KÅNTAN SANTA RITA

 

IMAGE OF SANTA RITA

in Santa Rita Church, Guam

Saint Rita of Cascia (the town in Italy where she lived in the 1400s) is the patron saint of the village of Santa Rita in Guam.

Her feast day is May 22 and the public celebration of that feast is usually held on the weekend closest to that date.

The Chamorro hymn to Santa Rita speaks about her life, so unless you know some details about her life you may not understand the hymn.

1. THE BEES

When Santa Rita was born, bees gathered around her mouth, even entering and leaving, laying honey on her lips without harming the little baby. A man who observed this, who had a wounded arm, tried to gather the bees and his wound was healed instantly. The bees were taken as a good omen that the baby would grow into someone important. Later, long after Santa Rita died, white bees would gather in the walls of her monastery up until her feast day.

2. HER HUSBAND AND SONS

Saint Rita had always wanted to be a nun, but her parents pressured her to marry a man she didn't love. He was a womanizer and an abuser. She consented and suffered much on his account. Her husband was murdered and later her only two children, sons, died. But, in all three cases, Santa Rita helped the three repent of their sins before their deaths. Now independent, she finally entered the Augustinian monastery and became a nun.

3. HER WOUND

Wanting to share in the sufferings of Jesus, Santa Rita asked to feel in her body the pains the Lord endured. Jesus allowed her to receive a wound on her forehead and the marks of the Crown of Thorns. This wound began to stink horribly and all the other nuns had to avoid being near her. But on the day she died the wound was replaced by a mark in the shape of a rose and colored like ruby. It now gave off a beautiful fragrance.

Santa Rita is the patroness of impossible cases and of abused women.

Fina’tinas Santa Rita meggai siha na milågro;

tayuyute ham Santa Rita todos i mangilisyåno.

(Saint Rita made many miracles;

pray for us, Saint Rita, for all Christians.)

Linangitan minamisan i masåmai na na’ån-mo / nina’ tungo’ nu i anghet na sinantos na na’ån-mo / sa’ u maolek yan tagåhlo i hinanao-mo gi tano’…

(Your beautiful name is a heavenly sweetness, the holiness of your name was made known by an angel, because your journey on earth would be good and exalted...)

Annai på’go ma takpånge i pachot-mo nai man annok / i abehas låhyan siha / si Yu’us ma na’ fan måtto / ya ma tungo’ magin ayo i minames i bidå-mo...

(When you were baptized a swarm of bees appeared on your mouth, sent there by God and because of that we know the sweetness of your life...)

I man silok na mañaina achok ha’ ti malago’ / ma na’ assagua hao guihe yan i ti ya-mo na taotao / lao un sungon i finakai si Yu’us långet nu hågo…

(Your overbearing parents, even though you didn't want to, made you marry a man you didn't love, but you endured what the God of heaven marked out for you...)

Annai måtai i asagua na pinino’ nu i taotao / ya man måtai i dos lokkue’ na lahi-mo na man gåtbo / un hasuye gi anti-mo na un gunos hao gi tåno’...

(When your husband died, killed by someone, and your two handsome sons also died, you thought in your soul to separate yourself from the world...)

Umetmåna agustina ya un setbe i Saina-mo / korason ånte mumagof mesngon kalåmya såntos / un gofli’e’ i guinaiyan i anti-mo un na’ håspok...

(You became an Augustinian nun and served your Lord, your heart and soul rejoiced, perseveringly you became holy, you loved the love of your soul and became satisfied...)

Si Yu’us ha na’ dinilok i ha’i-mo nu i laktos / ya sumåga mandochon i dilok-ña giya hågo / O gai tituka’ na sånta ma asi’e’ i taotao-mo...

(God pierced your forehead with a thorn and its gash remained fixed in you. O saint with a thorn forgive your people...)

"YES, WE ATE KARABAO"

 

Some older people hesitate to admit that karabao was eaten before the war.

Perhaps some think it is embarrassing to admit that, seeing the karabao as a beast of burden, or buried in mud when not working.

A man born in 1928 told me that, yes, some people did eat karabao now and then before the war.

For some, karabao meat was tough to chew on. But, if a karabao just happened to die (from disease being an exception), why waste the meat and let it rot?

Secondly, depending on the family, there may have been a huge surplus of karabao in the herd. More than needed for farming. So, some were butchered.

In fact, even in the 1950s, stray karabao (and cattle) were sometimes rounded up by the government and slaughtered, with the meat being sold at public auction.

KARABAO MEAT FOR SALE

1959

In the 1920s, a man in Inalåhan was told by his father-in-law to slaughter a young heifer for the feast of San José. The young man convinced his father-in-law to exchange the heifer for some karabao meat already butchered, and the karabao meat was used to feed the father-in-law's fiesta guests.

Another man told me years ago that, during the Japanese Occupation, he would sell karabao meat to the Japanese and sample some himself.

If a family had a sizeable herd of karabao, they might even slaughter a young calf because its meat was more tender.

Even into the 1970s, some karabao owners slaughtered karabao in order to sell the meat. One rancher in Inalåhan had to laugh when he saw kelaguen karabao at a fiesta, because chances were the karabao had been stolen from his large herd. But he let it go.

Then there's the hide of the karabao that can be used once it is butchered. Karabao hide is impermeable to water.

Karabao milk was prized as being more flavorful and creamy than cow's milk. Of course that meant the female karabao was kept alive for that reason.

In all my years I've never come across karabao served at any party on Guam, unless it was karabao but nobody said anything. But, especially before the war, it was not uncommon for people to eat kåtnen karabao.

HOLIDAY INN IN CHALAN PAGO

Going to elementary school at Saint Francis School in Yoña from 1968 to 1974 meant that I passed through Chalan Pago five days a week riding the bus to school from my home in Sinajaña.

One of my memories of traveling Route 4 in those days was seeing the remnants of the HOLIDAY INN on the right side of the highway as one headed to Yoña.

I remember the building being somewhat elevated from the road, the building looking abandoned but the HOLIDAY INN sign still intact.

Don't think Holiday Inn as in the hotel.

This Holiday Inn had nothing to do with that hotel chain. It was independently owned and ran as a restaurant and dancing venue. Various civic club affairs and even political social events were held at Chalan Pago's Holiday Inn.

One of its owners was Bill Garrison, whose wife was Chamorro. Some treated lumber that had been ordered for a project in Saipan that fell through sat idle at Commercial Port and Garrison picked it up to build the Holiday Inn.

The dancing was meant to improve business. The Holiday Inn went one step further and was the first establishment on Guam to introduce go-go dancers. Garrison said in an interview that they weren't strippers, but they were "exotic" dancers.

Guam's first indecent exposure fine was levied against one dancer at the Holiday Inn in 1967. The priest of Chalan Pago preached against the dancing and the police weren't too happy either. They tried bringing in Japanese girl bands to attract more customers, but there just wasn't enough money being made to keep the business going. By 1969 it was no longer in operation.

Because the wooden walls had been treated, they lasted a bit but Typhoon Pamela in 1976 damaged the roof and the wood started to rot. In December of 1990, Typhoon Russ gave the final blow. People pass by now on Route 4 every day and see no sign of the Holiday Inn, although the cement foundation is still there.

THE SPOT WHERE IT USED TO BE

HAUNTED HUMÅTAK

 

MARSHES BY HUMÅTAK RIVER

Around midnight on Tuesday, November 18, 1980, going into Wednesday, Marine Corporal Steven R. Thompson was beaten and left for dead by three, young Humåtak men after a night of drinking and bickering.

All four men, and some others, had been drinking outside one of the men's homes. When Thompson entered the home without asking, a resident of the home felt disrespected. Some people say that Thompson was making advances on a lady in the house. Heated verbal exchanges ensued between Thompson and some of the men. Someone suggested they beat up Thompson to teach him a lesson.

They invited him to walk the sandy shore of Humåtak Bay, but the men felt it was too open and visible so they lead Thompson to the overgrown bushes and bamboo grove by the river near the Mayor's Office. There they beat him so bad that the back of his head was lacerated. Then they left him in the thick vegetation for the night.

The next morning, Wednesday, they checked on him. Thompson was alive and moaning, but the three men left him alone one more time, too afraid to tell anyone. 

A whole day passed and now it was Thursday. Two Humåtak men were taking advantage of the bright moon light that night and went to the area to hunt for crabs. They found a human body, instead. There was no ID on the man, but when word circulated around the island that a dead Caucasian was found, someone from the Marines told civilian authorities that a Marine had been missing for two days. Eventually authorities concluded that the dead body was Thompson's.

"THE BAMBOO"

WHERE THOMPSON'S BODY WAS FOUND

It didn't take a murder for Humåtak people to feel uneasy about the river banks in Humåtak. To this day, people in Humåtak call it "the Bamboo," even though the Mayor's staff cut down the bamboo long ago. The sound of wind blowing through the bamboo, and the creaking of the long stalks of bamboo, gave the area an eerie feel.

A woman in her 60s told me, "Growing up, my parents always told me not to play in that area. They never said exactly why. Just that it's a bad area. So hardly any kids played there. It always was a lonely place."

She also said that there used to be a wood and tin-roof house nearby, which is now long gone, which everyone considered scary. There was a family living there, with two children, but they rarely went outside the house. Even the two children stayed indoors. This cast a creepy shadow over the house, which was already in the area of the spooky bamboo marshland. Kids, especially, felt weird passing by the house.

About the only story I heard from Humåtak people about "the Bamboo" is that voices will be heard, but there is no one there. Most people are not sure what language was being spoken; the voices were heard but the words were not clear.

THE HIKI TRADING COMPANY

THE HIKI TRADING COMPANY

Hagåtña in the early 1900s

By the 1890s, Japan started to take an increased economic interest in the Pacific, both in wanting to get things from the islands and nations of the Pacific Rim, and also to sell to them. Copra, the dried meat of coconuts, was one Pacific commodity in demand. The oil obtained from it could be used in many commercial products, and the meat used as a food product for both man and beast. 

The islands of Micronesia could supply that copra, but the Japanese could also supply the islands. Japan was closer to the islands than the US or other Western countries to sell Western products. Merchandise did make it to the Marianas from both east and west; goods could be bought in Manila and shipped to the Marianas, but ship transportation was not steady nor frequent. American and other goods did come from Hawaii and the US, but usually on whaling ships and the occasional commercial ship, but again these were not consistent nor frequent. But the Japanese could ship merchandise to the Marianas on a regular basis if the market proved successful.

The Japanese started to "open shop," as it were, in Micronesia in the 1890s. In 1899, Spain was no longer on the scene, having sold Guam to the US and the rest of Micronesia to the Germans. The Germans were initially not very pleased with the many Japanese merchants coming in and out of Micronesia, but the Americans on Guam were more accommodating. By 1899, Japanese merchant ships were already providing passenger transportation to and from Guam. By the early 1900s, the Japanese merchant presence on Guam was so strong that people claimed that the Japanese had a monopoly on trade on the island. While other races did operate stores, the Japanese were undeniably the strongest commercial force on island at the time.

One of the Japanese companies doing business on Guam in the early 1900s was the Hiki Trading Company.

Haniu was appointed Manager of the Guam branch in 1902

The full name of the company was the Nanyo Boeki Hiki Kabushiki Kaisha, which meant the Hiki South Seas Corporation, though it was called by slightly different names in English. Established in Japan in the 1890s, by the end of that decade the company had four boats that sailed around Micronesia selling various things then sailed back to Japan carrying products from the tropics.

The Hiki Company's schooners would also transport passengers up and down the Marianas. In the period 1900 to 1914 many Chamorros from Guam migrated to Saipan. The Hiki schooner was one way to get there. José Shimizu also transported passengers up and down the Marianas. Most of that migration ended in late 1914 when the Japanese took over the Northern Marianas from Germany.

Around 1900, the Guam branch of Hiki was managed by José T. Shibata, from Nagasaki. He had married a Chamorro, Vicenta Cruz Herrero. By 1902, the company had appointed a man from Tokyo, Hikoshiro Haniu, as manager of the Guam store. Haniu later married a Chamorro, Maria Deza Blaz, and was baptized a Catholic to do so, taking the Christian name José. His descendants, many of whom are better-known as the familian Desa, remain.

JOSÉ HIKOSHIRO HANIU

TAN ROSA AND THE ANATOMY BOOK

 

"ISAO!" "Sin!"

Those were the first words out of Tan Rosa, Mary's grandmother, when Mary got home.

Mary just started her nursing program at the College of Guam in the 1960s when she brought home her human anatomy book. Her professor had just passed them out to the nursing students earlier that day, and Mary had her reading assignment, to memorize the names of the different parts of the body, starting with the major bones.

In those days, many grandmothers were like a second mom, living in the household with everybody else. Since Mary's mom had a job as a cashier in a store not far away, grandma was the one who stayed home the whole day and night, supervising the cooking, cleaning and washing. When Mary got home some days, it was grandma she first met, not mom or dad.

Even Mary's mother had some misgivings about Mary going to the College of Guam. Mothers were very protective of their unwed daughters back then. Single females and males mixing together, even at school, spelled danger to them! Tan Rosa never even went to school and learned to read letters at an older age thanks to a brother teaching her. Mary's mom only went as far as the eighth grade. Before the war, a classroom education was thought unnecessary for girls after they learned to read and write.

Even the promise of financial stability as a nurse did not ease mother's mind at first. It was only when Mary's best friend, who married right out of high school but who was also studying nursing, agreed to drive Mary back and forth to the College (now the University) that Mary's mother relented. A married woman, she thought, could be trusted to make sure Mary walked the straight line.

But grandma was a different matter. With her generation, there was no talk of human reproduction or even parts of the body. When grandma saw the figures of naked humans of both sexes, albeit skeletal, grandma had a fit. She wanted to throw the books out of the house.

Mary's father had to intervene and explain what the charts and pictures were, pointing to bones in the book then showing on his own arm or shoulder what bones matched the chart.

When it came to the reproductive organs, Mary's father focused only on the uterus and explained that doctors and nurses needed to know all about the tuyan (womb) for the sake of the unborn child who might die if there is a problem. He explained that all the pattera (midwife) could do was limited to massaging, moving the baby in the right position and other such things, but that doctors could do more to save the life of a baby, with the nurse's help.

Thinking of saving babies' lives, Tan Rosa gave in.

Ironically, Mary, now a nurse of some years, assisted grandma Rosa on her death bed with her nursing skills.

TAN MARIA'N MAK

 

TAN MARIA'N MAK

María Lizama Tolentino Ignacio

She was perhaps the most influential person in Santa Rita in the 1950s and 60s. In the opinion of some, more powerful than even the village Commissioner (what is called the Mayor now).

Her name was María Tolentino Ignacio, but everyone called her Tan Maria'n Mak, after her father Máximo Tolentino, married to her mother Tomasa Lizama. She was the village nurse and midwife (pattera).

What gave her all that power and influence was her constant, direct contact with all the families in Santa Rita, right into their living rooms and bedrooms. She didn't wait in her village dispensary for the people to come to her. They did come to her, but she also went into the homes of the people. She knew everyone in the village; their particular health concerns; their habits and lifestyle; their vices and flaws.

She was a health enforcer. She got into people's faces and told them what they needed to do, whether they liked hearing it or not. But people respected her for it. They listened to her and sought her advice on many things.

She told parents, "Ennaogue' na man malålångo i famagu'on-miyo sa' man sin dodogga." ("That's why your children are sick, because they go around without footwear.")

"Na' fan o'mak åntes de u fan maigo'." ("Shower them before they sleep.")

Parents would warn their children when they saw Tan María walking or driving in their direction, telling the kids to run into the house and put on shoes or slippers.

Tan María would administer the inoculations to infants and children, and give them their anti-worm medicine. As a pattera (midwife), she assisted in many births right in the home. Whenever there was a problem birth, she baptized the newborn right then and there, and later told the village priest about it for the records.

She drove a jeep to visit the homes, and even conduct sanitary inspections. She also had an "ambulance" of sorts; not the hi-tech ones we have today but something to transport people to the hospital when needed. Her ambulance wasn't used just for emergencies; she'd drive villagers to their medical and dental appointments up north in the ambulance or at times her jeep. One day the brakes gave out on her ambulance and it was going downhill in that hillside village of Santa Rita. Her options were limited, so she jumped out of the ambulance and allowed gravity to take the ambulance into a home where no one was at the time and there it stopped. The crashed ambulance was taken away and never seen again nor replaced.

Her daughter Emilesia, now in her 80s, told me, "Guihe na tiempo, yanggen håfa ilek-ña si nanå-ho gi sengsong, ma gof osge." "At that time, whatever my mother said in the village, they really obeyed her."

HOW SHE STARTED

TAN MARIA (with X) AND OTHER VILLAGE NURSES

1950s

Tan María was always interested in sickness and healing since she was young. She had the disposition for nursing, too. Her daughter Emilesia said, "Ti måssa' si nanå-ho ha pacha i chetnot para u espia håfa." "My mother did not hesitate to touch sores to find out something." She was willing to get blood on her, handle bedpans, bandage wounds, put up with unsightly wounds and foul odors. While others shrieked in horror at these things, Tan María said, "Mientras mås hao askurosa, mås hao chetnot." "The more repelled you are, the more diseased you become." Even back then, they knew a thing or two about exposure to viruses and building immunity.

She learned from older pattera and the Navy also gave her midwife training and by-and-by she learned basic nursing skills and obtained her license to work as one. 

MORE THAN MEDICAL; MORE THAN "WORK"

TAN MARÍA WITH DAUGHTER EMILESIA

Taking care of people was more than taking care of their physical health for Tan María. She was almost like a priest or nun in the way people took all kinds of problems to her. A husband once was mistreating his wife and they called on Tan María to intervene. She went to talk to the man and he did not resist. He listened and his behavior improved.

When she assisted at the second or third birth of an unwed mother who was still connected to the father of the children, she would tell the man and woman, "Esta dos pat tres famagu'on-miyo. Håfa na ti malago' hamyo umassagua?" "You already have two or three children. Why don't you two want to get married?" and she herself would bring the matter to the village priest to get them married.

One time she was called to talk to a young lady who was pregnant for the first time. The young lady was not only not married; no one could even identify a boyfriend. The young lady refused to name who impregnated her. Tan María tried to coax it out of her, but she still refused. So Tan María finally said, "Hu tungo' håye muna' mapotge' hao. I cha'kan guma'." "I know who made you pregnant. The house rat." The startled young lady said, "Åhe' ti i cha'kan guma' na si....." "No, not the house rat but rather...." and she let the name of the man slip out. Tan María knew reverse psychology before she ever heard the name for it.

She considered herself a full-time servant of the village, 24 hours a day, and she gave up her own home to help others when needed. She had a man who became a widower move to her house and stay on the kahida (front porch). When a pregnant woman from a far away village came to her because they feared a breech baby (humuyong dågan), after she moved the baby to a normal position inside the womb, she would say, "Mungnga humånao sa' yanggen barångka i chalan siña i nene tuma'lo ha' tåtte." "Don't leave because if the road is bumpy the baby might go back again." So, the pregnant lady, even with the husband at times, would move into Tan María's house for the night.

INFLUENCE ON FUTURE NURSE

At least one young Santa Rita girl, Rosalia Tolentino (married name Perez) was inspired by Tan Maria'n Mak to become a nurse herself. She frequently talked with Tan María about being a nurse and pattera; about how hard the work was, especially since the villagers were very åguaguat (stubborn) about health issues. But, Tan María said, the work was very satisfying. She made a positive contribution to people's lives; what a great example for all of us!

Tan María passed away in 1974 from breast cancer at the age of 67.  She had been married to Luís Taitague Ignacio who passed away after her in 1982. May they rest in peace.

Photos courtesy of Emilesia Anderson and Terry Concepcion

THE GHOSTLY ALTAR BOY

 

Si Påle' Faustino i pale' Malesso' gi tiempon Españot ya guaha tanores-ña ni ha repåra na kada primet Bietnes gi mes, tåftaf na makmåta si Påle' Faustino lao ti ha tungo' malak måno si Påle' asta ke måtto tåtte si Påle' para i Misan chatanmak gi a las singko.

(Father Faustino was the priest of Malesso' in Spanish times and he had an altar boy who noticed that, every first Friday of the month, Father Faustino got up early but he didn't know where he went till Father came back to say the dawn Mass at five o'clock.)

Pues i tanores ha faisen si Påle', "Håfa na kada primet Bietnes gi mes humåhånao hao tåftaf para otro na lugåt åntes de un sångan i Misan a las singko?"

(So the altar boy asked Father, "Why do you go very early every first Firday of the month to another place before you say Mass at five o'clock?")

Manoppe si Påle', "Kada primet Bietnes gi mes, mumimisa yo' gi sementeyo åntes de hu sångan i Misan a las singko."

(Father replied, "Every first Friday of the month, I say Mass at the cemetery before I say the five o'clock Mass.")

Manman i tanores sa' guiya ha' na tanores pues håye na tanores guma'chuchunge si Påle' gi kåmpo sånto?

(The altar boy was surprised because he was the only altar boy, so which altar boy was accompanying Father to the graveyard?)

Pues humånao i tanores para i sementeyo gi primet Bietnes gi sigiente na mes ya umattok gi tatten i trongko yan tinanom.

(So the altar boy went to the cemetery the following first Friday of the month and hid behind the trees and shrubs.)

Katna ha' måtai i tanores sa' ha li'e' na, gigon ha tutuhon i Misa si Påle', gotpe ha' umannok un dikkike' tanores ni minagågågon tanores ya ha tanorise si Påle'. Gigon måkpo' i Misa, gotpe ha' malingo i tanores.

(The altar boy nearly died because he saw, as soon as Father began Mass, suddenly a small altar boy appeared dressed as an altar boy and served Mass for Father. As soon as Mass ended, the altar boy suddenly disappeared.)

I tanores ha faisen si Påle', "Håye ennao na tanores ni tumanorise hao gi sementeyo?"

(The altar boy asked Father, "Who was that altar boy who served your Mass at the cemetery?")

Manoppe si Påle', "I hagas tanores-ho ni eståba åntes ke hago."

(Father answered, "My former altar boy who was here before you.")

"Ya håfa uttimon-ña?"

("And what happened to him?")

"Måtai måtmos ya ma håfot gi sementeyo."

("He died drowning and was buried in the cemetery.")

VIDEO

DAMENGGON LÅSARO

 

You may have noticed this past Sunday, if you went to Mass, that your church covered the statues in the sanctuary (altar area). Not all Catholic churches do this, but all of them did prior to the 1960s and the custom seems to be returning to most churches in our islands.

Veiling the statues shocks us, and it is meant to.

We are two weeks away from the bitter suffering and crucifixion of the Lord when the statues are covered. The Church is wanting us to feel the loss of the Lord. He was arrested and taken away. Imprisoned, He was absent from His Mother and His disciples for that time. We, too, should feel something of their sense of loss when He was taken away.

Two Sundays before Easter was called by our mañaina (elders) DAMENGGON LÅSARO. LAZARUS SUNDAY.

Which Lazarus?

Lazarus, the friend of Jesus, who died and who was brought back to life by Jesus even after Lazarus had been buried several days in the tomb.

Well that was the last straw for the enemies of Jesus. Outdone by Jesus, His enemies resolved to put Him to death, and the ball started rolling leading to His arrest and crucifixion.

But why is this Sunday named after Lazarus? 

In the Missal (Mass prayer book) used in Spain at one time, and still is used in a few parts of Spain, took its Gospel for the Sunday before Palm Sunday from the story of Lazarus' resurrection. So, in Spain, the Sunday before Palm Sunday was called DOMINGO DE LÁZARO, and because the Catholic missionaries in the Marianas were mainly Spaniards until the late 1930s, our mañaina called it the same thing, but using the Chamorro version of the name.

Here's how the schedule looked in the old days :

DAMENGGON LÅSARO (LAZARUS SUNDAY) (cover statues)	Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday	Saturday
DAMENGGON RÅMOS (PALM SUNDAY) Start of Holy Week (Semåna Sånta)	Holy Monday	Holy Tuesday	Holy Wednesday	Holy Thursday	Good Friday	Holy Saturday     Statue veils come off at Vigil Mass
EASTER SUNDAY

 

VERSIÓN ESPAÑOLA

(traducida por Manuel Rodríguez)

DAMENGGON LÅSARO

Es posible que notara el domingo pasado, si asistió a misa, que su parroquia cubrió las imágenes del altar. No todos los templos católicos hacen esto, pero todos lo hacían antes de la década de 1960 y la costumbre parece estar regresando a la mayoría de las iglesias en las Islas Marianas.

Estamos a dos semanas del amargo sufrimiento y crucifixión del Señor, tiempo en el que las imágenes están cubiertas. La Iglesia quiere que sintamos la pérdida del Señor. Fue arrestado y llevado. Encarcelado, estuvo ausente de Su Madre y Sus discípulos por ese tiempo. Nosotros también deberíamos sentir algo de su sentido de pérdida cuando se lo llevaron.

Dos domingos antes de Semana Santa fue llamado en chamorro por nuestros “mañaina” (ancianos) DAMENGGON LÅSARO.

¿Cuál Lázaro?

Lázaro, el amigo de Jesús, que murió y que Jesús lo devolvió a la vida incluso después de haber sido enterrado varios días en su tumba.

Bueno, ésa fue la gota que colmó el vaso para los enemigos de Jesús. Superados por Jesús, sus enemigos resolvieron darle muerte, y la bola comenzó a rodar lo cual conducía a su arresto y crucifixión.

Pero, ¿por qué este domingo lleva el nombre de Lázaro?

En el Misal (libro de oraciones de la Misa) usado en España durante un tiempo, y todavía se usa en algunas partes del país, se tomó del Evangelio, para el domingo anterior al Domingo de Ramos, la historia de la resurrección de Lázaro. Así, en España, el domingo anterior al Domingo de Ramos se llamaba DOMINGO DE LÁZARO, y como los misioneros católicos en las Islas Marianas eran mayoritariamente españoles hasta finales de los años 30, nuestros “mañaina” (ancianos) lo llamaban así, pero usando la versión chamorra del nombre: DAMENGGON LÅSARO.

A RUSSIAN NAMED CHARGUALAF

 

Julia Miller was an outgoing, cheerful person.

And she had a sense of humor.

She was born Julia San Nicolás Chargualaf, and she often told people she was Russian.

She said it with a straight face and the rest of us just looked at each other in bewilderment.

Then she would pronounce her name CHARGUALAF to match with STROGANOFF.

Then we'd burst out laughing.

She was the daughter of Pedro and Maria San Nicolás Chargualaf and was born in the Bilibik barrio of Hagåtña then lived in Talofofo after the war, until she got married.

She married Joe Miller (RIP) and she herself recently passed away. U såga gi minahgong. Rest in peace.

ANOTHER KIND OF SURUHÅNA

 

In the Marianas, there are the suruhånas and suruhånos everyone speaks about.

And there are also the ones fewer people talk about.

The well-known ones are the herbal doctors who get interviewed, gain recognition and are put on special lists, such as Master Suruhåno/a.

They were, shall we say, the full-fledged suruhånas who dedicated most of their day treating clients with all sorts of ailments.

But the less-known ones never got nominated to win special titles. They were more or less known mainly in their villages, and weren't "full time" healers. They often stuck to just making common herbal remedies for ordinary illnesses such as the flu. While not regarded as full-blown suruhånas, they were the go-to people in the village when you needed åmot Chamorro (local, herbal medicine).

Here are just two examples, from people I knew in life and who gave me herbal medicine.

LUCIA CHARFAUROS ACFALLE BURKHARD

Lucia was a more-or-less homebound lady living in Malesso' when I was the priest there now and then in the 1990s.

Though homebound, due to her difficulty walking, she knew what was going on in the village, as most people in small villages do. A devout Catholic, I saw her once a month on First Fridays to give her Holy Communion. She always gave me some Mass intentions to be said at the parish.

But when she would hear that I had the flu or a cold, invariably someone would come to the konbento (priest's house) with a plastic gallon jug of åmot Chamorro and tell me, "This is from Tan Lucia."  If she heard I had the flu five times, five times a bottle of herbal medicine would be dropped off to me from her. God bless her.

ROMANA AGUON CRISÓSTOMO RAMOS

Tan Romana was from my home village of Sinajaña. She was known as a healer of children's illnesses.

I can't say for sure which specific children's illnesses she treated, because I was just 4 or 5 years old when I got the Tan Romana treatment. So I don't know what my illness was! I wasn't told; who tells a four-year-old what their illness is?

All I know is that Tan Romana came to my grandmother's house one day (or night) with her herbal concoction. I was put on someone's lap and held down, and someone used their hand to force my mouth open.

Tan Romana dipped a fresh piece of gauze into her brown, liquid medicine then squeezed the gauze till the herbal medicine poured down my throat. It was very bitter! I wanted to cough it all out, but everyone was telling me to swallow, and with hands holding me down on someone's lap and another hand firmly holding my mouth open, I complied.

I don't even remember being sick, or getting better. But I never received a Tan Romana treatment again. I didn't hold it against her, and I never developed a fear of Tan Romana. She was always a nice lady to me as I continued to see her till her death in 2001. God bless her, too.

In all the island's villages, there were women, and a few men, who weren't considered full-fledged suruhåna/o, but they did make åmot Chamorro and helped people with ordinary bouts of sickness. I'm sure many readers could add more names to this list of åmot makers.

TAN LUCIA

HE FOUGHT THE KAISER

 

VICENTE MUÑA FLORES

Imagine a young Chamorro man serving in the US Army during World War One in Europe.

But that's exactly what Vicente Muña Flores did, and it serves as a reminder that it was not totally impossible for Chamorros in the old days to leave our small islands and get a taste of the big world out there.

In fact, Flores did not join the US Army on Guam but rather in Sacramento, California; which shows that he was already in the big world away from Guam before he joined the Army.

He was in Sacramento working on a steamboat as a deck hand. His draft registration says he had previously been a mess attendant in the US Navy so maybe that's how he ended up in California. He had been born on Guam in 1891 so he was already 26 years old when he registered for the draft.

FOUGHT IN FRANCE

Flores fought in France in 1918. He was there at the Champagne-Marne campaign which was the Germans' last offensive. When the German push was repelled, the tide of the war went in the favor of the Allies. World War I was over in a few months.

Flores was honorably discharged but didn't return to Guam till 1922. Then he married Ana Blas Untalan and raised a family. He was described by both the 1930 and 1940 censuses as being a farmer. The young man who left the island to see the big world, going so far as to fight in Europe in World War One, came back to be like almost every other man on Guam; a tiller of the soil settled on his land.

But he, like few others, could sit with all those fellow Chamorros who had never left Guam and regale them with stories about France, California, the war and the high seas.

VICENTE AND WIFE ANA

BOY HUNTED BY JAPANESE

 AS A STUDENT AT ST. MARY'S COLLEGE

1957

If you've ever heard of a man from Saipan named JOE ELEVEN, you're in your 50s and 60s if not older.

In the past, there were two JOE TENORIOS on Saipan. The older of the two was José Camacho Tenorio, who was Saipan's richest businessman. Everyone knew him as JOE TEN.

The younger Joe Tenorio, who chose a legal career, was known as JOE ELEVEN.

Joe Eleven showed his intellectual curiosity early in life, picking up English here and there from the few people in Saipan who knew some English.

That intellectual curiosity was enough to get him in trouble with the Japanese, who were so paranoid of American victory that even a tiny knowledge of English was enough to label you a possible American spy. Even if you were just eleven years old, as Joe Eleven was in 1944.

But the Japanese came looking for the young boy, going to his family farm. He tells the story :

"When the Japanese came looking for us, we fled and went into hiding. We offered up prayers to the Sacred Heart for protection against the Japanese and for protection against the bombs that were bursting all around us. And we were protected and weren't harmed."

Just based on his natural smarts and making the most of what limited education was possible in Saipan after the war, Joe Eleven got a job teaching at Saipan's elementary school.

In this capacity, he got to know Mrs. Paul Murphy, the American principal at the Navy dependents' school in Saipan. She recognized Joe Eleven's potential and reached out to a Minnesota priest named Monsignor Bernard Mangan. He, in turn, brought the matter to the attention of the De La Salle Brothers who ran Saint Mary's College in Winona, Minnesota. They agreed to take in Joe Eleven on scholarship.

After finishing college and studying law, Joe Eleven returned to Saipan. He got married and raised a family, passing away in 1989. U såga gi minahgong. Rest in peace.

If it weren't for the Sacred Heart of Jesus, he may never have accomplished all that, all because he spoke a little English and that made the Japanese nervous about an eleven-year-old boy.

JOE ELEVEN