PANDEMYA: The Southern Scholar Literary Folio, July 2022

PANDEMYA PANDEMYA

TABLE OF C HEROES OF PANDEMIC

10

BANANA

10

WAITING

16

PLAY

16

GAME OF LIFE

8

ZERO

11

MODULES

12

THE STRONG ARE WEAK THE WEAK ARE STRONG

14

FOR THE UNKNOWN

17

DON’T FOGET ME

18

TO NEVERLAND

19

SURVIVE

20

CONTENTS 22 CHAPTER FIFTY ONE 24

NEW FEELINGS

25

UPS AND DOWNS

26

MANGINGISDA

28

GRIEF

32

PANDEMIC KIDS

30

PUKOT

30

TARSIER

31

DUWAAN

34 PASADA SA PAMILYA

36

WHEN THE FLOWERS USED TO BLOOM

31

BAROTO

EDITORS’ NOTES

T

he unexpected occurrence of COVID-19 has caused many undesired changes to everyone. Our lives have been forever altered in these past 2 years. Lots of people suffered from the virus and many lost their family, friends, and loved ones just because of a tiny thing that our eyes can’t even see. But the past is past. After 2 years of dark chapters in our life, we are welcoming new changes. Some will say that everything will get back to normal. In reality though, we will never go back to the “old” normal. Instead, we are now experiencing what they call the “new normal.”

I, as the Editor-In-Chief, along with the editorial board and staff of The Southern Scholar, proudly present to you this portfolio, made by those who experienced the unlit pages of life. As we are starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel, may we embrace the next chapters of our lives, this so-called new normal, brought by PANDEMYA.

JOSH F. ALMONTE EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

I

t is with great honor to bring this portfolio of thoughts and sentiments of our fellow USPians to life.

With the perseverance of our beloved Editor-InChief, Josh F. Almonte, and the rest of the staff of The Southern Scholar, we were able to understand and anthologize the voices of the USPian community amidst these trying times.

SARAH MAE M. ABUHAN ASSOCIATE EDITOR

The heartfelt literary pieces in this portfolio that you have in your hands now are symbolic pieces of the truth and the life that some of us have been exposed to. Upon reading, you will be welcomed and embraced by the following: overwhelming emotions ranging from despondency to gaiety, a close look from a first person’s perspective to a third one, and a puzzling shift from freestyle poetry to a structured one. Chaotic? Maybe. But does it reflect life? Absolutely. This may not be the usual news-themed report that the publication always makes, but this portfolio is a reflection of what The Southern Scholar always advocates: the voices of the USPian community.

HEROES OF PANDEMIC ILLUSTRATION BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

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BANANA PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Behold Banana Known source of high potassium Their source of income HAIKU BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

WAITING PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

There was once a man Who waits for the sun To rise in the west And set in the east Has it ever begun?

POETRY BY ANTOINE JOY MONTACALVO

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ZERO POEM BY CANDICE SALUBRE ART BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

When the clock hits zero Time goes back to spring Where wind supports hero Smile and laughter ring Watching the sun setting Regrets coming back Words spoken by me sting Unshown love I lack Withering of flip book The form I once want Woe, we refuse to look Memories that haunt The arm, now, hits zero Where fare don't end well Unforeseen halo Now, know what is hell

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MODULES POETRY AND PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

ABCD Oh, what a life you gave to me, EFG Will this pencil be able to change me?

HIJK I keep telling myself I’m okay, LMNOP Cry not, a bright future lies ahead of me.

QRS Work hard, and God will do the rest, TUV Thank you Ma for helping me study.

WX What will I do next?

YZ Life was not easy.

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THE STRONG ARE WEAK AND THE WEAK ARE STRONG POETRY AND PHOTO BY ANTOINE JOY MONTECALVO She used to think she’s a human of strong mind

For she was strong, now she is weak Feeble, frail, and not unwell as we speak

She used to barge into all the struggles in life She used to think she is as brave as a lioness Used to believe in her unbreakable prowess

One day she woke up and everything’s not how it is before

But that’s okay because the strong can be weak too Just like sometimes the weak forces courage to come to The strong are weak and the weak are strong

Her mind was hazy and blur, not thinking clear Our anxieties aren’t our identification anymore

That’s when she realized she’s not the strong- The strong are weak when they hide their est one out there emotions She’s as weak as a mouse and everything And the weak are strong for crying out their goes under pain Our mental health does not define who we She stares at the world slowly coming back to are as a person life Breakdowns aren’t downfalls; just trivial apBut there she was, stuck in her own bubble as paritions the time pass

The people around her are gradually taking their lives back

The strong can be weak when they want to be

Yet there she was, on the starting line, so much behind the pack

As the weak can pour their hearts out too, that I guarantee That’s alright; everything’s gonna be okay

She tries and tries and tries again Her voice unheard, her mind screaming

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As long as we’ll never forget that we’re all worthy.

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PLAY PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

A child will always want to play and laugh; but to live is his unquestionable right POETRY BY ANTOINE JOY MONTECALVO

THE GAME OF LIFE PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Who wins or loses?

Life is a constant battle.

We’re all just players.

HAIKU BY ANTOINE JOY MONTECALVO

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FOR THE UNKNOWN POETRY BY SARA MAE MAGISTRADO ABUHAN I write for the unknowns lurking in my heart.

The heart tells me what the unknown will be.

Tomorrow it will be the sentiment of the rising sun, and the next day it will be a sad sensation as it sets— but it will always be the future.

I write for the unknown colors that I’ll see.

I’ll say that I am black today, but I find myself

wanting to be yellow: I find myself wanting to be happy.

I write for the sake of the unknown songs of every soul.

The voices that were never heard, became songs as it grows longer and longer but never gone.

I write to be empty.

To be free of these ugly frustrations.

To be free from the unknowns lurking in my heart.

To be from the unknowns that tomorrow may bring.

I write for you, my unknown.

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Don’t forget me POEM BY ASHLEY JANE GONATO TRAJANO When the pandemic ends And we are all free We go one by one We fly like a bee

When we are back to face-to-face classes And you are back to hiding behind those glasses We will feel like we missed an entire year When really we were just here

When we go our separate ways Perhaps forever Will you still stop by that store And think about our last encounter?

When we are older and more mature I wish you remember me And this time Please be sure

When this year ends And we graduate Just know that just like quarantine, For you too, I will wait

When given an opportunity to express myself I take this one as the one chance For me to jump off the bookshelf And ask you for one last glance

When the pandemic ends And we are all free We’ll lose our friendship So please, don’t forget me.

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TO NEVERLAND Poem by Sara Mae Magistrado Abuhan Art by Josh F. Almonte

He told me that he always imagined himself as Peter Pan. I never asked him what he pictured me as, but I always try to be with him, to the neverland he dreamed of.

Alas! I find myself always chasing him.

His words.

His thoughts.

His eyes.

His dreams.

And then he asked me if I wanted to fly.

I said no.

If he will give me wings, then I can fly, If I can fly with him, then I will wish to never land.

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SURVIVE POETRY AND PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE Oh, what an unfortunate world I've been

They hold pen and paper

While I collect bottles of water, Like a beaver Building a house in the river.

Children of the same age Feasting their snacks from their parent’s wages, While I'm struggling to find some penny

To fill my empty belly.

Oh, what an unfortunate world I’ve been

They are sitting in their room As cold as Antarctica, While I was wandering in streets

Enduring the scorching heat from hell.

Comparing their way of life I can say that I'm the less fortunate, For they are studying for their future While I'm struggling to survive the present.

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CHAPTER FIFTY ONE POETRY BY ABELLA, THERESE PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

I often ask, “what was wrong with me?”

it hurt my heart to such point that it’s never ‘I’ that get to get chosen. what is it that the other has that i don’t have? is there, something that i needed to do to be the one? should i have not wished?

Then again, i had thought, i guess this was better

to be hurt by love that is bearable, than to be hurt by a death of a love one long gone.

This way, i don’t get to think of the pain of losing someone that I’ll never see in my life, but a pain that i can easily ignore with coldness filling in my heart that no longer longed for love.

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is this how i end all the warm love i have in my heart? to give up hoping and wishing for a love that truly never existed in the first place? for in the first place, i should not have opened my heart again when i met you.

but thank you, for giving me a slimmer of hope

and making me realize, what i should have done in the beginning thank you for giving me the chance to have felt warmth, even if it was for a short while.

goodbye, to the warmth i have left of my heart. it’ll never see pain again from a love that never existed.

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NEW FEELINGS POETRY BY AINE N. ORILLANEDA ART BY JOSH F. ALMONTE What do I do? I'm at home and alone

Meaning I can do many things on my own Maybe even start potting plants No, perhaps I should learn how to dance?

A feeling of not knowing what to do next Should be really classified as a new illness After all, it leaves people completely perplexed

This feeling of indecisiveness

Often times I think I'm procrastinating But really, it's because I find many things fascinating I mean with so much to do, how could I ever choose?

There's so much to pursue Do I really know what I want Maybe I'm just confused What shall I ever do?

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UPS AND DOWNS POETRY BY SAMANTHA KHU ART BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Was with you since Day 1 Even before the world was Tainted by rat's blood

Was with you during the plague Yet you still gave me more reasons to ache

Couple of times you dragged me with you Through ups and downs I was giving you all that I can do

And yet, I still feel so blue

Now days gone by since that fateful day Now I'm ready to let go without a word nor a say

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MANGINGISDA POETRY BY MARC THOM SANCHEZ ATABAY PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Perlas ng silanganan, ikay lubos na pinagpala Agos ng alon sa tenga'y nakakahalina.

Sa paglubog ng araw sa dakong silangan, tanging gabay ang mga tala.

Isang hudyat na palalaot na naman Sa buhay ang simpleng mangingisda, Sa bangkang kay liit, malaking pag-asa'y nakakabit.

Lambat na kay bigat sakay sa bangkang marikit, Susuong sa alon na may basbas ng langit Upang tiyak na sa hapag ng pamilya'y may biyayang bitbit.

Sa pagsikat ni haring araw, May amang nakangiti,

Tanaw ang anak na naghihintay sa tabi Ng dalampasigang daungan ng masaganang huli.

Pagod na katawa'y pilit na isasantabi Batak man ang katawan sa buong gabi Ang mahalaga'y sa laban ng buhay sa laot, dakilang mangingisda'y wagi.

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GRIEF POETRY BY MARIVIC RAMONAL PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Tonight, like many other nights, sleep eludes me My mind wanders restlessly, Like the aimless vagabond that has lost his zeal for life.

Tears are like the summer’s storm, Drenching my face with bitter tears.

The phantom pain wrenching, Like splinters that skew my gut.

My sorrowful soul bears the heaviest burden In its weight, I am upended Detached in melancholy I lie here alone.

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PUKOT PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Ang akong pukot Makakuha og isda Wala koy kuha HAIKU BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

TARSIER PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Budlat nga mata Gamatoy nga mananap Tutoki jud ko HAIKU BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

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DUWAAN PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Bangka nga gamay Gigama sa amahan Nalipay jud ko HAIKU BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

BAROTO PHOTO BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

Tulo ka bata Misakay og baroto Sege of bugsay HAIKU BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

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PANDEMIC KIDS STORY AND ART BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

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It's morning in the city. As I woke up, I saw sunlight passing through our tattered and rusty roof into my eyes, which made me close my eyes again. I got out of my bed, made from the thick cardboard we got from the streets. I quickly ran into the bathroom to take a bath and get dressed. As I got out of my room, I saw Mama preparing coffee for Papa, who was reading newspapers on the table while smoking a cigar. I greeted them good morning and sat beside Papa, then grabbed a pandesal and Milo to eat.

“Here’s your hot water, Dong,” Mama said as she gave me my mug filled with hot water.

Mama sat in front of us while I was putting Milo in my mug and the three of us ate breakfast. As I was about to finish my last piece of bread, I heard my friends shouting.

“Dong! We are here, we’re gonna be late for school, Let's go!”

I quickly got up from my seat and rushed toward my room.

“Dong, finish your bread,” Mama shouted.

“I’ll be back there, Mama,” I replied while packing up my things.

I finished packing and immediately returned to the dining table and ate my last piece of bread. While my bread was still in my mouth, I hugged both of my parents and rushed toward my friends, who have been waiting for me for several minutes.

“You took so much time, we waited here for several minutes already,” Kokoy said.

“I bet you woke up late, Dong,” Franco added.

All of us laughed while they pushed my body on all sides.

I said, “Sorry, guys, if you waited too long for me.

Next time I'll wake up early so that you guys won't wait too long for me.”

“It’s okay, Dong, we’re friends, remember? And friends will wait for each other, right?” Ondoy said.

“Of course!” all of us replied.

The four of us started to walk toward our destination, carrying our bags with a lot of things.

“Franco, did you bring your assignment today?

Can I copy it?” Kokoy asked.

“Of course, Kokoy, I'll let you copy my assignment,” Franco said. “Just don’t copy it entirely, okay?” he added.

“Hey, Dong, did you bring some water? I forgot to bring my water. Can I ask for some water from you?”

Ondoy asked.

“Sure, Ondoy!” I replied.

As we were about to reach the highway, I realized that we had forgotten to wear a mask.

“Hey, guys, wear your mask,” I said to them.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to wear it also,” Kokoy laughed.

The four of us stopped in the middle of our walk and put on our masks. Both Kokoy and Franco wore newly bought KN94 masks, while Ondoy and I wore used cloth masks, which were washed after every use.

“Ondoy, Dong, why are you still wearing that kind of mask?” Franco asked.

“We didn’t have enough money to buy a surgical mask,” Ondoy replied. “A surgical mask is a waste of money, you’ll just throw it after you use it,” Ondoy added.

Kokoy and Franco agreed with what Ondoy said.

We continued walking when Kokoy pat my shoulders and said, “If I become successful, I will buy you a surgical mask.”

“No, it will be much more expensive. but thank you,” I replied.

Ondoy suddenly raised his head, took a heavy breath while looking up to the sky, and said, “Hopefully this pandemic will stop, I can’t breathe properly with this mask!”

The three of us laughed.

“Pandemic is such a hell, if only it didn’t happen,” I complained.

After several minutes of walking, we finally reached the highway, the four of us took a short stop at the corner to drink some water.

“So this is it, guys, we’ve arrived at the highway,” Franco said.

“It’s time for us to go our separate ways,” Ondoy replied.

The four of us gave each other a hug, Kokoy and Franco took a left turn to go to school, while Ondoy and I took the opposite.

“So this is it, my friend,” I said.

“Yeah... Good luck on finding some scraps. I hope you’ll earn a lot today, Dong,” Ondoy replied.

“You too, Ondoy.”

“Let's play marble games this afternoon, Dong,” Ondoy shouted.

“Yeah! Call Kokoy and Franco as well,” I replied.

Ondoy gave a thumbs up and waved his hand, an indication that we will now part ways and go on our individual journeys.

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PASADA SA PANDEMYA STORY BY CARVEL COLLINS ACABAL ART BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

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Ang init!

Wala akong karapatang magreklamo sapagkat ito ang aking tungkulin. Ang siya ay maprotektahan at maiwas sa sakit.

“Hayaan mo, lalabhan kita mamaya pagkauwi,” Dahan-dahang bumangon si Mang Tomas galing sa ****guilty na wika ni Mang Tomas nang minsan niya akong kaniyang pagka-idlip. Nakakunot ang kaniyang mga noo habang matapunan ng iniinom na kape. pinupunasan ang laway na tumulo sa kaniyang bibig. Ang iba ay Dalawang taon pa lang simula nang magkakilala kami, kumapit pa nga sa akin. Ang lagkit! ngunit iba ang alaga niya sa akin. Hindi niya ako tinatapon “Sa merkado po” katulad nang ginagawa ng kaniyang mga kapitbahay sa iba kong sabi ng isang binatilyo sabay sakay sa kaniyang sikad. ka-uri.

Animo’y batang naabutan ng kendi ang mukha ni Mang Tomas Hinuhugasan niya ako kapag marumi ako. Tinutuyo niya nang mapagtantong may pasahero na siya ngayong araw. Ilang ako kapag nabasa ako. Tinatahi niya ako kapag napunit ako. Iba oras din siyang naghihintay sa kanto. si Mang Tomas. Ewan, masyado akong nasanay sa kaniya.

Sayang ang tamis ng kaniyang mga ngiti sapagkat ako Subalit tinabunan ako ng maiitim na ulap nang opisyal lang naman ang nakakakita. Agad-agad, hinanda niya ang sarili na nag anunsyo ang probinsya na hindi na nangangailangan ng para sa unang biyahe ngayong araw. pagsusuot ng face mask sa mga pampublikong lugar.

Umarangkada na nga. Sa malayo tanaw ko ang pagsikat Hindi ko maisip ang buhay kung wala ang ingay at amoy ng haring araw na siyang humahalik sa dagat. Malamig at ng abalang lansangan, nagniningas na init ng araw, at ang maalat ang simoy ng pang- umagang hangin, ngunit hindi na ito madaling araw hanggang dapit-hapon na paglalakbay kasama si bago sa amin. Alas kuwatro y medya pa lamang ay gumigising Mang Tomas at ang kanyang sikad. Nakasanayan ko na ito. na si Mang Tomas.

Malamang mahihirapan akong mag-adjust. Pero Bilib ako kay amo kong ito. Sa araw-araw naming pagsimula’t sapul pa lamang alam ko na ang relasyong ito ay sasama ay nasaksihan ko lahat —— mula sa kaniyang bagong pansamantala lamang at opsyonal. Walang nagtatagal ligong amoy tuwing umaga, sa maingat niyang pagtabi sa akin magpakailanman. Kahit na ang pinakanakamamatay na virus ay kapag kakain o iinom, hanggang sa ako ay isabit sa dingding ng nagtatapos din. kanilang barong-barong kinagabihan.

“Para po!”

Ramdam ko ang sipag ni Mang Tomas sa bawat patak ng pawis patungo sa akin. Ni minsan hindi ko siya nakitang “Pakibilisan po ang biyahe!” nagreklamo patungkol dito. Sa bawat araw na lumilipas ay mas “Bababa po.” lalo ko siyang nakikilala.

Iba’t-ibang kuwento ng pandemya ang aking Hindi sa pagbubuhat-bangko, pero tiyak kong bilib din natunghayan sa bawat pasadang natahak namin ni Mang Tosiya sa akin. Bukod sa kanyang asawa’t mga anak, ako ang katumas. Mayroong nakalulungkot, nakagugulat, nakakikilig. May wang niya sa araw-araw. Hindi lang siya kundi ng sangkatauhan mga kuwentong nagdala ng saya, dalumhati, at inspirasyon. ngayong panahon ng pademya.

Lahat iyon nakita ko kasama si Mang Tomas at ang kaniyang Ako ay gawa sa hinabing tela na tumatakip sa ilong at sikad. bibig ng nagsusuot. Magagamit sa iba't ibang kulay, sukat, at Habang gumagaling ang mundo ay lumalabo ang papel kayarian. Ako ay tinaguriang isa sa mga pinakamabisang ko sa lipunan. Kasabay ng pagsikat ng pag-asang bumalik na sa instrumento sa pagkontrol ng pagkalat ng covid 19. dati ang lahat ay ang paglubog naman ng aking kaugnayan.

Lahat ng tao sa mundo ay kilala ako, pero hindi lahat ng “Tomas, ang face mask mo,” tao sa mundo ay kilala ko. sigaw ng asaw ni Mang Tomas sabay abot sa akin.

“Manong, pakisuot po ng maayos!”, ilang beses nang “Hindi na kailangan. Pwede nang pumasada na walang napagsabihan si Mang Tomas ng kaniyang mga pasahero. face mask pero sige, dadalhin ko na lang at baka papasok ako Napapamura nang palihim ang aking amo minsan sapagkat ang hirap akong suotin habang siya’y pumapadyak. Ngunit masisisi ng parmasya mamaya’t bumili ng gatas ni Junjun,” ba ang mga tao kung kalugusan lang naman nila at ng kanilang pagpapaliwanag ni Mang Tomas. pamilya ang nakataya?

Napakainit. Napasikip. Napakabaho. Magkahalong Kaya’t habang nasa posisyon, aking sasamantalahin ang emosyon ang nararamdaman ko sa bawat araw na kasama ko si bawat sandali kasama kasanga ni Mang Tomas pumasada sa Mang Tomas ngunit hindi ako nagrereklamo. Tinitiis ko na pandemya. lamang. Iniiyak minsan.

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WHEN THE FLOWERS USED TO BLOOM STORY BY MANUEL ANGELO GICOS ART BY JOSH F. ALMONTE I remember the day when the flowers used to bloom – it was a Sunday afternoon in Switzerland way before the pandemic. I saw lilacs blooming as they surrounded the vast plains, shielded by the alpine mountains. I usually go to those plains because I work as a beekeeper in the local area. As I collect honey every morning I always see the beautiful lilacs up ahead. It was astounding; never gets old. Until one day, the company that owned the bee farm needed to move, because the government wanted to put a children’s hospital in our location. So, I packed my bags, helped my fellow beekeepers, and built a new site for honey collection. After many years I knew that I would never see those beautiful lilacs ever again.

One day, our local news station announced a lockdown for 3 weeks because of a pandemic. Then those weeks turned into months. It took 2 years until everything calmed down a bit. My friends and I took a flight to Switzerland to see my hometown and the beautiful mountains. After many drives and tourist attractions, I made a stop at a certain children’s hospital and behind it was a gorgeous view.

The lilacs and mountains were still as beautiful as the day I left. From now on, every start of spring, I would fly back to Switzerland and watch the flowers bloom.

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JOSH F.

ALMONTE EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

CARVEL COLLINS G.

ACABAL EXECUTIVE EDITOR

REGINE

ANGCO LITERARY EDITOR

SARAH MAE M.

ABUHAN ASSOCIATE EDITOR

ANTOINE JOY D.

MONTECALVO NEWS EDITOR

MARC THOM SANCHEZ

ATABAY SPORTS EDITOR

MARIA BENEDETTA

JAMES PAUL A.

VITALES

ENTOMA

FEATURE EDITOR

KENNETH

MANATAD PHOTO EDITOR

ART EDITOR

MANUEL ANGELO

GICOS ART EDITOR

ABOUT THE COVER The COVID-19 pandemic has forever altered everyone’s lives.

A lot of people suffered from the virus and many even lost loved ones. But, after 2 years of being in the dark chapters, we are ready for brighter days ahead. As we gear up for the “new normal” and embrace the next chapters of our lives, we will always remember the stories of this PANDEMYA.

DESIGN AND STORY BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

LAYOUTS BY JOSH F. ALMONTE

TSS ADVISERS

CONTRIBUTORS CANDICE SALUBRE

JUDITH MICHAEL EPARWA

AINE N. ORILLANEDA

GRACELE NIEVA

SAMANTHA KHU

CHARLES ROY BAGUIO

MARIVIC RAMONAL THERESE ABELLA

ASHLEY JANE GONATO TRAJANO