La Golondrina, the Grandest Kite of All

A Short Story

La Golondrina, the Grandest Kite of All

By Dr Abe V Rotor

Leo Carlo, author's son (right), poses with the winning team  in 

kite flying at the University of Santo Tomas, Manila (circa 2000)

Kites always fascinate me, thanks to Manong Bansiong, nephew of Basang my auntie-yaya. He made the most beautiful, often the biggest kite in town. His name was very popular, especially to us kids in our time. Remote and small a town San Vicente is, we had the reputation in the neighboring towns for our best kites, best pieces of furniture and wooden saints.

Manong Bansiong made different kites: sinang gola, agila, kayyang, golondrina – in the likes of bull, bird with outstretched wings, maiden in colorful, flowing dress, and many other designs. His kites were known for their strength, stability, beauty, and height in the sky. In competitions he would always bring home the trophy, so to speak.

“Can you make me a La Golondrina?” I found myself asking Manong Bansiong one afternoon.

La Golondrina or the swallow has slender streamlined body, and long pointed wings, which allow great maneuverability and endurance, as well as frequent periods of gliding. Her body shape allows for very efficient flight. Her wings have nine primary feathers each, while the tail has 12 feathers and may be deeply forked, somewhat indented, or square-ended. A long tail increases maneuverability, and may also function as adornment.

As a child, I love to watch swallows in flight. And there is something special about them because I discovered their nesting ground in Caniao, the source of water for our faucet. Caniao is a spring on the edge of Cordillera facing the South China Sea, some 20 kilometers away. The swallows would perch of a nearby tree and one particular bird came close and posed to us picnickers. She seemed unafraid and even sang a beautiful melody. I wanted to get closer to have a good look at her, but on sensing my closeness, she took off into the sky and soared like a kite in the wind.

Actually La Golondrina is a difficult design of a kite to make. But Manang Basiong was a real expert. He won’t back out at any kind of kite especially if it is for a kite flying contest. He always wanted his kite to win.

“When will the contest be?” He asked in our dialect.

With that statement and a kindly smile I knew Manong Bansiong would make me one. “Yehay!” I could not help keep it a secret, especially to my classmates.

The day of the contest came. There were many kites from our town and nearby towns. Vigan, the capital of the province had the most entries and the biggest kites at that. When I saw kites with designs of castle, airplane, and dragon, my confidence sagged a little. These kites were huge and colorful, and they dominated the sky.

Manong Bansiong and I were the next to fly our kite. La Golondrina indeed was unique. She was not really very big. I asked my brother Eugene to help me carry her across the field while Manong Bansiong held the string at the other end.

“Farther … some more,” he signaled. “Stop.” He paused and whistled with friendly notes calling for the wind to come. It is a technique in kite flying. Release the kite at the moment a strong breeze comes. We waited for the precious wind.

Then it came. It was a gust that came from the North. It is called Siberian High, the wind that brings in the chills in October, lasting until the end of the Christmas Season. It is the wind of Amihan, the season we harvest our ricefields, when the grains have turned to gold in the sun. It is the season farmers build haystacks (mandala) that look like giant mushrooms. But to us kids, Amihan is the season of kite flying. It is a season of games and laughter in the field.

“Steady now,” Manong Bansiong shouted, and Eugene and I raised La Golondrina up and waited for the signal. “Now!” We tossed her up and there she soared above our heads, above the nearby trees, above the church steeple. Our town mates and my classmates rallied. They followed her ascent, and clapped, coaching her to the top of their voices. “Up, up. Go up some more! More! More!” She mingled with the other kites, bowing here and there, and sometimes flying close to the castle or dragon, and to the airplane kite in some kind of courteous greeting.

Manong Bansiong let the string glide on his hand. It made a crispy whistling sound as the kite continued to rise. Now it was higher than any of the kites. It appeared as if it were the smallest of them, and one won’t recognize her if he did not see her first on the ground Beyond lies the blue Cordillera the home where this beautiful bird. I could see Caniao in the back of my mind. There in the blue sky she hovered steadily, like the lord of the sky. I wondered at how she looked at us down below. I had not flown on an airplane yet. I just imagined we were also just specks on the ground, and if my T-shirt were not red, she would most likely mistake me for any spectator.

Then the unexpected happened. The string broke! La Golondrina was adrift. She was flying free, and she was not coming down. Instead she went farther up riding on some wind current. Everyone was silent. All eyes were focused on the ill-fated kite. Soon it was but a dot in the sky. No one could tell what was going to happen to her.

Manong Bansiong rolled the remaining string back into its cage. “She didn’t get much string.” He muttered. My first impulse was to run to where she would most likely land. “No,” he said, catching me on the shoulder, even if most of the children had gone for the chase.

I remained dumbfounded, staring agape at the wide, wide sky. Time stood still. There was a deafening silence. Nothing seemed to move. Not even the kites.

La Golondrina was swallowed up by a dark cloud and the cloud was heading for the mountains, as it often does, momentarily becoming part of its top like a veil or a blanket. In the Amihan season the cloud is thin and high because the wind is cool and dry. It is also time for birds in the North to go down South, and return in the dry season, but for birds of La Golondrina’s kind, it is time to go home to nest and rear their young.

With that thought, I said, “She’s going home.” Manong Bansiong nodded in submission to the fate of his masterpiece. Eugene had just come back panting, brushing away weeds and dusts. He had given up the chase together with our town mates. Everyone talked about how they crossed the fields, climbed over fences, forge streams and even climbed trees to get better view of the route of the lost kite.

No one reached where La Golondrina landed.

We soon forgot all about the contest as we sadly prepared to go home. The plaza was empty now. It was already dark.

That night I dreamt I found La Golondrina in Caniao, hanging on a branch where I once saw her as a bird. How different she was as the once beautiful La Golondrina.

Manong Bansiong did not make kites anymore since then. But because of him I became a kite maker, too.

But time has changed. Kite flying has become an endangered art. Kids are more interested with other playthings. They would rather stay indoor in front of the TV and the Computer. And they seem to be more serious in their studies than we were then. They seldom go out to the fields. Rivers and forests to them are full of danger. No, their parents won’t allow them to go to these places. In fact many of them have moved to the city. And flying kites in open spaces, is very dangerous, what if the string touches a live wire!

It consoles me to see a kite flying around, whether it is made of simple T-frame or plastic. Or one made in China. How different kites are today from the kites we had before - skillfully crafted bamboo frame covered with colorful delicate papel de Japon, and bearing the imprimatur of the expert maker.

When I had grown old as Manong Bansiong was then, I made kites for children. Of course, I am not as good as him. When Leo Carlo, my youngest son, took part in kite flying at the University of Santo Tomas, I helped him re-create La Golondrina. It was turning back the hands of time. He carried her across the football field with Marlo, his brother helping him, and I, at the other end, held the string. We waited for the old friendly wind.

Then it came, it came all the way from the North, and La Golondrina rode on it, flew above our heads, above the trees, above the grandstand and the chapel and the tall buildings, and up into the blue sky.

La Golondrina is the grandest kite of all. x x x

Flying kites in acrylic, a re-creation from childhood memory by the author

 Kite-Flying Free

By Dr. Abe V. Rotor

If freedom were kites flying

And clouds in summer free;

Lilting sounds across the fields,

Rolling on the hills like sea;

If freedom were the empty fields,

The harvest now stacked asleep,

To wake up little by little

To satiate a craving deep;

If freedom were a wooden bridge

In the idleness of time,

A little bird perched singing

The song of a distant chime;

If freedom were the carefree,

Let the sky clap and the rain to fall;

For summer is for boys designed,

To men they’ll grow after all.

AVR 6-19-08