INTERNET NEWSLETTER OF THE ALUMNI OF LANAO CHUNG HUA SCHOOL
Vol. II - No. 44, February 22, 1999, Iligan City, Philippines

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The fire that hit the residence of Pua Lim Lim in the morning of Feb. 18 saw LCHS alumni coming forward in a collective spirit of volunteerism. Shortly after the broke out, alumni volunteers were already on the scene. I was at the site and saw the charred remains of the victim after the fire. Among the first to arrive was James So (Batch '66), who was behind the wheels of the Lanao Filipino Chinese Volunteer Fire Brigade firetruck. He drove by our store and signalled me for support. Along with several personnel from our store, I immediately proceeded to the fire scene to offer our assistance to the fire brigade. With me were Jackie Wong; Agusto Kho; a son of Tan Lam; Prudencio "Wa Hoy" Tan; Kelly Dy; and Jose Lim; among several others.

LCHS joins city-wide debate
By Jane Dale C. Racines (LCHS 2nd Yr. student)

The LCHS debating teams took part in the first City-wide British Parliamentary Debate, held at the MSU-IIT last Feb 5 and 6. The school fielded two teams; each team was composed of 3 high school students. The LCHS debaters were Sheila Vy, Jerumae Lee, Jane Dale Racines, Jean Haydee Wang, Sally Vy, and July Ng. The coach was Mr. Rodolfo Gaite. The 1st team won 4th place while the 2nd team was awarded the "Rookie Team of the Year." Jean Haydee Wang was awarded best speaker for three consecutive rounds in the elimination phase; Jerumae Lee was adjudged best speaker in two rounds, and Jane Dale Racines got the best speaker award in one round. Other schools that participated in the debate were the Iligan Medical Center College, Iligan National City High School, and Saint Michael's College. The affair was conducted by MSU-IIT Noble Debating Society with their adviser Prof. Rodulfo Yu (Batch '69).

On "Operation Smile"
Thu, 18 Feb 1999 17:11:19 GMT+8

This is to correct the mistaken impression of Alfred Lai II's article (Spectrum, Feb. 8, 1999) that the Operation Smile medical team has chosen Iligan City because of its strategic location and the facilities of the Mindanao Sanitarium & Hospital. Operation Smile was brought to Iligan through the initiative and the collective endeavor of the members of the Kiwanis Club of Iligan City.  Its first two missions were solely sponsored by the Kiwanis of Iligan City, while the last three were jointly sponsored by all the Kiwanis clubs of Iligan. It is no joke to sponsor such a mission. It takes months of careful planning and a lot of resources. A mission needs between 300 to 350 thousand pesos (plane fare from Manila and vice versa, food & lodging, blood, medicine and other supplies). Previous to the five Operation Smile missions, the Kiwanis Club of Iligan had also sponsored several other medical missions with the UST College of Medicine from 1974 to 1990. We decided not to push through with the 6th Operation Smile; instead, for the year 1999 the Kiwanis Club of Iligan will bring the Mercy Ship to Iligan. The Mercy Ship is a unique kind of medical mission to help alleviate the suffering of our poor and indigent brothers. All medical and surgical activities are confined inside the ship. It has its own operation rooms, examination rooms, medical labs, recuperating rooms, and quarters for doctors, nurses, med techs and volunteer personnel. The Mercy Ship will arrive Iligan in mid-April and will stay for two to three weeks. Estimated cost for this mission is more than three hundred thousand pesos.

LCHS alumni who are members of the  Kiwanis Club of Iligan City are Christopher Chua Teck An, PP-KCIC; Henry C. Dy, PP-KCIC, Manuel Te, PP-KCIC; Arturo Samson; Suniel Lim; and Fernando Khu. Joel Dalaguan, a past president of the Kiwanis Club of Iligan City, is the president of Mindanao Sanitarium and Hospital.

C. Chua Teck-An, Past President, LCHS-AA

By Ernesto L. Yu, M.D., Batch '65

Have you had an awful dose of "the moment"? The moment when you spit out bloody murder and unprintable expletives because you've just exhausted your patience ransacking the bedrooms to locate a pair of bifocals that are just parked on your forehead. Or, the moment when you warm a cup of coffee in the microwave but forgot to load the caffeinated brew, and exorcised the kitchen hi-tech gadget for possible munching aliens who did a nasty number on your power drink.

Wake up, man, it's the stage in our fortysomething lives when our refined cerebral brilliance, the human marker that prods chimpanzees to bounce up and down in green envy, progressively deteriorates. Somewhere along our evolutionary process, as we age, an ounce of brain tissues becomes mushy and ugly; translated clinically in our being forgetful and clueless ("Today is my psychiatrist date?") or gross mental disability ("What church? What wedding?"). Dub it as a prime illustration of the inevitable sour chemistry that precipitates from the cohesive bonds of words, like rust-senility and extinction-dinosaurs. A classic case of "Senior-itis", your family doctor quips with a giggle. In plain layman's label, "absent-mindedness."

Currently, my world is an encyclopedia discolored by rampant entries of moments. I'm fighting back, though, by settling whatever breathing neurons I rehabilitated in a gymnastic program that revolves around tossing and tumbling incessant mental acuity stimulations, like non-stop stream of reading materials, writing projects and, yes!, reminder notes. Precisely the logic behind my being a regular columnist in the Spectrum: the weekly pressures on my neural networks to expound on a conceived literary idea is refreshingly titillating. The scheduled pounding seemingly energizes my slumbering jewels and recalibrates the mood of my nuts and bolts. In essence, I think, I save myself from the claws of the deadly Alzheimer's virus.

Who are those two guys again who manage our alumni newsletter?

By Leonardo "Eddie" Tan, Batch '66

I never realized the impact of Chinese New Year until this week when we ushered in the Year of the Rabbit. It was reported that this event caused the greatest migration in the history of mankind. It was estimated that around 300 million Chinese would be traveling around that very moment to be with their family and celebrate this happiest holiday. Imagine all the Americans plus every Canadians traveling in one go!

Back in Iligan in my younger days, our Filipino friends would happily greet us: "Maayong Pasko!" And some would even ask for some presents like a few pesos. They always confused this lunar new year as Chinese Christmas. Pasko sa Intsik! Sometimes, they even referred to this as "Fiesta Sa Candelaria" which confused me even more.

In China today, the Gregorian calendar, which is based on the sun and almost accepted by everyone in all corners of the globe, is adopted as the official one while the old traditional calendar based on the moon is referred to as the Agricultural Calendar. This is because of its accuracy with regards to the different phases of the moon which would also indicate the high and the low tides of the sea. Such as we always get a full moon on the 15th day of the month. It is so predictable as if surely the sun rises from the east. But it is also quite incomprehensible when a lunar year is a leap year. It is not just an addition of one day, but an entire month is being repeated! A whole month of deja vu.

Our time is measured by our planet's travel around the sun. Or by our moon's rotation around our native earth. As the Year of the Rabbit entered our life on February 16, we experienced a celestial phenomenon when the sun, moon and earth were in exact alignment for the last spectacular eclipse of this millennium. A rare event where Australia had the best view of a crescent sun!

It is really a great coincidence that from western culture we got the twelve zodiac signs which change every month and our ancestors handed down to us this twelve-year cycle represented by different animals. According to legend, god one day decided to invite all the animals of his kingdom for a big feast. The first twelve to arrive were the rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, sheep, monkey, rooster, dog and the pig. To reward the first comers, god decided that they became the symbols for every lunar year in a twelve-year cycle. And this year, it is the rabbit's turn.

Aren't we lucky?  It is our great privilege to celebrate two new years in a matter of weeks. It is not only one more reason for partying, but also an excellent second chance to start anew for whatever new year resolutions that were broken in the past previous weeks. Okay, it is time for me to start my diet again!

By Aurora H. Tansiokhian, M.D., Batch '58

Winter '98-'99 on Bunn Hill (North Temperate Zone) officially arrived on Dec. 21 at the winter solstice (sol'stis), the shortest day of the year. It is a time when the sun is at its greatest distance from the equator. It was dark when I left and returned home from work. Daylight has since lengthened as spring approaches.  Spring will officially begin on March 20 (vernal or spring equinox) when the Sun's path crosses the equator.  "Suddenly a mist of green on the trees, as quiet as thought". (Dorothy R.)

The picture perfect winter wonderland with the ground and trees covered with fresh snow and people skiing, is only a small part of winter.  The marked fluctuations in temperature and precipitation (rain, snow, sleet) this winter have changed the landscape from white to brown to white again. "Black ice" (all but invisible ice over blacktop) makes driving and walking dangerous.  Freezing rain closed an 80-mile stretch of a highway and caused a 50-car pileup as cars skated on the ice. When heavy rains and warm weather melted the snow, there was flooding.  More than 300,000 residents lost electrical power last winter in Northern NY due to an ice storm.  Roofs of barns, homes, and businesses succumbed to heavy load of snow. Fire from faulty heaters, wood stoves, and fireplaces destroyed homes.

A condition called seasonal affective disorder (SAD) occurs with the increased darkness of the fall and winter months. People suffer from symptoms of depression like fatigue, decreased physical activity, excessive eating and sleeping, weight gain, and a craving for sugary and/or starchy foods.  Full recovery occurs in the spring and summer months. The treatment of winter blues, once recognized, is simple: exposure to sunlight, and bright light therapy.  If ineffective, antidepressant drug may help.

There are winter fun and joy, too. Walking in the woods with crunching snow underfoot free of the sounds of cars and humans. Leisurely shoveling powdery snow under a windless sunny sky, and jogging and snow shoeing under a Blue Moon.

1999 has 2 Blue Moons (Jan. and March 31st) not seen since 1961 and not happening again until 2018.  When a month has 2 full moons, the second is known as a Blue Moon.  Usually, there is only one Blue Moon every 2 years or so. Blue tint is rare. Often, it is reddish.

This winter, I tried snow shoeing in my backyard and enjoyed it. From Europe to North America to Asia, people began using snowshoes over 3,000 years ago to find food and explore new territories in wintertime. No bad falls, no ski boots, no ski lifts, no lessons needed. It can be as relaxing as a walk in the woods or as grueling as a run. Requirements are the ability to walk, snow, waterproof sneakers or boots, snowshoes, and a sense of fun!

"There is a wilder solitude in winter / When every sense is pricked alive and keen." -- Mary Sarton

Till next time.

By Henry L. Yu, M.D., Batch '69

Dawn? Dawn who? I don't mean the brilliant daughter of a fellow physician or the talented schoolmate of my daughter or the beautiful movie actress, one of my favorites, who has gotten married.  My 30-year old Webster's dictionary clearly defines it as "the first appearance of light in the morning."  Yes, dawn as in daybreak - such time when everything starts on a brand new scale, forgetting yesterday's dusk of worries, when the twilight is gone, and the songbird is singing, welcoming another sunrise in the east.

As far as I can remember, I have always been a dawn person - one who considers this as a fresh start of another day, a page torn from the calendar, feeling excited of what lies ahead for the next 24 hours, thanking God for giving me the privilege of another beautiful day for me to appreciate His creations, enjoy life's trivialities and simple pleasures, to have time to smell the flowers, to witness the rising sun, to plan for the day's agenda, people to call, meetings to attend, documents to be signed, and set myself to see the "now showing" of life.

When I was a toddler in the early 50s, I was a dawn child because of personal necessity (read: the need to urinate).  During my student days, I would wake up a dawn to study and review for the voluminous exams, burning midnight candle, so to speak.  Dawn has always been part of life to me - such time when we have to monitor the morbid conditions of patients during my medical internship and residency training days. Likewise, when I became a father, I would wake up at dawn, alternating with my wife, to cater to the needs of our kids when they were small.  And now that I am a midlifer, dawn is the best time for me to concentrate on many things.  Not a few people call it "transition" - a lifestyle of the old and famous.  Early to bed, early to rise. Remember our lolos and lolas in the early 60s when we were nonchalant grade schoolers? Now it's us leading this kind of lifestyle. Well, as I've been saying, life is a cycle. Our ages move, so does our physical, mental, and emotional faculties.

A midlifer that I am, I start my day at 3:00 a.m. (as stated by my body clock) after a good 6-hour nocturnal extended respite.  Coffee. Prayers. Music. Reading. Writing. It is at daybreak when my neurons are at their freshest and most tranquil state with the unadulterated balmy air emanating from outside thru the bedroom's French bay windows, coupled with the snorings of the deeply somnolent family members, the frog's croak, the soft standard music of Johnny Mathis et al from the FM radio with a mellow touch, or the dawn rosary of Fr. Peyton.

Indeed, there are 101 things that we can do at daybreak.  And that's the beauty of dawn, the time, not the girl nor the actress.  Try it ...

Once in a while, the Herald & News, a Klamath Falls, Oregon newspaper, features a "Tell Me a Story" portion in the paper which I really enjoy reading.  I would like to share with my co-alumni and friends in Iligan one such story. It is entitled "Salt of the Earth - A Tale from China" adapted by Amy Friedman. The story (slightly abridged here to conform to Spectrum's space limitation) follows:

Everyone in China knows that the phoenix, or feng-huang, is a beautiful bird, with its tail as bright as a peacock's. The feng-huang is also a noble and wise creature. It seldom appears, but everyone knows that when it does it hovers over treasures, bringing fortune to those who see it.

One day a peasant walked to his marshy fields to begin his long day's work. Suddenly he stopped and his eyes opened wide, for there, ahead of him, half hidden among the reeds, stood the fabulous feng-huang. The peasant quickly ran toward the marsh, but as he reached the spot where the creature stood, it soared into the sky. He turned to the spot where the feng-huang had been sitting.  "There must be treasure buried here," he said, and he began to dig as fast as he could.  But he turned up only dirt and mud. He picked up a piece of earth and pondered. "This dirt must be the treasure; the feng-huang promises treasure," he said softly.  So he wrapped the piece of earth and hurried home.

When he reached home, he called to his wife, "I have found treasure!"  He sat down and told her his tale. The two stared in wonder at the piece of earth. "Dear husband," his wife said after a while, "you know you must take this to the Emperor."  The man nodded. He knew that anyone who found a treasure must report it to the Emperor.

His wife carefully wrapped the piece of earth and placed it in a willow basket. Then the peasant walked to the capital city to present the treasure to the Emperor.  When the Emperor asked to see the gift, the peasant bowed low, reached into his basket and held out the earth. He told the Emperor the tale of the magical phoenix. The Emperor frowned. "You are trying to make a fool of me," he cried. "This is no treasure. Guards, take this man to the dungeon and put him to death. No one tries to trick the Emperor!"

The Emperor's guards obeyed their master. As for the basket of dirt, one of the servants placed it upon a shelf in the royal kitchen, and there everyone soon forgot all about it.

Some time later, one of the cooks was carrying a bowl of soup into the royal dining hall. As he passed beneath the basket, a small clod of earth splashed into the soup. The cook was horrified, but just then the Emperor boomed, "Bring me my soup!"

The cook quickly carried the bowl to the table and placed it before the Emperor. The Emperor took one taste and smiled. "This is the best soup I have ever tasted! What did you add to it?" he asked the cook.

"Your majesty," he began. "I did nothing special, but a bit of dirt from the peasant's basket fell into the soup."  The Emperor was amazed. "Bring me that basket," he called to his servants, for he remembered the peasant's tale of the feng-huang.  When the basket sat before him, the Emperor reached in and sifted the earth through his hands. As he did, tiny white crystals clung to his palms. "This is a treasure," the Emperor said. "It is a gift from the phoenix. From this day on, we shall add these crystals to all of our dishes."

He sent his men to dig in the earth where the peasant had first spied the phoenix. And that was how the people of China discovered salt and all its wonders.  The Emperor wept for the peasant he had punished with death. He sent for the man's wife and son.  He placed the peasant's son in charge of all the lands where the white crystal gleamed in the soil. The young man became rich and comfortable, and he cared well for his family.

And so the peasant, honored through his son, rested in peace, and the feng-huang brought salt to China.