Filming a musical, staging a festival, participating in a revolution and nursing a flu

I really just have to remind myself that I am not that 23-year-old young man in tattered denim pants and jacket embarking on a new adventure in a new yet very familiar city where 8-hour long rehearsals during the day can still be capped with a night out in town at night.

Not that I've been barhopping though, but the last few weeks were toxic. The days leading tot he weekend of February 21-22 were spent polishing scenes scheduled to be filmed on the first two of a four-day shooting schedule. We plunged into those first two days blindfolded: although the play was a familiar one, filming remains a mostly un-chartered territory for the group. Editing the those first few scenes now, I can see how much we still have to learn about film production.

First two days done, and we schedule more rehearsals. We lose six dancers who were cast in supporting roles in several scenes, new dancers were brought in and we start from scratch. We receive word that the Baguio Flower Festival Foundation, Inc. has allotted some funds for the staging of the 5th Baguio Music Festival. We doubt if we cold still take on the responsibility of putting up a marathon concert, so we tried to get beg off. But we also couldn't let the opportunity to provide a gig for 20 or so local bands and individual musicians go, so we reconsider. In the meantime, almost everything's ready for the last two days of the filming of "Pangarap," a musical on the life of one Fernando Bautista.

Insert a People's Summit right here: February 25. Wasn't able to be of much help during the preparations, but I tried to be there early enough on the day of the summit. Projector set-up, registration ongoing, refreshments table organized and we were overwhelmed by the number of participants. We were expecting around one or two hundred, and we had over 600 who came, some had to sit outside the auditorium already.

Energy was inspiring, you know each one just wanted to do their share in making Baguio a better place for all of us.

Back to Pangarap the next day. That Saturday was also the day of the street dancing parade of the Baguio Flower Festival, and I didn't want to underestimate the traffic that it could bring. I arrive at the venue before sunrise ahead of the most of the throngs who were expected to fill up every inch of space along the parade route. There's a barber's chair on stage, I finish most of the coffee I got from 7-11 downstairs and take a nap.

We go through the next two days more smoothly, we did learn a lot from the first weekend. In the meantime, we have confirmed our participation in the 5th Baguio Music Festival. The following Monday after a very, very long Sunday, we were neck-deep in pre-production work for the planned open-air marathon concert at Wright Park. 22 bands and individual musicians so far, our budget can barely cover all expected expenses, but we end up adding more bands to the list. How can you say no to fellow artists who, just like you, are struggling to make ends meet? We order 120 souvenir t-shirts to be printed to be given away for free to every single participant. Did I mention that our budget can barely cover all expenses? We also decided to buy a television set to be given as donation to the Wright Park Pony Boys Association - a good source of amusement for the pony boys particularly on lean days when hardly customers show up for a ride.

The sun was brightly shining when we started setting up the stage and the sound system on March 8, Sunday, also the last day of Panagbenga 2015. Wright Park was a good choice, I thought, away from the crowds at the Central Business District.

By 3PM the first band was onstage doing a sound check. We requested for each performer to limit their time on stage to a maximum of 12 minutes, enough for 2-3 songs. But, once up there, you can hardly do anything anymore when they suddenly segue into an encore or a long ad lib. We were running late by 30 minutes by the time the first hour was up. Schedule kept moving by 5 minutes or so with every performance, some bands get irked, but hey, we're just trying to spread the love and give everyone a chance to be part of this.

The dusty, folk, rock and country music-filled concert, ended around 10pm and it was already midnight when I got to sit on a chair at home. I fall asleep in my chair.

I wake up to a slight fever, a bit of coughing and colds. I shrug it off and start doing post-production work on Pangarap. The body aches came later that day, but still had enough energy to go on working, even able to squeeze in some yard work, which I have neglected the past weeks, in between the splicing, sound processing and rendering.

Felt much better by midweek, so I proceed to start prepping The Living Room for the weekend's Yoga session - mopping, waxing, scrubbing the floors, moving furniture and plants around, even thought of re-opening the weekend cafe. The chills, fever and coughing lingered, but seeing the studio take shape just kept me going.

Went out yesterday to buy the necessary inventory for The Living Room's kitchen. Wanted to make curry, some yogurt, falafels, etc., but after I got home, the fever has gone up, the couch has worsened and I barely had enough energy to make the yogurt. At midnight I woke up shivering and no amount of blankets, sweaters, sweat pants, socks could keep me warm enough to stop the chills. I was shaking so bad, couldn't stop it and it really felt like I was going into hypothermia.

I was in and out of sleep, a bit delirious every now and then RL told me this morning - I was mumbling and mouthing off all sorts of things last night and most of it I have no recollection of whatsoever. I woke up this morning with a very heavy body and a really bad headache.

And, back to work.

Ang mabuhay ng dahil sa'yo (tribute to the SAF 44)

More than three decades ago, I was in first grade and I joined an elocution contest at school. I vividly remember the day of the contest – I was dressed in crisp white pants and an equally crisp white shirt. My grandmother couldn’t find the bow tie she bought for me that morning, and so she fashioned one from a black sock. The improvisation worked perfectly, looking now at the old photograph of myself on stage with one arm raised as I delivered the lines.

She also chose the poem I recited – The Unknown Soldier. I don’t remember the author anymore, so I searched for the poem online and several results for ones with that title came up. I read several hoping that a line or two from any one of them would help me remember which one I spent late nights on learning, memorizing that time in 1980. Two poems looked promising, they both sounded quite familiar.

I will never know the details of the tragic mission that led to the death of the 44 men of the Special Action Force. I know only what everyone else knows: they died a very painful death. So painful that the pain was felt all across the nation. And as the president decided that being there when their bodies were brought back from ground zero to the capital wasn’t enough to cancel his appearance at the inauguration of a car manufacturing plant, the pain just went deeper, and the people are furious. For really, how can he be so heartless?

A close friend of the family is related to one of the slain, but I myself do not know any one of them personally. And while I’ve recited poems almost all of my life, I never did learn how to write one myself. This is one of those moments when I wished I could.

But I do want to put this out there, to the unknown men who laid down their lives for Bayang Magiliw:

They have lowered flags at half-mast in your honor. We are all trying to get a handle on this and millions of our countrymen are eager to have their voices heard, to praise you and your honorable sacrifice. I cannot even begin to imagine what life must be like being one of you: keepers of the peace, defenders of the people and this nation. Unlike you, next to you, I am a coward. I don’t have the courage to carry a rifle, aim it at another human being and pull the trigger. I am not brave enough to get hurt that way, and even more afraid to cause another human being that much pain.

They are supposed to be fighting for something lofty, noble, but they had just committed a most dishonorable deed, those murderers. And while we struggle to come to terms with your tragic death pointing fingers are people whose names follow words like excellency and honorable, yet commit the most deplorable and dishonorable crimes against the people, I hope that we will also not forget that you died not only because of such deplorable and dishonorable acts of our leaders, but also because fellow Filipinos indeed aimed their guns at you and pulled the trigger.

Out of the countless ways we can live our lives, you chose to live yours serving this country. Now that is indeed honorable. Not all of us are given the chance to die for our motherland, but most of us do have the chance to live our lives for her. And that is, perhaps, the least we can do to honor you, the 44 martyrs who died serving our country.

Noy, wala na nga, wala

Aling kalapastangan pa
ang hihigit kaya?
Sa kawalan ng dangal
at pagkaimbi
Gaya ng pagtalikod
sa kabayanihan ng mga magiting
na sa bayan ay buhay ang inalay
Aling kalapastanganan pa?
Wala na nga, wala

#NasaanAngPangulo

Pagpapahayag ng dalamhati at pasasalamat sa pakikiisa

Hindi po namin ninais ang kahit ano maliban sa maiparating sa mga kinauukulan ang aming dalamhati sa walang saysay na pagkaputol ng mga puno sa Luneta Hill.

Ang sa amin lamang po ay hindi makatuwiran na bale-walain ang kapakanan ng mas nakararami para lamang sa kapakanan ng isang korporasyong siya nang pinakamayaman sa buong bansa.

Hindi rin namin pinipigilan ang SM na magpayaman pa kung nais talaga ng pamilya Sy na mas yumaman pa sa kabila ng pagiging pinakamayaman nang pamilya sa buong bansa. Huwag lamang sana sa paraang makakasakit sa iba.

Sa mga hindi sumasang-ayon sa aming paniniwala't prinsipyo, hindi po natin kailangang magtapon ng mga bintang na walang batayan at walang katotohanan. Gayunpaman, nawa'y nagkakaisa tayo sa mithiing isulong ang tama at makatarungan at mga adhikaing ikabubuti ng ating komunidad, ng ating bansa, ng daigdig.

Maraming salamat po sa mga naki-isa. Mabuhay po kayo.

Mabuhay ang Baguio, ang mga taga-Baguio, ang kalikasan at ang kinabukasan nito.

That afternoon, who really was Damaso?

No apologies, I am not with Carlos Celdran on this one.

I have written about issue in this blog ("But even enemies can show respect") - and Carlos' statements on the issue since failed to change my position.

Celdran was charged with a crime against religious worship, and was found guilty as charged by the lower courts. The decision was appealed and the Court of Appeals upheld the lower court's decision.

He posted this on his Facebook page:

Dear ‪#‎PopeFrancisPH‬ ‪#‎Pontifex‬ My name is Carlos Celdran and I am a citizen of the‪ #‎Philippines‬ and a Catholic. Today, I received news that my legal appeal was denied. I am one step closer to being incarcerated for the crime of "offending the religious feelings" of Filipino bishops back in September 30, 2010 (article 133 of Philippine Penal Code). Please have a word with the bishops of the Philippines. Truth be told, I don't mind going to jail. I only wish that your message of forgiveness, reason, and tolerance finally reaches their hearts and their minds. I heartfully hope this message reaches you and thank you for your consideration. Love, a humble member of your Filipino flock. Carlos Celdran. ‪#‎RHBill‬ ‪#‎Damaso‬ ‪#‎CatholicBishops‬ ‪#‎CBCP‬ ‪#‎RT‬

The statement itself is not entirely true, he is not "a step closer to being incarcerated for offending the religious feelings of Filipino bishops," he disrespected not only the bishops but a place of worship, an ongoing sacred religious ritual, he is so because of this:

Art. 133. Offending the religious feelings. – The penalty of arresto mayor in its
maximum period to prision correctional in its minimum period shall be imposed upon
anyone who, in a place devoted to religious worship or during the celebration of any
religious ceremony shall perform acts notoriously offensive to the feelings of the faithful.

He wished that the Pope's message of "forgiveness, reason... etc." will reach the hearts and minds of those offended by his actions. But, forgiveness without repentance? No, no, that's not right too.

I do not agree with the bishops', alright, the Catholic Church's position on the Reproductive Health Bill, and never will I. But no priest nor bishop dared enter my home at dinner time holding up placards while I explained what the Reproductive Health Bill is all about to my children. That would be just wrong. No, I don't find that comparison silly at all.

I don't agree too with the fatwa issued by Ayatollah Khomeini on Salman Rushdie, or the killing of innocent people by extremists in the name of jihad, but I am not about to barge into a mosque to mock, disrespect Islam in general or any Muslim I happen to chance upon.

I just can't agree with Celdran referring to himself as a "humble member of your Filipino flock." What's humble about barging in on an ongoing mass, wearing a costume holding up a placard with the word "Damaso" written on it?

I wrote this in that previous article I mentioned above:

"I also believe that Celdran should be released, not even be charged – it’s just wrong for him to be in jail while Romeo Jalosjos isn’t; while priests found to have committed pedophilia are merely suspended by the church or transferred to another diocese. The government has pardoned a plunderer, it cannot justify keeping someone like Celdran incarcerated. But…"

Yeah, but... yeah, it's easy to join the bandwagon and throw mud at the whole church for the acts of but a few, portray an image of being a firebrand, a revolutionary, yeah, wear that Che Guevara beret, but I will only applaud you until you cross that line. It's not only the bishops that Celdran offended - he offended the Church, a Church, a religious rite, a religion. That's just not right.

In an article in the Inquirer, Padre Damaso was described as "He was known to be... selfish, proud, cruel, judgmental, malicious-minded..."

Tell me, that afternoon in that church, who was Damaso?

Stop, look, listen, do something

Just when you think we have started to get used to the heavy traffic in certain parts of the city, here come the Christmas holidays and the hundreds of thousands of tourists that come with it.

Most of us would each have our own horror stories to tell, here’s one of mine: took my kids to their practice game at the Melvin Jones Football grounds and it took us almost two hours to get there from our home in Pacdal, usually a mere 10 to 15-minute drive. It’s a good thing that the World Health Organization didn’t do their research on air quality in our city at that time, we didn’t need a nifty measuring device to know that the air over Baguio had way beyond the usual allowable levels of poison.

The community was not happy about it, the internet was flooded with critiques on how the local government of Baguio failed to prepare for the anticipated influx of tourists (I must say though that there seemed to be not enough police visibility from the 24th to the 26th of December, I was really surprised not to see anyone directing traffic at the usual bottlenecks such as the Pacdal Circle, the intersections along Leonard Wood Rd. and Teachers’ Camp and Gen. Luna Rd., etc.). The rest of the tirades were directed at the tourists, not a few of whom can be seen disregarding traffic rules and basic road courtesy and decency, particularly going into counter-flows at already heavily congested single-lane streets a sight normally seen in the streets of Manila.

But in fairness to the local government, police and whoever else is responsible for traffic management in our city, even if they did anticipate, plan for and executed a scheme to ease the jam, Baguio was simply unprepared for that kind of volume of tourists. Heck, we’re still determining how to make our city livable for our own residents – you’ve heard it time and again, Baguio was designed for a population of only about 25,000.

Two things stand out for me: the need to spread out development initiatives to the neighboring towns, and a review of our public transportation system.

Let’s start with the first. Yes, the BLISTT concept (which involves Baguio, La Trinidad, Itogon, Sablan, Tuba and Tublay) must be implemented already. Take our area for example: we moved to Pacdal because it’s not as congested as other areas in Baguio, except during the tourist seasons. But look at one office (PhilHealth) and a couple of new restaurants can do: since these opened the area has been experiencing heavy traffic almost at all hours of the day. The city can hardly handle any more development initiatives that attract a certain volume of human and vehicular traffic.

If the BLISTT concept is not easily and immediately implementable because it involves several government entities to come together, and you know what happens when there are too many politicians involved in any initiative, then perhaps we can start right in our own backyard first. See, our tourism efforts seem to only benefit a few members of the community. You really didn’t hear hotel and restaurant owners (alright maybe a few of them did) complaining about the volume of people and cars in Baguio at that time, most of the complaints came from the majority who not only do not benefit from the influx of tourists but whose livelihood and normal lives, in fact, got adversely affected by it. People couldn’t get to work, or even just get out of the house for a day in the park. The purported economic benefits of tourism, which is what our officials would want us to focus on, do not trickle down to the man on the street, so to speak, so how can you expect them to just grin and bear it? If BLISTT is not ready, then Baguio should consider spreading out development initiatives outside the central business district and its immediate environs. Perhaps start and experiment with the annual Baguio Flower Festival or Panagbenga where almost everything happens in and around Session Road. Involve all 129 barangays, and not only through token initiatives such as the superficial sprucing up of pocket gardens here and there to get whatever award they give out for the barangay with the most painted rocks along their main road.

Secondly, our public transport system. We have been seeing the same faces since time immemorial running things in this sector, maybe it’s time we bring in new people with fresh and updated concepts. If we have a public transport system that’s affordable, convenient, safe and efficient, there’s no reason for motorists to bring their own cars. That way, we not only solve our traffic woes during the peak seasons but every single day. And no, Mayor, with all due respect, parking facilities, particularly ones that require desecrating a heritage site, are not the answer. That, in fact, has the exact opposite effect – we do not want to encourage more private vehicles to be brought into the central business district.

And we’re only talking about how to probably ease up the congestion in our roads – do you have any idea about the amount of garbage generated by those hundreds of thousands? How it depleted our most important resource: water?

We can’t have, must never accept, statements like “I cannot do anything” anymore. We need to and must do something.

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