Storyboard 12-University of Guam: The Perfect Mother's Day Gift

"A book is a gift you can open again and again."--Garrison Keillor

I am so happy that the University of Guam and the team of Storyboard-A Journal of Pacific Imagery continue to publish this literary and artistic collection of work. My first experience was with Storyboard 6 in 1999. I was a graduate student at UOG and teaching at JFKHS. When I was an undergrad, I tried submitting poetry--only to be rejected, twice. I took that as a sign that poetry wasn’t my forte’. But in grad school, in a feminist literature class, Dr. Jeanine Talley my professor was also the new editor. Like a snail coming out of her shell, I began to show pieces to her. She liked my essays and encouraged me to submit. I was at this point nurturing a desire to write novels and was penning short stories when I could.

So, in Storyboard 6, two of my poems were featured and I was elated! Then, my regular life--teaching, parents, boyfriend-- eclipsed my writing dreams. I was able to ride this little wave of being published for a short time. I got my fix with opinion pieces in the PDN. I did a stint with Marine Drive Magazine for a few months. When I called a boutique owner for an interview, she said, “I do not want to contribute to a magazine that has underaged girls on the cover who are half dressed.” I agreed, and as a teacher of teenagers who were reading the magazine and seeing my name attached to articles (even if those articles were about sandwiches or coffee shops) I had to make a choice. I quit.

With that, another opportunity arose the next week with MDM’s sister magazine. I met the very serious editor and began another short burst of writing with Guam Business magazine. It felt like real work and churning out facts and putting a spin on it was good exercise, but it wasn’t my passion.

So, moving forward, the joy of UOG’s Storyboard fell to the wayside. I believe they lacked an editor for a few years and for Storyboard 11, a call for entries was made. I was already off-island when my Auntie Patty sent me the flyer. I contacted the editor and verified that I was qualified. She indicated that as long as I was an alum I was good. Ten years after my first appearance in this journal, I submitted three short stories. There was a blind review of all entries and two made the cut.

This Friday, Storyboard 12 is being unveiled on Guam and like last year, I can’t be there. Something about $1,500.00 for a plane ticket and 6,000+miles over the Pacific Ocean holding me back. Thankfully, my brother will be attending, cruising from our grandmother Julia’s 1st death anniversary mass in Asan to East Hagatna to represent me. I miss my grandmother and find it poetic, if you will that the unveiling falls on her anniversary.

I wrote the short story, “Reach” for my mother. It is more than loosely based on her ‘crossing’ from life in South Korea to life as an adopted Chamorrita, because that she is. She is living her life as a Chamorro and I am proud of her.**Painting is of my omma (left) holding me, grandfather, mom's sister, Yong Cha with daughter.--painted by my brother, Sonny K. Chargualaf
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Excerpt, “Reach” 2012:

Un Cha signed her name on the letter, written in Korean for the only man she loved. She tucked it into her purse and dressed into the black outfit her daughter helped her pick out. They found their funeral garb at a Korean clothing store in Anigua. With her children and her grandson in tow, Un Cha left their home and sat quietly during the drive to Asan church, in the village that Ted grew up. She imagined many times what her husband was like as a child and often thought that her three children were solid reminders of his legacy.

Before the funeral director closed the casket for the final time, Un Cha walked up alone.

“Yobo, my love. I will meet you again someday. I love you.” Un Cha placed the love letter securely in Ted’s cold hands, still strong, still the color of earth. She bowed deeply and hugged him. Her children were by her side, anchoring her in the world of the living, when all she wanted was to crawl into the space with her husband.

**Dad & Mom in Asan-by Sonny K. Chargualaf
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Happy Mother’s Day, Omma!

Words, Schmords....

“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”—Norman Cousins

I have a daily struggle with myself and the little box of hopes and dreams that rests in my chest. This box holds every bright idea I’ve had, every storyline I’ve created and every fantasy scenario I whip up in my head. Frustration builds when I CANNOT carve a time and space to write. The thoughts and feelings and characters that dance in my busy brain get louder and louder (no, I don’t need a shrink) and then my frustration builds. As a military wife and a mom of two young children, my priorities day to day is family, then the house, then me. It’s typical, I’m not complaining, but after a few days or weeks of this, I think of my blog, my unfinished novel, the second draft of another novel, my screenplay that was critiqued and sitting (which I’m going to eventually put in novel format), my personal journals etc. The frustration builds and I have to let off the steam from my literary creative juices.

I’ve often told my husband that I wish that I didn’t feel the NEED or WANT to write. It’s there in my DNA and I can’t extract it. If I did, my home would be spotless, my body would be oogle-worthy and healthier and my children would be playing extravagant classical music on a violin or piano. But, when one desire tips the focus away from other things, someone or something will suffer. Ideally, I would live in a library. Read, write, read, write, have a snack then read and write again.

With this plopped on cyber paper, I’m off to reconnect with the novel that waits like a hungry, ignored child. “Mommy! I want you! Play with me!” (In the meantime, I've fed my child fruit, tied her blanket on like a super hero cape, made her a ham sandwich and refilled my coffee twice--clock is ticking as my real kid is asking me to sit with her, NOW!)

The above quote by Norman Cousins struck a huge chord in me. I heard it at my cousin’s law school graduation last week. As I sat among family in the beautiful Organ Pavilion at Balboa Park, I was touched by the keynote speakers, a successful duo of father and son. I can’t recall if the son or the father said this, but a few times "he" reiterated that “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.”

I feel most akin to people who strive daily to live their dream, whether that be music, writing, art or even being a better parent! When I see that they have kept that little box in their chest alive, open and free to express itself, then I feel like I should too. I don’t say that I wish that I didn’t need or want to write anymore, because it’s something that is inherently part of me, my identity and my future. All I can do is jump in with both feet and do what I do.

Words excite me. Being a wordsmith intrigues me. Creating worlds and moving mountains with a page of text exhilarates my soul.
Thanks for allowing me to share…and here is Gotye's Eyes Wide Open which pretty much reflects that I don't want to regret not living a meaningful, true life.

"We walk the plank with our eyes wide open."--Gotye


ESTA LATER!

A Fish Called Stick.

“Eating rice cakes is like chewing on a foam coffee cup, only less filling.”--Dave Barry

Watching my kids eat fish sticks made me sad. I would rather they have some fresh mafuti or lagua (parrot fish).

My four year old daughter asked, “What’s this crunchy stuff on the outside? Is the fish born this way?” I mumbled back, “Oh, no. That is breading, it isn’t natural.” I felt bad feeding fish sticks to my children. Bad mommy!—ran through my head.

Being in SoCal, I’ve been able to grill and fry mackerel for the kids on occasion. They typically love it! When we trek to IHOP for breakfast, my islander son always gets the Jr. Tilapia and broccoli.

Watching my kids eat this food that is morphed makes me think we should just go vegan or totally organic, but being Chamorro…makes that tough. I know, not impossible, but Spam is a top food from my motherland. (Spam is known as “ham” in my house—Ham’s evil, lazy step brother--who's allowed out of the pantry once in awhile). Jasmine rice is served several times a week and my daughter loves bread. If we were on Guam, I’m sure she would go nuts for potu and manha titiyas—I did at the Chamorro Cultural Fest last week (Thanks, Abel’s Island Food Products).

I’m happy to report (thanks to my mom’s Korean healthy diet) that my children love fruit. They just devoured a plate of Fuji apples and low fat cheddar. My daughter ate carrot sticks the other day because her Nina Kim prepared them and my son loves grilled onions, cilantro, mushrooms, eggplant and bell peppers.

Thinking of my mother and life growing up on Guam, I recall eating fried chicken (which she prepared from scratch) and I told her it was so delicious. She said, “This store chicken is not tasty at all. Wild chicken tastes better, more flavor.” My mother’s right. She lived organic before organic was crowned Prom Queen.

She wasn’t afraid of flavor. I have memories of her eating fruit bat stew (images of the fanihi's bared teeth swimming in coconut milk broth still haunt me). I remember my mom slurping on a boiled egg (balut) with a tiny, mostly formed baby chick peeking out. I’m not about to go ranch food crazy here, but my point is that my mom knew flavor. She craves fresh vegetables (often she complains of the outrageous prices on Guam for green onions)—won’t name the store, but there are only a few Korean markets on island.

I find some of the tastiest dishes have the simplest ingredients. Guacamole (avocado, cilantro, tomato, onion, lime) = magic. That tomato salad for bruschetta…who knew tomato, olive oil and garlic could be so crave worthy. Soft mozzarella on slices of tomato with fresh basil—forget about it. I didn’t try oatmeal until I married and moved to SoCal…tragic really.

What am I going on about? Just sharing an observation about food. How I want my children to enjoy true, rustic, tasty, healthy foods in their most true forms. I guess with aging, my concerns about what I put into my body surface. Work in progress…definitely.

ESTA LATER!

Chamorro Cultural Fest--A Party I'll Never Forget!

It’s been 5 days since CHE’LU’s Chamorro Cultural Fest in San Diego and I believe I’m physically recovered. Having Guam Books and Beads there for its second year was wonderful.

I met many friends, relatives and supporters. My favorite encounters were with former JFKHS students. I feel a sense of security in our heritage when I see that they have grown into successful adults with families and some with the cutest nenis ever!

The fest was buzzing from sunrise to sunset and with the dedicated Board of Directors and committee volunteers our mission was accomplished:

Chamorro Hands in Education Links Unity (CHE’LU) is dedicated to the Chamorro community by strengthening our native language, culture and health through education.

I was happy to see the enthusiasm of vendors, many skeptical of their first time at the fest and later hearing wonderful feedback about their experience. Having Marissa Borja and John Damian from Pacific Home and Garden on Guam cover the fest was a great reprise. Can’t wait to watch the coverage soon. I love that many traveled from Guam to participate...ie, Judy Flores-Batik Artist, Chris Malafunkshun, Lt. Gov. Ray Tenorio, Zoriesonly-Doyon Ahn and the talents of Vince Reyes and Inetnon Gefpa'go. And to the vendors who shared their products from all over the mainland, thank you! (Gerard Aflague, Bahakke Brand and Tony Mesa-Hafabrown Designs).

Another favorite moment was getting a visit from Kat Gardner, author of Myths of Guam from the 80s. Her support of our writing efforts was wonderful validation.

Our tireless photographer, Bryson Kim captured everything! His wonderful photos help preserve the event and are a testament that the Chamorro spirit lives on.

Entertainment was packed and the amphitheater never saw a dull moment.

I’m happy to be a part of such a wonderful group as CHE’LU. Our team is working on all cylinders and supports each other with love.

With that said, no matter where the Navy takes me and my family, I know that I will do my best to make the trek back to San Diego--the one city that CHE’LU has established as the Chamorro Cultural hub of the west coast. Until March 2013, Biba Chamorro!

My favorite part of the music line up, Jason J. Alex Lugwa...Mighty Mellow Massive.

www.chelusd.org

This Blog Entry is a Shameless Attempt to Solicit Votes for My Book, Attitude 13! Go, Tritons!

“You create your opportunities by asking for them.”--Shakti Gawain

With that said, I’m casting my talaya (fishing net) via the inter-“net” to garner votes for my book, Attitude 13: A Daughter of Guam’s Collection of Short Stories (2010 Authorhouse).

My Alma mater, University of Guam is celebrating its 60th Anniversary and to commemorate this, they are selecting “60 for 60” books for their Robert F. Kennedy Library. In their words, “Help by voting for book titles that you believe shares the history, culture, literature, and life of Guam or Micronesia.”

I found out my book was nominated because a poetic colleague, Craig Santos Perez posted it on Facebook. (Please BOTA for him too! Under the GUAM section, "from unincorporated territory" by Craig Santos Perez (2008 and 2010) [poetry]). Curious, I wanted to see if Attitude 13 or Sirena, or my mali—Alison Taimanglo Cuasay’s book Tasi and Matina made the nomination list (you can add these titles to the suggestion portion of the survey too).

I was excited to see Attitude 13 under the Juvenile/Young Adult section. My Facebook and email barrage began immediately. I am ending my tirade with a blog entry because I’m excited (and I would love for you to Bota/Vote!).

Another wonderful Chamorro cultural partner is batik artist, Judy Selk Flores, Ph.D. with her work also under the GUAM section, "Estorian Inalahan: history of a Spanish-era village in Guam" by Judith Selk Flores (2011). Bota, bota!

There are so many wonderful Chamorro authors/poets to choose from and I’m glad UOG is doing this! Voting continues through April 2nd and the winners will be announced on April 30th.

In advance, I thank you for your vote!
Please cut and paste the following link to vote under JUVENILE/YOUNG ADULT, Attitude 13 Tanya Taimanglo http://www.uog.edu/dynamicdata/SpecialEvents.aspx?siteid=5&p=960

ESTA LATER!

Happy Birthday to Me?

"It takes a long time to grow young."--Pablo Picasso

Okay, I’m 38 years old. I remember being 13 and thinking, “Eww, 30-somethings are so old!” But, here I am and I feel like I’m still growing as a person. Does that ever stop? At this point, I don’t think so. Now, I look at 13 year olds and think, “Aww, they’re so young!” I often feel so sad when I hear of a twenty something on the news losing their life, thinking, “Wow, he’s still a baby!” I guess that makes Justin Bieber a zygote to me.
Well, being from Guam and knowing that they are one day ahead, I’ve had the blessings of birthday well-wishers for two days straight, and I love it. It’s amazing how a simple greeting from someone on your Facebook wall can make you smile, especially if it’s from someone on your list you deemed dormant since you and he or she have not made any contact aside from being on each other’s list. I’ve spent the last day and a half thanking each person with a comment.
So, I have much to be thankful for as I venture into my 38th year. Wonderful children who keep me on my toes, a supporting thoughtful husband who works hard for our family and a great circle of family and friends.

Below (My father, Tedy Gamboa Chargualaf and a 3 year old me! Circa Asan, Guam 1977).

The one thing I miss on my birthday is my dad. He died five years ago this month. I could always depend on a thoughtful card signed in his beautiful handwriting. He was always good about remembering people on their birthdays, especially his children and his god children. That is something I hold true in my life. The year before I got married, I asked my dad if he thought throwing a Power Puff Girl party was a good idea (my favorite cartoon then). It was for my 29th birthday. He excitedly said, "Yeah! And let's get a jumpy house!" So, we did. And we had a pinata for the kids and adults and a ton of food, family and friends. It was a blast! So, with my father and my memories of him fresh in my head today, thanks everyone for making another birthday wonderful.

Oh, and I’m excited to say that I will have another appearance in the University of Guam’s Storyboard 12. (I have poetry in Storyboard 6 and two short stories in Storyboard 11).

Receiving the e-mail from the editor late last night was a welcomed birthday gift. “Reach” is a short story I wrote about my mom and her journey from South Korea to Guam. I will be featured with 27 other artists/writers selected by blind review from over 180 entries. For that, I’m proud and excited! Biba Chamorro Writing!

On Being Chamorro...

“Fine manners need the support of fine manners in others.”
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

This is my personal take on being Chamorro. It’s not a matter of “how much” Chamorro I am—although there have been many times when I had to prove my percentage, but for clarity, my late father is Chamorro and my mother is Korean. I grew up on Guam and was essentially raised in a Chamorro household with my wonderful mother adopting, implementing and educating us in the ways of being Chamorro. Don’t get me wrong, kim chee was and is a staple in our home. And many of my self-deprecating and accommodating manners are ingrained in my DNA from being Asian, and I love it.

Being a part of CHE’LU, Chamorro Hands in Education Links Unity, has been an ethnic lifesaver for me--one who married a Chamorro man and left the island in 2004. I feared leaving the island because I didn’t know a life outside of it. I was comfortable in my teaching career. And because of cultural norms, I was fine having my mom and dad living in the home they helped me purchase in Mangilao. I was 25 and my father’s one goal for his children was to give us a leg up in obtaining our own “hut.” Being the only daughter, naturally they followed me to this new home and we settled in, my dad saying, “Girl, mom and I will move out when you get married.” Newly single at the time and resigned to the idea that I could live the rest of my life solo, I was okay with that, even thankful. And when my parents began getting blueprints drawn up to build a studio on the same property so they could be extra near, I was still okay. This was the Chamorro way after all. Being “near” and being “supportive.” Some might say, parents never really letting go, but I turned out okay, I believe.

When I lost my father in 2007, I was set adrift. I had no direct, trustworthy source to my ethnic heritage. Just because you grow up on Guam, doesn’t mean you have a total appreciation of your culture, the language and the customs. I’ve never even been to Talofofo Falls! That’s how I explain taking my island for granted to others.

So, leaving Guam again after my father’s funeral (his 5th year death anniversary is this March 31st), I feared for my cultural preservation, for the type of Chamorros my children would be. I wanted them to have their Tata Tedy in their lives, but fate would dictate otherwise.

Fast forward to 2010, when Alison, my mali’ and I formed Guam Books and Beads. I didn’t start our business to make a statement, but to pay homage to my heritage and mostly my father. The statement came naturally afterward. The books I authored and share with my kid brother artist, Sonny, were meant to be something tangible for my children. I’ve received praise from old friends, family and new friends. What I’ve noticed is that some people in my circle either do one of three things: 1. praise/support me, 2. ignore me, 3. attempt to criticize/belittle my endeavors. I’ve grown a thick skin in the last two years. I embrace those who have a kind word. Even, critical, like the “uncle” who bought my book, read it and proudly pointed out a typo within the first half hour of my first major event. Anyone who knows me—control Type A, perfectionist when it comes to my writing, knows that his actions were an affront. (But, I digress. I smiled at “uncle” and thanked him.) I appreciate friends and family who provide support and encouragement. And, more importantly, I ignore category 3. Pile on the constructive criticism, but not the destructive toxic words.

I’ve found that as the timer counts down to the 3rd Chamorro Cultural Fest, the supporters of our work are shining through. I thank them. If we are to survive as a people, we need more positive energy. We need to network. We need to extract the Chamorro pride in some, which is dormant. Don’t allow your children, teenagers to roll their eyes at being from Guam.

Since I was a child, and being a person whose face can confuse people (I’ve been greeted by Filipinos, Chinese, Hawaiians, Vietnamese, Mexicans…etc as one of their own, you get the point), I’ve always had to prove my “Chamorro-ness”. I guess it’s something I will continue to do. I am a spokesperson to the non-Chamorros who wonder about Guam and Chamorros. I educate them on my experience, on what I know to be true. If you are creating a product or providing a spotlight for our culture, then I’ll be a cheerleader for you! We need this networking to be strengthened and not torn down by our own people.

I’ve heard some in our community say that we aren’t an industrious, business minded people. Not True! I’ve heard that we keep our own kind down. Maybe somewhat. But, I’m working on the spotlight I have to redirect it into the darkness for others to come forth. I want to see our people doing well, finding success and more importantly SUPPORTING each other. Like the Latte Stone that is symbolic for our people, our definition of it has changed over time. It used to be a functional and symbolic tool to show status. They elevated the huts high off the ground where the lower class live. Now, it’s a universal symbol that means, I AM CHAMORRO. So, there is hope for our community to strengthen, to change our mindsets, to become better, contributing individuals to our world, no matter where we reside.

Do we have one million Chamorros in the world? I wonder. I doubt it. Yes, we’re kind of everywhere, but what are the stats? We’ve been on the US Census and from the facts I’ve heard and read, there are 140,000 Chamorros on the mainland. The 2000 US Census documented over 92,000 Chamorros/Part Chamorros nationwide.

Do we want to perpetuate our culture and our people? Heck, yes. And next time you see your fellow Chamorro doing something good for the culture, please applaud their efforts, spread the word and thank them. Because we’ve come a long way, baby. From the first, indigenous Chamorros who set foot on Guam 4,000 years ago, I’m proud to say I’m part of the lineage. I'm a survivor. You should be too, even if only your pinky finger is Chamorro.

With that said, I say, Si Yu’os Ma’ase to those who have supported me and my books. I am back in the “labs” working on three new projects (Puntan and Fu'una, Attitude 13 VOLUME 2 and Shades of Chamorro)

ESTA LATER!