
HOW TANDAG (actually Tago) REINVENTED ITSELF
by k_spy
Surigao del Sur being Surigao del Sur, every innovation that comes down its technological block is lapped up hook, line, and sinker by its people. And so when a leading cellular phone company set up shop in Tandag late last year, Tandag reinvented itself.
Tandag’s cell site consists of a 120-ft transmitter and a microwave dish that operates within 30-km radius from the base antenna. Tago is just about 7 kms away from Tandag, but it’s easier to dance on pinhead than make a call from a cell phone. Undaunted, Tagon-ons searched for the elusive signal in nooks and crannies, in trees, and in belfries. And once blessed with “eurekas!,†they turned funny. This one’s for Ripley’s: my neighbor found a good signal in her pigpen, but to make a call she has to be on all fours in front of a trough where a sow slurps swill. Each time she makes a call, she remains motionless lest the signal goes kaput, never mind if piglets run around her and lick parts of her body, tickling her like crazy. After every call, she bathes; she makes at least seven calls a day.
Things go around quickly in Tago that no sooner can one find a good site than everybody troops to it like ants to sugar. And the best signal comes from Pepe. Yes, that part of the town plaza where Rizal stands. And in the spirit of the centennial celebration, what better way is there than to bring the national hero into the mainstream of technological advancement?
Including the 3-ft octagonal base on which the platform stands and the three-rung bleacher to which the base connects, Rizal towers at 12 feet, making him literally beyond reach, that is, until cell phones went en vogue.
A woman who makes a call every night at Rizal’s monument came to be known as the centennial caller. One night, after circling the area searching for some signal to no avail, it must have hit her that up where Pepe was, the signal was good. She reached for the platform, but realized that she was too short for it. She looked around and saw a trash can. She turned it upside down and made it her riser. Holding Rizal by the waist, she checked the signal.
We watched just a stone’s throw away, under the canopy of the narra tree. She dialed the number as the moon hid behind dark clouds. Then she spoke in loud, rapid-fire fashion. But suddenly the rain fell in torrents. She covered her head and attempted to jump, but in time she held back. She put her hand---the one holding the cell phone---under her skirt and to God knew where. Then on her belly, she let herself on the platform’s edge, flailed her feet in a blind effort to locate the trash can below. But she must’ve stepped on the rim because the next thing we saw, she came tumbling down into a bed of thick flowers that lined the narrow pathway. Quickly she collected herself, picked up the cell phone near the trash can and dashed to the Pagoda. Seconds later, a thin voice ripped the night: Araaaaay!!!!
On All Souls Day, a balikbayan discovered yet another site that could pick up a good signal--- at the center of the cemetery where the big cross stands.
One night, someone who must make an urgent call headed to the cemetery after trying all other sites in vain. At the entrance, a sense of foreboding gripped him. He breathed hard and walked slowly, careful not to step on something as he didn’t have a flashlight with him. At the exact site, he switched on his phone: Five bars! He punched in the digits, but before the phone rang, somebody said, “Hello.â€Â
He turned around. No one! He redialed the number. The phone rang, but before the other line could answer, a guttural voice from behind said, “May I know who’s on the line, please?â€Â
In reflex, he ran. But the sound of shuffling leaves made him stop dead on his tracks. He looked up. There, perched on a branch of a balete tree, silhouetted by a crescent moon, was a long haired figure holding something that glowed. He blinked hard and looked again. The figure shifted and turned its back, the better for the caller to see what it was doing----texting!
Scared witless, the caller ran faster than a bat out of hell. And thus ended the Calls from the Crypt.
Now on its seventh month, Tandag’s cell site has yet to bring ease to my cell phone-toting townmates. I couldn’t care less because I’m not Smart enough to own one. But I’d rather that things stay that way because I want the centennial caller to give Rizal nightly company. Besides, us low techs don’t mind watching a bit of hi-tech fun.
(Published by the Philippine Daily Inquirer on 04 April 1998)