Getsba World

Para kay Alex *

2010-09-23T21:23:00.002+08:00

Pinasulat kita
ng magasing pambata
pasimplehin mo lang 'kako
nang malaman nila
ang ating rebolusyon,
gawin mong dahan-dahan
hakbang-hakbang,
baytang-baytang
nang matutunan nilang marating
ang kasaysayan.
Subalit pinili mong
maging makata,
at iguhit ang dusa at pasakit,
isabog ang kulay ng poot at paghihimagsik,
sumungkit ng mga pangarap
at gawing buhay
ang ating pakikibaka.
Lampas man ito
sa pang-unawa ng mga paslit,
nag-iwan ka ng bagong henerasyon
ng mga makata para sa bayan
na patuloy na malikhaing
maglalarawan
ng ating mga hangarin.
Di ka man nagsulatpara sa mga bata
nag-iwan ka ng inspirayon,
at heto ako ngayon,
parang bata uli, gusto kong tumula.

* Alexander Martin Remollino worked for a while with IBON Foundation. He was assigned to write journals for social studies for grade school and high school students - Sibika, Hekasi, Philippine Currents, Asian Currents, World Currents, Ekonomiks. He did not pass the evaluation. Alex did not have the pedagogy and writing style for children - he was an angry young man. "Alex, you have to tone down for the kids," his editor would admonish him. "Ma'am gusto kong tumula," he would say. Alex thus left IBON after six months - a mutual decision that up to this day IBON does not regret. Alex's writing had developed so rapidly that only two years after he left IBON, when the institution launched the book "At Home in the World with Jose Ma. Sison" by Ninotchka Rosca, Alex was one of the reputable writers who gave their critical reviews.

Two Aquinos (Shake off that euphoria!)

2010-09-23T21:12:00.003+08:00

I'm sure many of us woke up on the first day of July this year, feeling relieved, like finally we were breathing fresh air after a long while, that at last, the Arroyo presidency is over.

I was imagining yesterday that if I had a kid, or if we had pupils, who got into high school in 2001, they are of working age already (I wouldn't say they are working already because there are no jobs to be found) by this time that Arroyo has finally stepped down. (That is a long time to build a culture.)

I remember myself entering elementary school in 1973, and was a fresh college graduate, young and unemployed, when I got to know another president.

Then I started thinking of parallelisms between the situation I faced as a youth then and the situation that the youth find themselves in today. Parehong Aquino ang una naming nakilalang ibang presidente. Both Aquinos are taking over long-running, corrupt, economically and politically repressive regimes. And simply because the name is attached to an image, both become icons of democracy and combined popular support and spontaneous appeal, multi-colored traditional politicians and civil society groups, with emphasis on the latter, openly supported by big business elites and endorsed by the US, with the US penchant for icons and plain semblances of democracy.

When Cory Aquino took over, the Philippines was one of the most heavily indebted countries in the world and was under the most stringent structural adjustment programs dictated by its creditors, the IMF and the World Bank. I graduated from UP and landed a job as a clerk in the warehouse of an air-conditioning company, which used to be under the government-owned corporation, Asia Industries, and was privatized by Cory Aquino a year later. Unemployment was so high that I never got the career that my mother had hoped for me. The country was in abject poverty, so well-known that I remember when tourists came to the country, part of their itinerary would be to visit Payatas to see to believe that indeed there was that extreme level of poverty. Like her son, Cory Aquino took over at a time that the crisis-ridden world economy was having its worst which manifested in a global debt crisis.

The youth of today face the same predicament, although at a worse, unprecedented and more advanced level: deep economic crisis, highest unemployment rate in history, widening and deepening poverty, and a global economic crisis that is worse than the 1930s Great Depression.

The Cory Aquino administration turned out be not as progressive as many had hoped. Its centerpiece program, the CARP, is a failure and drags on to this day. Its principle of “honor all debts” has been entrenched as a law that automatically appropriates budget for debt servicing whatever happens to the economy. Cory Aquino trail-blazed the country's full trade and investment liberalization by removing tariffs on more than 3,000 imported items and passing the Foreign Investment Act of 1991, which opened up key economic sectors to foreign investments. She started the privatization program by selling the government corporations that were more crucial in the country's industrialization. She devolved the government (Local Government Code) in the principle of deregulation. Cory Aquino introduced the regressive VAT to the Philippine taxation system and broke down the wage between basic and COLA and called it rationalization and killed the concept of 'living wage'.

Cory Aquino had spent just a year in office when the Mendiola Massacre of peasants happened in 1987. Noynoy Aquino had just three days when the violent dispersal of peasants and advocates happened in Mendiola on July 3. I remember the activist Lean Alejandro also being assassinated in 1987. President Noynoy Aquino has barely spent a month in office and three activists have already been killed in the last 15 days – one Bayan Muna representative, a 78-year-old peasant leader, and a young teacher.

Will things be a repeat of history. No, that is a wrong concept. History does not repeat itself, because if history does repeat itself then the country's economic and political crisis would not be in this more advanced stage. Then why are we having another Aquino? There are just things that endure and continue to re-assert themselves, like the recurring crises of global capitalism, foreign plunder, inequitable economy, and of course, ruling social classes.

The people's euphoria at this point, especially of the youth who just voted for the first time, is understandable. We are just getting over a regime that brazenly represented foreign and elite interests as well as its own preservation agenda. The euphoria, however, is not coming from the realization that democracy is working in the country because that is not so. The euphoria is simply coming from the smooth transition of power that happened, though just from one elite faction to another.

Go home! Shake off that false euphoria, that is the challenge to all of us this afternoon. Refuse to be just entertained, especially by the entertainment industry. Go beyond icons and symbols, the country's problems are real and far more fundamental than how they are being trivialized by icon-makers. Always seek and talk about the truth, and that has always been the running theme of the IBON Birdtalk.

(Closing remarks delivered during the Midyear 2010 IBON Birdtalk with high schools students and teachers as audience. The IBON Birdtalk is a biannual briefing forum on the economic and political situation of the country.)

Gloria's Gone

2010-09-23T21:04:00.003+08:00

The Arroyo presidency is over at last, and if only for that, the Filipino people should be relieved and hopeful on the promised changes of the newly elected Aquino presidency. But one of the legacies that President Arroyo leaves behind is an economy in shambles, which she fails to conceal for the last time in her burnished accomplishment reports and farewell speech. The Philippine economy is at an advanced stage of its long-standing crisis, and it requires comprehensive, radical solutions.

This will be the most severe test to the leadership of President Benigno “Noynoy” Aquino III and to the simplicity of his approach to poverty. “Kung walang corrupt, walang mahirap” was his campaign slogan, which rode on anti-Arroyo sentiments and may have launched the unaccomplished senator son of 'democracy icons' to the presidency. But as a tool of analysis on the roots of poverty and as framework therefore to achieve real changes in the lives of the Filipinos, it is painfully inadequate.

The guiding principle of the new Aquino administration is ‘good governance’, in contrast with its predecessor that has long erased public accountability and service from its language. But overly focusing on ‘good governance’ has the tendency to shift the blame for the country’s economic problems to corruption alone and away from the globalization policies that have deepened the Philippine crisis and benefited only a narrow elite. It eventually allows the Aquino administration to continue and even intensify the implementation of these undemocratic policies. It would also be self-defeating at the minimum if, after all, President Aquino fails to prosecute high officials accused of large-scale corruption, including Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo.

The people’s euphoria at this point is understandable. The country is reeling from a decade of worsening crisis and poverty and getting over a regime that brazenly represented foreign and elite interests as well its own preservation agenda. The euphoria, however, is not based on the idea that democracy is working, since the country has a long way to go in that regard. It is simply coming from the smooth transition of power that has happened, even if only from one elite faction to another. The challenge therefore for the new presidency is to sustain this euphoria through concrete actions on more profound issues of the people.

List down all problems, President Aquino proposed even before his inauguration as the 15^th President. The country’s problems are far more fundamental than how they were trivialized during the elections. One of the defining marks of a genuine leader for change is to recognize this fundamentality and commit to resolve it, and President Aquino is most expected to do this.

Wala na si Ka Bel

2008-05-21T10:09:00.002+08:00

Pumanaw na si Rep. Crispin "Ka Bel" Beltran, lider-manggagawa, kongresista, ama, asawa, kasama.

Mahirap sumahin ang buhay at pakikibaka ni Ka Bel, haligi ng militante at palabang kilusang manggagawa. Estudyante pa ako, si Ka Bel na ang simbolo ng pagkakaisa at tindig ng mga manggagawa. Kaya noong mag-thesis ako, walang dalawang-isip, labor ang paksa.

Hindi ko makakalimutan si Ka Bel. Magiliw sya, palabiro, malambing, magaan kausap. Walang ere, walang iniinda, tunay na lider ng masa.

Kapag kinamayan ka nya, tuloy akbay, ganun nya minahal ang mga manggagawa at ganundin nya kinalinga ang mga kasama.

"Ayan ha, ito ang una kong public appearance pagkalaya ko!" Sabi nya noong pinaunlakan nya ang porum ng aming upisina tungkol sa tubig, ilang minuto lang pagkalipas syang "palayain" ng gubyernong Arroyo. Si Ka Bel talaga, sya na nga ang nagbigay karangalan sa aming porum sa kabila ng kanyang hapit na kalagayan, pakiramdam pa rin nya ay magtatampo kami kung hindi sya dadating.

Mahigit 30 dekadang tinugis, inapi, pinatahimik, kinulong, hinaras si Ka Bel ng reaksyunaryong estado. Pwede na sana syang namatay sa torture, assassination, physical injuries, sa kulungan, o sa sakit dulot ng karahasan ng estado.

"Bakit daw?!" galit kong tanong

"Nalaglag sa bubong." Sagot ng kausap ko.

Noong mabalitaan ko kung paano pumanaw si Ka Bel, kahit isang sandali ay hindi nabawasan ang paghanga at pagpuri ko sa kanya bilang bayani ng sambayanang Pilipino. Ang paraan ng kanyang pagpanaw ay simbolo ng kanyang komitment sa buhay at pakikibaka ng anakpawis.

Paalam, Ka Bel. Tuloy ang pakikibaka!

Survivor Caramoan, Epilogue

2008-05-13T22:26:00.002+08:00

The other day, news featured Caramoan, now dubbed as the next Boracay. No less than the lucky bitch (President Arroyo herself) was in Gota beach, wearing her tacky summer dress, meeting the Survivor cast and crew, and accompanied by the tourism secretary Ace Durano who was wearing shorts a la Indiana Jones.

Mayor Cordial was also interviewed on TV. This time, unlike during our visit when he was broken for being bypassed, he seemed happy to note that development was coming his way. I wonder how he was finally convinced by the President, but he cannot ignore the fact that fishermen in Caramoan have been complaining that they can no longer fish in the bays because of the closure of Gota beach and neighboring islands.

President Arroyo has gone on a natural resources/tourism mega-sale, and Caramoan is her current flavor. Will the people of Caramoan survive the onslaught? If she will not stop her whoring, she might be the one not surviving her illegitimate term.

Survivor Caramoan, Part 2

2008-05-13T10:16:00.008+08:00

We pitched our tents right on top of the hill, the island’s highest point, which affords a great view of the sea, neighboring islands, the house, our beach, and partly Catanduanes island.

We cooked dinner, changed from wet to warm clothes, took photos of the rising full moon, mixed gin and tonic, and enjoyed conversations with the councilor, a friend he picked up during our island hopping, and the mother of the only household in our island who cooked us fish and sweet potatoes. We were lamenting how development could spoil Caramoan while our hosts on the contrary were excited about the prospect. Generally we were having fun … until it rained, and rained so hard, and rained till dawn.

We slept (or held on to the concept of sleep) with puddles inside our tents. We had to synchronize how to “toss and turn” to survive the night. Upon sunrise (or the illusion of it), we ‘woke up’ (or simply decided to get up and out of our tents) and started to salvage rain-soaked food. While preparing breakfast, Mango, Mai and I were formulating the lessons we’ve learned.

The view from our campsite, with the reluctant sunrise

Lesson No. 1. It was a mistake to share campsite with a carabao. We had puddles of mud inside our tents.

Lesson No. 2. Never trust the councilor when he says it won’t rain while he’s having fun. He walked on the sand bar going home, by the way.

Lesson No. 3. Always trust the mayor when he offers his place, he knows the weather.

Lesson No. 4. A boy scout can really read a map. Mango’s dad, a scout master, warned us that travel and island hopping would take much of our time, so better settle in the first island we find.

Lesson No. 5. Mother knows best when she tells you to bring sugar. We were bringing 3 in 1 coffee, so we didn’t listen to Mango’s mom. The sugar could have come in handy for the sweet potatoes.

Anyway, photo-ops will do the trick! Show and tell our friends that we enjoyed….

We broke camp and sailed at 8 a.m. to catch the last boat going back to Sabang at 11 a.m. Our island friends were sad to see us off and wished that we would go back to Caramoan soon and often. On one hand, we were secretly sad to see their excitement over the prospect of developing Caramoan as the next Boracay.

It’s a pity that we ended up the ones not remembering the names of the islands and beaches we went to. But since Mango and Mai were able to do their ‘morning ritual’ after breakfast (first time in the outdoors for Mai, no big deal for Mango), we are calling our island for now and before so-called development takes over, the “Prut-Prut Island”.

View of Prut-Prut Island from our boat

Survivor Caramoan, Part 1

2008-05-06T10:28:00.012+08:00

We were thinking of having vacations in unexplored getaways with names our friends would not even be able to pronounce. Mango extended this invitation to trailblaze the “unexplored” Caramoan Peninsula, a group of islands at the tip of Camarines Sur, Bicol region, and to host the expedition in Albay (her hometown) with a side trip (take note, just a side trip) to the world-famous Donsol in Sorsogon, the migratory route of whalesharks locally known as butanding.

The prospect of Caramoan alone made Sam, Ems and Mai brag to their friends who turned green with envy. Caramoan, it turns out, is not that unfamiliar – everyone has already heard of the place, no one is brave enough just yet to wander far from the comforts of Boracay or Galera.

We really didn’t have plans to be uncomfortable ourselves. To save exploration time, we decided to experience Caramoan exactly the way it was described in a blog we tumbled upon. Plagiarize – guess that’s the classic tourism strategy – read the brochures, read the write-ups, relive the blogs, copy the postcards…

But it was a mistake to plagiarize. First of all, we did not end up in the more famous Gota beach. Caramoan has several beaches, islands and islets, and you can just choose your own island like create your own fantasy, pitch tent, camp, swim and explore your island. Since we followed the blog, we looked for Gota beach, but the place was closed for the shooting of the international reality show, Survivor.

What to do next? Island politics dictates that you go straight to the mayor. We raised issues like public land being closed for private use, lack of community consultation, development aggression, blah, blah, blah. But the mayor, bypassed by the governor, just sighed, short of saying “I’m the victim here.”

Anyway, the mayor instructed his councilor to lend us his boat and guide us to the mayor’s island. That started our great misadventures and shift to survival mode.

We were sailing for about an hour when we decided to have lunch in the councilor’s island.

Then we dropped our things in the mayor’s island and sailed again, touring the peninsula and searching for our perfect island.

Finally we decided to take a dip in an island with only one house, a carabao atop a hill, and a wide sand bar that connects the island to another island and that you can walk on during low tide.

We decided to stay. Mango and I had to go back to the mayor’s island to get our things while the rest explored the hill where we would pitch our tents.

That's me on the boat, waiting for Mango. Postcard-perfect? Well, that was the calm before the storm!

Byaheng Balikan

2008-04-25T21:05:00.005+08:00

Nagparoo't parito ako sa Legaspi City noong Huwebes, eroplano papunta sa umaga, bus pauwi sa gabi. Maliit na laptop backpack lang ang dala ko.

Pag-check-in ko sa Cebu Pacific noong papunta, napaisip ako sa standard na tanong ng ground stewardess: May bagahe kayo ma'am?

Na-inspire tuloy akong sumagot sa recent post ng isang kaibigan tungkol sa pag-byahe nang magaan.

Naisip ko lang, wala akong bagahe, hindi lang ako nakakalimot. Di katulad ng kaibigan ko na short-term ang memory, ako sa maniwala kayo sa hinde, naaalala ko pa ang first birthday ko. Pinakbet ang handa.

Flex Revlon ang shampoo ko nung una akong magkagusto sa babae. Binigyan nya ako ng lyrics ng A Woman in Love sa H.E. class namin, sinulat-kamay nya sa yellow pad, tapos lahat ng 'man' sa lyrics pinalitan nya ng 'woman'. Naghiwalay kami nung 4th year kasi, oh well, pinalitan nya ako ng 'man'. Nagpalit ako ng shampoo.

Summer noong magka-boyfriend ako. Tuwing hapon naglalaro kami nung word game na Boggle, na prinonounce nya ng bogli. Hindi na ako nakipag-talo kasi lagi ko din naman syang talo sa game. Dumating ang pasukan na-realize ko na marami pala kaming di mapag-uusapan kasi bukod sa magka-iba kami ng pronunciation, magka-iba rin kami ng bokabularyo.

Taumbayan ang una kong naging papel sa teatro noong college sa Kahapon, Ngayon at Bukas ni Aurelio Tolentino. Ako sana talaga si Inang Bayan, pero hindi ko kinaya ang magtatakbo mula sa audience papuntang stage at magsisigaw ng "Mga walang-hiya! Mga walang utang na loob! Kayo'y nagsasayahan habang nagluluksa ang sambayanan!" Mahiyain pala talaga ako, sabi ng direktor. Ewan, basta alam ko may krisis ako noon.

Inis na inis tuloy ang bespren kong bading sa akin. Kasi bilang taumbayan ang sinuot kong costume ay mahabang saya na ang tela ay kapareho ng tela ng uniform ng mga babae nila sa Quezon City Science High School. Malay ko bang pinangarap nyang isuot yun!

Speaking of saya, naka-bestida ako nung malaman ko ang pakiramdam ng kinakabugan kapag kinakaliwa. Naghintay talaga ako dun sa kanto para mahuli ko sila. Ayun, magkasama nga silang bumaba ng jeep. Hindi sila bagay, hindi rin bagay sa akin ang bestida. Umabot pa naman ng 8 taon ang relasyon na yun, 4 na beses din ako kinaliwa. Noong huli, sya naman ang kinabugan.

Telepono ang unang appliance ko noong nakipag-bahay-bayahan ako. Nakasalampak pa nga ito sa sahig kasi walang ibang gamit na mapagpapatungan sa kwarto. Pagkalipas ng 13 taon, noong sumikip na rin ang apartment, nagkahiwalay kami kasi nawalan na kami ng totoong komunikasyon.

Nagpapalipad ako ng saranggola sa Subic noong magsimula akong mabagot sa relasyon ko ng 13 taon. Tumigil kami sa Shell station noong pauwi para kumain ng ice cream. Naalala ko tuwang-tuwa ang mga kasama namin sa iba-ibang flavors na mapagpipilian samantalang double dutch, cookies and cream, rocky road, at very rocky road lang naman ang nasa freezer. Ako, ewan ko ba, ampalaya yata ang napili ko.

Sa huli, naisip ko, maliban sa sinumpa ako ng matinding memorya, masaya ako sa araw-araw. Wala akong pagsisisi, wala akong ibang dala-dala. Sa katunayan, tuwing lumilipat ako ng tirahan, katulad ng kaibigan ko, nagkakasya rin ako sa isang maleta.

May wi-fi sa Lumang Bahay

2008-04-12T23:25:00.001+08:00

Mantakin mo, ang lumang bahay ni Aning – circa 60s ito, 90% kahoy, two storeys, nasa labas ang hagdan kung aakyat ka sa taas kung saan kami nakatira at may sariling buhay ang silong, capiz ang bintana at narra ang muebles – ay naka-wi-fi na!

Kaya minsan pag-uwi ko doon, hinilera namin ang mga laptops sa mesang kainan, at ayun, mega-internet ang mga bakla kahit wala naman deadlines, at may gana pang mag-chat sa isa’t isa!

Proyekto ito ni Mira (Room No. 2) at Gail (Room No. 5), parehong computer programmers na walang panahon sa upisina para sa mga personal nilang interes sa net kaya sa bahay nila ito ginagawa. Sinuportahan naman namin sa Room No. 4 ang proyekto, kasi kulang naman ang oras namin sa net para sa trabaho, bukod pa sa hindi palaging may koneskyon si Mango.

Ang saya, salamat sa globalisasyon.

Kaya lang noong “soft launch” ng aming proyekto, na-miss ko bigla si Boots – ang kaibigan kong nasa Oxford. Sya nagturo sa akin mag-chat, at noon, araw-araw nya akong kinukulit sa text na mag-online na at mag-ch-chat na daw kami. Naiinis ako noon kasi hindi naman kami pareho ng oras di ba, at hindi rin kami pareho ng akses sa net. Pero ngayon na halos 24 oras na ako naka-konek, kapag tulog na lang hindi, hindi na rin kami nag-uusap, hindi na sya kumukonek at all, at hindi na rin nag-te-text.

Magkasing-mahal daw kasi ang text at tawag. Bawal daw sa upisina nila ang mag-download ng chat programs dahil nakakabawas ito ng efficiency sa trabaho. At mahal naman ang kuneksyon sa bahay-bahay, at syempre mahal ang laptop sa Europa.

Salamat sa globalisasyon? Na maski nililipad ang bubong ni Aning, tumutulo ang kubeta sa silong at nagwawala ang pamilya sa baba ay naka-wifi sya?

Demokratisasyon daw ng teknolohiya ang globalisasyon, na lahat ay magkakaroon ng akses sa teknolohiya para sa pag-unlad. Pero pakiramdam ko depende kung ano ang gustong itambak sa Third World (at sa mahal na halaga sa totoo lang) habang nakapokus ang First World sa esensya ng pag-unlad.

Huling balita ko kay Boots, nagpapa-renovate sya ng bahay.

Hating-Gabi kay Aning

2008-04-08T16:16:00.007+08:00

Kung ipagpapabukas ko
ang ating pag-ibig
Para ko na ring isinantabi
ang lahat ng ating pinagdaanan
at kahihinatnan pa
ng ating himagsikan
Para ko na ring binale-wala
ang mga dumaang kontradiksyon
at narating na resolusyon
sa pagitan nating dalawa
Tinalikuran
ang aking mga pangako
na unti-unting pinapatupad
Kinalimutan
ang tapat at paulit-ulit kong
panambitan
Hinayaan
Na sa araw-araw kitang minamahal
ay may maiwan pang pagdududa
Para ko na ring sinabi
na ang ating masalimuot na pagsisimula
na matagal mong iniyakan
ay nananatiling walang batayan.
Na lahat ng ating paghihintay
pakikipagtunggali at paghahanda
sa pagdating ng tagumpay
ay madaling ipagpaumaga.

Mahal ko, huwag mo akong tanungin
Kung ako nga ba ay handa na
na makilala ng lahat
at humarap sa dambana
ng pag-ibig at pakikibaka
Para mo na rin akong tinanong
kung naniniwala nga ba ako
sa atin at sa pagbabago
Para mo na ring pinagdudahan
Ang palagi kong pagtatapat
At kung ako nga ba
ay karapat-dapat
sa proseso ng kasal.
Mahal ko, huwag mong hanapin
Ang kasiguraduhan sa akin
Huwag mo nang itanong…
dahil katulad ng rebolusyon
ang pag-ibig ko ay araw-araw
Isusulong.

The Original Post

2008-03-24T15:11:00.007+08:00

In Aning’s place, five women, in separate rooms and living separate lives, used to converge at one post that stands in the middle of this old house.

Here, they literally posted poems, essays, new year’s resolutions, photos, news clippings, postcards, etc. until blogs, multiply or friendster took over and until updates on their lives became too complicated to be posted just like one of the bills.

Room No. 1 has given birth to a beautiful baby boy whose father is still unkown but who cares. Room No. 2 has just split up with her liar of a boyfriend who occupied Room No. 3 when former occupant, a timid call center agent, left unnoticed. Room No. 4 has fallen in love with another woman who now co-occupies the room. And Room No. 5, which has seen turnovers - from an accountant in love with a gay man to an indie actress in love with a priest - is now being occupied by shoes and bags, and the owner who can barely enter the room.

It's time to update the post.

Ms. World

2008-03-24T12:37:00.003+08:00

I learned English like how I learned how to cook – out of sheer enjoyment of it and out of necessity – both reasons however would soon negate each other. I have always had fascination with languages – the elegance of French, precision of German and simplicity of Mandarin, the different kinds of sounds, to be able to create them, and be understood. But I have also been forced, like the rest of the Filipino people, to learn English to survive in the globalized economy. During my time, all subject areas including Philippine history had to be taught and learned in English, Grade 2 students would be fined 25 centavos if heard speaking in the vernacular, and students were considered dumb if they had their grammar wrong.

Things have changed – or so I thought. History is taught in Filipino now, but for a shorter time and not in all regions of the country. Students are no longer fined when speaking Filipino although continue to be punished and beaten for their misconduct. And still, finally, despite the recent scientific discovery of the seven domains of intelligence (and linguistics is just one domain), Filipinos still deride and demean wrong grammar and even wrong pronunciation for an archipelago with numerous ethno-linguistic tribes, and judge the speaker altogether as dumb.

Things have not really changed. There have been revisions in the curriculum but only in so far as there have been generations of nationalist and progressive thinkers (students and teachers alike) who would time and again push for some sanity in the Philippine educational system. Things have turned for the worse in fact – no less than the Philippine President is pushing through an executive order to make English the medium of instruction and shape education to serve the outsourcing needs of foreign corporations. Economic development in this country, according to the medium-term development plan, shall be propelled by call centers and tourism.

Watching 2008 Bb. Pilipinas-World winner Janina San Miguel answer in the Q&A portion of the pageant and after hearing all the half-time analyses and derisive comments on her bloopers, I can only lament how far we have been thrown back by this forced English. It is not only that we no longer enjoy learning new skills and exotic things, we have actually stopped learning. No, it is not Janina’s English that is crooked, it is the Philippine educational system that has produced robots for the world economy. She is not the nation’s embarrassment – it is the Philippine government that has disgraced all of us for all its wrong priorities. In the end, the ‘irregularity’ made by the pageant’s panel of judges in letting Janina win is nothing compared to President Arroyo’s cling to power while her legitimacy as President remains in question.

Oh, well, didn’t Janina say, “Oh, I’m so sorry!” in the Q&A? Guess that is the winning line.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKwmseoKFCo

Eureka

2008-03-04T11:34:00.005+08:00

Si Archimedes, isang scientist noong 300 B.C., nakadiskubre sa buoyancy sa pagkuha ng density ay mas makikilala sa kanyang pagtatakbo (balita ko hubo’t hubad pa at nagkakandirit pa siguro) habang sumisigaw ng “Eureka! Eureka!” Well, at least, ganyan sya kinuwento ng teacher ko nung first year high school ako.

Ako, baliktad. Tumatakbo muna bago ako makadiskubre ng mga bagay-bagay, na hindi naman of Eureka magnitude, ay sagot pa rin sa mga nakabara.

“Running can solve problems,” sabi ng mga runners. Totoo pala yun. Ilan lang sa mga eureka ko habang tumatakbo noong sabado sa academic oval.

1. Kaya pala malakas ang loob ni Arroyo na mag-Super-Regions ay awash with Chinese ODA ang gubyerno. Ang cheap kasi pala talaga ng pautang ng mga Intsik, wala pang social standards.

2. Kaya pala kahit walang tubig na lumalabas sa gripo ay sumasabak pa rin ang Maynilad sa negosyong ito kasi sa pagbubungkal pa lang ng mga kalsada kumikita na sya. “We do not only lay pipes, we build lives." Totoo pala yun. Hindi ba? Wala naman syang binanggit about providing water.

3. Hanggat may Balikatan ang US, hindi mapapatalsik si Arroyo sa EDSA. Bumabaha pa ng pera sa AFP.

4. Parang bampira rin ang CBCP - hayaan mo lang silang i-expose ang sarili nila sa liwanag, malulusaw din.

5. Si Bunye, mapatalsik si Arroyo o hindi, may career. Gusto ko syang kuning finance officer ng opisina namin, para kapag walang funds at hindi susweldo (na madalas mangyari), kaya nya itong ipaliwanag na para bang may salary increase na may bonus pa.

Sumunod na araw, linggo, may takbo na sponsored ng Bayan, "Exercise your Rights" - di ako nakasama, bukod sa nagkatrangkaso ako, e... iba na 'yun!

Pahabol sa VD

2008-02-21T11:23:00.004+08:00

Akala ko,
kailangan ng isang epikong
siksik sa mga dula,
at makukulay na kabanata
twists and turns
cast of million
kuhang panorama
mga daring stunts
at operatic scores
sa mga whirlwind affairs
at knight-in-shining armor
na kukuha sa akin
mula sa wicked sorcerer.
Akala ko lang...
para masabing masaya.

Akala ko,
kailangang sakay ako ng kabayo
riding out in the sunset...
o sumasayaw sa ulan
kahit hindi slow-mo...
o nagtitirik ng bandila
sa tuktok ng burol
at isinisigaw ang saloobin
para lang masabing
kuha ko ang happy ending.

Mali ako.
Ang totoo,
sa maliliit na kwento ako
umapaw sa saya.
Ang bigla mo na lang
akong yayaing mag-bike
kahit madaling araw at madilim pa
at dalhin sa U.P.
at doon, kung saan sabi mong
dati kayong naghihintay
ng babagsak na bulalakaw,
ay kumain tayo ng breakfast
take-out mula sa Rodick's
pinahiga ang mga bisikleta
at sumalampak sa damuhan
habang binubugaw si Muning.

At mula sa ating meteor garden
ay umuwi tayo sa Sta. Ana,
at sa pagod nakatulog
gumising kang may topak,
nag-trip ka ng pritong Maling
at ako naman ay bumili kay Akik
ng isang bandehadong pancit.

Ang turuan mo akong
mag-ukay-ukay sa hilltop sa Baguio
at habulin ang pagbagsak ng presyo,
bumili ng mga damit
na walang subok-subok
at pag-uwi sa bahay
ay ikaw din naman lahat ang magsusuot
kasi walang magkasya sa akin.

Ang gusto ko lang naman
sabihin, maligayang maligaya ako
sa ating maliliit na eksena
nagtatampisaw akong sobra
may sayaw at himig sa akin
wagayway ng iba't ibang kulay
sakay sa ulap sa saliw ng hangin
at marami pang kakaibang damdamin
At gusto ko ring sabihin
sana wala itong ending.

Strawberry Fields Forever

2008-02-11T17:54:00.006+08:00

Let me take you down
cos I'm going to strawberry fields
nothing is real
and nothing to get hung about
strawberry fields forever.

Living is easy with eyes closed
misunderstanding all you see
it's getting hard to be someone
but it all works out
it doesn't matter much to me.

No one I think is in my tree
I mean it must be high or low
that is you can't you know tune in but it's all right
that is I think it's not too bad.

Always, no sometimes, think it's me
but you know I know when it's a dream
I think I know I mean a "Yes" but it's all wrong
that is I think I disagree.

(Lennon-McCartney)

Some songs are utterly senseless, like this one. (Don't get me wrong, I'm a Beatle fan.) But sometimes it's a thin line between inanity and profundity, I guess. It all depends on the experience or the moment when the song comes to mind. I came to La Trinidad Valley and left singing this song. Believe it or not, it was my first time in the country's famed strawberry fields!

Bike for Hope

2008-02-05T15:45:00.002+08:00

We joined the 7th Bike for Hope, held this time in the Bicol region. Bike for Hope is an advocacy ride for health and the environment that is led (or rather, left behind) by Senator Pia Cayetano. (No joke, the Senator can pedal really fast.)

I joined the 6th Bike for Hope last year from Sta. Rosa to Sta. Cruz, Laguna. My friends and I were the last to arrive. I crashed on my way home and had bursitis in my left knee, which took my doctor three months to cure. It was not exactly a wonderful experience, this so-called Bike for Hope, but what the heck . Who can resist Mount Mayon?

Besides, I offered Mango this ride as peace offering for my shortcomings, that we get to bike together in her hometown.

So we packed the bikes and took the executive coach to Legazpi City. We arrived on Friday, got to rest before the main event, although at first we couldn't re-assemble the bikes in their original efficiency.

The ride was on Saturday - it was a gruelling 100-kilometer tour of winding and undulating road from Naga City to Legazpi City. We were coming from Camalig, Albay - 82 kilometers away from the starting line and around 18 kilometers away from the finish line - approximately a two-hour-drive to Naga City. We left Camalig at 4:00 am.

There were only a handful of participants when we arrived in Naga City, mostly hardcore cyclists, and we were the first women to register. Jitters, jitters, jitters! Later, another woman besides us, a foreigner, signed up, then two others - one who looked like a man and another who did not promise to finish. Then the other big boost to my confidence was when our friend, Mike Ac-Ac, Senator Pia's media officer, announced that the good Senator was not really feeling well, and might rest and stop often along the way. Yahoo! I was feeling lucky!

But then again, the real confidence booster was when Senator Pia, before take-off, shook my hand and posed with Mango and me for the media.

So there we were, at 20 kph, but only for the first three kilometers, then slowing down to 18, 15, 12, 10...until the atmosphere turned from energetic to solemn to solitary and until the only guys left in our pack were two old men in their 60s and five foreigners (the foreign sister among them) who simply wanted to enjoy the view.

Then our pack went on conversation pace. "We were just doing ulay-ulay (Bicol of small talk) about ourselves, then madam passed away," the old man was saying in comic English, referring to his little chat with our English-speaking participant.

The ride was not easy, I have to admit for the nth time. My thighs cramped rock-hard, my butt hurt, my shoulders stiffened, my chest ached. The sun was reluctant to come out, which would have been a welcome thing for a long ride, but the draft was terrible (especially as we passed by rice fields) and it would rain every now and then. The old men dropped out in the town of Pulangi. In Ligao City, Mango and I decided to go straight home when we reached Camalig. Upon reaching Guinobatan, the town before Camalig, our foreign sister was trying to convince us to take the jeepney to Legazpi City. We declined since we were dropping out in the next town anyway.

Me and Mayon. Well, yeah, you can't make me out, but you can't make out Mayon either. The volcano was elusive the whole time.

Our self-defined finish line. Upon reaching almost 80 kilometers and five hours later, admittedly our glycogen stores had been fully depleted.

We never really got to see Senator Pia again after the take-off. She didn't stop to rest after all. We heard later from Mike that the adrenalin from the ride made her well. (It was diarrhea by the way.)

We also heard from Mike that they had a good program in Legazpi City. The local organizations got the chance to talk about the devastation of Rapu-Rapu Island because of mining acitivities by Lafayette Corporation and about the lack of hospitals in the region.

We will always be taunted by our families and friends for not finishing the century, but it was fulfilling to know that the real issues were discussed.

15 Years

2008-01-31T16:32:00.001+08:00

15 taon na ako sa insti. Nalampasan ko na ang dalawang episodes ng tinatawag na 7-year itch at eto pa rin ako. Nagsisimula uling mangati, pero sabi nga ng mga kasama ko, "Anong seven-seven-year itch, pamburgis lang yon!"

Naikot ko na yata lahat ng departments. Mula research, seminars, publications, maski administration at logistics. Kulang na lang maging security rin ako ng "under siege" naming opisina, though may panahon ngang ako ang taga-susi sa gabi.

Pati mga special committees katulad ng "building committee" (noong nagpatayo kami ng building), "rushcom" (noong nagka-krisis kami sa delivery), o kaya, ang generic na "staff committee" (isang machinery para sa mga kaso ng dispalko, sexual harassment at iba pang kasong pandisiplina) ay nasalihan ko na. (Nasubukan ko na ring ako mismo ang may kaso at na-staff committee!) Syempre part din ako ng mga komiteng binubuo para sa mga special occasions tulad ng christmas party at outing. (At nasubukan ko na ring maging kandidata sa Ms. Pagudpud 2000 nung mag-outing kami sa Ilocos, natalo nga lang at hanggang ngayon ay "under protest" ito, at syempre naging "Queen of the Night" noong 60s ang theme ng aming christmas party.)

Nahawakan ko na rin lahat ng pusisyon - writer, editor, director. Nakatrabaho ko na lahat ng klase ng kasama - may kapansanan (marami nito) at wala (may isa o dalawa); ambisyosa (may mangilan-ngilan) at matatakutin; kwela at uptight (may isa o dalawa at mas nakakatawa sila kesa sa mga kwela); OC (obsessive compulsive - marami rin nito) at burara (finance officer ito ha!). Marami kaming bading at marami pang napa-out sa proseso, ang iba naimpluwensyahan na lang namin.

Naisulat ko na yata lahat ng usapin - economics, politics, culture - mula sa pagsasara ng mga pabrika at pagpapalit ng presidente hanggang sa pagdami ng shopping malls at pag-kain ng junk food. Pati manual of operations ng opisina namin naisulat ko na rin.

Humarap na ako sa lahat ng klase ng audience. Syempre ang staple - manggagawa at magsasaka - pero andyan din ang mga teachers, estudyante, negosyante, propesyunal, kapari-an, ka-sister-an, congressmen. Pati sa Rotary Club nakapagsalita na rin ako. Itim, puti, latino, hapon, tsino, asyano, ilokano, bisaya, bicolano, moro.

Nakuha ko na rin lahat ng sakit na may kinalaman sa stress - balakubak, galis, ngiping umiikot pero hindi naman sira, pati yung TB ko sabi ng duktor ay stress-related. Kung paano na-stress ang mga bacteria di ko alam pero somehow, naniniwala ako.

Nagawa ko na rin lahat para aliwin pa sarili ko. Andyang mag-mountaineering ako. Lumangoy, mag-bisikleta, tumakbo - hanggang magbalak na nga akong sumali ng triathlon na hindi naman matuloy-tuloy dahil "busy" nga ako di ba? (Sasali na talaga ako this year, tutal wala na akong ka-age category.). Nagkulay na din ako ng mga coloring books, nag-subok magcross-stitch pero sige marathon na lang. Buryong na ako.

Matagal-tagal na talaga ako sa insti. Dito na ako nakapag-asawa at nawalan. Dito ko na natutunan lahat ng mas mahahalagang bagay kesa sa mga tinuro sa eskwela, katulad ng rebolusyon, naks, pero ayoko na talaga. Gusto ko nang magpalipat.

Kaya nga nung isang araw, nagpaalam na ako. Gusto ko sana sa hanay ng mga magsasaka, gusto ko literally sa field, makawala sa opisina, humarap sa tao at hindi puros computer, matuto ng mga totoong kwento sa pakikinig at hindi lang sa kababasa.

Maraming kundisyon, maraming kailangang tapusin, at dapat makapag-train ng kapalit, bago daw ako makakaalis. Ganun, parang katulong. Pero ang irony sa lahat, marami raw akong dapat i-unlearn kasi ang mga natutunan ko sa insti, laluna na yung style of work, ay hindi naman daw bagay sa peasants!

Bike Packing

2008-01-31T13:27:00.000+08:00

We packed our bikes for a century ride this weekend in Bicol. Packing alone was already a major activity, perhaps even tougher than the 100-kilometer tour.

But we took on the challenge. Using 'locally sourced materials' such as carton boxes from the bodega, bubble plastic from the office, plastic straw from the neighborhood grocery store, and wait, plastic tape from 711, and some instructions through text messaging from biker-friends, we produced works of art.

My Chemical Romance

2008-01-28T10:57:00.000+08:00

The night's chemistry was perfect. Six women - an interesting mix in terms of types of music and deadlines - decided to "watch" the concert at the Fort (we didn't have tickets and planned to simply listen at the roadside); cook and pack pasta in pesto sauce for baon (since we were more like going on a picnic rather than to a concert); bring chips and popcorn (oh well, takot magutom); and not to drink at all (since there are no toilets out there in the open field).

(The pasta didn't make it to our 'picnic', we wolfed it down before setting out.)

We came prepared. The whole day in the office, I listened to My Chemical Romance to set the mood, Chulah wikipedia-ed the band to learn more about them while Glen watched them in YouTube.

So there we were trying to get a sense of MCR. But we had more fun watching the punks who like us could not afford decent passes than watching the video wall as MCR played one song after another. Right there and then, Chulah decided to be a punk, sobrang natuwa sa fashion, although we advised her to adopt the attitude more than anything else.

It was a fun night. The only thing that didn't mix well was MCR itself. The band is a Green Day front act and sorely lacks identity. It even sounded like Air Supply towards the end. We didn't finish the concert. Like the punks, we started marching home before the encore ended. We debriefed over bottles of Colt 45 at Edsa Central market in the crowd of call center agents.

The Lost Weekend

2006-10-25T10:24:00.000+08:00

I waited

Every day I waited
for you to come up my floor
and tell me yes
you also feel the tremor
of this unspoken sadness.
Tell me that
through our common walls
you hear the whispers
of my agonizing reason
I am a mess! Tell me
that you hear my footsteps
as my mind wanders
in the forbidden corners of this room
while I quietly hope.

I waited
and looked over my window
to see what we are both seeing
as the trees begin to sway
and leaves fall on the pavement
as my view turns overcast
tell me you will remember
and tell me yes
you also feel the rain in my heart.
That through the glass
you hear my silent screams
as the rain pours on every word
that you do recognize
how yearning has turned to patience
my thoughts to stupor
my laughter to a raging storm.
And assure me, yes
you too feel the cold
that the wind brings in our separate lives
that you shiver as much as I do
in the thought of another night.

I waited for you
to linger in my corridor
and play a song by my prison door
liberate me with a tender refrain,
or with a simple line,
say something, anything!
that is recognizably mine
and offer me a resonant chord
that I can carry in my heart
as I too meander in the vastness
of this undeclared passion.
and leave me an unfinished poem
and let me end it, into a great epic
that as you say, we will never have,
Tell me that, yes you do
hear the sonnet of unrequited love.

I guess I’ve waited long enough.

(October 2006)

Gusto kong magpaalam

2006-08-25T18:20:00.000+08:00

Gusto kong magpaalam
Kahit di pa ako dumarating
Kahit di pa kumakatok
Sa puso mong nakapinid.

Gusto kong lumayo
Kahit di pa ako lumalapit
At hindi ko pa natatanaw
Ang bubong ng iyong pag-ibig.

Tumahimik, kahit gusto kong isigaw,
Ang mga bagay na hindi ko maibulong
Dahil maraming makaririnig.
Lumakad nang marahan
Kahit ubos na ang panahon
Sa mga bagay na walang nararating.

Maibsan sana ang aking pagsisisi
Sa mga bagay na hindi naman nangyari,
Mga salitang hindi naman nasabi, mga hinagpis
At luhang minadali. Gusto kong maiyak.

Gusto kong tapusin
Ang hindi ko pa nasisimulan
Isara ang hindi ko pa nabubuksan
At gawing nakaraan ang hindi pa dumarating na kinabukasan
Nating dalawa, sa gitna ng kawalan ay panghihinayang
Kung ang sana ay nagaganap na,
Ano pa kaya ang maaari kong asahan?

(October 2005)

Transformative Education

2006-02-15T15:39:00.000+08:00

I spent the weekend in Bacolod City giving a talk on transformative education. I got back in Manila on Monday and presided over a meeting with the agenda of going over the chronology of office events of the past five years in order to draw lessons from the period. I moved on to February 14 to have another meeting that tried to get a sense of the chronology, then spent the evening up to the wee hours drinking with alcoholics who made 'valentine's day' an excuse to drink in the middle of the week.

I just had a board meeting today and really made an effort to appear respectable, responsible, credible, and really listening while I was having the worst hangover. During the lunch break, one of our board members casually asked me about my TE seminar, and gaad, I struggled for something to say.

Transformative Education or TE is a paradigm for teachers who care to change their students into citizens who would change society into a better place. The key is the teacher - the teacher also has to transform herself into a socially aware human being who has a conscience, commitment and action. My audience in Bacolod was a mix of hardline and hardened teachers who argued on one basic thing: the doability of TE. I intervened many times in the open forum but the teachers (especially the 'doable camp') started crying and getting really emotional and I drifted in my own thoughts.

I would say the word 'commitment' is really scary - scarier than the dreaded C itself. People go at lengths to explain so many things, explore answers in unknown places, overcome fears through reason, philosophize love and revolution, but never really get close to commitment. Nothing is more dreadful than saying yes to something no matter what; declaring a belief system does not come close to saying yes - and that's what makes commitment different and scary - it is devoid of rhetoric.

And probably that is the reason for the crying bout by the 'doable camp' in my Bacolod seminar. The teachers realized that by defending the doability of TE they cannot avoid the moment of truth, i.e. when they will have to actually commit themselves to transformation. Courage, ah, courage is a decision.