Internet Newsletter of the Alumni of Lanao Chung Hua School Vol. 3, No. 18, November 15, 1999, Iligan City, Philippines 61th ANNIVERSARY LCHS celebrates Foundation Day By Igdono Caracho (Batch '66) LCHS marked its 61th Foundation Day anniversary with a week-long program of activities on Nov. 8-12, 1999. Among the highlights of the celebration were the Search for Mr. & Ms. LCHS '99; cheering contest; Intramural and parlor games; ballroom and popular dance contests; city parade & field demonstration; and a cultural show. This year's celebration had as its theme "Soaring towards Academic Excellence to meet the challenge of the New Millennium." LCHS was founded on Nov. 12, 1938. Its first school building was located at corner Quezon Ave., and Roosevelt St. (now Labao St)., Iligan City. The accompanying photo, taken in 1941, shows the first batch of elementary pupils of LCHS and the first school principal Kho Phek Yong, seated at center. Photo courtesy of Luis Kho.

EDITORIAL STAFF Charles O. Sy, Editor Henry L. Yu, Associate Editor Correspondents: Iligan - Johnny Chen, Alfred Lai II, Teresita Racines, Vinson Ngo, & Roger Suminguit. Cebu - Igdono Caracho. Metro Manila - Marie Janiefer Lee. Canada - Peter Dy & Mike Lee. Australia- Leonardo Tan. U.S.A. - Ernesto Yu, Alex Rodriguez, & Aurora Tansiokhian Founded Aug. 1, 1968. Published fortnightly since its revival on April 15, 1997. Distributed free on the Internet to LCHS alumni and supporters worldwide. Postal address: LCHS Alumni Association, Lanao Chung Hua School, Pala-o, Iligan City, Philippines. Website: http://www.iligan.com/~lchs/alumni/ For subscription, contact: Johnny Chen, Tel. No. (063) 221-3883. Email: johnchen@iligan.com For submission of manuscripts, Email: charlesy@cnms.net 37 WEEKS to Grand Homecoming

An Iliganon, Athena Lee, won top berth in the ladies category of the Open Division in the recently concluded World Shoot XII held in Lapulapu City, Cebu.  She, together with two other team mates, also bagged the ladies team championship besting other top bets from USA, Australia, South Africa, and other countries.  The "olympic" of practical shooting was participated in by over 700 top shooters from all over the world. Athena is the daughter of Nelson Lee whose family owns Excelsior Bakery, Iligan City.

E-group links alumni on the Net

A new Internet facility has been set up that interconnects LCHS alumni as a collective body.  Called the LCHS Alumni E-Group, the facility enables alumni on the Internet to communicate with fellow alumni simultaneously as a group. An e-mail sent to the group is automatically redirected to all listed members. The new facility has over 100 members on its roster. Discussions within the group over the past two weeks have been lively and engaging. Members share ideas on a range of diverse topics, such as the forthcoming grand homecoming, news bits about Iligan, and other topics pertaining to the LCHS community. The Alumni LCHS E-Group was formed by the Spectrum, with Charles O. Sy as group moderator. All alumni and Spectrum subscribers are welcome to join the group. Just send a blank e-mail to: lchs-subscribe@egroups.com

The Kho sisters

Remember Kho Siok Tyng of Batch '68? She is now in Taiwan, where she works with a large Taiwanese company. Part of her job is doing Chinese-English translation for the firm in business transactions. One of her elder sisters, Kho Siok Bin is in San Jose, U.S.A., where she is a professor in mathematics. She is married to Richard Yamamoto, who is connected with the U.S. government. Another sister, Kho Siok Wee, former LCHS teacher, is now teaching at the Cebu Eastern College (CEC).  She is also a ranking administrative official of the school, and is one of the few computer users in Cebu knowledgeable in Chinese language word processors. Also a Chinese faculty member at CEC is Kho Siok An who, like Siok Wee, pursued higher Chinese education in Taiwan. Siok An is married to Vicente Chua of Cebu City. One of their sons runs one of Cebu's leading Internet service providers, the Global Systems Interconnect, Inc. (GSI Link).

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

As a thoroughbred Iliganon stranded by fate along the chilly shores of Buffalo (American name tag: half-baked yellow beans), I used to write off Thanksgiving Day as a positively tranquilizing no-work occasion to hug and linger on the mattress for extended hours of sonorous sleep. Also, it is that merry last Thursday in November where I portray the head honcho role in baking the 25 lbs. plump turkey that our favorite grocery store gives out as a bonus for denting our wallets with $500 worth of food items within a 2-month period of epic gluttony (we are a couple gifted with elastic stomachs!).

That was many moons ago when the '70s wind was as alive and psychedelic as Austin Power's antics; when bell-bottom jeans and shaggy hairs were awesome and cosmic; when we could care less with the grease and calorie percentages on the tasty garbages that were bulldozed into our non-discriminating mouths.

Now, the holiday has become a real standard of joyful reunion in my family circle: An opportune time for our out-of-town boys (schools are closed for a 5-day break) to come back home; to pay homage to the old nest, so to speak. As such, I quickly surrender my starting job in the kitchen since whenever my dear Verna barks into my eardrums the "Honey, it is time to spice up the big bird for its smokey flight in the oven," I channel her sweet command along one of the new arrivals' hearing range. Likewise, the visual drag of languishing autumn leaves in the backyard that I wish and pray night and day to hopefully relocate into our neighbors' premises through forces of nature will finally be raked and bagged by the muscled scholars of the Yu Foundation (darn lucky guys not to have inherited my trademark mañana habit!). In brief, it is the perfect chance to whisper thank you to my breed of domesticated offsprings who are just too willing to pamper their grumpy old man from Wrinkle City, who bemoans the daily treatment as a second-class citizen, with free errands: they take turns in becoming a TV remote control where I just mention my station of choice and, bingo!, the mission is accomplished way before the saliva on those words starts to evaporate; where, like mind-readers, they master the precise timing when to put the newspaper in my hands whenever Johnny Mathis' sticky sentimental "A Certain Smile" envelopes the music room. Truly, I can't help glossing over my nerve endings with this certain smile. Indeed, what a life when you are the undisputed king with slaves at your disposal!

Traditionally, we have Verna's older sister and family and a couple of intimates join us in dissecting into bare bones the heavyweight poultry dish and in shredding and digesting into septic tank fuels the other assortment of goodies that typically decorate our Thanksgiving Day dinner table: mashed potato, cranberry sauce, sauteed Shitake mushroom, candied yam, pumpkin pie. The juicy rib roast used to highlight our cuisine parade until I made an idiotic boo-boo two years ago in overshooting the grill time of the delicate red meat, ended up serving a slab of beef entree with chewing gum texture. As a consequence, I was demoted to a mere mortal in charge of brewing (not ruining, I repeat) coffee. "At least, if you 'over brown' the caffeinated drink," my forgiving wife mumbles, "it will just put hairs on our chests!" For the after-dinner chores, I just let my eyes do the talking and a flash of volunteer hands peeks in the immediate horizon (my sister-in-law has three tamed girls) to make the dirty finale a breeze.

Dominic, Channel 4 please. Sean, I'm ready for my bedroom slippers. Chris, I'm fast melting for that promised ice cream. Luv, my neck muscles need your accupressure massage. And sweetie, for heaven's sake, don't let this personal request land on the boys' lap. Or our reign of brutal abuse may terrorize them from showing up next year. Unless you bait them with a sackful of allowance and I give up the glorious November days of lazing around aside from missing out on the paternal power to howl in muscular tone as grand ruler of the dynasty.

By Marie Janiefer Q. Lee, Batch '87

When I first came to Manila to attend college here, "oh, so you're from sua-ting!" was the usual reaction I got when they found out that I'm from Iligan, as in from the "mountains" daw (?).  I always repeat myself and say that I'm from Iligan City, just in case they heard something else.

Well, after staying here for years, I still get the same reaction and I'm getting tired of correcting these people but it still insulting to be called somebody "from the mountains."  It sounds like we still live inside caves and we reach our destinations by clinging to the vines and swinging through the trees like Tarzan.

During the early days of my acquaintance with my now better-half Stanley, I could never forget what he asked me for his pasalubong when I went home for a vacation.  He told me to bring him a live monkey; he said even a small one will do.  At first I couldn't believe my ears; I thought he was kidding. The only time I've probably seen a monkey was when we visited the Manila zoo when I was 7.  He really thought that back in Iligan we walk with the monkeys, probably run with the lions, swing through the trees with Tarzan and swim in the rivers with Pocahontas.

Sometimes I think there's so many misconceptions about the citizens of Iligan, or Mindanao in general. When they hear that you're from Mindanao they immediately assume that you're a Muslim, though I have nothing against our Muslim brethren. It's just that the wrong assumptions of some people can be infuriating.  Then they look at you from head to toe as if looking for something lacking like a missing arm or leg, "knowing" that in Mindanao people fight and shoot each other in the streets.  While this maybe true somewhere else like in Kosovo and East Timor, it certainly doesn't happen in Iligan.

When my brother-in-law had to go to Cagayan de Oro recently for a business trip, he asked Stanley whether he had to bring his gun along.  He thinks that he might need his gun as soon as he alights from the plane. I was just listening to him waiting for the words "whether he should bring his baby machine gun with him or not."  I had to hide my amusement, afraid that I might offend him.  Though honestly I think I was the one offended because they still think that CdO (which is very near Iligan, even busier than Iligan at that) is treated like a wilderness, like a safari or a battleground. Yet I  see more people carrying guns here in Manila rather than in Iligan.  Like I know lots of these people who can't leave home without totting their hand guns.  Now who's acting like somebody from the wild wild west?

How I wish they would stop calling Iligan as "sua-ting", it just feels degrading.  Maybe they should use "chiu-ho" instead, at least it sounds better and it seems more respectable than the taga-bukid they keep implying.

By Leonardo "Eddie" Tan, Batch '66

One week before the Australian "Republic Referendum" last November 6, a survey indicated that only 9% supported the Queen to remain as Australia's Head of State. How come the NO votes won overwhelmingly? Sad to say, most of the British Queen's subjects living in Australia are plainly ignorant about the setup of their government here. The majority does not even know that an Australian constitution exists. They don't have a subject like "Government" in their school. "What is a preamble?" many would even ask.

The YES camp at first were demanding that a plebiscite should come first, asking the Australian people if they want an Australian Head of State and not the British Monarch. This simple question would of course get a convincing YES. This should then be followed by another plebiscite whereby the people would decide which model of republican government will be adopted. Then finally a referendum for the people to approve the amendments to the constitution. But these few steps as requested were denied by our monarchist Prime Minister who really played a very important role. He designed the referendum question and process in such a way that it favors the status quo. The YES camp seized the opportunity although they knew that the odds were against them. It was their desire to end this anomalous situation of an independent Australia under a monarch of another foreign country. This is because of a few important events that will project Australia to the world: The Olympic of 2000 and the Centennial of Australian Federation on January 1, 2001. This will mark Australia's 100th anniversary as a nation. What a great timing if, by then, Australia would have its own Head of State or Australian President who does not have to vow to any foreign monarch.

Now the Prime Minister is perceived to have trampled upon the will of the people and he lost his opportunity to grasp a great moment of history. He may have won the battle but eventually he will lose the war. It is just a matter of time that this country will become a republic. Queen Elizabeth II may still have some loyal followers here but I am not sure with King Charles III. There is now a clamor for the Queen to open the Olympic Games. But our Prime Minister still insists that he is the right person to do that as he reflects this country being Australian. It is hypocrisy in its highest form!

The Prime Minister successfully divided the republican YES camp by going directly to a referendum with a model that is very similar to the present setup. In simple term, it will just change the title of Governor General into President without the British Monarch. But there were so many splinter republican groups who would like to have a directly elected president. They could not agree among themselves as to what model they want. American, French or Irish or any hybrid model. So they campaigned and joined the monarchists to vote NO. It was a strange combination. The monarchists who campaigned for status quo with the direct electionists who wanted a very radical change to the system sitting side by side on one end debating the YES team on the other side.

I was just so disgusted with many of my Filipino friends voting for the status quo. You would be surprised by their reasoning. It was absurd and it demonstrated their ignorance. They don't want a republic because they don't want Australia to become like their motherland - Republic of the Philippines. A republic is a more corrupt country. They don't want to lose a day of holiday - the Queen's Birthday. Politicians have some hidden agenda with an Australian president which they could manipulate compared with a hereditary monarch. I just could not convince them that the Australian system of government remains the same with only a minimal symbolic change of head of state.

I am just sad that we had a chance to become the sovereign citizens of Australia last week but it was not to be. We still remain the subjects of the British monarch. God saved the Queen? Or was it plain ignorance?

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

Starting this issue, I will be sharing with you the many lessons I learned about life and living for the past 47 years.  These are the lessons from life that I have learned:

1.  Life is a cycle
2.  Life is simple
3.  Life is what we make it
4.  Life is making friends and living peacefully
5.  Life is not a bed of roses
6.  Life is not crying over spilled milk
7.  Life has a solution to every problem
8.  Life is too short
9.  Life makes us all passing visitors
10. life is God loving us

You were born out of that love. You represented life. You had a name which everybody hoped would soon be a legend. So there's you. There's a new beginning. And the cycle of life began.

So this is how life as a cycle works: You were born. You had your baptism. You had your first two front teeth at 4 months. You learned to  walk without support at 11 months. You blew your first birthday candle. You have completed your immunizations. Then you grew up. You studied kindergarten, grade school, high school, on to college. You're now a yuppie. You meet somebody. Love is in the air. Love blossoms. Both of you are looking thru the eyes of love. You believe in the proverbial "Love conquers all" or "Love can move mountains."  So you decide to tie the knot and get married one fine Sunday morning in what is called "the wedding of the year."

Then you start a family and become familiar with marketing, budgeting, and cooking. Happiness is when the wife obtains a positive pregnancy test. Then the prenatal visits to your OB doctor.  After 9 months, you are there at the Delivery Room - full term in cephalic presentation, as the superstar. Now showing: "Unang Karanasan" being a primi. Or years later, as "Ang babaing pabalikbalik sa DR."

So now you have become parents, knowledgeable and experts in the prices of diapers, milk formulas, and other commodities. Suddenly you have become baby-friendly. Life becomes meaningful. Now you have your goals and directions.

Time passes. So fast in fact that the next thing you know, you are escorting your daughter down the  aisles to the church altar for her wedding. You sing "Is this the little girl I carried?" Then you become grandparents. Then the sunset years and the song "And now the end is near and so I face the final curtain." Then the obituary, requiem mass, and the final journey to eternal rest.

So that's the shortcut to life, just a bird's eye view. In reality, there's more to life. And that's what we are going to talk about next.

I often read about it. I never thought it would happen to me.  I was in a foreign country and was going to a nursing home facility to volunteer as a nursing assistant. I was told by the secretary to wait for an orientation from the coordinator. She then phoned her while I was sitting about 10 meters away from her. I noticed that she was partly covering her mouth while talking. And then I heard it; she whispered: "He is Asian."

I was in shock and disbelief since this is the first time I came face to face with racial discrimination. It would have been alright if she did not cover her mouth or whisper. Doing so means she has other agenda.

Going to a friend's house, I was sitting quietly in a public bus when suddenly out of nowhere, a 6 foot 5 inches guy told me to go home to Hong Kong.  I didn't know the underlying reason of this comment but I would presume that he thought that Asians are taking away their jobs.

These events happened two years ago and still I would recall the what could have beens. I should have responded this way or that way. But then again, I realized that everyone has his own opinion and I can't dictate what they think. Racial discrimination happens everywhere. I hope that the world will come to realize the true meaning of equality amongst human beings regardless of race, culture, religion, sexual orientation ... or maybe not. 

Thank You, a two-letter word, easy enough to spell and read, yet it could be difficult for some people to say it. Pride? The "why should I" attitude. Too shy to say it? The "what if" attitude. Or could some people just simply be ungrateful! Maybe "Thank You" has never been a part of family vocabulary?

To say "Thank You" from the heart is the most inexpensive yet the best way of expressing gratitude. We grow up in a culture of material gift in exchange for favors received. The bigger the favor, the more expensive is the gift. This has been a tradition since the time of our ancestry. But by doing this we sometimes fail to appreciate the true meaning of gratitude. Look around us, what about the "little things" that we have? Have we thanked the Lord for the air, water and electricity?  For good health, our home and family, the foods in our table? For our job, that at least we have one? Or do we only thank Him if our business is booming, or we won in the casino or lottery ticket, or we got what we wanted ASAP? Opportunism, isn't it?

I was not an exception to this until I accepted the Lord Jesus in my heart. I would not say that my Christian life is perfect because faith is a continuing and growing process. And occasionally as part of human frailties is "backsliding," it is OK to make mistakes, just ask for forgiveness and TRY not to keep repeating it. The greatest gift I received in my life is the "unconditional love" of the Lord Jesus. Thank you, Lord.

I thank my mother, Pasing, for giving birth to me and raising me up, as well as in helping me out in raising my own daughter, Karen. For all her love, care, self-sacrifice, patience and understanding. Mama, I love you and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.  I thank my sister, Mila, my brothers, Victor "Siopao", Ernie and Henry for guiding and helping me in my growing up years, and for the cherished memories ... I love you all!

I thank my daughter, Karen, for her love and appreciation of what I've done. Without her, I would not be able to see how far can I go. She gives me so much joy and fills up the emptiness of my being a single woman and mother. Karen, mommy loves you and I'm so proud of you, kiddo!
I thank all my teachers and classmates from LCHS - without you all, I would not be where I am now. For the memories of yesteryears that forever live in my heart's treasures. Thank you all!  Happy Thanksgiving Day, everyone! 

It was a bridge that almost all of us had to cross during our LCHS days in the 50s and 60s. It was the wooden bridge across the Baslayan Creek along what was then Roosevelt Street (now renamed Labao St.).

We took this path daily en route to school and on our way home. Lush nipa and mangroves lined the Baslayan river banks where we spent some of our childhood frolics. There wading knee-deep, we scoured the marsh for mud crabs, and other denizens of the murky waters such as halu-an and ibis. Armed with nothing but an appetite for adventure, Saturday afternoons would find us combing the river banks under the bridge all the way to Coco Groove, and exiting at another bridge along what was then Washington St., where the river snaked its way into the mouth of the Tambacan River.

Crossing the Baslayan bridge was a trip of discovery in itself; at times even more unforgettable than biology lessons in school. Commuting along the same path daily, we inevitably got to witness the changing states of decomposition of occasional carcasses of cats and dogs thrown away into the estero by mindless owners. The sight was revolting to the senses. Even more repulsive was the stench from the decay. But we soon grew accustomed to such grim encounters and considered them as part of the sights and smells of our daily trip to school.

Crossing the bridge in the evening was a different story altogether. On our way to attend evening programs in school, we never failed to mutter "Tabi, Apo," as instructed by old folks, when approaching the bridge. That, to our mind, was enough to assure ourselves that we had permission of the river spirits to cross their turf without harm. Whose spirits we were addressing I never knew. Could they have been spirits of the departed cats and dogs?

In due time, our mode of transit improved somewhat. Instead of hiking, we now biked our way to school. It was a newfound luxury. Even then, crossing the bridge on my bicycle also posed a challenge. One had to steer the bike within a narrow and decrepit gangplank across the bridge. God knows how many times my tires veered off the path when I was learning to bike. I fell off so many times I stopped counting after three falls out of sheer embarrassment.

Today, the old Baslayan wooden bridge has been replaced by a reinforced concrete structure. LCHS students have ceased to pass this way since the school moved to its new site in Pala-o.  Gone are the sights of lush nipa and mangroves by the river banks, of children wading in the marsh, of carcasses rotting under the midday sun. Even so, for many of us, crossing the bridge today, regardless of its new structure, still seems like taking a trip to a distant past that refuses to be swept away downstream.