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!

O Christmas Tree

I don’t know what Wikipedia says about it, but to me a Christmas tree must, first and foremost, inspire. Certain Western theories say that it is a symbol of hope – during winter, at a time when most trees are devoid of leaves, a verdant Christmas tree represents Christ, a saviour appearing in a world filled with strife. I agree with that too.

And give hope. That’s what our Christmas tree at home stirs in me, a sense of hope. That despite all the troubles of the year that’s about to end, a new beginning is on the horizon with its promises that tomorrow will be better and we’ll be happier.

I used to ask our good neighbor for permission to prune their cypress tree towards late November. The cuttings I used to cover a conical frame I usually fashion with wood and chicken wire. For a few years that was a tradition and the scent of cypress was a reminder that Christmas, the season of love, of joy and happiness, was just around the corner. Christmas was, and is, always the happiest time of the year at home.

My wife is at her happiest during Christmas, her favorite time of the year, that happiness springs from making the rest of the family happy. No matter what our financial situation is, everyone would have a few gifts to unwrap. She’s wonderful that way. Christmas is about that, making every single member of the family feel that they’re special.

Usually on Christmas Eve, we dress up and go to church hear mass, after which we would head straight back home for a late dinner. We'd tell stories about the year that was, triumphs and setbacks, and share lots and lots of laughter at the table, then go to bed with the children hardly able to stop themselves from sneaking under the Christmas tree of cypress needles and chicken wire to unwrap boxes with their names on it. All of them at one point obsessed about catching Santa red-handed. But we only had to remind them that Santa was paying extra attention right then for some last minute revisions in that list of children who deserved a special gift from him, and they would immediately forget about risking losing that one special gift from Santa.

We would wake up the next morning to the sound of our children’s shouts of joy upon discovering the gifts that Santa had left for them. There was that one Christmas when Santa actually left a trail of ashy footprints just next to the fireplace and towards the window. Whatever we, the parents, were able to get them for Christmas, Santa always gave the best gifts. And he never forgot to leave a note too for the children – reminders about how they’ve been the whole year and advise on how to be even better children in the coming New Year.

A few years ago, after moving quite far away from our neighbor with a cypress tree, we finally bought a Christmas tree with a steel frame covered with faux-pine needles made of plastic in green and silver. We still tried to spruce it up with some real cypress needles to make it appear thicker, and also because we know that we had to have those cypress leaves for that distinct sweet smell of Christmas.

We’ve been going through a rough patch lately, and when my wife put up the tree just a couple of nights ago, immediately the sense of despair, and anger, and hopelessness, and uncertainty vanished. It’s not an extravagant tree, with just the right amount of lights, and trinkets that tell the history of our young family. Cross-stitched pin cushions. A few Christmas balls in red, green and silver. Some figurines bought from garage sales and ukay-ukay stores. Some random object that a son or a daughter insisted on hanging on the tree. My wife turned on the lights, we all oohed and aahed, and said our goodnights.

I stayed up for a little while longer, staring at that tree. I went to bed with a sigh and knowing that everything’s going to be alright.

Rich man, poor man

The vehicle reduction ordinance, or the number coding scheme, has been suspended in Baguio for the duration of the on-going Fil-am Golf Tournament. “Why?” My son asked on our way to school today, a Friday, the day we’re not supposed to bring our car to town for our plate ends in 9. For the benefit of more than a thousand golfers and their families and friends who are here for the annual Fil-Am Golf Tournament, I answered.

What’s wrong with making it easy for visitors to our beautiful city to go around town without having to worry about getting their SUVs stopped for having that particular last digit on their license plate on a particular day? It actually makes sense and I am sure that it was easy for the mayor to make the decision.

You know, like how easy it was for them to think of a way to ease the traffic along General Luna Street during the morning rush hour - ban public utility jeeps from passing there. You know, just like it was easy for them to grant SM the permit to mow down a whole forest so they can make the biggest mall in Baguio even bigger, and earn more money in the process. Just like it was easy for them to surrender our streets to Jadewell before, and the market to Uniwide – so that these businesses can do more business and earn more money.

Those who have less in life must have more in law. That’s not the case in our city. Here, those who have more in life are given even more in law and everything else. They don’t see anything wrong in looking the other way when it comes to the concerns of the moneyed.

Thousands have been clamoring to pedestrianize Session Road to help clean the air in the city’s central business district and provide the masses a some relief from carbon monoxide, but since it faced stiff opposition from the business owners in the area, the idea has been shelved. The welfare of a few against that of the greater majority, and for the powers-that-be, the former’s always trumps the latter’s.

Jeepneys carrying two dozens of the city’s children from the eastern part of Baguio on their way to school in the morning must walk the extra couple of hundred meters or so because their ride’s not allowed to enter General Luna Street, so that those comfortably in their cars can be dropped off right at their school’s doorstep. If traffic was the main concern for the decision, then ban the private cars instead and allow the jeeps in, for they carry more people.

What I don’t understand, I shared with my son, is why they find it very easy to make decisions that would benefit those who already have more in life, more often at the expense of those who have less?

In the meantime, be careful when crossing Session Road for the duration of the Fil-Am Golf Tournament: they’ve neglected to paint the pedestrian lanes with stripes for people on foot, and a golfer’s SUV is on its way.