The Year of Crossing Over

Three years summarized in cliches*: 2004 was the year of jumping into the abyss. 2005, the year of tying up loose ends. 2006, the year of crossing over.

2006 was a year of literal and figurative departures: of working for still-detained labor leader and lawmaker Ka Crispin Beltran, of shuffling between Congress and Camp Crame and the Heart Center after Ka Bel's arrest, of getting married, of losing my mother-in-law to lung cancer, of moving house thrice, of starting work at an environmental network, of mournful but meaningful departures: Erika, Mommy Cel, Ka Pido, Roval, Ka Ochie, Auntie Tess, Ka Tirso, Lyn and Randy's fathers, Atty. Gojol and other activists assassinated by the Arroyo administration's death squads.

Will be spending New Year at the hospital, as my grandmother has pneumonia.

*Still can't figure out the exact character key for the letter 'e' with that strange mark on top.

Green Post

Green is said to symbolize the new. So, a MEANINGFUL GREEN YEAR to all!

Speaking of things green, here are some

Environmentally-friendly New Year's Resolutions
for Third World residents...

1. Conserve electricity. We will be forced to anyway, at the atrocious and unbelievable rates that electric companies such as Meralco are charging consumers. Better to divert extra energy to calling for a repeal of the Electric Power Industry Reform Act (EPIRA), which brought upon the scourge of more expensive power rates in the first place.

2. Throw away garbage properly. Metro Manila produces more than 7,000 tons of trash daily, a quarter of which ends up in clogged waterways and biologically-threatened rivers such as the Pasig. Do your part in reducing the unnecessary spread of solid waste by disposing of it properly.

The same holds for seemingly insignificant but disposable items, such as candy wrappers, empty softdrink cans, leftover food wrappers, and loose paper. It's utterly disppointing to see that people who loudly obsess with "keeping clean, neat and fresh" won't think twice of throwing litter in the streets, out of car windows, and elsewhere in public--even when there are trash cans lying around the place for the whole world to use. Although I generally maintain that the MMDA's ubiquitous pink street signs border on the morbid ("Walang tawiran nakamamatay" - 'No crossing the street: deadly') to downright moronic ("Bawal ang tao dito" - 'Humans are prohibited here'), there was one that made perfect sense in the context of this annoying litterbug mentality among Filipinos: Maliit na basura ibulsa. (Too bad that 'Bayani's boys' inexplicably display these in the middle of national highways such as EDSA.)

3. Quit smoking. It's a real health hazard, an additional (and non-essential) expenditure, and it stinks. If you can't, then try not to do it around people who would otherwise benefit from the absence of noxious second-hand smoke. Remember that the Philippine health care system isn't exactly efficient nor cheap. And that there are better ways to handle stress, social anxiety, and ennui than through puffing your lungs out as if your existence hinged on it. As the hilarious quote attributed to Brooke Sheilds points out: "Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life." (hahahah).

4. Say 'NO' to destructive and plunderous projects in our communities. Prevent the Lafayette and Marcopper mine spills from happening all over again: stop foreign TNC mining and large dam projects right in their tracks, way before they get a foothold on public land.

5. Write or lobby lawmakers to reject lopsided trade deals such as the JPEPA. Out of the hundreds of possible trade products in this Japan-Philippines agreement signed by GMA and Koizumi, at least 141 were classified by the DENR as "environmentally-sensitive" if handled improperly, including clinical waste, and hospital discards. Far as I know, the only real local 'commodity' that the Philippine government is really capable of exporting to Japan are nurses, so go guess who's the loser at the receiving end of waste importation?

6. Protect the local fishing industry and marine biodiversity. If you thought Nemo and Sebastian were cute, then think of how giant corporate trawlers from Japan, the US, Canada, and Australia are quickly depleting our aquatic resources, degrading our coastlines and coral reefs and depriving some 8 million Filipinos of their livelihood from small-scale fishing.

7. Boycott Petron. For causing the largest oil spill ever on Philippine waters in Guimaras. For (oops) doing it again with the Misamis oil sludge spill. For flatly refusing to compensate for the damages. For going about its perfunctory clean-up operations without providing adequate protective gear for residents paid to do so. For endangering the lives, health, and livelihood of the community in the process. Need one say more?

8. Plant trees and protect our forests. Face it: the Philippines no longer has much forest cover to speak of. An estimated 90% of Philippine old-growth forests have already been cut down due to massive log importation, commercial deforestation, and timber licensing agreements throughout the Spanish, American, and post-Commonwealth periods. But while helping a tree or two grow is noble in itself, it's going to take much more than small-scale reforestration efforts to reverse the devastation produced by the systematic and colonial plunder of our resources.

9. Don't vote for incompetent Environment USecs running for higher public office in the 2007 national elections. They didn't quite do a good job at the DENR, how can we expect them to do a better job as Senators or Congressmen?

10. Support the peoples right to free and fresh water. Land-locked countries often go to war with each other over water rights--a historical reality which has generally spared this archipelago, where freshwater supplies are theoretically abundant and accessible to the majority of the populace. This, as history also shows, is not true: in terms of freshwater availability per citizen, the Philippines ranks as the second LOWEST among all Asian countries. This is largely caused about by water privatization and pollution related to waste dumping by commercial industries such as mining and logging. Quit drowning in apathy, reclaim our water reserves for the benefit of all. #

...And 12 Resolutions for Myself
The simpler, the better. So here goes:

1. Wake up at dawn. So that I may witness the fragile teethering of a world between slumber and consciousness: the primordial and ethereal flow of repose and awakenings unimpeded by the mundane flow of human follies... NAAAH! So that I get to arrive at the office earlier AND have more time to write press releases, heheh.
2. Learn how to cook.
3. (Upon fulfillment of Resolution # 2) Cook more vegetables and eat more fruits. They come in more colors and shapes than meat and are kinder on the digestive system. Ideally, they should also be cheaper.
4. Write more often and in more forms . And not just when the need arises.
5. Paint and draw. These two things I haven't really done ever since deciding to go full-time in 2004. See resolution # 4.
6. Have time for art history research. This year, I had perfectly valid excuses for my utter absence of output. Next year, wala na !

7. Visit a mining-affected community or an area affected by large-dam operations.
8. Keep in touch with family and friends more often .

9. Maintain a CLEAN desk. This is the hardest to do. I share a cramped 2'x2' meter cubicle with three jolly male officemates, none of whom are really serious about keeping stuff tidy and aesthetically-acceptable. At home, my desktop bears an uncanny resemblance to a certain aerial photograph of wartime Manila, taken right after returning American planes bombed the city to smithereens. This year, I'll win the war against debris, disorder and dust balls! As Starstruck and First Quarter Storm veterans would say: Dare to believe, dare to struggle, dare to win!

10. Bike to work. So am saving up for a bicycle (plug: care to donate one instead?).
11. Quit my annoying habit of hair-pulling. Found the clinical term for this disorder in my sister-in-law's books: trichotillomania. It is possible to wean oneself away from this anxiety problem without drugs, that's certain.
12. And lastly: Sleep earlier. The old adage holds true: Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

You Are Not a Cook

You know cooking isn't for you, and you wouldn't even consider trying to make a homecooked meal. And this is a very good thing. You've saved all your friends and family from unintentional food poisoning!

Are You A Good Cook?

A meaningful New Year to all!

Somber December for Lafayette victims

Three days to before Christmas and I can hardly feel any holiday cheer (nor chill) in the air.

This December, however, is far more somber for the residents of Rapu-Rapu island in Albay, where the controversial Lafayette mine project continues to operate. Like many of their fellow Bicolanos, Rapu-Rapu folks were beset by landslides during the height of typhoon Reming month, untimely departures, and more.

The Rapu-Rapu island landslides, however, were diffferent from those which devastated the regions surrounding Mayon Volcano in Albay. Instead of mudflows and lahar and water composites, Rapu-Rapu was hit by dozens of small landslides composed of broken rocks, organic wastes, and debris. At least eleven people died in the wake of the debris that hit Barangay Malobago, the community nearest to the Lafayette open-pit mine site. Many of the fatalities came from one household which was literally crushed by a curtain of rocks cascading down the mountain slope. Despite the government and Lafayette's press releases, Fr. Ino Bugauisan and other local leaders report that no relief operations have reached the island as of last week.

The folks from CEC-Phils suspect that the landslides are closely associated with Lafayette's massive blasting operations during the past months. It is reported that Lafayette has dug hundreds of meter-deep holes in the earth filled with bags of combustible materials, and is underway on blasting through to the very heart of the mountainous terrain. Many of the community folks compare the jolts in the aftermath of the explosions to little 'earthquakes'. They say that blasting operations, held twice daily, have grown progressively stronger before Reming hit and forced Lafayette to again halt its operations.

Neither has Rapu-Rapu reaped the so-called economic benefits of foreign TNC mining at the close of 2006. Only 30% of Lafayette's laborers are locals of Rapu-Rapu; the rest are itinerant workers sourced from elsewhere in the Visayas. Almost 100% of all fisherfolk in the island (practically its entire population perhaps) have virtually lost their livelihoods as the catch continues to dwindle inexplicably.

____________________

Lafayette victims have also lost two defenders this month: human rights lawyer Gil Gojol and environmental chemist Dr. Aloysius Baes.

Dr. Baes, 58 years old, was a member of the Rapu-Rapu Fact Finding Commission (RRFC) which declared the Lafayette mine tailings spills as a case of irresponsible mining and recommended the termination of its contract with the government, He passed away last December 22 at the National Kidney Transplant Institute after a sudden illness.

Atty. Gojol, 46 years old, is a Bicol-based human rights lawyer who represented over a hundred Sorsogon-based fisherfolk in a class suit against Lafayette early this year. He and his driver were accosted and shot to death last December 12 by motorcycle-riding assassins in Sorsogon, near a military detachment.

I got to meet Dr. Baes, or Ochie as he was fondly called, during my first week at Kalikasan last October. He was a kind man with sharp, inquisitive eyes and a precise, patient way of explaining things. Even though he was often in pain from gout and had difficulty breathing, Ochie managed to speak at a forum on mining liberalization at IBON. He also gave the KPNE and CEC staff an afternoon-long lecture on toxic heavy metals in the oil and mining industries, scheduling a follow-up workshop to demonstrate a test kit he devised. That workshop never pushed through.

I only got to know more about Ochie from my colleagues' and husband's anecdotes about him: how he was as a scientist who sought to change social reality, how the biochemist was also a composer, how he envisioned environmental advocacy as an extension of the people's struggle for liberation. A short tribute written by Gani for AGHAM best articulates how we feel at his early departure.

Similarly, I hardly knew Atty. Gojol when we visited his wake last Tuesday. But upon hearing the testimonies of his clients (most of whom are from the poor and from progressive organizations) and his colleagues, it struck me how profound a loss he was to the people. LIke Ochie, Atty. Gojol has unwittingly erected a monument in our hearts.

Of love and liberty

'Took quite a while to finally retrieve this particular file, but here it is anyway: a photo of detained Anakpawis Congressman Crispin 'Ka Bel' Beltran and Rosario 'Ka Osang' Soto-Beltran during their 50th wedding anniversary rites last November 16, at the Chapel of the Philippine Heart Center (PHC).

More than a month has passed since then, but I'll always have fond memories of that day when Ka Bel and Ka Osang renewed their marriage vows in front of family, friends, and comrades. (November 16, coincidentally, is also the anniversary of the Hacienda Luisita massacre n Tarlac.)

It was a serene Sunday afternoon, marked by cold and intermittent rainshowers, alternating between grey and sunny skies. The day's absolutely mixed-up weather only seemed to reflect my own ambivalence towards the event: while I was happy for Ka Bel and Ka Osang, I felt sad knowing that with his experiences, stature, and age, Ka Bel doesn't deserve to be detained and shorn of his rights in the way that the Arroyo administration's morally-bankrupt conjugal circus has been doing for MORE THAN NINE MONTHS already.

What happened that day is already stale news: The ceremony was held in the hospital's 5th floor chapel because the courts inexplicably refused to issue a permit for any larger venue outside the PHC. Ka Bel was escorted by his PNP guards to the cramped chapel, which was packed tight with well-wishers, guests, and grandchildren of all ages and sizes. The media and even personal videographers were barred from covering the event. A festive reception was held at the nearby Parks and Wildlife, but Ka Bel was forced to stay put in the hospital by his police captors.

As traditional ceremonies go, this event had its fair share of sponsors, pictorials, and good food. But what I like to remember about that day, instead, were the last few minutes prior to the entire event: how Ka Bel's eyes crinkled at the edges while he grinned like a teenager ready to take on the world. How he seemed so much more positively sprightly and lithe that day, greeting visitors and family with more bounce in his step after donning a warm yellow undershirt and barong. How he would gamely pose for the cameras that a few managed to sneak in past his guards, how happy he seemed to be upon seeing so much comrades at this single moment.

I also swear Ka Osang looked a decade younger that day, dressed in a yellow embroidered Maria Clara dress and wearing dainty beaded slippers. Back in Ka Bel's hospital room, Ka Osang didn't want to sit down, saying that she wasn't used to wearing such dresses and didn't want to wrinkle the fabric. I recalled her painstaking visits to Camp Crame last April, where Ka Osang trudged to the PNP hospital clad in shorts, rubber shoes, headband, and a red t-shirt calling for Ka Bel's freedom, and her stories of how she would tirelessly wake up at dawn to sell foodstuffs then walk all the way from Fairview to Camp Crame back when Ka Bel was jailed during Martial Law. Two decades older and a political detainee's wife twice over, Ka Osang now often suffers from aching joints and finds it physically difficult to be as active as she was before. But this did not douse her resolve to continue fighting for Ka Bel's freedom once more.

In the end, I was happy because this short ceremony was more than a public affirmation of a couple's love and commitment to one another for five long decades: it was also an affirmation of conviction and hope in the face of political persecution, a lesson imparted by these two people who have been through hell and back yet have not given up on the struggle. Seeing Ka Bel and Ka Osang at this moment, I knew in my heart that the Arroyo administration failed, miserably and absolutely, in its attempt to break Ka Bel's spirit.

In the Aftermath of Catastrophes

It's 5:39 a.m. I'm sitting stupidly in front of my husband's desktop, trying to shake some wits out of dreamland and back into my addled brain before dawn.

My computer won't start. I don't think it crashed, or at least I hope it didn't. For some reason known only to the divine and the idiotic alike, it just REFUSED to start. Totally unresponsive ever since last night, despite working perfectly well for most of the day. My husband, the more technically-proficient one between the two of us, has thrown in the towel on this case.

I'm not devastated. Just on the verge of freaking out as practically all the files that I will need to get through with this week--and even the next--are all inside the bowels of that sleeping machine.

This is a sanity break. Am still cross-eyed from trying to edit a long-overdue briefing paper that would be better off if rewritten from scratch instead. I'm suppressing the urge to surf for J-pop videos on Youtube. In a while, I will attempt to make breakfast while navigating around an elusive leak in the kitchen sink. In around three hours, I'll be at the office writing a press release on the environmental catastrophes left in the aftermath of typhoon Reming.

I would've wanted to start this week with a barrage of rants about retiring PCs and the limitations of Vulca-seal, but realize that it's absurd to do so when other people are having it worse elsewhere. While we from Metro Manila (along with the ubiquitous billboards erected by companies) have been generally spared from the wrath of typhoon Reming, our toiling brothers and sisters from Southern Luzon and the Visayas regions have not.

My office mate has had the roof of his house and his small pig pen literally blown off as the storm hit his hometown last Friday, as with most of his neighbors. A cathedral in Marinduque reportedly had its roof swept away by the bluster of winds. The peoples of Marinduque, Albay, and Mindoro Oriental--some of the areas most adversely devastated by poverty, militarization, and large-scale mining operations-have had it the worst, absorbing the full impact of the storm. The exacerbating impacts of destructive and unstable mining projects such as Lafayette's polymetallic mine in Rapu-Rapu island (which already had two mine spills) has yet to be fully disclosed by the government and companies which are scampering to protect their trading stocks from plummeting.

A forwarded message from one e-group recounts text messages from eyewitnesses of the tragic mudslides in Albay:

"...Grabe talaga! Am here in Bicol and witnessed how it was. And yung mga nasa likod ng factory nalunod and natabunan ang mga bahay. Parang dagat na...

...Horrible talaga...ang dami patay. Ang mga bahay natabunan ng mga sand, mud and boulders...

...lagpas sa haus namin ang muddy water. Ang dami patay sa Guinobatan.

----sa Ligao, for the first time, umabot sa 2nd floor sahig yong baha na maputik talaga. Kahit minsan ay di pa nangyari yun.

...sabi naman ng ate kong doktora sa Albay provincial hospital since 1965 pa, sanay na siya sa nakakakita ng patay, pero sa biyahe nila from Legaspi to Ligao, kinilabutan siya sa mga nakita nila along the way: patay, bahay na may konting tuktok na lang ang nakikita, and similar scenes."

The responses to the catastrophes left in the aftermath of Reming only underscore the priorities of those in governance. Foreign governments and international institutions have sent in their expressions of support. Concerned citizens and even the New Peoples' Army are helping out in the relief work for typhoon victims. But while the Arroyo administration is reportedly processing the initial tranch of the rehabilitation fund after belatedly declaring a state of calamity yesterday, it seems that GMA's allies are still more interested in pursuing plans for Charter Change than ensuring that the people will be able to withstand and be less adversely affected by other natural calamities in the future.

How typical. Typhoons may come and go, but some things (like this blasted government!) never change.

Shared Perspectives

Published this week in www.bulatlat.com

Up in arms over the assassinations of activists and civilians under the Arroyo administration, visual and performance artists have joined hands to organize Tutok Karapatan, an art project aiming to initiate dialogue and intervention among the visual arts community on issues pertaining to political, ecological, social, and human rights.

Tutok Karapatan’s first university-based exhibition, Perspektiba, is currently on view at the University of Santo Tomas Fra Angelico Gallery on España Avenue, Manila until Dec. 2. The show opened last Nov. 21.

Perspektiba is comprised of works that reflect on the overtures of state violence: literal and metaphorical dislocations, disappearances, and demises associated with the rising wave of political repression in the Philippines. It was initially conceptualized as a show which would chronicle the making of martyrs and heroes vis a vis struggles against reigns of terror. However, in the course of the artists’ exposure and interactions with victims or survivors of human rights violations, the show evolved into a general remonstration against the cases of political repression besieging the nation.

In particular, Perspektiba addresses the continuous political assassinations of members of the legal opposition and progressive people’s organizations under the Arroyo administration. From 2001 to date, over 791 activists and civilians all over the country have been murdered inside their homes or in transit to work, usually by masked, motorcycle-riding gunmen. Others have been killed and considered as “collateral damage” in the course of the government's military campaigns in the provinces: strafed or intentionally shot at by soldiers, tortured or summarily executed.

While local and international organizations, non-government entities, parliamentarians and personalities are sounding the alarm over President Gloria Arroyo's refusal to stop the six-year killing spree, artists have added their voices to the growing clamor for truth and justice by producing works addressing the murders.

Plaster casts of bullets

Lyra Garcellano sets up an installation entitled No Letup from ink on paper riddled with plaster casts of bullets, alluding to the shower of steel mercilessly unleashed by the state machinery against hundreds of fallen human targets. White Lies, an installation by the multi-media artist collective UGAT-Lahi, delivers a symbolic indictment against the whitewash perpetuated by the state machinery in response to the killings. Pale dummies are piled on a bed, one covered up by the others, enveloping the gravity of the murders in a blanket of lies.

Anak ng Tinapay, an installation piece by Mark Ramsel Salvatus III, utilizes food art and video documentation to gather public reactions to the killings. Salvatus enjoins the audience to partake of bread shaped into human figures and guns, displayed on a glass cupboard. The artist documents the entire selection and feeding process among gallery visitors in this premeditated “taste test”, delivering a tongue-in-cheek message against the carnage and militarization that the public is forced to consume daily. Neither Left nor Right by Claro Ramirez makes use of counters to parody the propensity to treat the killings as mere statistics, as figures that mechanically rise or ebb with the political tide.

Satiric commentary against the military’s involvement as a perpetrator or accomplice to the killings is reinforced in the work Sir Yes Sir (a common phrase used in military-style drills to signify subservience to one’s superiors) by Jef Carnay. This interactive installation is comprised of a mechanized, hand-made dog (or tuta, a popular symbol for lackeys) which bows at the viewer’s patting and dips its head into a feed bowl filled with miniature human figurines.

While these works were produced by young artists who were perhaps only toddlers at the onset of the dictatorship in 1972, an oil-on-canvas work entitled Daet Massacre by Social Realist painter Gene de Loyola attests to the chilling similarities between incidents during Martial Law and today. De Loyola depicts a scene from a massacre of unarmed protesters in Daet, Camarines Norte in 1981, shortly after the “paper lifting” of Martial Law that same year. Shot at by police forces during the dispersal, the protesters, with the dead and injured in their ranks, are depicted against a blood-red backdrop, with one bearing a placard calling for the boycott of an impending election believed to be fraudulent. Nearly 25 years later, this scene would be reenacted in the bloody dispersals of activists calling for President Arroyo's ouster in Bicol and in the massacre of striking sugar mill and farm workers in Hacienda Luisita on Nov. 16, 2004.

The current assaults on press freedom are also addressed in the work by multi-media artist Ed Manalo. A typewriter – a common symbol for writers and journalists-- is tightly-wrapped in a straitjacket of cellophane sheets, alluding to the muzzling of the press under the Arroyo administration. Acupuncture needles piercing through the cellophane may represent both anguish and healing in response to the iniquities that the muzzling of expressive freedom has brought about.

Not possible to ignore

The ferocity and frequency of such atrocities has reached the point where it is no longer possible to ignore the gravity of the entire situation. Buen Calubayan demonstrates this through a sound installation on an armchair. “Hindi naman talaga kailangan ang mata upang makita ang realidad” (You don’t need eyes to see reality), the artist asserts. One only needs to listen to the cues pointing to an entire epic of injustice.

On the other hand, many nevertheless remain blind and deaf to social iniquities. The Parable of Those Who Refuse to See, an installation piece made out of wood cut-outs and video animation by Don Salubayba, sets up a parade of shadowy figures on the venue’s glass façade as metaphors for repressive societal structures whose influence pervades up to the present: the fraile of the Church, the ubiquitous figure of Uncle Sam, a bloated government functionary, and three blind mice led by the recognizable Mickey Mouse. The ultimate victim here remains the figure of Juan dela Cruz, bent and hobbling in the foreground.

The works in Perspektiba also depict the victims of such rights violations. Pyeta by Emmanuel Garibay utilizes the undertones of Catholic iconography in the Madonna and Child image in his work, where a woman, mouthless and clad in a black mourning shroud, holds up a portrait of a man (her son? Husband? Father?) crowned with thorns. Viewed in the context of the Philippine human rights situation, the absence of a mouth, symbolic of the right to expression, raises questions: Is the woman a metaphor for Inang Bayan (Mother Land), denied of the right to speak or to be heard, with the death of her sons? Or are words insufficient to express the pathos and anguish of losing a loved one? Garibay’s depiction of the victim of persecution as Christ crowned with thorns likewise elevates him/her to the status of a martyr, a hero/ine worthy of honor and emulation.

Fascism

Perspektiba testifies to how the propensity for fascism is systematically embedded not only in policy but also in consciousness. These histories and narratives of rights violations are contextualized in light of ongoing peoples’ struggles for national liberation and self-determination, as seen in the installation work Rebo (Series 2) by Social Realist veteran Antipas “Biboy” Delotavo, Jr. In the work, Delotavo wraps the letters ‘R-E-B-O-L’ in bloodied gauze bandages, military camouflage, and flags of the United States and the Philippines.

The letters, still to be completed, may comprise the word rebo, slang for the word rebolusyon or revolution, or conversely, the word eboluyson, the entire historical process of development implied by the clash of societies and classes. This historical—and repeated—emergence of fascist repression, born out of the material exigencies of imperial expansion and its ideological justifications, is addressed in Jose Tence Ruiz’s Supa series, where figures of Mussolini and a Nazi dominate the picture plane solidly filled with red.

Nevertheless, many continue to believe that another world without exploitation and repression is possible, and work to achieve it. The aspirations behind this driving force is reflected in works such as Boy Dominguez’ Salladan (Ancestral Domain). The artist, himself a member of a national minority, represents the aspirations of Filipino indigenous peoples to a society where development is based on the peoples’ needs and welfare. The work also underscores the interdependence of human, cultural, environmental rights in building a more secure world for the majority of the population.


Taken as a whole, the works in Perspektiba attest to the growing discontent and clamor among the visual arts community against the assaults on human rights under the Arroyo administration. Hopefully, this continuing process of “dialogue, exploration and intervention” that Tutok Karapatan hopes to initiate will also prompt a younger generation of Filipino and Filipina artists to question the roots of political repression. Bulatlat

Hungry and Idle, Pathetically

You Are a Boston Creme Donut

You have a tough exterior. No one wants to mess with you. But on the inside, you're a total pushover and completely soft. You're a traditionalist, and you don't change easily. You're likely to eat the same doughnut every morning, and pout if it's sold out.

What Donut Are You?

You Are Flan Pocky

Your attitude: modern and offbeat East meets west... sweet meets salty. You're a pro at bringing unusual combos together!

What Flavor Pocky Are You?

What is the 202th IB doing in Pandacan

The text below was forwarded earlier this morning through email, sounding the alarm over the reported presence of military troops in Pandacan, Manila.

The AFP will surely have a lot of explaining to do if the report turns out to be true. What the hell is the 202^th IB—composed of combat-ready soldiers-- doing there? Protecting the oil depot from an imaginary “terrorist” attack? Maybe they just wanted to hold counter-insurgency operations a little closer to Aguinaldo instead of some far-flung barrio, just for the heck of a change? Maybe they were just darn bored with their lives and decided to go on a tour of the city? Maybe the national government is secretly embarking on a cost-cutting program and is using idle AFP troops as extra MMDA personnel?

The answer may be literally nearer to the name Pandacan. No one but the Pandac in the nearby Palace, President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, will benefit from these military maneuvers in such populated areas. Is GMA's camp so spooked out of President Bush's post-Halloween mid-term electoral fallout that they are using troops to create a net of intimidation against the legal opposition in the cities, before the 2007 elections come around? Is something more vicious being cooked up?

What is reportedly happening in Pandacan, I'm sure, is no different from what has been happening in Mindoro, Tarlac, Pampanga, Batangas, Bulacan, Bicol, Sulu, Samar, and many other places where the killings of activists have multiplied over the past few months. The military in my province have already set up a sona. They called a meeting in the elementary school to be attended by all males above 16 years old. They set up checkpoints at the entry and exit points of the barangay and held base near the highway. They said that they would be staying indefinitely and would be leaving two or three troops per sitio when they finally leave--as if anyone in her right mind was begging for them to remain.

Tanga lang ang magtataka o natutuwa sa paglipana ng militar sa ating mga komunidad. Dapat lamang na managawan ang taumbayan para sa pagpapalayas ng pesteng ahente ng pasismo sa ating mga tahanan. At hindi dapat pumayag ang mga matitinong sundalo na gamitin sila sa ganitong paraan ng gobyerno ni GMA.

Small-time connivers, big-time consequences

The breadth and extent of AFP interference in our communities is bad enough. It also doesn't help that there are absolutely spineless local officials who consent to the militarization of their areas of jurisdiction. Barangay captains, mayors, University officials, congressmen, who have not even dared utter a watery whimper of protest against this back-to-the-1970s state of political repression, irregardless of whether the consequences of their actions may spell out the difference between life or death for targets of military surveillance.

I have no absolutely respect whatsoever for such wimps! Nakakasuklam sila, they only serve as unwitting or intentional accomplices to the state of impunity and political repression that the Arroyo government is forcing down our throats. Their names should be jotted down and barred from holding any public office in the future, not even as a tanod.

Those “public servants” could very well have exercised their responsibilities as supposed “representatives” of their constituents and refused to let the military get away with what they do, with such impunity and brazenness. My brother-in-law recalled that there were other places in their province which the military couldn't infiltrate, precisely because their barangay officials rightly refused to give in to such pressure. Yung isang barangay captain nakipaghamunan ng barilan na lang kung papasok ang AFP sa kanyang teritoryo. Unfortunately, many others do not have the same kind of guts and sense. Others who do, such as Naujan Vice-Mayor Atty. Juvy Magsino or Tarlac city councilor Abel Ladera, are treacherously killed by the same assassins they have protested against.

Walang ipinagkaiba ang mga mga nagbibingi-bingihan at nagbubulag-bulagang opisyales na ito sa walang kwentang Melo Commission at Task Force Usig. Pagkatapos, kapag may pinaslang na naman na miyembro ng ANAKPAWIS o ng BAYAN Muna ng mga armadong naka-motor, kapag may mga dinakip ng mga naka-fatigue, kapag may pinatay na aktibista tulad nina Isaias, Choy, at marami pang iba, iilang lang sila ng ulo at sasabihing wala silang kinalaman sa mga pangyayari, na walang koneksyon ang mga pagpaslang sa paglipana ng militar at ng mga intel sa ating mga komunidad?

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Forwarded through email:

May MARTIAL LAW na ba sa Maynila?

Ano ang dahilan ng pagtigil ng 202th IB ng AFP sa Pandacan?

May apat na araw ng nakatigl ang 2 platoon ng 202th IB ng AFP sa 8 baragay sa Pandacan Manila. Nakafull uniform at nakapangcombat, dala ang mahahaba at matataas na kalibre ng baril ang bitbit ng mga sundalo ng AFP. Ang 8 barangay sa Pandacan na nakadeploy ang mga nasabing sundalo ay sa Brgy 870, 871, 872, 868,866,867 at sa Baranagy Pandacan. Nagmistulang barracks at Headquarters nila ang mga barangay hall? Bakit sila nasa pandacan? Bakit sa pandacan?

Ayon sa mga residente, hindi maipaliwanag ng mga sundalo ang kanilang tungkulin sa pagtigil sa Pandacan. Ayon sa kanila nais daw nilang alamin ang opinion ng mga tao sa pamamalakad ng gobyerno? At tutulong daw sila sa peace and order. Ngunit sa kanilang pagroronda at pagbahay bahay sa umaga at gabi ay itinatanong nila sa mga residente kung meron daw bang mga membro ng Partylist sa nasabing lugar.? Meron day bang mga sumasama sa rally? Meron daw mga aktibista?

Ayon pa sa mga sundalo, Sila daw ay hindi sasangkot sa gulo sa komunidad, dahil police matters daw ito, pero kung kakailanganin ay mapipilitan daw silang makealam? Ano kayang gulo ang sinsabi ng mga sundalo? Sila na ang tanod sa gabi, sila pa ang magpapatupad ng mga serbisyong kinakailangan sa komunidad.

Hinahanap nila ang mga kasapi ng BAYAN MUNA, ANAKPAWIS, GABRIELA at ANAKBAYAN, “ayon sa mga sundalo. Dahil daw ang mga nasabing partylist ay madaling malapitan sa mga problema ng bayan at tumutulong daw sila”. Sa isang ordinaryong tao, madaling maunawaan na ang mga nasabing dahilan {paghahanap sa mga aktibista} ang tunay na pakay ng pagtigil ng mga sundalo sa komunidad.

Pinangunahan ni Major Cabas at Lt. Col Feliciano ang mga sundalo. Sa kanilang mission order sila daw ay mananatili ng dalawang lingo sa komunidad. Matapos daw ay may papalit na sa kanila at maaari daw na manatili hanggang enero ng isang taon? Sadarating na linggo, Nobyembre 12, nagpapatawag sila ng pagpupulong sa mga residente, sa ganap na 8 ng umaga sa bawat nasabing Barangay.

Inaanyayahan namin ang mga kapatid sa MEDIA at mga tagapagtaguyod ng
karapatang pantao na puntahan ang nasabing mga Barangay sa Pandacan anumang oras mula ngayon.

Iyon Pala Ang Ibig Sabihin ng TAG

My very good friend Iris left a comment with the word "TAG" on it. Took some time for a social ignoramus like me to figure out what that actually meant, but now that I've been "tagged" to do so, here's my share of answers to that weird pass-on survey/questionnaire:

Seven things I want to do before I die

1. Write 30 to all the research and book projects I've conceptualized in the bathroom.
2. Know Japan and all of the 7,100 islands of the Philippines like the back of my hand.
3. Do my share in driving really eeevil people outta this planet!
4. Honor thy father and mother.
5. Understand why the world is what it is today.
6. Raise a kid with Gans, and teach him/her all we know.
7. Make art instead of writing about it.

Seven things I cannot do

1. Carry a tune successfully before a massive crowd (but how I wish I could. Oh well).
2. Wear ruffles. NOT in this lifetime!
3. Endure sycophants and know-it-alls. Freaks I can tolerate, pretenders not.
4. Kiss a frog (why should anyone?)
5. Be nice to the nasty denizens of this earth (head-butt and bitch back if ye must!)
6. Kiss ass as a career move, whether literally or figuratively.
7. Go beyond 1^st year college math.

Seven things that attract me to both a boy and a girl

1. Brains and sense. Why we can't have more of these types still beats me.
2. That beautiful but elusive human quality called kindness.
3. Frank, honest, and witty banter.
4. Commitment to work (A bit ho-hum but very crucial in the long run)
5. A keen sense of social justice.
6. Shared quirks (like a fondness for cats, booksales, disarray, and puns)
7. An honest, straightforward gaze (sounds funny, but there are indeed people who exhibit this quality, chinky-eyed people included)

Seven things that I say most often

1. Shne!
2. %^*$&$*(%£)%)%*&ng (insert name of government official here) , sana kunin na siya ni Lord.
3. Pa-edit nga!
4. Kelan ang deadline nyan? (Sabay kakamot sa ulo)
5. First thing in the morning: £$%*! (Insert time) na!
6. Hayup ka talaga! (to our dachshund, Pitoy)
7. Ayan, buhay pa naman (in response to the question, kamusta ka na?)

Seven books I love to read (for the nth time)

1. The Book of Embraces, by Eduardo Galeano
2. Venceremos, by Ernesto Guevarra (my copy illegally confiscated by some shitty post office official. May he be afflicted with egg-sized boils for the rest of his corrupt and hopefully short life!)
3. Foucault's Pendulum, by Umberto Eco
4. Art and Lies by Jeanette Winterson
5. Snow Country, by Yasunari Kawabata
6. The Painted Word, by Tom Wolfe (ya, the guy makes more sense than most art writers)
7. Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott (first full-length book my mom gave me as a kid, made a real impression ever since)

Seven movies I could watch over and over again
(not necessarily favorites, but only those I won’t tire of watching)

1. Orapronobis (the thin line between art and reality)
2. The Never-Ending Story (20 years after first watching it I can still hear its theme song in my head and dream about having Falcor for a pet, hehe)
3. Hotel Rwanda (a tribute to unexpected heroes and how shitty the UN and the US can get)
4. Azumi (will not lead you to the meaning of life but can keep you fully-awake on 8-hour bus trips, I guarantee)
5. Amelie (until it loses its novelty)
6. Life is Beautiful (it really is)
7. (Anything from Studio Ghibli!)

Seven people I'm tagging to do this survey

None. The darned chain ends with me!

Bagong post, lumang sulatin

After losing most of my back files to (now) non-functional floppy disks and house-hopping, I tried 'googling' (aba! verb na pala ito!), hoping to locate previous articles and art reviews I couldn't find copies of (archiving has recently become a pastime).

Some offhand results: old reviews of shows by Pete Jimenez, Rock Drilon, Briccio Santos, and Pete Daroy in the PDI, circa 2003. Art for Oust's Sake, an article for Bulatlat which I thoroughly enjoyed doing. And a review of Displaying Filipinos way back in 1998.

Also found the text of a tribute to Anakpawis Mindoro Oriental Secretary-General Isaias Manano Jr., who was murdered by assassins on April 28, 2004. Isaias, a dear friend, was among the first Anakpawis leaders to have been killed under the Arroyo administration during the 2004 elections. Th statistics have risen to atrocious highs since then; rarely does it sink in that the victims were real people with hopes, dreams and stories to tell.

Of Dissidents, Déjà vu and the DOJ

There was a forum on the ‘Cuban Five’ held a few days ago at UP Manila sponsored by Amistad, the Philippine-Cuban Friendship society. After rushing around QC the entire morning and afternoon, we figured that we could make it to the activity and went to attend.

I don’t know why, but entering the CAS Building in UP Manila for the first time suddenly filled me with saccharine distaste and dread. Maybe because of its startling nearness to the Department of Justice (both in terms of proximity, architectural structure and design motifs), which certain odious, ethically-unstable and morally-bankrupt mammals are known to inhabit on weekdays, office hours mostly (yuch!).

Maybe all had to do with the architectural history of the Padre Faura compound, where UP Manila, the PGH and the DOJ all are. But it was an eerie perception nonetheless: stepping into the cramped CAS Building and feeling as if I had been transported into the bowels of the Justice Secretary’s fiefdom just a stone’s throw or a bakod away. A few months back, after a picket in front of the DOJ to protest the political harassment against Ka Bel, I spent a few minutes inside the DOJ building to look for an acquaintance, secretly hoping that I wouldn’t come across my favorite character, a certain antiquated loony, there.

Anyway, we managed to make it in time for the forum, catching the first few minutes of a documentary on the five Cuban nationals arrested in Florida in 1998 and convicted by the US federal court in Miami on more than 20 counts, facing life sentences. For monitoring the movements of exiled groups suspected of carrying out US-sponsored terrorist activities which have killed around three thousand Cubans, the Cuban Five were subjected to a year and a half in solitary confinement while the trial was ongoing and are now jailed in total isolation from the world. But in Cuba and in other countries, thousands of people are clamoring for their release and hailing the five men as heroes for their motherland.

The appalling judicial spectacles in the case of the Cuban Five in the US were all too familiar, hit too close to home: after an Appeals Court in Georgia unanimously overturned the Miami court’s ruling convicting the Five, its plenary inexplicably and suddenly issued a reconsideration of its finding August last year. This indefinitely extends the Five’s unjust detention—definitely an unwelcome development since they have already spent around eight years alone in jail to date.

Suddenly, the US court’s flipflop painfully reminded me of Ka Crispin Beltran’s legal quest for liberty under the Arroyo dictatorship, the prospects of gaining a just and prompt resolution seem to be equivalent to winning the Sweepstakes jackpot thrice in a row (in short: asa ka pa!).

Take this: a day after the declaration of a ‘State of Emergency’, Ka Bel is accosted by fully-armed police and ‘invited for questioning’ to the Camp Crame. There, he is arrested and detained using an antiquated and void 21-year old warrant (normally you’d think that such a document would have more historical than utilitarian value). Absolutely absurd! His lawyers prepare to haul him out of jail. Then, in the middle of the night, Ka Bel is brought to a QC court where charges of sedition are to be filed against him. His lawyers patiently point out that Ka Bel as a congressman has immunity from arrest in such cases, so please quit the pathetic charade and set him free. The police don’t, and keep him in solitary detention instead. Then, Ka Bel is ‘invited for a medical check-up at the PNP Hospital’ but is brought to the CIDG instead where this time and against his will, (tadaa!!!) DOJ prosecutors hold another “inquest” where rebellion charges concocted out of thin air are used to further justify his arrest and detention. Given a chance, maybe the DOJ would have also accused Ka Bel of killing Jose Rizal and Andres Bonifacio.

Mga loko talaga. Kung ako lang ang tatanungin, hindi na dapat sineryoso yang DOJ at ang PNP. If it were only that easy to just snub their existence and simply consign them to the dumping grounds and garbage impactors of history for being such freaks! But the sad reality is that the state is in a position to use coercive force. It’s not a simple case of deciding to ‘make patol’ or not (as GMA would say in her colegiala Tagalog), or saying ‘deeeal’ or ‘no deeeeeal!’ (complete with Kris Aquino’s hand gestures) and walking out of the studio, chin held up high. Ka Bel’s in jail for eight months and counting, his captors from the PNP, DOJ and the Palace aren’t.

If it were only that easy to say that Ka Bel’s illegal arrest and arbitrary detention will eventually be vindicated by the courts. The legal battle for Ka Bel’s freedom, unfortunately, only showcases how dysfunctional the Philippine justice system can get under the Arroyo (or any other anti-people) administration. Some notes during the past eight months of Ka Bel’s continuing ordeal: The first judge junks the rebellion charge against the Batasan 5 and allows Ka Bel’s much-needed transfer to a hospital, and is suspiciously asked by the DOJ to inhibit herself from the case. The case is raffled off to a second judge who, in a three-sentence order and in undue haste, affirms that there is probable cause in Ka Bel’s case and issues the equivalent of a retroactive warrant of arrest—then suddenly inhibits from the case when Ka Bel’s lawyers indignantly protest the ruling. The third judge reverses first judge’s decision and consolidates Ka Bel’s case with that of the Batasan 6. The fourth judge only adds another rubber stamp to Ka Bel’s detention by denying the Motion for Reconsideration on second judge’s decision on probable cause.

Ka Bel’s lawyers are now planning to bring the case up to the Supreme Court. Ka Bel also recently filed a case at the Ombudsman against his captors, but I’m not getting my hopes high in the aftermath of the Ombudswoman’s lutong macao ruling on the controversial Mega-Pacific deal.

All throughout these developments, the DOJ and its prosecutors have done absolutely nothing to ensure the dispensation of due process, or even humanitarian consideration. It has adjudged Ka Bel guilty even in the presence of incontrovertible evidence proving otherwise. It has filed charge after charge, no matter how fabricated, just to ensure that Ka Bel stays in jail. It has called for a “speedy trial”, at a time when the Batasan 6 have appealed to suspend the hearings, as the Supreme Court said. It has even coldly opposed Ka Bel’s appeal to be transferred to a REAL hospital (the PNP Hospital being nothing but a glorified first aid kit) for urgent medical treatment.

The details of their detention and their legal struggles for liberty are sordid and appalling enough, but this has not, in any way, broken the morale or the fighting spirits of political prisoners such as the Cuban Five and of Ka Bel. They may be on different sides of the globe, but they share the same dream that another world is possible: a world where imperialist domination shall cease to be, where resources and services may be more equitably distributed among the people and among countries, where people will be able to live out their full potential as human beings and not be tied down to problems as basic as hunger and survival. They have a clear perspective of what they are struggling for, and will not easily bow to the repressive mechanisms of the colluding powers-that-be.

-----------------------

Speaking of Cuba, Granma International recently published a short article by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (yes, of the One Hundred Years of Solitude fame) entitled The Fidel Castro Whom I Know. By all means, log on now to Granma’s site and do read the work, it’s an extraordinary, awe-inspiring and intimate profile of the Fidel Castro whom you and I on this side of the impoverished world do not know.

Some excerpts:

“HIS devotion to the word. His power of seduction. He goes to seek out problems where they are. The impetus of inspiration is very much part of his style. Books reflect the breadth of his tastes very well. He stopped smoking to have the moral authority to combat tobacco addiction. He likes to prepare food recipes with a kind of scientific fervor. He keeps himself in excellent physical condition with various hours of gymnastics daily and frequent swimming. Invincible patience. Ironclad discipline. The force of his imagination stretches him to the unforeseen. As important as learning to work is to learn how to rest…”

“…He has the habit of firing rapid questions….[that] he makes in instantaneous bursts until discovering the whys and wherefores of the whys and wherefores of the final whys and wherefores. When a visitor from Latin America gave him a hasty figure on the rice consumption of his compatriots, he made his mental calculations and said: “How odd, each person eats four pounds of rice per day.” His masterly tactic is to ask about things that he knows, to confirm his information. And in certain cases to measure the caliber of his interlocutor, and deal with him/her accordingly…”

“…When he talks with people in the street, his conversation regains the expressiveness and crude frankness of genuine affection. They call him: Fidel. They surround him without risks, they address him informally, they argue with him, they contradict him, they claim him, with a channel of immediate transmission from which the truth gushes forth. It is then that one discovers the unusual human being that the reflection of his own image does not let us see. This is the Fidel Castro that I believe I know. A man of austere habits and insatiable illusions, with an old-fashioned formal education of cautious words and subdued tones and incapable of conceiving any idea that is not colossal…

“…He dreams that his scientists will find the final cure for cancer and has created a foreign policy of world reach in an island that is 84 times smaller than that of his principal enemy. He has the conviction that the greatest achievement of human beings is the solid training of their conscience and that moral incentives, more than material ones, are capable of changing the world and driving history.”

Collegian Under Assault

I spent a substantial portion of my college life writing and editing for the Philippine Collegian. If only for sentimental reasons, being in Kule yielded experiences that I wouldn’t have traded for anything else in the world: having late-night meaning-of-life conversations, interviewing all sorts of people, documenting events in Diliman and beyond, negotiating a libel case, and engaging in confrontations of all types and intensities. Colleagues who I worked with until the crack of dawn became my closest friends or comrades—Mykel, Raffy, Boom, Iris, Faj, Jordan, Charlie, and all. And it was in the course of doing research for articles and finding speakers for the Kule’s weekly EDs (educational discussions) where I met my husband.

I had my share of political awakenings through Kule. It was here, in Solidaridad and in CEGP where we worked with other student papers struggling against repression, harassment, technical deficiencies, and financial difficulties. Through Kule, we met activists such as Donato Continente, now free after being unjustly jailed on false charges for over fifteen years.

For all the locking of horns that being committed entails, being in Kule eventually made me realize how sweet and precious it was to be able to freely fight for the right principles. And how imperative it was to protect that freedom at all costs.

Which is why I was flabbergasted, if only for a few seconds, to hear from a staffer during the September 21 rally how that the UP administration has blocked Kule from printing its issues for over a month already. Unbelievable. Never in recent history has the Kule been ever subjected to such outright and actual financial hostaging by the administration.The fact that the Kule’s funds are now being witheld against the will of this year’s editorial board only speaks of the blunt and blatant coercion being employed by University officials.

Up to this writing, the administration reportedly refuses to disburse the Kule’s printing funds. From being among the three weekly student papers circulated throughout the Philippines, this year’s Kule has been confined to merely uploading updates on its website and e-group. A few days back, its writers began reading aloud their articles in the AS Lobby, in the absence of an actual printed issue. I’m not sure if Kule has resorted to DIY publishing as a peryodikit, but wouldn’t be surprised if it does so soon. For all the trouble they’ve been through for the past few weeks, it’s admirable for the present Kule staff to be fighting for their right to remain free.

Never would I consent to the Collegian being manacled like a slave. And, I hope, neither do you. Fight for freedom and autonomy, support the campaign at www.philippinecollegian.net.

33 Daw (sfx: evil laugh)

You Are 33 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

What Age Do You Act?

Incarcerated But Undaunted

(published in www.bulatlat.com)

Crispin Beltran, 73 years old and hypertensive, could be mistaken for an ordinary senior citizen confined at the Philippine Heart Center (PHC) for Asia in Quezon City. But having two armed Philippine National Police (PNP) personnel stationed outside his room and their companions prowling the nearby corridors shows otherwise.

Beltran, veteran labor leader turned parliamentarian, will be spending his fourth month of detention under police custody at the Room 429 of this hospital. To date, he has already spent two months at the PHC, two months at the General Hospital of Camp Crame, and one week in solitary imprisonment since his arrest by the PNP last February 25. Yet Beltran, or Ka Bel (Comrade Bel) as he is more popularly known, generally remains undaunted, knowing that these days only signify a lull before the storm.

At Camp Crame

Inside Ka Bel’s room, it is impossible not to be reminded of the political crisis. Stickers bearing the slogan Free Ka Bel Now! End political harassment! are all over the room. Decorating the bare walls is a black-and-white poster with the six party-list representatives from Bayan Muna (People First), Anakpawis (Toiling Masses) and Gabriela Women’s Party (GWP). Hung next to his bedside are two canvas ‘bibs’, with the words P125, Ipaglaban! (Fight for a P125 [legislated wage increase for workers]) and Cha-Cha, Ibasura! (Junk Charter Change!).

These are the same issues that Ka Bel has been advocating as Anakpawis party-list representative before being arrested without a warrant by the PNP on February 25, 2006, a day after President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo declared a state of national emergency through Presidential Proclamation (PP) 1017.

PP 1017 was later declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court of the Philippines. But Beltran continues to be detained under false and fabricated charges of inciting to rebellion—a charge that the Department of Justice (DOJ) also slapped against at least 51 other individuals, including Beltran's colleagues from the progressive party-list bloc in the House of Representatives.

Beltran was the only one among the six who was caught and detained at Camp Crame. Despite suffering from hypertension and a minor stroke two years ago, Ka Bel was forcibly detained in an isolated cell at Camp Crame and subjected to a sham inquest proceeding a day after.

At first, the PNP jailed Ka Bel at the Custodial Center of Camp Crame for a week, treating him like a high-profile criminal. He was confined in a solitary cell: a bare rectangular space measuring around 2 meters by 4 meters with steel bars on one end. Fully-armed police personnel guarded the hallways, and food was served tied up in little plastic bags, he said.

“Kung ano ang sitwasyon ko noong 1982 ay ganoon din ngayong 2006,” (My situation in 1982 is the same as now in 2006.) Ka Bel recalled of that period of incarceration at the Custodial Center.

Beltran was jailed and tortured as a political prisoner under Martial Law, along with the late Kilusang Mayo Uno (KMU or May First Movement) Chairperson Felixberto “Ka Bert” Olalia, in Camp Crame in 1982. Ka Bel eventually escaped from prison and fled the city, while Ka Bert eventually succumbed to a heart attack while in prison. The rebellion charges filed against Beltran were eventually dropped by the Aquino administration after Pres. Ferdinand Marcos was overthrown by People Power in 1986.

A detention cell

Despite his resolve to remain strong, Ka Bel experiences recurring nightmares about being tortured again and even assassinated while in the Custodial Center.

This contributed to the further deterioration of the 73-year old solon’s health. By March 2, Ka Bel's dangerously high blood pressure levels compelled the police to transfer him to the camp's General Hospital—not much of a difference, in retrospect, as the place did not have adequate medical facilities or services.

The transfer did little to lessen his agitated state. Nonchalant and inconsistent medical services forced them to double-check his health, Beltran's nightmares about being assassinated while in police custody continued, and sudden incursions by police clad in full battle gear into his room kept him in a state of red alert and worry, he said. Reporters were also barred from visiting his room.

“This is not a hospital, this is a detention cell,” Ka Bel and his family members said.

“Sa PNP General Hospital, wala akong panahon para mag-relax. Palaging okupado ang isipan at apprehensive kami sa mga guwardiya, dahil nasa bituka kami ng kaaway,” ( I do not have time to relax while at the PNP General Hospital. My mind is always occupied and we are apprehensive of the guards. We are right inside the enemy’s territory.) Beltran said.

To keep him distracted, Ka Bel's family and staff began bringing him newspapers and documents for him to read. An old typewriter and pad paper were brought into the room, where he would compose letters to friends and colleagues and statements to media about various issues. A laptop belonging to one of his kids was also brought in, as Ka Bel wanted to learn how to use a computer.

Change of scenery

On April 24, the Makati Regional Trial Court finally granted Beltran permission to transfer to the Heart Center for humanitarian reasons, despite the objections of the PNP and the DOJ. After nearly two days of waiting, Ka Bel was finally transferred to Room 429 of the PHC.

The transfer to the Heart Center was a change of scenery for Ka Bel. There, he was finally able to undergo a battery of much-needed medical tests, monitoring and rest.

It was also there where Ka Bel spent his first Labor Day away from the traditional street demonstrations in Manila. As a former chairperson of the KMU, the largest militant labor center in the Philippines, Beltran registered a “perfect attendance” at all Labor Day rallies since People Power 1 in 1986. His frustration and sadness over this year’s absence was somewhat eased by a fellow patient's celebration of her birthday party on May 1, in the adjoining room, he recalled.

Deprived of the right to go home, Ka Bel's family and 27 grandchildren regularly attend to him at the hospital, bringing fruits and running small errands for their Lolo Di (Grandfather Di). On weekends, his grandchildren cuddle up on Ka Bel's bed to watch cartoon reruns and sports matches on TV.

During the long afternoons, Ka Bel avidly watches boxing, his favorite sport, on television. His love for the sport is such that even his family and visitors find it hard to distract him from glancing at the blow-by-blow matches every now and then.

Ka Bel's family time is occasionally interrupted as visitors from all walks of life drop by during hospital hours: legal counsels and human rights lawyers, activists, congressional staff, religious leaders, fellow solons and government officials, labor and peasant leaders, foreign visitors, writers, students, and—somewhat ironically--people seeking medical assistance.

Virtual office

Ka Bel has been kept immobile by his detention, but strives to keep his body and mind strong. Although he devotes an hour each morning for a few rounds of push-ups and stretching exercises along the hospital corridors, Ka Bel said that is still a far cry from his previous dawn “work-outs” of planting vegetables at home as a practicing farmer before going to Congress in the morning.

“Dito [sa ospital], hindi ako gaanong pinapawisan,” (Here in the hospital, I do not sweat a lot from working out.) Ka Bel said, obviously missing the small plot of soil and vegetables he has carefully tended for months.

Nowadays, Ka Bel is usually clad in the PHC's standard hospital gown and slippers. But he quickly dons a red Anakpawis cap with a small Congressional seal, whenever visitors arrive.

This hospital room has also turned into a virtual office. Ka Bel spends his extra time poring over newspapers and books, as he used to during breaks at the House of Representatives. He keeps a can full of pens and pencils beside him, to underline important passages in news stories and quotes.

Barred from attending events ordinary citizens are free to go to, Ka Bel keeps himself updated on the political and economic developments of the day by constantly monitoring the news. Stationed next to his medicines are stacks of documents and reading materials: newspapers, congressional reports, legal documents and books. A small television is kept on for most of the day, and Ka Bel's trusty old radio set is occasionally turned on in order to monitor radio reports.

Prevented from visiting his constituents, the people have taken it upon themselves to go to Ka Bel. Pickets, masses, and group visits are frequently held outside the hospital, the largest to date being a 200-strong strong contingent of peasants from Central Luzon and Southern Tagalog last week.

The hospital room is also turning to be a virtual library. A voracious reader, Ka Bel also finished reading several books while in detention. He barely finished with John Perkins' Confessions of an Economic Hit Man and the handbook Health for the People published by the Council for Health and Development, when he picked up Dante Simbulan's The Modern Principalia and Ibon Foundation's Empty Promises, Empty Stomachs.

Visitors also drop by to give him reading materials. The copies of The Poverty of Memory: Essays on History and Empire (by Red Constantino) and Renato Constantino: A Life Revisited (Rosalinda Pineda-Ofreneo), for instance, are gifts. Outside the room, Ka Bel's custodians are also occasionally seen reading pocketbooks to fight boredom.

Raging against complacency

Despite the lull he experiences in between court hearings, one can sense fire burning inside Ka Bel's calm exterior, especially at this time of intense human rights violations against activists.

“Gusto kong makaganti,” (I want to get even.) he said whenever he hears of more extrajudicial killings of activists, many of whom he has known personally.

At times, sadness and anger overwhelms him whenever visitors and comrades arrive to share stories. Ka Bel's voice breaks, and he temporarily excuses himself for a few minutes inside the comfort room.

Yet the veteran labor leader finds inspiration in the fact that younger mass leaders of progressive organizations continue to remain undaunted and militant despite intensifying political repression.

“They are generally dedicated. Hindi sila natatakot,” (They are not afraid.) Ka Bel said of this younger generation of leaders, perhaps seeing in them the qualities he possessed as a trade union leader decades ago.

Among other things, Ka Bel is now looking forward to critiquing President Arroyo's upcoming State of the Nation Address (SONA) as Congress resumes the remainder of its sessions this July.

“GMA will be drumming up the false gains of her labor export policy and development councils. She will be reiterating her so-called God-given qualities for the Presidency and brag about her non-existent accomplishments, which is so insensitive in the midst of so much landlessness and poverty among the people,” Ka Bel said.

The Arroyo administration may have temporarily prevented Ka Bel from fulfilling his duties as a duly-elected party-list representative of the toiling masses. But from the looks of it, this temporary spate of political repression has affirmed Crispin Beltran's resolve to prepare for a longer fight ahead. Ka Bel may have been slightly immobilized by his arrest and incarceration, but he remains unbent and unbound, remembering how periods such as these have always signified the lull before the coming storm.

Photo above by Jes Aznar

salvaged poem

Reflections on a damp evening in a distant land

You exhibit a translucency
On nights such as these:

Tonight, as smoke
Descends on stars,

When the moon
Is a sliver of nectar
On a dew-spattered plain,

Rumors of exits
Stain monsoons

And seep through mists
Obscuring mountains.

In these dim nights of
Inchoate sadness, you are
Real: wafts of sunlight
Streaked with dust-motes; livid, like the glare
Of languid afternoons. Without you, the night
Acquires a solitary luminescence
As with transience, or rage

or silence.

Unsettling, how the recall of your face

blazes like braziers

On nights such as these.

*ca. 2000. dug this up from the archives of an old moldy notebook. i rededicate this to erika salang, whose valiant story continues to humble us and remind us of the whys and hows.

A Multitude of Muses

Whom the Muses endow, they endow bountifully. In this year's Walong Filipina exhibition last March, the Liongoren Gallery features women artists who have been precisely, bountifully endowed with a multitude of talents spanning the range of arts, and who have chosen to carve their own paths apart from that delineated by the traditional and the predictable.

This year's Walong Filipina exhibition pays homage to a wide range of arts and cultural disciplines. It, for instance, is notable in the sense that it has given space to photography, installation, and graphic art by Filipina cultural workers, as well as focus on women artists who have chosen to depict national minorities and their respective cultures as their subjects. The show has also provided space to women cultural workers who, while already recognized in other fields of the arts, continue to practice their vocations alongside their personal art-production.

Traditional genre such as portraits and landscapes also populate the Walong Filipina show, although not wholly in the predictable sense of the word. The woman artists in this show who utilize traditional artistic media and techniques nonetheless produce fresh images through their choice and depiction of their respective subject matter.

In her Taal Series, for instance, nurse and gallery owner Rollie Yusi utilizes her mastery of watercolour techniques to depict delicate vistas of the popular tourist destination. Taal On A Clear Day, for instance, is modelled through overlapping washes that delineate sky from sea; nuances of pigment evoke the whiff of breeze wafting through coconut leaves, the calm lapping of wind upon lake, islands unfolding through the haze. Works lightly tinged with rose and purple evoke the transition between dawn, dusk, or the calm before a storm. Yusi's enchanting 'lakescapes', so to speak, defamiliarize and make distant a site that has continually been occupying the State's glossy and tourism-oriented ad spiels.

Multi-awarded singer-songwriter Cynthia Alexander alludes to personal narratives in her paintings through the poetic continuity of images. Coming Back, presumably a self-portrait of the artist, discreetly depicts in the background the figure of a woman with an umbrella, back turned to the viewer. In another painting entitled Takipsilim , this same woman is intriguingly depicted as a central image, walking away into a distant and moonlit landscape. Alexander's use of blue and yellow pigments to exclusively delineate light from shadow in the works also convey a tone of mystery in the stories hidden beneath the literal images of the works.

This year's Walong Filipina also features Filipina women artists from the South, and their continuing desire to popularize and document images of traditional ethnic culture. Ligaya Amilbangsa, while foremost known as a groundbreaking scholar and practitioner of the pangalay (a traditional popular festival dance of the Sulu archipelago), displays in this show her lifelong love for the dance . Such a cultural advocacy is overtly reflected in her paintings, such as the self-portrait entitled Pangalay Rising (oil on canvas, 2004). In this work, the artist depicts self throughout the stages of performing the sinuous rhythmic movements of the dance, donning the janggay (extended metal finger nail) while positioned beside a gabbang (Tausug bamboo xylophone, decorated with exquisite wood carvings).

Amilbangsa's lifelong efforts to depict and document the living cultural traditions of the Tausug tribes in Southern Philippines are likewise seen in works such as Seaside (2004), a quaint portrait of a pottery vendor cradling her baby in their hut spanning the sea. This work on pastel depicts a traditional and nearly-universal theme in art history (mother and child) in the context of local Tausug society.

The resolve to depict woman from national minorities throughout the Philippines and the living indigenous traditions is likewise invigorated in the works of art teacher and gallery owner Lea Padilla and documentary photographer and researcher Ma. Cristina Saulo.

If Amilbangsa's channels her advocacies through scholarly studies and active pedagogical efforts, Padilla's practice as a Mindanao-based cultural practitioner is channelled through her proprietorship of the Linya Gallery in Iligan City and her personal works.

Padilla similarly locates near-universal scenes in the local context, producing images that depict familiar human routines and motions (the act of genuflecting before a meal, or creating communal music, for instance) amidst the initially unfamiliar array of local ornamental motifs. Padilla's works point to a vibrant and intense familiarity with the patterns of the local. In her Pagana Maranao Series (acrylic on canvas, 2006), the artist juxtaposes solid and strung hues and flat backgrounds with intricate and painstakingly-rendered details of Southern Philippine decorative motifs, seen in the ukkil embellishments all throughout the textiles, accessories, tableware, and musical instruments that populate the spaces of her works.

Also present in this year's Walong Filipina show are notable Filipina photographers and their works. Ma. Cristina Saulo depicts the woman of the Philippines' national minorities through a different approach: the straightforward gaze of the mechanically-captured image. Saulo is one of the few Filipina cultural workers who have braved forays into documentary photography and local research into the selected national minorities of the Philippines and the South East Asian region, a rarity of sorts nowadays.

Saulo's photographs of the Filipino Amerasians in the Central Luzon region and the Batak tribe of Palawan in the Southern Tagalog region, and the Mlabri ang Hmong tribes in Thailand are intimate portraits of a people pushed to the margins by colonial incursions. Despite the appalling degree of material and social disenfranchisement that Philippine national minorities are subjected to, Saulo manages to capture portraits of a people that do not evoke pity, but quiet dignity. There is an elegant ease, even a poignant beauty, in the way Saulo's images capture the stark bareness of her subject's lives, such as in the work Batak Girl (Sepia toned silver gelatine print, 2000) or Fisherfolks' Daughter (Selenium toned silver gelatine print, 2003). Other works such as Tagbanua Woman (sepia toned silver gelatine print, 2002) evoke the graceful weight of passing time.

On the other hand, photographer and Silver Lens Creative Director Isa Lorenzo chooses to capture images of still objects and scapes, using their formal qualities to transform familiar household scenes into unknown territories. February (lambda duratrans on lightbox) captures a fog-shrouded landscape from an unknown location, presumably taken at that time of the year. Lorenzo also infuses poetic allusions through the texts of her works' titles, seen in the photograph of a silver ball suspended on a ceiling entitled Kissing, Eyes Closed, or that of what seems to be a clear plastic cap suspended on a wall entitled In Sickness and In Health. The deliberate disjunction between the text and the image projected points to the need to see beyond the literal beauty of the image and uncover an entire narrative of contexts beneath.

Interestingly, Lorenzo's works are positioned in the most inconspicuous corners of the gallery, in places where one least expects to find a 'work of art'. This deliberate curatorial choice also conveys the message that art, whether it be through painting or photography, persists even in the margins of one's world. Lorenzo also makes effective use of the lightbox as a component of her photography display, using the medium to illuminate her images.

Other artistic genres represented in Walong Filipina include installation and functional art in the works of Isabel Aquilizan and Hannah Liongoren.

Aquilizan, an installation artist and theatre director who has usually worked in tandem with artist-husband Alfredo Aquilizan on various inter-disciplinary, collaborative and communal art projects, presents her individual works this time around. Aquilizan makes use of used blankets, seemingly mundane items that nevertheless comprise the various important rituals and phases of our lives, from womb to tomb, from the sacral to the carnal.

As an object signifying social relations and structures, these threadbare and patchwork-riddled blankets convey the spartan yet strong lives that millions of Filipinas live as a consequence of prevailing social realities. The blankets symbolize a tapestry of lives, worn and weary through the years, yet still held together through common threads and painstaking initiatives to heal and repair whatever rips or tears there are. ' Alagang Perla', for instance, may symbolically attest to how impoverished women nationwide are striving to care for their kin and children even with the barest essentials, such as the cheap pink detergent sold in bars all over the country. This is a reminder that gently settles upon the viewer just as the floral fragrance emanating from the installation wafts subtly throughout the gallery space.

Contemporary graphic art and functional pieces, meanwhile, converge in Hannah Liongoren's series of handmade notebook covers on canvas. Liongoren hails from an emerging generation of Filipina graphic artists and illustrators from the University of the Philippines College of Fine Arts. Her works combine contemporary graphic technology, popular culture, and biographical vignettes, seen in the elements of works such as Lola Ada, Cut, and Fhaggi.

All in all, the multitude of Muses paid homage to in this year's Walong Filipina spans an entire range of art disciplines, subjects, and inclinations. As such, the deities of the arts, wherever they may be, must indeed be pleased. ###