Memories Engraved By The Ash

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An Analysis of a 21st Century Philippine Literature entitled

Home of the Ashfall

by 

John Jack Wigley

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"We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now." 

Martin Luther King, Jr.

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BACKGROUND

John Jack Wigley, the author of Home of the Ashfall, was born and raised on the 25th of December in Angeles, Pampanga - Region III. His father was a US soldier at Clark Airbase, and his mother was a bar girl in Angeles. A former Director of the UST Publishing House, he is an Associate Professor at the UST Faculty of Arts and Letters and a Research Fellow of the UST Research Center for Culture, Arts and the Humanities.

Biographical / Authorial Information:

• Degrees:

• Doctor of Philosophy in Literature,(Cum Laude), University of Santo Tomas – Manila, Philippines, 2012.

• Master of Arts in Literature, University of Santo Tomas - Manila, Philippines, 2004.

• Bachelor of Arts in English, Holy Angel University – Pampanga, 1989.

• Research Interest:

• Creative Writing.

• Nonfiction.

• Teaching of Literature.

• Philippine Literatures.

• World Literatures.

• Pop Culture.

• Feminism.

• Film and Literature.

• Cultural Studies.

• Published Book, Research and Creative Works:

• Hantong: Mga Kuwento,UST Publishing House, 2018.

• Lait (pa more) Chronicles, Visprint Publishing, 2017.

• Lait Chronicles, Visprint Publishing, 2016.

• Home of the Ashfall: A Memoir, UST Publishing House, 2014.

• Falling into the Manhole: A Memoir, UST Publishing House, 2012.

• Co-Author, Telling the Truth: The Art of Creative Nonfiction, C&E Publishing, Inc. (forthcoming).

• Co-Author, Wording the World: The Art of Creative Writing, C&E Publishing, Inc., 2017.

• Co-Author, In Synch: Edith Tiempo Made Easy, UST Varsitarian, 2010.

• Co-Author, Philippine Literatures: Texts, Themes, Approaches, UST Publishing House, 2009.

• Published Stories, Essays, Articles in Journals, Magazines, Books or Literary Folio:

• “Bui Doi in the City of Angels,” Transcend: Experiencing Literature in the 21st Century, Books, Atbp., 2016.

• “Foreword,” Dapitan 2016: Cosmos.

• “American Visa,” LEAP+ Magazine of Asia Pacific Writers and Translators, 2015 APWT Conference, 2015.

• “The Fancy Dancer,” Esquire Magazine Philippines, Vol. 3, No. 9, July 2014.

• “The Grand CCP Performance,” Montage, the Literary Issue of the Varsitarian, Vol.12, 2014.

• “The Fancy Dancer,” Esquire Philippines Magazine, Edited by Angelo R. Lacuesta, July 2014.

• “American Visa,” Dapitan 2014 – the Literary Folio of The Flame, Edited by Carlomar A. Daoana, 2014.

• “Mother’s Passing,” Tomas 3 – the Literary Journal of UST Center for Creative Writing and Literary Studies, April 2014.

• “Bui Doi in the City of Angels,” Silliman University Journal, October 2013.

• “The Queen City of the Angels,” FEU English and Literature Journal, Vol. 6, 2012.

• “Bui Doi in the City of Angels,” Tomas 1 – the Literary Journal of UST Center for Creative Writing and Literary Studies, November 2012.

• “Coping with a Sick Parent,” Dapitan – the Literary Folio of The Flame, Vol. I, No. 6. Edited by Eric Melendez, 2011.

• “Woman’s Worn Wardrobe: Articulating the Female Clothes and Accessories in Cecilia Manguerra-Brainard’s Stories,” UNITAS, June 2009.

• “Body Language: Interrogating the Female Body as Discourse in Literature and Media,” UNITAS, December 2008.

• “From Waxing to Waning: Woman’s Psychosexual Development in the Short Fiction of Filipino American Filipino Writers,” UNITAS, December 2007.

• “Fictionalized Bodies: The Representations of the Female Body in the Short Stories of Cecilia Manguerra-Brainard,” UNITAS, September 2004.

• Awards and Recognition:

• Finalist, Best Book in Nonfiction Prose in Filipino for Lait Chronicles, National Book Awards, September 2017.

• Finalist, Gawad San Alberto Magno (Best Creative / Artistic Work), Dangal ng UST Awards for Lait Chronicles, March 15, 2017.

• Most Outstanding Teacher in the Basic Sciences, UST Department of Occupational Therapy, 2004, 2005, 2007, 2008, 2011, 2015 & 2016.

• Most Outstanding Teacher in the Basic Sciences, UST Department of Speech-Language Pathology, 2014, 2016.

• Most Outstanding Teacher in the Basic Sciences, UST Department of Physical Therapy, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2007, 2008, 2010, 2011, 2014, 2015.

• Nominee, Most Outstanding Academic Staff Award, Rotaract Club of the UST College of Rehabilitation Sciences, UST, February 28, 2015.

• Most Outstanding Faculty, College of Rehabilitation Sciences’ 40th Foundation Anniversary, CRS@40: Forty Years of Commitment, Resilience and Success. Sofitel Philippine Plaza Hotel, December 10, 2014.

• Best Book (Gawad San Alberto Magno), Falling into the Manhole: A Memoir, 15th Dangal ng UST, March 5, 2014.

• Finalist, 2013 Madrigal-Gonzalez Best First Book Award, Falling into the Manhole: A Memoir, December 6, 2013.

Textual Information:

• Year Published:

• Home of the Ashfall was published in December 2014 by UST Publishing House.

Sociocultural Information:

John Jack Wigley, wrote the book during his insights and experience on the eruption. He uses a first person view to speak directly to the readers.

• Important Events:

• Board Member, Filipinas Licensing Society, Inc. (FILCOLS), 2016-2018.

• Board Member, Academic Booksellers Association of the Philippines (ABAP), 2017-2018.

• Chair, Committee on Programs and Projects, Academic Booksellers Association of the Philippines (ABAP), 2017-2018.

• Board Member, Book Development Association of the Philippines (BDAP), 2015-2017.

• Treasurer, Book Development Association of the Philippines (BDAP), 2015-2017

• Member, Committee on Programs and Projects, Book Development Association of the Philippines (BDAP), 2015-2017.

• Member, Committee on Industry Grants, Book Development Association of the Philippines, 2015-2017.

• Treasurer and Committee Chair on Membership, Book Development Association of the Philippines (BDAP), 2013-2015.

• Vice-President, Philippine Association of Scholarly and Academic Publishers (PASAP), 2013-2015.

• Member, National Commission on Literary Arts, National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA).

• Member, Philippine Center of International PEN (Poets and Playwrights, Essayists and Novelists).

• Member, Unyon ng mga Manunulat sa Pilipinas (UMPIL).

• Every December 25, birthday celebration.

• Baptism and Christening.

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HOME OF THE ASHFALL

John Jack Wigley
Pampanga

The eruption of Mount Pinatubo was recorded as the second largest terrestrial eruption of the 20th century, and the largest eruption to affect a densely populated area. Ash fall, which formed a weighty, rain-drenched snow-like film, affected almost the entire island of Luzon, and even reached the neighboring countries of Malaysia and Vietnam. It was further aggravated because of Typhoon Yunya, which brought with it heavy rains and strong winds. To the Kapampangans and to the people affected by this tragedy, it would serve as a testament to their irrepressibility of rising above their plight and predicament.

I was no longer living in Angeles city when Mt. Pinatubo erupted on June 15, 1991. I was promoted from being a crew member at Pizza Hut Dau to management trainee at Pizza Hut Harrison Plaza in December 1990. After being a service crew member for more than four years and graduating from college in 1989, I had to say goodbye to my hometown where I lived for more than two decades. It was my first time working in Manila. I asked the assistance of ed Calupitan, a fellow Pizza Hut Dau crew member now based in Manila, to help me find a place to stay. He was living in a two-bedroom apartment and gladly offered the other room to me.

Weeks before the eruption, I read several news and warnings about Mt. Pinatubo. Frankly, I never knew that there was a volcano in the Zambales mountain range. Nobody among my Kapampangan friends did. I guess we were all clueless about the impending danger this would cause in our lives. Later on, I realized that the summit of the volcano was just fourteen kilometers away from the extent of Clark Air Base. I thought that volcanoes were conspicuous mountains and had fierce-looking summits like Mayon’s and Halcon. But this one was deeply hidden among the several mountains called the “Cabusilan Mountains” of Zambales. How a volcano had managed to hide among the mountains and be covered with a dense forest was something I couldn’t comprehend. If it was bound to erupt, I guess it would be just like a firecracker.

Hell, I thought that if there was a mountain near us which I imagined would erupt anytime, it would be the Arayat, which was located at the heart of Pampanga, with its open mouth and forbidding countenance. Not this obscure mountain whose native inhabitants, the Aetas, never even knew about.

I paid no more attention to the warnings.

I had only been in Manila for barely six months and was enjoying my new-found independence. I would sometimes go to Angeles City to see Mother during days-off, which usually fell on a weekday, since management people did not have the luxury of a day-off during weekends because it was the time when more people would go out and eat. Pizza Hut Harrison Plaza was a high-volume unit.

That fateful day, after my opening shift, I went to see a film. It was “Hihintayin Kita Sa Langit,” a film adaptation of Bronte’s “Wuthering Heights” directed by Carlitos Siguion Reyna. The film starred erstwhile lovers played by Richard Gomez and Dawn Zulueta. I was feeling all mushy and melodramatic after watching the film when, once outside, I saw parked cars covered with what seemed like a whitish-gray blanket. And so were the streets. It is finally snowing in Manila? I thought, as I felt some of the particles on my hand and smudged my shirt. When I looked closely and touched them, they were grainy. It was like ash from an ashtray.

“What has happened?” I asked the guard on duty.

“Di ko po alam, ser. Pero kanina pa ‘yan,” he apologetically said.

I went back to Pizza Hut and asked my colleagues about it.

“Naku, pumutok na yung Pinatubo. Hanggang dito nakarating yung ashfall,” said the assistant manager.

I got worried. I wanted to go to Angeles City that instant but I realized that my day-off wouldn’t be until Monday. Classes had only just begun and we were undermanned. Besides, I didn’t know the extent of the eruption at that time so I presumed it was not really a big deal. We didn’t have a telephone and so I didn’t have any way of knowing how my family was doing. Mother lived with my brother and his three kids at that time. I planned to go to Angeles City that Monday.

But the monthly staff meeting of the pizza outlet was scheduled on that day. Thus, I failed to go to the province again. I was in charge of the weekly marketing activities of the store. We had a thorough back-to-school promo for the students so I had to reset my plan for the following week. I specifically requested the store manager that I be excused the next week so I could see my family in the province.

That Monday morning, I went to the Philippine Rabbit bus terminal station. I learned that they didn’t have trips the past week because the roads were covered with lahar and were therefore, impassable.

I heard Kapampangan passengers converse with one another about the gravity of the calamity. “Keng Bacolor, mengatabunan la kanu deng bale. Alang mitagan. Houses are said to be buried deep in Bacolor. And only the bell tower of the church is visible because the whole structure is sunk deep in the lahar. Everything had been washed out.”

“Pity the residents. Makalunus la rugu deng tau. Until now, there is still no electricity in many areas,” cried the other.

The third guy exclaimed, “A lot of them are now evacuated in elementary schools and public basketball courts. They are waiting for food and assistance from the government. Pero asneng kabagal kanu deng daratang a saup ken gubyerno. Makalukami!”

I wanted to butt in and engage in their conversation too, but I felt I had nothing to share with them. I was guilty for not having responded immediately. I hoped that nothing like this had happened to my family. On the bus I prayed hard, harder than I ever did before.

The bus would have gone as far as the Angeles City bus terminal but the driver said that the Abacan bridge had collapsed a few days ago. “Hangga namu keni ing saken. Den bisang munta Angeles, tipa kayu keng sapa at lumakad na kayu karin. This is as far as we could take you. Those who are bound for Angeles, you have to go down the river and across to the side.”

I got off the bus and my legs shook upon seeing the devastated city I had lived in for twenty one years-the city I have always called my city of angels. Now, it was like a ghost town. The houses were covered with gray ash and the trees looked like folded umbrellas at the onset of the storm. The streets were muddy all over the cars were abandoned everywhere, very much like in a horror film where people were nowhere because the zombies had taken over the place. Aetas and beggars with ragged clothes wrapped around their heads were holding out their hands for alms. I wanted to cry. I imagined how  Scarlett O’Hara must have felt the first time she went home to Tara after the war and seeing that her place was all in shambles. It was painful to witness what had become of my city.

The strong Abacan bridge had really collapsed, some of its boulders blocking the river’s path. Two of the columns were still mighty standing but the rest had probably been washed away by the current. I shook in disbelief. This mighty bridge had been witness to some of my remarkable experiences in the city. This was the bridge where Mother found me when I was lost at six. It’s all gone now.

I saw farther down the riverbank that were lining up to cross the river by stepping on coconut trunks and wooden poles attached from one end to other. The gaunt shirtless boy who was juggling coins and walking to and fro shouted, “Pesus mu, Deng bisang lumakad papunta Angeles, keni na kayo bang ali la mabasa deng bitis yu. For one peso, take this trail and your feet won’t get wet in the river.” I was about to fall in line but I realized that there was a long queue of people already as far as the bend, waiting for their turn to get across the river.

It would take me forever to get to the other side if I fell in line, I thought. I talked to the person behind me. “Malalam ya pu ing danum, Is the water deep?”

“Tabalu. Bala mu, malalam pun. I don’t know. It’s deep, I guess,” he immediately rejoined. “Lawen me itang tau, angga ne keng atyan na. Look at the guy crossing. The water’s up to his tummy,” he said, pointing to the man.

It was deep, I contemplated. I didn’t want to take the risk of getting my clothes wet. I was also thinking that perhaps the water that flowed down the river was contaminated because of the volcanic ash and the sulfuric content of the water.

Just then I saw about four barkers holding wooden chairs, inviting people to cross the river on these chairs. They explained that people would be sitting on the chair and the barkers themselves would carry the chair to the other side for a fee of ten pesos. Despite the horrible sight before me, I forced a smile. I was thinking about how indestructible humans are. These people were struggling to live even if catastrophes like typhoons and volcanic eruptions had struck. Catastrophes constantly plagued their lives. I felt deep admiration for them.

One barker thought my smile was an indication that I wanted to ride in the chair. “Bisa kang sake. Would you like to ride?” he asked.

I was meaning to say no but I was speechless, still taking everything in. Besides, I wanted to see my family. I nodded my head.

“Koya, padagdag naku mu keka ne. Kasi lupa kang mabayat. I’ll charge you extra. You look heavy,” the barker smiled fully, revealing he had no teeth.

For a moment, I wanted to pull his hair and drown his head in the river. This impertinent one, I thought. He had to subtly insult my chubby body. But I surmised that he meant well. It was not going to be easy carrying me to the other side of the river. I just simply agreed.

I sat on the chair and put the bag on my lap. The barker clasped an improvised rope seatbelt from one end to the other. Yeah, like I would experience a terrible accident by forgetting to use this seatbelt, I thought sarcastically.

“Just hold the chair’s handles, sir. It’s good that you came this early. Potang gatganapun, ali tana makapunta karin uling malalam ne ing danum. Later in the afternoon, we won’t be able to cross because of the deep water,” the barker enthusiastically said.

As he started lifting the chair, I felt that I was sliding down. The fabric of my pants was slippery. “Saguli. Kala-kalale. Wait, careful! Manabu ku! I’m falling,” I cried.

The barker halted for a second and adjusted the weight on his arms. I wiggled momentarily and after a while, I instructed him to carry on. He looked at me and then smiled blissfully.

First, it was my body weight. Then I sensed that he was mocking me because he thought I was a sissy. I turned back to the other barkers, and they were all carrying passengers, all of whom were women. One was carrying an older woman with a cane. I saw the men and they were braving the river. Oh dear, now all these barkers would regard me as the only man in the Abacan river who did not want to get his feet wet. Why hadn’t I decided early on to just cross the river? Now, I feel guilty that I had to subject this cadaver-looking barker to such pain and suffering by carrying me, the queen, all my 160-pound royalty for a measly 15 pesos. I shook my head of all this guilt away. Well, too bad, I thought. I had the money which you hadn’t. Sorry. Even in ancient times, slaves laboriously carried their obese masters. History repeats itself, I tried to reason out in my thoughts.

When we got to the middle of the river, I closed my eyes, not because I was afraid of the water, but because I was worried that the barker wouldn’t be able to cross it, with me as his burden. The water was already knee-deep. He wasn’t even wearing any footer. What if he slid down because he stepped on a rock or a hole under the water?

But he was very much focused. His steps were slow but cautious. I wanted to talk to him so that my mind would be distracted from worrying, but I felt that he needed full concentration to get us through. I just held on to the hand rest of the chair.

I imagined that poor people have always exhibited their resilience this way. When calamities happen, they are the first ones to suffer the initial blows. Yet, they survive and eventually thrive. They just need to go slow and sure. The rich and the middle class are alienated from this kind of survival strategy. That is why much is lost in them when things go down. But not the poor; they are like fungi. They don't die. They morph after a catastrophe. 

We got to the other end of the river. The barker found a coarse spot where he could put down the chair. He was panting heavily, beads of sweat dripping from his temples. I thanked him and handed a twenty peso bill. He looked grateful and smiled. I was waiting for him to utter an insulting remark so l could give him the sermon of the day. But he didn't.

“Dacal a salamat pu, koya. Thank you. Pantunan mu naku mu potang bisa nakang mibalik keng sumangid. Hatad daka. Just look for me when you want to cross the river going back. I'll take you," he said as he nodded his head approvingly, once again showing his toothless mouth.

“Sige pu, salamat mu rin," I replied.

There was hardly any roving jeepney at all when I climbed up the gully. Tricycles were waiting at the corner, but I chose not to ride in one. I decided to walk. The house was only about five minutes away anyway.

As I was walking, I thought about what the future would hold for this city I loved. Kapampangans are known to be a proud people. I only wished that they would get past all this soon. I was hoping that I would also see my family complete and in the best of health. My steps got quicker. I started to run.

At the threshold of the house, I saw Mother carrying a bundle of laundry. When she saw me, she smiled and patted my arm.

I was puzzled to see her carrying a load. "Where are you going? I just got here. I was so worried about you. Where is Kate and her family, are they okay?" I asked.

Mother placed the bundle on the table and tightened it. "They're all okay, thank God. I'm going to Dau to give this to your ate."

“What, are you serious?" I was shocked by Mother's retort. “The Abacan bridge has collapsed, didn't you know? How are you going to get to Dau?"

"I know that the Abacan bridge is no more," Mother said pensively. “I've been to Dau and back. Twice already. There are still barkers that lift chairs down there in the river, aren't there?`` She looked at me.

I was aghast to hear this from her. "You mean you want to go down the river? You are not afraid?"

“Why should I be afraid?" Mother interrupted. “Only the old ones are afraid to cross the river. I am not that old. Besides, you're here to keep me company, right? I'll cook your favorite ginataang kamansi."

I was dumbfounded. Mother was unbelievable.

"Hurry up! The river gets deeper in the afternoon," Mother shouted. "Let's go.”

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ANALYSIS

Literary Genre:

Creative nonfiction is a genre of writing that uses literary styles and techniques to create factually accurate narratives. The goal is to make nonfiction stories read like fiction so that your readers are as enthralled by fact as they are by fantasy.” 

      The literary text ‘Home of the Ashfall’ is creative nonfiction written by John Jack Wigley. The text is a memoir based on Wigley’s memories. It focuses on his experiences and insights during the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo. From the very beginning of the text, he described the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo and how it affects the people living in Pampanga and the entire Luzon. He later narrated his life before the eruption took place. He explained how he managed the situation when the volcano already erupted. Wigley also uses some techniques, first is including their dialect in the text which is Kapampangan, like ‘Bisa Kang sake’, which the man asked Wigley if he wants a ride to cross the river. Second, applying some humorous lines in the text, it’s when he said that the barker thought he was a sissy and the other one is when the barker said that he would be charged extra because of his weight. And lastly, the use of figurative language in paragraph 3, when he compared Mt. Pinatubo to a firecracker. This proves that the literary text, Home of the Ashfall, is creative nonfiction.

Analysis Guides:

1. The author is a native of...

1. Metro Manila

2. Dau, Pampanga

3. San Fernando, Pampanga

4. Angeles, Pampanga

 The author is a native of Angeles City, Pampanga. The answer is D.

2. The author thought that the volcano that would most likely erupt would be...

1. Mayon

2. Halcon

3. Pinatubo

4. Arayat

The author thought that the volcano that would most likely erupt would be Mt. Pinatubo. The answer is C.

3. The author was, initially, _____ at the sight of the white-covered surroundings.

1. Scared

2. Overjoyed

3. Curious

4. Angry

The author was, initially, overjoyed at the sight of the white-covered surroundings. Answer is B.

4. At the river, the author’s legs shook because...

1. He was tired from the trip

2. He was so thrilled to be home

3. He was saddened by the appearance of the town

4. He was shocked at the devastation

At the river, the author’s legs shook because he was shocked at the devastation. The answer is D.

5. The author felt embarrassed at being carried because...

1. He thought the barker thought he was sissy

2. He thought he was being mocked for his weight

3. He thought that he could cross the river himself

4. He thought that he would fall of

The author felt embarrassed at being carried because he thought he could cross the river himself. The answer is C.

6. Discuss what the author means by this line: “But not the poor; they are like fungi. They don’t die. They morph after a catastrophe.”

"But not the poor; they are like fungi. They don't die. They morph after a catastrophe.” The author means that the poor cannot end just like Fungi that is very hard to erase. Catastrophe increases the number of poor people. The author uses the word Morph to show poor people increase following a catastrophe and compares that to how fast fungi grow. In conclusion, the authors say that wiping poverty is impossible.

7. What effect does Wigley’s humorous tone have on the essay? Imagine yourself in the situations being described. Would you be able to see the humor there?

People are different, so they will have various ways of how to handle themselves in a particular situation. If ever I find myself in the same position experienced by the author, I think I will have a hard time adapting because I’m not prepared, and it will be my first time. But because Filipinos are naturally joyful people, maybe I can still look at the positive side of the situation.

8. Would a more serious tone have added more meaning to the story? Why or why not? Defend your answer.

Yes, it would bring life to the literary text, Home of the Ashfall. The author's voice and tone are sometimes used interchangeably. They are opposed. The voice of a writer is a reflection of his personality. A writer's tone expresses his attitude toward the subject of his writing. The author's somber tone in the story "Home of the Ashfall" evokes a sense of suspense in the reader. Because the concepts being presented are significant, it boosts our focus.

9. Does the Kapampangan dialogue confuse or enrich the story? Defend your answer.

Wigley interspersed Kapampangan, the language of the population of Pampanga, throughout the dialogue of his essay to establish his distinct writing style. Which gives the dialogue he employs to flesh out the events in his essay more local flavor, making the language more real. The language's exotic sounds create a richer subculture, embellishing what would otherwise be monotonous talks.

10. In the end, how does the author’s mother’s composure reflect Wigley’s own style of writing about the events in the essay?

The mother adjusted quickly with the situation, and that compliments Wigley's humorous style of writing. Demonstrating how the mother's presence was crucial and a composure that must be evidenced.

Contextual Analysis:

There are visible contexts in our literary text entitled Home of the Ashfall by John Jack Wigley, which are the Biographical Context, Linguistic Context, Socio-cultural Context, and Regional Context.  

Using the biographical context, it can be concluded that the memoir “Home of the Ashfall” is all about the experiences and insights of the writer John Jack Wigley himself during the eruption of Mount Pinatubo. Wigley was born and raised in Angeles, Pampanga where the active stratovolcano caldera Mount Pinatubo is located asides from the provinces of Zambales and Tarlac.    

Using the linguistic context,  it can be concluded that the memoir “Home of the Ashfall” written by John Jack Wigley used figurative language and Kapampangan dialect. Using the sociocultural context,  it can be concluded that the memoir “Home of the Ashfall” is all about the tragedy that happened in Angeles, Pampanga, on June 15, 1991, personally experienced by John Jack Wigley. At that time, Wigley thought about how indestructible humans are. Filipino were struggling to live even if catastrophes had struck.

Using the regional context,  it can be concluded that the memoir “Home of the Ashfall” is all about the narration of the happenings during the eruption of the Mt. Pinatubo, as well as its effects on the people living near and around the volcano, by John Jack Wigley.  It has been learned that he was born in Pampanga (Region III) and that he was alive when the eruption happened.  

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SUMMARY

Home of the Ashfall
John Jack Wigley

Home of the Ashfall focuses on the author’s experiences during the eruption of Mt. Pinatubo on June 15, 1991. The eruption was recorded as the second-largest terrestrial eruption of the 20th century, and the largest eruption to affect a densely populated area. The ashfall affected almost the entire island of Luzon and even reached the neighboring countries of Malaysia and Vietnam. In line with that, Typhoon Yunya brought with it heavy rains and strong winds which worsened the situation. John Jack Wigley, the author, is a management trainee at Pizza Hut Harrison Plaza in December 1990. He had lived in Angeles City for more than two decades, but when Mt. Pinatubo erupted, he was no longer living there. Weeks before the eruption, he already read several news and warnings about Mt. Pinatubo. He never knew that there was a volcano in the Zambales Mountain Range. One day, after his opening shift, John Jack Wigley went to see a film. He saw parked cars covered with a whitish-gray blanket. He thought that it was finally snowing in Manila because the streets were also covered with ash. Because of it, Wigley got worried that his family might be unsafe in Angeles City. He decided to go to Angeles City on his day off but the Abacan Bridge had collapsed, so the only thing that he could do was to cross the river. People were having a hard time crossing the river. Some were lining up to cross the river by stepping on coconut trunks and wooden poles attached from one end to the other. However, he saw four barkers holding wooden chairs, inviting people to cross the river on those chairs. They explained that the people would sit on the chair, and the barkers would carry the chair to the other side for a fee of ten pesos. He realized that when calamities happen, even those people are struggling, they still choose to live. One barker asked Wigley if he wanted to take a ride. He was about to say no, but he wanted to see his family, so he nodded his head. The barker said that he will charge an extra fee for Wigley because it seems like he’s heavy. At first, he thinks that the barker is trying to insult his chubby body, but he understands that it would not be easy for the barkers to carry him to the other side of the river, so he agreed. While crossing the river, Wigley realized that the passengers that the barkers were carrying were all women. When they got to the middle of the river, Wigley closed his eyes not because he was afraid of the water but because he was worried that the barker would not be able to cross it. Then, they finally reached the other end of the river. Wigley thanked the barker and gave him a 20-peso bill. As he walked towards his house, he thought about what the future would hold for that city. He was so worried until he got to his house knowing that his family was safe. Wigley saw his mother carrying a bundle of laundry. His mother said that she will go to Dau to give it to Wigley’s ate. He told her mother about the Abacan Bridge that had collapsed, but her mother said that “Only the old ones are afraid to cross the river”.

The memoir is long and sleepy to look at, but when you take a little time to read it, you will never regret it. If you look deeper and appreciate every single event, we can learn a lot. We spent a lot of time and invested lots of effort towards this analysis so that we could execute it and give the memoir the recognition it deserves. We all know that a memoir is a nonfiction narrative writing based on the author's personal memories. Because readers can easily visualize what an author is going through, we may say that the first-person narrative method of storytelling is undeniably effective. We can assume that the author is successful in employing the approaches because we found the essay to be engaging and fascinating to read. Furthermore, we can recall a significant amount of information from the text. We learned some new things as a result of the culture included in the text. Overall, Home of the Ashfall is a great paper because it possesses the qualities that readers seek in writing. One thing we think could be improved is for him to explain more about how other Filipinos acted based on his experiences because he has primarily concentrated on himself.

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REFERENCE

Book:

Wigley, J. J. G. (2014). Home of the Ashfall. UST Publishing House: Manila, Philippines.

Sanchez, L. A., Lizada, M.A. N., Augustin, R. T. B., Cuartero, J. M. B. (2016). 21st-Century Literature from the Philippines and the World. Vibal Group, Inc.

Online Sources:

University of Santo Tomas. (2021b, November 10). WIGLEY, john jack G. -. Retrieved November 17, 2021, from https://www.ust.edu.ph/profile/wigley-john-jack-g/

Cruz, V. A. P. B. A. D. (2018, February 9). Protected: Home of the Ashfall essay by John Wigley: Summary and Analysis. The Sensational Student Guide. Retrieved November 17, 2021, from https://sensationalstudentguide.wordpress.com/2017/11/08/home-of-the-ashfall-analysis/