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Activism As The Last Option

28 July 2009

Okay, I admit it. I'm a fan of Pilosopo Tasyo. Or more specifically, I'm a fan of his way of thinking.

If I remember correctly (Please correct me if I'm wrong), it was Tasyo who advised Ibarra in Noli Me Tangere to keep his head down, to first court the powerful officials of the land to the extent of figuratively (and perhaps, literally) kissing the hands of the friars and other almighty beings. This had to be done so Ibarra could push through with his plans to improve his town by making sure he had the backing of both the politicians and the friars. By then, his political influence can be so overwhelming that he can now attempt more ambitious attempts at social reform (And who knows? At that point, he can probably subvert, with assured success, the powers-that-be and ultimately undermine and transform for the better the rotten Spanish-era socio-political system). Tasyo encapsulated this philosophy best in the parable of the wind-battered stem, which, while weak, bends with the wind as not to be destroyed at its infancy.

Having introduced Tandang Tasyo's way of thinking, I proceed by saying that I'm not a believer in activism as a potent social force. No, it doesn't mean I hate activists (I have friends who are), nor does it mean that I find activism unnecessary or ineffective ( Rallies and protests are effective but to a certain extent if I may add). What it simply means is that I believe it isn't the best solution out there for the serious reformist.

This is because activists operate, not within, but outside the traditional sphere of power and influence. One can argue against this by saying that some activist organizations have made great leaps by installing their key personnel in Congress and other high offices. But we also have to admit that these "key personnel" are but a puny minority in a group otherwise infested by people with vested interests and corrupt minds. In such a group, it's very hard to win.

One can continue arguing against this by saying that, if majority is the key to winning, activists have the upper hand. For instance, it cannot be denied that activists can mobilize a great deal of people to join rallies or to voice out their discontent over a controversial bill or action. In general, a politician's weakness is the ballot box, and anything which will threaten a politician's number of votes is instant Kryptonite. In other words, having a huge number of people go against you or your bill/proposal won't exactly do wonders to one's political career. But organizing an entire populace to rally against a perceived, malicious agenda is simply too inefficient (the process itself requires too many resources) and the odds for success aren't quite that good either ( Activists have railed against "bad" laws only to have them still in force several years later).

Having said all this, the other solution to social reform that I see is basically what Pilosopo Tasyo proposes and that is, to act small, go inside the organization and start from there. That means establishing meaningful relationships with top-rank officials, winning their trust, building rapport with the establishment, while remaining firmly grounded to one's own idealistic agenda. Then, when the time comes, one has all the backing in the world , all the political leverage, when one pursues attempts at social reform.

What I just said can be considered anathema to activists since the nature of their advocacy hinges on maintaining a confrontational attitude against the government. It's probably not an overstatement to say that activists thrive on confrontation. But this sort of confrontation only produces enemies and most of the time, these enemies are the exact same people you have to win over for your cause to succeed!

Perhaps, one other dilemma confronting this questionable solution is the fact that one has to network with political personalities of questionable character and/or reputation. For a hard-core activist, this implication is nothing short of despicable ( It's like sleeping with the enemy!). But such a solution has already been applied a long time ago by a carpenter named Jesus, who sat down with the so-called "sinners" and succeeded in bringing them into his fold.

Simply put, confrontation as a means to social reform is untenable and as long as "activism" maintains this kind of stance, it will never be good enough for me and thus, will remain my last option for social reform.

Maybe, in another post, I can elaborate my point further by going into the details of my position. Until then, peace out.

Text Messages 8

24 July 2009

Sometimes, some forwarded text messages are so sentimental but you never tire of reading them because they were sent by someone special. I, for one, have received the corniest messages but if it came from a certain person, I just roll my eyes, smile and continue reading...

...and yes, I don't forward these messages.

Time maybe so fast that we can't guess how long this friendship would stay but even if time keeps us apart, even when chances pushes me out and away, remember that I'll never stop to care because despite my absence between gaps and distances, the promise of you and me being friends remains, lasts, and persists. It may not be under the arms of togetherness and bonding. Beyond words, beyond spaces, beyond hindrances. Friends till the end. This is my commitment signed by: Gyl
Argyl Serrano, July 23, 2009

Destiny belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams and have the courage to pursue it. Don't stop when you're tired. Stop when you're done!
Jeff De Leon, July 22, 2009

Juan: Oi, unsa na? Pinya? Hatag beh.
Pedro: Hatag? Asa ka adtong nananom ko? Adtong nangharvest ko? Adtong naglisod ko? Asa ka?
Juan: Napriso man gud ko. Nakapatay kog laog.
Pedro: Awww...kuha lang. Kapayas, gusto ka?
Mary Ann Andicoy, July 21, 2009

A smile makes us look younger while prayers make us feel stronger and good friends? They remind us the beauty of Life.
Ate Cathy, July 21, 2009

Pacquiao: Honey, buksan mo na yung sweets.
Jinky: Saan? Ang lambing mo naman, may pasalubong ka pa sa akin.
Pacquiao: Yung sweets ng ilaw. Ang dilim, you know!
Mary Ann Andicoy, July 21, 2009

Great friendship is about two main things: First, is to find out the similarities and second, is to respect the differences. Take care
Charlotte, July 20, 2009

Parrot said sa niagi nga boy...
Parrot: Batig nawong!
Boy: Sulti paka ana usab, patay jud ka!
Next day...
Parrot: Pssst!
Boy: Unsa man?
Parrot: Kato gud! Hehehehe.
Rogelyn Donor, July 19, 2009

Minsan ang pag-ibig parang ibon: kailangan pakawalan, kailangan palayain. Babalik yun kung sa iyo pero kung hindi, hala! Pintika! Yaters! Talagsa ra ta maghigugma, mulupad pa!
Mary Ann Andicoy, July 25, 2009

One day, all of us will get busy with our lives. No more drinking sessions, long hours of talks, or even SMS. Some will get married, won't have time. At such a day, you will look outside your window and see the good old memories flash you by and you will get a smile with a tear in your eyes and think, "I wish I could go back". I sent you this message because I want to thank you for the memories you left in my life. Thank you for the friendship.
Ate Cathy, July 18, 2009

A hot girl in a resort walks to a guy.
Girl: Do you know how to swim?
Guy: (boastful) Why? Mura kog swimmer?
Girl: No! Mura kag nokos!
Mary Ann Andicoy, July 17, 2009

I'll be isolating myself from the rest of the flirt, promiscuous gay world starting today.
Kit Loma, July 15, 2009

A very useful asset is not a head full of knowledge but a heart full of love, with an ear ready to listen and a hand willing to help.
Mary Ann Andicoy, July 11, 2009

To all my friends who did love me, Thanks! To those who fooled me, soon it's my turn! To those who made me feel sweet, I hope it will happen again! To the person who loves me, I love you too. To plastics, Go plastikan tayo! To people I've hurt, forgive me! And to the person who is reading this, you know where you belong.
Ate Cathy, July 10, 2009

Use Difference and Differences in a sentence!
Kuan..."You'll be Difference and I'll be Differences. It's a love story, baby, just say yes."
Edwin Gutierrez, July 9, 2009

Sosyal nga girl nipalit ug Ice water
Girl: Ayu.
Tindera: Unsa man?
Girl: Palit daw ug mineral water...kadtong sachet.
Edwin Gutierrez, July 8, 2009

"Bombing In Mindanao"

21 July 2009

First, the prologue.

I like watching news with the old man. He rants out at just about everything he sees and listens to on the evening TV news. Despite his seemingly obnoxious comments, one redeeming factor he has is that he is fully aware of just how crappy much of the news shown on TV really are. And, apparently, he has no pity for the news reporters who must churn out whatever news bite there is, no matter how crappy, in order to keep their jobs.

Last night, I was in yet another stage of "developing my socio-civic awareness"; my dad and I were watching the NBN evening news. We came to the part when the news anchor began reporting about another bomb blast in Cotabato. However, to the distress of my father, the headlines below the screen said "Bombing in Mindanao"!

The tirade was almost immediate. Why "Bombing in Mindanao"? The blast happened in Cotabato so why couldn't the headlines read "Bombing in Cotabato" for crying out loud? Why implicate the whole island? Why reinforce the general perception that Mindanao is a dangerous place when the truth is most of the island's cities and provinces are peaceful and safe?

In the end, Papa could only frown at the screen as Mama finally suggested he write about it to somehow correct the error in presentation (which he won't because, well, he just won't). What compounded the issue was that the news was from the National Broadcasting Network and a government-owned entity at that (Chances are, the company is blissfully unaware that they are jeopardizing the economic development of an entire island by its false generalizations). As if to make matters worse, the news about the bombing in Cotabato was also aired on Q, with the same headline.

I was left to ponder the question: Why? Why would the news reporter do that? Is it to make his news bite more news-worthy or more sensational? Or is it simply because these reporters are not that familiar with Mindanao geography so they use the name "Mindanao" quite blatantly just to keep things simple? What could be the probable reason?

The next question that went through my mind was: Why only us? Why don't they apply it to incidents outside of Mindanao (example: "Bombing in Luzon", "NPA attacks in Visayas" etc...)? Why the "preferential treatment", you might say?

Come to think of it, it's unfair really and I think this issue is as old as my lola's house but it's still here. I do hope, as always, that things will change. Maybe, we should have an awareness seminar of sorts for this issue. Or, on the other hand, maybe it's more practical to stick to hate mail.

If so, I better start writing...

Saydlayn

20 July 2009

A short story

Alas-sais na sa buntag. Dugay ko kamata. Naog sa silong, tulog pa si Manay. Samuk. Wala napuy pamahaw. Balik sa kwarto. Dali-dalig ilis panglakaw. Bahala na walay ligo. Kung kabalo ko sa mga aplikante, halos kasagaran sa ilaha wala pa puy ligo. Gawa sa balay. Sugod ug baktas. Pasaylua jud ko Nit, wa napud ko kamatag sayo.

Pagkita sa gawas sa opisina, daghan na kaayo'g nakalinya. Hapit tanan mga babaye gikan sa bukid. Akong tagna? Taga-Cotabato, kay naka-kombong tanan. Mga Muslim. Edaran na pero naa puy uban nga batan-on pa kaayo. Asa sila padulong? Katabang paadtog Middle East?

Giingnan ko kaniadto. Kasagaran sa ilaha, muabot ug Dabaw gabii pa lang. Tapos, dinha na mangatulog sa gawas para pagka-ugma diretso na ug linya. Dira napud mukaon, mao nga nagkatag ang agi kay bisan asa na lang ipanglabay ang plastik ug dahon sa saging.

Molinya na lang ko uy. Kung tama ang tagna, ika-singkwenta pa ko sa linya. Ayos na ni. Karon, asa na si Nit?

"Kaganiha pa na sila kadlawon ba!" Si Nit. Pahunghung pero klaro nabwisit.

"Sus. Kung ingon ana ka ka-sayo, ikaw na lang sana nilinya."

"Mura pug kabalo ka mu-storya ug tawo, no? Ayaw nag hawa. Madugay-dugayan pa ta dinhi."

Nihawa si Nit. Tama siya, madugayan pa ko. Wa ko kabantay, nidaghan na'g kalit ang mga tawo. Hapit na alas-syete, musugod nag abot ang uban aplikante. Mga walay tarong tulog, wala tarong kaon.

Ang uban aplikante, wa na nilinya. Nagtapok na lang dapit sa entrans. Sigurado ko, plano ani, musingit unya pag-abri.

Alas-syete y medya na. Sugod nag kainit, pati mga ulo. Si Nit, sige pag suroy-suroy, nangitag tawo. Gikulbaan na mao nga naligo nag singot. Sugod nag kasaba ang mga tawo sa pila. Sigeg pangatawa, pangasaba sa mga musingit, pangutana kung unsang buhaton, sige'g istorya. Ang uban naghilom-hilom pa, sigeg tan-aw sa kalsada, sa langit, lalum ang mga gipanghuna-huna (siguro).

"Saudi mo padulong, day? Basi rape-un lang mog Arabo didto", ingon sa usa ka lalake sa unahan sa iyahang gika-istorya na babayeng Muslim.

"Hoy! Pagpilag tarong! Bawal na nang singit-singit dira! Kining mga bayhana, dili ni pwede diri ba", pangasaba sa usa ka lalake na dakog lawas.

"Unsa mani uy! Pilipino lang man ta tanan diri. Naa pa juy mag-maru-maru. Maglinya'g tarong!", hirit pa sa usa ka babaye na nagbitbit ug bata.

"Excuse mem saan po ba magsisimula?", pangutana sa usa ka chicks sa likod. Halata na sosyal, ug naay pagka-tanga. Nagtuga-tugag suot ug high heels.

"Dili na man ka kinahanglangan maglinya, nay. Priority man ang senior citizen. Didto namu atang sa entrance."

"Maayo sana, butangan nilag lingkuranan ning linya. Para di ta maglisod ba. Mga pila pa gud ta ka oras maghinulatay diri", reklamo sa usa pa jud ka babaye. Palibhasa, kung kinsa tong datu, panay reklamo, ug kung pobre, walay saba-saba.

Hapit na mag-alas-otso. Niabot na ang gwardiya. Asa naman ka Nit?

"26 naka day? Mura pa man kag minor. Peke ning birth certificate nimo no? Asa imong Voter's ID? Peke mani! Itum kaayo!" Gipag-initan ang usa ka aplikante sa may tumoy. "Kinsa diay imong Papa? Wa ka kabalo sa ngalan sa imong amahan? Dili man siguro ni imuhang certificate. Aguy. Di jud ni pwede."

"Alangan, mubutang kog wala diri. Wala man jud gender akong birth certificate," ingo pa sa usa ka murag seaman sa iyahang kauban.

Gikuhit napud ko sa likod. Si Nitoy. "Ding, naa na. Nagbayad na siya. Muduol siya unya. Lalake, tabaon. Naka-pula ug polo."

"Sige. Pila iyang gibayad?"

"Three hundred. Kung mupila pa ka hangtud sa entrans, naa pa siyay isingit. Pag-umangkon niya. Mudagdag daw siyag usa ka gatos."

"Ayaw na, Nit. Daghag maka-matngon, basi daghag ma-bwisit."

"Kaw bahala. Padulongay na siya."

Niabot nang tawo. Naka-polo ug pula. Tama, taba jud diay. Naka-kwintas bulawan, pulseras. Rolex ata ang relo. Shades. Politiko ni. Igo lang ko gitapik sa likod ug nag-ilis namig pwesto.

Nagbitbit nag yabe ang gwardiya. Alas-otos na.

Lawak nami ni Nit palayo. Tunga mi sa three hundred. Mantas pud nig agi si Nit. Katong tawo na to, pirti tong kadatu. Tapos, igo lang ko ingnan na three hundred lang iyahang nakuha? Pagka-animal. Nag-ngisi nang buang. Kabalu ko sa imong pagkamaru, doy. Ugma na ka.

Balik tan-aw sa pila. Gi-abri na ang opisina. Ug kalit-kalit, ang mga tawo na nag-istambay sa daplin sa entrans, ningdagan pasulod. Pati ang mga nasa pila, nagdasok pud. Nag-unhanay tanan. Stampede.

"Hoy! Unsang gamit sa linya? Pag-linya mog tarong!" Nishagit pa ang usa ka aplikante. Pero wala na siya nadunggan kay nagkayagaw na tanan. Ang lalake na naka-polo ug pula, pula napud ang nahung sa kasuko. Sigeg Ingles, nabwisit. Sigeg suksok, pero di kaduol sa entrans sa kadaku sa tiyan.

Nag-ngisi na lang ko. Mamasada pa ko. Hantud ugma puhon.

Note: I wrote this story prior to leaving for Manila. This was supposedly the second of my two entries while applying for a spot in the Davao Writers Workshop 2008. The idea of this story was formed while lining up for my passport in the DFA. About a year later, I found out that such sideline jobs are actually commonplace, particularly in TV game shows.

Comeback

19 July 2009

This morning, I fumbled some lines and forgot some cues on the way to what would be an exceptionally normal comeback.

After being absent in the scene for more than a year, I once again donned the long-sleeved barong for this morning's mass. I arrived early to practice reciting the readings only to find out that I was supposed to be the commentator. It was the 31st National Disability Rehabilitation and Prevention week and two blind lectors where chosen to read the Scriptures.

I initially freaked out at this change of plans. That's because, on the one hand, being a mass reader was no sweat. All I had to do was memorize the cues when to go to the lectern and, after the readings, participate as part of the laity for the rest of the mass. But on the other hand, being a commentator was a different thing. It meant I had to consciously familiarize myself again with the flow of the mass and jot down a few things to remember by. In the end, there was no turning back. I was the commentator and, with sweaty palms and shaking hands, I did my job.

Fortunately, everything ended quite pleasantly. I did what I had to do and forgave myself for some nasty errors on my part, all of which will be forgotten by parishioners as the days trod on. The good thing about this exercise was it helped calmed down my nerves and reassured me that I still have it (whatever that is).

...which reminds me that I have another assignment on Tuesday. Hope I would be less of a nervous wreck by then. And sometimes, I do wonder where my self-confidence goes for vacation.

Oo nga naman, Lord?
 

Pangitaa Gud

Ang Pulong Sa Ignoy