Bagac, Bataan
Its website has this to say: “A living
museum of Philippine customs and traditions are re-born in a community typical
of the 18th to early 20th century Philippines.
Historical Principalia or noble class mansions, House
of Stone or Bahay na Bato and Wooden Stilt houses that once, were old
and decaying architectural pieces of a bygone era and slowly
fading into the background of modern urban life are now, restored
in a picturesque setting reminiscent of a Juan Luna or Amorsolo
paintings. These architectural treasures that have been carefully and
painstakingly reconstructed from different parts of the country and rebuilt
“brick by brick” and “plank by plank” now stand resplendent with
pride against a backdrop of majestic mountains, expansive rice fields and
a running river that flows to the sea.”
It was by an unexpected turn of events that
we had the good fortune to tour this place. After visiting our tito and tita
who were well on in years and were suffering from ailments common to people of
their age, our cousin thought that it
was a good idea for us to see what is called a heritage resort. She said that the
period houses in the resort were disassembled and then brought to Bagac to be reassembled
and restored.
The trip from Balanga to Bagac was
uneventful and long. But we finally arrived.
Our lady guide was in a period costume. I
think you it was called baro’t saya. We were given buri hats. That was a good
idea because the sun was up and it was hot. And we had to walk from one house
to another. It was, therefore, a pleasant respite to go to the restaurant for a
tall glass of halo-halo before returning to Manila.
What can I say? The guide was pleasant and
the information she was sharing with us was interesting. The houses were
beautiful and well-taken care of. I felt as if I was snatched from the present and
taken for a tour through different periods of our history as embodied by the architecture
of the houses we visited. I must say that some of the houses were familiar
sights during my childhood years. (Not that I am THAT old. I am just saying
that some of the houses were from the 20th century.) Perhaps it was because
of this that I felt some nostalgia. I would describe it as a feeling of longing
for the good old days of my childhood.
The good old days – the days gone by were
good because the memories I had were pleasant memories. They were memories of
warmth, safety, and happiness. And that is the case for many of us. But those
memories are NOT completely accurate because not everything that happened was
pleasant. Not everything was good.
Why don’t we remember the bad memories?
Perhaps on a balance the good memories far outweigh the bad ones. That means
that in general the old days were really good.
But for a few there were bad memories but
they are too painful to remember. They had to forget these painful memories, if
only to move on with their life (selective memory). They had to consign them to
the unconscious (that’s what psychologists would say) in order to survive the
hurts of the past.
But one day something triggers these bad
memories. And their lives are disrupted and those around them, as well. Some of
these people may need a therapist. But others may just need to re-tell their
stories and in their re-telling live through the pain once more, not to suffer again
but to deal with it as an adult, make peace with it and finally, to experience
healing.
Where are you in this? You may be the one
who need to re-tell you story now. Or you might be the one God has chosen to listen
to another person’s story. When that happens, say a prayer. Ask God to give you
a non-judgmental ear to listen and a sympathetic heart to embrace that person
as she or he takes the first steps to find healing from the hurts of the past
in order to be free to be truly happy.
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