PARADOXICAL

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Thursday, June 25, 2026

 

Meeting Mudjie Once Again (A Reflection on Names We Didn't Choose to Have)

Meeting Mudjie Once Again (A Reflection on Names We Didn't Choose to Have)


I still feel heady about the day I got to meet again a classmate of mine in college whom we called Mudjie back in the day.

A few days before that, I was surprised to behold his name in big glowing letters as the guest of honor and speaker for the first commencement exerises of our town's newly minted college, the Bayambang Polytechnic College.

You don't forget someone whose name is Mudjekeewis. That kind of name caused a lot of bantering in our class every first day of classes when the new teacher makes a roll call of each enrollee's name. Everyone, of course, wondered aloud what his name was all about. Indeed, why that one name in the long list of possible names for a "full-blooded" Filipino? With arms akimbo, we all demanded to know who his father or mother was, the most likely culprit.

We would have understood it better were it a case of 'combo meal' names, another concrete example of that amusing and very Filipino predilection for halo-halo and chopsuey. For example, an out of the usual name like Delinda must have been from a father named Delfin and a mother named Erlinda. (I remember that old joke about babies being baptized as CelPon and CharGer--to the priest's utter chagrin, because their parents, it turns out, were Celia + Ponsing and Charmaine + Gerry.)

"Teka, classmate ko to ah!" I told everyone who could hear me when I saw the invite for the historic commencement exercises for Bayambang Polytechnic College, our former mayor Cezar Quiambao's long-time dream for our town, which became a reality in our lifetime relatively quickly under his wife Mayor Nina's term and implemented with dispatch by Dr. Rafael Saygo.

Before Mudjie could deliver his speech, I made sure to search him out in the thick crowd and make a quick informal talk and take a quick pic because I know he didn't have much time for small talk.

Good thing I was feeling well enough at the moment to be able to hold a conversation until he came up on stage. Usually, the combination of loud sound, thick crowd, and hot clime is a triple threat for me: I go through a panic attack.

I knew Mudjie -- now Dr. Mudjekeewis Dalisay Santos -- was a great choice for someone to give an inspirational message because I happen to know his background: the first and only scientist in the Philippines to officially reach the Scientist V rank, having contributed much to the status of marine science in the Philippines. While he neither conceived of nor contrived for such an honor, owing to his self-effacing nature and humble background, Mudjekeewis was nevertheless honored by the international scientific community by naming a fish in his name and by an island community in Mindanao by naming an islet after him. Among other impressive achievements, he resurrected a long-defunct fisheries journal to SCOPUS-level status or internationally indexed status and founded a local fishery conference as a hub of innovative ideas.

What a towering set of achievements at such a relatively young age. What was left missing from his minibio, however, was that, like he said, he started small even though he dreamt big. He started out as a mere boy from a poor family in Floridablanca, Pampanga, and just an ordinary college student at UP Baguio. Not many know it, but he is also a member of the UP Vanguard (I was there in one of the platoons when he was a CMT officer.)

"Magaling ka pala!" I told him, and I hope he was not insulted. "Pero 'di ka nagpakita ng galing noon," I backtracked.

To my surprise, he admitted that he was, in fact, a so-so student, whose target was just to pass the subject, not to top the final exams.

The I told him about BPC's founder, businessman and philanthropist, Dr. Cezar Quiambao, about our town being an agricultural town with a modest inland fishery industry, the site of the late lamented Mangabul Lake, and that we have produced at least one national scientist, a zoologist and fish specialist named Carmen Velasquez. The mere mention of the latter lighted up his face -- which didn't change much through the years -- upon the mutual recognition.

When the heat at my own chosen seat in the venue became unbearable to my sickly self, I bolted discreetly and made sure to watch his speech live on Facebook at the nearest office instead where it was cold. He delivered what was to me a great speech--simple, short, yet memorable. It was titled, "What's in a name?"

First off, he focused on etymology. For the first time in decades, I learned that his name is Native American in origin and we can finally blame his father for it. It means "god of wind." His middle name, of course, means "pure" in Tagalog, and his surname means "saint" in Spanish. So literally his name means "mahangin na santo." Idiomatically speaking, "malakas ang kanyang arrive" like Cardo Dalisay (actor Coco Martin's popular TV series character).

But in all humility, he prefers to simply be called "pogi" like Cardo Dalisay and to be remembered as guapo like the fish named after him (pogi perch--Google it, no kidding).

His reflection on his name prompts you reflect on your own name. In my case, my first name, Resty from Restituto (my name in my baptismal) must mean "to restore" in English. (For the record, I never liked my name but for closure had to embrace it because no chioce.) My surname, I went on reflecting, is "tooth" in Greek, so I am basically a "restorer of teeth." This means I was meant to be a dentist, and either I have missed my calling or that my parents gave me the wrong name.

I went home carrying that sad, uneasy thought and a vision of tooth gaps, tooth decay, dental chairs, and missing dentures. I thought that since I became a "writer" against all expectations, I should have been named something like "Parker" (the brand name of a pen, silly). Why would anyone want to be a writer? That's preposterous--I can write, but I have no delusions that I am as good as Conrado de Quiros or Butch Dalisay, no? Of course I wanted to be a doctor like all my peers. But if I were to be a writer according to God's will, my name should have at least been a combination of William (Shakespeare), Umberto (Eco), Milan (Kundera), Garrison (Keilor), and Nick (Joaquin)... Or okay, Haruki (Murakami) would have done the job better.

At this juncture, I invite you to reflect on your own funny name--funny because you didn't get to choose it. Does it mean anything at all? Or it is just a random joke? Was it conceived in wisdom like Jews routinely do? Or in plain stupidity? Why, oh, why did your foolish mom or dad name you Mitsubishi when they could have named you Toyota Fortuner instead?

Anyway, Mudjie's speech was actually not about himself. He just used it as a launching pad for this clincher: "Your name is the one precious thing that you have. Pangalagaan ninyo ang inyong pangalan." Or words to that effect.

If I might add, no matter how odd-sounding it is, your name holds your identity and destiny. You might as well find meaning in it and uphold it with a life that's worth living up to your name.

"Maraming matatalino at magagaling na mga Pilipino, pero karamihan hindi nagsasucceed," he went further as graduation day inspirationals go. "Dahil sa dami ng gustong gawin, walang nagagawa sa bandang huli. Kaya't ang susi sa tagumpay ay focus. Dream big but start small. Then focus on one thing at a time and finish it," he advised. (Wow, sounds like I did something right with my life.)

He wrapped up his message with that most fitting little factoid I shared with him about Carmen Velasquez a few hours ago, so I am amazed no end that he must have made a last-minute revision to his speech.

Even for a brief moment, I am so glad that once again, I was able to see face to face someone who has found his own unique niche in the fragile and complex ecosystem of life and thrived at his specialty, thus giving glory not just for himself but also for his community, his country and its people, and most importantly to the intelligence behind biology, to no other than the author of life.

(More decent photo to follow soon)

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