 

Fors” from Mana Sabel and Mana Leling. Crabs, oh boy. One time, there were so many crabs 

that you don’t need to use a net to capture them. They would swim to the surface of the sea, 

almost begging you to scoop them to your containers. Crabs, crabs, crabs, fat, tasty crabs with 

aligue. And there was sarad, and bahong. Lope, to earn some money, had become a proficient 

sarad diver. One time when I visited Villa from Catbalogan, I saw him selling sarad by the 

bucket. And surprise! His hair had become blonde, bleached by the interaction of the sea, the 

sun, the air, and the salt. Years later, when I had gone to Tawi Tawi, the Badjaos there would 

remind me of Lope. And here in America, the green-eyed, blonde, lily-skinned Caucasians 

would remind me of Lope and sarad. Indeed, Maqueda Bay and the Bay of Villa were so rich with 

the bounties of God and Nature. And the Villahanons, young or old did not flinch from hard work. 

The rainforest of Villa and Samar were majestic in their splendor. Almost pristine, primeval, 

untouched. You cast your gaze to the mountains, and the trees would be towering in the distance. 

Lope and I went to the jungles of Sibahay one time. There I climbed a fully grown Kamagong 

tree, a tree whose wood is ebony black, and now so rare. They say the Kamagong wood is 

harder than steel and is more precious than gold. 

And because the “web that sustains life” was perhaps still in perfect balance, in the late afternoons 

and the early evening, there were thousands and thousands of birds of all shapes, sizes, and 

colors flying from the hinterlands of Villa and Samar to roost in the islands off Villa such as Puro. 

One time, Pepito Varela, admittedly the most popular crooner of his generation, the late Jose 

Negado, and I borrowed a boat. We were on our way to Banquil, to serenade my classmate with 

whom the musician Jose Negado was “eyeing”. With a full moon lighting the entire Bay of Villa, 

we rowed towards Banquil. When we reached the sandbars separating Puro and Pacao, we had 

to get off from the boat and drag it over the sandbar. It was low tide. We rested after our 

exertions. And then Padé Joe took out his trumpet, blew on it, trying to accompany Pepito who 

was beginning to croon his Mario Lanza favorite of “Overhead the Moon is Beaming” inspired by 

the magic of the moonlight. It woke up all the birds resting in the trees of Puro. There was a 

cacophony of sound. We made the sign of the cross and stopped. Subdued and silent, we 

continued with our rowing to Banquil and came back to the bongto at 2 o’clock in the morning. 

I think the Protectors of the Birds punished us for disturbing their rest. Sablay (Padé Joe) did 

not marry the object of our harana in Banquil. Mana Petra was his destiny.

One summer, Lope and I were assigned by our uncle, Tay Dadoy Ranera, to take 

care of a corn plantation in Tingara. For several weeks while the corn was growing, Lope and 

I, as soon as we would wake up in the morning, would put on our buri hats, strap the 

sundang to our waists, and hike as fast as we could to Tingara from our house in Tayod. We 

had to be there early to shoo away the birds who would feast on the sweet corn. One time, 

we arrived very early. While Lope was roasting corn ears, I climbed a nearby tree which was 

laden with fruits. I was there, leaning on the tree trunk when green and white parrots, picoy 

and abucay alighted on the tree where I was hidden by the foliage. I think the birds must 

have noticed me. But they were not bothered by my presence. They just went on eating the 

fruits of the tree. Those were halcyon days for us Our breakfast was roasted corn. Our 

lunch was roasted corn and broiled fungus. Sometimes we had roasted wild bird, tikling. 

And we roamed the hills and the meadows and hobnobbed with the wildlife. 

I finished up to Grade Five in the Villareal Elementary School. Our poverty was not 

a hindrance to “the life of the mind”. The library was bursting with books. I would borrow one 

and bring it to Lama-awan. There, I would read the colored books by the light of the kerosene 

lamp. 

Children will always play and dream. Dr. Jesus Reyes, “Esong”, and I were seatmates 

in Grade Two . During recess we would discuss how Superman might go to Korea, fight the 

enemies of the American and the Filipino soldiers. The late Benedicto “Ubaw” Rapanan was 

a very good friend too. We would go under the Gabaldon Building and try to catch those 

insects burrowing on the sand and play with them. As a teacher, we believed the late Tay 

Antonino Varela was a universal genius. He would teach us social studies, then music, and 

was in charge of our plots which were planted with pichay. Of course, every Saturday, we 

would visit our pichay plantation. One time, a classmate, Bernardita Gabrinao who only 

spoke the language of the Imperialistang Taga-ilog was on her way to their farm nearby. We 

were teasing Virigilio Latorre to Bernardita. In a fit of anger, Bernardita stepped on the 

pichay plot of Virgilio. To replant his pichay plantation, Virgilio had to borrow some seedlings 

from the rest of us without our permission. 

The political bad blood among families in Villa was unavoidable even among us youngsters. 

This was apparent between the Latorres et al and the Gelis et al. I forget now what was the 

immediate cause. But suddenly, here was the late Potenciano Geli and Virgilio Latorre 

fighting it out in that Gabaldon building. To even the odds, I think Poten got a piece of 

bamboo, a gamon. I believe Virgilio’s eyebrow was cut. I remember blood was spurting from 

his face. Somehow, we must have been able to pacify the protagonists. I think years later 

when the two had become wiser, they would remember that incident as some sort of a rite of 

passage to manhood. 


33

My Grade Five schooling was a watershed in my studies. Who was the most brilliant among us? Not Lydia Varela who was Salutatorian 

later. Not Esong Reyes. Not Virgilio Latorre who became Valedictorian one year later. Not Poten Geli. Not Cesar Torres. If you ask us to vote, 

I think we would vote for Aring (Agripina) Varela. (She left Villa when we were young. But I saw Aring once in Tongao, Butuan when I was roaming 

Pilipinas in the company of “lovely friends”. When Justice Eddie Nachura was just USEC of Education, I was always thinking of asking him to 

look up the address of Aring. It never happened. But I have always this fond memories of a dear, brilliant, always cheerful classmate.) 

As I said, I continued my studies in Catbalogan in Grade Six. In my first year in Samar High in 1953, I was surprised to see Virgilio 

Latorre in our class. Madé Doding Conise (Gertrudes Conise-Ocaña) was another Villahanon in our class. 

We had become orphans. So Lope and I stayed with an uncle in Manila, Tay Beboy Ranera. While in Manila, we sold newspapers, 

magazines, and comics. We knew the Santa Ana, Paco, San Andres, Pandacan districts, including the shanty areas, like the palm of our 

hands. After making the rounds, we would take our breakfast – a P0.05 bottle of Sarsaparilla, and I think two pieces of pan de coco worth P0.05. 

Elsa stayed with our Apoy Nanang (Juana Teves Hermida) in Villa. 

After months of trying to survive with dignity in Manila, our fortunes changed. My uncle, Bienvenido Torres was looking for me. Because 

our father was a soldier in World War II and was listed as missing in action we were finally given some compensation for his services and his 

life. I went back to Catbalogan. I was still able to enroll in Samar High for the second year, but I was late by two periodical periods. But through 

the intercession of a kind woman, a science teacher in Samar High, Mrs. Engracia Garcia, I was admitted during the Third Departmental period. 

She is a mentor whose memory is deeply etched in my heart. Lope in the meantime, enrolled in Quezon City as Freshman. One time he had 

no money for jeep fare. So he walked from his school to Pandacan where he was staying. A nice two-hour hike. 

In the Samar High, Lydia had joined us. With Virgilio, it became a reunion of sorts. In Samar High, I believe we Villahanons were blazing trails 

also. For instance, there was never any doubt that Virgilio would someday become Governor or Congressman of Samar. He was our student 

politician par excellence. In fact, when we were just Third Year, he would have beaten Eddie Nachura for President of the Student Council if I 

was not Eddie’s candidate for Vice President. His charisma and self-confidence was undeniable. Well, God works in mysterious ways. Virgilio 

was destined for other things such as being a top brass in the regional administrative system but with the risk of his pants being burned. With 

her brief stay with us in Samar High, the beautiful Lydia was a member of the high school social elite. 

I was in Samar High when I had my first real job, supposedly with a wage. It was a government job. Ever the kindest person that he has 

always been (one time in Tacloban, when Mano Alding Oreo and I were going to Villa to campaign for a congressional candidate, he gave me 

his last P0.10 centavos), Virgilio gave me three days of the five days he was allotted in the road work by his uncle Mayor Fidencio Latorre — 

cleaning and maintaining that now famous Bayanihan Road of shrubs and debris that were littering the road. For three days in summer, I would 

wake up early in the morning. Bring bahaw and fried usu-os as my balon. strap the scabbard of the sundang to my waist, put on a buri hat, walk 

to a place somewhere beyond Igot and do our work. I forgot now who were my fellow laborers. But I really worked hard because even at that 

time I believe that it was the people of the Philippines who were paying us for our work. And I did not want to cheat on them. 

I waited and waited for my wage of my three days of hard work. I never got it. Not even Virgilio could tell me what happened to my wage 

or if he got it in his name or someone got the money and pocketed it. This was my first official encounter with my Government. 


During summers in high school, I would go to Villa. We had our barkada. We would meet periodically in the imburnals especially 

during moonlight nights. We would debate, trying to impress each other with our facility of English, serenade the girls, engaged in the 

occasional irignom and picnics on weekends. Since we were teenagers valiantly trying to impress the girls, we would wear bakya, wooden 

clogs, all over the town. The Japanese had not yet discovered the manufacturing of those rubber sandals which pollute the environment. 

We graduated from high school in 1957. There were no graduation parties and rejoicing. Ramon Magsaysay, the CIA-backed President 

of the Philippines, had died in a plane crash in Cebu. After our commencement rites, I went to Villa, as an onlooker of the graduation in West 

Coast Academy. While there, we were looking towards Catbalogan which was burning to the ground right at that very moment. Surprisingly, I 

was not worried; perhaps because I had few personal belongings in Catbalogan. Sometimes, it is nice to be poor. 

I ended in the University of the Philippines. While in Manila, we Villahanon students obviously gravitated to each other — Budick Yu, Vincent 

and Nonong Figueroa, Ubaw Rapanan, Ising Endrina, Nanding Hilbano, Lydia and Raul Varela, Edith Latoja, the lovely Evelyn Latoja, Liit and 

Bing Tizon, Gingging Dasmariñas who was our junior, the Seludos (Maruja, Douglas and their siblings) Gironedes “Neding” Gelera, later on 

Andrew Varela, then Pacit Varela, Felisa Tandinco, Baby Godo Gelera who was not a drunkard like us, Titing Gelera Latorre who was more of 

a Guiuananon than a Villahanon, and some others, and of course Lope. We became the core of the “Villareal Youth Club of Manila”, VYCM. I 

was its President. I think we helped in celebrating the fiesta in Manila. But we did have some meetings. I remember quarreling with Caridad 

Paco over some inconsequential issue. 


35

But our VYCM was nothing compared to the trailblazing achievements of the Villahanon Association of Metro Manila. They have shown 

the way. I just hope they do not get waylaid by the wayside, groping in the dark recesses of pride and lack of humility. 

When I would drop out from the U.P. I would end up in Villa bothering Mikolo “Kalig”.Miguel Presnilla. He was already a teacher at that 

time. And of course, he was a very popular and sought after teacher. Very romantic, great with his fingers, especially when he was strumming 

the guitar and using those slender fingers for all activities. God, created him that way. So I would go with him to Bangon, to Plaridel. There I 

would help in the Pintakasi, repairing a school building among others. I would go with the Ugdok (eel) catchers. One time, Batá Pepe Morabor 

who motored to Bangon to sell some fish, labas, wanted to take me back to Villa, worried that the tagnok would eat me out. Then from Plaridel, 

we would walk the mountain trails to San Andres and visit Araceli Abainza, Gloria Latoja, and the other lady teachers in San Andres. From San 

Andres, we would hike to San Roque. We even went to Bino-ongan and Santa Rosa and gobbled up Libook. We had no money to buy 

cigarettes. So we roasted tobacco, crumpled the tobacco leaves and rolled them in paper to make a tigol. 


I would go back to Manila after a stint of serenading 

the Villahanon teachers in the barrios and picking up, sagol, 

choice fishes for kinilaw from the tables of Mana Payang 

and scribbling all those innumerable “Good Fors” some of 

which are still probably outstanding. And with the inspiration 

and prodding of Lydia who had come back from America, I 

had to finish my studies, especially when Mara and Alexander 

were already around. But our house in Project 2 in Quezon 

City and Sampaloc were still veritable half-way houses for 

Villahanons who had no place to stay in Manila. To finish my 

studies, there were times when I would not go home once I 

knew that there was drinking going on in the house. After all 

Lope and Nanding Hilbano, Nanding who was the best 

curacha dancer I have ever seen in Manila, were still the 

drinking buddies of most Villahanons, including the new 

members of the Lepanto Boys, Mano Ramon Hilvano, the 

late Padé Prudy Geli who entrusted to me her daughter Dada, 

and the late Tiboy Latorre, who was so hard to control when 

he was drunk. Sometimes we would hold him by his hands, 

and his feet and dump him on a taxi and bring him home. 

In the Villareal community in Metro Manila, we would still 

see each other especially during the celebration of the Feast 

of the Santa Rosa de Lima.

Compared to other Samarnon groups in Metro Manila who would celebrate their fiestas in elegant surroundings such as the Manila 

Hotel, where only the elite and those with money could savor the grace and ambiance of a Catholic and Christian tradition devoted to God and 

His Saints, in contrast, the Villahanons, at least when I was still there, would reach out to everyone. Nobody would be turned away, even those 

who were definitely gatecrashers and freeloaders. Precisely, as a response to our Catholicism and graciousness, celebrating the Feast of the 

Santa Rosa in Metro Manila was characterized by popular and grassroots responsibility. From a single hermano or hermana during its early 

years, now there are so many of them and they all come from all over the world especially from Norway, whose trailblazer was Rosalia Gerardo. 

I think she was the first Filipina and Villahanon in Norway and Europe. 

After saying “No” to the beckoning of America in 1983, with a heavy heart, uncertain what the future would bring, I decided to try my 

luck in this land of milk and honey, the former colonial master of our people, the most powerful and richest country in the world. 

With $10 that I borrowed from Fe in my pocket I boarded the Northwest Jumbo Jet to San Francisco in November 1985. Except for ex- 

DAP Executive Vice President, Dr. Segundo Romero, Jr. I did not tell anyone in the UP that I was leaving. When I told my staff in Ayala that I 

was leaving in the afternoon on that very day, there was lamentation. Mara and Alexander followed, arriving in the University Town of Berkeley 

on December 24, 1985. 

It was a very humbling and frustrating experience in San Francisco during the early months of our arrival. Only Lydia was working. 

Despite my qualifications, I could not find a job. We were helped by very kind Calbiganons, Ester Ocenada-Benigno and her cousins, and a 

Basaynon whose name we have forgotten but whose kindness is forever engraved in our hearts. Finally, when we had the time and the 

resources, we gravitated to our kind. First to the Calbiganons, because Lydia is half-Calbiganon. Theirs was the first fiesta we attended in 

America. Then the Catbaloganons, after all I was born in Silanga. Then the Villahanons whose leaders and concentration were in Los Angeles. 

But several years would pass before we could go to Los Angeles. As a symbol of our solidarity and unity with all Villahanons all over the world, 

we never succumbed to the siren song of forming our own Villahanon association in San Francisco, especially if the only purpose was just to 

celebrate the fiesta. We thought we should organize a pilgrimage to Lima, Peru and devote whatever resources we could spare to helping our 

hometown, instead of focusing so much on our fiesta celebration here in America. 

For us, therefore, there was only one community of Villahanons all over the world. We referred to ourselves as “The Villahanons 

International” which include Esdras, Inday, and Ponso Romano in Northern California, Ruben Gerardo and other Villahanons in Norway, 

Quirino Ragub and his beloved Tunding who has a penchant for burning pants of his beloved cousin, Nora Colles-Chawla, Ada Quijano-Reyes, 

Soledad Agote in Canada, Nora and other Royandoyans, the Hilvanos (the late Godfather of the Villahanons, Mano Sotero Hilvano, sons Victor 

and wife, Doctor Mansueta and Angelito), Gery Hilvano in Las Vegas, and their cousins, who spell their names differently, the Hilbanos, in 

Southern California and Las Vegas, (Mano Joe, Belen), Mana Bangbang and Ate Grace Arcallana, the Ricaldes (Mana Oswalda and the late Fr. 

Nick), the admirable couple, Dina Seludo and Frank Bunuan, Clarito and Mana Mila Seludo, Mana Juling Gabompa who has a lovely house on 

top of a hill in Northern California, the Seludos-Tabungars, Caridad Paco, Mana Cordying Daluraya, Suki, Tening, and Zenaida Ygat in California, 

the Varelas in the Midwest, Lotlot Fallorina, Mana Nina Latorre-Ras and lovely daughter, Bingbing, Dave Yu, the finance whizz who waited 8 

hours to be picked up at the San Francisco Airport, Aida Geli, Rufino and Jimmy Obregon, Ralph Brillante who has severed his relationship with 

Villahanons in California, Mana Lily Fabilane and brother, Isidro, and Mana Ruthie Dougherty whom we visited regular and now we do not see 

anymore, Gina Cabueños and Dennis Blanco, Joanna Aboga and her gracious American husband, Bob Foster, our ever reliable, classmate 

Minda Geli, Godofredo “Baby” Gelera, one of the pioneer Villahanons in California, Padre Pepe Garcia in Canada, and the family of Judith 


37

Presnilla in Sacramento, and many others more. There are now so many of us, Villahanons in Diaspora, we need a huge database. For those 

I cannot remember, please forgive me. The next Villahanon historians will rectify our lapses. 

In America, we tried to combine our religious piety with civic works for our hometown, little things for our church, the schools (books and 

scholars for the Holy Name Academy), innovative arrangements such as “The Paolo Lean Torres Pimentel Partners in Learning”, a collaboration 

with the Cambaguio and the Central Elementary Schools), the community, such as the Stairway to Heaven of The Clan led by Vincent Figueroa, 

supporting the publication of the pioneering “Budyong Han Villa”, which was staffed by Villahanon writers and poets and printed by using a 

mimeograph machine, and organizing the Omawas Foundation which unhappily resulted in the unnecessary and tragic death of two beloved 

community leaders, Mano Joe and Mana Nitnit Dalwatan and Elma Figueroa’s suffering. But for the courage and bravery of Mila Figueroa, one 

of the most respected leaders of our community who chose to stay in Villa to serve our people, instead of staying in America as a highly paid 

Florence Nigtingale, many more would have lost their lives. All for nothing. We need to honor Mano Joe and Mana Nitnit, mga Baraan nga 

Susgaran han Bongto. 

We remember with fondness the late Epifanio Nuñez. Together with his wife, Flor Marasigan, they mobilized the Villahanons in 

California on helping our church. We have that aborted Kamorayaw Cemetery Project of the Villahanons International, of course. The souls of 

the dead Villahanons are wailing in the nether world because of a promise that remains unfulfilled. But the dream is there. Kun diri kita, iton 

sunod nga henerasyon. Kun diri yana, iton sunod nga panahon. 

There were profound changes among Villahanons too. For once a Villahanon Parish Priest, Fr. Jun Cinco, could hobnob with his flock 

in America, not just in Villa and Metro Manila. Through the very illustrious and eminent Archbishop Jose Palma, Villahanon priests could visit 

us in San Francisco and other parts of America. 

As fate would have it, a Villahanon, Marivel Sacendoncillo, could exercise some authority and influence to send local government 

executives, such as Mayor Renato “Boy” Latorre, (and sister Calbiga Mayor, Luzviminda “Bebot” Latorre) to train in Canada. Before this, our 

mayors could only travel to Lamingao, to Catbaloganon, to Tacloban and to Manila on official business with some relaxation in some night 

spots. After all, it was so tiring and tedious following up official business in the bureaucratic bowels of the Philippine Administrative System, 

especially if one has a hangover. 

The singular importance of our democratic social structure and its concomitant egalitarianism — we do not distinguish ourselves from 

each other whether tuminongnong or a timawa or whether Manila-born or fresh from San Francisco, New York, Canada, or Norway or from 

Inasudlan, San Andres or Himyangan — separates us from other groups. There is also that oneness with everyone which somehow culminates 

in the hermandad and celebration of the fiesta in Metro Manila where one is deemed not to have fully complied with the unwritten initiation of 

being a Villahanon if one has not yet become a sponsor of the Santa Rosa fiesta. Finally, there is our characteristic as thinkers, visionaries, and 

dreamers. Sometimes, like the eloquent Fr. Rudy Romano or the Calubids, and others, we pay with our lives. All these and other factors provide 

us with a dynamic community of Villahahons linked to each other all over the world. 


With the advent of the Internet, many diasporic Villahanons have become closer to each other. We communicate in the World Wide 

Web with a flick of a “computer mouse”. Aside from long distance calls, there is cell phone texting, Yahoo Messenger, Web Cameras, and the 

most popular of all, electronic mail. Our brilliant municipal consultant and local government planner, Armando “Boy” Ridao transmits huge 

computer files from the municipio to me in California, files which contain the comprehensive development plan of the town under the leadership 

of Mayor Reynato “Boy” Latorre and his fellow municipal officials. I chat on real time with Jim Gabree, the Amerian husband of Marjorie Hilvano 

in Guintarcan, through a computer which is connected to the Internet through “satellite broadband”which does not need land-based telephone 

connections. I used to chat with my godchild, Jeanette Presnilla, in Tacloban while I was in San Francisco. Indeed, our familiarity with the 

Internet makes us tower above many other groups all over the Philippines. As of last count, for instance, we have three websites and electronic 

discussion groups. 


39

The foregoing, together with other factors, combined to develop a synergy, a confluence of events and circumstances, making us a 

model all over the Philippines and the Third World. When we took on this mind-boggling collaborative project to repair and cement this 8-km 

public road through Tiklos or Bayanihan, a project that has never been done voluntarily in the history of the Philippines, a project that involves 

massive use of the Internet, a project where even our school children are helping, we showed the world that poor as we are, we can hold our 

heads high with dignity. The corrupt and the nincompoops do not dangle us by their dirty little fingers anymore. 

Of course, we Villahanons are not angels. I once stumbled on Ruben Gerardo’s “Villahanon Forum”, a discussion medium in the 

Internet. I could not believe at the lack of principles, the cowardice, the unkindness, and the quality of the exchanges. I could not discern any 

graciousness and humility. People would just fling accusations left and right without any evidence. They hide under aliases. It is disheartening 

to realize that the kind and noble intentions of Ruben’s Villahanon Forum has been hijacked and mutilated by unprincipled individuals. It is 

practically reeking with unimaginable evil. 

We will self-destruct if we don’t wake up from our psychosis. Hurling accusations while hiding under aliases and fictitious names are 

symptomatic of a sick society, a society of political, cultural, and civic misfits. We have to wrench ourselves from the old ways of doing things. 

We cannot continue to be hating each other without letup. We will explode with our unflinching hatred at our fellow Villahanons. 

It is critical that we transcend our myopic and tongao-like perceptions of our roles in our municipality, in how we confront the challenges 

facing Villa, the entire Philippine society, and the world. Our almost deliberate inability to do this is what makes unlovable. 

Even then, we continue with our mantra: “We love Villa! We hate Villa! We love Villa….” And if we are believers in the Peruvian Saint, 

Santa Rosa de Lima, and all the other saints whose sainthoods are being celebrated by all Villahanons in our 38 barangays and by their 

associations in Metro Manila, there is no doubt that love will triumph, that good will vanquish evil and hatred. 

I end this labor of love with some lines from the Ecclesiastes: 

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: 

A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak, 

A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.” 

And from Desiderata: 

“Do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. 

Many fears are borne of fatigue and loneliness. 

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.” 

Editor’s Note: When I requested Mano Cesar to contribute an article, I was thinking that busy as he is, he would only come out with a one-page 

or two-page piece that he can finish in one setting. When he called me and asked how long his article might be, I told him that it should be 5 

to 6 pages. I was wondering what was taking him so long. It turned out that he has decided to write about the Villahanons covering a period 


of more than half a century. This piece is far from being a definitive, authoritative, historical piece. If ever, this simply attempts to preserve for 

the future generations some memorable events among Villahanons in our hometown, in Metro Manila, and in America where he is based now 

since 1985. It shows the way. We should not construe this as his story. Rather, this is the story of our town and how he lived there. He has 

decided to do this, so that our past is not forgotten, so that our children and their children’s children will know. He correctly thinks that if he will 

not do this, nobody else will. And if he will not do this now, this will never be done at all. 

The author is a product of our public school system. An alumnus of the Samar High School where he graduated with honors and was a student leader, he 

is a recipient of the Outstanding Centennial Alumnus Award in 2004. He has three degrees from the U.P. one with honors which automatically made 

him a lifetime member of the International Social Science Honor Society of Pi Gamma Mu. In the U.P., he has the distinction of being the only undergraduate 

to be appointed Assistant to the Vice President for Development and Public Affairs of the U.P. System. He was an Assistant Professor of the Department 

of Political Science while being Senior Consultant of the think tank Development Academy of the Philippines. During the Centennial Celebration of the U.P. 

National College of Public Administration and Governance, he was nominated by now U.P. Vice President for Planning and Finance, Dr. Maria Concepcion 

Parrocco-Alfiler who was then Dean of the College, as Outstanding Public Administration Alumnus. He has created the Internet group, UP-Alumni-In- 

Cyberspace@yahoogroups.com. He is still working as a senior analyst of the State of California where he was given the Sustained Superior Performance Award 

in 1997, the only Filipino to be given that award that year. He is active in the Filipino-American community in Northern California – Founder of the Samar High-Samar National 

School Alumni Association of America, Past President of the San Francisco-based Samareños of California, Board Member, Acting President and Vice-President of the 

Filipino American Council of San Francisco, Chairman of the Pamana ng Lahing Pilipino Foundation, Board Member of the UP Alumni Association of San Francisco. He is 

an original convenor of the innovative International Discussion Group Filam-Forum@yahoogroups.com who meet every now and then in San Francisco. He is a columnist 

of the “Filipino Insider” which is also published online. Together with Ruben Gerardo, he moderates the Internet discussion group, GugmaHanSamar@yahoogroups.com 

and is the Chief Editor and contributor of the online publication of Gugma Han Samar Cyberspace Movement. 

He is married to the beauteous Lydia Froilan Varela with whom he has two children, Maria “Mara” Teresita Varela Torres-Pimentel and Alexander “Doydoy” Varela Torres. 

Mara is married to the author and former San Francisco Chronicle staff writer and ABS-CBN anchorman, Benjamin Pimentel, with whom they have two boys, 8-year old 

Paolo Lean Torres Pimentel and 2-year old Anton Diego Torres Pimentel. Together with thousands of Filipino expatriates around the world, especially in the Middle East, 

he is currently involved in helping organize a worldwide, economic, social, and political movement that will focus on a more effective participation in Philippine development 

of the more than 8 million Filipinos in Diaspora. This piece is dedicated to the future generations of Villahanons. 


41



43

Villareal, Forever My Home 

By: Terry S. Wickström 

It has been 20 years ago since I left Villareal and breathe my very first 

Scandinavian air here. It was around midsummer when I arrived and I froze 

cold which made me wonder, if I freeze in summertime, how would I make it in 

wintertime? I have been back to Villareal at least a dozen times since then. 

During this span of time, I also made several travels abroad and these travels 

and my stay here in Sweden are basis of these reflections. 

Villareal and Uppsala, Sweden where I now reside are home to me. Despite of 

the differences between the two places, one too exotic and the other an 

international metropolis in an 18 th century setting, both places I consider my 

home; places very close to my heart and where I have my family and friends 

with whom I share the ups and downs of life. 

The very first thought that comes to mind when thinking of Villareal is the 

simplicity of life, so removed from the stress and hassles of this postmodern 

world. When I lived in Villareal I took for granted that we did not compete with 

time, did not have to make appointments to meet a very close friend or even a 

family member. Living in a fast paced urban environment in the North, 

everyone seems to be very busy that you can’t make unannounced visits or 

meet them as often as you want to. Even my children have their own 

schedules outside of school and I too have a full set of activities with a full 

time job. So time has to be managed effectively. In Villareal, one finds 

tranquillity and time to reflect, such priceless gifts taken for granted. Stress is 

a foreign word in Villa, in contrast to this modern world. 

Another thing that comes to mind when thinking of Villareal is our nearness to nature. People abroad take expensive holidays to exotic 

countries for a good doze of sunshine and to experience the beauty of nature. But these things are just around the corner in Villareal. Here 

in Sweden summer is very short lasting only 3 months. I found it quite strange in the beginning when the weather and sunshine preoccupied 

people’s conversations. I could never forget my first sight of these sun worshippers with closed eyes as they gazed towards the sun as if in 

trance. It took years before I understood them and did the same after not getting enough sunshine in the short summer months. It was 

therefore not a surprise to see how awed my colleagues at work were when I described to them the beauty of nature of Pacao, my 

birthplace in Villareal. 


When I think of Villareal, I think of family and family values. One recollects how close family members are to one another and how in time of 

need you could always run to them for help. In return you also want to give back, to pay forward. The sense of belonging and the assurance 

of family sets the Villahanons apart. Indeed a blessing especially if you think of how the seniors in developed countries like Sweden end up 

in nursing homes. 

One thing that also stands out when remembering Villareal is our political practices, which is so different from the political culture in 

Sweden. I remember the first time I asked a person who he was voting for. I got a very strange look and realized that voting is private, almost 

sacred. People discuss political platforms but the voting is done privately. You don’t convince family or relatives to vote for a certain party. 

Voting is a personal right and has to be decided only by the individual. . 

Finally, Villareal reminds me of my happy moments in the former Villareal Municipal High School. I spent the most fruitful, memorable and 

happy years in Villareal there. I look back to those times with joy and gratitude. 

The author is a supervisor of Gate Gourmet in Sweden. She is a daughter of Former Vice-Mayor Pascual A. Sacendoncillo and Antonia J. Sacendoncillo. 

She is blessed with two (2) children Stefan and Angelika. She is currently the President of the Philippine Association of Uppsalla, Sweden. 


45

Villahanons in Canada: 

Meeting the Challenges 

in Their Adopted Country 


BY DR. QUIRINO AGOTE RAGUB 

Villahanons generally think of Canada a welcoming country of vast opportunities. 

In my experience, this notion is true. Canada is truly multicultural and a country 

I can call my own. One’s language and culture are recognized to co-exist with 

others. Such is the tapestry of Canada that includes the uniquely Villahanon 

threads. For these reasons, Canada has now become an adopted country to 

some Villahanons. Yet coming to and settling in Canada posed some major 

challenges to Filipinos, in general, and to a Villahanon like me, in particular.. 

The first challenge- migrating to Canada. While this can be done in several 

ways such as an independent immigrant and a caregiver, or through a provincial 

nomination in Manitoba or by claiming refugee status, the current procedures 

and costs involved can be quite financially prohibitive. However, over a decade 

ago, this wasn’t quite the case. When my wife, GERTRUDES SELUDO LLARENAS- 

RAGUB, moved to Canada in 1990, immigrant admission requirements were more 

relaxed. Back then, no formal six months training was required from applicants 

to the caregiver program. Today, one’s training certificate is not enough to 

guarantee qualification to move to Canada. 

Moving to Canada as a contract worker requires one to stay with the Canadian 

employer for two years. When the two-year contract is completed, one can 

either be released by the employer or be prevailed upon to stay. Most exceptionally 

good workers who agree for an extended period of service with their employers 

are able to negotiate the possibility of sponsoring a relative or sibling to come to 

Canada. After three years of stay in Canada, one can file for the sponsorship 

application for a family member. Because Canada is supportive of family 

reunification, the waiting period for family petitions is not very lengthy for as long 

as the Canadian immigration requirements are met. This is how Villahanons 

grew in number in Canada.

The second challenge- finding employment that is suitable to your Philippine job experience. Canada does not recognize degrees 

earned outside of its borders. Getting your credentials recognized is a very tedious process. I did mine, but I was made to pass through the 

needle’s eye. Every province in Canada has its own licensing body for every profession. And one must be licensed in every province you choose 

to work at. Because of the rigors and hassles of licensing, and for practical economic reasons, many first wave immigrants decided to forego 

of having their credentials recognized and instead opted to take on jobs that were not in line with their educational background and previous 

training and employment. 

This trend in employment continued to such an extent that the Canadian government realized the enormous wastage of 

the human capital potential of immigrants because of the rigorous licensing requirements. It has now started to harness 

and optimize immigrant professionals. Despite this development, opening doors to foreign-trained professionals is still 

often met with opposition. This affects so many Filipinos who had well-paying jobs or lucrative businesses back home, but 

are forced to take on any job to augment family income while living in Canada. 

The third and biggest challenge-coping with homesickness and managing one’s longing for Villa. When my 

wife came to Canada in 1990, our youngest son was only about four years old. On the day of her flight, she didn’t even 

wake our sons up because she couldn’t stand the thought of bidding them goodbye. The pursuit of a better future for our 

children was her driving force and source of determination. Coping with homesickness is costly – the phone bills can be 

enormous. However, most Villahanons don’t care too much about spending on long distance calls, for as long as they 

stay connected with their families back home. Fortunately, advances in communication technology have helped ease the 

homesickness of Villahanons in Canada. 

Everything about Villa is missed so terribly. It is the fervent wish of every Villahanon to go back home in every August to 

attend the fiesta, but work and financial constraints do not make this possible. This longing for home is felt just as 

intensely by us, the Villahanons in Canada. There really is no place like home. There is no place like Villa. 

To cope with our longing for home, Villahanons in Toronto and Ottawa started to celebrate reunions on the Feast of Santa Rosa de Lima every 

August. It began in 1999 when NORA COLLES-CHAWLA together with MARITES OCANA-ORBESO and THELMA OCENAR had the first gathering in Nora’s 

former house in Mississauga. Nora was the first hermana of the fiesta followed by Marites Ocana in 2000. 

In 2001, the celebration was held in Ottawa with GERTRUDES (DING) LLARENAS-RAGUB as the hermana. An image of Santa Rosa de Lima donated 

by MANA ESTRING LATORRE and ‘NAY MELING QUIJANO, and the “Estandarte” donated by MSGR. LUIS LLARENAS were blessed and made the central 

focus of the festivities. This image of Santa Rosa deLima was brought personally by Mana Estring Tan-Latorre when she and son ATAT LATORRE 

came to Canada. The fiesta celebration in Ottawa that year was attended by Villahanons from the United States. MANA CARING PACO and 

husband MANO LINO, RAFFY OBREGON with wife NANETTE came all the way from California; ROMY and ROSIE AMINTOSO-LATORRE came from New 

Jersey; and GINA OBREGON flew in from Texas. 


47


In 2002, it was Toronto’s turn to host the fiesta and it was my niece THELMA OCENAR-COLLES who 

was hermana. In 2003, the celebration was in Ottawa again and my cousin SOL AGOTE-SANTOS 

was the hermana. In 2004, the hermana was TET LATORRE-ARCANGEL followed in 2005 by BERNADETTE 

KATI whose roots are from Villa - the Sabios and the Nacionals. 

In 2006, the fiesta celebration was held in Ottawa and was a dual celebration - the fiesta for 

Santa Rosa de Lima and our 25 th Wedding Anniversary. With the VILLAREAL BAYANIHAN ROAD 

RECONSTRUCTION underway, Ding and I requested our guests to give donations to the road 

reconstruction project in lieu of gifts. Our friends and guests supported our request and we were 

able to generate one hundred thousand pesos for the road project. 

Apart from longing for home, it is also the dream of every Villahanon to see the completion of the 

Villareal Bayanihan Road Reconstruction Project. This government-forsaken nine-kilometer road 

connecting the town of Villareal to the national highway has earned so many names. It was 

called a “Fiesta Road” because it was only in August (the fiesta month) that the cavernous 

potholes are bulldozed and filled with white soft stones. When the rainy days come again, these 

wide potholes become mini ponds that render impossible whatever kind of travel by car and 

motor vehicles. This road was also called “Panaaran” because of the promises of politicians 

during election campaigns. Elections came and went, and the promises of politicians have all 

vanished in thin air. 

During one Villahanon Fiesta in Metro Manila, MAYOR REYNATO (BOY) RAPANAN LATORRE and DIRECTOR 

MARIVEL CAMILON-SACENDONCILLO challenged the Villahanons to take it upon themselves to initiate 

the improvement of the roads since the government had forever turned a blind eye to it. This was 

how the VILLAREAL BAYANIHAN ROAD RECONSTRUCTION PROJECT started. The challenge fired up the 

Manila-based Villahanons, and before long, Villahanons from all over the country and around the 

world wanted to be involved. With dedicated volunteer-service of ELIZABETH GELERA-LATOJA as 

chairperson for solicitation, monetary as well as material donations kept pouring in constantly for 

this road project. Free labor (bayanihan/pintakasi style) was provided by Villahanons in every 

barangay. Even municipal and national employees of the town gave their share of free labor on 

Saturdays. With the concerted efforts and sustained commitment of all Villahanons and friends 

of Villa, we know that the realization of this dream is not far behind. The Villahanons in Canada 

will always be counted on for whatever major project our town will undertake. 

There are not many Villahanons in Canada. In Toronto, there is Nora Colles-Chawla and family; 

Mira Colles-Hassan and family; Tet Latorre-Arcangel and family; Marites Ocana-Orbeso with 

parents Mano Arturo and Mana Lilia Ocana; Bernadette Kati and her sister Elsa Maricris Colles; 

Juanillo Miel and family (whose roots are from Guintarcan); Mana Aday Quijano-Reyes the wife of 

Dr. Jesus Reyes together with their children; and Amparo Ocana.

In Ottawa, there is Sol Agote-Santos with her children 

Josephine Santos-Tapiru and family; William Santos and 

family; Ruel Santos and family; Thelma Ocenar and husband 

Nieto Colles and family; Dandan Llarenas-Ferarris with 

daughters Frances, Glenda with her husband Blanco; Leonila 

and Althea Quejada; the Ragub family with my sons Bap 

and GR; Evelyn Hernandez-Caballero and family; Ethel 

Hernandez and Alice Hermosura-Tagimacruz. 

In Vancouver, there is Belen Hermo Lababo, the sisters 

Marmie and Letlet Fallorina and Nick Alcorroque. In Winnipeg, 

there is Patrocinia Seludo Jerusalem-Paulo and family and 

our latest Villahanon arrivals are Gingging Latorre Tan-Ocenar 

and her husband Gil. 

We may (still) be few in number, but we have a big heart in 

helping Villareal become a progressive municipality and a 

better place to live in and raise the future generation of 

Villahanons. 

No matter how seemingly insurmountable the challenges we face here in Canada, we- strong-willed, determined, self-sacrificing and courageous 

Villahanons- tackle them head on and overcome them. We will not only prevail, we will flourish. This we know because of our love for our dearly 

beloved Villa and our faith in our beloved Patroness, Santa Rosa de Lima. 

Our best wishes and sincerest congratulations to the Fiesta Hermana 2007- DILG Executive Director MARIVEL GELERA CAMILON-SACENDONCILLO 

and DANNY, her very supportive husband. 

MAUPAY UG MALIPAYON NGA PATRON HA ATON NGATANAN! 

Dr. Quirino Ragub is a Villahanon born and raised in Tayud, Villareal, Samar. He is married to the former Gertrudes Seludo Llarenas with whom 

he has two (2) sons, Bernardo Anthony Ponciano (Bap) and GerRino (GR). He was a former Professor with an academic rank of Professor 

6 at the Leyte Normal University in Tacloban City. In his tenure as professor at the University, he assumed various positions as Assistant Dean 

of the Graduate School, Director for Alumni Relations and Department Head for Pre-Elementary Education on, Values Education and Special 

Education. Currently, he is a certified teacher in Ontario, Canada and a principal in a First Nations school in Northern Ontario. His family is happily 

settled in Ottawa. 


49

A Glimpse Of My Hometown 

Marlon Clint Solis-Camilon 

Villareal …. A land where the great hills and uplands meet the calm and beautiful 

seas; a place where the cool winds pass each day to ward off the sun’s heat; where 

the birds freely soar the skies, feeling the rushing wind beneath their wings; and 

where the creatures of the ground enjoy the soothing smell of the mountain air. In 

this place one lives in harmony with nature. A place of abundance and joy. A town of 

exquisite beauty. A place I came to call …home. 

I have lived in this town for seventeen years now. This has become my playground 

and my sanctuary. Within its streets I found people worth-knowing and in them I 

found values of treasure. This town is home. It is priceless not only to me but to 

people living in it as well. I love this town with blazing fervor; like a child to his 

mother. This love drives me to offer whatever it is in my capacity, however modest, to 

make this town a better place. And I am certain that other people feel and would 

gladly do the same. Everyone surely dreams of a town of harmony and prosperity; 

and that dream is not far…. It never was. 


I started out, like everybody else, a creature possessing 

little arms and little limbs: a child with Villa as my 

meadow and my paradise. I ran here and there. I found 

great friends in this little Eden. Friends who played 

and grew up with me Here in this town I felt the freedom 

of the plains and the security of a fortress. And whenever 

I find myself in another place, I have a longing to be 

both free and safe, to be right in my home in Villa. This 

was how I saw my hometown when I was younger. 

A little of me has transformed now that I am in my 

teens. One of these changes is my vision of this town. 

Yes, it is still my paradise, it will always remain so; 

but I come to see far more great treasures in it than 

just the flowers and grasses. Time and experience 

taught me things hidden from my eye but clear and 

stunningly beautiful to my heart. These are the many 

values in every heart of a Villahanon– values that ran 

through the veins of this town, being passed from 

generation to generation through time. This town is 

simply blessed. It produces God-fearing people with 

great faith on a loving God.This makes this town near 

to Him, like a bird soaring high it almost touches the

heaven. Respect and hospitality are other pearls this town 

could be proud of. People here look at a person as a person, 

respecting each other, tolerant of one’s weaknesses and 

accepting of diversity. People open their homes to visitors 

and strangers with smiling faces, making others feel they 

are at home. All these and many other values I found in this 

little sanctuary. And what makes it even more impressive is 

that they do these beautiful things with a shining little crescent 

in their faces, a smile. Saying so, I would say that what 

makes me proud most are not the values themselves, but 

the people who have etched them in their hearts. 

Yes, I am very proud of the people here. This simple town 

produces people of brilliance, with great minds and hearts. 

Priests have been the favorite fruits of this town. For 

generations Villareal has produced priests of exceptional faith 

and talent. Other than priests, this town also has produced 

people bestowed with the gift of arts. People of impressive 

talents and whose skills marvel every observer; every eye 

that sees; every ear that hears, every heart that feels. Painters 

whose pictures showed us the many splendors and difficulties 

of life; musicians who filled our ears with lovely, jolly and 

even nostalgic tunes; and writers whose works taught the 

simple lessons of life and took us to magical places. These are the people who 

add color and meaning to everyday lives. My hometown has also produced 

great minds and leaders with integrity. I myself, at my young age has seen 

some of these people – those who are willing to serve, natural born leaders who 

put others first before them, those who wish to carry the whole town to glory. 

These people of distinction are very much rare to find nowadays, people who 

are like the mighty tall trees. They give shade to the weak, support to the frail 

and agile and promote justice. 

Another group Villa has produced are teachers. They hold in their chalked 

hands the very future of this little sanctuary. In the timid wooden sticks lies the 

discipline and morals of the future citizens of the town. They, more than any 

other person in any other profession, must be looked upon with respect and 

gratitude, for they not only create professionals but they create futures too… 

bright futures. With great pride, I say that our family tree has an abundance of 

teachers in its line. This town does create people who excel in different areas 

and specializations in life, people who become great not only for what they do 

but also for who they are inside 

But what really stands out in all these is the unwavering humility of Villahanons. 

In spite of their innate ability to achieve great things, they keep their feet on the 

ground. They fly, yes, they even soar; yet they never forget to anchor themselves 

in their roots, 

All these things, however modest or 

grand, make my hometown one of a 

kind. These make Villa uniquely 

beautiful to the people living here and 

to those outside. A treasure it will be to 

me and to many others, a shining jewel 

that incessantly illuminates. 

Even as I find myself in many other 

places in my personal journey, there will 

only be one place I call home. . And 

wherever life takes us, we will resolutely 

declare that Viila is our town, our 

priceless treasure, our beloved and 

irreplaceable home. Villareal will always 

be my Villa… my home. 


51

As I journey through life the message of this poem “The Beggar” that I wrote will be my guideposts. 

The Beggar 

By. Marlon Clint Solis-Camilon 

Soryteller: 

A beggar once spoke to the Lord 

Of his tragic life in a cruel world; 

He faced the heavens in a cloudy day, 

Closed his eyes .... and begin to say ..... 

Beggar: 

“Oh Lord! Why did Thou made me this? 

I suffer everytime I see Thy face! 

For it’s unfair, how happy people lived, 

While me, I’m here; I beg to live!” 

“Why do they wear neat clean clothes, 

While mine is ragged, with the smell of dogs? 

Their food is clean, sweet and yum! 

While mine can barely fill a can...” 

“Why did Thou Lord create me 

To live a life of misery 

Am I diufferent form all the others? 

Oh! Am I the lowest of Thy creatures?” 

Story Teller: 

Then lightning flashed and thunder roared; 

Flashes gleamed like shining swords! 

The rivers trembled, the mountains woke; 

And all were silent... as the Almighty spoke..... 


God: 

“Oh humble soul, remember this! 

There is not a single thing thou missed! 

Thou learned to breathe, though learned to speak! 

Thou learned to stand on thy own feet!” 

“Let them wear their neat, fancy clothes! 

Let them have nice delicious foods! 

But thou, just keep thy faithful heart, 

And to thy embrace, thou’ll never be apart!” 

“Here on Earth, thou may seem low! 

But in My kingdom thou art a pharaoh! 

Just keep and take thy sufferings, 

For in My place thou art a King!” 

“So stop complaining about thy life! 

For of all My creatures thou art the type 

who will see the light and be rained with glory, 

And be with Me ....... for all eternity!” 

Storyteller: 

The beggar said not a single word 

He cried and knelt unto the Lord, 

For how foolish of his mouth to complain 

When he is the luckiest in God’s domain!

The author is a college student of the Eastern Visayas State University. He is a son of Marlon Camilon and Cleofe Solis-Camilon. He is a 

winner of the 5th National Essay Writing Contest of the Intellectual Property Office, Office of the President in 2004. 


53


Dream Catchers 

An ancient Chippewa tradition 

The dream net has been made 

For many generations 

Where spirit dreams have played 

Hung above the cradle board 

Or in the lodge up high 

The dream net catches bad dreams 

While good dreams slip on by 

Bad dreams become entangled 

Among the sinew thread 

Good dreams slip through the center hole 

While you dream upon your bed 

This is an ancient legend 

Since dreams will never cease 

Hang this dream net above your bed 

Dream on and be at Peace

A typical Villahanon dreams of progress and believes that it comes faster when you leave Villareal. I was driven by the same belief. Many of us 

who left the comforts of home and family have been proven right. Others have failed miserably because dreaming is not all it takes to succeed. 

During moonlit nights when I was in my teens, I would sit at the pantalan with some of members of the Villareal Youth Crusaders (VYC) and 

imagined the future ahead of us. The VYC was a group of young people, driven with passion for life, energized by the vision of a progressive 

Villareal and commonly motivated by a desire for a better life 

The pantalan served as our park and was witness to many moments of joy and laughter. It was at the pantalan where we had endless 

conversations about school, family and our teenage life… where we dared to dream big. And the pantalan stood still, quietly listening to us when 

we reached for the stars and aspired for things beyond our reach. 

I have always been a dreamer and will never cease to be one. My dreams included that for family, friends, the community and myself. Those 

dreams continued to grow bigger through the years for I ached a better life not only for my community but my country, as well. And in my mind, 

the only way I could fulfill my dreams was through education and a good paying job. 

But dreaming was not enough. 

Achieving it required a formula: SEE, BE, DO and HAVE… then allowing God to take care of the rest. 

SEEing is having a very clear picture of what I want to achieve. 

BEing means committing myself to it. 

Dream Catching in Villareal 

Marivel Camilon-Sacendoncillo 

DOing is about taking concrete steps towards it. 

HAVE ing is capturing and laying hold of it. 

See, Be, Do and Have. These have been my guideposts in my journey. 


55


But through the acid test of life itself, I learned that this is not enough. Divine Providence 

bestows the final touches to my dreams, taking it to its ultimate fulfillment. And the past 

five decades of my life prove that God does so wonderfully. 

As I embarked on my life journey, significant people who helped me define my future 

made SEEing it with a 20-20 vision easy. Foremost among them were my parents who 

helped me weave that future. Tatay use to tell me that I can be bigger than myself; 

consistently challenging me to achieve more than what I thought I could even at a young 

age. As a young girl I thought Tatay did not care to share in my happiness. I remember 

vividly that he never went up the stage every time I received an academic award and was not around to witness my college graduation, though 

I finished it with honors. I took all these against him. But eventually, I realized that Tatay was motivating me to stretch myself, give my very best 

each time, because he recognized that I could do better and achieve more. This realization allowed me to discover that I can be the best in 

whatever I want to be and push my capacities beyond the limits. It led me to see the future with hope and optimism. 

As I created a clear vision and saw it more distinctly, my BEing started to change. I began to see myself differently. I declared to myself that I 

would become the great person that I wanted and was designed to be. Greatness that is not measured by material affluence nor power, but by 

the number of lives I am able to touch and the quality of relationships that I am able to nurture. It was not an easy task because Providence had 

to touch my life first. I did not wait for other people to do it for me. This required a self-assessment of my personal capacities, a review of my life 

values, a recast of the way I related with others and a redefinition of LIFE itself. Many paradigm shifts occurred in this part of my journey. 

However difficult this stage was, I emerged stronger and a whole piece largely because of a person who loved and supported unconditionally to 

the point of marrying me. He is my dear husband Engr. Danilo Jerusalem Sacendoncillo. He was there every step of the way. Our marriage, 

though not perfect, was a partnership that made us better persons. We grew and matured together to solid heights of respect and meaning.

DOing the concrete actions demanded passion, energy, focus and the use of 

my innate talents. It meant working hard, investing in myself, continually learning 

and sacrificing pleasure for productive pursuits. I saw hardships and difficulties 

brought about by poverty and inadequacies not as hurdles but opportunities to 

be and do better. Every obstacle became a venue to be creative and strengthen 

every fiber of my being. There were times when I was tempted to surrender to 

complacency and apathy but my dream for greatness, dreams that started in 

the pantalan in Villa, pulled me through. My family and friends and the memory 

of those who have gone before me- my father, great grandparents, uncles, 

aunts and mentors provided me with the armor to survive and survive well. 

Every time I want to quit, the voices from my roots prod me on: YOU WERE 

BORN A WINNER, SO DON’T QUIT OR SURRENDER. BELIEVE IN 

YOURSELF. These words sustain me still and enable me to conquer my fears 

of defeat halfway in my journey. 

The challenges persist but with certainty victory comes. Every victory is a 

piece of a puzzle in my life’s journey, one marked with exciting possibilities 

and fellow travelers in search of their own destiny. 

HAVing is holding on to and laying hold of my dream. The fire of hope and the beacon of light guide me in this phase of the journey. Here I 

embrace the inspiration to continue and not be discouraged so that I may also inspire others. 

As I journey through life, an important factor is consistently visible – God’s Hand. Every new day for me is a gift from the LORD and a personal 

offering back to Him. Since it is a gift, I use the day optimally, mindful that He always has the final say. I firmly believe that God has gifted me 

with talents and what I do with those talents is my gift to Him. 


57

I AM BECAUSE OF WHAT THE VILLAHANON IS. 

In every Villahanon’s heart is quest for what we were made for… what our heritage is about. A heritage of greatness that we are all proud of. And 

greatness is about our innate capacity as Villahanons to work together for a common cause, exemplified for one by the Bayanihan Road 

Project, An Dalan Ni Sta Rosa. 

As Villa has generously given me the best of what I can dream of, it is time to pay forward… to sustain the tradition of communal greatness, 

honor Villa with our support to its families and barangays and to bring inspiration to future Villahanons. 

I had bad dreams too. Dreams of failures, broken relationships and tragedy. But the dream nets of Villa caught the bad dreams… and let the 

good dreams slip by through the center hole of the moonlit nights in pantalan. As Villareal allowed me as a child to imagine a big and bright 

future, it caught the bad dreams and brought the good ones to pass. 

Villa has and will always be the dream catcher of my lifetime. And I know that the best is yet to come. 

The Author is the Executive Director of the Local Government Academy of the Department of the Interior and Local Government. She is the eldest daughter of Ignacio 

Jumadiao-Camilon and Maria Varela-Gelera. She is married to Engr. Danilo J. Sacendoncillo and was blessed with three children: John Paul, June Marni and Jeremy Daniel. 


Acknowledgement 

My profound thanks to everyone 

who have made this publication 

a reality and a meaningful 

experience for me: 

The contributors 

who provided the substance 

of the book: Mano Umping, 

Tiya Quintina, Mana 

Pureza, Mano Rino, Mano 

Cesar, Mana Ding, Rupert, 

Ruben, Maricon, Terry 

and Clint. 

My mother, 

brothers and 

sisters for 

being part of 

whatever I 

have become. 

The Casimero 

Gelera clan 

and the 

Sacendoncillo 

Family 

for the support. 

Most importantly to all Villahanons 

who provide me the energy to 

continue creating a difference in 

the lives of others. 

Myn Garcia 

for the 

editing 


My LGA family 

for the technical 

help in the lay-out 

specially Iris, 

Donna and 

Flor. 

Danny and 

my children Jaypee, Marni 

and Jeff for inspiring me to 

become greater than I 

thought I can. 

59

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