Leaving Home

One stormy night a few months ago, strong winds battered the gate to our house and our dog, Zeus, a beautiful Labrador, got out and never returned.

We got Zeus when he was barely three months old in 2009, a Christmas gift for our children. He’s a playful dog and loves to nibble on anything: newly potted plants, wooden furniture and footwear were among his favorites. Almost all of our furniture has nibble marks, and we’ve had to throw away a few pairs of shoes and slippers that we carelessly left outside the door.

The children adored him, when he was a puppy he slept in the kids’ room. He loved to fetch, and loved to have you run after him to play tug-o-war with whatever it was you had him fetch – an empty soda bottle, a stick, a chewed up slipper. He can be intimidating too – he wasn’t that tall nor long, but he was bulky and had a deep baritone for a bark. Those he scared just didn’t know that his barks were simply an invitation to play.

Last year, a friend offered one of their Labrador’s puppies to us, a female that we named Juno. We thought she’d be a perfect match for Zeus. In the days leading to that stormy night, we noticed several times how Zeus would try to mate with Juno. She must be going in heat soon, we thought.

And then it happened, he got out. He loved darting out of the gate whenever we opened it. He even learned how to pretend not to be interested in escaping, and silly us fell for it often – we’d open the gate and in the blink of an eye he’s out. He would not answer to anyone’s call, one of us would have to run after him and lead him back home. We were confident that he was just in the neighbourhood, waiting to be fetched.

There were several sightings in the days, weeks that followed, but we never saw him again. After more than a month, the sightings stopped and we thought: somebody must have taken him in already. We were sad, of course, the kids specially. Even Juno was, we noticed. But at some point, I became somewhat angry at Zeus. How can he do this to us? We fed him, and fed him well. We played with him whenever we can, took him on trips around town whenever we had the chance. He loved having a specific spot on his belly rubbed, and we obliged and I found it amusing how, whenever we would miss that area by even just a inch, he would use his paws to guide our hand to the right spot.

Never mind the ones who are leaving because they want to, those who've totally lost faith in this nation, have pledged allegiance to a different flag, but my heart bleeds for those who have to leave home because they need to. It’s not easy. I've tried leaving once, and I just couldn't.

We are among the countries with the richest natural resources in the world, and we live in one of the most beautiful cities in this country. Why are they leaving? Because As big as that pie is, only a few enjoy the lion’s share of it, while the rest are left with crumbs – that’s how it is in this country, and it’s how it is in this city.

What can I say, but fare thee well. Fare thee well.

Behind the fog: keep an eye out

The sunflowers are out, and in Baguio, that means Christmas is just around the corner.

Our two elder children spent most of their lives in Manila, but spent most of their holidays in the summer and Christmas up here. One time, when we entertained the thought of moving down to Manila those two said: we cannot imagine spending Christmas elsewhere but in Baguio so if you do move to the lowlands, you have to make sure that we spend Decembers up there.

How can you blame them – the chill, the fog, the nights warmed by a fireplace or a bonfire, nothing compares to a Christmas in Baguio.

I don’t mean to be a Scrooge here, but in the last couple of years, it seems that bad things are hatched during this time of the year here in our beloved city. Take the SM expansion plan, for example, which was announced at around December of 2011 with plans to start construction early the following year. They probably thought that catching the community by surprise that way would not give them enough time to voice out their opposition. Thanks to the likes of Michael Bengwayan, Chyt Daytec, the Cordillera Global Network led by Atty. Chris Donaal, Glo Abaeo and Gideon Omero and the thousands of concerned citizens who took the streets to stop the sacrifice of 182 trees for a parking facility.

The following Christmas, alliances were made, holy and otherwise, in preparation for the 2013 elections. We ended up with the same old faces up in City Hall whose concept of development is limited to the use of chainsaws, bulldozers and cement mixers, which meant more woes for this abused city in the years to come.

Christmas 2013, a party was allegedly held at an alleged private property on top of a prominent mountain in the city allegedly attended by who’s who in the local media community allegedly hosted by a public official newly-elected to a new position who during the campaign swore to be a protector of the environment. That same property is now in the middle of a controversy and a serious environmental issue when more than 700 trees were mowed down to pave the way for a planned resort. Between the time of that party and the time some concerned citizens discovered the massacre of trees, not a squeak was heard from the media personnel who were at that party who knew of the plan as early as then.

What are we saying? It’s Christmas time once again, go visit the Christmas Village at the Country Club, or maybe the light and sound show at The Manor or the artificial snow fall at Le Monet, enjoy the chill at any one of the remaining parks in the city, or simply, let’s be merry and make it as meaningful as possible, but keep an eye out for it is during this time of the year, under cover of fog, that shenanigans usually occur in our beloved city.

Noli me tangere in the time of Binay, et al

The abuse now comes not from the hands of colonizers, but of our countrymen, and the primary cause of our misery comes not from the abuses themselves but from our refusal to see these abuses for what they truly are - crimes against the people. Noli me tangere, Jose Rizal called his portrait of Philippine society more than a century ago - do not touch it, do not talk about it, know that it exists yet just grin and bear it.

It's how it was then, it's how it still is now. Rizal, through Padre Florentino in the latter part of the sequel to Noli, EL Filibusterismo, asked what need we have for freedom when the slaves of today are the tyrants of tomorrow?

Jejomar Binay, Vice President of the Republic of the Philippines, current front-runner in the race to Malacanang in 2016, is at the center of the country's attention. We did this to Makati, we can do the same for the rest of the country - that sums up his justification for his ambition to become the next President of this country - he offers images of high-rise buildings, underpasses with escalators, luxury cars along the streets of the Central Business District where Dionisia Pacquiao can purchase a handbag that costs as much as three years' worth of blood, sweat and tears for the common Filipino worker. Hidden beyond the concrete monuments is the rest of Makati, representative of the rest of this country: Filipinos living below the poverty, nay, dignity line.

The ongoing Senate hearings on corruption charges against Binay and his family want to turn our attention to the systematic, institutionalized plunder of the city's coffers that's been going on for as long as the Binays have been in power in Makati that made it possible for the family to own what's been alleged as "Hacienda Binay," the size of which can probably provide land to all of the thousands of Makati's homeless and more.

Why aren't there a million people massing up along EDSA, a million voices calling for justice? Because to a lot of us, being in power means getting away with plunder, an opportunity to serve selfish interests. For if not, nobody would dignify the moro-moro that is Philippine elections - for how can anyone justify spending millions of pesos to win a seat that would pay a few thousands a month for the next three years?

Try tallying up the cost of winning the chairmanship of any one of Baguio's biggest barangays, put it next to how much a barangay captain gets as salary. "Ang swerte naman niya," we say about the young man who's been accepted to the police force, not because he has been given the chance to serve the community, but because he now has the opportunity to get his hands dirty with money earned questionably.

A cancer that's spread from head to toe, that's how deeply rooted corruption is in this country. Public service is an empty concept for most - the public's welfare can easily be set aside for the opportunity to pocket SOPs from inane public infrastructure projects like parking lots and gates in parks, throw in dozens of monograms on overpasses and waiting sheds.

But consider, too, the role models this country had - the friars and governors-general for three centuries, the yanks for half, fellow Asians for a few years, no wonder we had Ferdinand Marcos for a couple of decades and two plundering presidents more recently one after the other. For that's what we were taught power translates to: impunity. It's time we change that.

I've said this before and I say it again - for all of the failings of PNoy's administration, perceived or otherwise, it's efforts to punish people in power for crimes against the people is setting this country on the right track. But that "daang matuwid," as straight as it can be, is an uphill one and we can only get this country up there if most of us will get behind and help push it up. It's time we say no, being the president, vice president, a senator, congressman, governor, mayor, barangay captain, policeman, a person behind the desk at any government office does not give you the right to steal from the people, to take away hope from the farmers in the fields, the workers who carry hollow blocks on their backs from sun up to sun down, the children who walk kilometers before sunrise to get to school in time to sing "Aming ligaya na pag may mang-aapi ang mamatay ng dahil sa'yo."

Really, it is not, well, "OK lang" for people in power to steal, whether billions of pesos or a ream of bond paper, from the people. If the Binays, Revillas, Enriles, Estradas and for that matter, the Aquinos, et al did commit crimes against the people, they must be punished.

Let me quote, albeit with a bit of paraphrasing, from playwright Malou Jacob's translation of Padre Florentino's conclusion in El Filibusterismo in the play, "Pepe" -

Ang ating kasamaan ay sa atin din buhat, huwag natin sisisihin ang kahit sino. Hanggang ang bayang Pilipino ay wala pang sapat na tibay ng loob upang ipahayag ang kanyang karapatan sa lipunan at patibayin ito, sa pamamagitan ng sakripisyo ng ating sariling dugo, samantalang namamasdan natin ang ating mga kababayan na nakikisama sa mga nang-aabuso, upang kutyain ang ang mga inabuso. At hangga’t nakikita nating pinupuri sa tulong ng pilit na ngiti ang mga lalong nahahalay na kagagawan, at nagmamaka-awang humingi sa pamamagitan ng tingin ng isang bahagi ng napala.

Be and let be

It’s a simple question nobody seems to have a simple answer to: why are some people gay?

I was invited to be a speaker at the 5th Parents’ Congress organized by the Child & Family Service Philippines and the SLU Sunflower Children’s Center last October 11, and I was assigned this topic: “Doing Good for our LGBT Children: Psychological Tips on Raising Happy Gay Kids.”

I arrived early so I got to listen to the presentation of Ms. Annie Salvador, and she said something that almost made me review my own presentation, perhaps even revise it: according to research, “homosexuality MAY NOT BE ENTIRELY learned or acquired.” Caps mine.

I sat there, waiting for my turn at the podium, thinking: I don’t have scientific research or studies to cite, and only had experience to go by. Does that count?

Because, see, I was born in the 70s, to a mother who’s a theater actress. You know what they say about theater, so yeah, I grew up surrounded by gay people. In fact, I was told that at my Christening, all my godparents were gay men save for one woman. One of them found time to gather butterflies to release in church to celebrate my baptism. Another came in drag.

Later in life, at 14, I myself would enter the world of theater. My very first professional gig was directed by a brilliant theater artist - gay. That production was handled by one of the best stage managers in the industry - gay. I was curious about what goes on backstage and worked as a stagehand for a while before eventually becoming a stage manager myself eventually. And as one, I got to work with some of the greatest theater artists in the country, and a lot of them were gay.

In all those years working for various theater companies in Manila, easily half, maybe more, of my colleagues and friends were either gay, lesbian or bisexual. I even learned to speak the lingo, which prompted my own mom to ask me one night: are you gay?

So why am I straight? All the “ingredients” were present for me to “learn” or “acquire” homosexuality. Heck, I even found my gay-couple friends’ relationships kinda cool that I actually wondered if I could ever be in one. But when I thought about it, I found the idea of myself being intimate with another man repellent, perhaps in the same way that a gay man would find the idea of being intimate with a woman repellent too. Bi/pansexuals are lucky, if you ask me.

On the other hand, I have a son who was raised in a “straight” environment – as a child we played all those “masculine” games, I taught him to climb trees, play basketball, hit cans with a slingshot, he had monster trucks and action figures, etc. He’s gay, and proud of it, as I am of him too.

See, from where I stand, it’s not a virus, nor a bacterium that anyone can catch. Nor is it a “mannerism” or “skill” that can be learned or acquired. We are either born straight, gay, lesbian or bisexual – some of us embrace our sexual orientation, whatever that may be, and live happily outside the closet, others spend their lives inside it and in denial, oftentimes forced to do so by external influences: relations, peers, community, society.

But who can really deny nature? Dams burst because we try to deny water’s nature. Grass will grow no matter how many times you mow the lawn. Birds in cages can never be as beautiful as the ones soaring in the sky.

So yeah, be and let be.

Sunny side up

count your blessings

one coin
at a time
the garbage truck's late today 

and the car's all out of gas

so you walk

and walk some more
carry all that on your back
and one 

by one
you drop them
leaving traces 

on the ground

remember never to walk this way again

today's happiness is 

two sunny side up eggs

New day

Woke up to a heavy downpour. It's half past five in the morning and power's out, and there's hardly any light outside that the trees swaying in the wind are giant silhouettes dancing to an eerie symphony of howling wands, rain bearing down on roofs, branches breaking, windows left unlocked slamming. The dance of the fallen, I thought. Nothing else is moving in the dim kitchen except me and the clock on the wall. I light a candle.

The 20th of September, 2014, the 13th typhoon of the year makes landfall. The neighbor's rooster crows a hopeful crow, the only reminder that this is still, despite the tempest, indeed a brand new day. You know, the first of the rest...

It is much brighter now, light finds a way through thick clouds. The porch is littered with leaves. Bamboos not strong enough to withstand the gusts, or flexible enough to bend in the wind, lay on the ground. I will clean up later when the rains slow down a bit.

But it is a new day. I've forgotten how fresh the air felt after a storm. The wind sweeps and the all that water washes away all that is yesterday's, and we're left with a clean slate. On this 41st year, a clean slate.

And there - today is, indeed, a good day and a good way to celebrate a birthday.

If it's not on Facebook

Bumped into someone who was involved with the protest against the expansion plan of SM City Baguio yesterday and he asked: "why did you leave our group?" What do you mean? I asked back. "Why did you stop?" Stop what? "Protesting against SM?"

So if it's not on Facebook, it doesn't exist? Or if you're not on Facebook, you're nowhere?

Nah, I never stopped believing that it's wrong to easily sacrifice the majority's welfare and future for the benefit of a few. I just stopped believing that ego-tripping, posting links and commenting on comments on Facebook will save the environment.

Sunday mornings

At home. I love them. 

Put that phone down

Photo from techpp.com

Common sight at most gatherings these days (be it a performance on stage, graduation ceremony, a spectacular sunset, a baby's first steps, etc.): people with their smart phones held up to record the spectacle.

I was at a nephew's wedding where my wife was ninang and I volunteered to take photos and I had to compete with dozens of guests and relatives for the best angle to take photos of important moments during the ceremony and the reception. During the entrance of the entourage, of the bride, when groom received the bride, when they sat down, when they stood up, when the priest blessed them, when they put on the rings, when they were pronounced man and wife and when they kissed as a married couple for the first time, they were there, with their arms stretched out, phone in hand... click.

This images would go in Facebook status updates and photo albums, or on Twitter or Instagram, and will be buried under the deluge of the next day's status updates and memes and viral videos and the occasional petition for world peace.

In the meantime, years from now, perhaps at the couple's 10th anniversary, the next family reunion, when they look back at that beautiful day, they won't remember exactly how the moment felt as much as they would remember how that phone felt in their hand and how the scene looked on their tiny LCD screen.

That's a lot of people's first impulse right now at anything worth remembering - look, a beautiful flower!, uh, oh, a car accident, a full moon!, a sunset, a sunrise, a nice plate of delicious food, heck, even intimate moments between a man and a woman and a man and a man and a woman and a woman... take a photo or a short video clip.

And years from now? They won't be able to relive that same moment in the same way as those they experienced with their senses - how it looked not through a screen but as seen by their eyes, how the aroma of that dish whetted their appetite, how it actually tasted, how the environment felt, how the music played in the air. They will be reliving the moment they took out that phone and took a photo of something or other.

Sure, there are moments that are worth capturing in a photo or video, but unforgettable moments are better experienced with the senses, and that's exactly what makes them unforgettable.

Put that phone down more often, really, and smell the flowers.

This fine young man

This is what we woke up to this morning: a photo of two of our children at a demonstration against the government's inaction to SM's proposed expansion project that would result in the removal of 182 trees on Luneta Hill. In the photo, our son was holding a placard which was photoshopped to show the following:

"Aliping for President 2016"

The photo has since been taken down, thanks to the anonymous poster who granted our plea to do so, and as irresponsible and below-the-belt it was, and as much as I feel so guilty for allowing myself to be among those who were at the forefront of that protest movement that resulted in our children being dragged into the mess, we'd like to put that behind us. So there, thank you, whoever you are, Save Baguio of Facebook.

But let me tell you about that boy.

His critique of my work, particularly as a theater artist, is among those I value the most. He was not even three when he first started asking me questions about my production of "Pepe," a play on the life of Jose Rizal written by Malou Jacob which our theater group, Open Space, first staged in 1998, the year he was born.

In one of our re-stagings, he asked why the first part of the performance depicted our national hero rather comically, and what the real story was behind the slapstick that I as Pepe and my co-actors presented onstage. He asked why Pepe said that he was also Placido Penitente, Isagani, Basilio, Simoun, and Padre Florentino. One evening after watching that Disney movie, "A Bug's Life," he quipped, "Flick is just like Pepe, right Papa? He wanted to change things."

And he never let get anything in the way of what he believed was right, I would tell him some years later.

He liked that performance-art piece, "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll," very much and our conversations about the characters in that piece were way more meaningful than ones I had with much older people. He would particularly rave about the segments "The Artist" where the actor ranted about how technology has forced him to stop making art, "Dirt" that depicted how we've managed to turn our world into a human cesspool, and "Benefit" that depicted, among many other ills of this social epoch, how detached some people are from reality, etc.

He's good at everything he puts his heart in. He was six or seven when he first got hooked on football, and once scored seven goals in a tournament. After being awed by good friend Ethan Ventura's guitar playing, he wanted to learn how to play too, and has since been filling up the house every now and then with Bach's Bourree and blues riffs. He took up taekwondo for a couple of years and has a haul of dozens of local, regional and national bronze, silver and gold medals in his room. You should see his photos - he's taken up photography recently.

He reads, and reads voraciously, lapping up literary gems from Marquez to Murakami to Nabokov to Tolkien to Tolstoy. And Rizal, El Filibusterismo is among his all-time favorites along with One Hundred Years of Solitude which he read, and had long discussions with me about, when he was 13. Our conversations about that play, "Pepe," has gotten more interesting too after reading Noli and Fili.

We disagree about many things - the challenges of rearing a teenager, but we do agree a lot on many things too. Like how the concrete pine tree, which has since been removed, at the top of Session Road was a symbol of the many wrongs about our city today. Or how misguided the decision was to fence Burnham Park and pour concrete on much of the Rose Garden.

He wouldn't cross the road when the light is red and there are no cars in sight, even if he's the only one standing at the curb - he's stubborn that way. He was the first to decide to boycott SM when their expansion plan was announced late in 2011, and has since been boycotting the mall. While his siblings, too, supported the family's decision not to patronize a corporation that threatens to put its interest ahead of that of the community's and would voluntarily join me during demonstrations against the planned removal of 182 trees, he was the one who stood with me, a heavy video camera on his shoulder, during most of the rallies. When school started along with the hearings on the case we filed against SM, DENR and DPWH, he would always ask me at the end of the day how the last hearing went.

His grasp of this particular environmental issue never failed to amaze me. I always thought that he could debate any of SM's apologists and supporters and be able to clearly express all that is wrong about their expansion plan.

When the news of Congressman Nicasio Aliping's destruction in Mt. Kabuyao broke out, he was very agitated. This 15 year-old found it hard to comprehend how grown-ups like Aliping, who looked people in the eye during the campaign and vowed to be a protector and steward of the environment, someone who's supposed to represent the people's best interest, can do something like that.

He does his best to do his share - from simple things like simply saying "huwag niyo na pong i-plastic" when buying something from the neighborhood sari-sari store, to speaking his mind about social issues that's affecting his immediate community, his country, his world.

It broke my heart when the anonymous Facebook user chose an image of him to forward his own agenda - he didn't deserve it. I felt guilty even, very guilty in fact, that he was dragged into the mudslinging that's been going on when what the community needs now is to unite to defend the welfare, dignity and heritage of this beautiful city. I have that same photo, in fact, taken during that church-led demonstration against SM's expansion plan and the government's apparent inaction, nay, endorsement of it. He was asked by the organizers if he would like to hold up a sign at the head of the rally, and he rather shyly agreed, but proudly did.

The anonymous netizen could have chosen to satirize me - been getting a lot of that from people who don't really know what forwarding the Luneta Hill cause entailed then and what forwarding the Mt. Kabuyao cause is taking now. But yeah, I'm fair game, but not my children, please. Not any child, please.

It's easy to grab a photo online, alter it, type in an insult, defamatory statements, smear one's reputation on a Facebook status update, I'm glad my son knows that, and knows too that it takes way more than that to sincerely forward an advocacy.

I'm even more glad that, seeing how he handled that offensive altered photo, that it takes more than that to break his resolve to stand by his principles. I don't have much in life materially, there are so many things that I will not be able to give him, but if there's one thing I'd like to be able to ensure that he has, that's it - prinsipyo.

That's Leon, the boy that the offensive photo tried to put down, our son, one of five children, five beautiful children with their heads held up high knowing that they're doing all they can to be responsible children and citizens of this city, this country and as children of the universe, while their feet remain planted firmly on the ground.

He's a fine young man, and we're very proud of him.

That proposed parking facility (what they will and will not tell you...)

They will tell you that the proposed construction of a parking facility at the Melvin Jones grounds is a necessity that must be implemented to help decongest the Central Business District of the city.

What they won’t tell you is that this initiative is not a fool-proof solution to this problem. In fact, taking their justification at face value, it appears to be a foolish proposition. Burnham Park is within the Central Business District of the City of Baguio, and they’re proposing to get all those cars out of Session Road and its immediate environs and get them into the proposed parking facility at the Melvin Jones grounds. Obviously, this will just move to congestion from one part of the CBD to another – a public park. Yes, a public park where most of Baguio’s residents who cannot afford a day at the mall or a weekend playing golf at an exclusive country club go for recreation; a public park where children play and get closer to nature and breathe fresher air. The proposal is have a couple of thousands of vehicles added to the thousands that pass through the park spewing noxious fumes in a haven for clean air, peace and quiet.

Traffic congestion occurs when there are more vehicles within a road network designed to carry a much lesser number. Their proposal is to attract thousands of vehicles to an area flanked by Harrison Road, Lake Drive, Shanum St. and Jose Abad Santos Drive . Save for the latter two which don’t experience much heavy traffic, the other two roads already suffer congestion practically at all hours of the day.

They will tell you that there is no other place to build this facility but in the only remaining sizeable piece of open space in the CBD.

What they won’t tell you is that they refuse to entertain the proposal to build their proposed parking facility in an area that’s already being used as a parking lot – the area next to the Athletic Bowl. They will tell you that it’s too small. But even if you offer suggestions such as building smaller facilities in different parts of the city that would distribute the volume of vehicles to a much wider area instead of concentrating the traffic in one, which makes more sense if the idea is to decongest, they will still insist that the Melvin Jones grounds is the best place for it.

They will tell you, that the proposed project will not harm the environment. And they will tell you, too, that they will “put back” the field on top of this proposed facility after it’s built.

What they won’t tell you is how much disturbance the construction will cause in the area’s eco-system and that there is no telling exactly how much environmental damage it will cause until it’s built and in operation. But think about it: with dimensions of roughly 230 by 100 meters or an area of 23,000 square meters or a little over two hectares, imagine how much earth would have to be removed to construct this facility. Imagine, too, how much rainwater that much space absorbs and what will happen to that much water when the area is concreted. Perhaps they also won’t tell you about the incidences of flooding in the area in recent years and how this construction project might worsen the situation.

The Baguio Water District, still reeling from the effects of Congressman Aliping’s Mt. Kabuyao shenanigans, and long struggling to provide water to the city's residents, operates wells in that area. The Melvin Jones grounds is an aquifer – a natural water storage facility. So they probably won’t tell you too about how much it will affect the water supply of the city.

Lastly, for now, if we bring up Presidential Decree No. 1216 which states, and I quote, “WHEREAS, there is a compelling need to create and maintain a healthy environment in human settlements by providing open spaces, roads, alleys and sidewalks as may be deemed suitable to enhance the quality of life of the residents therein;” and goes on further to state that “WHEREAS, such open spaces, roads, alleys and sidewalks in residential subdivision are for public use and are, therefore, beyond the commerce of men;” their lawyers might argue, as one did during a forum they hosted, that the aforementioned law has since been modified. What? Why? When? By who? We, non-lawyers, might ask.

And that, my friends, summarizes the modus operandi of the proponents of this proposed destruction of an important part of the city’s heritage – they will bend, pervert, corrupt the laws of the land to forward this misdirected initiative and perpetrate this injustice.

Inayan and Gawis ay Biag

I just came from a road trip with my son. I needed some photos of various Cordillera cultural icons for a project and I thought that this would be a good opportunity to let my son, and eventually and hopefully soon every single one of my children, in whose veins run the same blood as the people who call this awe-inspiring mountain range home, to experience the same sense of belonging that I did from the very first time my mother brought me here as a child, to the time I would come here every time I needed some time away from the dog-eat-dog world that was, and is, Manila as a young man, to the time I decided this is the place I want to spend my life in.

Banaue, Ifuago, ca. 2014

As a child I fell in love with Baguio specially when it rains. I loved the warmth of the homes of my mother's friends, and the warmth of their friendship. I was awed by the serenity of Sagada, the majesty of the Ifugao landscape, the scent of the mountains, I could go on and on. I wasn't surprised at all when one day, after a trip alone across the Cordilleras that ended with a stay at some friends' home in Baguio, I decided to give up our place in Manila and make this beautiful city my home. 

We arrived in Kiangan at sunrise, and after going around the town, all the while reminding my son that this was where his grandmother spent her early years as a child, we proceeded to Banaue. It felt good that some friends I met there more than a decade ago, particularly the owners of a restaurant that would eventually be my regular stop whenever I was there, remembered me. Like old friends, we were welcomed warmly. We left our bags at the restaurant before proceeding to Batad.

What used to be a 2 to 3-hour trek is now a mere hour's walk and if the project of building a road from the main road proceeds as scheduled, by early next year motor vehicles would now be able to go all the way to Batad. And while the thought that even the physically-challenged, persons with disabilities, or the elderly will be able to experience the beauty of the place was welcome, I also wondered how the influx of tourists would affect the culture and landscape of Batad.
We have seen this in Banaue, where there are now less farmers, carvers, weavers and way more store-owners, innkeepers and restaurateurs.

My son, Leon, taking it all in (Demang, Sagada)

We proceeded to Sagada from there and while having coffee at a roadside cafe, we noticed how every 15 minutes or so a huge truck would pass carrying heavy construction equipment - more roads are being paved.

I needed a photo of a Patpatayan and an authentic dap-ay, which had us abusing our van over rocky roads to get to Demang, Sagada where we met Biag, the current village chief. He was named after Biag, an ancestor who is said to be the first settler in Sagada. Biag is a staunch advocate of the preservation of indigenous culture. "This is one of the curses of modern education - the younger generation now know very little about native wisdom." His house, built in the mid-80's, was the last one built through the Ug-ogbo, or reciprocal labor system. "I did not spend a single centavo on labor when I built this house," Biag shared, "people in the community all contributed, that's how it was before. And later on, when the time comes that they need my help either in building a house or working their farm, I will be there for them. But now? Everybody wants money." 

With Biag of Demang, Sagada

He's especially saddened that the concept of "Inayan," which may be translated simply as taboo or "must never be done," which Biag considers as among the most important life lessons that a person must learn, is now lost on the youth. For example, it is Inayan when someone diverts the flow of water to his own farm and deprives others of irrigation. It is Inayan to cause so much damage to nature for one's own selfish interest.

While listening to Biag talk, I was reminded of the more than 700 trees that were cut on Mt. Cabuyao to pave the way to a resort owned by the family of our very own congressman. That is, as I understood from Biag, definitely Inayan. It makes me wonder how Congressman Nicasio Aliping, now the representative of the people of Baguio, an Igorot who traces his roots to where Biag himself comes from, can do something like that.

If there's one life lesson that I wish my son will never forget from this road trip, it is the thought that Gawis ay Biag, or the beautiful life, can only be achieved if one lives it in harmony not only with the community but more importantly with the environment.

Baguio is weeping

A gloom has been hanging over Baguio these past days. The clouds that blanket these mountains after a rainfall used to remind me of a mother gently wrapping a child in a blanket for a warm, good night’s sleep. Now, the grey that envelopes what was once thought to be the most beautiful hill station in Asia helps paint a portrait of a tired, abused mother. Baguio is weeping.

Because the very people who are supposed to protect her are perpetrators of that abuse. They take and take from her, and almost never think of giving back. Our mothers always reminded us as children: “put things back where you found them.” It’s as if their own mothers never taught them that. Or perhaps they never listened.

“Never take what’s not yours.” I’ve always admired the Igorot concept of land stewardship. Nobody owns the land, we are mere stewards. They do cut down trees whenever necessary, and before they do they pray to the spirits that dwell in those trees. And they give back whenever they take (take a tree, plant more trees), and they never take more than what nature can provide. They know they have to keep in mind the welfare, too, of the future generation – their children, and their children’s children.

There are those who look down on the Igorots’ concept of spirituality, it’s pagan, uncivilized, but to me the thought that a spirit lives in every single living thing around us makes so much more sense than the belief that we humans have dominion over everything around us. The difference in those two sets of beliefs has a lot to do with the destruction of our natural environment, and, in the process, our very own.

To cause so many ill-effects on so many people for the benefit of one, or one family, is wrong. It doesn’t matter that you’re holding a piece of paper that says you own that piece of land, your freedom ends where the freedom of another begins, your rights end where another person’s, or in this case, other people’s rights begin.

And those rights include the right to a healthful, safe environment – indeed, the right to be alive, to live at all. They cannot do that when the water in their wells have dried up because trees that provide hold water have been killed. They are not safe when trees that protect them from landslides and flooding and other natural calamities have been killed.

And who killed them, those trees?

Baguio’s very own congressman figuring in the massacre of hundreds of trees on Mt. Kabuyao says a lot about us. Most of us voted for him, chose him to represent us. He is us. With the way Baguio is today, it would seem like that the choice we made was apt. What he did to Mt. Kabuyao seems to represent what most of us do to the rest of the city – trees are being killed everywhere, garbage is dumped all over, every inch of natural space is being cemented over.

Baguio, our mother, can only take so much abuse. And we have been abusing her for so long now, more so in the last two decades. It’s time we stop, and start thinking of ways to help her recover from all that abuse. And once we have that in our minds, and hearts, we act on them, beginning with choosing leaders who would truly represent our dream of helping our mother get back on her feet. We do that for ourselves today, and tomorrow’s children who would want to play, too, as most of us did not so long ago, in un-fenced and un-gated parks, rest under the shade of majestic pine trees, drink water from unpolluted rivers and springs.

Baguio is weeping, her children have betrayed her. Let’s acknowledge that betrayal, and start making amends.

For now, for this, Bravo, Aquino!

Ever heard, in the history of this republic, of a former president and senators being detained on plunder charges?

We can set that aside, and instead focus on, say, the non-inclusion of perceived allies of the administration in the filing of cases against those implicated in the infamous pork-barrel scam, or perhaps the rising numbers of high-profile killings. We could even go back to the mishandling of the rescue and relief efforts in the wake of Yolanda, or even as far back as the botched rescue efforts in that Luneta hostage-taking incident. For now, I’d rather keep my eyes on Ramon Revilla, Jr.’s photos while being taken into custody, booked and put behind bars.

I am also awaiting the imminent arrest, or surrender if they are to be believed, of Senators Juan Ponce Enrile and Jinggoy Estrada.

I don’t know for sure whether they’re guilty or not, that’s for the courts to decide. But the evidences so far presented, at least those made available to the public, definitely shows that people’s money was stolen from the government, and there are people in various branches of the government who benefited from the crime. The paper trail led to the doors of the good offices of these three gentlemen, and now they, on the one hand, will have the chance to prove their innocence, or on the other hand, the government can now prove, beyond reasonable doubt, these men’s guilt.

Whichever way the case go, our nation just took great steps towards true democracy – we can now show not only all Filipinos but the rest of the world that what we have is indeed a government of, for and by the people.

Kawawa naman, said one netizen in a comment to a news item showing Revilla being photographed in police custody. Kawawa naman? Maybe, but how about our less fortunate countrymen who die in ill-equipped, under-staffed hospitals that the alleged stolen millions could have easily prevented? How about Filipino children who are forced to forego education and grow up poorer than their parents ever were because the government doesn’t have the money to make education accessible to every single Filipino? How about those families living in the streets, under bridges, dangerously along the banks of polluted rivers because our government cannot afford to provide homes to its citizens?

We can’t expect a 180-degree turn in just a couple of years, we are where we are right now because of hundreds of years of slavery in the hands of our colonial masters and decades of abuse in the hands of our own chosen leaders. The country’s been in a rut for a long time now, and a step, no matter how small, in the right direction is enough reason to be optimistic, to be hopeful.

For now, and for this, I say, Bravo, Aquino!

And now, how about putting monetary value on all those trees illegally cut up in Mt. Sto. Tomas and on the damages that the cutting resulted into – that case may just be worse than plunder.

Of Hypocrites and Brecht

“Where are the people who spearheaded the protest against SM City Baguio?” Someone asked in his status update on Facebook. “Hypocrites,” one commented.

This is in reference to the hundreds of pine trees that were felled on Mt. Sto. Tomas, in a property allegedly connected to the recently-elected congressman of Baguio, Nic Aliping, and the rally that was held a few days ago. The gathering did not have the numbers that the first protest rally against SM City Baguio’s expansion plan had. Hence, perhaps, the seething remark.

Sure, some of them were there during some of the protest actions then. But they were not there when we had to hold vigils for nights on end watching the trees on Luneta Hill, or during that confrontation between dozens of SM’s security personnel and workers, backed by the local police, when we learned that they’ve began removing trees from the area despite the issuance of Temporary Environmental Protection Order from the court, or that week a group of youthful environmental advocates stood on Session Road from sun up to sun down to gather signatures supporting the cause, or during the marathon hearings that drained the group not only physically, mentally but also financially having to dig into personal funds to be able to photocopy legal documents or have lunch at all.

And not all rallies against SM City Baguio had the numbers, I remember one particular night when we held one right across the expansion site where there were only less than a dozen of us carrying a streamer that said “all we are saying, give trees a chance.”

Sure, those protest actions were all over the news at the time, mostly from the point of view of SM City Baguio. But admittedly, that was not the doing of the protesters, it was SM’s immense public relations machinery that actually kept the issue in the news with their incessant justifications.

But I just hope they realize that it took way more than rallies to forward the cause then, and it would take more than rallies to forward this cause now.

During times when, from the thousands who marched down Session Road to the hundreds who joined tree-planting activities and concerts advocating the cause, we were left with just a handful of people, we didn’t whine about who’s not there, we instead linked arms and got strength and courage from who’s there at all.

We condemn this latest attack on the city’s natural environment, even more so now than during SM’s attempt to remove 182 trees from Luneta Hill for a parking building, since now it’s coming directly from City Hall. Trees on Mt. Sto. Tomas that provide much needed water to the residents of Baguio are being cut to make way for a resort, allegedly owned by the brother of the very person that’s supposed to represent the people of Baguio (and indeed their welfare) on the one hand, and on the other, the Mayor’s proposal to dig up Melvin Jones Grounds, which currently serves the residents as a park, an aquifer that stores and absorbs excess water run-off that provides us with both water and protection from floods, for a parking facility.

And if all we’re prepared to do is join one rally then whine on Facebook, then this is a lost cause. So instead of asking for the whereabouts of the people who spearheaded the protest against SM, why not spearhead this one?



Take it from Brecht, in this scene from his play, The Life of Galileo:

Andrea: Unhappy is the land that breeds no hero.
Galileo: No, Andrea: Unhappy is the land that needs a hero.

Destination: Urban Decay

This time it’s not just some corporate entity with no history with the city that’s doing the damage – our very own congressman has been implicated in the issue, the very same person who’s supposed to represent this city’s sentiments, its people’s well-being, its voice in congress. Various media outlets have reported that a complaint has been filed against him.

This is where the city is headed: urban decay.

I am involved in a project right now – writing about the various cultural icons of the Cordilleras, of the Igorots, and one of the things I learned in this project is that the Igorots have a very close relationship and live their lives in harmony with the environment. That’s not even accurate – it is their belief that they are one with the environment. That every plant, every tree, every hill and mountain, has a soul just like us. And that’s why I don’t understand how our Mayor and Congressman, both Igorots, both true natives of this land, can do or propose to do or allow that much harm to the environment.

We’ve allowed these people too much power, in a country where our constitution supposedly guarantees that true power resides in the people and not in Mauricio Domogan, Mayor, Congressman, and now Mayor again, and Nic Aliping, once a Councilor and now Congressman of the City of Baguio, once the official Summer Capital of the Philippines, once considered to be the most beautiful hill station in Asia.

Hundreds of trees have been cut for a road allegedly to service a resort being constructed in Mt. Sto. Tomas. Not much different but definitely worse than the 182 trees that SM wanted out of the way. This came, pardon me for saying this over and over again in this column, at the heels of the Mayor’s determined stance to desecrate the Melvin Jones grounds for a parking facility. What’s the big deal?

We warned then, at the height of the protest against SM, that if the biggest commercial center in the city gets its way, what would stop others from doing the same? What is exactly is that? Sacrifice the environment for money. That’s what the SM expansion plan was really all about above everything else, that’s what the Mt. Sto. Tomas tree massacre is all about and that’s what the proposed parking facility at the Melvin Jones grounds is all about.

Here’s one scenario: SM gets to remove the only remaining forest cover in the city’s Central Business District and we get to park more cars in the area, the Mt. Sto. Tomas issue is swept under the rug and customers of the alleged resort in Mt. Sto. Tomas gets to conveniently drive to there, and the Mayor gets to realize his dream and digs up the Melvin Jones grounds and builds a humongous parking facility therein allowing even more cars to conveniently get right inside the city center.

At what cost? A severely worsened air quality in the Central Business District, the possibility of flooding around the Burnham Park area due to a severely reduced water run-off absorption capacity, and while there have been reports of the effect already being felt by the residents surrounding the Mt. Sto. Tomas project such as severely reduced water supply, we have yet to feel the full effect of that much disturbance to the area’s eco-system.

I honestly don’t know what else we could do to protect the environment, heritage, indeed the dignity of our home – Baguio. One thing is sure though – we cannot just sit back and allow its decay to happen right before eyes and do nothing. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: we inherited a beautiful city, one built in harmony with and in fact because of its natural environment. What kind of Baguio are we passing on to our children?

The rape of Baguio City

Hundreds of trees felled somewhere up Mt. Sto. Tomas, for the construction of a road, the news report alleged. Baguio representative Nic Aliping's name has been dragged into the controversy. I heard that a rally is scheduled on June 3 to protest this latest attack on Baguio's natural environment.

This is really disturbing. The struggle to protect the city's natural environment is being done on two fronts now, and the alleged antagonists are the very people who were voted into office to supposedly serve the people, the community. They are supposed protect and work for the welfare of this beautiful city.

On one front, there's the Mayor, people refer to him as the 'Father of the City,"who's determined to dig up the fortunately still almost pristine Melvin Jones Football Grounds, and turn it into a huge parking facility. He graciously showed us artist's renditions of his vision and they weren't a pretty site. Out of all the possible sites for a parking facility, which, admittedly, the city badly needs, why there? History books tell us that Daniel Burnham chose to turn the biggest piece of level land in the proposed site for the American hill station at the turn of the 20th century into a public park. The Melvin Jones Grounds make up much of that biggest piece of level land. Not only is the Melvin Jones Grounds part of Burnham Park, it IS, in fact, Burnham Park.

We must do what we can to stop the rape of our city's heritage. The proposed parking facility at the Melvin Jones Football Grounds must be stopped.

The other front is up in Mt. Sto. Tomas. Hundreds of pine trees? That's a lot. In a city known as the City of Pines, the death of one pine tree is one death too many.

If they get away on these two fronts, we lose not only a beautiful open space, nor just a couple of hundreds of pine trees, we lose relevant pieces of the city's heritage, and soul.

I will continue to lend my voice to the movement opposing the continued rape of our beloved mother, Baguio.

Wow Cubao

Konting bilis, may pulis! Makikiraan po. Sorry po. Nauntog yung mama sa knapsack ko.

Mainit sa labas ng bus, nakakalusaw ng laman, ng lakas.

Sa isang madilim na bahagi ng iskinita, may matandang naghahapunan sa loob ng ari-arian niya. Kunyaring pag-aari. Talong metro-kwadradong binakuran ng mga karton ng sigarilyo. Nirerespeto naman ng mga kapit-bahay niya ang hiram niyang puwang sa mundo. May agwat na ilang pulgada ang katabing kartong bakod. Tulog na yung kapit-bahay niyang mag-asawa, pero yung anak nila naglalaro pa ng mga plastik na basong nakolekta sa mga basurahan sa paligid. Love ko 'to.

Kape, mainit na kape. Yosi, boss? Sabi ng babaeng naka-belt bag at shorts. Thank you, meron pa. Napilitan akong kunin ang knapsack mula sa bakanteng silya sa tabi ko't ilagay sa pagitan ng mga tuhod ko. Pakiramdam ko maraming masama ang tingin dito. Pakiramdam ko, hindi ka pwedeng malingat ng sandali sa lugar na 'to. Pakiramdam ko rin, hindi tamang pag-isipan ng masama ang mga tao sa paligid ko, pero pakiramdam ko...

Alas-9 ng gabi, umaalingasaw na ang mga bangketa dito, nagtatapon ng mga pinagkainan, pinagsawaan, pinaglawayan at mga napanis ang mga restawran sa mga kanal. Parang sa Baguio din, sa harap ng gusaling pag-aari ng simbahan, amoy panis. Boom.

Heaven's Touch nga ba yung pangalan ng masahehan na nadaanan? Happy ending? Lakad pa...

Boknoy, balut na binalot sa arinang kulay-dalanghita. May penoy din. Paano kaya nagagawa nung babaeng nagtitindang magmukhang preska pa rin sa init ng panahon habang katapat ang kawaling puno ng kumukulong mantika?

May Smart load kayo? Sabay sagot yung isang tindera ng padabog - wala! Mabigat siguro ang nilolob niya. Sa sumunod na tindahan, parehong tanong, halos parehong sagot. Padabog din. Wala, Globe lang! Ok.

Unli-rice at isang hita ng inihaw na manok ang hapunan ko ngayon. Sa katabing mesa, may mag-asawang nag-aaway yata, kasama yung anak nilang may apat o limang taong gulang siguro. Hindi maiwasang marinig ang kanilang pinag-aawayan. Walang kwenta. Bakit kasi hindi pa natin sinakyan yung unang jeep na dumaan? Walang sounds, sabi nung lalake. Bakit pa kasi kayo sumama kung mamadaliin niyo lang pala ko? Sana umuwi na lang kayo ng diretso! E gago ka pala e, sabi mo sandali lang tayo dun, e mukhang sarap na sarap kang umiinom. E hinihintay ko lang namang sabihin mong umalis na tayo. Hellooooo?!?!? Sinabi ko sa'yong mauuna na kami, feeling gentleman ka naman, sabi mo hindi ko kayang buhatin yung bag ko ng may dala-dalang bata! E bakit, kaya mo nga ba? Tangnang to! Papa 'di ba dati nag-swimming ako sa dagat? Parang walang kamuwang-muwang yung bata sa nangyayari. Pero pakiramadam ko alam niya, at gusto lang niyang ibahin ang usapan. Ang laki naman nito! Sabi nung babae. E sabi ko sa'yo yung number 1 lang order-in mo e. Baka hindi ko maubos 'to! Kunyari ka pa, ubusin mo 'yan! Mama o, kalamansi! Subo muna anak, sabi nung tatay sa boses na napakalambing. Ayoko na, alis na ko, 'di ko na kayang marinig pa 'to. .

Sa overpass, mahimbing na natutulog yung isa pang may ari-arian. Karton din ang tulugan. Sa ilang segundo mula nang masilayan ko siya, mapalapit sa kanya, madaanan siya, at minsan pang muling paglingon, nabuo ko yung araw niyang nagsimula ng mga alas-6 kanina. Nagtawag ng pasaherong papuntang Cogeo at umaasang maaambunan ng ilang piso ng tsuper. Naka bente siguro hanggang dumami na silang taga-tawag ng pasahero. Ibang delihensiya naman. Pero wala na siyang maisip. Natulala ng matagal, 'di alam kung ano'ng gagawin. Kumakalam ang sikmura. Buti na lang na-tiempong nakatingin doon nang may aleng nagtapon ng karton ng pagkain na mukhang may laman pa. Takbo, bago maunahan. Kalahating all-beef-patty-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun-hamburger. Ayos. Gusto man niyang lisanin at lumayo sa mundong ito, ito lang ang mundo niya at 'di gaanong malayo ang nararating ng naglalakad lamang. Pero naglakad pa rin buong araw, malayo-layo rin ang narating, pero masyadong malapit pa rin. Tama na, oras na para maglakad pabalik. Ilang oras din ang lumipas. Ilang oras din ang napalampas na ang isip ay hindi nakatuon sa ngayon, sa dito, sa ako, sa bakit, sa kailan, sa overpass dumiretso, buo pa rin ang benteng kinita kanina. Lugaw pwede na. Kapag ganitong walang pupuntahan, walang inaasahan, walang minamahal at nagmamahal, ang buhay, paghihintay lang ng kamatayang kinakatakutan at inaasam-asam rin. Sa pagtulog ngayong gabi, ilang oras din ang lilipas ng 'di nararamdaman. Mas napapalapit ng mabilis sa katapusan. Dito sa overpass, matutulog akong hinehele ng pundasyon ng tulay na kulang sa tibay dahil kinuripot ng gobyerno ang bayad sa kontratista dahil nag-debut yung anak ni Napoles at kailangan ng bagong sapatos. Dito sa overpass, makakatulog ako sa uyayi ng dagundong ng tren sa ibabaw ko at sa galit na busina ng mga bus sa ilalim. Wala akong kinatatakutan, walang gagalaw sa akin dito dahil para sa mga estrangherong dumaraan, wala ako dito, hindi ako umiiral, hindi ako totoo. Wala ring mawawala sa'kin, wala rin maaaring nakawin sa'kin. Wang-wang ng bumbero, papalapit ng papalapit, tatapat ng saglit at papalayo ng papalayo. May sunog. Makakahimbing na sana nang ayan na naman ang isa pang wang-wang.

Malaki yung sunog.

Walang mawawala sa'kin.

Buntong hininga. Balik sa simula.

Wow, Cubao.

When it rains, it’s four

Summer skipped Baguio this year – from the cold spell from January to mid-March, we went straight to “when it rains, it’s four.” That’s so Baguio though – bright, blue skies in the mornings and then rains in the afternoon just before sunset. But not in March and April.

It cannot be denied, climate change is upon us and if we don’t do something about it now...

I’ve started to till the lawn a few weeks ago, but progress has been very slow. After about half an hour of digging every couple of days or so, I’ve only managed to clear out an area of roughly 10 square meters. We had a concert a couple of weeks ago and things got really busy the last couple of weeks before that. But it’s summer, no rush, I thought. At the pace I was going, I would have been done with tilling, preparing the lawn for re-sodding, in time for the late May showers to keep them hydrated.

But nature had other things in mind – the rains came early this year, and the grass is making a comeback in the area I’ve previously cleared out. And the rest of the lawn that I have yet to touch has grass growing halfway up my knees already. The rosemary patch that I used to weed out every couple of days or so is now almost overrun by weeds – that’s just after a few days of continuous afternoon rain. It’s not easy to keep up with nature when she goes into hyper-mode.

Walking around town the other day, my daughter and I got caught in a torrential rain – with gusty winds that made if feel like a typhoon was upon us. Session Road got covered in a couple of inches of rain rushing down like an angry Bued River. Told her that I think I’d be better off without my leather sandals. She thought I was joking and cringed when I took them off and made a run, with her and I cuddled under a small umbrella, barefoot to cross the road. As soon as she stepped on the rain-blanketed road, her foot served as a dam and water came rushing into her almost knee-high boots. Just wanted to give you an idea of how much water was pouring down Baguio that afternoon. In summer.

So is concreting the Melvin Jones Grounds wise? Does cutting down 182 trees for a concrete parking building make sense? How about hundreds more for a condominium? Most of the natural calamities that have been claiming lives and properties in our country recently mostly involve excessive rains… are we to make matters worse by further diminishing her capacity to protect us from such?

Just think about it.

Of predators, scavengers and cancer

They circle right above, keeping an eye out for the deeply injured, or the dying, even. They see someone struggling to stay alive, they swoop down, taking advantage of the helplessness of their prey.

They don’t care if another predator or scavenger has beaten them to the prey, they will wait for scraps for they know there would always be scraps, and every morsel they can have for themselves is worth the indignity of stooping so low.

Some of them have wings, some have law degrees. All through law school they were taught about the laws of the land, the rights of their fellowmen, about justice, that they eventually swore to uphold. They know their responsibility to society, but they see that as power instead, and they abuse that power. Yes, your helplessness is their source of power. Your misery is their opportunity.

They come in all shapes and sizes – some sport badges that are supposed to be symbols of their duty to serve the people, some have stethoscopes around their necks and pins on their clean, white coats that are supposed to represent their vow to do no harm, and we all know about those who prefer to attach the word honourable to their names.

They are the lowest of all life forms in my book – those who take advantage of other people’s misfortunes to feed their greed.

Nobody could have painted a better picture of all that is wrong with our country as Jose Rizal - it is indeed a cancer. A cancer that the host body, the country, should already start recognizing as the enemy, and begin mustering the will, the power to expel and when we do, do all it can to prevent from ever coming back again.

Ang sakit ng kalingkingan, ramdam ng buong katawan. I learned that line from a play long ago. We should start realizing this as a people, as a nation. The cancer may not have spread to every part of this body yet, but we must not wait for it to reach us directly before we react and do something about it.

Malinis at walang bahid-dungis ang kailangang maging buhay na alay upang ang handog ay maging karapat-dapat. This was how playwright Malou Jacob transcribed Jose Rizal’s words, spoken through Padre Florentino in El Filibusterismo. And that’s the first step – living our own lives righteously, and with dignity, and justly. Only then can we begin to rid our nation of these lowlifes that feed the cancer that is slowly eating us all up.

Commitment - or what I did and would for love

The past week we’ve been meeting almost every single day – warm-up exercises, vocalization, music rehearsals. In the coming week we will be working on blocking and choreography, then acting. It’s been great to be back doing what I love doing the most – telling stories on stage.

With that, let me write about my first love.

We’re currently working on a musical revue that will feature excerpts from various musicals and as soon as I got confirmation from our co-producers that all systems were a go, I already whom I wanted for certain roles and whom I wanted to take care of other production concerns so I was glad, excited, encouraged, totally fired up when all of them said yes to my invitation to collaborate with me on this one.

My choices weren’t only based on their individual talent, but also, and in this particular case more importantly, their professionalism. We didn’t have the luxury of time, so every rehearsal was very, very important. Sure, some of them would miss some of the rehearsals, but I knew that those who would will also work doubly hard to make up for rehearsals missed. Can’t blame them for theater, as it is here and elsewhere in the country, is not a financially rewarding career.

And so we try to make it as easy for everyone as possible, the least we can do knowing that each and every one of them has committed to this production, and in this world, the commitment of the people involved can make or break a show. And that commitment goes beyond simply agreeing to be part of this. For the performers, it means committing to telling their story on stage with all their heart and soul – spending hours outside the rehearsals understanding and internalizing each stanza, each sub-text, and becoming one with the role they’re playing. For the production staff, it means committing to making it as easy as possible for the cast to do their job, and for the cast to do the same.

But most of all, they will commit to making this collaborative effort an unforgettably pleasant experience. Egos would be set aside, it’s all about one thing: the story, and the best way that story could be told – with utmost sincerity.

First love never dies. Cliché but true. Theater’s mine. And I am so happy to be reunited with her after quite a long absence. Because, see, with all the technological advances in the world of art – high-resolution, full HD cameras, sound and lighting systems that we only dreamed of not too long ago, etc., the magic that happens inside that darkened hall when the house lights go out and the performers go out there, onstage, that energy that travels back and forth between the stage and the audience, that irreplaceable interaction between human beings… no technology can ever substitute for that wonderful experience.

And that’s why I have committed myself to this art form from the day I fell in love with it.

Ang mga tunay na bayani ng bayan ko

Sila yung nililigawan ng mga pulitiko kapag may eleksyon, dahil sa kanila nanggagaling ang mas nakararaming boto. Sila yung pinapangakuan ng trabaho, pabahay, pagbabago… na madalas ay nakakalimutan kapag napanalunan na ang halalan. Madalas bilugin ang kanilang mga ulo, papaasahin ng mga pulitikong gaganda ang buhay nila kapag sila’y binoto.

Sila rin yung pibagbabantaan ng sakit o kamatayan kapag nagtangka silang ipahayag ang kanilang tunay na niloloob.

Kasama sila sa dalawampu’t limang milyong kababayan natin na nabubuhay sa mas mababa pa sa singkwenta pesos araw-araw, na sapat limang para sa isang kilong bigas at ilang pirasong galunggong o tuyo.

Sila yung pumupuno ng jeep, dala-dala ang bayong para mamalengke, o si bunso upang ihatid sa eskwela (nakakandong ang bata, para tipid sa pamasahe), o papasok sa trabahong kung saan hindi sapat ang tinatanggap upang buhaying ang kanilang pamilya ng marangal at maginhawa.

Sa Baguio, sila yung hinahabol ng mga tauhan ng pamahalaan kapag hapon, sa Session Road, sa overpass, sa Mansion House, itinatakbo ang mga kung ano-anong paninda para hindi makumpiska dahil bawal hanapbuhay na napili nila – ang maglako ng prutas, gulay o kahit ano’ng may halagang pwedeng ibenta para makapghain ng katiting na hapunan sa mesa. Karamihan kasi sa kanila’y hindi nakatanggap ng sapat edukasyon, kaya limitado rin ang alam nilang gawin upang mabuhay. Sa ilalim ng Saligang Batas ng Pilipinas, ang edukasyon ay karapatan ng bawat Pilipino.

Sila rin yung binubusinahan ng Pajero sa tawiran, na para bang wala silang karapatang abalahin ang nagmamay-ari ng sasakyan dahil kailangan ilang tumawid ng lansangan para makarating sa paroroonan. Daanan nila yung binawasan para palakihin ang kalyeng dadaanan ng mga sasakyan.

Sila yung pumupuno ng kahabaan ng Session Road kapag may parada at mga anak nila yung mga nagsasayaw sa ilalim ng init ng araw para makapagbigay aliw sa mga turista at karagdagang kita para sa mga kapitalistang nagmamay-ari ng mga hotel, restawran, inuman at iba pa – karamihan sa mga lugar na ito bawal ang naka-tsinelas.

Gusto nilang magpagawa ng paradahan ng mga sasakyan sa isang pasyalan dito sa Baguio – ang Melvin Jones Football Grounds, para mas maginhawaan ang mga mayayamang nagmamay-ari ng sasakyan. Tuwing umaga sa oras ng pagpasok sa eskwela, ang mga estudyanteng may kahirapan ay kailangang maglakad ng mas malayo dahil bawal ang mga jeep sa kahabaan ng Gen. Luna habang ang mga hinahatid ng mga pribadong kotse ay naihahatid ng kanilang mga tsuper hanggang sa pintuan mismo ng paaralan. Marami sa kanila ang nanganganib na matibag ang mga tahanan, dahil wala silang titulo para sa lupang kinatitirikan ng kanilang bahay at sa mata ng pamahalaan, iskwater.

Ngunit sila ang nagpalaya sa ating bayan nang sila'y mag-alsa laban sa mga mananakop. Sila rin ang pumuno ng bawat pulgada sa EDSA upang patalsikin ang diktaturya sa ating bayan. Sila yung gumawa ng bahay mo, nagmamaneho ng sasakyan mo, nag-aalaga ng mga anak mo, naglalaba ng mga damit at naglilinis ng bahay mo, nagtatanim ng kinakain mo, nagpapalitada ng daanan mo... sila ng mga tunay na bayani ng bayang ito.

At habang patuloy ang pandarambong ng mga magnanakaw sa gobyerno, patuloy rin silang maghihirap. Marami silang gusting ipahayag sa mga may kapangyarihan, ngunit dahil nga wala silang kapangyarihan, madalas hindi sila pinakikinggan. Ang inilalathala ng mga pahayaga’t istasyon ng radyo’t telebisyon e yung mga naka-barong, mataas ang posisyon sa gobyerno’t lipunan, yung mga may titulo ang pangalan.

Ngunit kahit hindi nila sadyang ihayag ang kanilang sinasaloob, ang kanilang mga pangarap, mithiin, mga hinaing, hindi naman talagang kailangan – huwag tayong magbingi-bingihan dahil umaalingawngaw ang kanilang taghoy sa bawat sulok ng lipunan.

Portrait of a Filipino

I was one of several speakers whose topics ranged from how to register corporations with the SEC, the workings of the Philippine Stock Exchange, the current status of the BPO industry, etc. The audience was composed of potential foreign investors and I was assigned to talk about Philippine history, some kind of a Welcome-to-the-Philippines sort of talk. The intention was for them to have a better understanding of Philippine culture, our people.

Preparing the slides for my talk, it got me thinking, do we really know who we are?

I decided to start off with current events and I wondered what foreigners thought if they read about the countless acts of selflessness during and in the aftermath of Typhoon Yolanda, the Filipinos being the most resilient people in the world who always found reason to smile even in the face of such unimaginable tragedy, the images of village folks clutching religious icons against a desolate and gloomy background, of boys playing basketball surrounded by flattened homes, of Yolanda’s victims finding time to set aside their grief for a while to cheer on a fellow Filipino in the boxing ring in his quest to redeem himself.

What then would they think if after turning the page they see stories about how our congressmen and senators shamelessly pocketed hundreds of millions in people’s money, how that same boxer tried to get away with tax evasion, how our government officials focused much energy on pointing fingers when thousands of our countrymen remained without relief goods for weeks after the typhoon?

Which one one these paint a portrait of the Filipino?

I thought, they would not be entirely wrong if they believe that we are Manny Pacquiao, the poor boy from Gen. Santos down south who made it to the top of the international boxing scene, who believed that his talent for knocking people out made him qualified to craft laws that would uplift the lives of his countrymen. They would be right too to think we are Lea Salonga, international theater and music star. We could be Apl D Ap, the boy from Olongapo who migrated to the U.S. of A. and is now living the American dream. And we are also Flor Contemplacion, found guilty of murder, executed in a Singaporean prison, who was only truly guilty of being poor, helpless and desperate.

Hundreds of years as slaves to different colonial powers may have had something to do with the contradicting portraits of what a Filipino is all about, I thought. For three centuries, the Spaniards made sure that we believed that we are a people inferior to their kind – the fair skinned, high-nosed kind. That we don’t have the power in our own country and they do, and that power meant they can do anything they want with the land and its people. Friars can father children, evict farmers from the land they tilled and nurtured all their lives, and execute Gomburzas and Jose Rizals who dared expose their presence here as an unwelcome cancer.

The 1898 Treaty of Paris taught us that we didn't matter in charting the future of our own country, and that all of these 7,107 islands and everything on, in and below it, its history, its people, cost only 20 million dollars. Then the Americans made sure we understood that our freedom did not depend on the Aguinaldos or the Sakays of this country, but whether they, the Americans, waving the flag of Manifest Destiny, believed we already deserve to be free. They made us believe that in order to teach us how to govern ourselves, we must not be allowed to govern ourselves.

Then there’s Martial Law under Marcos, where we learned that a government that is not by, for and of the people can be just as bad or even worse an enemy as foreign aggressors.

And now that democracy is supposed to have been restored, we are made to believe that we, the people, have the power. Do we? Maybe. And what have we done with that power? We voted rapists, plunderers and incompetent movie stars into office.

And how about the Filipinos who are in power? Don’t expect much, for hundreds of years they were made to believe that being in power meant getting away with almost anything, like the friar who raped a mother, they too now believe they can rape a minor; like the guardia civil who beat up Rizal when he didn’t take off his hat in his presence, they too now believe they can arbitrarily abduct, imprison and even kill anyone and get away with it.



When will we learn that it’s not about power, that being up there is really about responsibility.

And now we are free, so we believe. But are we, truly, free? How can we claim that when we continue to use the same prejudices that our former colonial masters used against us against our very own people today? How can we say we’re free when we continue to try to comprehend who we are and what we’re all about by looking at ourselves through American or Spanish eyes? And as Rizal said, what need do we have for freedom when the slaves of today will be the tyrants of tomorrow?

After I speaking for close to half an hour, I don’t think I was able to paint a clear portrait of the Filipino for my audience, for I myself have no clear idea. I guess that portrait is and will always be a work in progress.

A walk in the park

“Mukhang wala ring epekto yung petition natin,” shared the coach as he watched his team, my daughter among them, make the most of the last few minutes of sun to complete the day’s training session. I really don’t know for sure, I told him, but the letter from city hall I received months ago did say that they’re abandoning the plan to put up gates around Burnham Park and the concreting of portions of the Melvin Jones grounds.

As the sun continued to set, he shouts to the team, “Lipat tayo dun sa may ilaw,” and everyone moves towards one of the few lamp posts in the area. The team has been training diligently almost everyday after school. Most of the players get off at around 4:00pm, it takes them about an hour to get to Burnham Park and change into their jerseys and warm-up. The sun sets quite early these days, so they usually have just an hour of sunlight to train.

With the onset of the dry season, it’s also football season in Baguio. It’s also park season and every afternoon, seeing several football teams training, a group of ultimate Frisbee enthusiasts playing a game, children running around while they parents lazed on the mats laid out on the ground, a few pairs of young lovers dreaming of their future under a tree, an old couple perhaps reliving the past as they walk around holding hands (this is where they could have met, this is where they could have spent afternoons as a young couple, this is where they could have brought their children on weekends…), I know that just like our family, they too would be going home with a sense of calm. That’s only one of the wonderful things that being in a wide, open space surrounded by towering trees and colourful blooms provides…

…along with a renewed sense of being wonderfully alive and being one with the earth with the smell of grass and the feel of the ground under the warm sun on your skin. And that little smile we give each other as we pass each other by walking around the park… that forges a sense of community way better than empty slogans on tarpaulins.

The sun sets, it’s time to go home. We get up and brush off the grass on our backs, gather our things and start walking out. We pass by Lake Drive where the few remaining children on bikes beg their parents for one more round on that trike and off they go, pedalling as hard as they can, with cold wind on their faces, ahhh the exhilaration, excitement, the happiness, they won’t be able to do as much of that when they close that portion of Lake Drive for a whole month to sell substandard products from China and food prepared under questionable sanitary conditions – is it worth depriving children of a wonderful experience for whatever amount they earn whenever they hold the Market Encounter during the Flower Festival… besides, what does a tiangge have to do with a festival that was originally meant to celebrate God’s beautiful creations that this beautiful city has been abundantly gifted with?

We'll make the most of the next thirty sunsets at the park without the unsightly sight of haphazardly set up stalls that ruin the very essence, the very soul of what a park should be.

Desiderata (salinwika sa Pilipino)

Noong 1995, nakatambay kami sa bahay ni Ronnie Lazaro, nagkakape, nakikinig sa radyo. May nilabas siyang isang libro, sabi niya, "makinig kayo." "Sa Daigdig ng Kontradiksyon" ni Pete Lacaba yung libro, at sa isang bahagi, isinalin niya sa Tagalog ang Desiderata. Binasa ni Ronnie.

Mahabang katahimikan pagkatapos, tapos sabi niya, hindi ba't mas magandang sabihin ang Bayang Ginigiliw? Oo nga naman... pangkasalukuyan ang dating, hindi natatapos, tuloy-tuloy. Alam niyo ang kailangang gawin sa bayan ngayon? Tanong niya sa'min. Linisin.

Doon nabuo ang proyektong "Bayang Ginigiliw," simbolikong paglilinis ng Pilipinas. Sa Luneta, doon sa mapa ng Pilipinas, nagboluntaryo kaming linisin ang buong lugar. At kahit yung mapa lang ng Pilipinas ang napagpasyahan naming linisin, na akala namin ay kaya naming gawin sa loob ng ilang oras, inabot kami ng halos isang linggo. Marami-rami rin kami sa simula, ngunit ng nagsilisan na ang mga mamamahayag, ang mga manunulat sa diyaryo, ang mga camera ng mga potograpo't istasyon ng telebisyon, unti-unti ring nabawasan ang bilang namin. Sa bandang huli, mabibilang mo sa mga daliri mo ang naiwan.

Sa bawat araw ng paglilinis, parang dasal, binibigkas namin ang Panatang Makabayan, tapos susundan ng pagbigkas ng Desiderata, salinwika ni Pete Lacaba...

Naging personal kong tradisyon na isulat sa aking bagong planner kada taon ang pagsasalin na'to. Parang paalala ba, paalalang bubukadkad sa'kin tuwing bubuksan ko ang planner na 'to...

Kaninang bago mag alas-sais, ginawa ko ulit ito...

Desiderata, salinwika ni Pete Lacaba

Lumakad ng mahinahon sa gitna ng ingay at pagkukumahog, alalahanin ang kapayapaang maaaring makuha sa katahimikan.

(Parang ngayong umaga, unang araw ng baong taon. Pagod ang karamihan, mahimbing pang natutulog)

Walang isusuko hanggang maaari, pakisamahan ng mabuti ang lahat ng tao.

Sabihin ang iyong katotohanan ng tahimik at malinaw, at makinig sa iba, kahit sa nakayayamot at mangmang, sila man ay may kasaysayan.

(Nitong nakaraang taon, ninanis kong isigaw ang ilang katotohanang sa aking palagay ay kailangang mapakinggan. Ilan siguro rito ay mas mainam na nailathala ng mas mahinahon, hindi nga lang ganoon kadali kung ang iyong pinagsasabihan ay nagbibingi-bingihan)

Iwasan ang mga taong mabunganga at palaaway, sail'y ikinaiinis ng kalooban. Kung ihahambing ang sarili sa iba, baka yumabang ka o maghinanakit sapagkat laging may lilitaw na mas mahusay o mas mahina sa'yo.

Ikalugod and iyong mga tagumpay at mga balak.

(Masaya ako na sa kabila ng lahat, pagkatapos ng lahat ng mga gabing pagpupuyat, mga hapon sa lansangan dala-dala ang placard na nagsusumamo sa mga may kapangyarihan na huwag patayin ang mga punongkahoy sa Luneta Hill, karamihan sa mga ito ay mananatili doon, buhay, at maaari pang paramihin... may iba mang gusto pang ipagpatuoy ang away, ang labanan, ang bangayan... sa akin, mahigit isang daang puno ang mabubuhay at ang sinsasabing nagmamay-ari ng lupa ay nakinig at maaaring patuloy na makikinig sa mga ganitong adhikain, ikinalulugod ko ito...)

Manatiling interesado sa iyong trabaho, gaano man kababa - ito'y tunay na kapangyarihan sa pabago-bagong kapalaran ng panahon.

Maging maingat sa negosyo sapagkat ang daigdig ay puno ng panlilinlang. Subalit huwag maging bulag sa kabutihang nakikita, maraming nagsisikap na makamit ang mga adhikain. Sa lahat ng dako, ang buhay ay puno ng kabayanihan.

(Salamat sa isang Dok Mark, na lingid sa kaalaman ng karamihan, lingid mula sa mga camera ng media, ay linggo-linggong nasa Rizal Elementary School, dala-dala ang ilang kaldero ng masustansyang merienda para sa mga batang kapus-palad at nangangailangan ng pagkalinga)

Maging tapat sa sarili, higit sa lahat, huwag magkunwari.

(Kung may mga paang natapakan ko sa aking paglalakad, pasensya na.... hindi ko kayang ipagkait sa aking sarili ang ilathala ang mga katotohanang dapat ilathala...)

Huwag ding libakin ang pag-ibig sapagkat sa harap ng kahungkagan at kawalang-pag-asa, ito'y lagi't-laging sumisibol tulad ng damo.

Tanggapin ang payo ng katandaan, buong giliw na isuko ang mga bagay ng kabataan.
Pagibayuhin ang lakas ng loob at nang magkaroon ka ng pananggalang sa lahat ng kasawian. Subalit huwag ikaligalig ang mga haka-haka, maraming pangamba ang likha ng pagod at pangungulila.

(Siguro nga... kaya sa mga taong nagkakalat ng mga haka-haka't kasinungalingan, siguro sa taong ito, itulog at ipahinga niyo na lang muna...)

Supling ng sandaigdigang tulad rin naman ng punongkahoy at bituin, may karapatan kang manatili rito. At malinaw man sa'yo o hindi, walang dudang ang sandaigdigan ay bumubukadkad na tulad ng nararapat. Kung gayon, pakisamahan ang Panginoon, anuman ang pananaw mo sa kanya, at anuman ang iyong pinagkakaabalahan o minimithi.

(Mabait ang Diyos, at hinding-hindi siya maninira, mangaalipusta ng kanyang mga nilikha... kaya kung ika'y nangangaral tungkol sa Diyos, huwag sana sa mapanglait na pamamaraan...)

Sa kabila ng pagkukunwari, kabagutan at gumuhong pangarap, maganda pa rin ang daigdig.

(At yan ang totoo...)

Mag-ingat, sikaping lumigaya.

(Oo...)

Maligayang bagong taon!