my paternal lolo, my father’s father

when i asked my family and friends, what does philippine independence day mean to you?  an honest response was simply, i don’t know. if it wasn’t for sfsu’s ethnic studies, philippine studies, or travel studies to the homeland, or doing radyo kalayaan 2011, i would probably say the same thing under a colonized mentality. but then i remember a story my dad shared about his name. my dad’s first name is laribo, his father, lolo andres, whom i’ve never met as lolo andres died during WWII with the japanese occupation of cebu; there was a curfew in place. lolo andres could not seek medical attention related to the curfew. his war-related preventative death angers me. but let me go back to my dad’s story. lolo andres was a barber in cebu city, somewhere along mango avenue he cut and trimmed folk’s hair. lolo andres also lifted weights and hung out with escrimadores. lolo andres gave my dad his name.

La comes from Lapu Lapu.

Ri comes from Jose Rizal.

Bo comes from Andres Bonifacio.

if you don’t know who these folks are, please google it or simply ask an elder. knowing that lolo andres’ blood flows in my veins as well as in my siblings, my older sister, my twin, my brother, my nieces and nephews, gives me a feeling of hope. i think of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness (sounds corny but true). fast forward to year 2011, (coincidentally the same year Ohlone people, original people of this land, were officially recognized in San Francisco, California) if asked what does philippine independence day mean to me, i think of my lolo andres, my grandfather, my dad, laribo and the heroes and sheroes of the archipelago, now called the philippines.