By: Telly Gonzaga-Ocampo

A day in the town market

It’s been a long while since I went to town market to attend the  tabo otherwise known as the market day. In our hometown, the tabo is every Wednesday. This is the day when people from the different barangays meet at the town market or merkado to sell their products.

Since my hip surgery a few years back, I have been missing the tabo. Wala na gyud ko katambong ug tabo sa merkado. When you are at the merkado you will see several levels. The merkado’s gate at the side of the convent which is at street level is already closed and locked; while the entrance gate needs several steps to ply which makes things difficult. And besides, the market scene is totally different from the way it was in my youth. Today, most of the vegetable vendors are not from Baclayon anymore. They come from different towns and this is an indication that we, from our town, are no longer planting. This is because most of the parcels of land are now converted into subdivisions.

Tuesdays and Fridays are Tagbilaran’s tabo. Layo na ang merkado sa Dao para moadto pa ko. So, I venture into the products of the vendors lining along Marapao street from the Ramvil building  to the Sarmiento building and to the Justicor mini mall. And there are vendors in the eskinita just across Shopper’s Mart where you can find labo nga camote, ubi and saging from the Dauis and Panglao areas. Lahi ra gyud ang camote sa Bohol. Daghan modagsa gikan sa Mindanao. Ang ilang mga Camote dagko pero lagatlat.  Ako ra gud pud ni ha?

This week is heavy for us – the Villamor-Oppus Manding Clan. The Manding clan has just buried Sr. Consolata, the 6th of the Manding children.  She entered the Saint Paul’s sisters’ congregation immediately after her high school graduation and became the directress for social communications in Asia. She spread the Word of God in several continents.

Yesterday, Wednesday was the burial of Josefina Ayaay Caballo. She is younger than me by 10 years. Our friendship spanned for twenty years. Jo is so full of energy and I could sum up our friendship with these few lines: 

When I sang and prayed to the heavens, 

you were there. 

When I was sad and deeply wounded, 

you were there.  

When I was alone in the darkness of the night,

you were there.

And you left me on daybreak, but I know 

you will still be there.

Jo, Your sweet polvoron is a legacy we will always treasure. What pains me is the thought that you braved the heat of the sun and the heavy drops of the rainfall as you walked from my place, Taguihon, to the Sawang to deliver your polvoron; but I could not be there when you last called my name. They said that you wanted to hug me and ask for forgiveness. I told you that between us, there was nothing to forgive. I promise to hold our happy memories until we meet again. Last night I treated Gloria, your cousin, to dinner to celebrate your life, in a way. I prayed for your eternal peace. Please continue to watch over me, my friend.



The remains of another cousin, Lina Manding-Sambalud, now lie in state at Funeraria Gomez. I went to her wake last Tuesday and did not go straight home after that visit. Kini man gud kunong moadto ta ug haya, dili kono ta mo diretso ug pauli sa balay.  So, last Tuesday, after my visit at Funeraria Gomez, I made it on purpose to go to the tabo. What a relief nga naka-adto ko sa tabo. All memories of Sr. Consolata, Jo and Lina came rushing back like a flash of lightning and all these I poured into the merkado to be drowned by the noise of the market goers. I was oblivious of people who looked at me as I allowed the tears to roll down my face while looking at the goods for sale during the tabo. 

These sad events this week gave me the courage to be in the tabo as I sat alone in a little corner at the Ramvil building whispering prayers for the eternal peace of my relatives..