They are no spells nor words to cast a spell. If your guess to these seemingly exotic terms but fruit, then that's the closest one to consider. Sad to say they are not! They're actually woods which only people down south or so are familiar with.
Bakhawan is bigger, stronger, and heavier while langaray is the total opposite. Yet both are important and inseparable in every built hut.
These woods in particular grow in delta. And are very useful in many ways. Aside from their common purpose building traditional houses, these can also be used in building fences, restrooms, cottages, and bathrooms. And oh, each is so perfect for fire woods - expensive for such a consumption though.
Why these stuff?
It has been forgotten for many years. They're memories which left me no good marks but scars. So dumb of me to only think that. Maybe I was just consumed by the dark sides and bad things they offered. And now I am beginning to recall every wonderful thing it brought as well. Thanks to Boyet for bringing this thing in the open.
And why bakhawan and langaray?
When I thought they were only bad dreams I had. Sort of stories not worth retelling. Seems like an old tale better to keep it untold. And I was proved wrong when a neighbor had me reminded the good sides. Again thanks to him!
Kids in the neighborhood had their unique ways earning little money. And one of those was peeling bakhawan and langaray woods. These stuff must be peeled clean to sell. So a lumberyard owner hired oldies and kiddies to do so. But I had my way. I actually preferred selling newspapers to every house or sell sodas at the bus station or ice candies under the sun. This was not my thing, but I had to in many instances.
Summer was actually the perfect time for this labor. That's when kids are gathered easily. If not, then any months of the year during weekends would do. "Blog, blog, blog!" The sound of an endless pounding. One must pound those woods before peeling them off. It would be easier.
"Ouch!" one would groan. But tough boys can stand the pain in silence, bleeding.
"Ouch!" some would complain with gnashed teeth. They have sore hands after peeling a huge file.
Who would not have anyway?
It was a hard labor after all. Yet it didn't make a lot of money. I have scars all over me. And so the others.
I hated this lifestyle. I'd rather stay home and do all the house chores. As always I'd choose tidying the house or fill the jars with waters or look for fire woods or clean our surrounding or cooking the whole week over this task. But my father was so persistent enough to drag my feet to work. I wish I wasn't around. That's when I became disobedient to him. I always had to defy him when it comes to doing this responsibility. Every time I saw a caravan coming loaded with bakhawan and langaray, it would turn my world upside-down.
What a bad day!
Well, we owned the lumberyard. And I really didn't like my father's idea of a forced labor. Treating me and my brother as his servants was my greatest disappointment. We were too young to bear that job. And so I ran away.
I thought I would be growing up stuck in this pace. I always had the feeling of not being able to wait and just fly away and live my own. Sorry to say, it was one of the many reasons of a broken relationship with my father. I defied because I had my own dream - not peeling woods forever.
Luckily, we didn't keep this business for eternity. Whatever reason behind, I'd like to keep it myself unstirred. Let's keep it simple - maybe we aren't really destined to live this life for ages. I'll side with destiny.
Probably my neighbors or my childhood friends would not give their hearts for this. And I understand them for not agreeing. We may be sharing the same stories, but I do believe that each memory differs to everyone. And each response also varies on how one perceives life. But as I said, its only the other side -the bad one.
When a childhood friend mentioned one good thing about it, I was actually rebuked. In a wink of an eye, he became an instrument to teach me a lesson. And that golden lesson is - no matter how terrible past we had, we can still pick some good things about life. And I did - they were just overshadowed by awful ones for many years because of my unwillingness to admit.
Now I can tell the good side.
As far as I can remember, peeling bakhawan and langaray wasn't always fun without funny jokes told. Each one prepared one or two to share no matter how funny or corny it was. But then everybody was a captive listener ended up still bursting in laughter. That's where my collection of jokes taken from. It was a tiring labor indeed, but jokes helped soothe our tired bodies and sore hands. It's so wonderful to reminisce back those innocent laughter we all had.
Can you still hear it loud and clear? I do!
Of course, retelling a movie story was also inseparable. It was for the benefit of those who could not afford to watch. But our story teller was really good and so we enjoyed listening to the story. It was like seeing it for real. I think that's where I developed a story telling outside school.
Thanks to this life-experience!
Whenever we played antulihaw, these filed woods of bakhawan or langaray became our hiding places. Good for those who could not run - they had these woods a way to hide. It can protect them from those its for awhile.
My father built a huge bodega made of bakhawan and langaray- basically to store those woods. That's when no more single wood to peel. And so we gathered in during siestas to play tug; sometimes we played hide and seek. We just took advantage of time because soon it will never be the same again - when new school year starts. I think that's where we also developed our climbing skill and crafted our bogging.
We had fun!
That's also when we developed a friendship, and so started treasuring friends more than just neighbors.
I almost forgot how this bakhawan and langaray memories gave each kid excitements in fact. Again when a peeling stage was over, the ground then will be filled with the wood's peels. This softened the ground and it was great for kids to play around. We did all sort of crazy games not hurt. Thanks to the peels - it felt like having cushions around. That's how confident we were even if doing daring things. We had the softness of the ground now to enjoy.
To my mind, I thought this one will only be untold story. Thanks again to a friend (Boyet) who has awakened me from this. Your idea is so brilliant!I wish I could tell more but that's all I got.
I hope you enjoy reading!
Bakhawan is bigger, stronger, and heavier while langaray is the total opposite. Yet both are important and inseparable in every built hut.
These woods in particular grow in delta. And are very useful in many ways. Aside from their common purpose building traditional houses, these can also be used in building fences, restrooms, cottages, and bathrooms. And oh, each is so perfect for fire woods - expensive for such a consumption though.
Why these stuff?
It has been forgotten for many years. They're memories which left me no good marks but scars. So dumb of me to only think that. Maybe I was just consumed by the dark sides and bad things they offered. And now I am beginning to recall every wonderful thing it brought as well. Thanks to Boyet for bringing this thing in the open.
And why bakhawan and langaray?
When I thought they were only bad dreams I had. Sort of stories not worth retelling. Seems like an old tale better to keep it untold. And I was proved wrong when a neighbor had me reminded the good sides. Again thanks to him!
Kids in the neighborhood had their unique ways earning little money. And one of those was peeling bakhawan and langaray woods. These stuff must be peeled clean to sell. So a lumberyard owner hired oldies and kiddies to do so. But I had my way. I actually preferred selling newspapers to every house or sell sodas at the bus station or ice candies under the sun. This was not my thing, but I had to in many instances.
Summer was actually the perfect time for this labor. That's when kids are gathered easily. If not, then any months of the year during weekends would do. "Blog, blog, blog!" The sound of an endless pounding. One must pound those woods before peeling them off. It would be easier.
"Ouch!" one would groan. But tough boys can stand the pain in silence, bleeding.
"Ouch!" some would complain with gnashed teeth. They have sore hands after peeling a huge file.
Who would not have anyway?
It was a hard labor after all. Yet it didn't make a lot of money. I have scars all over me. And so the others.
I hated this lifestyle. I'd rather stay home and do all the house chores. As always I'd choose tidying the house or fill the jars with waters or look for fire woods or clean our surrounding or cooking the whole week over this task. But my father was so persistent enough to drag my feet to work. I wish I wasn't around. That's when I became disobedient to him. I always had to defy him when it comes to doing this responsibility. Every time I saw a caravan coming loaded with bakhawan and langaray, it would turn my world upside-down.
What a bad day!
Well, we owned the lumberyard. And I really didn't like my father's idea of a forced labor. Treating me and my brother as his servants was my greatest disappointment. We were too young to bear that job. And so I ran away.
I thought I would be growing up stuck in this pace. I always had the feeling of not being able to wait and just fly away and live my own. Sorry to say, it was one of the many reasons of a broken relationship with my father. I defied because I had my own dream - not peeling woods forever.
Luckily, we didn't keep this business for eternity. Whatever reason behind, I'd like to keep it myself unstirred. Let's keep it simple - maybe we aren't really destined to live this life for ages. I'll side with destiny.
Probably my neighbors or my childhood friends would not give their hearts for this. And I understand them for not agreeing. We may be sharing the same stories, but I do believe that each memory differs to everyone. And each response also varies on how one perceives life. But as I said, its only the other side -the bad one.
When a childhood friend mentioned one good thing about it, I was actually rebuked. In a wink of an eye, he became an instrument to teach me a lesson. And that golden lesson is - no matter how terrible past we had, we can still pick some good things about life. And I did - they were just overshadowed by awful ones for many years because of my unwillingness to admit.
Now I can tell the good side.
As far as I can remember, peeling bakhawan and langaray wasn't always fun without funny jokes told. Each one prepared one or two to share no matter how funny or corny it was. But then everybody was a captive listener ended up still bursting in laughter. That's where my collection of jokes taken from. It was a tiring labor indeed, but jokes helped soothe our tired bodies and sore hands. It's so wonderful to reminisce back those innocent laughter we all had.
Can you still hear it loud and clear? I do!
Of course, retelling a movie story was also inseparable. It was for the benefit of those who could not afford to watch. But our story teller was really good and so we enjoyed listening to the story. It was like seeing it for real. I think that's where I developed a story telling outside school.
Thanks to this life-experience!
Whenever we played antulihaw, these filed woods of bakhawan or langaray became our hiding places. Good for those who could not run - they had these woods a way to hide. It can protect them from those its for awhile.
My father built a huge bodega made of bakhawan and langaray- basically to store those woods. That's when no more single wood to peel. And so we gathered in during siestas to play tug; sometimes we played hide and seek. We just took advantage of time because soon it will never be the same again - when new school year starts. I think that's where we also developed our climbing skill and crafted our bogging.
We had fun!
That's also when we developed a friendship, and so started treasuring friends more than just neighbors.
I almost forgot how this bakhawan and langaray memories gave each kid excitements in fact. Again when a peeling stage was over, the ground then will be filled with the wood's peels. This softened the ground and it was great for kids to play around. We did all sort of crazy games not hurt. Thanks to the peels - it felt like having cushions around. That's how confident we were even if doing daring things. We had the softness of the ground now to enjoy.
To my mind, I thought this one will only be untold story. Thanks again to a friend (Boyet) who has awakened me from this. Your idea is so brilliant!I wish I could tell more but that's all I got.
I hope you enjoy reading!
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