Archive for December, 2005

Too exhausted to care

Friday, December 30th, 2005

Dead_tired  The most difficult thing about being mentally exhausted and physically wasted is that you’re too tired to think of ways how to snap out of it, much less get up to actually do something to rid yourself of ennui and recharge.

ArghIt’s a vicious cycle, really.

All day today I slumped like fungus covering a rock in the bottom of a stream and watched DVDs. One Pixar cartoon after the other, and then two psycho-suspense features that left me feeling like I’ve eaten too much candy: bloated but unnourished.

This blog is mainly what’s saving me from myself these days (this and my husband who tirelessly keeps making trips to the 24-hour convenience store next door to get me chocolate bars, vinegar chips and other junkfood even as he keeps railing against me for eating the stuff).

I. Am. Exhausted.

I suppose I had this coming. I really did. Stupid eating habits, erratic sleeping patterns and non-existent exercise on top of the stress of the day-to-day grind in the gargantuan alligator pit also know as the Philippine House of Representatives.

These days when I let my mind think of what lies ahead of me in 2006 — the routine schedule, hearing the stupid and infuriating arguments and explanations the so-called leaders of the country will be spouting in their various privileged speeches and statements to the media, I begin hyperventilating.

Like now. Better stop. I. MUST. NOT. PANIC!

New Year’s resolutions (just humor me here, okay? This is the secondary list)

1. Write two short stories

2. Eat vegetables

3. Sleep earlier

4.Do the laundry every week instead of every two weeks and having the dirty clothes pile up like unintentional sins in the hamper

5.Do not read while lying down

6. Do no eat in bed while reading lying down

7.Clean up bed immediately after eating while reading lying down and thus keep ants away from bed

8.Cut softdrink intake

9. Quit buying soup bowls (I collect the things, aaargh. They’re gathering dust and the only time I get to use some of them is when I’ve used the others and they’re getting covered by moss in some neglected corner of the kitchen sink. Which leads to Resolution No. 10…)

10. Wash dishes and cutlery and glasses immediately after meals instead of letting pile up  like unpayable gambling debts.

The thing about being married is this: your housekeeping habits somehow lapse and deteriorate because you’re always thinking the other person will do the chores you’ve been neglecting. This proves to be a fatal mistake because more often than not, this is also what the other is thinking.

——————

Havainas They’re selling fake Havainas in Quiapo. The real ones cost P950; you can get a pair of Havanas (which look and feel like the real thing) for P50. I’m thinking of getting myself at least three pairs and wearing them (a pair at a time, of course– not all six flip-flops, wiseguy) whenever I go to Ayala Center or Greenbelt 4 where there are Havainas stores, harharharhar! Knock-offs (and ukay) are the best. You can look as if you spent P10,000 when actually it’s more like P1000. It’s not really the brand or label you’re wearing, it’s actually how you wear your clothes and footwear. Nasa nagdadala yan, pare.Am an original member of the Kontra Copyright group. Pirates, ahoy!

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Llanera My husband tried to cook leche flan yesterday and ended up burning the plastic Lock And Lock container he so…foolishly…steamed the egg and milk mixture in. I was startled from sleep when he suddenly crept in and lay next to me in bed looking embarassed. 

"What’s the matter? What did you do this time?!", I asked him, mostly kidding.

"Nasunog ko yung leche flan. Mali estimate ko ng tubig. Natunaw yung plastic container…"

I have since brought him two aluminum pans for his future leche flan attempts.

———————–

Oust_the_bitch Is there anything to look foward to in 2006?
Nothing.

Under Macapagal-Arroyo, 2006 can only be another devastating year for the Filipino poor: more political killings, more lay-off by the thousands, higher taxes, higher prices of basic commodities and rates of electricity and water services, higher oil prices, more cutbacks on allocations for social services, increased public debts, more corruption, more OFWs coming home in boxes after being abused, maltreated and killed abroad, more kidnappings…

And the list goes on and on.

It’s really hard to write anything cheerful when it comes to my hopes for the New Year. For myself and the people I love and care most about, I hope for good health and less stress; but for this country?

(I wish I could be more like a Douglas Coupland narrator and be successful at puncturing a hole in a black canvas of experience and truly appreciate the small happinesses that happen: a newborn baby yawning, a flower gently opening at daybreak; a school of koi swimming in Olympic-winning formation in a Zen pond - but I’m not. People who really know me would lose no time calling me the original calling me the Munchkin Girl, and it’s not because I like the Wizard of Oz - it’s because I always see the hole and not the doughnut.)

Unless the Revolution wins in 2006, the darkness will remain, and the country’s economic and political record will continue to be in the red ( not to mention the human rights situation — blood red, that is). The next best thing, however, would be to have Macapagal-Arroyo kicked out. I will personally throw a freaking party complete with balloons, ice cream and cake if and when the witch is overthrown.

My husband and I have taken to having morbid discussions on how we want her out of Malacanang. The two ways that have topped are list are the following: via a swiftly debilitating and incurable illness; she gets caught in a major infrastuctural or natural disaster.

Do I take the crimes of this government personally?
You’re damn right I do.

 

Half of writing history is destroying the truth

Tuesday, December 27th, 2005

Serenity Joss Whedon, creator of such bubble-gum primetime tv horror series such as Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Butterfly and Angel recently made a sci-fi movie titled "Serenity." The blurbs and the promo stills made it seem like the film would be something like Buffy crossed with Star Trek. I didn’t get to see it in the theaters, but the other day I did on DVD.

The best thing that could be said about it is this: if George Lucas ever got it into his head to remake the original Star Wars trilogy, Serenity’s male lead Nathan Fillion should be in the shortlist for the actors who could play Han Solo.

The only thing I learned (yes, yes - I always try to learn something even from such brainless movies) from the film is the remark Fillion made as SS (starship) Serenity captain Malcom  Reynolds: "Half of writing down history is all about erasing the truth."

How true is that!

Sino-sino ba ang mga nagtatala ng kasaysayan ng bayang ito kundi silang mga nakapag-aral at may kapit o impluwensya sa mga kapangyarihan? They have the time, the resources and the clout to write books and essays and reports that will eventually be recognized as legitimized by the ideological state apparatuses as "the truth" and "history."

They’re the ones who choose who and what gets written about; who and what will be depicted in what kind of light, and how these same personalities and events will be celebrated or villified.

Horrid is what it is.

But then, I do recognize that the exploiting ruling class will always make sure that it also has its set of intellectuals and artists and historians who will note down and give various forms of tribute to its deeds; while at the same time throwing into shadow or burying under the rubble of neglect and forgetting the words and deeds of those who sought to oppose the ruling class.

How else could we explain the fact that the histories  of the Partido Komunista ng Pilipinas (PKP), the Hukbalahap, the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) and the New People’s Army (NPA) are never written about in the school books? They’re hadrly mentioned, and when they are, it’s always in passing and always in a negative light.

Whole decades of the country’s history, the history of a people and their relentless struggle for genuine freedom and democracy done away with.

Isusulat kaya sa kasaysayan ang mga kawalanghiyaan at kahayupan ng mga nagdaang pangulo? Ang daan-daang inosenteng sibilyan na pinatay ng mga berdugong militar? Ang gera sa Mindanao laban sa mamamayang Moro? Ang pandurugas sa mga eleksyon? Ang kurapsyon ng mga matataas na opisyales?

The dark days of the Marcos dictatorship have hardly been written about. I don’t remember my teachers in grade school or high school teaching me about Philippine presidents and the impact of their various programs on the country’s economy and politics. Swerte ko na lang I went to the University of the Philippines and the history teachers in whose classes I ended up were activists in their younger days: they told us to get the textbooks, read them, and then debate in class whether the ‘truths’ in the books were true or not.

Internationale Isang araw, isusulat din ang kasaysayan sa punto de bista ng mga inapi, pinagsasamantalahan, at mga nagsusulong ng digma laban sa mga kaaway ng mamamayan. Ang tagumpay ng laksa-laksang mamamayang lumalaban ang lalamnin ng mga aklat at babasahin, at hindi ang mga mukha at likha ng mga kurakot na presidente at mga tagapagtaguyod ng kontra-masang kultura, literatura at sining ng mga naghaharing uri.

There’s this true story about the young son of an activist couple that I keep repeating to my cousins (who have children of their own) during family gatherings.

Andres (let’s call him Andres, after Gat Andres, Ama ng Rebolusyong Pilipino), eight  years old, got into an argument with his second-grade teacher. He was in a regular class room with children of, well, regular adults (meaning non-activist, different the way  Muggles are from witches and wizards, harhar).

Apparently, the teacher was giving a lesson on national heroes, and when she told the class about two of the countries’ most important heroes, Andres raised a hand, stood up, and said " Sabi po ng nanay at tatay ko, traydor po si Aguinaldo. Binenta ang Pilipinas sa mga Amerikano, at pinapatay sa bundok si Ka Andres."

The teacher was telling her students about Jose Rizal and Emilio Aguinaldo. When Andres declared his stand re the latter, she tried to correct him, but the little boy was adamant. Not content with calling Aguinaldo a traitor and a killer, he also said that it was Bonifacio who should’ve been national hero if it weren’t for the Americans. "Di kasi naniniwala sa rebolusyon si Rizal, at ito ang gustong ipagaya ng mga Amerikano sa mga Pilipino nang sakupin ng US ang Pilipinas."

Whew. What a pretty long introduction to this entry!

This is the bill I drafted that I’m most proud of, and it has to do with the life of a man who has done and given so much for the Filipino people, the militant trade union movement, and the revolutionary struggle against foreign interference. It’s in my list of WANT TO DO THINGS to write a short story for kids about him, but I haven’t gotten around it (excuses, excuse — but heck, I’ll get around to doing this one day soon).

This is about the Ama ng Kilusang Paggawa sa Pilipinas, lider proletaryo at dakilang komunista, Crisanto ‘Ka Anto’ Evangelista.

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Ka_anto_1 On March 28, 1993, then president Fidel Ramos issued Executive Order No. 75 entitled "Creating the National Heroes Committee under the Office of the President. In compliance with this, the National Heroes Committee through its Technical Committee submitted its findings and recommendations after a series of meetings from June 1993 to November 1995 and made the following criteria for national heroes:

Heroes are those who have a concept of nation and thereafter aspire and struggle for the nation’s freedom;

Heroes are those who define and contribute to a system or life of freedom and order for a nation;

Heroes are those who contribute to the quality of life and destiny of a nation.

The technical committee was composed of Drs. Onofre D. Corpuz; Samuel K. Tan; Marcelino Foronda; Alfredo Lagmay; Bernardita R. Churchill; Serafin Quiason; Ambeth Ocampo, then known as Dom Ignacio Maria, Prof. Minerva Gonzales; and Mrs. Carmen Guerrero Nakpil.

Additional criteria for heroes were also drafted and adopted:

A hero is part of the people’s expression. But the process of a people’s internalization of a hero’s life and works takes time, with the youth forming a part of the internalization;

A hero thinks of the future, especially the future generations;

The choice of a hero involves not only the recounting of an episode or events in history, but of the entire process that made this particular person a hero.

These criteria have been more than satisfied in the case of Crisanto Evangelista, the recognized Father of Militant Filipino Unionism. His life and deeds were completely devoted to serving the Filipino worker and the people, as well as the cause of genuine national liberation and democracy.

Crisanto Evangelista was born on November 1, 1888 in the small, provincial town of Malhacan, Meycauayan, Bulacan. His father was an hacienda farmer and his mother was a housewife. Crisanto’s life was witness to two major social upheavals in Philippine history: the Philippine revolution against Spanish colonization, and the Filipino-American war.

He finished elementary schooling in Meycauyan, and continued his education in Manila. By taking on various part-time jobs, he managed to finance his education and finish the intermediate level. He was able to reach only the first year of the collegiate level, however, because of severe economic hardship and the death of his father.

Forced to drop out of school, he took a job in a printing press and because of unusual industry, he was immediately promoted to linotypist. His work consisted of putting together the printing materials and documents, and proofreading the final drafts prior to printing. The nature of his work and his own strong individual inclination towards learning became factors not only in his intellectual growth, but also in his development as a politically aware Filipino. He read the various political treatises, newsletters and other reading materials that he helped proofread and print; and these helped shape his views and then budding nationalist ideology.

In 1913, on the second year anniversary of the urban poor association Damayang Mahihirap, Crisanto, then 25 years old, recited a poem he had written "Ang Sigaw ng Dukha." In five stanzas, Crisanto raged against the government (Pamahalaan), the capitalist (Mamumuhunan) and the law (Lagdang batas) and called on the workers and other poor sectors to unite and fight against exploitation and bring about a new society based on genuine democracy and justice.

He also joined various labor organizations such as the Union Impresores de Filipinas (UIF), and the Congreso de Obrero de Filipinas (COF).

Crisanto provided strength and direction to the then developing trade union movement. Under his leadership, the UIF flourished. On March 1, 2918, the union came out with an investigation detailing the conditions in the printing office. It released a petition paper stating the workers’ demands, and called for a general strike of all printing workers. The strike was a massive success, as workers received 100-500% increase in wages. Crisanto’s name became known, and his reputation as a labor leader began to grow. He was firm in his conviction that unions should develop beyond being organizations of mutual aid; work beyond the issues of wages, work hours, health and working conditions; and take a leading role in the patriotic struggle for the country’s freedom.

In an effort to cool down the steadily growing fires of the militant labor movement, then President Manuel Luis Quezon appointed Crisanto to be part of the Philippine Independence Mission to the United States in 1919. This gave Crisanto the opportunity to establish contact with other labor leaders and unions in the US. He expressed criticism for the reactionary and racist tendencies and rulings of the American Federation of Labor (AFL) which was then headed by Samuel Gompers. He also gathered reading materials on socialism, and talked with socialist unions. All this also came at a time when the socialist revolution of 1918 had just succeeded under the proletarian leadership of V.I. Lenin. Marxism and revolutionary socialist theory spread like wildfire among workers of the world.

When he returned to the country, Crisanto immediately immersed in the practical struggles of Filipino workers.

In April 1919, the workers of Manila Electric and Railway Company (Meralco) sought the help of the COF in demanding the reinstatement of workers unjustly laid-off, and a wage increase. On May 22, 1919, they submitted a petition to Meralco manager James Rockwell; but Rockwell refused.

The following day, Meralco’s 600 workers staged a walk-out. They called on the public to boycott the Meralco-operated tranvias or trains and to support the strike. Sympathy strikes and rallies were held all over Manila – in market places, plaza, cockpits. Fiery debates erupted in the newspapers on the supposed abuses of Meralco and the situation faced by workers in the firm.

In the investigations conducted by the Bureau of Labor, the accusations against Meralco were substantiated and proven; but the BLR could not enforce any punishment. The management hardened its position, and ordered attacks against the strikers. Some 200 policemen were made to accompany scabs who were instructed to break the picketlines.

On May 20, 1919, the public was startled by news that a bomb had exploded in one of the Meralco-run tranvias. A civilian was killed, and many others were wounded. Evangelista was one of the leaders implicated and arrested. No evidence could be presented against him, however, and he was immediately released.

In 1920, Crisanto was voted president of the COF, while Jacinto Manahan was elected vice-president. Manahan was a peasant organizer, and his involvement in the COF signaled the beginning of the strong political alliance between workers and farmers. Evangelista then spoke of the ideals of fighting for ‘complete and immediate freedom; the establishment of a popular government; the end of the kasama-system, government confiscation of aciendas and the implementation of genuine agrarian reform.’

Crisanto also became known in the international workers movement. In 1924, he was invited to join in the delegation to the First Congress of the Oriental Transportation Workers in Canton, China which was called by the Pan-Pacific Trade Union Secretariat or PPTS. The PPTS served as the secretariat or the Far Eastern Bureau of the Communist International (Comintern) which was based in Hankow, China.

Crisanto also established ties with leaders of the following labor organizations with socialist leanings: the All China Labor Federation; Australian Council of Trade Unions; Trade Union Educational League of the USA; Indonesian Labor Federation; Confederation Generale du travail Unitaire France; Nippon Redokumai Hyogikai Titsu Domei; National Minority Movement of England; Korean Workers and Peasants Federation; and the All Russian Council of Trade Unions.

On November 30, 1925, on the birth anniversary of the Supremo of the Katipunan Gat Andres Bonifacio, Crisanto helped establish the Lapiang Manggagawa sa Pilipinas. In a manifesto that caused a stir, the new organization attacked American imperialism and its agents in the country. It lambasted local politicians and government leaders for betraying the historic struggle for national liberation which was began by the Katipunan and Bonifacio. The Lapian also exposed the partido Nacionalista and Democrata of self-serving interests, saying that the two parties were mostly interested not in pushing forward genuine reforms for the Filipino people and demanding freedom for the nation but in assisting the American colonialists run the country .

As leader of the COF, Crisanto drafted a plan to help strengthen the federation, and among his recommendations was that workers be armed with theoretical, class-based knowledge and tools of theoretical analysis. Upon his prodding, the COF also decided to publish its own newsletter – the Tinig ng Manggagawa (Voice of the worker). The COF also formalized its membership in the PPTUS.

Crisanto’s leadership in the COF made the COF gain a reputation for being the center of militant trade unionism in the country. The COF also formally established links with the Red International of Labor Unions (Profintern) and sent representatives including Crisanto to conferences in Shanghai, Moscow, Berlin and Belgium. The COF also joined the League Against Colonial Oppression in the Far East in its conference in China; and the League Against Imperialism which held its own conference in Belgium. Crisanto was very active in forging internationalist ties, and strengthened the theoretical foundations of the COF through continued study of socialist readings and documents.

By 1927, the COF had a membership of 81,000 ; and in 1928, it led massive strike of 8,000 workers in 14 tobacco factories in the country in protest of a labor leader who was unjustly imprisoned. That same year, the COF launched sympathy strikes with Chinese workers in sawmills, candle factories, shoes and steel mills.

Crisanto’s class fervour and patriotism reached a new height when he helped established the Partido Komunista ng Pilipinas in 1930. The new party was formed within the socialist and revolutionary alliance of workers and peasants and guided by Marxism-Leninism.

Crisanto was joined by other labor and peasant leaders and organizers, and intellectuals in launching the PKP on August 26, 1930 in Templo del Trabajo. The public launch was made in a rally in Tondo the same year on November 7, on the anniversary of Soviet revolution.

The PKP pushed forward a program of action which called for an end to US intervention in the country’s political and economic affairs. It sought the establishment of a genuine nationalist, patriotic and democratic system of government free from foreign intervention. It advocated the nationalization of enterprises, the confiscation of lands owned by big corporations and landowners, and the implementation of genuine, through-going land reform.

Because of the massive support the PKP received from the Filipino public, the government with the aid of the United States launched brutal attacks against the PKP leaders. There were arrests and killings, and Crisanto was among those arrested and then forced into exile in the Mountain Province until 1937 .

Crisanto’s exile and enforced physical disappearance from the day-to-day political struggles of the labor movement did not, however, cause a demoralization in the ranks of the workers; and in fact generate strong outrage in the labor and mass movement. There are documents stating that the number of economic and political struggles – rallies and strikes – grew greater in number during the period of Crisanto’s exile. This can also be directly attributed to Crisanto’s insistence that workers and unions be empowered with theoretical and ideological knowledge which helped enable them to gauge, plan, and launch concerted actions that shook the government to its very foundations. While in exile, meanwhile, Crisanto continued to write and make plans for the labor movement, and to study more socialist and communist writings.

In October 1937, Crisanto was allowed to return to Manila. He was accompanied by Hermenigildo Cruz in a visit to Pres. Quezon in Malacanang. Cruz made a plea on Crisanto’s behalf that Crisanto be allowed to go to Russia to seek medical attention for his worsening tuberculosis.

The labor movement warmly welcomed Crisanto’s return, and voted him in absentia as president of the combined Partido Komunista and the Partido Sosyalista which was then largely based in the provinces and whose mass membership was composed of farmers and rural poor.

Around that that time, the Partido Komunista had already released a manifesto, "Ang Mobilisasyon ng Pilipinas Laban sa Pananalakay ng Hapon," and called on all PKP members, other political parties and organizations and the entire Filipino people to unite against the impending attack of the Japanese imperial army.

By 1939, Crisanto had returned to health and immersed himself fully in the workers movement and the anti-fascist front composed of militant unions, peasant associations, and organizations of the peti-bourgeoisie and the national bourgeoisie. From December 7-10, 1941, the Komite Sentral (Central Committee) of the PKP declared its stand that it will launch an armed resistance against the Japanese invaders. On December 23, PKP leaders sought a dialogue with the government, urging it to unite with the PKP in fighting the Japanese army, but the government refused.

Crisanto was among those who were arrested, tortured and killed during the first days of the Japanese occupation.

Past and present Philippine history books fail to mention the heroism of Crisanto Evangelista, and his great contribution to the national struggle for genuine freedom, justice and democracy. No Philippine government has ever given tribute to him and his legacy which survives to this day as seen in the militant labor movement in the country which continues to gain in strength and number.

It is important that the Filipino people be made aware of Crisanto’s life and how he lived it in service of the oppressed sectors and in furtherance of the goals of national liberation. It is long overdue that Crisanto be given the recognition that he deserves.

Socialism There is a great need to rectify the neglect by proposing the declaration of Crisanto Evangelista as a national hero, and in the process, also give recognition and tribute to the Philippine militant labor movement and its historic role in the struggle for workers’ and people’s democratic rights, and in bringing about genuine freedom and national independence.#

postscript: asa pa na idedeklara ng kasalukuyang gobyerno, sa ilalim ng kasalukuyang sistema, ang mga tulad ni Ka Anto bilang bayani.

Pero isang araw…

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Sigaw ng Dukha ni Crisanto Evangelista

Ikaw na nasusunod sa atas ng iyong panginoon
Kayong yumuyukod at di nagkukuro sa habang panahon
Ako’y lumalasap ng pagkasiphayo at pagkaparaol,
Tayong lahat ngani, na binabagsakan ng pula’t linggatong
Tayo ang may likha,tayo ang may sala ng lahat ng iyon,
Pagkat kundi tayo napaali’y walang panginoon.

Kung tayo’y natutong lumikha ating ipinanandata,
Kung ikaw at ako’y natutong lumikha ng ating ipinanandata,
Kung ikaw at ako’y natutong tumutol at di tumalima.
Kung tayong mga hirap,tayong manggagawa’y natutong kumita
Ng punglong pangwasak ng kanyon at saka, mga dinamita,
Disin ay putol na ang pang-aalipin at ang panggagaga
Sa ating mahihirap, niyang pinagpala ng masamang mana.

Maniwala kayo kung sa panimula tayo’y magpipisan
Bumuo, itatag ang lakas ng bisig at ng karapatan.
Nagbango’t yumari ng isang Malaya at sariling bayan,
Niyong baying salat sa masamang nasa at sa kasakiman.
Maniwala kayong kahapon ma’t ngayon, bukas at kailanman
Tatanghalin tayong may lakas na tao, may puri’t dangal.

Maniwala kayo, mga piling kasamang, ang paghihikahos
Imbing pagkadusta at pagkaalipin nang lubos na lubos
At di gawa lamang ng mamumuhunang mga walang taros
Kundi api tayo, tayong sugatan ma’y di nagkaloob
Na gumawa baga ng pagsasanggalang nang wagas at taos
Upang mapaanyo ang lakas ng lahat sa ikakatubos.

Ngayon, mga kasama, tayo’y dumaraing sa lagay ng dusta
Tayo’y nadadagit sa malaking buwis na sa ati’y likha
Ng batas anilang kung kaya niyari, kung kaya nalagda
Ay sa kagalingan ng baying mahirap at nagdaralita
Hindi baga ito katutubong hangad sa bukto’t na gawa?
Kapag paggugol, pantay-pantay tayo! Mayaman ma’t dukha.

Tayo’y dumaraing, laging humihingi ng kandiling tapat.
Sa pamahalaan, sa Mamumuhunan, at sa lagdang batas
Ngunit masdan ninyo kapag dumarating ang pagpapahayag
Ng di kasiyahan natin sa pakana’t masamang palakad: Ang
mamumuhunan, ang pamahalaan at ang mga batas
Ang ating kalaban, ang sumasanla, nang ganap na ganap.

Ginigipit tayo ng nagtataasang halaga ng lahat,
Sinisikil tayo sa mababang pasahod at ng kasalungat
Tayo’y inaapi ng mamumuhunan sa gawa ng pilak
Binibiro tayo ng mga hukuman sa hatol na tuwad
At pati pa halos niyong lalong imbi tayo’y hinahamak
Ngunit hindi mandin tayo gumagawa ng mga pangwawasak.

Kung may damdamin ka’t dinaramdam mo ang lahat ng ito,
Kung may nababahid na kamunting dangal sa puso mo’t noo,
Kung ikaw’y simpanan ng magandang gawa, gawang makatao
Walang lingong-likod, kusa mong tunguhin nang taas ang ulo
Nang buka ang diddib, ang iyong kasama sa isang upisyo
At isumpa roong makikisama ka nang di naglilito

Isumpa mo roong magtataguyod ka ng ganap na layon
Mamahalin mo, ang Palatuntunan at ang iyong Unyon
Gagawa ng lalong matapat sa lahat ng ikakasulong
Hindi magtatamad sa mga pagdalo na higit sa lasong
Nananatay sa mithi, na likha ng sama’t pagniningas-kugon.
Saka pagkatapos na iyong magaganap ang ganang tungkuli’y

Makikita mo nang unti-unti naman ang lahat ng sakim,
Ang lahat ng sama na nakapagbigay ng dilang hilahil,
Pawang napapawing usok na masangsang sa himpapawirin
At sa kasunod niya’y "Ang Sigaw ng Dukha pagwawakas lagim!

Assessing Christmas 2005

Monday, December 26th, 2005

Christmas Day 2005 was all about

Garfield 1)Eating. The last two days have seen me and my husband (okay, so mostly it’s my husband) consuming everything edible in sight. Upon finding a Tupperware container of cold spaghetti within the recesses of the fridge, he unearths it and finishes off the contents - nevermind that just five minute before he’d just eaten a heavy breakfast of fried ham, rice and super chunky fruit salad.

                      "Naaawa aGarfield_eatingko sa spaghetti," is how he justifies the shocking display of katakawan.He sometimes remind of me of Garfield and his relationship with lasagna.

2) Baby-sitting. All afternoon today up to 8:30 pm, I took care of my Playingbaby niece Gabbie. The 11-month old rolly-polly bundle of unbearable cuteness refused to sleep a wink, and despite all our combined efforts to get her to take a nap– mine, my sister Majalla’s and my husband’s — she kept wriggling and gabbing and giggling all afternoon.

I sang to her, rocked her in her arms, threw her up in the air, played touch-toes-touch-fingers and Arab-in-a-tent with her , tickled her tummy, feet and armpits all in the vain attempt to exhaust her and get her to go beddy-bye.

Instead, by 4 pm, I was the one ready to keel over from exhaustion.

She simply refused to close her eyes. On her pudgy legs and dainty feet she insisted to roam around the house that already looked like it was hit by a Kansas tornado. She kept pointing at different objects — a candle, a picture frame, a glass paperweight, the toilet bowl cleaner, a bag of dogfood, a potato peel that escaped the trash can- and demanding that they be named for her in at least three languages: English, Filipino, and Goo-goospeak.

By the time my aunt, her Lola came back from watching a movie with my mom, I was ready to grab my own make-shift pacifier to stifle the cries that wanted to escape me.

Gabbie is one heck of a glorious baby, and she was never, not for a moment an annoyance,  BUT SHE IS SIMPLY TOO MUCH FOR ME. It was like taking care of ten puppies at the same time but exactly: saliva, gurgling, baby yelps and all;

Wpb 3) Rereading old horror fiction favorites with William Peter Blatty’s "The Exorcist" topping the list. It’s still the scariest but most meaningful horror novel for me. The horror isn’t so much because of all the descriptions of green, steaming vomit and church desecrations nor even how Regan MacNeil’s sweet 11-year old face was tarnsformed because of demonic possession.

What’s horrifying to me is how, well, faith is the real world is twisted and manipulated by the powers-that-be and used against the poor and exploited. I am always reminded of this whenever I read anything that even hints at faith and religion. Christmas is also a time for me to reflect on my beliefs regarding God and religion and faith and ideology, and most of the time I merely end up incensed and ranting against Catholicism and the ruling classes. I haven’t even gone to a single mass this Christmas — I simply cannot swallow any sermons that exhort me to forgive my enemies and those who seek to harm me (I’ve no personal enemies my self, but the enemies of the movement I am a part of are legion); 

4) Trying to get my mom to relax. My mother is worse than six exposed electricity wires: she is always sending off sparks. She simply refuses to sit down! You use a plate and a fork to eat cake, and as soon as the last dab of icing is eaten, she swoops down, takes the plate and fork and washes them in the sink. No sooner do you drink the last drop from your glass of Coke, there she is refilling the glass and urging you to eat ice cream.

From all the urging, my husband is now at least 5 kilos heavier since the 24th.

Mommy Mommy_penguin I love my mom very much, and I’ve long accepted that no matter how old I get and no matter what responsibilities I take on in the world, to her I will always be a little girl; 

5) Making a mental list of all the things I’m grateful for. Usually I do this (and on paper) on New Year’s Eve, but the list revealed itself to me earlier this year.

What are the things am most grateful for this year? In no particular order: new friends, newly-discovered skills,  my husband coming home, my puppy Funny, learning new things - about art and literature, propaganda and political warfare, pasta recipes. 

————-

postscript

Ang problema nga lang, pag labas ng pinto, maaalala mo na naman ang kalagayan ng lipunan- ang buhay ng ibang tao, ang kalagayan ng mayorya ng mga Pilipino na walang dahilan upang magdiwang (maliban na lang ang maliliit ngunit mahahalagang tagumpay ng pamilya sa trabaho, sa eskwela, sa pag-ibig…) dahil sa kahirapan at kawalan.

Sheesh. Hindi talaga kayang ipinid ang mga pinto at bintana. #

Putting one over Starbucks

Friday, December 23rd, 2005

Ban_starbucks Bwahahahar! We managed to put one over on Starbucks! We got one of those hardbound journal/planners it offers to customers who fill out a card with 21 stickers, with each sticker representing a drink — tea, coffee, juice or frappucinno.

After an entire month of waiting around various Starbucks branches in Katipunan, Tomas Morato, Timog, Malate, Araneta Center and Robinson’s Place, my husband and I surrendered the sticker card earlier tonight and got the journal. Nah, we didn’t spend over P2000 just to get it, but we did beg, wheedle, politely ask bona fide customers for their receipts and claimed their stickers to put in our card and voila! we got all 21 stickers and the journal.

All the stares and funny looks we got for scrounging under  tables and near the litter bins like a pair of hoboes are all worth it. I think the barristas and the security guards were secretly rooting for us because not once were we accosted as we siddled up to various customers:

"Miss, gagamitin nyo ba yang resibo? Pwede amin na lang?"

"Sir, could we have that receipt after you’ve claimed your drink?"
"Ma’am, akin na lang yang resibo nyo ha?"

"Excuse me miss, may kukunin lang ako sa ilalim ng mesa nyo, ha. Gagapang lang ako sandali dyan…"

My husband even went so far as to line up at the claim counter and peek at the receipts of waiting customers to determine if they ordered ‘reindeer-worthy’ drinks (the special Christmas drinks that merit reindeer-marked stickers and are thus more valuable) or only ’snowflake’ drinks (the usual concoctions the upper peti-borgeois and the spoiled rich can get all year-round like caramel frappucinos or ice tea).

We laughed like hyenas on the way home.

—————————

The_neverending_story_b The first book I made a most strong attachment to is Michael Ende’s "The Neverending Story." I first read it when I was nine and in fifth grade. I remember going to sleep with the book under my pillow, wishing so hard that when I woke up, I would be inside the story and I’d meet The Golden-Eyed Commander of Wishes, Falkor and Atreyu.

The_neverending_story I never really told anyone about this childhood strangeness of mine — of being so involved with books that I wanted to escape into them ala Madame Bovary. It wasn’t at all as if I was desperate to run away from home; it was more like, well, for the most part I didn’t have too many friends (underdeveloped social skills; plus the kids my age in the neighborhood played volleyball instead of reading. I got hit once in the face by a Mikasa, and I’ve sworn off volleyball or any other sport involving balls forever. This is something TS Garp and I have in common), and the books my parents gave me were always full of people who lives charming lives and always had the most interesting conversations.

I’m writing this because suddenly it’s Christmas, and it was in Christmas eve 1985 when I went to bed  dreaming of Fantastica, wishing I could visit Groggaman The Many Colored Death. I had already made up a list in my head about all the things I wanted to talk about — the nature of wishes; how stories are made and where they go after they’ve been told; whether stories have separate lives from those who made them up; and how was it that I often had the most Dali-worthy dreams like those of giant cherries being lifted onto coral promontories by hordes of flying goldfish wearing top hats.

I snuggled in my bed, under the covers hugging the book and I actually believed that the next time I opened my eyes I would be in Fantastica, and the Child-like Empress would tell me that all my questions would be answered, and my dearest wishes granted.

Instead, when I was woke up, it was already Christmas morning: my parents,sister and I slept right through Noche Buena. I felt my dad’s hand, gently brushing my hair away from my forehead. I heard my mother setting the table and exclaiming how well-behaved the cats were: they didn’t touch the roasted chicken left on top of the refrigerator. My sister — a mature 11-year old,  was already in the sala, her be-ribboned, origami-wrapped gifts for all us in a pile next to her on the sofa.

We ate chicken, fruit and salad then gave our presents to each other while the sun rays streamed  through the window and neighbors were yelling out "Meri Krismas!" to everyone else. My father tipped a finger-measure of champagne into my milk mug and laughed when I spat the bubbly water out: "iiiiiiick, ang asim naman nito!"

It was like being in Fantastica — surrounded by the people I loved most in the world, and feeling safe and secure in their affection. 

Merry Christmas everyone! Red_star Red_christmas

In the spirit of internationalism

Wednesday, December 21st, 2005

Swim Back in Hong Kong, protests are still being organized in support for the South Korean farmers who joined in the Siege of Wan Chai and are now detained by the HK police.

I’ve read a few blogs from so-called concerned citizens who are ‘outraged’ and ‘appalled’ by the ‘violence’ of the anti-WTO Sokor protestors. They say that (1) the South Koreans really should’ve been arrested; (2) the South Koreans planned on getting arrested to gain more media mileage; and (3) the protest actions did more harm than good and took the attention away from the discussions on the WTO.

What a truckload of crap.

These same freaking people say nothing about the violence being done to the poor and working people all over the world — hunger, homelessness, poverty, disease, etc etc- by governments who implement the WTO’s policies on trade, finance and agriculture. Is it really so surprising that people — they be South Koreans, Indians, Vietnamese, Canadians — would also show violence against the WTO and do everything they can to stop it?

I take my hat off to the Koreans for upping the standards on street protests — they showed true passion, creativity and undeniable militancy in all their demonstrations. There are some things I do not agree with in their conduct of their rallies (for instance, last Dec. 13, they failed to communicate their plans to rush at the police barricade to the other protest-contingents, and thus the program put together by the Hong Kong People’s Alliance or HKPA was shot to heck. But that’s something that could’ve been remedied easily, and I think that they, the South Koreans, have taken note of that failing.); but on the whole I  am in awe of them and their demonstrations.

(I don’t agree with having protestors immolate or stab themselves as expressions of their protest against injustice or inequality; but I will not criticize the Koreans if that is a form they see apt to show their anger and outrage. I can’t help but wish that they WOULDN"T resort to such means, though.)

It should also be said that the People’s Action Week (PAW) against the WTO did not only feature demonstrations and rallies. There were also fora and symposia on the poli-econ situation in the countries where the WTO and US imperialism crack their whips of slavery; there were cultural events like pocket concerts, poetry readings; and most important, people were talking to beat the band: making connections, building networks, coordinating actions all geared against exposing the WTO and the lies of globalization.

Post MC6, the challenge is to continue exposing and opposing the continued attempts of the WTO to bribe the resisting member-nations and make them settle for so-called development packages in exchange for their agreement to the new text.

Even the more pro-WTO country-governments have found reason to oppose the proposals in the MC6. Even they have seen that to acquiesce to the WTO is to sign the death certificates of their own economies,  the employment of their workers, their countries¡¦ food security, the basic social services and utilities. Even these governments now declare their resistance to the WTO, but the WTO will use all available resources to manufacture consensus, including giving key underdeveloped countries what they want in some areas of negotiation in  exchange for supposed "development packages." The WTO also continues to threaten underdevelopment countries, raising the bogey of a global economic crisis or imposing outright political pressure.

In the last 10 years of the  WTO’s existence, the poor and working people of the world battled it every step of the way. They  have not allowed it to wreak chaos and devastation in the lives and welfare of the world’s oppressed and exploited majority  without opposition. While it is true that the WTO is a powerful institution, it is only as powerful as the working people are weak. The WTO’s weakness lies also in the countries where it imposes, enforces its policies against the will of the people. By battling the WTO’s  policies and the collusion of our respective governments with the WTO and also with the IMF and the WTO, the people  attack the WTO at its weakest points, and strengthen the global  campaign to put an end to it once and for all.

———————

I didn’t get to buy anything electronic in Hong Kong.

For one thing, I didn’t have money; (But even if i had money, I probably wouldn’t have gotten anything still) and for another, I didn’t feel like lugging anything heavy, or worrying about anything crushing or breaking.

Wood I got a nifty Japanese kaleidoscope though; and for my husband I got those wooden Chinese puzzles that would drive impatient people like myself to the brink of homicide. My husband managed to take them apart and put them together in less than 10 minutes, though. He muttered all the while, talking to the interlocking pieces ("ikaw, dito kWoodena; ikaw, wag kang kakalas…") .

What I really wanted to get though, was one of those porcelain cats shop-owners put on their window display cases. I know they’re supposed to be lucky or bring luck to the shop; but mostly I like them because they remind me of my pet cats Mao and Mariah: they used to raise their paws in the air whenever they wanted to call our attention. Lucky_cat

Warmth, at last!

Tuesday, December 20th, 2005

Mittens At last, warmth!

Two days after leaving Hong Kong, my fingers and toes are still painfully tingling from the cold. I lost one of my mittens on the way to the MTR Wan Chai station where the Koreans were barricaded in by the HK police. Hennesy Road is a pretty long walk, and when I realized that one of my mittens had fallen out of my jacket pockets, I felt a measure of panic: holy jeez, my hands are gonna turn into flesh-popsicles then break off.

(I brought those mittens for $20 freaking dollars at the nightmarket, then it turns out that in the Jusco store two blocks from Victoria Park they sell them for $10! Aaaaaaaaargh!)

(At night, when I burrowed under my comforter, I had dreams of scarves, mittens, ski-caps and thermal longjohns   marching in duck formation. For the most part in Hong Kong, I was perpetually obsessed with keeping warm. I suffered like heck- and to think I was already wearing four layers of clothes!)

I learned lot from attending the anti-WTO protests in Hong Kong. I am all the more convinced that there is no other way forward but through persistent militancy, through united, concerted actions and a defined political and ideological line.  The enemies of the poor and working people of India, Indonesia, Malaysia, Korea, Vietnam belong to the same classes as the enemies of the poor and working people of the Philippines. The face of poverty and suffering never changes, and thus the solution to these problems is also the same.

Bayan I talked to quite  few members of the media in Hong Kong, and it was one of my tasks to inform them that attending the protests and the other activities of the People’s Action Week (PAW) was the chief negotiator of the National Democratic Front of the Philippines (NDFP) Luis Jalandoni.

"What’s the relationship between the NDF and the New People’s Army?"

"How’s the NPA fairing in its war against the government forces?"

"What’s the stand of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) on the WTO? Has the CPP sent representatives to the protests here?"

These were some of the introductory questions the media asked me even as I guided them towards the ILPS media tent were Ka Louie was sitting. The foreign press made these queries in a tone that they’d use when asking a clerk down at the Wellcome 24-hour grocery on Patterson St. where the Gillette blades were.

It was amazing to me how much more…mature and intellectual the questions of the foreign press were. I suppose it all has to do with the fact that these journalists travel all over the word all the time, and they’ve been exposed to so many concepts and ideas, and witnessed to so many political or cultural upheavls that armed revolution in a Southeast Asian country was a pretty banal thing to them. They read so many books and newspapers, and there’s no question they’re afraid to ask. Journalism to them is not a job, it’s a way of being, living and thinking. They like discussing politics and economics, and to mention armed struggle to them is perfectly ordinary.

They were, however, shocked to hear that the Philippine government under Macapagal-Arroyo ("Your quote-unquote president") is conducting a killing spree against political activists and human rights activists and that since January 2005, there have been 75 people killed so far.

"That’s barbaric."

"And she’s still president?!"

"It’s like Cambodia in the 80s…"

The most innocuous conversation I had was with a reporter from the UK’s "The Guardian." Right after talking about how different or similar rallies and demonstrations were in Korea and the Philippines, we talked about Helen Fielding and Nick Hornby and the weekender sections and book reviews of his paper. 

——-

Spy_girl I watched another Korean movie last night. It was a love-comedy titled "Spy Girl," and despite the implied cheesiness because of the  title, it turned out to be a movie about the longing of the Korean people for reunification.

A 21-year old spy from North Korea goes into SoKor to bring back a fellow spy who embezzled government funds. She meets and becomes friends with a happy-go lucky young man. Of course as in all teeny-bopper stories, they fall in love. The twist is that Spy Girl has to go back to NoKor because, as she says "We all have to do our part in realizing our dreams for reunification."

The movie was made in South Korea, but it was very sympathetic to the North. It made allusions to the differences between living on the respective sides of the border. On the South side, the youth live such consumerist-lifestyles, and they have no genuine focus or mission in life other than to land high-paying jobs. On the North side, well, the youth believe in serving the country and working towards reunifying the two Koreas. 

After the movie, my husband and I ended up crying (It wasn’t so much because the movie had a sad ending. I didn’t, at least not really. Spy girl went back to NoKor, and there’s the implied promise that like the two Koreas, she and the young man will be reunited one day soon), but because we were reminded yet again of how the United States and monopoly capitalism (that’s imperialism to you, activist readers) is the cause of so much pain and anguish in the world.

Us_terrorist Separating families, dividing nations, wreaking death and destruction everywhere in the name of profit. It pushed for the division of Korea and it continues to undermine all efforts for reunification and villfy North Korea which is a socialist state. The US imposes trade embargoes and wields its cultural and ideological weapons to villfy NoKor and make it appear to the rest of the world that NoKor is the land of crackpots because it continues to fight for socialism, and defy the US.

Oh well.

As I type this, my fingers still feel (and look) swollen like sausages.#

Picture stories

Saturday, December 17th, 2005

Mao Bk_and_ina Roommates

Koreanovellas and the rallies

Friday, December 16th, 2005

My arms hurt like heck. I carried one of the yellow banners of the ILPS in this morning’s march, and had to wave it around like a lunatic (albeit one with choreography and a sense of rythm, bwahaha) because today’s main prop gimmick was a flag dance. Red, yellow, blue, green  and white are the main colors of the ILPS and BAYAN-led organizations here. Oh, also lavender — the women hold that color somewhat sacred.

I don’t really mind much that my arms feel like they’re going to fall off. All the flag waving and marching and dancing (four basic movements from left to right, then front and back) made me warm, and for the first time since I got here, I was able to walk around without a sweater, mittens and ski-cap on - hurrah! It was also great that the sun showed up.

I can write reams and reams on the WTO, citing and lifting from the countless statements and position papers being distributed here by the various groups from all over the world critical or opposed to the WTO; but I won’t because, well, this blog would turn into an academic journal/protest website.

(Actually, this is already a protest blogspot…)

What I’ll do instead is right about how happy and honored I feel to be here, being one of the thousands of people from all walks of all life from various countries declaring loud and vehement opposition to the most infamous institution of global monopoly capitalism.

Simonsong Evenings, the comrades from Korea bring out their food (bean curd soup with sprouts and carrots; chao fan) and share it with us. The language difference is something of a problem as the Korean protestors can’t speak English very well, but we communicate with smiles and nods and handshakes, and the difficulty is overcome. We make waving motions, pointing gestures to say what we what to communicate, and somehow, everyone gets the message. They are farmers, workers and fisherfolk from Korea — big strapping Asians who brave the freezing waters of Causeway Bay, trying to swim towards the HK Convention Center where the MC6 is being held.

My_sassy_girl I watch Korean films and telenovellas all the time. I’m something Shin_yang of an addict. I love Korean comedies and love stories. I find them clever and amusing. The plots are intelligent, the conflict intriguing, the characters engaging, and the pacing swift. One of my all-time favorite actors  is Park Shin-Yang and Kim Jae-Yung. Back at home in Manila I play Korean songs, and though I don’t understand a single word in the lyrics, I sing along: the words are easy to pronounce, and I’ve clocked so many hours watching Koreanovellas that I can even imitate the accent somewhat.

Windstruck Based from these Koreanovellas, I’ve formed the impression of how funny, intelligent an artistic Koreans are.

Now, after seeing with my own eyes how Koreans rally and protest, I am in even greater awe and admiration of them. Their discipline is wondrous to behold.

I am most respectful of that trait- discipline. That ability of controlling your mind, your body, your feelings and your actions to such a degree that order and organization is created and maintained. There’s also an aesthetic sense to this order– the harmony of movement, the seeming singularity of thought united with action. The decisiveness of it all!

Down_wto  The Korean rallyists are very disciplined. Theirs is one of the most orderly protests I’ve ever seen, and one of the most militant. I won’t go into some of the problems that have erupted because of this self-same militancy and discipline (when these go against the coordinated actions and plans of other protestors, and even threaten the very safety and security of the rest of the demonstration), but instead focus on their qualities that are well-worth emulating and imitating. 

The Roommate Situation

Friday, December 16th, 2005

The Roommate situation: my version My roommates here in Hong Kong are all lunatics. The seriousness of their lunacy are in varying degrees. Am not going to write who’s the worst and who should be dragged off in a strait jacket – but if you know who they are, you can judge for yourself.

Bukaneg is obsessed with finding the best place to have breakfast. Or lunch. And dinner. Also the snacks in between. Because of him, we’re always looking for the best value for our money here, as we don’t have much money. He’s lucky because he’s so easy to please, gastronomic fulfillment wise. A true-blue gourmand, he, however, seems to finds no distinction between a HK$5 dollar bite of animal entrails and a HK$60 dollar per serving of, say, Peking duck. He’s the one who made us buy and eat the weird looking and not-normal tasting Dragon Fruit. Every 2 pm, he sends out reports to Ngayon Na, Bayan – pretending he’s outside in the streets mingling with the common folk when actually he’s just in Victoria Park, inside a relatively warm and toasty tent, hahahahaha! He has a picture of himself giving Chairman Mao a smack on the cheek.

Paulo (or Gian, to differentiate him from the other Paolo, whom we call Miguel or P2), is fussy with his hair. I’ve noticed that he spends about 15 minutes coming his hair every morning, making sure every strand is in place. He’s on the prowl for the best facial wash – one that will help him clear up his supposed pimple problem. I keep telling him to get Kao Biore, which is cheaper here, but he’s worried that if he gets a tube and it runs out, he won’t be able to replenish because it’s only sold in Rustan’s or something. (This, I think, is his one biggest personal worry in Hong Kong is how his face is faring from the cold. Hey Pao – you’re cute enough as you are; but just get a freaking bottle of Clearasil if you’re really worried!)

As for Ron, hmmm. What I can say about Ron? Ever cheerful, never complaining, often the butt of Bukaneg’s jokes and the target of his constant ribbing about tangled and complicated love lives. Ron blushes like a teenage girl, and it’s funny. He collects, for some reason, bottles. He has a bottle of some darkblue drink in his room right now, and we’re all betting that it’ll taste like Benadryl or Robitussin. Ron likes sultana biscuits, wears blue boxers to bed, and usually skips breakfast. He’s a mean machine with a camera, and his presentation on JMS’s speech is something to watch. Kodao’s main –man when it comes to the camera-work. ——————-

Pearl City Roommates (Raymund “Bukaneg” Villanueva’s version)

Look at the picture on the left. That’s me and Ina inside the oh-so-red media center tent in Hong Kong’s Victoria Park. Our tasks done for the meantime, we found a sliver of time to check our Friendster accounts and post our latest blogs. Ina and I have been planning to exchange blogs since a few months ago. But since we came to Hong Kong together and we are roommates at the moment, we decided to exchange blogs about our other roommates. (So check her blog as well.)

There are 12 of us in this small room in a building along Paterson Road. We used to be 13 but, like in Kuya’s house, one of us elected to leave voluntarily. He does not want to sleep on the floor with me snoring wildly nearby. Some people just do not know privilege when they see one.

But enough about losers. Malas lang naman din ang labintatlo.

I’ve known Ka Satur Ocampo for 15 years already. I’ve never seen his demeanor nor his hair ruffled even once. But I got to see how his usually slick hair looks like after he jumps out of bed in the morning. He is a regular Son Goku pala in the mornings. But I suspect S.O’s powers are greater than the anime hero. Ka Satur has eluded the police and military so many times in his underground career. Lalo na siguro ngayon since he now has more-salt-than-pepper mane.

Bayan’s Cynthia “Cha” Vargas, RN has the unenviable task of talking to the desk whenever we needed something, like comforters or pillows. She studied basic and advanced acupuncture and alternative medicine in Beijing so we all assumed she knows the most about communicating with the locals. Well, we were both wrong and right. We were wrong in the sense that she isn’t understood at all and we were right in the sense that she could pantomime through almost everything—from the cold weather, the need to have our rooms cleaned, to why the hell they are telling us that our rooms are good for five people when even my store room back home looks decidedly bigger.

Please do not pity us when I tell you we are bunked together with KMU’s Norma Binas and Tita Elisa Lubi of Kodao. Much that we would like an occasional pillow fight, can we possibly do that with them around?

Bayan Chair Dr. Carol P. Araullo, MD spent her birthday morning and night with us. What struck me as curious about her was when I arrived at the room one afternoon and found her working on her laptop on the claustrophobia-inducing hallway. She was sitting on a low chair while the laptop was propped on a stool. I guessed it was her way to squeeze out more creative juice for the paper she was preparing the other day. May ibinubulong kaya ang mga pader?

Here’s one for the books—I saw BM’s Grace Saguinsin wearing a pink skirt. Plus, her doggie bags are always worth the late nights we spend waiting for her to arrive.

When I was a new recruit years ago, I once rode with BM Rep. Teddy Casino on a crowded late night bus going back to Manila. I swear this guy could fall asleep standing up. Parang kabayo. The other night, he did it again. I thought he was writing something on his pad but he was already fast asleep. (Check out the pic!) But I think Teddy likes my feet several inches from his face when we sleep. He wakes up looking refreshed every time.

Gian Paolo Oliveros and Ron Papag are a study in contrasts. If we let Pao be, we would be hard pressed to see a space that isn’t occupied by a discarded article of clothing of his. Ron on the other hand is obsessively compulsive about making his space as tidy as possible. It his feminine side showing daw. But the only thing feminine I see about Ron these days is the owner of the Philippine cellphone number he surreptitiously calls in the dead of the night while he is buried under the sheets.

Lastly, there’s Ina who I’m gonna exchange this blog with (so I can’t say much about her). Except this: she does not flinch when we boys strip to our undershorts with her in the room. Married na kasi. #

————————

I’ve forgotten that it’s almost Christmas! This actually comes as a shock even to myself, considering that Christmas is my favorite time of the year. Not really so much because I’m eager for the gifts and loot I expect to get (well okay, so maybe am a little eager); but mostly because, well, I’ve always had the idea that during Christmas, people are less prone to being evil and they make more of an effort to be decent.

I know, I know – this is pretty naïve of me, but heck, it’s how I feel. It’s most unlikely that I’ll ever outgrow this unshakeable belief that people are essentially good. Even among the big businessmen and the landgrabbers and the other criminals like them, there’s a drop or two of genuine human kindness. But am not in the mood for making observations about the human condition and the ponder over whether Camus is right or not.

Being in Hong Kong, I’ll try to think the way ordinary Hong Kongese think on most ordinary days and be…consumerist. I’m not really into the craziness of shopping for clothes and shoes (but I do admit to being a sneaker person), so the pull of Hong Kong’s fashion district has no real effect on me.

The things that I like best among the stuff being sold here? Toys. (I have to make my conscience and political awareness tone down a bit if I’m going to be able to write this. Because otherwise I’ll end up writing about the conditions in the toy sweatshops here and in Mainland China – the way the fumes from the vats of melted rubber and plastic smell and enter the noses and lungs of the workers who are paid $1 a day for their pains. Or about how ironic it is that the workers in the toy factories – the makers of the Mattel toys like Barbies and Tonkas or even just those dime-store dollhouses, cooking sets, miniature pianos and xylophones, etc can’t even afford to get their own children things to play with because their wages are only enough for the most basic necessities – namely rice.)

In Manila, there are Toy Kingdom stores, but here and in Hong Kong and in the west, the toy mafia is the monopoly is headed by Toys ‘R’ Us. I’m not really into stuffed toys, but I do like train-sets, carpenter tools, and dolls. When I was younger (like two decades and 3 years younger, harhar), I had a doll I named Claudine. She wore a 50s French walking dress, and I loved her to distraction. My father gave her away when I was in school one afternoon, and I missed her so badly I couldn’t sleep properly for weeks –worrying about her and wondering whether her new owner would comb her (Claudine’s) hair, and sew her new dresses (I used to make doll clothes! Hand-stitched, of course. I could make corduroy pants and flowing skirts. ). Now that I’m supposed to be an adult, I still like dolls, but it’s not like I still collect them. I didn’t have too many friends growing up (as am reclusive by nature, but becoming an activist has helped me get out of my shell, and I don’t think about people the way I used to. I used to think other people suck. Nothing specific – I just didn’t like talking to other people, period. Too…exhausting, and often they demand too much), so I suppose I turned to those miniature artificial people for company and even conversation.#

Hong Kong Weather

Thursday, December 15th, 2005

There are so many things to
be said about being cold, and the body’s need to be warm.

 Time seems to stretch much
longer than usual when you’re freezing, and the body’s understanding of itself
and how it functions goes a little haywire: there’s an inbuilt mechanism in our
biology and physiology that fights off the drop in external temperature; but
the struggle is bitter and is never equal. The climate almost always wins, and
we can only try to add more artificial layers to our bodies to make sure that
they continue working and not break down from the disappearance of heat.

 Heat is such a luxury here.
If heat could be bottled, we would all be rushing to buy them. The sun is my
best friend here, and every time it disappears behinds the clouds, a kind of
depression sets in.

It is cold here in Hong Kong,
but early this morning I marched with the Philippine delegation of protestors
led by the ILPS and Bayan from Victoria Park down to the Wan Chai harbor front
– the closest that we could get to the HK Convention Center where the WTO
Conference is being held. I’m bundled in two shirts, a sweater and a jacket,
but I still couldn’t stop shivering. My lips are cracked, the skin on my palms
is peeling in ugly patches,   my face has turned blue and pink in turns –
like some fruit that couldn’t make its mind if it was ripe or nearly rotting;
and worst of all, I have dandruff. My scalp is a desert of dryness, all
moisture gone.

 It is freezing here in Hong
Kong, but there is a message that must be delivered at all cost, and to suffer
a little discomfort  is nothing compared
to the duty of speaking out to the public – to the people here in Hong Kong and
to rest of the world why the WTO must be opposed and why it must be defeated.
All of us are clad in various jackets and sweaters, but most don’t have
mittens. The cold cuts the air, and attacks our exposed hands and ears and
faces like so many tiny knives, and you wonder afterwards that there aren’t any
wounds where you felt the knives cut and slash.

Still we raise our fists and
march down the streets of this busy city and fight against the current of cold
air to generate heat that will enable us to speak out loudly against the WTO.

 Filipinos, Koreans,
Bangladeshi, Indians, Taiwanese, Canadians, Americans, people from various
countries and of different nationalities are here to denounce the WTO and the
horror imperialist globalization unleashes against the workers and farmers of
the world. Underneath the bulky layers of clothes, each one of us are afire
with  anger and outrage against how
unjust, immoral and inhumane the current set-up is in the world. Millions are
starving, dying of preventable diseases, being subjected to dehumanizing work
and living conditions, intellectually stunted and physically maimed by the
vicious corporate agenda of the WTO and the International Monetary Fund (IMF)
and the World Bank (WB).

 

This is a very humane and
human struggle. When we say ‘Junk WTO! Kong Yee Sai Mao! Da Do Mei Di!’ we mean
it. These are not empty words, or mere propaganda slogans. I believe in these
words I shout out in unison with thousands of other protestors here in

Hong Kong. People’s organizations have scrimped and saved
for almost a year to put together enough funds to send their representatives
here.

I want an end to the global
poverty. I want an end to war. I want the exploitation of the poor by the rich
and powerful to stop. I want food and jobs and health and shelter and education
for everyone. I want those who exploit, plunder and kill in the name of profit
to be pushed under the wheels of the downtown trams and crushed.

 

The
very idea makes me feel warmer. Harharhar!

There is neither order nor
organization in this entry. My brain is still swirling from the flood of
impressions it has been receiving for the last five days.

 

We have been conducting study
sessions here at the ILPS Pavillion – discussing the impact of imperialist
globalization of the lives of the working people. There are so many reasons to
be defiant and angry about, and everything comes out very stark and simple to
me: billions of people under the yoke of virtual slavery enforced by a few
thousands of greedy elite.

 

Last 14th, the
ILPS sponsored a forum on trade and war, and almost 300 people attended (quite
a feat, considering that the forum was held outdoors and the thermometer
stopped at 13 degrees).

 

Among the main speakers in
the forum exposing the role of globalization and the WTO in the fomenting
global strife and war were Dr. Jane Kelsey from New Zealand (“Historical
Overview of Imperialist Globalization”); Antonio Tujan Jr of the Asia Pacific
Research Network or APRN (“Imperialist Collaboration and Competition in
Exploiting Weaker Economies through the WTO”); Dr. Haluk Gerger from Turkey
(“Globalization and the New World Order”), Dr. Carol Pagaduan-Araullo, Bayan
chairperson and vice-president for external affairs of the ILPS (“The Military
Face of Globalization”); Manuel Perez
Iturbe, Charge d’Affaires of the Embassy of the Bolivarian Republic of
Venezuela in the Philippines (“US Agression and Provocation: The case of Venezuela”); and Luis Jalandoni, Head of the
Peace Negotiating Panel of the National Democratic Front of the Philippines or
NDFP (“Advancing the People’s Struggle Against Imperialism”). The opening
address was by Prof. Jose Maria Sison, chairperson of the ILPS, and the speech
was read by Coni Ledesma, a member of the NDFP Peace Panel, and international
spokesperson of the Makibaka, or the revolutionary women’s organization of the
NDF.

 

The evil triumvirate of the
WTO-IMF-WB and all other global
monopoly-capitalist organizations, share the common goal of ensuring the
continued domination of global capitalism — imperialism — over the people of
the world no matter what the human cost.

The stated intent of the WTO
is to maintain a "level playing field" for international trade. But
we have seen the true impact of globalization and we know the results: war,
crisis and famines. Inequality gives rise to political and inevitably military conflict.  Who would argue this — the predictable and
undeniable result of increased
globalization of the world is increased military intervention.

 According to the various
speakers in the anti-WTO lectures here, more than $780 billion goes to military spending in
the world while less than $6 billion is spent on basic education. Using the
excuses of  globalization, the U.S.
government, for instance,  backed by its
big businesses now claim the right to intervene and attack with their military
forces anywhere in the world, launching wars against the countries asserting
their sovereignty and economic independence like Iraq, Palestine, the Latin
American states, Cuba, etc. 

Clothed in silk
business suits, the monster that is globalization consumes human flesh to
accumulate wealth. In military khakis, globalization sometimes gives rise to
the wiping out of tens of thousands with arsenals of death.

 What’s the human element here?

How do you explain the characters and personal
motivations, the psychological make-up, heck—the moral composition of those who
see nothing wrong with the way their corporations and banks suck the life-blood of their workers, beat
the bodies of their farmers, and steal and then destroy the future of their children and
grandchildren?

 It can already be predicted
that the WTO’s MC6 will fail. For all the declarations of WTO officials led by
WTO president Paschal Lamy, there is no way to go around the truth that the
WTO’s agenda to break the world open to the abuses and injustices of liberalization will not succeed. The
strong show of force and unity of the peoples coming from various nations all
over the world against the MC6 proves how the WTO’s propaganda is no longer
working.

 The MC6 will inevitably fail
– there is no way that it can succeed given the strong resistance coming from
the same countries and peoples the WTO aim to further exploit and oppress. The
most meaningful pressure comes from outside the WTO, with hundreds of millions
of workers, peasants, women, youth, indigenous peoples, fisherfolk,
intellectuals, mass-based organizations and social movements worldwide coming
together in a broad anti-corporate, anti-imperialist front against the WTO’s globalization agenda
and the wars that countries like the US launch against nations who resist
globalization.#