01-058
1882.12.29, Calamba
From: Paciano Rizal
To: José Rizal
Parents no longer able to write letters — “Drv cholera” — Concerns about the harvest — Poor milling — Feast of St. Francis — Rizal’s horse — A prophetic dream? Something of politics.
Calamba, 29 December 1882
DEAR BROTHER.
Yesterday we received a letter of yours dated 31 August. In it you complain that you have not received any letter from our parents. They do not write you, not because they do not want to, but because at their age they no longer can, and I who am here, believe that their silence is worth much more than the best written letter. Instead of our parents, I suppose that our sisters, being less busy, will write you regularly. As for me, I have more than enough work and I lack topics, as it is happening to me now. I don’t know what to write that might have some interest, but as you like even the most insignificant things concerning our town, I’m going to tell you something about it in the best way I can.
Cholera cases have greatly decreased, but it appears in another guise. Here it is called dry cholera. It is not manifested by evacuations and vomits; its symptoms are extreme fatigue and cramps and the patient succumbs after a few hours. They say that it is very difficult to combat this disease, and it is true, for all the cases were fatal. Fortunately there were very few cases. We have relatives in Biñan and San Pedro Makati who succumbed to it. Very few families are not in mourning these days, whether for near or distant relatives. Inside the church the dominant color is black just as it was white before. When I hear Mass on Sundays, I feel I’m attending the commemoration of the dead in November, there being no other difference except the absence of the catalfaque and the candles, the hush and the lugubrious aspect being the same.
The immediate effect of this scourge is the shortage of workmen for the rice harvest. Very few go to the fields. The majority stay at home either for fear of the disease or for having to take care of the sick. In the meantime, days pass and the palay is spoiled. Of what use is a good crop if part of it will remain on the ground? May the sugar cane not meet the same fate as the palay,[1] because then we would exclaim: “It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good.”
The heavy rains that fell this year have greatly damaged the sugar cane plantations so that our crop is below average. Every week, the rivers that flow into the lake overflow, augmented by water from other sources, and they have no other outlet except the Pasig. The Pasig River rises rapidly overflowing its banks and their inhabitants are compelled to move out. At no other time has the beach been so large as now, reaching until the talisay tree on the road to the sand-bar.
The third orders of St. Francis of both sexes celebrated the feast of St. Francis on the 4th of this month with a procession in the patio after which the woman-warden gave breakfast and lunch at her house attended by many members, some chiefs, and Fr. Domingo. The women did not want to eat in the dining room, preferring to eat in the kitchen. As there were no preparations there, everyone took his plate and managed as best he could. In fact everything was in confusion there. After the breakfast, the most God-fearing gathered around one who was reading the life and miracles of their father St Francis. The less God-fearing formed another group, among whom rather profane jokes were in order. After the reading was over and conversation lagged, I took the oracle of Napoleon, the fortune-book and pictures of the gods of Greece and Rome. The most credulous and serious women consulted about their future while the incredulous, many of them the old women who have nothing to ask, contented themselves with chewing buyo.[2] The young women enjoyed looking at the pictures. The luncheon was more orderly, because they prepared a table outside for those who did not want to eat inside the house. After this, the pious sisters of the Third Order left and thus ended the fiesta. We helped a little in this fiesta to satisfy our mother.
This unfinished letter, written in September and forgotten among my clothes, now that I find it, I send it to you with later news.
Since the cholera has subsided, I went out to the mountain to attend the preparations for the milling which are almost finished on this date. In going back and forth, I don’t ride your horse because I fear that it may become thin, having to spend there whole weeks and without a stable. On the other hand, the animal has become very brave and ferocious, so that I leave it at home. With regard to the horse: Dandoy dared to try him one Sunday afternoon at the time when the best race horse of Lipa was here. When the two horses were already at top speed, your horse made a frolicsome bound with the hind legs as it used to do, so that Dandoy, in spite of being a good jockey, jumped from the saddle and fell clear into the middle of the plaza. This reminds me that his horse, the chestnut one, threw me down. We are even now.
This Christmas was just like that of previous years, the only difference being that the sopranos this year were Victoria, Ursula, and Pangoy who were very good in the practice but very poor in the inauguration. Ursula is Calamba’s Raguer.[3]
This year there was more water and less animation due to the fact that sugar is still unsold and there is good reason for it.
Yes, Gregorio is leaving before anyone else. You will probably receive the box from him that contains I know not what things, the ring, the step-ins of Sra. Neneng,, Olimpia’s handkerchiefs, and ₱50 of Antonino for your allowance, which he delivered to Uncle Antonio in person.
They brought me the first numbers of C.S. I would not be surprised if you receive it where you are, for here people arc scandalized by the most insignificant thing and they see a pile where there are only shadows. For this reason, it is not advisable for me to have it here. However, if you insist that I be subscriber, so be it, but the copies must remain there. Who is that Pagong?[4]
As it is very possible that you may forget Tagalog, your native tongue, I’ll conclude this letter in that language.
Do you remember what you told me one dawn, after the night Mass that you dreamed that our family will go through a great trouble, but you could not tell whether it would enrich or impoverish us, being only a dream? I still remember this and now it is becoming fresh again in my memory, because of what I dreamed, not once but twice, similar to yours, the only difference being that mine is rather clear as to the improvement.
Nevertheless, as I’m not much of a believer in dreams that occur in the darkness of sleep, I cannot believe in it, though all of this can happen. May God keep all of us, especially S. and P.
These two roads we are going through should not be the guide of one who wishes to return to his place of origin, because he cannot expect any improvement. Any road leads to Rome, but if he does not think of going back, he can choose the best. In my opinion the best is the welfare of the majority.
PACIANO
Tell me if you there[5] are all razors in comparison to many of us who are dull tools, because if that is so, there is no remedy for us.
[1] Palay is unhusked rice.
[2] Buyo contains a tiny piece of betel nut, lime, and a piece of betel pepper mixed together and chewed.
[3] Alluding to the actress La Raguer who came to the Philippines in 1880 and took into her theatrical company Filipinos like Praxedes Fernandez, Patricinio Tagaroma, José Caravajal, Nemesio Ratia. and others, who became celebrated actors.
[4] Vicente González, a Spanish mestizo, dubbed “Marquis of Pagong” (pagong is Tagolog for turtle) and a friend of Rizal at Manila.
[5] In other words, those Filipinos overseas.