Gorgonio Analista / Hernando F. Ganon Photo Collection - Under the Sun: Camp Roxas Film Documentary

Gorgonio T. Analista / Hernando F. Ganon

"Film project preserves Filipino spirit"

Norman Analista, March 6, 2009, Pacific Daily News, Hagatna, Guam

Last Sunday I drove to Agat and, by amazing coincidence, I spotted Bernie Provido Schumann and Burt Sardoma Jr. across the Camp Covington area.

Bernie was situated between two aged concrete columns camouflaged by overgrown tangantangan while Burt was positioned behind his camera. I pulled over and learned the ruins were that of the MASDELCO Camp Roxas Recreation Center sign.

"My father said this is where he stayed when he first came to Guam with no money in his pocket," Bernie explained. I called my encounter an "amazing coincidence" because I'd just left my uncle's home after chatting with him about Camp Roxas.

Bernie and Burt are working on the film, "Under the American Sun - Camp Roxas Film Project." The piece traces the epic migration of Filipinos, including skilled laborers and professionals, to Guam. The U.S. government brought the workers in to rebuild military facilities, roads and the island's infrastructure after the devastation of World War II. Camp Roxas housed more than 7,000 workers in barracks.

Most of the Filipinos came from the province of Iloilo. Referred to as "Ilonggos," their roles in rebuilding Guam have, sadly, gone unnoticed or are unknown to younger generations.

To date, a 12-minute short film is done, but the goal is to expand the piece into a 60-minute documentary. So far, the film captures insight into camp life that many of us were oblivious to.

For example, Fred Constantino, a family friend, described the rough, nine-day ship ride to the island, homesickness and the improvised toilets. And Pilar Malilay explained how registered nurses and medical doctors were reclassified as "hospital workers" to avoid higher pay.

My late father also came to Guam through Camp Roxas. However, all I have are crinkled, black-and-white photos from his past. The completion of this project is so meaningful to me because it's a key to understanding a stage in my dad's life that has remained a mystery.

The uncle (on my wife's side) I previously mentioned that I visited is Hernando F. Ganon. "Tito Poy," as we call him, provided insight into his camp experience. He worked as an electrician there for five years and earned $1.07 an hour. He sent most of his earnings back home, and put several siblings through college.

I was intrigued by Tito Poy's mealtime memories. He said chicken was shoveled into huge pots, left unseasoned, and still had plastic tags when served. Or, they just ate the "smelly" tails of pigs.

Therefore, the men sought outside construction projects where they could earn home-cooked meals. He reminisced about the time 15 workers built a one-bedroom home in a day, and were treated to lechon afterward.

The men always carried a spoon. Long after the Camp closed in 1972, the joke was, "How do you know a Pinoy stayed at Camp Roxas?" The answer -- "If he had a spoon in his back pocket!"

My uncle left the camp in 1970 and settled in Agat with his family. Many of his contemporaries did the same, which explains the high population of longtime Ilonggo residents in Agat and Santa Rita.

Tito Poy's perspectives are preserved in this piece -- yet unique stories from other Ilonggos will be lost. If you or your parents have camp memories, pictures, or want to help fund the documentary, please contact the film project team through the Web site, camproxas.com, or simply e-mail me.

The Ilonggo community has interwoven itself into the fabric of Guamanian society for many decades. Our parents' sacrifices have paved the way for us to pursue the hopes and dreams which eluded them. And although they faced certain injustices, they didn't complain, wallow in self-pity, or feel entitled -- they persevered and remained thankful for the opportunity to build better lives.

As the descendants of Camp Roxas workers, we're obliged to preserve this significant period of Guam's history, and to uphold the Filipino spirit -- which has never been known to cower when confronted by hardship.

Norman Analista, is a former broadcast journalist and Filipino-Guamanian.