*337. His College Yearbook: DR. MARIO M. ALIMURUNG

HANDS SALUTE! The future cardiologist, Mario de Mesina Alimurung of Bacolor, as the No. 1 cadet of UST. An artist, a teacher, a writer and a medical researcher, this world-class doctor co-founded the Makati Medical Center together with Dr. Manahan and Dr. Fores in 1969.

The Alimurungs are one of the oldest families of Pampanga, with many members settling in Bacolor. From this family with ancient Muslim roots, comes one of the greatest doctors this country has ever known, a world-class cardiologist and a compassionate healer who went on to become one of the founders of Makati Medical Center: Dr. Mariano de Mesina Alimurung.

 Born on 4 August 1916 in Bacolor, the young Mariano went to St. Mary’s Academy for his early schooling. He next went to Letran for his high school education where he graduated at the top of his class in 1936. He chose to take up Medicine at the University of Santo Tomas and there, too, he became an outstanding student and a scholar. In Manila, the Alimurungs kept house on Dapitan St., just a walk away from the pontifical university where Mariano pursued his medical course, even as he also took up military science.

From being Letran’s Corps Commander, he assumed the same top post at the UST, handling a whole brigade and leading other fellow officers including Carlos Arguelles (future architect), Antonio Delgado (future ambassador) and kabalen Carlos Vergara.

Just 23 years old in this picture, Alimurung was quite a campus figure, be-medalled and brilliant, highly regarded by his peers--both in the military and in the medical field.

After earning his medical degree, Dr. Alimurung specialized in Cardiology and became renowned in his field. On the side, he was also a sports enthusiast (he revived interest in the NCAA during the Japanese Occupation by forming a league composed of former Ateneo, Letran and San Beda players) , a teacher and an ardent Kapampangan writer and cultural activist (in 1977, he resurrected the Circulo Escenico, a zarzuela group of long standing, founded in 1930 by Francisco Liongson).

Dr. Alimurung was one of the founders (along with Dr. Constantino Manahan and Dr. Jose Fores, ) of Makati’s premier hospital--the Makati Medical Center in 1969. He sat as the Chairman of the Department of Medicine, Director of the Coronary Care Unit, and Head of the Cardiology Section. He was also the first and only director of the Office of Medical Education, borne by his interest in medical research and education.

 Though at the start, the reason for building a hospital was driven by enterprise, the deeply spiritual Dr. Alimurung recalled: “Divine Providence works His way in the midst of human decisions and human motivations. He writes straight even with crooked lines and works His will into the mazes of human struggles.”

 The founders’ shared mission, thus was refocused on how to deliver the best healthcare to people-- young and old, rich or poor alike, of whatever economic rank--a lifework that was not lost on the leaders of the Catholic Church.

For his selfless contributions to the Philippine community, Dr. Alimurung was given one of the highest Papal Orders of Chivalry—the Knight Commander with the Star of Gregory the Great and Knight Commander of St. Sylvester I. Recipient of many distinguished awards in his time--Cunning’s Humanitarian Award and Distinguished Fellow Award (from the American College of Cardiology), Distinguished Physician Award (Philippine College of Physicians), Distinguished Service Award (Philippine Medical Association)—Dr. Alimurung’s  dedication to serve humanity never wavered..

Accolades continue to pour even after his death: the Catholic Physicians Guild of the Philippines gave him a Distinguished Service Award while the Philippine Heart Association named him recipient of its Distinguished Teacher Award.

In his memory, the Makati Medical Center Library was renamed the Dr. Mariano M. Alimurung Library. Dr. Alimurung was married to Dr. Natividad Narciso, also a Kapampangan. Their son, Benjie Alimurung, also a medical doctor, recalls his father’s words that he lived by: “At every stage of your career, take stock of where you are and where you have been and these will give you invaluable direction on what you should do and where you should go next.”

Dr. Mariano M. Alimurung certainly lived up to this way of thinking, as evidenced by his singleminded pursuit of finding ways  to give Filipinos a better, healthier life, regardless of their place in society till the very end of his life. This benevolent Kapampangan healer died in 1980.

*336. GAMIT-KUSINA &OTHER KASANGKAPAN

SO YOU THINK YOU CAN COOK? School girls learn the art of cooking and baking uisng more modern kitchen implements and gadgets, in this home economics class. 1920s

In large Philippine homes—there’s a kitchen and then, there’s a dirty kitchen.  While a kitchen is where Mother displays her fine chinaware, gleaming copper pans, bowls, trays, sleek toasters and pantry cabinet, the dirty kitchen is where she and her househelps toil away in front of sooty clay stoves, enveloped by smoke, heat and odors emanating from frying pans and trash cans.

Such was the house that I grew up in—and nowhere was it busier, smellier, more chaotic--than in our dirty kitchen. For here, all sorts of implements, gadgets and strange instruments abound—for cooking, broiling, boiling, grilling, grinding—all designed to help a new homemaker become a top-rate cook.

The basic tools of cooking rest on a narrow, sturdy table called “dalikan”, made of bamboo or planks of wood, with the top, covered with an iron sheet. Here, one can find kalang uling (charcoal clay stove), which rests on 3 stumpy legs (“tungku”). Under the “dalikan”, one can find chopped firewood, used to start a fire in the kalan, with the help of a tsupan (a metal cylinder used to blow air and stoke a fire) and a “sipit” (a pair of thongs to move pieces of wood and charcoal around). A charcoal-fed  “pugun” or a clay/earth oven, was permanently set in the kitchen for baking breads.

On top of the “kalang”, one can use different pots and pans, depending on what you are cooking. Before the advent of rice cookers, the basic “kuran” with a lid is used to cook the perfect rice. It is also used to cook favourite viands and soups like “adobo, tinola and sinigang”. The metal “kawali”, made of cast iron, is ideal for frying, with the help of an all-purpose “siyansi”.

To boil water, one uses a kettle (“tekwan”) of aluminum, copper or brass. I still have my late Ingkung  brass pan with a rounded bottom and a wooden handle used for boiling water and eggs. He called it “pohiya”, a term that nobody seem to use, except us! Another brass container was the tsokolatera, a small pitcher where homemade chocolate was prepared. A wooden batirul was hand-turned to whip up a frothy, hearty drink.

Those craving for grilled foods like “ningnang babi, bangus o balasenas” had to use a “parilya” (a gridiron of thick wire) over live embers . Basting was done using a brush made of bamboo stick and banana leaves. Large-scale cooking once entailed the use of steel vats—kawa—which came in extra large sizes, good enough for a pig to fit in. I still see a few “kawas” these days—only in landscaped gardens, where they are used for accents.

Raw ingredients were either crushed or powdered in a stone “dikdikan”  or "daldakan", which consisted of a small mortar (asung) and a pestle (alung). Ground rice was turned into sticky  galapong using a stone “gilingan”, that had a hole on top into which rice and water was fed. A handle was turned manually around and around until the galapong emerges from a spout and is collected for making kakanins—sampelut, bibingka, sapin-sapin, bobotu.

Native trivets, we call “lakal”—made of bamboo, woven to form a ring, on which a pot can be made to rest. Placed over one’s head, the “lakal” helps an ambulant vendor  steady an “igu” or a “bitse” (woven winnowing trays) filled with local delicacies, while she goes walking around the neighbourhood.

Food was served on plates (“pinggan”) made of enamelled tin or cheap ironstone imported from England. Special viands for a crowd of hungry guests were put in deep “pasung Intsik”, which had the shape of flower pots, but without holes. I remember these glazed pots which we brought out from our “lansena” for use only during fiesta time. they were dark brown in color with a light brown band at the top, decorated with stylized dragon designs.

To scoop anything from a container, there’s the sanduk bican (scooper/ ladle) fashioned from a coconut shell. When holes were drilled onto the ladle, the sanduk becomes a “panyalak”or a sieve. Water dippers made use of almost the whole shell, fastened to a long wooden handle. Back then, any visitor can cool his thirst off with a free welcome drink. All he had to do was to take a water-filled dipper filled from a big clay jar –banga--that stood in front of houses. Cockleshells were often thrown into the banga to maintain the clarity of the water.

Other clay jars in a household include the narrow mouthed  ”oya”, “balanga” (for storing dishes), “gusi”( glazed pot with handles), “tapayan”( a water jar outfitted with a faucet). These often were set on the “banguerra”. Uneaten food or leftovers were stored in a paminggalan, a small pantry cabinet with slats to let air in.

Today, a wide assortment of high-tech kitchen gadgets have been invented to improve kitchen efficiency and convenience: from electric mixers, juicers, steamers to  microwave ovens and grillers. But for yesteryear's homemakers,  nothing beats the fruits of hard labor--whether it is turning a gilingan with sheer muscle power or pounding rice for hours--for it is believed that this is the only way that she can fully bring out life's many flavors.

*335. AY, KABAYO!: The Horse in Our Pop Culture

 

LET'S DO THE HORSEY-HORSEY! My dad (R) and younger sibling Manuel (L) pose with their all-purpose family horse at home. My grandfather used to ride this horse when inspecting his farmlands, but it was also used for leisurely ride around the backyard by the brothers. Ca. 1930.

Next to the carabao, the lumbering beast of Philippine farmlands, the fleet-footed horse, or kabayo, ranks as another favored animal prized for its beautiful form and function. For many a busy hacendero in Pampanga, owning a horse was a must, for its varied uses—as a means of transport and conveyance, a trusty steed heroes rode in times of war, an animal enjoyed for recreation and leisure, as well as a prized status symbol.

A picture of my father and his sibling exist in one of our old albums, showing off their small, but fine steed. I never bothered to ask the name of their family horse, which I assumed, was used by my Ingkung in checking out his farm holdings in Bundagul and Mabiga. I bet my father and my uncle rode this horse all around the spacious backyard, and maybe even around town. The horse was kept in my granduncle’s house next door, perhaps in his spacious garage. The horse was most definitely tended by Tatang Simon, my father’s family driver.

 The horse was never an ideal animal for our wet farmlands—the damulag which could efficiently plow through mud was perfect for the job. In Europe, however, the horse ruled the dry wheat fields of Europe. Even then, the horse has managed to find a special place in Philippine pop culture.

“Kabayo”, is derived from the Spanish word “caballo”, and to this day, we call it as such, whether dappled, spotted or tan. In those times, many horse driven carriages were a convenient way to move around the country. In Manila, there were the ‘quilez” (a one-horse rig), the “tartanilla” (2 wheeled horse carriage) and the horse-drawn “tranvia”.

 During the Hispanic era, the art of horsemanship was integrated in the grand dances of old Pampanga. As a striking musical preface to the spectacular balls, it was said that Kapampngans danced the rigodon on horseback to display their equestrian skills and to flaunt their fine steed, fit for royalty.

 In and around the provinces like Pampanga, the more humble “karomata”and “kalesa”were more popular, their arrival announced by the pleasant tinker of the calesa bell and the rhythmic trot of the horse, with blinders and leather harness, arrayed with silver bridles, decorations and plumed headdress. To this day, the horse-drawn kalesa, though handful in number, continues to ply the dusty side roads of many Kapampangan towns, alongside jeeps and trikes.

 The animal has enriched our local culture, belief system and language; there are local adages that refers to the handsome steed, to wit: “Ing cabayung e queca, paburen me qng lacad na”(Leave a horse that is not yours, to trot along, read; Mind your own business). Another one goes, “Ïng cabayung alang rienda, capilitan managuinis ya” (A horse with no reins will be forced to bite). 

Philippine riddles make allusions too, to the horse: “Kabayu ng Adan, e mangan nung eme sakyan” (Adam’s horse will not eat unless you ride on it. Ans.: coconut grater). A more cryptic riddle runs: “Ing buntuk na kabayo, ïng batal na pari, ing katawan na ulad, ing bitis na lagari.” (It’s got the head of a horse, the neck of a priest, the body of a worm, the feet of a saw. Ans.: Locust).

 Around the house, there are domestic objects that refer to the horse. The animal gave its name to the old folding wooden ironing boards that resembled the 4-legged creature--the ‘pakabayu”. In the 19th century, children played “juego de anillo”, a game in which they attempted to collect hanging rings with a wooden sword while riding hobby horses of sticks. “Kabayuan” is to ride the back of a playmate in a horseplay, while “mangabayu”refers to the horse rider. Ironically, despite the graceful form and handsome figure of the horse, to be called “lupa kang kabayu” (to have the face of the horse) was tantamount to being called ugly.

Blame it on the horrific image of the “tikbalang", that huge cigar-smoking, tree-sitting denizen of Philippine folklore who took the shape and features of a horse, albeit elongated and uglier looking. The movies too, perpetuated the image of a laughable horse—as in the 1958 fantasy film about a talking horse, “Silveria, Ang Kabayong Tsismosa”, starring Dolphy. Why, even a comedian became famous in the 80s because of his resemblance to a horse—“Ritchie D’Horsie”.

 Richard III may have lost his life and kingdom for a horse, but this trusty animal has existed long enough to witness the gallantry of men and heroes: Bucephalus led Alexander the Great to his many conquests, Rocinante followed Don Quixote to his many adventures and an unnamed white steed of the young boy general, Gregorio Del Pilar accompanied him to his martyrdom. In recent memory, a world-class horse raced to glory with Kapampangan equestrienne Mikee Cojuangco’s gold medal winning performance at the 2002 Asian Games in Busan, Korea.

 Loyal, dependable and trustworthy, our equine friend has certainly managed to gallop its way into our hearts, homes and history.

*334. Pampanga's Schools: DON HONORIO VENTURA TECHNOLOGICAL STATE UNIVERSITY, Bacolor

ESCUELA PRACTICA DE ARTES Y OFICIOS DE BACOLOR. The newly reconstructed trade school, as it appeared in 1909. Damaged during the Revolution, the school was rebuilt using funds donated mostly by the native elite of the town. Today, Don Honorio Ventura Technological State University is a premiere technological university of the region. Luther Parker Collection, 1909.

While the Americans are recognized for reforming Philippine public schools, the Spaniards are credited for founding the first trade schools of the country, starting with the vision of Augustinian P. Juan Zita to help young but underprivileged youths of Bacolor. Bacolor’s elite, led by Don Felino Gil, donated the land and raised funds for the establishment of a school devoted to manual training and education. Thus was opened the Escuela Practica de Artes y Oficios de Bacolor, in 4 November 1861.

Initially, the school offered courses in carpentry, furniture making, ironworks and other practical arts, until the operations were interrupted by the Philippine Revolution. The school was converted to an ammunitions plant that supplied the Republican army with guns and bullets. The school sustained heavy damage as a result.

The school reopened in 1905 as Bacolor Trade School. Now under the Americans, the school underwent major reconstruction from 1906-07 at a cost of Php 12,000. At the grand inauguration of the new edifice, distinguished guests like former Gov. Ceferino Joven and Acting Director G.N. Brink, plus prominent members of both local and the American community graced the occasion that culminated in a lavish ball.

American instructors were at the helm of the school, teaching carpentry, wood craft, furniture making, weaving and embroidery. It was once again renamed to Pampanga Trade School in 1909. In 1911, the school observed its 50th anniversary, a milestone that was marked with yet another festive celebration held on 4 November.

A secondary curriculum that included Building Construction for boys and Domestic Science for girls was offered in 1922. Recognized as a regional trade school and renamed as Pampanga School of Arts and Trade, it added technical education courses in 1957. Pres. Diosdado Macapagal signed a decree in 1964, officially changing the name of the school to Don Honorio Ventura Memorial School of Arts and Trades (DHVMSAT) in honor of philanthropist Don Honorio Ventura, a native son of Bacolor who once helped Macapagal financially as a struggling student.

In 1978, under provincial governor Estelito P. Mendoza, the school became a state college. Curricular expansion led to the offering of courses such as Industrial Education, Engineering, Architecture and Home Economics. Masteral degrees were likewise offered in such fields as Public Administration, Education, Educational Management as wells as a Doctorate in Education in 2003. 

In June 2009, a house bill sponsored by Congressman Aurelio D. Gonzales, Jr.that called for the school’s conversion into a technological state university was passed and approved, that paved the way for the passage of a Senate Bill sponsored by Sen. Lito Lapid. On 9 December 2009, then Pres. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo signed Republic Act 9832, finally declaring the school as Pampanga's first and only state university—the Don Honorio Ventura Technological State University.

From its humble beginnings, DHVTSU has grown by leaps and bounds, yet it continues to hold fast to its original mission envisioned over one hundred and fifty years ago--to keep the flame of technology alive so it may be used to improve lives, and enrich the future.

*333. OH, WHEN THE JETS COME FLYING IN

LIVING IN A “SONIC BOOM” TOWN. An FW-640 plane lands in Clark, one of the "guardians of Philippine defense". 1959.

In the days of Clark, not so long ago, we, from Mabalacat, would find ourselves being rudely waken and shaken up at odd hours of the day by the loud and intense aerodynamic noise created by jets flying overhead. Our roofs would rattle, dogs would bark, chickens would cackle and our ears would be attacked by the unbearable noise generated by these bad-ass birds taking off from Clark. To this day, many can't forget those noisy days of yore, prompting even top Kapampangan artist, Andy Alviz, to immortalize the jet plague that rocked Mabalacat in one of his songs.

Mabalacat was in the direct path of these various aircrafts—F-4, F-5, F-18s fighter jets mostly—and especially in the Vietnam years, the noise pollution they created was a major economic bane to the town. They were the reasons, local folks say, why the egg industry failed to prosper in Mabalacat as no hen could produce eggs under such noisy, disturbing nerve-wracking conditions.

The noise barrage from Clark’s aircrafts intensified even further with the launch of the Cope Thunder program, introduced by Brig. Gen, Richard G. Head in 1976. It was an immersion exercise conceived to give all American air personnel stationed in Asia their first taste of combat in a realistic training environment. The program was initiated in Clark, which meant the participation of hundreds of planes in the simulated air combat exercises. The take-off point these aircrafts was, of course, Clark.

The low-flying, high speed military jets produced ear-shattering noises that became even louder as the aircraft increased its speed. The density of the air at low attitudes heightened the deafening roar of the jets. Over the years, Mabalaqueños learned to live with the sonic booms that occasionally cracked glass panes, shook windows and doors, interrupted afternoon naps and terrified babies. Surprisingly, other than these mishaps, there were no major incidents reported all throughout the time the Americans were in Clark—not until 2 May 2002.

That morning, a Philippine Air Force F-5 fighter jet, manned by Capt. Daniel Teodoro Policarpio of Basa Air base, crashed into a residential areas in Mabalacat, Pampanga, killing the pilot instantly and injuring at least 10 people. The plane—acquired from the U.S. way back in 1965—was about to land at Clark Air Base, when it exploded—with most of its parts crashing at the Mabalacat Elementary School, and the rest of the debris, strewn around populated areas of barangay San Joaquin.

Injured on the ground were Mabalaqueños Jess Rivera, Junior de la Cruz (janitor of the school) and a certain Virginia Garcia. The school and some houses were also razed and damaged. As a result of the ill-fated crash, Air Force Chief Benjamin Defensor grounded the 9 remaining F-5 fighter jets of the Philippine Air Force.

The hasty departure of the Americans in 1991 due to the Pinatubo eruptions have not completely silenced Mabalacat skies. For one, the regular RP-US Balikatan joint military exercises call for air combat simulations which necessitate the launching of fighter planes, Phantom jets, choppers, ABDR birds and what have you-- at some given time in the year.

The opening of the Diosdado Macapagal International Airport has also resulted in the influx of commercial airlines, increasing air traffic and noise over Pampanga’s newest chartered city. Though the problem today is not as pronounced, Mabalacat is still susceptible to the “necessary inconveniences” of being a travel hub. Still, pardon the puns, it is hope that Mabalacat will rise above the din, as it soars to become Pampanga’s next ”sonic boom” city.

*332. Hands on the Future: LEARNING THE INDUSTRIAL ARTS

OUT ON THE FARM. Young farmers pose for a pcture before the Domestic Science building of Mexico Elementary School. Ca. 1920s.

In revamping the curriculum of Philippine schools, emphasis was given by American teachers to subjects called Industrial Education (for boys) and Domestic Science (for girls).

To improve the basic motor skills of children, schools started offering vocational and manual training, teaching boys handicrafts, carpentry, weaving, toymaking and gardening.

On the distaff side, girls were trained on home arts that included sewing and embroidery,  marketing, cooking and house cleaning (yes, there is a systematic process in waxing and buffing floors!).

I was one of the hapless students of the 1960s who took up this required subject at Mabalacat Elementary School, which was quite an ordeal to finish. First, I was never handy with tools, and second, I hated gardening under the hot sun. I was eventually exempted from the subject because of my fragile health, but relief would not come easily; I was cross-posted in the Home Economics class of the girls where I ended up peddling snacks from room to room.

 Students have no one to blame but Harvard graduate Fred W. Atkinson, who, in 1902, was appointed as General Superintendent of Public Instruction in the Philippine Islands by Gov, Gen. William Howard Taft. The 35 year old former high school principal quickly reformed the school system—imposing the use of English as the language of instruction, the importation of teachers (known today as Thomasites), and of course, the integration of industrial and domestic arts in the elementary level curriculum.

 As was expected, the importance of the subject was lost on Filipino parents who sent their children to school—in the first place--to save them from a life of hard, manual labor. Unpopular with teachers, Atkinson was dismissed and was assessed as a failure. He was replaced by David Prescott Barrows who included the education-deprived barrios in his goal to develop a ‘cultured peasantry’. He re-skewed the emphasis on academic subjects, like Reading, Writing, Grammar and Spelling. He argued that manual training will only chain Filipinos to a life of peonage.

 But of course, Industrial Arts continued to be taught in primary schools all the way to the 70s and 80s. Manual training subjects became less and less laborious, in the case of needlework and drafting. Garden plots gave way to new school wings and Home Economic buildings were either knocked down or adapted for re-use as spare classrooms, until the subject of practical home arts was no more.

 My manual dexterity has not improved a bit in my use of a simple coping saw and hammer. Nor am I exactly a green thumb today. But for sure, the training has given me a better appreciation of the skills and efforts of people who use their hands for a living—from the anloagues, pandays, masons, cocineras, modistas and bordaderas of yesteryears to the talented Kapampangan furniture makers, culinary masters, potters, parol makers, and landscape gardeners of today. In their deft hands, they shape the future of our commercial, industrial and agricultural progress.

*331. IN THE SWIM OF THINGS

SINK OR SWIM.  Every summer, Kapampangans beat the heat by going to their favorite swimming holes, like this Sta. Rita teen in a period swimsuit posing before a natural pool. Ca. 1920s From the Gosioco Album, CKS copy.

The heat of summer is upon us, and amidst this stifling sizzle, we find ways to fight off the searing temperature. Many find welcome relief in going to air-conditioned malls or theatres, while others choose to cool off with a tall glass of Razon’s halo-halo and maybe, a refreshing iced buco juice or melon shake from a roadside stall. Still, for some, the best way to beat the heat is to find a watering hole or a pool to go swimming in.

 Before the advent of modern water resorts and their fancy swimming pools, Kapampangans living by the banks of the Gran Rio de la Pampanga fended off summer heat by simply take a dip in the shallow portions of the river and swim with the slow current for a kilometer or two. Picnickers, on the other hand, preferred the baños (baths) of Arayat-- swimming holes fed with the cooling spring waters that descended from the mountains.

For many Kapampangan youths in the 20s and 30s, Arayat was the equivalent of Antipolo, its forested slopes offering a shady refuge, dotted with many natural pools believed to contain medicinal properties. The baths of Arayat would soon be expanded and organized into the Mount Arayat National Park, a protected recreational area that continues to operate today.

Magalang benefitted from its proximity to Arayat, as the town too, had many natural swimming pools that were regularly visited by local townsfolk and tourists from nearby provinces. Similarly, in Mabalacat, Mascup River in Barrio Bana was also a favorite camping and swimming spot by excursionists during summer vacations. Entrance was always free.

As far back as the 1900s, the more adventurous American servicemen stationed at Camp Stotsenburg, delighted in the wild, rampaging waters of Bamban River. Whole troops regularly went to swim here to escape the tropical heat, but swimming was always a challenge as the river was crammed with stones and large boulders. In Porac, Mayamit Falls was another option, but the arduous trip to the waterfalls is not for the faint-hearted.

Early swimming pool resorts made their appearance in Angeles in the late 30s. Paradise Resort was a favourite summer haunt. Standard swimswear included bloomers for women and one-piece swimsuit for men. In Abacan, Balibago, the Del Rosario Swimming Pool opened to the public in 1958. It featured an adult pool with a diving board and two kid-sized pools and were always full-packed with families during the summer break.

The housing boom in the 60s also resulted in the establishments of residential villages with their own clubhouses and exclusive pools. Villa Angela was one such subdivision, and I would remember swimming in the village pool along with the fathers of Sacred Heart Seminary. Marlim Mansion, located at Severina Subdivision in Balibago, was one of the first high-rise hotels to feature a swimming pool as part of its modern facilities. By the mid 70s, Olympic size pools were the standard in Forest Park in Angeles and Yap Park in Dau.

Today, of course, water sports facilities abound in Pampanga with dizzying modern features and themes to cool the hot and harried Kapampangan. In Fontana, Clark Field, there are water slides and pools with machine-generated waves. Clearwater offers more than just swimming, but also kayaking. In Apalit and Mexico, I have seen water resort complexes with fantasy themes that are more like amusement parks than swimming places. Why, we even have our own Boracay in Pampanga, aptly named Poracay!

So when the next heat wave strikes, look around—there’s always a body of water near you: a river, a brook, a resort club or a village pool. Get into your swimsuit, grab a rubber tire, and plunge right in!