A vacation to one's rural hometown is like reading Ovid in a monastery cell -- coerced mental stimulation. With a lifestyle of iPod, netbook, internet, Facebook (okay, and the "new" Friendster -- had to throw that one in) and Twitter, a typical man will have difficulty concentrating in a boring rural landscape. But nor for long.

He notices the dark clouds peering from the East. A city-lifestyle Nabuenyo barely notices the picturesque landscape of an endless stretch of rice paddies. Compared to the cramped routines of Metro Manila life this is beautiful, yes; but there's a farmer blood in him. He notices the expanse of dark clouds. Nagdadag-om [rainfall is imminent]. Then the deeply-rooted memories of childhood explode. "Summon the kids. Gather the kinalkag. Roll up the amakan. Assist home the grey patriarch in his wooden shoes. Rain is about to dance on the crests of the trees."

DAG-OM: METAPHOR AND THEOLOGY

Dag-om is a metaphor for life, used by the old folk to guide the young. Accustomed to grief and pain, Nang Maring talks about death as a dag-om that looms over his earthly abode. Yet she waits for rain to come so she can watch a picturesque haze. Now at 90, she still makes the best balisongsong, a sweet-sticky rice wrapped in young banana leaves. She never read Donne -- but in her heart she knows the spirit of the oracle: "Oh Death, where is thy sting?"

A life of faith is tied to a life of hope. To some it is revenge that ties it while some, simple recompense. Atheists have tried to explain it as such. Marx’s “Religion is the opium of the masses” relates to the hope that people put on an imaginary god that will provide them the heavenly reward from their earthly misery. Ditto to Freud’s “religion as mass-delusion.” Part of Nietzsche’s ideas in his book “The Genealogy of Morals” is the “slave morality” that seeks an imaginary revenge on the nobles (“master”). The slaves deceive themselves into believing that “the meek are blessed and will win everlasting life, thereby ultimately vanquishing the strong.”
In the Judeo-Christian religions of the world, hope is not situated by revenge and recompense but by the justice of Yahweh. In these religions, the hope rests in the Being of a Righteous God – with His laws serving as the standard. This is particularly evident in the disobedience of Israel in the ancient times. They were disciplined by the just Yahweh but He Himself provided them their hope. This is not to put Yahweh as a power-tripper. Because He is supreme over all, He has the power to subject people to His sovereign will and consequently grant them an escape from their misery.

The book of Isaiah best exemplifies these seemingly esoteric thoughts. In chapter 8, verse 25 Isaiah laments the fate of Israel because God’s judgment is upon them, “Then they will look toward the earth and see only distress and darkness and fearful gloom, and they will be thrust into utter darkness.” Judgment comes in the hands of Yahweh. However, immediately after the “distress and darkness and fearful gloom” comes a message of hope from Yahweh Himself. Isaiah prophesies that “a child [will be] born, to [them] a son is given [to them], and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” The simple allusion of Nang Maring to dag-om localizes itself on the discussion on “God judges and gives hope.”

Man might want to put God out of the picture and might create a self-made hope, but not Nang Maring. She has already surrendered to the fact that life's dealing is between God and herself. God is just. God judges. God saves and gives hope. The key player is not Satan or the atheist, but God alone. Man becomes lonely because his key players are him and the world.

As the first wave of rain carpets the earth, kids gather at the door to watch a muddy farmer waits to clean himself beside the alulod. The kids naturally wonder when they will have the liberty to bathe in the rain on their own.