What happened on Monday cast an unflattering light on my home country and the government is currently scrambling to save face and/or avoiding a diplomatic and political disaster. Unfortunately, blame-shifting is one of the strategies that it is employing. Bad choice. I learned early on that making excuses is never effective in gaffs and rows. On Tuesday morning the spotlight was on a tall, dusky Filipina in the Miss Universe pageant in Las Vegas. Unfortunately in the final round, Miss Philippines came up with a non-answer that was a shade more vague than the almost-answer of Miss Australia. Many (including yours truly) believe that this cost her the crown. Based on her performance in the 2 previous rounds, she was poised to be the 2nd runner-up at least. An excellent answer would have increased her chance of winning the top prize but as it happened, she did the opposite.

I couldn’t help but link these two seemingly disparate events. Those who know me understand my tendency to look for patterns in everything. Besides, these events share a common thread and that is, as Jessica Zafra succinctly put it: katangahan (ineptitude).

The botched negotiation/ rescue attempt by the SWAT team handling the hostage taking acted as if they were untrained. I mean, if that’s how SWAT men are, what about our rank and file police officers then? But equally more alarming is that this ineptitude seems not only to trickle downstream but also to extend the higher levels of government. If the rescue attempt was botched, the handling of its fall-out was also bungled by the government. Making excuses instead of clear explanations, non-observance of diplomatic protocol, and so on. I think P-Noy should re-examine his choices of technocrats and advisers to surround him. Because nobody seems to know what they are doing.

Now, Venus Raj is at the receiving end of worldwide attention for her mistake. Even more than, I think, Jimena Navarrete who was crowned Miss Universe. Yesterday I saw THIS particularly snarky article on The Washington Post website. ‘Major major’ seems to be fast becoming a catch-phrase. Eww! Okay, it’s good for a few laughs but wouldn’t it be nice to be remembered for something good? But before I go on, I’d just like to say that all things considered, I am proud of what Venus Raj achieved. She deserves credit for ending the 11-year drought of the Philippines in placing in Miss Universe. However, I will not restrain myself from saying that she could’ve achieved more by just being more alert. Perhaps she was nervous, but who wasn’t? She was even interviewed last among the finalists. That would’ve given her more time to compose herself. Was the language a barrier? Why not use an interpreter? I will stop coming up with excuses for her or for the Philippine police.

The BBC cited 1o things that the police got wrong in responding to the hostage drama. It’s curious that 2 of these are ‘lost opportunities’. Losing or missing opportunities seem to be commonplace now, when it comes to things Filipiniana. Of course, I won’t agree that Filipinos do not have hope. Sure we do. But it seems that our drive to be more than what we are has slowed down to a point where we can be content with so little. A Filipino saying goes, “Kung maiksi ang kumot, magtiis mamaluktot” (Curl up when the blanket is too small). There is a fine line between adaptability and complacency and I think we have crossed it. Have we lost our hunger for excellence? For finishing first? How many Filipino athletes have won gold medals in international sporting events in recent years? The numbers keep dwindling, no matter how great the incentive. We boast one of the highest literacy rates in the world but what has that brought us? A legion of of overseas workers (including me) and an army of call center agents.

Insanity has been defined as doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result each time. Does this explain the composition of the current Philippine Senate and House of Representatives? Let’s not even look at provincial and local governments.

Before I lose my way into this (increasingly) dizzying rant, my point is only this: I have gotten tired of thinking about the things I could’ve done, or done differently, or not at all, or opportunities that I’ve wasted due to procrastination or just plain laziness. We all make mistakes. We all screw up, some more than others. Some mistakes are more embarrassing to admit than others. Some mistakes cost more lives than others. And it is easy to forget that there is a way to move forward. Admit the mistake. Apologize as needed. Make amends. And do something to avoid making the same, or some other related mistake. The mistakes of the Philippine police in the 8/23 hostage taking and of Venus Raj are not theirs alone. Had they performed perfectly, we would’ve been basking in their respective glories. But as things unfolded, what we share now is this yearning for a better turn of events.

We always like to talk more about the what could’ve been than the what could be. Focus on how great we can be. Expect more of ourselves. No, demand more, if not all, from ourselves. I think it’s high time that we did. Now na.

On the day I was born, the number 1 song in the Billboard American Pop Chart was ‘The Morning After’ by Maureen Mc Govern, the theme song from the movie ‘The Poseidon Adventure’, a disaster movie which starred a slew of big Hollywood stars such as Gene Hackman and Shelley Winters. This song would eventually receive an Academy Award for best original song the next year. Ms Winters also received an Academy Award as best supporting actress. After 2 weeks, Diana Ross’s ‘Touch Me In The Morning’ wrestled the number 1 position from Ms McGovern.

album cover

A milestone marked the 1973 Academy Awards, which was held months before my birthday. Tatum O’Neal became the youngest actor ever to win an Oscar, at 10 years old, as best supporting actress for the movie ‘Paper Moon’. This record has yet to be broken. The closest was when Ana Paquin received the same award in 1996 for ‘The Piano’, at age 11. After more than 20 years, Jack Lemmon received his second Oscar as best actor for ‘Save the Tiger’. He won over much-favoured nominees Paul Newman and Robert Redford. In the FAMAS awards in my country, ‘Nueva Viscaya” was awarded best picture. Jun Raquiza was best director. Ramon Revilla and Gloria Sevilla were best actor and best actress, respectively. Eddie Garcia and Suzette Ranillo bagged the supporting acting awards.

tatum with her oscar

On the week I was born, the number 1 Hollywood movie was ‘American Graffiti’. This was the first full-length movie of George Lucas, who would release the now-classic ‘Star Wars’ five years later. Semi-autobiographical in its story, this movie would become one of the classic coming-of-age movies. Films about young people that happened in one day would continue to come years later, such as ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day-Off’, ‘Go’, and ‘Jologs’.

poster of 'american graffiti'

On the month I was born, the number 1 best-selling book according to The New York Times was ‘Breakfast of Champions’ by Kurt Vonnegut. It is a story of mental and psychological breakdown set in an unspecified time in urban America. Many critics and readers considered the novel an indictment of American greed and self-proclaimed superiority. They loved it. This was made into a movie in 1989 starring Bruce Willis, which was universally panned by critics, immediately joining the (long-ish) list of critical & commercial flops of Mr. Willis.

first edition cover

About 2 weeks before I was born, a Filipina was crowned Miss Universe for the second time. Maria Margarita Moran’s poise and elegance also won her the Ms Photogenic award. Although the Philippines is not the first Asian country to win the crown (Japan and Thailand won in 1959 and in 1965, respectively), it can claim the shortest time between 2 wins compared to Japan and Thailand, which stood at 4 years after Gloria Diaz first won in 1969. Thailand won 23 years after its first win (1988) while Japan waited for 48 years before winning again in 2007.

margarita moran, miss universe 1973

1973 would prove to be a watershed year for Filipinas in international beauty pageants. About 3 months after my birthday, the Philippines would achieve its best performance in not just one, but two international beauty pageants. Evangeline Pascual placed 1^st runner-up in the Miss World pageant. The winner would be dethroned just 4 months later but contrary to common practice, the crown was not offered to the runner-up. Nanette Macapagal was also the first runner-up in the Maja International pageant. She also secured the Ms Photogenic award. Meanwhile, Maria Elena Ojeda placed 5^th in the Miss International pageant.

Ms Pascual remains the most successful among Filipinas who have joined the Miss World contest. The closest was in 1993, when Sharmaine ‘Ruffa’ Gutierrez placed third. Ms Macapagal’s feat in Maja International would be unequalled until 2004, when Margaret Ann Bayot placed second.

On the date of my birth, my country was into the first year of Martial Law, which was declared by President Marcos to retains his hold on the presidency. The 1973 constitution had just been foisted upon the country, turning the bicameral body of the senate and congress into a parliament. From what my elders told me, at the time of my birth, people were just starting to realize that in spite of the obvious benefits of the curfew on preventing petty crimes, the fact that most of Marcos’s political opponents have been jailed gave them an uneasy feeling.

This uneasy feeling was probably echoed by the citizens of my adoptive country. In the Cambodian countryside, the secret carpet bombing done by the US military was on its tail-end, bringing with it the end of the lives of members of the budding anti-government movement Khmer Rouge and tens of thousands of civilians along with them. Up to this day, the American position on this is that the carpet bombings prevented the fall of Phnom Penh in 1973. They refuse to acknowledge that the carpet bombings only drove the peasants into joining the ranks of the Khmer Rouge, thereby contributing to the fall of Phnom Penh only two short years later.

These things did not happen on the day I was born.

Nothing historic happened on my birthday.

Here in Cambodia, people have been waiting longer for this event. Not for days and weeks but years. The UN-backed Khmer Rogue Tribunal handed down its verdict on the first man tried for the excesses of the Khmer Rogue regime of 1975-1979. Comrade Duch (pronounced doik), was the director of the Khmer Rogue’s prison and interrogation center ‘S-21′. Under his stewardship, it is alleged that about 16,000 men, women and children were processed (tortured) in S-21 before being executed. As the regime grew more paranoid, S-21’s prisoners increased. Whole families were interrogated for crimes by a single member. There is even a day in 1977 when Comrade Duch allegedly ordered the execution of 160 children. Towards the end of the regime, the efficient killing machine that was S-21 also saw the processing of Duch’s former cadres–victims of the purges within the Khmer Rogue ranks. S-21 later symbolized the regime’s brutality. In his defense, Duch said he only did what his superiors ordered because he wanted to survive. He also emphasized the fact among the 5 suspects detained by the tribunal, he was the only one who confessed and expressed remorse for the crimes during the regime years.

I didn’t catch the whole speech of P-Noy but its transcript was thankfully readily available so I managed to read it while watching the video of the post-SONA proceedings at the Batasang Pambansa. Was I ’shocked and awed’ as he had promised? Well, I will stand by my previous statement on not being easily shocked. Instead of being shocked, his revelations just validated what most Filipinos have known for years. That she was, is, a worse plunderer than her predecessor Joseph Estrada, who by the way placed second in this election in spite of being a convicted felon. How forgiving (stupid) are these 8million+ Filipinos who voted for Estrada? It made me think of Albert Einstein when he said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.” But I digress. So what did I like most about P-Noy’s SONA? On the surface level, I like his new hair-cut. I like the fact that he spoke in Filipino. The speech itself sounded equally great in my head and from P-Noy’s mouth. Most probably because unlike his inaugural address, he didn’t promise the moon and the stars to us. Although his responses to each of the irregularities he revealed could have used a bit more of consistency (some measures were too lofty, while some were too micro-management sounding), most of it was grounded on reality.

Duch was given a 35-year sentence, 5 years short of the sentence that the prosecution was going for. Cambodians, who are modest to the core (and consequently careful not to show too much emotion), wept openly when this was read aloud. This was perhaps due to the fact that the tribunal deducted 16 years from the sentence for time served and other factors. This meant that Duch, who is 67 years old, will be a free man if he stays alive until he turns 86. The net was immediately abuzz with reactions from the surviving victims and their families. Many felt that the sentence simply wasn’t commensurate with the grief that Duch had caused upon so many people. Up to this day, the mental state of many Cambodians has been irreparably fractured by what happened in those dark years. The 6-month trial was unprecedented because it was the only time when people openly talked of the atrocities that went on under the Khmer Rogue regime. For most of Cambodia’s youth (which comprise more than half of the population), it was like an instant history lesson because before the tribunal parents were reticent to talk about the past. For the older Cambodians, I imagine that it was either traumatic (for opening up old wounds) or cathartic (for knowing that many others went through the same sufferings).

P-Noy’s first SONA and the handing down of the verdict on Comrade Duch seemed disparate events but to me these underscored one thing: ACCOUNTABILITY. Graft and corruption have been monkeys on the back of Philippine (as well as Cambodian) politics, across all levels of government and transcending even private institutions, embedded down to individuals. When Estrada was accused and tried for plunder, the objective was to make an example of him so that other officials will reform their ways and perhaps sublimate greed into more productive virtues. But this example was quickly negated when Arroyo assumed power. The first time it happened, I was one of those who cheered her on, optimistic that she can, and will, do good for the country. Unfortunately, she only proved that a great educated mind does not necessarily translate to being a great leader. I didn’t participate in the 2004 presidential elections because I felt trapped between a rock and hard place. Contrary to her earlier pronouncement, she ran for president. And who did she run against? Fernando Poe, Jr–a great actor and film director, an artist at best. At worst, a big chump for allowing himself to be used by Estrada’s minions. I was relieved that he lost (due to cheating, everybody believes) but I was scared of the prospect of 6 more years with Arroyo. To her credit, she and her family remained consistent in all her years in office: utterly devoid of charm, crass, and conniving.

After Duch’s conviction, 4 more suspects are awaiting their trial under the Tribunal. Compared to Comrade Duch. They came from the highest ranks of the Khmer Rogue regime. None of them have confessed or expressed remorse over what happened in the regime. Many people have expressed pessimism at the outcome of these succeeding trials. This pessimism has increased with the verdict on Duch. It is quite easy to pin all blame on Brother No. 1 (Pol Pot). He is dead, after all. Unlike other war tribunals, the KRT is unique because the Cambodian government strongly lobbied that Cambodian judges be included (which made it vulnerable to government interference) and that the number of suspects tried be limited (because many government officials today, including the Prime Minister, were low-level Khmer Rogue members during the regime). The tribunal itself is being threatened with loss of funds because its primary funding source (the UN) is mulling withdrawing its support if allegations of corruption within the Cambodian management are not satisfactorily addressed. The verdict yesterday was 10 years and USD100M in the making.

That P-Noy set out to stomp out graft and corruption in government in his presidency is not surprising, given his pedigree and character. But graft and corruption does not exist in a vacuum, or within just a specific group of people (or family). It is not like a benign cyst that is encased in an impenetrable membrane. It is like a malignant tumor, with veins that are embedded into the blood stream, ensuring its circulation around the body. The extent and breadth of Arroyo’s corruption is proportional to the number of people who participated, willingly or not, in this enterprise. Who will be held accountable for the ‘crimes’ that he had outlined? As of this morning, the main talking points of P-Noy’s SONA have become a he-said, she-said discussion–denials popping up like mushrooms after the rains. Is it fair to make the leader accountable for the actions of the whole group? Most schools of thought on management and leadership would say yes. I think that this only serves to perpetuate things that we are trying to remove. As long as you’re not the top honcho, you can still avoid prosecution even if you do wrong if you invoke command responsibility. Stomping out graft and corruption is a Herculean task, requiring a vigorous shake-down of the whole society, its infrastructures, institutions, and members. Could a social engineering experiment be in sight? I don’t think so.

Because social engineering experiments are more likely to fail than succeed. Especially if the experiment is controlled by just a small, elite group of leaders. No matter how intelligent, how idealistic or altruistic this group starts out, absolute power and control eventually inebriates the wielder, flooding him with addictive euphoria then paranoia, to which the wielder responds by doing all things necessary to protect its power, until they are consumed by it and consequently destroying the whole experiment from within. This is what happened in the Khmer Rogue regime. Judging from the demeanor and stance of its remaining alleged engineers, it appears that the only losers in this failed experiment are its hapless subjects and victims.

And so, after the first SONA and the first verdict, Filipinos and Cambodians are once again waiting with baited breath. We are waiting for P-Noy to perform, towards delivering his campaign promises. He calls on each of us to join him in this journey, to participate in the best way that we can, to make our country again. Cambodians are waiting for the light of justice to shine on the dark years of their lives and history. Everyone probably has a demon to exorcise, a stain that is waiting to be brushed away, so they can move towards making their country great again.

A time that is ripe for change. But sustained change requires that everybody involved will change as well. Making this happen is nothing but miraculous. Perhaps, the time is also ripe for miracles.

]]> http://pinakadalisay.com/time-for-miracles/feed/ 1 http://pinakadalisay.com/the-child-is-gone/ http://pinakadalisay.com/the-child-is-gone/#comments Sun, 31 Jan 2010 19:57:54 +0000 The ZEN Bitch http://pinakadalisay.com/?p=401 Something remarkable happened to me a couple of days ago. I was logged in Facebook, looking at the wall of status updates of my friends. A name popped up in a friend’s status update comments. A blast from the past. Before I could control myself, I directed a question to her, asking if she, by any chance attended my high school. Turned out that she was indeed the one I thought of. If memory serves me right, she was a transferee from Bacolod, a place that the rest of us that time must have considered exotic, being land-locked Bulakenyos who probably considered Luzon as the only part of the country that mattered.

After this initial contact, she invited me to peruse her profile so I could get in touch with our other classmates. And before the euphoria faded away, I did exactly just that. I stifled a groan when I saw that she had 500+ friends. How was I supposed to get through this list? But about 90 minutes (and a blooming migraine) later, I have seen the many names that populated my young life. However, out of the 30+ names I saw in her profile, I only managed to click about 3 other names.

I have previously written how I felt about my unremarkable years in high school. Of course, when one hears that I graduated from high school at age 14, he or she wouldn’t agree right away that it was an unremarkable 4 years. But to be honest, that’s really how it was. If anything, the only remarkable things in my high school life were how socially inept I were, the sense of alienation that I felt (which never lifted until after my second year at university, and my utter lack of friends. If I were going to use my present definition of friends, I’d say that I only made one true friend in high school. And I never contacted him again since going to Manila a few weeks after graduating from high school. I saw him only 10 years later, by accident, while I was dining with my boyfriend at a restaurant. We were cordial with each other; he seemed excited about a supposed high school reunion that was going to happen in a few months. I feigned excitement when he mentioned the reunion, but I knew in my heart that I couldn’t be bothered to return to a place where I existed virtually invisible–always on the fringes, on the outside looking in the beautiful and popular ones.

Last I heard, J is dead. I remember he had a congenital heart defect. In fact, in our senior year, he got sick and almost died, about the time we had our annual spiritual retreat.

I didn’t attend that reunion or any other gathering related to my high school batch. No one probably knew how to reach me. After all, I (along with my family) left Bulacan after my high school graduation to settle in Manila. My father stayed with his job in the province for a good few years. I think I went to Bulacan only twice while I was studying. And one of the reasons why I did was just to hook up with someone I used to regularly fooled around with. When that proved unsuccessful, my interest waned. I would hear news on my old school from another alumnus, who graduated 2 years ahead of me and ended up marrying my uncle. She kept in touch with her high school friends. Some of these friends are elder siblings of my classmates so I would hear news about them too. I feigned interest but remained indifferent deep inside.

But, was high school really as bad as I like to picture it? This is a question that I hadn’t asked myself before, to tell the truth. Lately, I have to accept that our memory can play tricks with our emotions. Memories are, at best, tenuous and fleeting, always affected by external factors, and never truly accurate as, let’s say, a photograph. In all honesty, I can attest that my feelings about high school are true. If there is a part of my life that I have no intention of doing again, it will be my 4 years at Saint Paul’s School in San Rafael, Bulacan, hands down. I would like no more of those social missteps, the failures & frustrations, and the uninformed choices that defined my early adolescence.

Still, my contact with G brought on a rush of happy memories of high school. Small memories, actually, but happy nonetheless. And there were things about high school that made me happy. Teachers I genuinely liked. The nuns. The work I did for the school paper. They won’t be enough to dispel my opinion of high school, but enough to make me realize that like everything in life, there were good parts that went with the bad ones in my high school life. Makes no sense in looking at my high school life with disdain. Recognizing this reality will help me look back on high school with a more sympathetic perspective. Maybe, in doing so, it will also help me forgive myself for my past trespasses in high school, which were probably done in an unsuccessful attempt to gain leverage and, eventually, social acceptance within that microcosm called high school.

I was too young; I didn’t know any better.

Woman of the Year

Compared to her late husband, whom I didn’t know until he was assassinated, Tita Cory was a living, breathing part of my life. I was in the 6th grade when Ninoy was murdered, and my sophomore year in high school was almost over when she became the president after Marcos. I didn’t join the People Power revolution (before it was christened EDSA 1) because at that time, we were living in Bulacan, a good 90 minutes away from Manila. But I was happy because the Catholic school I went to was intermittently suspending classes in reaction to the events that were unfolding. I was kind of a spaz in high school, not caring much for what was happening in my country, primarily because I was more concerned of surviving each day in high school. Looking back, I think we were both fishes out of water. She in the field of politics, and I, the boy-wonder who was in high school at 11 years old.

People Power

By the time high school was over and done with (with me written off as the one who didn’t live up to his potential), Tita Cory was in the 3rd year of her presidency. A new constitution has been ratified, the senate and house of representatives have been restored with elections being held to fill these government branches, and her government has survived at least a couple of bloody coup attempts. She has been scrutinized left and right by critics and political foes–some of whom are blood relatives even, but she remained standing firm.

All the president's men (and women)

Towards the end of her term the Philippines was battered by natural and man-made disasters: the 1990 earthquake, the Mount Pinatubo eruption in 1991, the Dona Paz sinking, and the severe power outtages, to name a few. But her government remained firm, and prepared for the transition of the 1992 presidential elections. I was particularly excited because this was my first election. Sure, my candidate did not win, but I was exhilarated from being able to participate in the process. For those who have voted in the Philippines, you know what I mean. At its best (and peaceful), elections in the Philippines have an almost festive quality, compared to our more staid neighbors in Asia. As a boy I always thought elections were a kind of ‘fiesta’.

After relinquishing the presidency, Tita Cory chose to remain active in the pursuit of democracy. She lent her name and support to various causes, both in-country and internationally. She was also a prominent figure in the 2001 EDSA 2 that ousted Joseph Estrada, and in 2005 joined the calls for (the-most-annoying-president-ever) GMA to resign amidst allegations of fraud in the 2004 elections. She was actively involved in campaigning for clean elections, micro-finance development, among others, as well as relishing the benefits of a comfortable retirement.

Tita Cory & her family

Now, with her passing, as tributes and media coverage pile up, I am forced to ask myself: what does she mean to me? Certainly, I am saddened by her loss. Not so much for her family because I’m sure they will get a flood of support to help them cope with her death. Like I said, she was one of the most prominent Filipinos in my lifetime. But on a personal level?

One of her last public appearances

I would unflinchingly call her a hero; although I’m sure she would be the first to balk at the term. As a leader and reluctant politician, I’m sure she would be the first to admit that she had a lot of short-comings. I will not judge her as a mother simply because I’m not in the position to do so (even though the temptation to bring up the Kris Aquino card might be too strong to resist). I am apprehensive that the ABS-CBN coverage of her passing might go the way of Rico Yan–wherein the young man was almost canonized to sainthood. I fervently hope it doesn’t. Because doing that will only dishonor her. Tita Cory was all-too human with her flaws and limitations. However, these only serve to make her achievements all the more remarkable. There is absolutely no need, nor purpose, to mythologize/canonize Tita Cory.

Because certainly she lived her life not as a continuing performance (as opposed to, say, Imelda Marcos). She was in the perfect position to romanticize EDSA 1 but she never did. In fact, she lamented–on hindsight, that EDSA 2 only exposed the weaknesses of our country’s institutions. She later pointed out that People Power has failed at where it should count most: in improving the lives of the majority of poor Filipinos.

Perhaps she would grant me the privilege (and honor) of calling her my hero. If only because she showed me how someone who seem so ordinary can rise up to colossal challenges and do the best that can be done without sacrificing personal integrity. She ceaselessly demonstrated that the loftiest and most glorious accomplishments can be replicated by people like me. She reminds me constantly of the best in me–one that I have almost always managed to compromise in exchange for a few pleasures.

A young Cory Aquino

Would a yellow rose suffice in lieu of a yellow ribbon? I hope so, Luis.

I’m also copying his invitation to other bloggers out there who care for Tita Cory.

1. Create an entry entitled: “Touch a blogger: Tie a yellow ribbon for Cory Aquino!“. A link to this original entry will be appreciated, but is not required.

2. Post a yellow ribbon in your blog for President Cory Aquino. Whatever form of yellow ribbon that your creative imagination can come up with.

3. Invite other bloggers to tie a yellow ribbon for Cory.

Mayor Matt Palabrica

Last night, another forum was held at Bistro Lorenzo, one of the Filipino restaurants here, and we again had Dinky as main speaker. Of course, if you’re Filipino, you’d have to be living under a rock not to know that it’s still an ‘interesting time’ in Philippine politics, what with the election looming over everyone’s minds, and that pernicious prospect convening a constituent assembly (AKA ConAss) to change the constitution, thereby extending the term of GLP (grubby little prez) I mentioned above. In attendance were more than 40 people, a mix of faces (old and new) and dispositions (ranging from the keen to the fatigued and the concerned to the just-plain-hungry-for-the-$4-buffet).

Please pardon the flippancy.

Like the last time, Dinky is here in Phnom Penh on business, but she took time to be with us. She is with a colleague, Matt Palabrica, a young-ish mayor from a town in Negros province. He was here to participate in a workshop on good governance. He briefly spoke about his town, the degree of success they had on good governance and accountability. As most elected officials, Mayor Palabrica was a charming and eloquent speaker.

Dinky with her audience

When Dinky took to the floor, she said that Mayor Palabrica’s experience is, in her own words–one of the pockets of hope in Philippine politics today. She then proceeded to discuss the main topic of the forum, which is House Resolution 1109 and its implications.. I will not go into the (sordid) details. This is, after all, not a reportage on the forum. It’s not that I didn’t listen to the presentation also (I did! I swear!). I’d rather focus on my feelings and my perceptions on how the other people in the forum felt after hearing Dinky’s elucidating presentation (this might be presumptuous, so again, accept my apology if I don’t pursue this line of thought).

I couldn’t say anything after listening to Dinky. I mean, literally. I was dumb-founded to realize the depths people would go to in order to hold on to power. Of course, I have seen my share of dictators and despots but GLP really takes the cake in terms of her audacity and greed. Cambodia’s Prime Minister can take notes from her, I tell you. Makes me wonder what she was doing while in university studying to be an economist. Did she have despotism on her mind then?

Again, I digress.

Forum audience

The logical thing to discuss after hearing such exposition is what can we, as individuals or groups, do to help? A question that took a bit longer (than the last time) to ask and answer. As Dinky said, people power is not dead, but the ways of expressing this has changed a lot since 1986. This generation of youngsters, for one, dislike attending rallies. The emergence of the internet as an advocacy tool has also affected the ways activists advocate for their causes. A perfect example is the group formed in Facebook (No to CON-ASS) and its sibling (Tindig Nation). There are many ways to show protests, each one more creative than the other.

But then there’s the silence, which I have no clear way of explaining.

Blame it on my frustration and on my fatigue at hearing of one scandal after the other. Blame it on geographical distance, which gives me a false sense of hope that I am insulated from what is happening in my home country. Blame it on shame, which always tempts me to stay away from all things Filipino. Blame it on indifference, which lulls me into inaction.

I hope this silence doesn’t last long. My country needs me to be loud.

Lupang Hinirang – Gary Granada

As the Pacquiao-Hatton fight unfolded before the world, I was traveling by bus from Siem Reap to Phnom Penh. The bus was inexplicably late (almost an hour, imagine!) and it is only now that I realized–could it be because of that fight? In the Philippines, Sunday traffic is greatly diminished whenever Manny has a fight.

In any case, I tried to follow the progress of the fight through the 3G service of my phone. So before I reached Phnom Penh I already knew that Pacquiao knocked Hatton out in the second round. Another thing I like about Manny–he never wastes his fan’s time. So watching his fights is never counterproductive because you can always go back to whatever you’re doing. Everytime he has a fight, I imagine him telling me, with a wink and a smile: “Manood ka, ha. Sandali lang ‘to (Please watch. This will be over quickly.)”.

I was able to watch the replay of the fight the next day, at a Chinese channel, nonetheless. And I learned about the latest blooper on the Philippine national anthem on Monday night, when I watched TV Patrol at TFC.

Which made me wonder: is bastardizing our national anthem becoming a freaky trend among our professional singers? The last time (that I know) this happened was when Christian Bautista forgot the lyrics of the anthem in another boxing fight (Penalosa and some other guy, if I remember correctly). That was stupid. I’m not a fan of his and doing that only made me glad that I weren’t. The news report showed that in another Pacquiao fight, a singer tried to pull a Mariah on the last note of the anthem, and failed miserably. Eww!

And now, Martin Nievera, one of the Philippines’ veteran (some would even consider him a has-been) singers has ‘butchered’ the national anthem with that arrangement that sounded more like Las Vegas than Las Islas Filipinas. He even has the temerity to say that his arrangement was ‘not that fancy’, that he won’t say sorry for something he’s not sorry about, but would, ‘if needed’.

To this, I say, WTF?

Like most people (probably), he is not aware that there is a law that stipulates the things musicians and singers can do with the national anthem. However, I think ignorance of the law is not an adequate excuse. I mean, it’s just common sense. You don’t tamper with things like our national flag just because you think it can look better by adding, say, an extra star or sun-ray. I mean, it is possible to interpret the national anthem in a way that balances the creativity of the artist and the integrity of the song (listen to the widget attached above). Besides, I think our national anthem is one (if not the–but of course I’m biased here) of the better sounding anthems of any country. Its marching beat is very exhilarating. So why fix something that isn’t broken?

Mr. Nievera, I’m sorry, but your version sounded like a desperate audition to have whatever Las Vegas contract you have extended or renewed. You will never out-sing Tom Jones. Tom Jones will out-sing you even if he’s just singing in the shower.

The TV Patrol report included the notion of amending the law to accommodate ‘interpretations’ of the national anthem. Please. This is not about the law. This is about respect to our national symbols and national identity. And putting showmanship over this speaks much of how little respect this arrogant and bloated poseur has for his native country.