i've read his valediction valse just now. indeed he has done many things for up in mindanao and i am so greatful to him, and always will be, for being a part of who i am today.
the poet ricardo m. de ungria is revered to be a really great one in the field of literature. before i had met him in person i already had some images of him conjured in my mind. my professors often spoke with awe of him. when i was a freshman and was yet indifferent to my course (i was contemplating then to shift to another, or transfer to another campus), the name suggested nothing but another poet we will meet in the near future, or one whose literary pieces we will be reading in the next semester. he was nothing but a name, and although he was known across the globe for his writing, i was never so excited about meeting him.
until that day came when he was introduced as our teacher in creative writing 101 (i can't be sure of the course). there he was, so prim, so proper, and he spoke in straight english in a voice clear, not so loud but so authoritative. the class knew he was not one to be taken lightly.
with all other professors in the past before him, we easily established rapport and balanced the political influence. but to "sir de ungz", as we called him that way, it was difficult. i remember spending more time doing the required haiku compared to reading the philo notes. he was a threat, so quiet, yet so hard to please when it comes to writing. he sure knew what literature is and the man was not a lost soul when he came to teach in up min. he was the dean then.
we often stayed away from him, were only forced to come to his class, handed out our assignments reluctantly, and read our writings not with ease. the man never said something mean about our output, but he had a way of telling us that what we made were not something to be proud of either. we were afraid of him, yes, but as time passed and he sat with us in the ground fronting oble as we ate our banana fries, we started to know more of sir de ungz.
he taught us well in poetry class. told us, gently, that we still needed effort to produce a really good poem, although his air of authority was always there. we had good time together as we discussed, constructed, deconstructed poems written by the BAEs and giggled with him at chillet's guava jelly.
thesis time he was really busy. i remember going to marco polo to submit some entries for him to check only to be told that it is not worth some few important minutes to read, that my readers would not be so interested in it, that i better entertain the idea of not graduating on time. he said the words without sarcasm, and i hated him for the indifference. i remember going to victoria plaza after a separate meeting with him, again in marco polo, to purchase something for myself to uplift the drowning soul. my situation was not isolated, though my classmates and i had varied experiences with him. i could still picture our dear nog jumping through his fence at midnight to beat the 12o'clock deadline. i remember flong crying in the dorm after she got back her drafts full of comments. sir de ungz was no mercenary but he could easily be called so if you hear our tale.
we hated him for letting us come to marco polo all the time, for it was in the said hotel that a writers' conference was held. we hated him for his hectic schedule, sometimes forgetting how lucky we were to have a prolific writer in our midst. sometimes we forget that while the road to the downtown area was long and dust was a constant companion, there in the heart of davao city were gods named nvm gonzales, f. sionil jose, nick joaquin, and many other writers whose literary outputs, celebrated and well-known, were only read by us in the distant boondocks of bago oshiro.
but nonetheless, we met him outside campus for ice cream, his way of congratulating us for a job well done. he actually went out of his busy schedule to treat us, laugh with us, and share in our joy and relief after having submitted our final requirements. the man was no doubt happy for us. he didn't even have to say it but we knew then he was proud of us.
when i think of it, this man who has just delivered his valediction valse was the same man who had pushed me to my limits. i was near desperation back then. and he never moved an inch to tell me i could still catch up. he never showed so much fondness for the class but he was always there, whenever his busy schedule permitted, to help us out, to put a little salt in our wounded pride, and to tell us we're not much of a writer as the drafts he returned suggested. but nonetheless, it was his way of dealing with us that said so much.
for all that i am today, for the tough spirit and the sometimes foolish yet determined character, i'd say sir de ungz instilled those in me. i could not speak for my classmates but whenever the poet comes into our discussion, we could never stop from being fascinated by the man who had done us so much. it sometimes take some time for one to realize the value of another.
for the many teachers who have affected us, thank you and more power.
), and a year ago i received a package from him that included a traditional indian blouse and a small figurine of an indian god among other stuffs.