Moscow Adventure

8:23 p.m., May 26, 2007 (Saturday)
NAIA, Manila

It's 8:23 p.m. and I'm here at the Ninoy Aquino International Airport Gate 11 for my flight to Moscow via Frankfurt. The fun part of travel starts. After waiting for weeks to secure a visa, I'm finally ready to leave. Thanks to the Russian and Norwegian embassies in Manila for the suspense.

I had to do a last-minute shopping for a suit on Saturday morning. I have to. I'll be speaking before more than a thousand journalists during the opening of the World Congress of Journalists after the keynote address of former Russian leader Michael Gorbachev.

It's good that I lost weight these past days. My waistline has gone back to 33 and I can wear my size 32 pants. I don't have to buy a new pair of pants. In Norway, I'll be wearing Mujiv's barong and pair of pants. 'Yong pang congressman, ha ha ha.

To save on what little dollar some friends gave as "baon" and not to spend money abroad on "incidentals," I bought two packs of cigarettes, extra pairs of underwear and socks, and yes, a new toothbrush, a small tube of toothpaste, a small piece of soap and shampoo. (Most hotels in Europe usually don't provide these in their rooms.)

By the way, I'm typing these notes on WordPad because the guys at the office who I asked to format my laptop forgot to install Microsoft Office. Guys, wait 'till I come back, especially if I would not be able to open my speech. I wonder what other programs you forgot to install. (Well, I also forgot to bring a book to read in the plane.)

It was raining when I left Quezon City for the airport late this afternoon. There was also rain when I left for the United States two years ago. President Arroyo was also facing her own storm that time - an impeachment suit in the House of Representatives. Today, the Arroyo administration is waiting for the people's judgment after the May 14 elections.

I also have some storms to battle - then and now.

Coincidence has always played a role in my life. Some friends say I'm just good in timing. They even have this standing joke not to come with me on my trips to "dangerous" places, especially in Mindanao, because something might happen. I believe that coincidences are actually part of the natural course of things, only magnified by our sensitivity to events or instances due to specific situations. For instance, it's actually no coincidence that every time I travel it rains. It's just that I travel during the rainy season or during bad weather.

As promised, I will keep you updated about my trip and about the meetings I will be attending. I just hope that I can have Internet connection when I arrive in Moscow. It's a long flight. By the time you will read this, I will be in Moscow already. I will change planes in Frankfurt after more than ten hours.

Some sidelights:

When I arrived at the airport's airline check-in counter, the security people asked me if I'm a seaman. I said no, I'm a journalist. A guy said, only seamen go to Russia.

At the immigration counter, the officer asked me what I would do in Moscow. I said I'm giving a speech. He said: "Ang galing talaga ng Pinoy. Kayang-kaya talaga natin ang lamig. Saang maritime school ka magle-lecture?"

Aguy, aguy!

When I went through the second security check at the airport, before the boarding gate, the guards saw my t-shirt with the broadcast network's logo. One man asked: "Anong ikokober mo sa Russia? May gera ba doon?."

Gusto ko sanang sabihing may rali ang mga bading sa Linggo. Ikokober ko.

I tried to enter the Lufthansa lounge. A beautiful girl there smiled and asked for my boarding pass. I said I just want to take a leak. When he saw that I was booked in the Economy section, she pointed me to Gate 11, still with the very nice smile for me not to get embarrassed. I know, I know, I wanted to tell her. Baka lang makalusot. Gutom na kasi e.

I went to a Kopiroti stand and had a cup of coffee and four small pieces of sliced bread for P100. Yes, naiihi talaga ako.

In a few minutes, it would be boarding time, and off I go above the clouds, to never-never land, to sleep on the wings of a Lufthansa airplane, crossing continents and time zones that I only imagine, and making the best effort to kill time thousands of kilometers above the earth, nearer the stars this rainy evening, far from a beloved who is already in bed, dreaming, wishing, working for a better world for herself as I, the accidental journeyman, wonder what's in store in the future.

Good night.


8: 30 a.m., May 27, 2007 (Sunday)
Frankfurt Airport

Just arrived after a more than 12 hours from Manila via Guangzu, China, then over Russia and then Germany.

There were other Filipinos in the plane: caregivers going to Germany, Norway, Milano and other parts of Europe; about 50 Catholic pilgrims accompanied by some nuns on their way to some religious site; a number of seafarers on their way to ports in Copenhagen and Moscow.

I remembered my last trip to Europe in 1993. There were only few Filipino passengers then, mostly seafarers and some activists on their way to a meeting with European counterparts. The times have changed.

During check-in in Manila, I asked for an exit seat. It was a long flight so I preferred to have some leg room. The Lufthansa guy, however, said there was no exit seat available. He offered me a seat in the front row of the economy section. I found out, however, that I was seated with two nursing Filipino mothers on their way to meet their European husbands. I asked to be transfered to another seat beside Vergel, a Filipino seaman on his way to Copenhagen. Except for chats during mealtime, we slept throughout the flight.

Vergel will board a cargo ship in Copenhagen after three years without work in Manila. He said he has a four-month old child now who needs to be baptized. He needs the money for baptism so he accepted a ten-month contract.

When the plane was over Russia, I saw on the map that we were flying over the city of Almaty, a place a dear friend talked about with so much fun. How I wish to discover the city with my friend.

I went around Frankfurt airport to kill time and would have loved to buy books at one bookshop. There was V.S. Naipul's book on his travels to Muslim countries, which I was looking for a time already. It was published in 1998 and is priced at 14 euros. I decided against buying. Maybe I will find a cheaper copy in Manila one of these days. I know there will be a lot of papers to read in the conference and newspapers to browse in the airport to kill time.

Right now I'm sitting beside the glass window of Gate 1-52 of Frankfurt airport. There's a seven-story building on the left that reflects the morning sun. To the right is a building under construction, with a yellow crane hovering above. Jutting below me is the tail of a Lufthansa A-320 plane. Beyond the buildings are trees. Only a few cars and buses are passing.

Places are actually the same wherever your are. It's the same sun, the same sky, the same world we are in. Only people look different, but not that much. What makes sceneries, people, sunsets, sunrises different is how we look at it, how we appreciate the world around us, limited the view may be by our beliefs, feelings and outlooks in life. What makes relationships work is not love itself, it's a universal experience. What makes love work is how people, partners, lovers appreciate each others uniqueness, hate it, argue about it, and in the end try to change it for the better to make each other's life one's own.

Today's headlines:

From the International Herald Tribune

Bush looks past 'surge' for ways to cut troops
Every generation is first generation (for German Turks, foreign brides)
EU's next global target: Google

From the FT Weekend:

Germany clashes with US on climate
Eurotunnel back on track after investors approve new structure

Now it's time to read the papers. I would have wanted to take pictures right now but the 30D Canon in my bag is too bulky to take out. I should have brought with me an instamatic digital camera, if only I have one, ha, ha, ha.


11:57 p.m., May 27, 2007 (Sunday)
Mezhdunaradnaya Hotel
World Trade Center, Moscow

Already in Russia. I arrived here past 4 p.m. local time. I have a problem connecting with the electric socket. The system here is different. My battery is already low. Good that my Siemens phone charger has the right plug. I still have to look for an adaptor tomorrow to charge the laptop.

I have to look for a grocery this evening to buy water. The mini bar in my room has nothing in it. There's also no toothbrush, toothpaste and razor in the toilet.

Moscow is an expensive city. A Coca-Cola at the airport cost me 70 rubles. A lighter costs 30 rubles. A one liter bottle of water costs 80 rubles. The exchange rate is US$1 = 29 rubles.

I wonder if I would be able to tour the city. Aside from the cost, I haven't seen any nearby places to go near the hotel. The schedule is also hectic. I'm closing the computer now. The battery is down.


9:25 a.m., May 28, 2007 (Monday)
World Trade Center, Moscow

In 30 minutes, the former Russian leader Michael Gorbachev will be addressing the World Congress. I will have to be there. I already found a solution to my electricity plug adaptor. A chambermaid brought one to my room, although it was the wrong one. My plug could not fit. She said she could not do anything about it, except if I destroy the adaptor she brought and fit the one I have. Voila, I destroyed it when she left and had my instant adaptor. Next problem is Internet connection. I will find a solution within the day.

I still could not find a shop that sells razors. I will be speaking before the Congress at 2:30 this afternoon. I have to shave. Vanity, vanity. Nope, for once I just want to look good. I have a new suit, a good speech if I may say, and I will be speaking with fellow journalists around the world. I have to show the best of the Filipino people.

It's sad that I will be doing this alone. Like any other small country from around the world, the Philippines has only one delegate to the Congress. The other countries, however, also sent a government delegate. The organizers said they sent invites to all the embassies to send a representative from the home country. Indonesia has one, so my friend Heru from Jakarta is not alone. The Indonesia government representative foot our bill during dinner last night. I hope the Philippine Embassy in Moscow will send a representative at least during the opening of the Congress. If not, then I will have to do this alone.

The Congress is one big meeting with more than a thousand people already registered. The World Trade Center hotel is fully booked for the meeting. Delegates from each continent are meeting to press for their respective agenda. The Asia-Pacific delegates will still have to meet and decide what issues to raise, who to vote, among others. I expect a long meeting with other Asian delegates, knowing fully well the politics and orientation of every country in the region.

I'll keep you posted. Gotta go, for Gorbachev's address.


2:37 a.m, May 29, 2007 (Tuesday)
Moscow, World Trade Center

Stoned drunk!!! Blame the Lithuanians, Cambodian and Indonesian counterparts!


11:58 p.m. May 29, 2007 (Tuesday)
Moscow

I just came from a village where the Russian Union of Journalist hosted a dinner and a cultural presentation for us. There was a lot of drinking, dancing and singing under huges tents in the woods. I took a lot of great pictures, which friends from Lithuania - Jonas Staselis and Dainlus Radzevicius - asked permission to have a copy.

Jonas, a photographer and vice president of their union, and Dainlus, the chairman, have become good friends. Lithuanians love to drink and talk and drink and talk. We've shared stories and found out that we have really similar experiences in working in the media, making friends, drinking and, yes, we talk a lot about beautiful girls.

Jonas gave me a copy of their book on photography and CD of photos that they publish every year. They have a group similar to the Philippine Center for Photojournalism. Actually the only difference between us and the Lithuanians is they have the money and we don't have.

Today's sessions are rather boring, aside from me having a bad case of hangover due to last night's red wine, cognac, vodka, beer and all the other drinks shared with the Lithuanians, Indonesians, Nepalese, Indians, Kosovars, Russians, Australians, Cambodians, and the rest of the gang who dropped by our table in the bar until two o'clock in the morning. I can't imagine now how I survived the drink and came to my room and then later woke up at eight o'clock this morning.


1:08 p.m. May 30, 2007 (Wednesday)
Moscow

Ang hirap kapag nag-iisa. Solo flight talaga, walang suporta kahit galing embahada. Nakakainggit ang Indonesian, pareho lang kami na nag-iisang delegate, pero pinupuntahan siya araw-araw ng representatives ng kanyang embassy para kamustahin kung gusto ba niyang mamasyal, kung may kailangan ba niya ng tulong kahit sa Internet connection man lang, o para sabihan kung saan siya makakabili ng tubig.

Nagtanong ako kung paano nalaman ng embassy nila na nandito siya, ang sabi ng mga taga embahada nila may invitation daw lahat na embassies and foreign missions sa Moscow. Meron pa nga daw meeting earlier na sabi ng mga Indonesians, hindi daw nag-attend ang Pilipinas. Tinawagan ko ang Information department ng Philippine Embassy dito sa Moscow at sabi ni Mr. Derek Atienza, meron nga daw siyang invitation pero he will try daw kung makaka-attend siya.

What's good, however, is I don't owe anything to the government. Baka makikiusap pa na magdahan-dahan ako sa pagsasalita. Hindi pupwede yon. Pero Philippine national pa rin ako at trabaho nila na tumulong sa mga nationals na mapunta dito. Kahit man lang ipakita nila kung saan ang embassy natin.

Anyway, tuloy pa rin ang balitaktakan sa plenary. Ang hirap pa pakinggan dahil Russian at ang bagal ng translation. Di pa ako maka-connect sa Internet. Di ko alam kung natanggap ng Norway ang aking email o kaya ng opisina sa Manila. Pati itong computer nagloloko pa. Hay, buhay, di na ako nag-eenjoy sa byaheng ito. Actually, pwede rin sanang mag-enjoy kung may pera lang akong pwedeng gastusin, pero napakamahal ng bilihin at pamasahe dito at hindi pala-kaibigan ang mga Ruso, aside from the fact na di kami nagkakaintindihan dahil madalang ang Russian na nakakapag-ingles, kahit mga journalists.

May meeting mamaya ang regional groupings para i-raise ang issues ng bawat rehiyon. Dapat lang. Naka-apat na araw na ako dito wala pa ring nangyayari. Ngayong hapon pa lang ang talagang simula ng business of the congress. Trabaho na nga lang ako.

To Russia and Norway

Finally I got my visa. I'm going to Russia and Norway in the coming days.

Thanks for all the support to:

The Embassy of the Russian Federation in Manila
The Royal Norwegian Embassy in Manila
The International Federation of Journalists (particularly Christiane Dennis)
The Section for Human Rights and Democracy, The Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs (particularly Elisabeth Salvesen)
The Russian Union of Journalists
The directorate of the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines
My bosses and colleagues at GMANews.TV
Benny Antiporda of AFIMA
Carol of CMFR

Without your support and follow-up I would have given up this trip.

I will be speaking at the opening of the World Congress of the International Federation of Journalists in Moscow on Monday. The meeting will gather hundreds of journalists from all over the world in the Russian capital to share experiences and update each other on the media situation in their respective countries. Former USSR Prime Minister Michael Gorbachev is the keynote speaker.

A week later, I will be in Oslo to attend the Second Global Inter-Media Dialogue, which is sponsored by the Norwegian Foreign Ministry.

I'll try to keep this blog updated on the activities of both meetings.

I still have to prepare for a 21-hour flight.

Mabuhay si Dagohoy!

Here's an old joke sent by my dear brother Totsie of Bohol:

It was the first day of school in Washington, DC and a new student named Dagohoy, the son of a Filipino immigrant, entered the fourth grade.

The teacher began, "Let's review some American history, class. Who said 'Give me liberty or give me death?'"

She saw a sea of blank faces, except for Dagohoy's who had his hand up,"Patrick Henry, 1775."

"Very good," said the teacher.

"Who said 'Government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth'"?

Again, no response except from Dagohoy: "Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg, 1863," he said.

The teacher snaps at the class, "Class, you should be ashamed, Dagohoy who is new to our country knows more about our history than you do."

She hears a loud whisper from the back: "Screw the Filipinos."

"Who said that?" she demanded.

Dagohoy put his hand up. "General John Pershing, Manila, 1896."

At that point, Jack, another student says, "I'm going to puke." The teacher glares and asks, "All right! Now who said that?"

Again Dagohoy answers, "George Bush, Sr. to the Japanese Prime Minister during the state dinner, Tokyo, 1991."

Now furious, another student yells, "Oh yeah? Suck this!!

"Dagohoy jumps out of his chair waving his hand and shouts to the teacher at the top of his voice,

"Bill Clinton to Monica Lewinsky, the Oval Office, 1997!!"

Someone shouts, "You little shit if you say anything else, I'll kill you."

Dagohoy yells, "Congressman Gary Condit to Chandra Levy, Washington, D.C., 2001!"

The teacher faints. "I'm outta here!" mutters one student as he sidles to the door.

"President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, Baguio City, December 30, 2002!!" Dagohoy responds.

As the class gathers around her on the floor, someone says, "Oh shit, now we're really in big trouble!"

"Saddam Hussein, on the Iraq invasion, Baghdad, May 2003!" Dagohoy bellowed.

"Now, I really have to run," Jack mutters, heading for the exit, "Gloria Macapagal Arroyo again, Pampanga, October 4, 2003!!!"

Dagohoy shouts triumphantly jumping with glee.

Then a burly African-American boy grabbed Dagohoy and strangled him, about to give a fistful to a frightened Dagohoy.

Then an Asian boy stood up and shouted, "Hey easy on him. I'M A FILIPINO!"

Dagohoy then blurted out before he got socked out, "Fernando Poe, Jr. Manila, January 2004!!!"

A trip to Europe?

I'm supposed to leave for a two-week trip to Europe this weekend. But until now I still have no visa.

My dilemma: There's this embassy located inside a posh village in Makati where I was supposed to apply for a visa. The village guards would not allow me in because my name is not on the list of people who are scheduled to visit the embassy. The guards, who were just following orders, said I should set an appointment by calling the embassy, which I did of course several times already in the past weeks. The one who answers my calls always referred me to the number of the visa section, which nobody answers.

So what to do? I sent an email twice already to the email address on the embassy's Web site. No answer. I also sent a fax message to the number of the consular department, still no answer. I already have an invitation from the Foreign Ministry of the said country, but the guards refused to recognize the letter.

(One thing I appreciate about the American Embassy in Manila is they will either say yes or no to any visa application and will not hold you in suspense.)

I am also very grateful to the people at the Norwegian Embassy, the other country that I am going to visit for another conference. The friendly Norwegians immediately accommodated my request for a visa after I showed an invitation from no less than their prime minister.

Actually, I always have mixed feelings every time I'm invited to travel to another country. One, I don't really have the financial capability to travel. I'm not really that excited to travel because I know that all I do abroad is stay in my hotel, attend meetings and walk around the block or to the nearest park. Except of course if there are generous sponsors who shoulder my needs, including allowances for excursions or outings.

The last time I went abroad was to Jakarta. Except for my trip to my hotel from the airport and back, and for the short trip to a park where a protest action for missing journalists was held, I just stayed in the hotel, consuming cups of free coffee.

Travels are exciting, but for a Filipino "promdi" like me who can hardly afford a trip out of Metro Manila, it's a sacrifice.

Abangan na lang natin kung it's a go or not this weekend.

My thanks, of course, to my dear friend Carol who, upon hearing of my ignorance about traveling abroad, went out of her way to look for an agency and get my travel insurance, although it's not yet sure if I would be able to leave. Ha, ha, ha. Thanks, Carol dear. Sabi nga, you know who your real friends are in times of need.

Back to basic

The smell of sweat, the excitement of the moment, the feeling of being nameless and faceless in the crowd, make going back to the field an experience I will never trade with any other post.

I'm back in the field these days, trying to remember the basics of "real journalism."

Tired, sore, and alone

Just so tired to work or think. Time moves like "shooting stars" - here one moment, gone the next, so fleeting, leaving no trace on the horizon.

When I was young I've always wondered where shooting stars go, although I was always fascinated, and at the same time afraid, with lightning. Lightning kills. I've seen trees, houses and lives destroyed in our province because of lightning.

I was always afraid of fleeting moments, of passing fancy, of short or shortened lives. I've always wondered what meaning there is for people whose lives are cut short either by poverty, sickness, war, or accidents. How does it feel to pass this world like lightning, for only a moment, like a shooting star.

The season for rains and typhoons and storms is here again. There will be more lightnings, there will be more deaths, there will be lives lost, lives forgotten, like dying stars, falling.

Unlike politicians with a vision to live and reign in the next 100 years, if not forever, it helps to remember that we, ordinary mortals, are just passing by, like "shooting stars," like lightning. Here today, gone tomorrow.

Counting the numbers

Monitoring the Namfrel and Comelec counts of the May 14 elections results is a feat for reporters assigned to cover the tally, and for editors who have to manually encode the results into computer programs.




(Journalists work at the Comelec's Media Center at the PICC)





The Comelec distributes "soft copies" of the elections results (they even email it to media organizations) but these are two days late. It has to clear the commission's various stages of checking and counter-checking before it is released to the media. (I wonder why Comelec announces the result even before the soft copies pass the clearing stage.)

If one reads the result of the Comelec count in newspapers or news sites, one notices that the figures are already in the millions. But if one looks at the official results released by the poll body, the numbers are lower.

Namfrel releases only "hard copies" of its count.

Reporters at the PICC (Comelec) and Greenhills (Namfrel) have to generate their own Excel files and encode the figures announced by both Comelec and Namfrel to determine the ranking of the candidates.

Comelec releases only an alphabetical listing of the results. The poll body does not rank the list of candidates based on the number of votes.

It's a long way for elections in the country to be at par with other democracies. Longer than the counting of votes is the overhaul of the election process itself, voter education included.

Bagyo

May bagyong parating. Parang napaaga yata ang pagdating ng tag-ulan sa taong ito. Tila nagbabadya ng mas marami pang baha at sakuna.

Typhoon 'Amang' intensifies

Typhoon "Amang" continued to intensify Saturday morning.

In its 11 a.m. advisory, Pag-asa said "Amang" was 1,080 km east of Aurora province as of 10 a.m. Saturday, with maximum sustained winds of 130 kph and gustiness of 160 kph.

"Amang" continued to move north-northwest at 13 kph and was expected to be 970 km east of Northern Luzon Sunday morning, and 1,300 km east of Batanes Monday morning. - GMANews.TV

Neil Gaiman's 'Neverwhere'

"Neverwhere" is my first Gaiman novel.

An officemate told me Gaiman's fans are mostly young people. I said I'm not that old to understand Gaiman.

I've read several Gaiman stories. I even bought a second-hand collection of his stories. I enjoyed them.

"Neverwhere" aroused innate fears. And a little bit of hope.

Ang landas na tinahak ni Allan

Dalawampu't isang taon na ang nakalipas nang huli kaming magkita ni Allan B. Dahil wala pang cell phone noon, naputol ang lahat na ugnayan namin. Ni sulat wala kaming natanggap mula sa isa't isa. Di ko na nalaman ang nangyari sa kanya, di na rin niya alam kung anong landas ang tinahak ko sa buhay.


(Ang letrato na yan ay kuha 20 years ago, noong 1987. Ako yang nakadilaw(!) na jogging pants sa kaliwa, si Paul ang nasa gitna (nasa Amerika na siya), at si Padi (nasan na kaya siya?))

Pareho kaming tubong-Mindanao. Mas matanda siya sa akin. Nagkakilala kami sa seminaryo. Sabay na nangarap kung papaano makapagsilbi sa Diyos at sa bayan. Sabay na nakibaka sa anumang maliit na maitulong namin para magkaroon ng pag-asa ang mga taong nakasalamuha namin sa mga baryo sa Mindanao at Basilan at sa urban poor communities dito sa Maynila.

Sabay din kaming namulat sa ganda ng mga dalaga, dito man sa Maynila o sa mga liblib na baryo kung saan kami nagtuturo ng katekismo at kanta sa mga bata. Syempre pa, siya sa kanta at gitara, ako sa katekismo dahil kahit anong praktis ko medyo sablay talaga ang tunog kapag ako ang nagtuturo ng "El Senor es contigo."

Nagulat ako nang makatanggap ng text message mula sa kanya kanina. Natatawa pa ako: Eto kasi ang sabi nya: "D nko m imagine ang usa k y buot nga cge rag bsas kwarto s claret serious na kaau s tv on vital isues n concern. Musta na (Di ko ma-imagine ang isang walang muwang na lagi lang nagbabasa sa kwarto sa Claret, seryoso na masyado on vital issues and concerns).

Dalawampu't isang taon na ang nakalipas, kaya tinawagan ko siya. Di ko nga alam kung sino sya noong una. Isang bata ang nakasagot. Tatay daw niya si Allan at wala ito sa bahay, nasa bukid daw naglipat ng baka.

Nang makausap ko siya, sinabi niyang nasa isang liblib na baryo na raw siya nakatira. Simpleng buhay daw. Matagal na raw siyang walang nakausap, nakasama, nakahuntahan na dating kasama't kaibigan. Sa TV na lang yata niya nakikita ang Maynila na dati naming pinasyalan at kinilala na parang dito na huhubugin ang kapalaran.

Sabi ko, basta ba masaya siya sa kanyang kinaroroonan, basta ba nagigising siyang buo pa rin ang mga pangarap, buo pa rin ang pag-asang sa susunod na pagsikat ng araw mas maalwal ang buhay, mas may pag-asa, mas mataba ang baka, may itlog ang mga manok at namumulaklak ang mais.

Matagal-tagal din kaming nag-usap, nagkamustahan, inaalala ang nakaraan, ang mga nakasama sa pagbuo ng mga pangarap, ang pagtayo ng LRT sa Taft Avenue, ang Nayong Pilipino na naunang napasyalan sa Maynila, ang Corregidor, ang EDSA 1, ang marami pang mga karanasan.

Sabi ko naiinggit nga ako sa kanya. Matutulog na siya pagkalubog pa lang ng araw, gigising naman sa padating ng bukangliwayway. Napakatagal na panahon nang di ako nakakita ng bukangliwayway. Napakatagal na panahon nang di ako nakatulog sabay sa paglubog ng araw.

Sabi ng kaibigan ko: "Yan ang pinili mong landas."

Naalala ko tuloy, isa sya sa mga unang nakabasa sa aking mga tula. Natatawa ako sa sarili dahil talagang di naman ako marunong tumula at sinasabi lang ng mga tulad ni Allan na ang mga sinusulat ko ay tula. Kaya naman, nagsulat ako ngayong gabi.

Lumubog na ang araw, madilim na ang gabi
Oras na naman ng pagdalaw ng pangungulila
Walang takipsilim sa syudad, walang kampana
Walang hudyat para umuwi na ang mga bata

Walang kalabaw o baka, o baboy o manok
Na aasikasuhin bago sumubo ng kanin
Habang nakapatong ang maruming paa
Sa mahabang bangko sa tabi ng hapag

Tumawag ang isang dating kakilala kanina
Nasa malayong bukid na raw siya nakatira
Mahirap daw ang makikipagbuno sa lupa
Kahig muna bago tuka ang magsaka

Sabi ko mas mahirap na maglakad
Sa sementadong gubat sa syudad
Mabigat ang maghabol ng pantasya
Gustuhin ko pang magbungkal ng lupa

How I wish

"Be careful what you wish for, it might be granted to you."

Somebody might have said it to me, or I might have read it from somewhere. But yes, I wish, yes, how I wish I was more careful in my wishes.

God has been good, really good to me. He gave me a lot of blessings more than what I wished for. Now I'm just tired.

I wished for work that would be pioneering in my field of expertise. I wished that I could work with no specific time to come in or out. I wished that I could help other journalists.

God granted me my wish.

I work in the morning, I work in the afternoon, I work in the evening, I work at dawn, I work in the office, I work outside the office, I just work.

Reporters who get threats call me, media organizations call me for interviews when a journalist is killed, I attend meetings, travel to places without enjoying the sites, address audiences as if it is my responsibility to attend such functions, etc, etc.

I just work. I have no time to enjoy the fruits of my work, to gaze at the sunset or welcome the sunrise. I haven't seen a movie for a long time, I haven't been to a mall, I haven't sung in a videoke bar, I haven't even had beer with colleagues.

How I wish I can still make a wish without God making a joke.

Flores de Mayo

The right to vote

Scenes from the May 14 elections

After 6 hours

After more than six hours, at about 2:30 in the morning, news was slow, and so was the server.

Election coverage

Past 8 p.m., May 13, 2007. GMANews.TV Newsroom. Simula na ng walang tulugan for the 2007 Elections coverage.

Sa pagbuhos ng ulan sa tag-araw

Bumuhos na ang ulan. Malamig na ang panahon. Ang simoy ng hangin ay tila haplos ng malamig na kamay ng sintang kinakabahan sa unang gabi ng pagtatalik.

Patapos na ang tag-init. Muli na namang mamumulaklak ang mga halaman. Muli na namang uusbong ang mga makahiya sa gilid ng daan, muli na namang magbabantay ng mga murang tinik sa tangkay ng bagong tubong rosas.

Bagong pag-asa ang hatid ng pagpatak ng ulan matapos ang mahabang tag-init. Pag-asang alam nating lahat ay may kaakibat na mga pagsubok -- tulad na lamang sa parating na halalan, tulad na lamang sa mga pangakong muling binibitawan ng mga magsing-irog, o ng mga magkakalaban sa tunggalian, tulad na lamang sa pagsapit ng takipsilim sa mga liblib na baryo.

Lahat ng bagay, ika nga, ay magkakambal. Kung merong liwanag, may dilim, kung may dalamhati, may ligayang darating. Nakakalungkot nga lang dito sa ating bayan, halos 'di makita ang ganitong pag-ikot ng kapalaran. Tila hindi umiinog ang mundo. Ang mga dukha ay patuloy na dukha, ang mga mayayaman ay walang humpay sa pagpapasasa, ang mga pulitiko, sila-sila pa rin ang tumatakbo, ang mga niloloko ay patuloy na kumakapit sa paniniwalang darating ang panahon at kusang babaligtad ang sitwasyon.

Ayokong maniwala sa kapalaran, ayokong maniwala sa pag-ibig, o sa kapayapaan, na nakakamit dahil sa takot ng pagkatalo. Naniniwala ako sa isang patas na laban, sa isang laban na waland dayaan, na walang trayduran, sa pakikibakang hatid ng pait at sakit dahil sa pag-aalay ng dugo, pawis o buhay para makamit ang minimithi.

Kapag tag-ulan, lalo na sa gitna ng gabi, dumarating ang halo-halong damdamin - ng pangungulila, ng nag-aalab na damdamin para makibaka, ng pangarap na baguhin ang mukha ng lipunan. Nakakalungkot nga lang na sa pagsikat ng araw, marami ang nakakalimot sa gabing dumaan. Sa paggising nalilimutan ang mga matatamis na salitang ibinulong sa sinisinta, ang halakhakan sa baba ng hagdan, ang sumpang ipaglalaban ang mga karapatan, ang mga sigaw ng pagnanasa ng kapayapaan. Nalilimutan ng marami, nalilimutang sa bawat pangako, sa bawat pagbigkas ng "sulong," maraming puso ang umaasa at nagigising na nauulila.

Parang gawain ng mga pulitiko, parang gawain ng marami sa atin, parang gawain ko, parang mga nakasanayan mo.

Hand of the Master

This came from the egroup of my Claretian brothers:

When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing.

Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, "Don't quit. Keep playing." Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obbligato.

Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a fr ightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience. The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic, " Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

Perhaps that's the way life is meant to be. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful.

The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, "Don't quit. Keep playing."

May you feel His arms around you and know that His hands are there, helping you turn your feeble attempts into true masterpieces.

Memory waltz

It’s May. The rains are here. With the first raindrop, flowers bloom. Girls turn into women. Love blossoms. Memories, like golden rays of the setting sun, are fingers that reach back into the depths of one’s being. Ordinary folks become poets, poets become lovers. Sinners pray, children offer flowers to the Virgin.

It’s fiesta time in many parts of the country. People remember their saints – San Isidro, patron of farmers. There’s food on the table after a bountiful harvest. The morning star seems to not part with the moon. A sign, fishermen say, of a good catch waiting in the middle of the ocean. A sign, young men say, to go a-courting.

People who are far decide to come home. Those who could not afford a trip back wax sentimental, especially in the early evening, when noise and silence compete to grab one’s attention. There’s no escaping the memory of village dances, of picnics under fruit-bearing mango trees, of games – tubig-tubig or tubigan under the full moon, taguan, or even sungka with older cousins and siblings.

There’s no escaping the shadow of the past visiting, of lovers leaving, of family members dying, of the first heartache, the second, and sometimes, the endless romance that never came to be, of promises that never become reality.

The month of May is both happy and sad, a marriage of tragedy and victory - facets of life all of us cannot escape, like coming to life and dying, like clouds becoming rain, like buds dying to become flowers, like girls having their first period, like the fingers of the setting sun, reaching out but slowly fading on the horizon.

Cloudy skies

The weather bureau said Metro Manila will be experiencing cloudy skies in the coming days.

I just hope that in the coming days, as the elections near, the forecast will not take a literary twist.

Elections in this country is not known to be "bright" with the perennial incidents of cheating, fraud and violence.

France had its presidential election last Sunday. On Monday, the French people already knew who their new president is.

Will the time come that Filipinos will have the same experience?

'Moment'

There's nothing more romantic than spending time with a loved one, even for a moment, to reminisce the past and dream about the future.

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

- Pablo Neruda

Paglalakbay

Tila ulan sa tag-init ang maikling panahon na nakaalis ako sa bansa. Subalit gustuhin ko mang maaliw, ipinagkait ito ng panahon. Hanggang sa ibang bayan trabaho pa rin ang aking inatupag.

Umalis ako sa paliparan ng Maynila alas-otso ng umaga ng Martes. Natulog lang ako buong panahon sa eroplano hanggang dumating sa paliparan ng Singapore.

Masayang sumakay ng eroplano lalo na kung malayo ang biyahe. Para bang dinuduyan ka sa ulap. Hindi ko lubos maisip na nasa pagitan ako ng langit at lupa at ipinapasa-Diyos ang buhay. Isipin nyo nga naman po, nasa hangin ka, nasa gitna ng kawalan, tila sinusubukan ang pananampalataya.

Pagdating sa Singapore, takbo naman agad sa isa pang eroplano para lumipad ng isang oras patungong Jakarta. Nang sinabi ng piloto na malapit na kaming dumapo sa Indonesia, sumilip ako sa bintana. Parang Pilipinas lang pala ang kapitbahay nating bansa. Medyo maganda pa ang Maynila. Marami ang sasakyan. Isipin nyo nga naman na apat na milyon daw ang motorsiklo sa Jakarta kung saan ang population ay tulad din lang sa Metro Manila.

Dumating ako sa aking tinirhang hotel at nagpahinga. Gawain kong magbabad sa bath tub matapos ang mahabang paglalakbay. Nakakatuwang maglaro ng mga bula sa maligamgam na tubig. Para kang bata, wala kang ibang iniisip, pabasa-basa, payosi-yosi, hanggang makatulog at magising na lamang dahil malamig na ang tubig.

Naghapunan naman agad ako ng authentic na Indonesian na pagkain at biglang napaluha dahil nakakain ng sili. May tumutugtog sa piyano at biglang humirit ng mga Frank Sinatra, kaya nagdesisyon akong bumalik na lang sa kwarto para manood ng TV.

Matagal-tagal na ring panahon na di ako nakatulog ng maaga, kaya bago pa man mag-ala una ng umaga'y nakaidlip na ako. Syanga pala, huli ng isang oras sa Pilipinas ang Indonesia.

Kinaumagahan, masaya naman akong binati ng mga kasapi ng fellowship ng Seapa. Nagbigay ako ng pananalita sa sitwasyon ng media sa Pilipinas. Mahaba din ang naging diskusyon kaya inabot kami ng tanghalian.

Kinahapunan naman, isang pagtitipon ng hindi kumulang isang daang mga mamamahayag mula sa iba't ibang bansa ng Asya ang aking nakasalamuha. Nagsalita naman ako tungkol sa tinatawag na "Culture of Impunity." Marami ang nagtanong. Marami ang nagulat. Marami ang namangha sa sitwasyon hindi lamang sa ating bansa kundi sa buong Asya.

Nagpalipas lang ako ng gabi sa kwarto dahil napaka-traffic sa Jakarta at tila wala naman akong mapapasyalan dahil medyo malayo ang aking tinirhang hotel sa sentro ng bayan.

Umaga na ng magising ako at kailangang magsalita naman sa isang forum tungkol naman sa "defamation" at libel. Nag-press conference pa ako matapos ko malaman na inatras na pala ni First Gentleman Arroyo ang demandang libelo laban sa 46 na mamamahayag.

Nakiupo na lang ako sa workshop kinahapunan tungkol sa mga batas ukol sa media at sa tinatawag nilang press council. May natutunan naman ako at iba talaga ang karanasan ng media sa ibang bansa.

Ala-siyete na ng gabi ng magsindi naman kami ng kandila para sa mga mamamahayag na nawawala. Umikot ako sa plaza ng Jakarta at kumain ng mga lutong Thai kasama ang mga taga-Seapa.

Madaling araw ng Biyernes ng umalis ako ng Jakarta pauwing Maynila.

Siyanga pala, alam n'yo bang sikat na sikat sa Indonesia si Diana Zubiri na nakilala daw doon dahil sa isang pelikulang "The Girl from Bandung" yata ang pamagat. Sikat din ang mang-aawit na si Christian Bautista.

At alam nyo bang mas mura pa ang batik (na galing Indonesia) na binibenta sa barter trade sa Zamboanga kaysa batik sa Indonesia na tinitinda sa isang pamilihang aking nadaanan?

At ang daming pirated na CD at DVD na nagkalat lamang sa kanilang mga lansangan.

Hanggang dito na muna. Mukhang kailangan ko pang magpahinga.

Back from Jakarta

I just got back from Jakarta where I sat as a member of a panel that discussed the media's struggle against defamation in Asia.

In the middle of the discussion on Thursday (Press Freedom Day), I received a message from the Philippines that says First Gentleman Jose Miguel Arroyo dropped the libel charges he filed against 46 journalists.

It was good news for Asian journalists gathered in Jakarta. The conference organizers (IFJ, AJI, Seapa) invited me later to join a press conference to announce the news.



After the whole day workshop, we held a candle-lighting vigil at one park in Jakarta's city center to call for the immediate release of Alan Johnston, a BBC correspondent who was abducted by gunmen in Gaza on March 12.

It was an emotional gathering of journalists from all over the region.

Travel

I've always enjoyed airports. Or maybe the idea of travel. It's always exciting to just sit and watch people come and go.

I'm leaving for a trip today. My first this year outside the country.

What I don't like about trips, however, is the preparation - waking up early in the morning, ironing and folding clothes, thinking about what to bring, deciding on what book to read on the plane.

Of course the usual security check, especially the taking off of shoes, is annoying. Well, there are things, including trips abroad, that do not come free.

Tag-araw

Matindi ang init ng araw nitong mga nakalipas na linggo. Kasing-init sa pangangampanya ng mga pulitiko para sa darating na halalan sa Mayo.

Umuwi ako sa probinsya nitong nakalipas na weekend. Gano'n pa rin naman ang itsura ng aking bayan. Tila walang nagbago. Medyo nalinis lang ang dalampasigan dahil dumadami na ang mga kubo sa tabing-dagat at medyo alaga na ang mga halaman at puno.

Ang bagong sidewalk sa boulevard ay gawa na ng clay tiles. Magandang tingnan lalo na sa gabi kapag nasisindihan ang mga makulay na ilaw sa daan.

Di naman nagbago ang mga tao sa bayan ko. May mga tumatanda, may pilit na nagpapabata at marami na talagang mga bagong mukha na naging tao na siguro noong umalis na ako sa bayan 24 na taon na ang nakalipas.

Maalat pa rin ang dagat, mainit pa rin ang araw, namumulaklak pa rin ang akasya. May mga bagong bahay na ang tawag ng mga pinsan ko ay "katas ng retirement," "katas ng pagpupunas ng pwet ng banyaga" at "katas ng pagpuputa" sa Japan at ibang bansa.

Tsismoso't tsismosa pa rin ang mga dati nang tsismoso't tsismosa, 'di na ako nakakita ng tuba sa sentro ng bayan, Red Horse na ang tinitira ng kabataan at 'di na baylehan ang tawag ng sayawan. XRM na ang gamit ng mga bagets sa gimik, 'di tulad noon na kami ay nagpapagandahan ng bike.

Tahimik pa rin ang bayan ko. Pangarap ko pa rin na manitili doon, kasama ang mga mahal sa buhay, sa darating na panahon.

Malungkot lang na 'di ko man lang lubusang na-enjoy ang tag-init sa sa aming bayan. Nawala na kasi ang mga tukmo't punay na dating nakikipagharutan sa mga maya sa palayan. Wala na ang palayan sa likod ng aming kubo. Bahayan na ito. Marami na kaming mga kapitbahay, mga pinsan at kamag-anak.

Tag-araw, natutuyo ang mga batis sa Tipsong, walang hamog ang mga bulaklak sa umaga, nagtatago na yata ang mga dalaga.

Scenes from over the weekend

Another dark period for Philippine media

This week marks another dark period for press freedom in the Philippines, with the murder of a colleague, the attempted murder of another and a libel case filed by a governor against yet another.

Carmelo Palacios, 41, field reporter of the government-run Radyo ng Bayan, was found dead in Sta. Rosa town, Nueva Ecija, Wednesday morning, his body battered and shot in the chin. He was the 51st journalist to be killed under the Arroyo administration's increasingly blood-drenched watch, and the third this year.

Director Geary Barias of Task Force Usig has said there is reason to believe the murder of Palacios was an offshoot of his being a "hard-hitting, no nonsense reporter" and "anti-crime crusader."

A day after, Delfin Mallari Jr., correspondent of the Philippine Daily Inquirer and the host of a local radio program and editor of the local paper Ang Dyaryo Natin, was shot and wounded in an ambush in Lucena City.

Colleague Johnny Glorioso of dzMM and Mallari's co-host and fellow editor, said they have all the reason to believe the attempt on Mallari's life was "politically motivated."

In Cebu City, Leo Lastimosa, station manager of local ABS-CBN radio, was slapped with a libel suit by Cebu Governor Gwendolyn Garcia because of his exposes on alleged scams committed during the preparations for the 12th Association of Southeast Asian Nations there.

And in Albay, dzRH reporter Jun Alegre was arrested yesterday and jailed over a 10-year-old libel case.

The National Union of Journalists of the Philippines condemns these latest assaults on our colleagues and on press freedom as a whole.

Indeed, the assaults on journalists and not just press freedom but freedom of expression and the people's right to know as well, have been coming more often and becoming more brazen.

In the case of media, while there remains no indication that this is part of a broad, concerted effort, unlike the assaults on other sectors, the fact nevertheless remains that the continued assaults on
our colleagues and on our freedom and liberties are abetted by a climate of impunity that is the result of official inaction, antipathy and, in many cases, even outright hostility.

This is borne out by last year's attempts by government to clamp down on the media during the ill-conceived state of national emergency, the multiple libel cases filed against 46 journalists by no less than the president's husband, the sedition charges filed against the Tribune and the comments from sundry government and security officials, notably Justice Secretary Raul Gonzalez, that a number of our slain colleagues may have deserved their fates -- as if there were any justification for murder.

Again, as we mourn our fallen, see to our wounded and give succor to the embattled, we challenge President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo to do the one singular act that will prove that her administration is not abetting this climate of impunity that is steadily and with gathering speed and brazenness battering at our most basic rights and liberties -- issue a categorical order to put an end to the killings and assaults, to get the perpetrators, and declare the decriminalization of libel an urgent measure.

We urge our colleagues to remain steadfast and band together and call on the people whom we serve to help send a strong signal to those who would deprive them of their right to know that, no, we will not surrender.

Jose Torres Jr.
NUJP chairperson

Nokia N70: Sunset

Being a good citizen

It's difficult to be a law-abiding citizen. You have to fall in line under the heat of the sun to pay your taxes. It's good that some banks are accepting payments. I did just that and became a good citizen in just a matter of 15 minutes.

Now I have all the right to complain about bad roads, the rising cost of living and the human rights violations that are, most of the times, not addressed by authorities. I paid my taxes, paid my dues, did my part as a Filipino, our government should be doing its part too.

As expected, Pacquiao won

Pacquiao won.

Filipinos, including Rep. Darlene Antonino-Custodio, were grateful after Manny brought "honor" to the country by beating the hell out of Jorge Solis.

Good for Manny. He will surely bring home the money. Good for all Pinoys. We had a temporary break from the boredom of our poor existence. There was even free merienda in some sports complex in Manila courtesy of local politicians.

Good for me and my colleagues. We had to stay in the office for almost 20 hours now to make sure the world will be informed what happens to the "people's champion."

I wonder why we're so excited about the outcome of the Pacquiao-Solis fight when we were so sure anyway that Manny would win.

It's just maybe the love for a good fight.

All eyes on Pacquiao

Pacquiao will win. Most Filipinos are betting on it. He will easily win against Solis in San Antonio, Texas. I doubt if he will have the same easy time against Ms Darlene Antonino in GenSan in the coming elections.

Problems will again be forgotten today. Filipinos will be glued on their television sets. They will watch the "people's champ" slug it out with the Mexican Solis. There will be no campaign sorties later today. Politicians too need to have a rest. And yes, a good time.

All roads in Metro Manila will lead to SM malls where a live telecast of the fight will be shown, at least for those who can afford to buy tickets. Others will have to wait for the delayed telecast over GMA 7. They can use the money for the ticket to buy lunch and merienda.

I will have my own thing to do later today. I have to forget my own daily fights in life. I need to monitor Pacquiao's fight. Win or lose, I have to work.

The angels flew

I failed to shoot angels on Easter Sunday. I overslept.

Below are some scenes I shot during the Holy Week.

Happy Easter!

Holy Week is over. It's Easter. My dog has died. I've never updated my blogs (yes, I have several blogs) and there are so many things to write about.

The elections are here. Yes, we're electing local and national officials. And there are so many things to do.

I saw a man crucified on Good Friday. I went to the empty cross after the crucifixion. There were no nail marks. It's one of those miracles.

I'll try to shoot angels in the morning.

Things to do and more

So many things to do, so little time. I'm not surprised that I'm enjoying it though.

I was at Bulacan State University this morning for a talk with journalism students. To be with young people is always fun. It reminds me of the days when I watched and listened with amazement at guest speakers and lecturers during convocations and symposia, and wonder how they become what they've become.

I took an FX ride from SM North EDSA to Malolos, paying a P100. It was my first time to travel again to Bulacan. The last time was more than a decade ago. I was surprised and I felt cheated after learning, on my way back home, that the fare was only P70.

Now I know, I told myself.

After Bulacan, it's back to the office for another level of learning - deciding on what stories, photos, etc, to run, following up on other office tasks, and answering calls from friends, including setting an appointment with the Melo Commission to discuss strategies on how to address the unfortunate murder of colleagues.

There's a lot of things to do and, indeed, we're still a long, long way away from achieving what we want to achieve, whatever it is.

Every experience is part of the learning process. I've convinced myself about it a long time ago.

Blogger

I'm still doing this post in the old blogger. It's not because I have this tendency to be attached to what's already there. I'm not just in the mood right now to change settings or migrate this blog to the new blogger. I've tried Wordpress, I liked it, but I still come back here.

I've been to the 18th Ninoy Aquino Awards this morning. It's like a reunion, although I observed that a lot of people were absent. It was maybe because of the traffic on Quezon Avenue and Manila.

Here's a toast to this year's fellows - Norman Aquino of BusinessWorld and Prosecutor Ric Cabaron. Enjoy the trip guys and make the most out of it!

New blog, new site

GMANews.TV, where I am managing editor, has finally unveiled its new look on New Year's Day. The site carries a section for bloggers. I've started a new blog there, although it still carries an old entry from another blog. You can read my "official" entries there. Please visit our site and try to click on my blog too. Thank you very much and Happy New Year to all.

Another blog

I've been experimenting with other blog sites/hosting. I've since mirrored this blog on jotorres.wordpress.com. No worry, as of now the contents are the same. I'm still on the experimentation stage. I've tried the new beta of blogger. It's better the earlier version, which I am using for this blog. I am, however, still waiting for blogger to allow earlier users to migrate content to the new improved and easier version. As of now, I'm enjoying my experiment with wordpress although there are times that the connection to the site slow down.

'The White Man’s Burden'

I just got hold of a copy of Robert D. Kaplan’s “Imperial Grunts” from National Bookstore this afternoon. “Imperial Grunts’ is Kaplan’s reportage on the American military’s operations in various areas in the world, including the Philippines, after the United States declared war against terror.

I just read the book’s prologue where Kaplan compared the poet/writer Rudyard Kipling to another American artist, Frederic Remington. While Kipling celebrated in his works British imperialism, Remington turned imperialism “from fact into heroic myth” when he rode with troops scouting for Indians to subdue.

What caught ignorant me, however, was a footnote on page 10 of Kaplan’s book that reads: “’The White Man’s Burden’ was a poem written by Kipling to urge the United States to intervene in the Philippines in 1899. It is essentially an idealistic poem, though it has often been quoted out of context.”

I searched google for the poem and found a copy in the Washington State University website. Here’s Kipling’s poem.

The White Man’s Burden

Take up the White Man's burden--
Send forth the best ye breed--
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild--
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child.

Take up the White Man's burden--
In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times made plain
To seek another's profit,
And work another's gain.

Take up the White Man's burden--
The savage wars of peace--
Fill full the mouth of Famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to nought.

Take up the White Man's burden--
No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper--
The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go mark them with your living,
And mark them with your dead.

Take up the White Man's burden--
And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard--
The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah, slowly!) toward the light:--
"Why brought he us from bondage,
Our loved Egyptian night?"

Take up the White Man's burden--
Ye dare not stoop to less--
Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloke (1) your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
Shall weigh your gods and you.

Take up the White Man's burden--
Have done with childish days--
The lightly proferred laurel, (2)
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years
Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgment of your peers!

(1) Cloak, cover.
(2) Since the days of Classical Greece, a laurel wreath has been a symbolic victory prize.

Porn, the Internet and online journalism

Francis Fukuyama declared history, viewed as a clash of ideologies, has ended. He said “liberal democracy” of the type pioneered by the United States might constitute “the final form of human government.”

So what’s next? What is supposed to be the next organizing principle of history?

Cyberspace, of course, Internet enthusiasts say. The Internet is global and personal at the same time. With a computer and a telephone line one can communicate, and even have sex, with anybody around the world. The Internet is supposedly becoming a “new paradigm for human development.”

Nicholas Negroponte, in his 1995 book Being Digital, wrote:

“Computing is not about computers anymore. It is about living. As we interconnect ourselves, many of the values of a nation-state will give way to those of both larger and smaller electronic communities. We will socialize in digital neighborhoods in which physical space will be irrelevant and time will play a different role. Twenty-five years from now, when you look out a window, what you see may be five thousand miles and six time zones away. When you watch an hour of television, it may have been delivered to your home in less than a second. Reading about Patagonia can include the sensory experience of going there. A book by William Buckley can be a conversation with him.”

Media, of course, is in the forefront of this new world order. In the Philippines, the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism has pioneered blogging as a form of interactive journalism. Other media organizations, like the giant broadcast network GMA and the Philippine Daily Inquirer, are preparing to plunge into new forms of journalism in the Internet.

Pornography, however, has been way, way ahead already and has become, for many people, the doorway into the online world.

In its latest installment of articles on addiction, the PCIJ printed a commissioned article I wrote on pornography. The proliferation of relatively cheap bootleg sex DVDs, as well as increasing access to the Internet, has made it easier for some Filipinos to get hooked on porn. To read the article visit GMANews.TV or the PCIJ website.

Trivia

Doug Engelbart, a Stanford researcher, came to the Philippines in 1968 and came across an essay written by Vannevar Bush and published in the Atlantic Monthly under the title “As We May Think.” Inspired by the essay, Engelbart wrote a program that demonstrated the first working hypertext software he called “oNLine System.”

Engelbart’s software allowed users to browse through multiple windows of text using a small block of wood mounted on a ball to direct the cursor – a prototype mouse. Engelbart, however, was years ahead of his time. It would be another 25 years before the invention of the World Wide Web.

Imagine if Engelbart was not stationed in the Philippines and did not come across Bush’s “As We May Think”? The Internet would not have been the same as we know it today.

When things happen on a Sunday

It was supposed to be a lazy Sunday afternoon. I woke up while a heavy downpour tries to drown an army of cockroaches in the drainage outside the gate. I was supposed to just supervise that hanging of posters on the walls of our office that's why I decided to wake up late. I even had my breakfast/lunch at Jollibee at past 2 p.m. (By the way, I was surprised that Jollibee indeed cut on the use of plastic and Styro!)

Then the text messages started coming: There was the encounter between government forces and communist rebels where one insurgent reportedly died; then there was the reported shoot-to-kill order by the Army against a peasant leader; then Defense chief Cruz resigned and Saddam Hussein was sentenced to die by hanging. (Will they literally hang him?) I’ve been reading a biography of Saddam and it’s interesting to learn how his miserable childhood and his growing up years in the town of Tikrit affected his later years.

Again, it’s still work, Saddam or not. News won’t stop coming and it’s already 8 p.m. What was supposed to be a lazy afternoon spent reading Saddam’s biography or browsing back issues of Time or Newsweek that keep piling on my desk or an afternoon watching NCIS ended just like one of those weekday afternoons.

Update

I was enjoying reading new entries from John Nery’s blog only to realize that I’ve been missing my blog too. It has been a while since I last wrote something. I’ve been preoccupied these days with everyday matters – like how to go about doing an article on pornography for the PCIJ, how to achieve symmetry in putting up the frames on the wall of the office, how to manage time between editing stories and making work processes go smoothly, attending meetings, etc.

There are books too that are waiting to be read – Michael Weisskopf’s new book on the war in Iraq lent to me by a dear friend, Paulo Coelho’s The Zahir (also borrowed from a friend), Ghost War, the award-winning book of Steve Coll on terrorism that I started reading last year, a Cuban novel, and several journalism books that I only remember to browse when an invitation to give a lecture comes.

My only respite from the daily, if not hourly, grind is to watch the television series “Rome” and “Prison Break.” The first is a lesson in history while the second is a reminder that things can be done if one puts everything into making it happen, be it breaking out from prison or making a wireframe become a working website.

Dan Campilan: Brief, brilliant life in journalism

The only time I had the chance to talk with Dan was during a training workshop for GMA News reporters early this year. I presented to the reporters the new website of GMA News and invited them to write stories for the site.

During the break I joined some of them for a chat. Dan was there. Maybe because of my Visayan diction that he introduced himself as Cebuano. He was happy to learn that I too am a Bisaya. He said "daghan na tang Bisaya sa GMA."

He also said he wanted to write. I told him to just start writing. "Maulaw man ko," he said. I told him there's no reason not to try. "There's always a first time," I said.

He was excited. There's a lot of life in him. I wished him the best. I saw a very promising and very eager journalist.

When I woke up this morning I saw several messages on my phone. Some were asking what happened to Dan. Lean, Newsbreak's artist, said Dan is a classmate at PUP's Open University as a first year broadcast communication student.

The man had a dream. As Jessica Soho said, Dan is an inspiration. May his short life inspire us.

Here's a tribute to our colleague:

Danifel "Dan" Campilan had a brief but exciting five-year career as a broadcast journalist. It ended in Quezon City the way it started in his home province of Cebu – by accident.

In his iGMA.Tv homepage, Dan recalled his first job: "Aksidente lang ang pagiging broadcaster ko. Pagkatapos ng kolehiyo, nag-work muna ako as a Bingo caller sa Cebu — as in Bingo na sugal: letter B 2. Then I found out na may boses pala ako at kaya magsalita in public."

[My being a broadcaster started by accident. After college, I worked first as a Bingo caller in Cebu — as in Bingo the gambling game: letter B 2. Then I found out that I had the voice and could speak in public.]

And so Dan applied for a job with Bombo Radyo Cebu. Readily, he was hired — but not just because of voice. He had some experience in campus journalism at the Cebu Institute of Technology, where he took a course in Information Technology as a scholar of the Department of Science and Technology.

His first major coverage assignment earned him a promotion.

Curiously, his career rose after he reported on the sinking of the M/V Asia South Korea tragedy in Daanbantayan, Cebu.

"The tragedy happened on December 23, 1999, and Christmas was near. Together with the survivors, we spent our Christmas at the site," Dan wrote.

"It was a major break for my radio broadcast career, because I was promoted on the 27th day of the same month to cover national news in our Bombo News Center in Makati."

Thereafter, his career steadily picked up at every turn that he covered accident, melee, upheaval, one after another.

Memorable stories

His profile offered a summary: "Dan Campilan was practically in the center of many upheavals and shakeups that the country has gone through, from the impeachment of Erap and the swearing in of PGMA to the impeachment bid of Chief Justice Hilario Davide Jr."

He was a young journalist but Dan ran a long list of memorable coverage events.

As a Bombo Radyo Makati reporter, he covered both EDSA Dos and "EDSA Tres," or the siege of Malacañang by pro-Estrada supporters on May Day 2001.

"Di ko makalimutan ang May 1 siege coverage na ito," he recalled.

"Habang nagko-cover sa dispersal ng mga Erap supporters noon biglang umulan ng tear gas at tinamaan ako at nagpulasan na lahat. Para mawala ang anghang sa mata, dinakot ko yung ice cream na tinitinda nung mama sa Mendiola at pinanghilamos. Nagsunuran na rin yung iba. Sorry sa manong, but you saved my life."

For GMA 7, Dan’s diligence and discipline yielded good stories. He was the first to break the story on cases of meninggococcemia in Baguio City.

He reported on the tragedy that befell the people and communities of Infanta, Quezon, after a terrible typhoon in 2005.

Great little lives, beings

But the big political upheavals were not what really caught Dan's fancy.

Some of the stories he found memorable were the features he did on great, little lives and beings, like the one on Juliet Chavez, the first Dumagat to win a beauty contest at the Sabutan Festival.

"Pinakagusto ko rin yung nire-rescue namin yung mga eagle, sawa, at unggoy at iba't iba pang mga hayop na inire-report sa GMA at dinadala namin sa Wildlife Rescue Center," he said. At home, he said he had love birds for pets.

[I liked it best when we would rescue eagles, snakes, monkeys and a variety of other animals, and we would take them to the Wildlife Rescue Center.]

Between tight work schedules, Dan managed to give time to two hobbies.

The first is job-related -- watching TV, art films and documentaries. The other is totally unrelated, even unexpected of a strong and sprightly man – cooking.

Dan had the built of an athlete and was given to sports. In high school, he was a varsity player in volleyball and table tennis, but also dabbled in basketball, badminton, swimming and track.

Dream: To be a farmer

Apart from sports, he was grounded in nature. In fact, if his broadcasting career had not taken off, Dan said he would have wanted to become a farmer.

"Kasi yun ang pangarap ko noon para tulungan ang aking mga lolo't lola sa pagtatanim ng mais sa probinsya. Ha-ha-ha, ang babaw lang ng mga pangarap ko. Kahit ngayon I still want to become a farmer, pero siguro pag nag-retire na kasi kailangan ko kumita."

[My dream is to be a farmer and help my grandfather and grandmother plant corn in the province. Ha-ha-ha, I have such a simple dream. To this day, I still want to become a farmer. Maybe when I retire I would, but for now, I have to earn a living.]

Retirement would have been a long way off except that the lie of life visited Dan so suddenly, just before he could turn 26 years old on November 27.

Since joining GMA News Dan had really been busy, so busy that on August 17, 2005, he started a blog — Kapusong Cebuano. More than a year later all that the blog contains is its first, and unfortunately also last, entry:

"matapos ang ilang linggong trabaho, day-off ako today at gumawa nitong first blog ko.

"trial pa lang ito kasi di ko alam paano mag-blog. hehehe."

[After weeks of work, I finally had a day-off today and so here is my first blog. This is a trial blog for now because I still don’t know how to blog. Hehehe.]

Treasured possessions

At the time of his unfinished blog’s posting, Dan wrote that his mobile phone was his most treasured possession.

It was, after all, the one thing that "keeps me in touch with my family in the province." As important, too, were "my steno notebook and pilot ballpen – the most important items while working in the field."

Just recently, Dan did something for himself for a change. He bought a second-hand car to drive to and from work.

It was, unfortunately, while driving it that he would meet yet another accident that would cap his brief but brilliant career as a broadcast journalist. - GMANews.TV

Victory for Uste!

Thanks to JJ. She said the lizard kisses the ground every evening as punishment for killing her mother. The lizard was supposed to be a woman who killed her mother and, as punishment, the gods turned her into a lizard that must kiss the ground every evening.

Why so, why a woman, not a man, must kill her mother, I don't know.

Luisa Igloria has this entry in her blog:

The elders told stories of how the lizard, among all creatures, understands the mysteries of the universe most because at dusk, at vesper-time, it runs or falls to the earth to kiss the ground. We saw them in the kitchen corners, under the eaves, beneath the windowsill, behind cabinets. More than once someone closed a door by mistake or too quickly lowered a skillet, and its severed tail went skittering across the floor. Thus, because it knows to give up part of itself to save the rest. The rest is a story of regeneration that I admire.

UST wins over Ateneo, 76-74.

It was not unexpected. I’ve always cheered for Ateneo (where I tried to fathom the mysteries of God in the late 80s), but when UST entered the UAAP finals this year, I could not help but wish my alma mater’s team the best. A lot of what I later learned in life I first heard from Dominican friars in UST.

“I only have one alma mater because there is only one God, and God is a Thomasian,” a UST journalism graduate said.

Congratulations to my alma mater, congratulations to all Thomasians!

The kissing-the-ground act of lizards

Every evening, when I have the time, I always look for house lizards. They are easy to find. They always come down from the ceiling, down the wall, to kiss the ground. I’ve always wondered why.

My father used to tell me a story why lizards kiss the ground every evening, about 6 p.m. I forgot the story already. Is it a kind of punishment from the gods? I can’t remember anymore.

The lizards, however, have been always a reminder to me. I mean their kissing-the-ground act. It reminds me of humility, of remembering, of recognizing from where we all came from.

With so many things to worry, I forget a lot of things, the simple things most of the time, like anniversaries, birthdays, acts of kindness and even the act of saying hello to people, I mean, just to be pleasant to others.

I wonder how come lizards don’t forget their kissing-the-ground act every evening.

Sometimes, when I feel reflective, I do admire the lizards. Aside their not forgetting their daily ritual, I admire them for – well this is a crazy reflection – their humility to remember where they came from. As priests say on Ash Wednesdays: “From dust thou art, to dust you’ll return,” or something to that effect.

Journalism is history in a hurry. That’s what I read last Monday in a journalism book I brought as reference material for a lecture on journalism in Zamboanga City. Life has been always a blur since I started working as a journalist, except maybe during those days and nights I spent in the barrios or in hotel rooms in some foreign country.

I’ve always told myself that it’s therapeutic just to stop for a moment, sit back, relax and just enjoy the ride. Yes, life is a ride and I’ve been enjoying the fast lane for a while now. It’s just funny that many times I don’t listen to myself. Many of us don’t, I supposed.

* * *

I’ve been trying to dig into my files these days to look for some papers – birth certificates, clearances, etc – that must be submitted to the office as part of my employment requirements. It’s not easy, the digging part. I have to look into envelopes, folders and boxes, leaf through old notebooks, books and files.

I’m still looking until now. I’m enjoying the search that I don’t want to find what I’m looking for anymore. I enjoy scanning old notes, books and files – and there are hundreds of them. Then, like ghosts from the past, people jumped from the yellowed pages of notebooks and pads. I have to talk to them, laugh with them, feel their pain and share their anguish.

While friends during my younger years accumulate wealth, here I am collecting dust, digging into dreams written on cheap notebooks, dreams that until now remain to be realized. What a life. But it’s fun.

I just wonder, as I write this, if 20 years from now I will be able to scan these pages, hese posts, this blog, to revisit the past. Will there be dust on my computer screen? What would be the feeling then?

* * *

A very dear friend gave me a book today. It’s Pedro Juan Gutierrez’s “The Insatiable Spider Man”. I intend to read it in the coming days. I scanned the first few pages and I came across sentences like these:

“He tries to kiss her. She smells the tobacco and alcohol on his breath and feels nauseous. She moves her face quickly to one side and pulls back. The man kisses her neck and licks her. She struggles some more. The man pushes her. Silvia loses her balance and stumbles. He holds her up to prevent her falling. He’s a giant playing with a little bird. Silvia is very slender and frail. She’s still trembling….With his right hand he fishes inside his trousers and pulls out a long black stiff thick prick. Shit. Silvia looks at it. She has to look at it since it’s a few inches from her eyes and she thinks, ‘Christ almighty, I’m really fucked now. Look at the size of it, dammit. If he puts it in me, he’ll split me in half, he’ll kill me, the motherfucker!’”

Just look at the lines, the short sentences, the active voice, the drama it brings to the reader sans the adjectives that many of us, lazy, trying-hard-copycat wannabe writers, use to pretend that we too know how to write.

Thanks for the book, my friend, it sure made my day!