Reading Edge 1

Fray Botod

By: Lopez Jaena Graciano

Who is Botod?

Look at him, there he goes, walking on the plaza, that chubby friar talking with a woman at the
foot of the Talisay Tree. Can you see him distinctly?

Look well toward the center of the plaza. Look over the plaza, fix your eyes on the little tower of
bamboo and nipa, it is the bell tower of the town; at the foot of the ladder, also of bamboo, are
several leafy trees, by the trunk of the most corpulent talisay tree, under its shade is Fr. Botod
talking angrily with a woman. Do you see him now?

Yes, yes, I see him; he is bold. How he knits his eyebrows! The lass is not bad; but it is obviously,
by his manner and grin, Fr. Botod, or devils, is vexed; but, what do I see?... now he is raising his
walking cane in a menacing gesture.

He is intimidating the young woman, so that she will accede to his desire.

Is this rogue of a friar going to hit the girl?

He is capable. Come and look, a crowd of boys from the charity-school, some nude from the waist
down, others from the waist up, are running toward the Reverend Father; they kiss his hand; and
the ignorant rustic of a friar send them to blazes and, frightened, the boys fled..

But, look, look at the shameless friar; he's slapping the girl terribly... Hum! She falls to her knees
at his feet; she seems to be asking for pardon... brute, how wretched!... But do you allow and
endure such abuses against the honor of that weak creature, victim of the brute force of that
cynical friar?

Parish priest! A friar, parish priest! I didn't know that friars are parish priests in the Philippines; I
have been told so, but I never believed it.

Well, see it and you'll be convinced.

In my country, we have thrown them out a long time ago, and certainly by kicking them out. Well
here they are still wagging, dominating and ruling not only spiritually, but also politically and
immorally town, trunk of There's nothing else to do but give them poisoned sausage, like stray
dogs. The goes; that day will come and woe to them! In the meantime, let them do all they fancy.

This is horrible, worse than in China, a thousand times more vexing than in Warsaw. Away with
such sad thoughts; let's go and look at the knavish friar at close hand. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! How
horrible. How ugly! He looks like a fur seal.

What a comparison, my friend!

The witticism is amusing.

Let us describe the fur seal: I'm wrong, I mean the friar, for everybody's information.

So be it.

Fray Botod is not his proper name or his family name:

Botod means big-bellied, the people chaffed him so on account of his phenomenal abdomen.

His baptismal name (you'll be astounded) is Ano, because he was born on the feast day of Santa
Ana; but he gets furious and flies into a rage when he's called Fr. Ano, preferring to be called
Botod to Ano.

Fray Botod or Fray Ano is from Aragon, son of unknown parents, who was one Our Lady of the
Pillar Church by a muleteer who happened to pass by. returning from his work.

The good man educated him the best way he could. He wished to teach the boy his own
occupation, but at the age of fourteen, he ran away from the house of his adopted father and
walking, walking, he reached Valladolid and went to the convent of the Augustinian fathers there.
Scarcely twenty-one years old, his superiors sent him to the Philippines where he arrived still a
rustic.

He seemed meek; but after he had been ordained and sang his first Mass after five years in the
country, eating bananas and papayas and after his appointed as parish priest of so important a
town where he is now, he has become so smart that he is now very rich.

He is very shrewd and he has more horse sense than Santillana.

That is the succinct sketch of the birth, novitiate of Fr. Botod and the first years of his stay in the
Philippines. Let us now consider his figure and exploits. He is a big fellow, a phenomenal guy.
Short stature; bloated face forming a disk like a full moon. Round cheekbones. Thick, prominent
lips; small eyes roguish and feline; large, reddish nose, with flaring nostrils so that he can smell
at a distance like a retriever. Hair of the color of maize; the crown, like a coconut shell with
tonsure. Depressed and wrinkled forehead, giving him a supercilious and stern look. Abdomen:
above all his abdomen attracts attention because of its huge size; it's more of a promontory than
abdomen, because it ends in a point near the navel; the pelvic region and the pectoral coincide
on the same perpendicular plane limiting a central curvature of the vertebral column. Add to all
this a short neck on which rests that unique physiognomy and you have the finished picture of the
whole figure of Fr. Botod.

His whole figure is a faithful copy of Don Quijote's squire, of the ridiculous physiognomy of Sancho
Panza.

With regard to his habits:

Summarizing, if the renowned Zola would describe him, he would say about him more or less the
following: Thick, prominent lips, small eyes, roguish and feline; large, reddish nose, with flaring
nostrils so that he can smell at a distance like a retriever. Hair of the color of maize: the crown,
like a coconut shell with tonsure. Depressed and wrinkled forehead, giving him a supercilious and
stern look.

If you're not going to explain it clearly, it is Greek to me. Why does the bedeviled friar have in his
possession those innocent creatures and why are such angelic girls called she-kids?

They're simply called she-kids because, as time goes on, when they reach marriageable age...
do you hear, do you understand now? He has them in his possession because they are the
daughters of poor families. Under the pretext of educating them, teaching them the Christian
Doctrine, the catechism, how to read, write and other things and deceiving their unfortunate
parents, he takes them willingly or by force.

But is there no woman teacher in this town?

Yes, there is but the old woman and Fr. Botod are hand in glove.

This is unheard-of, horrible! But why don't they denounce to the authorities e for these barbarities
of Boboo or of that lascivious friar?

Who'll accuse the Father? In the town no one will dare touch him. Woe to him who would dare!

Is this common, general, in Philippine towns?

I dare say so because since I was born, I haven't gone out of this town; but by what I have heard
from others. I venture to say that it is, it is general.

An affront! What baseness! So that those beautiful rosebuds perform for that cynical friar the
same role as the Oriental dancers in India?

I don't know who are the Oriental dancers, for that reason I can't say they're the same. I'm tempted
to ask you to explain to me a little of the history of India, but above all of the Oriental dancers,
because I'm curious to know the sad role those poor girls play there.

Filipino people, considering their villainy, are nothing more than a rough, Gladly. Surely the friars
here, considering their behaviour toward the loathsome copy of the Brahmans or priests and the
rajahs of India.

"According to legend the Oriental dancers are of heavenly origin, being descendants of the
apsaras, courtesans or dancers of India's heaven.

"The poets believe that they came from the sea, while the devas, spirits inferior regions, and the
azuras, evil spirits, constantly fighting with the gods, striking the white waves of foam, trying to
get the amrita or ambrosia. of
"Immediately after they were born, they began dancing on the waves, and they were so beautiful
and seductive that the devas and azuras, forgetting their tasks, fought each other fiercely for their
possession.

"The victorious devas took them to their chief Indra who made them dancers of heaven, joining
them to the gandharbas or heavenly musicians, the only ones who until then had the privilege of
entertaining the court.

"One of these goddesses, having had intercourse with a mortal, who had been seduced by her
songs, gave birth to a girl who, unable to live in heaven on account of her earthly origin, was
entrusted to some Brahmans who educated her inside a pagoda, and there since her early years
instinctively began dancing before the statues of the gods.

"From her numerous love affairs she had seven daughters whom she taught how to dance like
her in the ceremonies of the temple, and sons who naturally became musicians. "From them
descended the devadassi or dancers and the present musicians of the pagados.

"The dancers never marry. Enlisted in the service of the gods, they cannot be in man's power; but
they were allowed full and complete liberty to enter into temporary relations with men, provided
they would never deny their favors to the Brahmans upon whom they depended.

"Originally they should never give themselves to men other than the Brahmans, and those who
observed that law were considered virgins. "The Brahmans were the first to prostitute their harem
for profit."

You're right my friend. The comparison is apt: the Oriental dancers and the canding-canding have
a fine though sad similarity; they performed the same functions; those for the Brahmans and
rajahs and these for the Reverend Parish Priest. There is no difference at all. While those were
consecrated at birth Indian gods like the Vestal Virgins, these here are canding-canding against
the family will, pulled out of homes through deceits, false promises and almos always by superior
force.

It's obvious you feel the blow, so much infamy pierces your heart.

I'm not sorry for myself, I'm sorry for my people, for my vilified country. cast the parents of these
unhappy and unfortunate creatures a flood of bitter tears and mental aberration, there's no
martyrdom comparable to theirs; nor anguish like theirs as they find themselves powerless to
prevent the sacrifice of the innocence of their dearly beloved children. Bravo, bravo, friend! I
haven't finished yet the story of the Oriental dancers. I'll continue... but what's happening? I hear
cries, whistles, clamor, commotion. Can it be a fire? No, no, let's go, let's look at it. They turned
around and went to the street where the shouting came.

Look! various students are hissing at Fr. Botod and his companions. Well done; dignity is
beginning to raise an outcry and take revenge for so many ignominies. You'll see, you'll see where
dignity will land!

Where?
In jail or exile. Poor students! They're from the University of Manila and the Seminary who are
home for vacation. They have been carried away by their impressions, their youthful genialities,
not knowing what they're doing, they have acted without reflection. I applaud them, they're
tenacious lads; they must begin sometime; their protest will attract attention.

It's not yet time, my friend, the time has not yet come; if you don't think so, wait and you'll see.

They could hear these or similar phrases:

"Have you ever seen such effrontery? What cynicism! Scandalously riding in an omnibus through
the busiest streets of the town with his pupils and concubines; one must be impudent to do that!
Go ahead, you rogue, rascal, knave, shameless go ahead! You fool around!"

Taken aback, Fr. Botod composed himself afterwards and with his twitching hands threatened the
students who were reviling him exclaiming:

You'll pay me for this someday! You'll pay me someday!

Get down the omnibus, coward, pig, indecent; come down, come down and let's fight, friar...

The riot continued swelling. Fr. Botod, fearing that they might smash him, drew back toward his
convent. That afternoon his pleasure was marred. The big belied friar suffered symptoms of
cerebral congestion. The unexpected demonstration of four or five students made him angry. He
did not sleep the whole night. His mouth was frothing.

At four o'clock in the morning he ordered his luxurious carriage to be readied: a carriage with
silver decorations and harness pulled by a pair of superb sorrel-colored horses.

As soon as it was ready, he left for the provincial capital.

He reported to the provincial governor the demonstration, the scandal of which he was the victim,
omitting to report the truth about the incident. Scarcely had two days passed when a couple of
Guardia Civil headed by a lieutenant arrested and handcuffed the six students, leaders of the
demonstration, who were accused of sedition and of attempting upon the integrity of the mother
country.

The grief-stricken families of the unfortunate youths hastened to the convent to plead for mercy
with the Father..

Fr. Botod gave a cruel answer to their pleas, saying:

I've already told you, Capitana Ipay, Capitán Imuy, Cabezang Baruy. tenientela Munang, Fiscal
Orong. Capitana Bibay not to send your sons to Manila to study or to the Seminary, for they learn
nothing or finish any course of study; they learn only mischiefs and nonsense. They well deserved
this punishment, so that they would learn how to respect the Father, the representative of God on
earth. You, Indios, are worthless; you're like carabaos; flogging is what you deserve.

After this very little sermon, full of improper words as well as insults, sent to blazes the dejected
parents of the boys.
The students, after the filing of administrative charges against them, without any consideration
were banished.

You see now, my friend, how dignity, point of honor, and justice have gone to jail and then
ostracism. In this country, immorality, shamelessness, scandal and injustice are more in vogue
than justice.

You're right, my friend; I give up. I'm going to continue my story about the Oriental dancers some
other time. Now I want you to tell me the notorious misdeeds of Fr. Botod so that I can expose
them in the press in Europe and America I want the whole world to know them and execrate them.

They'll not believe them.

I want them for my information.

So be it; here they are: