Accents
By Julia Carreon-Lagoc

I have been to Hell

I have been to Hell. And came out none the worse for wear—folks would say that in relief after surviving a hellish time. I have been to Hell, honest. And I can swear “Cross my heart and hope to die come thunder and lightning,” like we used to cry out during those teenage days when we would strongly profess innocence. Or go Shakespearean, and Romeo-like, “swear by the inconstant moon that nightly changes.”

This Hell is no joke, or well, almost. In my case, the word impeach has become synonymous with migraine . Instead of taking acetaminophen, however, I choose to write about Hell before making a complete detour to join the parliament of the streets. A hell of a laugh we'll have. Good for me and good for you.

Hell is the name of a town in Grand Cayman Islands, one of the itinerary stops in the Caribbean cruise we took in 2003. My booklet shows the exact date: April 29. Tourists walk on a plank and look down at a charcoal-black area about a hectare wide. Protruding from the ground are charred stones with sharp, jagged edges that resemble spikes. Misshapen nature so named has drawn tourists to Hell. My grandson James Raphael was a smiling Lucifer, his face coming out from the hollow head of the devil's carved figure as visitors lined up for a snapshot. My son-in-law Timothy dropped by the post office to send his officemates a souvenir card bearing Hell's postmark.

Most often, tour brochures exaggerate, and Hell is no exception. In Hell's case, it is the name that attracts rather than the appearance of the place. No fire and brimstone here. Hell is a let-down if one had conjured in his mind the image of agonizing, burning souls. In placid, laid-back Hell, it is the tourists that make the noise.

So much for Hell. It is not a place to linger even with the cool breeze of Grand Cayman, verdant greens, and the sunshine of the Caribbean.

In the 1997-released Words at Play - Quips, Quirks & Oddities by O.V. Michaelsen, an author-autographed book gifted to me by my friend Justin Skywatcher, the unusual names of people, places, and things are simply amazing. There are a lot of unusual place-names: Eros, Louisiana; French Lick, Indiana; Nutsville, Virginia; Stab, Kentucky; another Hell in both Michigan and Norway; Silly, Belgium, etc., etc. And you gotta believe it, there's a Nameless Road in a Nameless Valley in Texas. What? People just run out of names?

Lest I confuse you, let me just quote verbatim these two paragraphs:

“In Lima, Ohio, there is a North Street that runs east and west, and a West Street that runs north and south. North Street is, of course, divided into East North Street and West North Street. West Street is divided into North West Street and South West Street. It only gets confusing when West North Street and North West Street intersect, but no one there seems to mind.

“In Jackson, Mississippi, North, West, and East streets run north and south, and South runs east and west. South intersects South West, but North runs out before it can cross South, and East is southwest of South, West, and North.” Whew-w-w! Enough already! I leave it to the reader to figure that out.

What about odd names of places in the Philippines? Perhaps somebody might want to make a compendium of unusual names of barangays, towns, and cities in our country. My contribution to that list is Sexmoan in Pampanga. I don't know if the townspeople there got peeved by the snickers the name evokes, but they simply changed it to the now more popular Sasmuan. And Sasmuan it is on the label of their delicacies sold in a downtown mall. A safe-sex name if ever there is one

Now for a coup de grace to this name game. Do you know that in Jaro we had once a House of Sin which is now a House of Angels? When Cardinal Sin was archbishop of the Jaro archdiocese before he became archbishop of Manila, he would say to visitors, “Welcome to the House of Sin.” Now, it is said, Archbishop Angel Lagdameo would greet visitors, “Welcome to the House of Angels!” (Comments to lagoc@hargray.com)