Narrative Report

NARRATIVE REPORT The Ballad of Lola Amonita Submitted by: Nikka Hazel M. Mendoza Irene Joy S. Panal Submitted to: Mrs. Ma. Theresa de Guzman

History The Ballad of Lola Amonita This poem was inspired by the story of a Filipino "Comfort Woman" who spoke at a forum in Hawaii in September 1992. The woman was one of many young Filipinas who were forcibly taken and raped by Japanese soldiers during World War II.

The Author Ruth Elynia S. Mabanglo Ruth Mabanglo is both a poet and scholar. She has been publishing poetry for over 30 years and has received numerous literary awards and honors, most recently the Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature Hall of Fame Award, the 1992 Commission on Filipino Language "Makata ng Taon" (Poet of the Year) for the poem "Gahasa" (Rape), and the Manila Critics Circle 1990 National Book Award for Poetry for Mga Liham ni Pinay (The Letters of Pinay). Mabanglo has also published many academic works and currently is a professor at the University of Hawai‘i at Manoa, where she teaches Tagalog Language and Literature in the Department of Hawaiian and Indo-Pacific Languages and Literature. Ruth Elynia S. Mabanglo (born March 30, 1949) is a professor at the University of Hawaii at Manoa. She is the coordinator for the Department of Hawaiian and Indo-Pacific languages and literatures as well as the Filipino and Philippine Literature Program. Her most recent publications were "Balada ni Lola Amonita" and "The Ballad of Lola Amonita" in Babaylan: An Anthology of Filipina and Filipina American Writers, edited by Nick Carbó and Eileen Tabios and published by Aunt Lute Books in the year 2000. Born in Manila to Fortunato and Miguela Mabanglo, she received a degree in Filipino from the University of the East, a Filipino language and literature master's degree from Philippine Normal College, and a doctorate in Filipino from Manuel L. Quezon University. Aside from teaching at University of the East, Manuel L. Quezon University, Philippine Normal College, and De La Salle University, she was a journalist with Taliba and Abante for a while.

Literary Piece The Ballad of Lola Amonita This poem was inspired by the story of a Filipino "Comfort Woman" who spoke at a forum in Hawaii in September 1992. The woman was one of many young Filipinas who were forcibly taken and raped by Japanese soldiers during World War II. In this poem, the woman speaks. The sparks and roars of gunpowder Tear into the night. They arrive. Men wearing caps, Soiled, A fish stench in their perspiration, Singkit, Tanned like their shadows, Strides heavy and exact, Objectives clear. They emerge from the plains and forests, Sometimes alighting from buses, Poisoning the air with their breath, Disrupting the peace With their fierce words. With eyes still heavy with sleep, Our mothers and fathers Snatch us from bed: Hurry, hurry, we were told to climb down, We must form a line by the fence! I’m scared, Mom! We are here, child, We will not leave you alone! Still dazed and drowsy I feel the cold earth Under my feet. My ears catch The cries and whimpers of the children. The captain yells, I cannot understand. I cannot remember Up to now The profanity-That wounded the air,

That stabbed the ear, That sunk deep in my soul. One by one, The men try to survey us. Fear creeps into my spine when A hand gently caresses My cheek. It is the same hand That grabs the chicken from the silong Rough and callused hand, Balding man, With very dark eyes. Resembling a laho that eats children In stories told by folks. A kapre maybe only without a cigar, The lore remains clear in my mind. Barely an adolescent, It was not long ago that I reached Puberty. Though prohibited, I still like to play luksong tinik. I do not understand why they say, "You are a young woman now." Lola is upset whenever I giggle. She tries to put my thighs together Whenever I sit with legs apart. "You are a young woman now." Repeatedly, like a litany. I see my mother cover her mouth As the soldier gently caresses my cheek, My father is also taken aback. Lola, passionately recites her prayers With eyes closed. It is the same man Who grabs the chicken from the silong, He resembles the color of night. It is the same man who grabs And drags me to the silong, We are the color of night. We are the color of night, Starless night.

"A fresh maiden is sweet!" Rough and callused palms gag my lips. Frantically, I try to move. He forces me to lie down. His thighs pin down my thighs, His violent hands Grope. His penis breaks me open Like a razor, Spreads me, Stretches me Like blazing light, Damning darkness. Warm tears flow from the wound, Blood of a crushed flower. I am his dinner, Only fourteen, No match for anyone’s battle. He, Like a mad dog, Moves to and fro, Goes up and down, Shouts-yells, Moves about Until his penis melts. In shame, I recoil, And hide my face in the ground. It is a night without a name. It is a night without images. My mind rationalizes: Perhaps this is one of lola’s stories-Evil spirits of the night, Aswang, Tikbalang, Duwende, Manduduro, Ay, they are all the same to me. I don’t remember how I provoked their ire-Did I sweep the floor at night? Did I plant pepper without asking permission? Did I go near a banyan tree?

I continue to search for answers When, again, he drags me to the silong. My mother is death walking the street When our eyes meet; My father looks like a rotten fish, Avoiding my gaze. Now he knows. He cannot uphold His promise-"I won’t leave you alone!" And my grandma, too, knows, Neither Mary nor Jesus Can save me. A pile of burnt hair adorns God’s hand, Wounded throats have no power Over words, Tears that night Are saved for the parched earth. That was the beginning of a cycle-The search for a tomb That can defeat my pains. Even now, They have not found a resting place.

Interpretation By breaking through the shame and anguish that kept comfort women survivors silent for decades, their stories teach us many lessons about our shared past and even inspire others to speak out about similar ordeals. Their bravery in speaking up about their experiences has also helped shape the freedom that Filipino women enjoy today. There are valuable lessons for Justice and Healing learned in their stories of pain, perseverance, and persistence to claim justice for themselves and others like them. The poem plays a critical role in opening the world’s eyes to the reality of the situation. It shows that there is a collective concern for the violation of these women’s human rights. Advocates for the justice and healing of comfort women continue to increase over time. This shows that people are not apathetic – they will respond to a press that stimulates the community without pandering to it, that inspires people to embrace their responsibilities without lecturing or hectoring them, that engages their better natures without sugarcoating ugly realities or patronizing their faults

By sharing the stories of our Lolas, the brave comfort women survivors, we send a message to the world that rape is never to be tolerated, and institutionalized, that organized rape such as that suffered by the comfort women is absolutely unacceptable. This is a message that speaks strongly today, as it did during the war, to violators of human rights. As a staunch advocate for comfort women survivors put it: The Comfort Women relive their experiences every time they speak them. But they speak them so that history will know and understand and document these acts, they speak them so that we may be aware of the consequences of war, they speak them so that we may rise above these acts and never let them occur again

Japanese recollections of the war often downplay, if not neglect, the issue of comfort women, disregarding their victimization in terms of gender, ethnicity, and class. The dominant Japanese accounts of the war brand armed conflict as universally evil and equate suffering of Japanese with that of other Asians – this obscures the sexism, racism, and imperialism that spawned the comfort stations. The manner in which comfort women are depicted by victimized nations neglects the true survivors’ status, gender and/or class, and also ignores the discrimination they have been subjected to at home since the end of the war. Eager to attract or

maintain Japanese development aid and investment, the postwar governments of Asian nations colonized or occupied by Japan during the war have often been reluctant to press issues of Japan’s responsibilities to its victims. Survivors’ public testimonies have not only challenged Japanese public memory but also forced other Asians to reconsider the official accounts that have shaped their memories of the war since then.

Moral Lesson We must not forget the stories of the Lolas, and how their lives touch each and every one of us. We see in each of them the characteristics of our own loving grandmothers. It is difficult to imagine how their childhood and teenage years were wrought with unimaginable suffering. What courage, strength, and determination it takes for anyone to take justice into their own hands – by enduring lawsuit after lawsuit, holding protests at Japanese embassies worldwide, and going the extra mile to make their voices heard. Their persistence and perseverance of these elderly, ailing women puts the younger apathetic generations to shame. By understanding the Lolas’ experiences and learning more about them, we can develop solutions to other issues reproduced under the structures of sexual exploitation. This could help, for instance, in better understating and dealing with generations of other issues similar to this. We must slip out of the traditional approach which handles the Japanese military “comfort women” issue as a past issue and recognize that it still affects us today – easy to locate but unseen in our history as it is reproduced in ‘everyday life’.