Achieving Happiness

National Security adviser Norberto Gonzales (what the hell is with government officials whose surnames are ‘Gonzales?’) says that the police shouldn’t close the door on the possibility that the political opposition is behind the bombings all over the Metro.

I’m convinced that it’s Gonzales himself who leaked the story that Ka Satur in November last year arranged with a New People’s Army (NPA) unit to plant bombs in Mendiola.

The PNP better not start raiding the urban poor communities again and arresting Muslim Filipinos.

Who the heck has immediate access to bombs and weaponry?

It’s funny that PNP spokespersons at this day and age can still spout those corny lines "this is an act to discredit the police institution…’ Like that isn’t already obvious to everyone. And like there’s still anything left about the PNP to discredit…

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Yesterday was Philippine Tourism Day here in Hong Kong, and the office of the Tourism attache (Ms. Tess Mauricio, also another pleasant and likeable person) sponsored a tourism update forum and travel mart. Main invited speaker was DOT secretary Ace Durano.

So I went (the invitation promised dinner, harhar) and listened to everything Sec. Durano had to say.

He kept breaking off mid-sentence to say "I sound like I’m working for this so and so hotel/resort/casino" as he enumerated and elucidated upon the various new tourism offerings of the Philippines. The DOT has launched a series of tourism programs each packaged to appeal to specific target markets in different countries. For Hong Kong tourists, the DOT program is called Play Around. The DOT wants Hong Kong people to consider RP their own personal play ground (his words, not mine).

Contrary to what could be expected of me being so rabidly anti-government and all, I found myself paying attention to Durano. Politics and chaos and class struggle aside, holy heck, the Philippines IS a beautiful country, and it IS worth visiting.

Who wouldn’t want to go white water rafting, or snorkelling, or spelunking or just walking around places like Palawan, Vigan, Bohol, Davao and Cebu? I haven’t gone to any of these places as a tourist, always I’ve gone to the provinces as a staff of KMU, Bayan Muna or Anakpawis, and I never really had the time to see and enjoy the sights.

The DOT brochures and flyers, as well as the powerpoint presentation Durano used to entice members of the tourism industry here in Hong Kong to invest in the Philippines were all so very,well, enticing.  Made me feel like flying home, stuff a big packback and head up north to the Sagadas.

Mr. Durano has always seemed to me like a harmless kind of fellow. Even when he was in Congress, and nevermind that he’s an administration man. He  looked respectable, and sounded learned. Yesterday, hearing him pitch for casinos, spas and hotels made me feel more than a little sorry for him: imagine if he were an activist, particularly a national democrat!

After the presentation the members of the (travel) media were hauled off to a conference room for a ‘chitchat’ with the DOT secretary. When it was my turn to introduce myself, I said that I worked in congress before this and that Crispin Beltran was my boss. He looked a little taken aback, didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then, gently in his already melodious voice, said  to me, "No matter where one is in the world, it’s always better to work outside of politics…"

Inside my head I retorted, "Everything is political, and you cannot run away from your awareness of it. Unless you want it to run you over…"

So I sat there listening to the the the travel and tourism journalists field their questions and Mr. Durano answered all of them intelligently. He admitted the problems in the Philippines that affect tourism (criminality, political protests,etc) and was really candid about the limits imposed by the backwardness of the transport system, the unerdeveloped thoroughfares, but he also expressed hope that these limitations would soon enough be overcome. "With time, effort and consistency,"  he said.

(It was funny to me, but also sad, to hear him narrate the hotel amenities: airconditioning, broadband access and comfortable suites. Sheesh, Hong Kong residents have ALL these things in their own homes and they don’t have to leave Hong Kong at all to enjoy these. Sure they don’t live in suites because most flats are small and rather cramped, but one can’t complain about the beds and the beddings. They’re very particular about beds, mattresses and pillows here.)

(And isn’t it terrible also that most Filipinos will never, under the current system of government, be able to see, taste and enjoy every beautiful thing the Philippines has to offer? Mga dayuhan lang at iilang mayayaman ang nakakapag-scuba diving, hot air ballooning, white water rafting,  etc. etc)

Anyways, I left the briefing thinking, besides Mr. Durano in a another universe and existence being of valuable service to the people’s mass movement (kung kaya kolang talagang irecruit lahat ng mahuhusay na taong kilala at nakikilala ko at himukin na maging natdem), how curved his fingernails were.

Yawing! PDI published my essay (originally a blog I wrote last year) on Ka Raffy today.I wonder if Ka Raffy has read it. He’ll probably want to wring my neck, harhar!

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My officemates are crazy about my Flip Flap plant. Janette in particular wants to get two for herself. I’m thinking of getting one more. There is really something very comforting about seeing the Flip Flap gently move its two leaves up and down as if being stirred by a breeze. It’s quite..hypnotic.

Flip Flaps in Toy Kingdom cost around $80. In the toy stores in Wan Chai they’re only $50 (please just don’t convert the amount to pesos).  It’s the coolest toy for crazies who work long hours in front of the computer.

—

I am so envious of the people who were able to attend the big anti-Charter change rally last June 12 in Manila and Iloilo (and many othe places in the Philippines where there’s a chapter of the Bagong Alyansang Makabayan). I miss being part of big protests. It feels so good to be part of a massive whole, Filipinos uniting behind a common cause.

My first rally was way back in 1991. I was a college freshman in UP Diliman, and there were big demos calling for the dismantling of the US military bases in Central Luzon. I wasn’t politicized then, but I already had opinions. In my own basic understanding of sovereignty, I didn’t think that having military bases of a foreign power stay for 100 years on a supposedly independent country during peace time (or what passed for peace) was a sound thing.

Anyways, I ended up upsetting some of my blockmates/friends who were FOR retaining the US bases, saying that the US military were protecting Filipinos and keeping the country safe from outside threats.

They got into the UP-Philcoa jeep in front of the AS building and left.

As for me, silly freshman, angered and embarrassed at having argued with friends, walked to Quezon Hall (the admin building), sat on the steps among the student demonstrators, and listened. When they got up and started getting on jeeps that would form a motorcade towards the Senate building (then near Rizal Park), I went with them. I was on my own, I didn’ know anyone, but there was always someone willing to explain what was going on. I just sat there and listened.

I can still remember what I thought of protests and rallies when I was still an innocent apolitical bystander: I remember being respectful. I mean, heck, these people must be really determined in what they were fighting for/against, right? It’s so freaking hot to be running around Manila and Quezon City holding up those banners and streamers and for what? It must be important.  Also, even then, I would read the plackards they held up, or the leaflets they gave away to commuters and pedestrians, and I saw nothing wrong with what the messages: "Presyo ng langis, ibaba!" "Lupa hindi bala," "Sahod, itaas!"

And it all left me wondering, how strange and upsetting it was that these people were calling for such simple things,yet they had to hold rallies and risk being hurt by the police to get their message across.

————-

I’m trying to understand Greek philosophy better, and I do find that it complements principles of Marxism and Maoism when it comes to individuals remolding themselves — attempting to be better, evolvd human beings whose concerns who beyond the self and immediate needs, wants and ambitions.

Seneca gives counsel against personal disappointments. He teaches objectivity, the acceptance of circumstances, weighing them down and determining what can be alleviated, what cannot, and how to react when what we hope or want do not come to pass.

Conflict, he said, cannot be resolved by coming frustrated. We must recognize the boundaries of reality, the conditions that shape them, and thus act accordingly. Failure can be expected if one does not recognize objective conditions and temper ones’ self to be patient and fight sudden anger and frustration.

When he said this, he was referring to human failings and weaknesses. To me he might as well have been counselling how to react to social conflict and political developments.

Or how to deal with bratty bosses.

My ‘boss’ gives me a hard time. Whenever we argue over an article or its content, he says, "Well Ina, this is what I think. Remember me?"

And I go, "Sure, you’re the guy who gives me money."

Then he says, "Articles on money, people getting it, earning it, making it, they’re always interesting. You know, greed?"

And I answer, "Of course, that’s what you’re all about, right?"

Then he laughs. And I am apalled. Man, he actually thinks I’m just kidding. Some people are so clueless.

But then again, I will give this to David– he has given me so many pages to fill, the opportunity to write at length about pressing migrant issues and concerns, as well as developments in the Philippines. Maybe I shouldn’t be so stingy with my…respect. And I should learn to be less insane and serious when it comes to the articles we write (Chi and I, I mean),and be more detached. The paper is owned by a capitalist, and  this is something I have no control over: his values and ideas regarding journalism and reportage are different from mine, and I know I can be too pushy when it comes to asserting what I’ve learned and been trained to do when it comes to writing.

Re last night’s ordeal: The food was good. And that’s a lot coming from someone who’s idea of fine dining is pasta from Piadina, ice-cold Coke, and a Snickers bar. They served pansit, kaldereta, pan de sal with kesong puti, pritong lumpia and fruit slices (kiwi, watermelon, winter melon, mango). There was also halo-halo, but I didn’t have any.

I really have to do something about this horrible aversion to public shmoozing.  I mean, I practically grew up surrounded by politicians (Silverios in Northern Luzon have been in local politics for decades), and then I worked in Congress aka the Alligator Pit). Why is it that I can’t handle ordinary (meaning non-political) events where one only has to (1) dress nice; (2) smile and chat; (3) appear interested and pleasant?!

Hmm. Siguro kasi (1) I don’t dress nice; (2) I don’t know how to make chitchat and smile at strangers without it looking forced; and (3) I’m actually, honestly, at the core of me, shy.

It’s the Movement that has helped me get rid of my natural shyness. Because it’s not me I’m presenting, talking about, working for. I represent ideas and ideals shared by hundreds of thousands of others, so I can be,well, aggressive and even pushy if necessary.

Oo nga ano? Weird.

In any case, kagabi, I mostly wandered around the big ballroom on my own. Heck, I noticed I was the youngest there and I felt so awkward lugging my backpack around when everyone else (the women at least), had glittering pouchets and shiny satin purses.

I really should learn to give the middle-class people a chance. I know that not all of them are horrible.  My main problem is that I have such strong opinions about things that I might say the wrong thing even if the conversation is only about, say, flowers. My dad used to say I had Foot In Mouth disease.

I’ve noticed though, among Pinoy expats (those not working as domestic helpers– the professionals, I mean) the talk almost always goes to (1) what’s going on back home and (2) what we’ve been doing in Hong Kong.

Two topics that I don’t know how to small-talk about. Imagine me saying "The Philippines is doomed, I tell you, doomed! We’re run by a government of murderers and thieves!" or "I’ve been talking to our OFW kababayans who are domestic helpers and I’ve been wondering how come the professional Pinoys here are not doing much to help them." Kill the conversation dead.

The highlight of my evening was meeting writer/essayist/teacher Isabel Escoda. She said that the paper — my paper, he-he –was getting ‘better all the time. "

"So how do you like being in the centre of a capitalist-oriented country?" she asked. "It’s bearable," I said. "Easier to expose the evils of profiteering and the impact on the poor."

"Your boss is Chinese?"
"My boss is Filipino and he’s in jail. It’s Ka Bel."
"No, I mean, Hong Kong News is owned by a Chinese?"
"Chinese who grew up in America.  Nah, David’s not my boss."

She looked oddly at me, but thankfully she changed the topic and moved on to, how predictable among writers, books.

(Am currently reading the philosophies of Seneca and Epicurus. I’, finding it so true that Karl Marx really synthesized all that is best in Greek philosphy and made it serve the working class. Will blog more about this later. But as a for instance, Epicurus divided needs into three categories: of the desires, some are natural and necessary. Others are natural but unnecessary. Others are natural, but unnecessary. And there are desires that are neither natural nor necessary.

Necessary, he meant, to true happiness.

In his list, the following are natural and necessary

1.Friends

2. Freedom

3. Thought (about main sources of anxiety such as death, illness and poverty)

4.Food,shelter and clothes.

In the natural but unnecessary list are

1. Grand house

2.Private baths

3.Banquets

4. Servants

5.Fish, meat

Neither natural nor necessary are

1. Fame

2. Power.

Epicurus lobbied for hapiness, but contrary to have the current meaning of Epicureanism, Epicurus belived in simple living, and said that happiness came in having true and reliable friends; not being denied justice, and having time to ponder about what really matters in life and necessary to genuine happiness. To want fame and power was unnatural and unnecessary because gaining these caused pain and anxiety, and be constantly on the look-out to protect one’s fame and power also caused pain and anxiety — absolute roadblocks to happiness.)

postscript to the event: 1) I find Consul General Alejandrino Vicente a pleasant and likeable person, and ditto Labor Attache Nida Romulo. Nevermind the difference in political beliefs.

2) People seem to think that writers have answers to everything. I was asked by a woman (i forget her name. We were introduced,but I was distracted) why is it that artists have temperaments. She looked at me expectantly and I twinked. I made the semi-incoherent reply that artists are perpetually frustrated by their failure to depict what exists inside their heads and hearts and give them visual and physical form. I said it must feel like wanting to crack one’s own skull open to get at the ideas inside.

————

In Manolo’s blog, a reader commented on how come I quote Mao.

Some people quote lines from movies or songs (I do that sometimes, too), and some quote Heiddeger, Sartre or Peewee Herman, Groucho Marx or  Bart Simpson.

At the risk of yet again being labelled communist, a great communist (guess who) once said that Communists have no countries. Their loyalties are to classes (the workers and peasants mainly), in all countries. Class interests are all the same wherever one is in the world.

Here’s another Mao quote: "Communists must listen attentively to the views of people outside the Party and let them have their say. If what they say is right, we ought to welcome it, and we should learn from their strong points; if it is wrong, we should let them finish what they are saying and then patiently explain things to them.

(This is why I read Manolo’s blog. Harhar. Am kidding. Which reminds me another thing Mao wrote: "As for people who are politically backward, Communists should not slight or despise them, but should befriend them, unite with them, convince them and encourage them to go forward." So is this is why I read Manolo’s blog? Nah. Maybe. I like reading well-written things, for one thing; for another, I like knowing how other intelligent brains of a different make and measure work. Just so all of us strive to not be disagreeable even as we disagree.)

I don’t have to be Chinese to quote Mao. And my love of my country does not include loving the exploiters and oppressors among Filipinos. To be a good Filipino is to fight for the rights of other oppressed Filipinos.

This flower is for Manuel L. Quezon III. 

But whoever the hell Carlos Celdran is, he can go drop a ton of dictionaries and thesauri on his head. O sige na, mahusay ka nang mag-Ingles. Give the boy a banana and a lollipop for being so bright…

In the meantime, mga natdem, mag-aral pa tayo ng Ingles at baka hindi daw natin nauunawaan ang wikang dayuhan. Bukod pa dyan, paranoid pa tayo. After all, 600+ pa lang naman sa atin ang pinapatay, e. Pag umabot na sa 1,000  ang pinatay siguro oks na kay Carlos the lingguist and defender of a certain prose style na magreact tayo ng oh-ver. 

White symbolizes a truce.  The core of the flower, however, is red.

——————————-

In two hours I will be attending a cocktail reception sponsored by the Philippin Consulate here in Hong Kong. It will be held  the Granville & Nathan Rooms of the Conrad, Pacific Place.

Jeanet lent me a blazer.

I had to buy a blouse for this gathering.

And flats.

Gad. And to think wala namang dapat ipadiwang dahil hindi tutoong malaya ang Pilipinas o kahit kailanman ay lumaya ito.

Oh well. Who knows? The food might be good. I’ll just have to forget that it’s taxpayers’ money that paying for it. I’ll pile my plate with fruit salad and sneak off to some covered recess.

I’m not looking forward to this. I’m getting an upset stomach just thinking about going there and having to mingle people I don’t think I have anything in common with (and who probably hate/despise things I believe in).

Aaaaargh. Where’s a book on small talk when you are in dire need of one?!

I just have to survive this ordeal, and then go home to Lamma and listen to my second-hand ‘Morrissey, you are the quarry’ CD I bought last week from Flow. And U2’s Zooropa. And Sting. I’ll get through this and then go home and bury myself under the comforter and eat pretzels or something. Darnnit.

Honestly, I would much rather go to the dentist then attend these events. I’m such a chicken when it comes to these things.

Maybe I’ll pretend to be a student of Socrates following him around Athens and asking strangers about what they thought constituted ‘being good.’ Hopefully we will avoid the hemlock.

———–

What I really hate about this gathering is this: attending it will make me miss ‘Grey’s Anatomy.’

————–

Araw nga ba ng Kalayaan ang Hunyo 12?

Kahit matagal nang sine-celebrate ang araw na ito bilang Philippine Independence Day, iba ang sinasabi ng mga history books.

Panahon ni dating pangulong  Diosdado Macapagal noong 1960s isinabatas na kikilalanin ang June 12  bilang Araw ng Kalayaan mula sa dating July 4.

Gayunpaman, kailangang balik-tanawan ang kasaysayan para malaman kung historically-correct nga ba na sabihing lumalaya ang Pilipinas noong June 12.

Ang unang pangulo ng Republika ng Pilipinas, si Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo ang nagdeklara ng Hunyo 12 bilang Araw ng Kalayaan sa isang seremonya sa Kawit, Cavite noong 1898.

Ang deklarasyong ito ang nag-udyok sa pagtataguyod ng isang rebolusyunaryong gobyerno noong Hunyo 23, 1898. Bahagi nito ang pagsisikap na kilalanin ng lahat ng ibang bansa, kabilang na ng Espanya, ang Pilipinas bilang isang independent nation.

Noong  Sept. 29, 1898, ni-ratify o inaprubahan ng Malolos Congress ang deklarasyon ng Philippine independence. Nauwi naman ito sa approval ng  Malolos Constitution noong Nov. 29, 1898.

Pagsapit ng Jan. 21, 1899, inutos na ni Aguinaldo na palaganapin ang Philippine Constitution.

Sa kabila ng lahat ng ito, walang bansang kumilala sa bagong Republika ng Pilipinas sa ilalim ni Aguinaldo.

Sumiklab ang Philippine-American War pagkatapos lagdaan ang 1898 Treaty of Paris.

Kapalit ng salapi, napasa-ilalim ng Amerika ang Pilipinas,ang mamamayan nito, at ang mga likas na yaman ng bansa. Nagwakas ang unang Republika, at pinilit ang pinamalaking-bilang ng mga Pilipino at mga opisyales ng dating republika na sumumpa ng katapatan sa Amerika.

Pilipinas for sale for $20 million

Lingid sa kaalaman ng mga Pilipino at ng Republika ni Aguinaldo, nagsagawa ng treaty negotiations ang mga Spanish at  American representatives sa Paris. Nilagdaan nila ang Treaty of Paris noong December 10, 1898, at kabilang sa mga kundisyon sa isusuko  ng Espanya ang kanyang mga kolonya sa Amerika, kabilang na dito ang Guam, Puerto Rico, at Pilipinas.

Bilang kapalit, babayaran ng Amerika ang espanya ng US$20 milyon.

Matinding galit at pagtutol ang namuo sa dibdib ng maiming Pilipino.

Sa pahayagang  La Independencia (Independence) na pinatakbo ni General Antonio Luna,  kanyang sinabi na “Ang mga Pilipino ay hindi pwedeng bilhino ibenta na parang mga kabayo o bahay."

Lumalala ang  tensyon sa pagitan ng mga sundalong Amerikano at mga rebolusyunaryong Pilipino. Kumalat ang pagkakaisa na tutulan ang pananakop ng Amerika sa Kamaynilaan, Iloilo at Panay.

Bilang simbolo ng pagtutol sa bagong mangngolonya, tinayo ang Revolutionary Government of the Visayas sa Panay noong November 17, 1898.

Noong araw na dineklara ang Treaty of Paris, nanawagan ng digmaan sina Apolinario Mabini at Luna, at inamyendahan agad ang Konstitusyon upang bigyan ng dagdag na kapangyarihan si Aguinaldo sa panahon ng gera.

Naglabas naman si US President William McKinley ng proklamasyon noong December 21, 1898 – anim na buwan makalipas isilang ang unang republika ng Pilipinas – na pataakaran ng Amerika ang "benevolent assimilation". Deklarasyon na ito ng pananakop ng Pilipinas.

America’s ‘First Vietnam’

PAGSAPIT ng  1899, meron nang 75,000 US troops sa Pilipinas. Mayorya sa kanila ay mga mersenaryo, o mga bayaran na pumayag pumunta sa Pilipinas nang pangakuan ng gobyernong McKinley na bibigyan ng malaking bayad, lupa, at iba pang pabuya. Nang lumaon, umabot sa 126,000 ang bilang mga sundalong Kano.

Nung taong din yun, dineklara ng Amerika ang Pilipinas bilang ‘occupied territory.’

Pumutok na ang Philippine-American War  at umabot sa 14 na taon ang ‘pacification campaign.’

Ang Fil-Am war ang tinuturing na ‘First Vietnam’ ng US, kung saan walong milyong Pilipino sa siyam na milyong populasyon ang nadamay at naapektuhan ng  digmaan.

Iba-iba ang ulat kung gaano karaming Pilipino ang pinatay ng mga tropang Amerikano noong panahon ng American colonization. Ayon sa New York Times noong 1901, 600,000 na Pilipino ang pinaslang sa Luzon lang, kabilang dito ang mga babae, mga bata, at matatanda.

Seryosong sinimulan ang ‘pacification campaign’ noong 1901. Pinatupad ng US ang scorched-earth policy – panununog ng mga bahay at komunidad – sa  Luzon, Samar, Panay, gayundin sa ilang probinsya sa Mindanao.

Daan-daang libong sibilyan ang naging biktima ng gutom, panggagahasa, at sakit.

Sa Albay, 300,000 na Pilipino ang kinulong sa mga garrisons. Tuloy-tuloy ang mga masaker sa Mindanao, at sa mga concentration camp gaya ng  Bilibid Prison.1

Sa kanyang aklat na General Geography of the Philippine Islands in 1908, sinabi ni  Manuel Arellano Remondo na bumaba ang populasyon ng Pilipinas dahil sa digmaan mula 1895-1900.

Noong simula ng digmaan, nakapako sa siyam na milyon ang populasyon. Pagsapit ng 1908, walong milyon na lang ito.

Batay naman sa mga pinaka-recent na tala ng mga independent historians, umabot umano ang death toll noong Fil-Am war mula 1890-1913 sa  conservative na figure na  1.5 milyong casualties na Pilipino.

Marami na ring mga aklat at ulat na nilabas tungkol sa mga atrocities na ginawa ng mga sundalong Amerikano noong panahon ng pananakop. Ilan sa mga nag-ulat ay mga journalist na kasama sa Anti-Imperialist League gaya nina Mark Twain at Andrew Carnegie.

Nagkaroon din ng mga imbestigasyon sa US Congress, at dokumentado ang mga pag-amin ng mga sundalong Amerikano tungkol sa mga nakita nilat at ginawa ng kanilang mga kasamahan sa mga Pilipino. May mga litrato ng mga batang sinaksak ng bayoneta, mga bangkay na patong-patong, at mga babaeng ginahasa at ginawang sex slave ng mga sundalong Amerikano.

Masusuma ang malupit at madugong karanasan ng mga Pilipino sa ilalim ng pananakop ng Amerika sa mga sinabi ng dalawang heneral na namuno sa mga sundalo:

Ani  Gen. William R. Shafter noong 1900, “My plan would be to disarm the natives of the Philippine Islands, even if we have to kill half of them to do it.”

Ani  Gen. “Howlin’ Jake” Smith sa kanyang mga sundalo  noong 1901 nang kanilang ilunsad ang panununog sa  Samar,  “Kill and burn, kill and burn, the more you kill and the more you burn the more you please me…There’s no time to take prisoners.”   

Sinakop ng Amerika ang Pilipinas hanggang July 4, 1946. Sa araw na iyon, nagwakas ang kolonyal na gobyerno ng mga Amerikano, at naging isang sovereign nation na ang Pilipinas. Hanggang sa kasalukuyang panahon, hindi humihingi ng patawad ang gobyerno ng Amerika sa mga war crimes at genocide na kanilang ginawa.

Sundays  are very busy days for OFWs in Hong Kong.

Literally thousands come out to enjoy the one day every week marked as their holiday. They gather in groups of fives and tens in Chater Garden and Chater Road, or they put up temporary ‘camps’ the length of the IFC covered walk.

Some exchange stories, gossip and news about their families or things they read in the newspapers. Others play cards, read romance paperbacks, or put up make-shift beauty parlors where they treat each other by turns to manicures and pedicures.

In the meantime, while these OFWs enjoy their day off, there are still many others who continue back-breaking work even on Sundays. Their exertions, however, are not for their employers, but directly for their families back in the Philippines: they prepare and pack balikbayan boxes. Through the years, there have been socio-cultural studies exploring the attitudes of Filipinos toward the economic, cultural and personal significance of balikbayan boxes to the sender, the recipient, as well as to the host countries and the Philippines in general.

There are materials published in the countries where are many Filipinos, written by Filipino and non-Filipinos. They analyze the balikbayan box phenomenon in terms of what they imply for the Filipino way of life.

A good, eye-opening introduction to the balikbayan box phonemenon, however, is to actually see OFWS preparing them. Sunday, June 11 at the Surex door-to-door office in Central is like witnessing what goes on inside a beehive: OFWs are busy wrestling with boxes (there are four kinds: Budget, Econo, Regular and Mega) and yards of packing tape. The sound of packing tape being pulled out straight and straight is like screeching birds. OFWs literally sweat it off as they fold and pack and cushion what to them is very valuable merchandize.

It’s quite surprising how much can be made to fit into the boxes – some boxes even contain 3-feet tall stuffed toys, the components of an old-fashioned, industrial vacuum cleaner and polisher, and chandeliers. There are so many stories as there are balikbayan boxes. OFWs attach meaning and sentiment with every item, and every item also speaks of values both cultural and economic.

My friend, Surex manager Raymond Latorneau takes a personal interest in their OFW clients. He helps them pack the boxes, lift striped bags from the floor and onto the six-feet high totem poles of other striped bags; and as he does this, he speaks to them and learns of their individual life-stories. He talks with them about their work and their difficulties; but ever so often, he will hear stories that make him smile and think to himself, "What a beautiful person…"

One time, he said, he got to talking with an OFW client whom in turned out had a kidney problem. She had a sister who had needed a kidney operation, and in their family, it was she — the OFW Ray talked to — who volunteered to be the donor.

Business-wise, Ray tries to give their clients better service. "The best we can do for them is to provide them a place where they can sort out their packages,” he says. “It takes much effort and expense to put together a balikbayan box, and we try to make the process as easy as we can make it.”

Most door-to-door businesses don’t give the same benefit to their clients. It’s not uncommon to see OFWs frazzled and slightly manic as they pack their boxes in public places — under the footbridge connecting the IFC to WorldWide, in corners and alleys all over Central. Seeing them try to pack during inclement weather is somewhat painful: they try to keep their goods and the boxes themselves as dry as possible under umbrellas, garbage bags and shower curtains.

What I like about Surex is that they also offer its clients free storage space, and the limit for each striped bag is up to six months. The Surex warehouse is a stacked full, lined wall-to-wall with these bags and their various content that will eventually be put in the boxes, taped tightly like mummies, then shipped.

Ray showed me an entire row of striped bags whose owners did not come back, for one reason or another. "The OFW-owner may have been suddenly dismissed, she didn’t have enough money to come back for it and send it."

The warehouse is something out of a Tim Burton movie, or the Twilight Zone. A rusty army cot rests forlornly on top of one the steel cabinets, like Edward Scissorhands waiting to be awakened from an enchanment. A few feet from it is a four-feet tall Snoopy reclining on econo boxes.

Imagine paying $500 dollars for that.

As one watches fellow Filipinos pack their boxes, one can only imagine the reaction of the recipient. How will they react when they find among the bulky, swaddled bottles of shampoo, a bag of old squeaky toys, some of them with dog teeth marks? Or old house slippers or used underwear among the jars of coffee creamer and tubes of toothpaste? It is certain that these boxes will bring happiness, especially among the little ones. They won’t care that the doll house they received has cracks and its plastic pink walls discolored. As for the older ones, the teenagers, the older relatives who know what poverty is and what hand-outs are, will they be as happy, as enthusiastic, and as grateful as the senders hope?

There have been accounts that while not at all ungrateful, some college-going children of OFW families say that balikbayan boxes are symbolic of how the Philippines, a poor nation, has been transformed into a dumping ground for objects people no longer wants; as Filipinos a people eager for dole-outs because their government cannot provide them with what they need. Even as they love their parents for sending home the castaway materials, they cannot but see a measure of sadness in it.

This entry is originally an advertorial for Surex, and I emailed it to Raymond. He and I have discussed the balikbayan box phenomenon at length, and this is his side of it:

"I am not so sure that it is so unwelcomed even by the elders. Maybe in a middle class home or someone that has money, but I think the majority of these boxes are more than welcomed and bring joy to the majority of there recipients. The ones that go abroad are not the ones with money, they are the ones who need money, and those families I believe are truly joyful when they get these boxes.

Just hate to see a box linked to the strife of a nation. It is a box as much as I send a box home to my family. And often I think it is junk I am sending, but I know that some one likes something in it. BUT I like how and what you have written OK? "

Raymond is an optimist and I have the sneaking suspicion he likes rainbows.

– more later –

These are pictures taken by Kenneth Roland Guda and Ilang-Ilang Quijano, June 9, Mendiola

As a writer and journalist, I am so grateful to the Left for saving me from a possibility that once before existed, that of having ideas like those Manuel L. Quezon III has.

Pakiusap lang, walang halong sarcasm, lumabas sana kayo sa inyong mga comfort zones at mamuhay sa masa.  Alamin sana ninyo kung iyang mga pinalalandakan ninyong mga ideya ay gustong suportahan ng karaniwang Pilipino — nilang mga walang trabaho, walang lupa, walang edukasyon, mga pinagkakaitan ng tirahan, ng serbisyo sosyal, ng kabuhayan, ng buhay at kinabukasan.

Tapos saka tayo mag-usap. Isang taon lang. Mamuhay ka ng simple sa isang urban poor community, o kanayunan, kasama ng mga pesante. Mamuhay ka ng katulad nila. Makipag-usap ka sa kanila, kainin mo ang kanilang kinakain, inumin mo ang kanilang iniinom, at kilalanin mo ang kanilang mga pagkatao at suriin kung bakit ganoon ang kanilang dinaranas na kahirapan at kawalan.  Kaibiganin mo ang kanilang mga asawa at anak, pakinggan ang kanilang mga kwento at personal na kasaysayan, samahan sila sa pagbabalik-tanaw nila sa kanilang mga karanasan sa paggawaan, sa palengke, sa bukid, palaisdaan. Umapak ka sa lupa at putik na kanilang araw-araw na dinadaanan.

Kaya mo kaya? Let’s test your theories, your belief system. Live with the people whom the Macapagal-Arroyo government are targetting for extermination. Sumama ka sa mga katulad halimbawa ni Ka Daning Ramos, secretary-general ng Kilusang Magbubukid ng Pilipinas, na ngayon ay sinusundan-sundan ng militar at gusto nang patayin. O sige, kahit sinong lider magsasaka sa anumang probinsya sa Central Luzon, o sa Mindanao.

Alamin mo nga ang likaw ng bituka ng mga taong nasa hit-list ng gobyerno, silang mga tao na sinabi mong wala kang pakialam kung sila’y patayin.

—————

History is not something we wait to unfold. History is something we create and direct.

History is not something we merely look back on. It is something we learn  from.

Ito ang dahilan kung bakit agresibo ang pambansa demokratikong kilusan. Hindi hinihintay ang kasaysayan.

—————

Sana bawiin niya ang kanyang sinulat at humingi siya ng paumanhin. Marka na ng kabuuan ng kanyang pagkatao kung hindi niya maunawaan kung bakit napakasama ng kanyang sinulat, kung bakit ito malupit at hindi makatao. Higit pa sa sampal at insulto sa alaala ng mga pinaslang at ng kanilang mga iniwan; kundi pag-ayuda sa ginagawang pagpatay ng aswang na gobyerno.

Manolo, bawiin mo ang iyong sinulat.

——-

How strange is it that I’m finally addressing this person who used to refer to me as his ‘favorite communist blogger.’ I never emailed him about this, not even when friends would tell me that I should’ve said something ("Parang death threat yun, a…")

I’ve met MLQ III twice. The last time I saw him personally was when I was a guest panelist at this talk show he used to host at Channel 23 with Jessica Zafra and Teddy Boy Locsin. 

The first time was when I interviewed him and his friend Clinton Palanca and a few others for an article for the Sunday Inquirer Magazine on this literary magazine/ anthology that they had.

I went to the interview at the Shangri-la in Makati; but right before that iI had attended a KMU lightning rally in Malacanang to press for the scrapping of the wage rationalization law.   I went to the hotel looking dishevelled, wearing black Mojos, a frayed shirt and plain maong, but still ‘high’ from the successful LR.

Medyo naapektuhan lang ng mapansing mukha akong basahan katabi ng mga iinterbyuhin ko na mga naka-Lacoste. Shet.

Manolo (He said he was called Manolo,) was, I thought, the most sensible of all of them, and he was the one who spoke with deep sincerity about wanting to give books to impoverished schools in the provinces. I remember thinking  that unlike Clinton who seemed spoiled and a little bored, Manolo looked kindly, and he sounded like someone who wanted to do meaningful things.

This was way before he had his column in the Inquirer.

None of them knew that I was a tu-duh!- a national democrat working full-time for KMU and writing occasionally for SIM and other magazines for money. I just let them ramble on about their own dreams for developing Philippine literature, publishing their magazine, donating books, etc.

While I sat there with my steno pad and my pen that kept skipping, they all took out laptops and cellphones and other shiny metallic gadgets. While I wondered where I was going to get the money to make up for what I spent for cab fare from Intramuros to Makati, Clinton started saying something about how parking was such a hassle in Ateneo.

Then one of them - his name was JV, I think- suddenly piped up: "Gad, remember that bookstore in Paris?! Shakespeare’s something or the other?!" (Gusto ko ngang humirit ng "Gad, remember that tiangge in Quiapo?!" Pero linunok ko na lang). And  off they went reminiscing about trips abroad, and the gourmet dinners Clinton would cook for them.

They went on and on, and I thought that I would choke from the shock of two very different worlds colliding. Galing lang ako sa pagkilos ng mga manggagawa para igiit ang nakabubuhay na sahod, at muntik nang magkapaluan katapat ng mga pulis. Minadaling tanghalian namin nina Teddy, Ka Bel, Ka Manny, Ka Douglas at Ka Robert de latang tuna na donasyon pa ng unyon. Tapos pagkalipas ng 40 minutos, nasa 5-star hotel na ako, nakikipag-usap (o mas nakikinig) sa mga anak ng mga naghaharing uri at pinakikinggan kung ano ang mga luho nila.

I don’t suppose he remembers me or how I look like; but I remember him, and it was a good first impression he made. Dahil sa ingay at kulit ng daldalang iyon, pana-panahong sasabat siya at magsasabing "We really intend to get the Ayala Foundation to give book donations to poor schools. It’s just terrible the way so many children are denied an education. We could even come with literary fundraisers…"

Ngayon, halos isang dekada na ring nakakaraan, kolumnista siya at nagsasabing wala siyang pakialam sa mga aktibistang pinapatay. Ang mundo nga naman.

Manolo, paki-bawi ang iyong sinulat. Kahit man lang alang-alang sa mga bata sa probinsya na minsa’y ginusto mong tulungan. May mga magulang kasi sila, at malamang mga manggagawa at magsasaka, at sila ang mga pangunahing pinupuntirya ng pamahalaan.

9 AM today — Bayan Muna member in Sorsogon "gunned down by two motorcycle-riding assassins"

5 PM yesterday - A tribal leader and officer of the Cordillera People’s Alliance was shot dead "by people wearing bonnets on board a van”

1 teacher - the "principal of the Quezon National High School in Quezon town in
                Isabela, was also killed after she was hit by stray bullets"
——————————————————————————

Tell me whom you believe in and I will tell you what kind of person you are.

Tell me whom it is you dream for, and I will tell you how your dreams shape you.

Tell me what it is you write about, read about, and what it is that you do with everything you’re written and read and I will tell you, with harshness or with barely-contained gladness whether you are friend, foe, or someone I find no point in knowing.

Can you even begin getting it into your head that everything you write-  made public -is a testament to what you are,what you stand for, and whether you should be called enemy or ally in this war. Can you even comprehend the concept of war, or do you take shelter behind that burgis upbringing of yours; behind  your illusions that there is no war, only social differences that can be settled with ‘civilized debate’ and ‘democratic consultation’?

Illusions that make it possible for you to (1) rant away at those who choose to face reality squarely and fight with mind, heart and body against those who oppress and kill; (2) feign being liberal and maybe even progressive and then afterward retire to your comfortable room after a whole day writing and attending meetings, briefings, fora and symposia organized by people who do not know how it is to work on hands and knees, to bleed and sweat and to sometimes fall ill with physical exhaustion all in exchange for paltry wages or a week’s worth of grain?

You and your language.

You and your words.

You and your brutal inhumanity to say that no one cares that activists are being killed. Would that you would know RIGHT NOW how it is to lose a friend, a loved one to an assasin’s bullet. To know that those you loved only sought to speak out against the government’s corruption and complete antipathy to everything that stands for the welfare of the poor majority, and they were silenced, their lives bleeding away on cold pavement.

You sicken me, you and others like you whose morality is confined with the walls erected by how you practice your religion, your fears for self, and your desperation to keep a comfortable and guilt-free life.

What we have learned: the reformists and apologists.

What we have learned: from them who are so far-removed from the people and their poverty.

What we have learned: The rich and so-called educated.

Kung ikaw ay pana-panahong bumibisita lang sa kanila na matagal nang inaapi at pinagsasamantalahan, gagahibla ang karapatan mong magsalita tungkol sa kanila at magtakda kung ano ang tingin mong tama para sa kanila.

Ikaw na kumportable dyan sa kinauupuan mo sa iyong opisina/kwarto o saan mang impyerno ka tumatambay, ito nga ang paka-isipin mo: ang mga pinapatay na aktibista ngayon ay mga manggagawa, magsasaka, at karaniwang tao na nagpasyang gumawa ng pambihira: ang lumaban at magtanggol sa sarili, kapwa at bayan.

Hindi ko masimulang pigilan ang galit at gimbal sa iyong mga sinulat kamakailan. Anong klase kang tao?!

Sa mayabang mo kasing utak (at sa utak na rin ng mga katulad mong mag-isip at mag-rason), pag sinabing Kaliwa ang iniisip mo agad sina Jose Maria Sison, Luis Jalandoni, Fidel Agacaoili. Engot. Kung hindi ka ba naman bobo at kalahati,mga lider lang ang iniisip mo, pero ang masang kasapian, alam mo ba kung sino-sino sila, at kung saang hanay at saray ng lipunang punit-punit sila nagmula?

Mag-isip ka nga. Sino ba talaga ang pinapatay? SINO? KILALA MO BA SILA AT ANO ANG KANILANG MGA NAGING BUHAY? Problema sa iyo, sarado na yang utak mo. Akala mo, alam mo na ang lahat ng dapat malaman. Sandamakmak ngang libro ang iyong nabasa, pero meron ka bang natutunan?

————————

Am trying to calm down. My husband’s take on this entire issue: "Ganyan talaga sila. Kasi hanggang dyan lang ang abot ng kanilang pag-unawa at pagkatao."

I bet when they look at natdems and genuine progressives and revolutionaries, they see monsters (I’ve heard all the accusations: rigid, robotic, brainwashed, etc etc etc).

Well, when I think of them, this is what I see: jellyfish, spineless whiners.

Kanya-kanya na ito!!! Kampihan na!!!

——————

"God created Arrakis to train the faithful." Gad, that’s such a cool line. Wala lang.

It really gets me to wondering: when some social commentators say that many Filipinos don’t care that Leftists are being killed, do they ever wonder if anyone cares about what they — the social commentators themselves — say or think?  E these so called pundits and liberals are speaking mostly for themselves and people like themselves (same class background, similar religious and cultural biases, same upbringing, and therefore same fears and self-serving hopes).

So they don’t care that Leftists are being killed, eh?

E di wag. What do they know about what’s really going on in the Philippines and the situation faced by most Filipinos, the workers, the farmers, the urban poor, the so-called dregs of society? These social commentators will be remembered only by people like themselves; and their lives, deeds and writing will have touched or affected the values and beliefs of no one. Their deaths will not mean much either, sa mga kadugo at kaibigan lang nila magkakaroon ng bigat; pero sa malawak na masa at sa mamamayan, wala lang. Obituary sa Inquirer, ilang papuri sa dyaryo na sinulat ng mga katulad din nilang mga manunulat at umano’y ’social analysts’ tapos wala na. Nilibing na sila kasama at walang alaalang makabuluhan na iiwan. Walang mga aral na makukuha mula sa kanilang naging buhay, at walang markang iiwan sa kasaysayan ng paglaban at pagpupunyagi ng bayan para lumaya.

So there. When they die, that’s the end. The chances of them continuing to  live in the collective memory of the Filipino people are very slim.

Iba naman kasi talaga ang kasaysayan nila. Kasaysayan ng mga burgis at tinaguriang ‘edukado’ ng lipunan. Kung suriin nila ang lipunan at ang mga kaganapan dito ay palaging sa punto de bista ng mga elitista na nagkukunwaring (o sige, kahit papaano may sinseridad, pero may limitasyon ang abot ng kahandaang tumulong at maglingkod) may nagdurugong puso para sa masa at pagmamahal sa bayan. Ano ba talaga ang alam nila tungkol sa aktwal na karanasan ng masa sa labas ng mga nakasulat sa mga pahayagan at mga survey ng kagutuman at kahirapan?

Nakakapikon talaga. Dito sa Hong Kong, napapaligiran ako ng karangyaan. Para sa akin na lumaki at namulat sa isang bansa kung saan kinakain ang tira-tira na kinalkal pa sa mga ilalim ng basurahan; kung saan namamatay ang mga sanggol sa simpleng sipon at tigdas; kung saan 70 na estudyante ang nagsisiksikan sa mga pampubikong eskwelahan; at kung saan 20% ng mamamayan ang pwersadong magpa-alipin sa ibang bayan bilang mga katulong, napaka-yaman na ng Hong Kong.

Kada anim na buwan, kayang magpapalit ng tv/sound system/microwave oven/refrigerator ang mga residente. Mabilis din silang magsawa sa mga models ng cel phone,at kung mapag-tripan, hala, punta agad sila sa Fortress o sa PCCW para bumili ng bago, ng mas hi-tech. Puro ang katas ng prutas na iinom nila, hindi galing sa pulbos. Walang matigas na sabong pampaligo dito; ang gamit nila bodywash.

Pero iba ang buhay dito ng mayorya ng mga Pilipinong narito.

Ang ito ang buhay na araw-araw na nakikita ko, bagamat hindi mismo nararanasan.

Yung mga aktibista  dito sa Hong Kong, higit 20 na taon na silang tuloy-tuloy na tumutulong sa mga OFW dito, at naggigiit para sa kanilang mga karapatan, nagtatanggol sa kanilang kagalingan. Mga DH din sila, ang mga aktibistang ito.

Taga-tala sila ng mga karanasan ng mga DH, ng mga ate, nanay, dalagang pinsan, lola at tiya na nagpunta dito para takasan ang kahirapan ng Pilipinas.

Kada tatlo,dalawang buwan magpapadala ang mga DH na OFW ng mga balikbayan box na may lamang sirang plantsa, maydeperensyang coffee maker, mga pinaglumaang kurtina (pawang mga bigay ng amo, o napulot sa basurahan) ; buy-two, take one na mga matabang tube ng toothpaste; rubber shoes (na kung tawagin dito ay ‘trainers’) ; 3 for $50 na mga blouse o t-shirt mula sa U-right, Giordano, Baleno o Hang Ten; at kung ano-anong abubot na binili sa Mong Kok.

Kada araw naman, may papasok na ulat ng DH na sinasaktan, dinuraan, kinalmot, binastos, minura, ginutom, pinakain ng panis, plinantsa, o pinalayas ng amo dahil nalamang may kanser pagkatapos ng anim na taon nang masipag at matiyagang pamamasukan. 

Sa Pilipinas naman, mahal na pansamantalang iniwang bayan, buhay din ng masa ang maingat na nilalarawan. Nilalarawan sa layuning manghikayat sa mga may pagpapahalaga sa buhay at bayan, sa kapwa at sa kinabukasan na tumindig at humadlang sa lahat ng pagpapahirap at pagsasamantala ng mga matagal nang naghahari-harian.

Para sa kanila ang aming mga sinusulat. Para sa kanila ang pinaka-maayos, malinis, mahusay na kataga at salitang kayang itakda sa bawat parapo, artikulo at pahina. Hindi gaya ng mga salita ninyo,kayong mga nakakakilala kung sino kayo at ano talaga ang paniniwalang inyong kinatawan. Iba ang mga pangarap ninyo para sa bayan, para sa mamamayan,kaya iba rin kayo kung magsulat, magparinig at magparatang. Inyo na ang inyong mga salita at, sabi nga ng mga paslit sa Pandacan kung saan ako lumaki, ISAKSAK NINYO SA BAGA NINYO.

Isaksak nyo sa baga nyo yang mga ideya ninyo at ng mga katulad ninyo na matagal nang laganap sa lipunan per walang nagawang pagbabago para sa masa. Isaksak ninyo sa baga ninyo iyang pagsusuri ninyo na walang kwenta puro kwento at palasuko at paikot-ikot at walang silbi sa digmaan para mabuhay nang marangal at maayos.

Walang pakialam ang mayorya ng mamamayan na pinapatay ang mga aktibista? Sabihin ninyo iyan sa mga kapamilya, kamag-anak, kaibigan at mga kasama ng mga pinaslang.  Kung ang mga palamunin ng bayan na mga katulad ba ninyo e tumutulong para palaganapin ang mga balita tungkol sa pagdanak ng dugo ng mga inosente — kaysa umungot-ungot dyan sa tabi-tabi at sa mga column at blog ninyo — e di mas malakas ang kampanya para sa katarungan. Tumutulong ba kayo na ilantad ang mga pamamaslang na ito ng militar? Hinde. Mahigpit ba kayong naninindigan, kumikilos at gumagawa ng kongkretong hakbang para igiit na panagutin ang militar at ang gobyernong Arroyo sa pagpatay nila sa mga aktibista, progresibo at masa? Hinde. E wala naman pala, e.

Mas masahol pa kayo sa walang pakialam: payag kayo sa ginagawang pamamaslang. Ang tutoo, many Filipinos don’t know about the killings as they don’t get to read the Inquirer, watch the news in detail, (or most media don’t release stories about the killings and give these stories the full attention and prominence they deserve). Kagaguhan ang sabihing Filipinos don’t care that other Filipinos are being killed. If they knew, they would care. (Ganyan kasi kababa ang tingin ninyo sa kapwa ninyo Pilipino. Sinukuan na ninyo ang kakayanan nilang makialam sa mga kaganapan sa lipunan!)

O sige,walang kayong pakialam kung patayin ang mga Leftist. Sana kaya ko ring sabihin na pag kayo ang pinatay ng gobyerno e dehins magke-care ang mga Leftist. Kaso meron,e . Yung mga tulad ninyong manunulat na walang ginawa kundi pintasan ang Kaliwa at sisihin sa mga naging kahinaan at kamalian noong panahon ng lihis (kahit ilang beses nang nagpaliwanag, humingi ng patawad!), kung karapatan ninyo ang niyurakan, kung pinatay kayo ng gobyerno tulad ng ginagawa sa masa at sa mga aktibista, titindig pa rin para sa mga tulad ninyo ang Kaliwa, may pakialam pa rin sa inyo ang Kaliwa.

Pero ako wala!

(Biro lang… Pero peste pa rin kayo, period.)

I’ve given up trying to clear my work station. It’s impossible to keep it neat and tidy. Everytime my publisher walks past, I notice him look at my cubicle in alarm and with warriness, as if he saw a baby boa constrictor uncoiling itself on top of my monitor.

Among the debris that that can be found on my desk/work station:

1. Books including Nietzsche’s ‘Human, All too Human’ and Mao’s Quotations;

2. A map of Tolkien’s ‘Middle Earth’;

3. An artist’s wooden model;

4. Pictures of my hubby;

5. A Hello Kitty doll which, if you press its tummy,sings an originally French lullaby in Chinese;

6. Three kumiki (Japanese wood puzzles);

7. A canister of Jelly Beans;

8.A Foxtrot desk calendar;

9. Gasket’s one-foot Chop Shop toy from the movie ‘Robots’;

10. Three Lego minifigs in racing cars;

11. A Charlie Chaplin drinking glass; and

12. A miniature lightbulb.

Taped or tacked on the walls of my cubicle are:

1. An announcement of the July 13 concert of Coldplay;

2. A copy of my book review of Ninotchka Rosca’s ‘Jose Maria Sison: At Home in the World’ which came out in Businessworld Weekender in 2004;

3. Ka Bel’s letter;

4. An article on Ka Satur in The Standard. The title is ‘The Charismatic Communist’;

5. A flyer of Bantay Konsulado; and

6. The work production schedule.

I’ve checked, heck, I’ve the messiest work station in the entire office. It’s embarrassing, but I can’t seem to help myself. I need this mess to keep the inside of my head clean. Reading the news everyday makes me want to tear my hair out; and writing on a schedule, while it isn’t really difficult, can be annoying if you’re writing advertorials. Every issue there are at least two.

This weekend I will no longer put it off and get myself a Flip-Flap.

-This is a Flip-Flap. Its leaves move in three motion patterns.

I honestly think if I succeed in clearing my desk it would mean that I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown.

—-

Am currently reading Frank Herbert’s Dune Trilogy. It’s a real fat book which I think will take me at least a week to read.  I want to write a review about it. Maybe after the paper’s upcoming issue’s done. Dune , to me, is all about the role religion can play in waging revolution. Using religion/myths/and other backward cultural beliefs serve the purpose of liberating the oppressed.

Hokay, lunch break is over. More later. Gad this messy desk is both my curse and salvation. I am sometimes embarrassed by the clutter…

—-

International Migrants Day today. I’m not sure there’s anything to celebrate. OFWs, as far as I can tell, work like modern-day slaves. The stories and accounts I hear in Hong Kong are enough to make my blood boil. Sure there are happy things happening in bits and pieces; but for the most part, it’s hellish working so far from your country, your family and loved ones.

Consider: Ang P8 bilyon na pondo ng Overseas Workers Welfare Administration (OWWA) ay nagsilbing gatasan ng gobyerno. Ayon  sa datos ng Migrante International, sa P538 milyon na pondo ng OWWA para sa taong 2005, P467.6 milyon ang ginastos ng administrasyong Arroyo, samantalang P28 milyon lang ang ginamit para sa serbisyo ng OFW at ng kanilang mga pamilya, at P5 milyon lang ang inilaan para sa welfare assistance sa labas ng bansa. Wala ni singkong inilagay ang gubyerno rito ngunit sila ang nagpapasya sa kung saan dapat ito gamitin at iniwawaldas ang pera ng OFWS.

Aaaaaargh!

The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy 

by Tim Burton

He proposed in the dunes,

they were wed in the sea,

their nine-day-long honeymoon

was on the isle of Capri.

For their supper they had on spectacular dish-

a simmering stew of mollusks and fish.

And while he savored the broth,

her bride’s heart made a wish.

That wish did come true - she gave birth to a baby.

But was this little one human?

Well,

maybe.

Ten fingers, ten toes,

he had plumbing and sight.

he could hear, he could feel,

but normal?

Not quite.

This unnatural birth, this canker,this blight,

was the start and the end and the sum of their plight.

She railed at the doctor:

"He cannot be mine.

He smells of the ocean, of seaweed and brine."

"You should count yourself lucky, for only last week,

I treated a girl with three ears and a beak.

That your son is half-oyster

you cannot blame me.

…have you considered, by chance,

a small home by the sea?"

Not knowing what to name him,

they just called him Sam,

or, sometimes,

"that thing that looks like a clam."

Everyone wondere, but no one would tell,

When would young Oyster Boy come out of his shell?

When the Thompson quadruplets espied him one day,

they called him a bivalve and ran quickly away.

One spring afternoon,

Sam was left in the rain,

At the southwestern corner of Seaview and Main,

he watched the rain water as it swirled

down the drain.

His mom on the freeway

in the breakdown lane

was pounding the dashboard-

she couldn’t contain

the ever rising grief,

frustration,

and pain.

"Really, sweetheart," she said,
"I don’t mean to make fun,

but something smellsfishy

and I think it’s our son.

I don’t like to say this, but it must be said,

you’re blaming our son for your problems in bed."

he tried alves, he tried ointments

that turned everything red.

He tried potions and lotions

and tincture of lead.

He ached and he itched and he twitched and he bled.

The doctor diagnosed,

"I can’t be quite sure,

but the cause of the problem may also be the cure.

They say oysters improve you sexual powers.

perhaps eating your son

would help you do it for hours!"

He came on tiptoe,

he came on the sly,

sweat on his forehead,

and on his lips - a lie.

"Son are you happy? I don’t mean to pry,

but do you dream of Heaven?
Have you wanted to die?"

Sam blinked his eyes twice,

but made no reply.

Dan fingered his knife and loosened his tie.

As he picked  up his son,

Sam dripped on his coat.

With the shellto hislips,

Sam slipped down his throat.

They buried him quickly in the sandmby the sea

- sighed a prayer,wept a tear-

and were back home by three.

A cross of gray driftwood marked OysterBoy’s grave.

Words writ in the sand

promised Jesus would save.

But his memory was lost with one high-tide wave.

Back home safe in bed,

he kissed her and said,

"Let’s give it a whirl."

"But this time," she whispered, "we’ll wish for a girl."

—

This is from Tim Burton’s book of the same title. Besides poems of this rather disturbing but still funny sort, there are illustrations also done by Burton. You cringe as you look at the pictures and read the words; first time I read this poem featured, I went ‘NGIIIIIII!"

Anyways, oddballs of the world, unite!

More later, am supposed to be working, but my eyes hurt…

—

Later has come.

I feel so much creativity right now it’s upsetting. I wish I could stay here all night and write!!!