Munting Tinig Ng Pateros

The Masacre of the Filipino Soul

2011-10-21T08:13:00.006+08:00

The righteous indignation of people on the Basilan Fiasco should not only be tolerated. Indeed it is what every right-thinking Filipino should be feeling now. Let the authorities investigate, let the peace panel call for sobriety, let the MILF pontificate about the actions taken by their combatants. The fact remains that 19 soldiers lay needlessly dead after an ambush.

Consider:

1. The AFP is the legitimate armed organization of the Philippines. Last I heard, all of Mindanao is still part of the Philippines. Our AFP does not need to get approval to serve a lawful warrant of arrest to a fugitive from the law,

2. Let us leave religion or God out of this. This is not about Muslims or Christians. This is not about addressing the plight of our minority brothers. Their plea for justice and right to self-determination remains a valid issue. This is all about terrorism and lawlessness - and the need to deal with them decisively and permanently now. Get terrorism out of the picture and it will be easier to talk about, and actually realize, peace and development. We may even be able to achieve it in our lifetime,

3. Let us stop sugar-coating the Peace Talks. Let us call a spade a spade. The MILF did not even bother to deny the attack, and appears to be justifying it even. I must agree with those that call for the suspension, not abandonment, of the peace talks until the MILF deliver on their end of the bargain. How can we talk peace with people who wait for every opportunity to pounce and stab us in the back? It's like talking with someone with our hands tied while they hold a sword in their back. Let the MILF walk the talk first, then we can talk peace again.

I am a peace-loving person, but fight if we must if that is what is needed to achieve it. Like a masterful surgeon, the AFP must learn to remove these "cancers" without adversely affecting the healthy parts of the body - our country. Our military strategists are not without blame either. They ovbiously failed to see ahead and plan for this incursion into enemy territory. There is a lot of room for improvement. Our AFP cannot be always the villains, and perceived to be stupid and incompetent at that.

There is no easy way towards peace, and we cannot just sit by the sides while all these killings slowly but surely desensitize our sense of right or wrong. When the culture of impunity merges with the culture of indifference, there is no way to go but the pits.

I mourn the most for my Pilipinas. Our Pilipinas.

Bragging Rights

2011-09-15T20:04:00.004+08:00

It was one piece of real estate in my little town that was worth watching out for as I pass through the Pateros bridge on my way home. While our richer neighbors use state-of-the-art electronic billboards to communicate with their citizens, our little town by the dead river uses tarp posters to do this. But I must confess that I find the posters quite interesting, and is a welcome respite from the boring monotony of the chaos on the streets.

Each time the tarp changes, I would spend a little more time to read the new message, or appreciate the artwork like when they had the twin feasts of Sta Marta and San Roque. Just recently, the latest announcement did not just deserve a cursory glimpse. I must have caused the other drivers to let out a good amount of expletives as it took me longer to digest what I read on the tarp. My elementary school, Captain Hipolito Francisco Elementary School (or CHFES) was on the tarp - not just once, but twice. Wow-wow-wee!

CHFES was in the tarp because it emerged on top of the list of primary schools in the Pateros-Taguig area in the just concluded National Achievement Test. It's annex placed some notches lower, but still in the top ten. Why am I bragging about this? Because my little school had always been considered as a "saling pusa" compared to the older and more established schools in Pateros. It brings me immense pride because our family has a special connection to this school. It was established while my father was secretary of the barrio council. There are four of us in the family who graduated from this school, where my mother was the treasurer of the Parent Teacher Association for the longest time - even when I already graduated. My parents also allowed the school to use part of our garage as a classroom, and I literally would sit in on classes because the dining hall window directly opens up to the classroom.

I was admitted to CHFES after just turning 6 years old, 1 year ahead of the 7-year-old requirement. My mother was not PTA Treasurer-for-life for nothing, hahaha! My grade 1 teacher was Mrs Cagadoc, a prim and proper lady who taught us to read and write with books about Nilo, Nena, and Bantay. I have very fond memories of this teacher, may her soul rest in peace, as she demoted me several sections lower in Grade 2. Maybe it was because at such a tender age, I showed streaks of rebellion. After being reprimanded for a minor infraction that I could no longer remember, she asked me to stand in the corner. I refused, and instead of following her order, I took my bag, walked out on her and went home.

It was a very small school, with only 3 school buildings and a small canteen at that time - the fourth building being the Barrio Hall. There was another 1-room building across the street, and the garage-cum-classroom in our house about 200 meters away. The building I remembered most was the two-story structure in the center of the compound. The slightly sunken ground floor was for the Practical Arts classes for boys, while the second floor was a classroom that doubles as a stage during programs. How do they do it? The wall facing the open space of the compound can be removed in its entirety and the building becomes a huge stage. That ingenuity really amazed me! Unfortunately, by the time I graduated the building had been torn down and we had to mount a cemented stage in its place.

I have a lot of fond memories of this school, and I should write about them at another time. But for now allow me to brag about its achievement. It is no small feat, and is testament to its loyal and hardworking teachers and administrators. Like my little town, it is a small school with a big heart.

Tatay

2011-06-19T12:36:00.004+08:00

I had attempted to write about Tatay many other times in the past. Each time, I would go as far as two paragraphs, and then stop. Not that I do not have anything to write about him, it's just that I could not seem to find the right words to accurately present a true picture of him. Tatay is such a complex character, one that could not be easily boxed into a stereotypical father image.

Until just recently, we knew very little of his young life. It was as if history only began when he started a family with Nanay. We knew very little about our paternal grandparents. Our interaction with them, posthumous at that, was limited to the annual trek to the cemetery during All Souls Day. Even their graves were simply marked by their names and dates of death. The only paternal relatives we knew were the families of Ate Auring who was his first cousin, and those from Tanay, Rizal. Beyond that, there were so little of family history that we knew of.

It was only very recently that Tatay started sharing with us snippets of his childhood and young life. He has always been the type of person who would rather talk about many other things other than himself. He was very knowledgeable, and can discuss almost anything under the sun. He was well-read and well-traveled and loves intellectual discourses. But he was typically silent about much of his young life.

When I was a young lad, I have only three main chores in the house. The first was to make sure there were bottles of drinking water in the ref. The second was to make sure that the garage and the front yard were swept of dirt and dust before Tatay comes home from work. The third was to make the daily walk from our house to bayan (poblacion) to buy peanuts from Aling Idad, his favorite accompaniment to his one bottle of beer after dinner. The latter two were daily rituals that proceeded with clockwork accuracy. I should have been done with the sweeping before his big motorbike would roar in at five in the afternoon. After dinner, he spends the rest of the night in his garage cum workshop. He tinkers with his motorbike or with television and radio sets that need repairs. He was and still is a master in electronics. Friends, now almost all gone, would drop by for small talk and the de rigour one bottle of beer and peanuts. A few times, he would ride his bike and drive off to visit his best friend, Tia Oreng, in Barrio Aguho. On other times, Tia Oreng would come and visit and have dinner with us.

In all those years, Tatay was the typical padre de familia – the provider and disciplinarian of the family. All that changed when Nanay got sick.

Nanay’s condition progressively deteriorated through the years and in later stages of her illness required more care and attention. It was during those years that we saw the transformation of Tatay from the family man to a loving and caring husband. From the time he retired from work and when they migrated to the United States, they were inseparable. When Nanay had to undergo peritoneal dialysis, he took it upon himself to learn how to administer it. He meticulously kept records and monitored her medicines. He made sure that Nanay was always comfortable and her needs taken care of.

When Nanay was hospitalized and fell into a coma, he refused to leave her side. He was there when she awoke from her coma, and was at her side during her therapy. When the situation got worse, he was at her bedside at all times. When Nanay passed away, he was inconsolable even if he knew her death was already inevitable. I remember vividly how tears flowed down from his eyes when he brought home Nanay’s remains, saying how sorry he was because he could not do anything more to ease Nanay’s pain. It was the first time in my life that I saw him cry and it was for the woman he loved and faithfully cared for. Tatay is not a demonstrative person. People who do not know him might even say that he is cold. But in the years following Nanay’s passing, he continues to amaze us with his absolute love and devotion to her.

Tatay is now nearing eighty-five years old. He is healthy and sprightly, and saved for the gray hair, he can pass off for a sixty year old. He still loves to travel, and make sure that he goes out of town whenever he comes home to visit. He keeps himself busy by tinkering around the house. He is now more relaxed, and more generous in sharing anecdotes of his childhood and young life. Little by little we are now able to learn about his family, his growing up years and his struggles when he became an orphan at such an early age. Sometimes, it makes me guilty for all those times that I misunderstood him, knowing now what he had to go through to see to it that we are what we are now.

But as most people his age, his memory is beginning to fail him. He has become irritable when he could not remember where he put things, or could not recall names and places. Tatay has always been a frank and straightforward person, sometimes even tactless. He would say whatever is in his mind. His jokes are satirical, and more often than not can ruffle some nerves. At the same time, he has become more sensitive, and can easily get offended by what he hears or perceives. It is a challenge that we will increasingly have to deal with as he advances in years.

As we grow older ourselves, we tend to think that we are entitled to live our lives on our own, and that parents are done with their jobs. Sometimes we perceive them to be intruders in our lives. Admittedly, we hurt their feelings with our words and actions just as they can hurt us with their stubbornness and unreasonableness – whether intended or not. Living under one roof can be complicated and compromises can indeed have their limits. It will take a lot of patience and understanding, mostly coming from our part, to maintain harmony in our relationship with our parents at their age. This can be easier said than done.

In one of our most recent conversations, there was one thing that struck me the most. Many times, I had often wondered if my parents, especially Tatay since Nanay is no longer around, love some of their children more than the others. In that conversation, he told me something to this effect, “Maybe my children think that I have favorites. The truth is, I treat all of you equally, but that does not mean I will always give you equal shares. As a parent, I will always give to each one of you based on what you need even without you asking for it. I love you all equally, and it will pain me to see that some of you will not be as successful in life as the others. If that means giving more to those who have less, and less to those who have more, so shall it be. No one should be left behind.”

As the young generation would say, that's my Tatay, epic!

Happy Easter!

2011-04-24T10:53:00.002+08:00

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! The Lord is risen!

The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us,

He lived, ate, cried, laughed, suffered and died as we all do.

And then He rose from the dead not for Himself but for us,

so that we too can rise above suffering and death,

above human arrogance, above indifference and selfishness.

Let this Easter remind us that whatever good we do,

we do not do it for ourselves but for others.

Only then can we truly meet with the Lord and sing,

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! My Lord has raised me up!

Pambansang Libingan ng Pilipinas

2011-02-16T19:51:00.005+08:00

Nine days after the self-inflicted death of Angelo Reyes, many are still doubting if it was really appropriate that he was buried at the Libingan ng Mga Bayani. The Bayani in its name demands the highest standards of heroism from people who are privileged to call it their final resting place. While many of those who are interred there are authentic heroes by their own rights, either because they lived heroic lives or because they died as martyrs for the motherland, a claim to heroism is something that is always subject to debate and public perception. Unfortunately, Angelo Reyes' claim to heroism will be subject to debate for many years to come.

More unfortunately, the Marcos family and their loyalists are now using the decision of the government to allow the burial of Angelo Reyes at the Libingan ng Mga Bayani to resurrect their demand to have Ferdinand Marcos buried there as well. True, both men served their country for most of their lives, but their claims to heroism are also both not universally accepted. This is not the first case, and will definitely not be the last, of burials in this hallowed place being questioned. If it is the time of Gloria Arroyo to go, will she also be entitled to her own plot at the Libingan ng Mga Bayani as a former president even if the trails of massive corruption during her presidency lead to her very doorsteps?

These arguments can be stopped once and for all by splitting the current Libingan ng Mga Bayani into two separate cemeteries. Uniformed men and women who died in the line of duty and martyrs who gave up their lives for the country should be interred at the Libingan ng Mga Bayani because by their very death, they have irrevocably and unquestionably earned the nation's gratitude as true heroes. They are bayanis who deserve their place of honor at the Libingan ng Mga Bayani.

Presidents, Chiefs of Staff, National Artists, Chief Justices, Senate Presidents, Speakers of the House, War Veterans and other important public figures can be buried in a separate Pambansang Libingan ng Pilipinas (National Cemetery of the Philippines) where the criteria for entitlement can be more objective. A law can be passed defining who are entitled to interment at the Pambansang Libingan, and the deceased can be spared the judgment of public perception.

If Ferdinand Marcos is interred at the Pambansang Libingan, it will not be because of his claim to heroism but because he was a President of this country and the position alone entitled him to a burial in the national cemetery - nothing more, nothing less. In the United States, there is little debate, if any at all, about burials at the Arlington National Cemetery because it does not lay any claim to having only heroes being laid to rest there. We should do the same here to stop all needless squabble on who deserves to be laid in a hero's tomb.

Chicken Binakol for less than P200.00!

2011-02-06T12:36:00.005+08:00

I'm taking a break from my Fiesta Series to share with you a new recipe - albeit a borrowed one from the Visayas. Chicken Binacol is the equivalent of Tinolang Manok in Bacolod, Ilo-ilo and other southern regions. The sweet-creamy-salty-tangy taste of its broth is a result of the fusion of its ingredients. I have tasted several versions of this soup/dish in my travels down south, but so far the best is the one I had in Ilo-ilo. I have been reading a lot about this soup/dish in magazines and newspapers but never got around to cooking one myself.

This morning I happen to wake up very happy and decided to do some work in the kitchen, something I have not done so in a very long while. For some reason, the first thing that came to my mind was to experiment with Chicken Binacol. I wanted to try something new, something that I am not really familiar with - virgin territory. Since it is the first time that I am cooking this dish, I had to go back to my memories of eating this dish to be able to come up with the ingredients I need.

So here's my take of this savory comfort food from down south.

Ingredients for 3 to 4 people:

3/4 kilo chicken cutlets
1/2 green papaya cut into 2-inch slices
Lemongrass (Tanglad), bundled into small pieces
1 young coconut (buko), with both flesh and juice
1/2 cup coconut milk (kakang gata)
Fish sauce (Patis)
Crushed garlic, sliced onions and ginger strips
Whole pepper corns
Water

Quick Cooking Tips:

1. Heat pan and cooking oil.
2. Saute ginger, garlic and onion. Put in the ginger first until golden brown to extract the zesty flavor and fuse it in with the oil. Then put in next the garlic and the onion.
3. Put in the chicken cutlets and mix with whole pepper corns until everything in the pan is well-distributed.
4. Drop the lemongrass bundles into the mixture and pour in fish sauce, then cover the pan. Simmer for about 10 minutes. Mix the chicken in 2-minute intervals to make sure cooking is evenly distributed.
6. Add the Green Papaya slices and simmer for around 1 minute. Mix as needed.
5. When chicken is already brownish, pour in the buko juice together with the buko strips. Mix well once then cover again. Add a little water if juice will not be able to cover all the chickens.
6. Simmer for another 5 minutes, then add the 1/2 cup coconut milk while stirring continuously. Add 1 tablespoon at a time if you want a creamier taste.
7. Add more fish sauce if you want it a little bit more salty. Drop a couple of long sili before serving hot.

I did my first foray into cooking this wonderful dish for less than P200.00 (or roughly P50.00/person), so this should be an affordable and easy to prepare comfort food especially on a rainy day.

Happy eating!

Pateros Fiesta Cuisine Series #2 - Meat Rolls

2011-02-03T20:29:00.008+08:00

For this posting, I would like to introduce you to a group of fiesta food that can be prepared days in advance. This saves the hosts some time so they can concentrate on dishes that must be prepared on the eve or the day of the fiesta itself. Considering that visitors are expected as early as around ten in the morning, these time-saving food can come in very handy.

Lumpiang Shanghai (Fried Meat Rolls)

First on my list is the ever-reliable Lumpiang Shanghai. This is a dish that is an all-time favorite in restaurants, fast food and even as a street food. For my version of this dish, the filling is a mixture of egg, ground pork, minced onion, carrot, bell pepper and kimchay. These ingredients are mixed together in a bowl and sprinkled with rock salt and ground pepper. If you want some crunch, you can add chopped water chestnuts into the mixture. Small portions are then wrapped in fresh lumpia wrappers and then fried until golden brown.

The lumpia can be chopped into bite size pieces to make it easier for the guests to munch on these yummy rolls. Dipped in either catsup or sweet and sour chili sauce, lumpiang shanghai is great both with rice or as pulutan (bar chow) while drinking.

Embotido (Meat Loaf)

Next on my list is the bigger cousin of the Lumpiang Shanghai. The Embotido has almost the same ingredients as the lumpia, except for a few differences. It is technically a meat loaf, made from finely grounded pork, chopped onion and bell pepper, minced carrots, raisins and sliced boiled eggs. For special occasions, I would pour evaporated milk into the mixture for a more creamy taste. The ingredients are mixed together until they attain a consistency that will allow it to be rolled into 6-inch logs.

For a more authentic Embotido, the log is wrapped in a membrane taken from a pig's stomach cavity. This whitish membrane is strong enough to keep the mixture together during cooking, and is edible so there is no need to unwrap the embotido before serving. Cooking the embotido is a two-step process. First, the meat logs are wrapped either in aluminum foil or the more traditional katsa (cheese cloth) and then steamed. Although it can already be eaten after being steamed, the logs can also be sliced and then fried. This dish can be dipped either in catsup or mayonnaise, or a combination of both.

Hamonado (Filipino Pineapple Ham)

Another pork dish that can be kept in the refrigerator until needed is the Hamonado. This dish does not require a lot of stuffing, in fact it can do without any. It relies mainly on the sweet-salty flavor of the meat. The lean pork is carefully cut into thin sheets that can be rolled into logs. The meat is marinated overnight in a mixture of pineapple juice, salt, sugar, and beer. And may I hasten to add, it has to be San Miguel Pale Pilsen.

When the meat is ready, it is spread out in a large flat dish and then finely sliced strips of Chorizo de Bilbao is spread out on the surface before it is rolled into a log. The log is secured by running a string around it to secure the edges. The meat logs are then arranged in a saucepan together with the remaining marinade. The meat is then boiled using the marinade until almost dry. The Hamonado is cut into medallions and served topped with the pineapple tidbits.

Morcon (Beef Rolls)

I saved the best for last. Morcon is one dish that ages gracefully. The longer I keep it in the ref, the more delicious it becomes. This is why this dish is better prepared the day before it is to be served. Like the Hamonado, this is a rolled meat but using beef instead of pork. The meat is marinated overnight in soy sauce and calamansi. For special occasions, red wine can be added into the marinade.

When the meat is ready, strips of carrots, celery and red pepper are spread over the meat - and then topped with slices of Chorizo De Bilbao, olives and boiled eggs. Then the meat is rolled into a log and secured by running a string around it. The meat logs are put into a pressure cooker with the marinade and tomato sauce added to it. Water may also added so that all the meat logs are submerged into the mixture. Laurel leaves can also be added for an exquisite flavor. The meat is then boiled until tender and the sauce becomes thick. Chopped carrots, bell pepper, celery and olives can be added to the sauce for added flavor. Like the hamonado, the meat log is sliced into medallions before the sauce is poured over it.

These meat dishes are my so called "after-fiesta" food because they can be kept in the ref, then heated or fried as needed. Totally not recommended for those with hypertension!

Pateros Fiesta Cuisine Series #1 - Introduction

2011-01-31T09:51:00.009+08:00

The feast day of Sta. Martha is just around the corner, on February 13 to be exact. Since time immemorial, Pateros folks celebrate this joyous occasion every second Sunday of February instead of the Church-sanctioned official feast day on July 29. However, as true sons and daughters of the Church, the people of Pateros still hold a nine-day novena and a dance-procession every July 29. Back when there was still a Pateros River, the “Pagoda” or fluvial procession was also held on both feast days.

Although much has been compromised to progress and exigency, my little town has managed to keep most of its traditions in place, if not intact. The river may have dried up and turned into a garbage dump, but we hold on to our riverine traditions by holding the pagoda on the streets using motorized floats instead of boats. The brass bands have either disappeared or have become too costly, so we now used loudspeakers to blare out the catchy Pandango music. The route of the procession may change every year, but the people managed to follow where the music and the dancing are.

I have dealt extensively on the customs and traditions that make our fiesta unique and enduring through the years. So for this series of posts, I will try to concentrate instead on the fiesta food that made these annual feasts worth the wait and anticipation. I remember that my mother and her father would prepare food for our guests using big kawalis, talyases and kalderos over wood-fired cooking pits in our backyard. When my eldest brother married, my sister-in-law joined the kitchen crew in whipping up these delectable dishes. These foods trace their progeny from the rich culinary traditions of Marikina, Pasig, Taguig and Pateros. They have strong influences of both Spanish and Chinese cuisine, while the desserts are mainly indigenous.

The irony is that I was not taught how to cook at home. Growing up in big household, I was always on the receiving end when it comes to meals. I first experimented with cooking when I started cooking sauteed sardines for our midnight snacks back when hot pandesal was the craze. When I went to a boy scout camping when I was 14, I cooked my first tinolang manok based on my recollection of how it was prepared at home. Using my recollection of home-cooked meals, I started my passionate love affair with the kitchen when I lived on my own in Baguio City during college. I remember the incredulous reaction of my Nanay when she tasted my Chicken Afritada for the first time. From then on, Nanay relinquished the kitchen to me. My posts, therefore, are recollections of my personal experiences with these foods in our home. They are not meant to present recipes and culinary secrets, but hopefully, by keeping their memories alive we can keep them in our kitchens as living testaments to our great culinary traditions.

Since my town is famous for its riverine traditions, let me start this series with fish-based dishes.

When it comes to the bounty of the sea (or the river, or the lake, or the fishpond, or whatever...), there are three dishes, called “putahe”, that I remember from our family spread during fiestas. These are the steamed fish with mayonnaise and vegetable dressing, fried fish with sweet and sour sauce (also called "escabeche")and my favorite rellenong bangus (stuffed milkfish).

Steamed Fish with Mayonnaise

There are many varieties of fish that can be steamed, but the bigger ones such as Apahap and Talakitok are preferred as fiesta fare. This dish has to look grand on the table, and they are usually presented on a big dish called “bandehado”. The fish itself is steamed without much seasoning, perhaps only a dash of salt and pepper. However, some prefer to steam the fish with ginger and onion leaves for a more tangy taste. But the secret really is on the garnish.

Garnishing may include finely chopped hard-boiled egg, pickles, bell pepper and carrots. The steamed fish is laid out on the bandehado and smothered with mayonnaise. Then, the garnishing will be artistically sprinkled on top of the mayonnaise-covered fish separately in alternating stripes, or any design. The designs are limited only by your creativity, so let the fish be your canvass. Tastes good as it looks good!

Escabecheng Isda

When it comes to Escabeche or Sweet and Sour Fish, the preferred variety is the Lapu-lapu. Its tender and delicious meat is ideal for this dish of Chinese progeny. The ideal size of the fish is about 1kg in weight, which is fried whole until the outside is crispy and the inside still juicy (think of Chickenjoy...). The sweet and sour sauce is prepared separately by combining tomato sauce, vinegar, sugar and salt (or soy sauce) in a sauce pan over slow fire. In some cases, I would put in pineapple juice and chunks for variety. Garnishing would include onions, bell pepper, carrot, spring onion leaves and ginger. The sauce is poured over the fried fish just before being served so the sweet tangy taste of the sauce will complement the contrasting crispiness and juiciness of the fish.

However, preparing the sauce need a deft hand and perfect timing, as the improper use of vinegar can spell disaster on the brew. If not done properly, the sourness induced by the vinegar can be too strong for comfort ("buhay ang suka", as the old folks would say) . A perfect sweet and sour sauce should have your tongue alternately savoring the sweet, sour, tangy and salty flavors playing on your mouth as you chew on the crunchy fish meat. And a word of caution: it is a mortal sin to use catsup instead of tomato sauce. It’s like using catsup for Italian pasta. If you want an all-natural recipe, then fresh tomatoes cooked long enough to attain the consistency of tomato sauce can be used as an alternative. No short-cuts for this dish!

Rellenong Bangus

One of my favorite fiesta dishes is the Rellenong Bangus. Although it is very convenient, and deliciously satisfying to eat, the preparation involved is very tedious. The fish needs to be prepared carefully, with the meat separated from the skin without damaging it. The whole skin is marinated using soy sauce and calamansi to give it a distinctive flavor. Then the meat is boiled, deboned, flaked and then sauteed with green peas, carrot, bell pepper, onions and garlic. For variation, potato and raisins are added to the mixture. The mixture is then stuffed into the marinated skin and sewed up. The stuffed fish is wrapped in banana leaf and then fried in a big “kawali”. The relleno is then served on a bandehado with garnishes of sliced tomato, native lettuce and onions. This time, feel free to indulge in catsup as it is the preferred condiment for this very Filipino dish.

We'll explore more fiesta fare on the next installments of this series. Kain na po!

Sapientia Edificat?

2011-01-27T12:04:00.012+08:00

We were in 4th year college when St. Louis University (SLU) celebrated its 75th founding anniversary during the school year 1985-86. Young as we were then, it was one celebration that we were mighty proud of. Twenty five years after we left SLU to face life in the real world, we were beckoned again to relive those happy memories - this time to celebrate the SLU Centennial. One hundred years is definitely worth a grand celebration, and I would not miss it for the world.

So off to Baguio I went together with 4 other college friends. I have not been to the SLU campus since I graduated 25 years ago, even if I have been back to Baguio a couple of times after graduation. The organizers did a good job in hyping up the event. It was supposed to be a grand celebration – after all, we would have to wait another 100 years to be able to have a celebration of such grand scale again. I was excited to see my former teachers and schoolmates. I wanted to see what had changed, what had the seeds of activism and reawakening we sowed during the waning years of martial law had grown into. We were looking at almost 300 kilometers of grueling land travel, trekking through dark winding roads enveloped in fog and mist. But we were undaunted.

We left rain-soaked Manila around 9 in the evening of Friday, and it was almost 3 in the morning of Saturday when we arrived at the guest house where we stayed. We knew we had to be up early so we can join the morning activities, but we can’t seem to sleep at all. We were conjuring up images of thousands of SLU alumni crowding Session Road, of hotels and inns enjoying brisk business with the influx of visitors. We felt lucky to have traveled at the most unholy hour so we can avoid the traffic. It will be a grand celebration just as they said it will be.

Disappointed - that is the most charitable word that I can think of to describe how it felt when we finally went to SLU early Saturday morning for what was supposed to be the first day of the 2-day Grand SLU Centennial Alumni Homecoming. It was anything but grand. Where were the happy, excited alumni who would fill the streets leading to SLU? We were late for the first event, the Centennial Mass at the SLU Chapel, so we parked at the Baguio Cathedral thinking that the campus grounds would be full of cars as there must be thousands of alumni coming for this once-in-a-hundred-years event. We would not want to be stuck in traffic and be late for the events.

We then walked through the Boys High compound and exited to Assumption Road so we can enter the SLU Campus through the Sacred Heart Hospital. This was our regular route when we were young students on a shoestring budget. It was therefore so strange to see very few people on the road and on the campus itself. People were going about their business as if there was nothing special happening that day. I was even joking with my friends that maybe we got the dates wrong. Surely, there should have been a more festive atmosphere. We went to the chapel and caught the tail-end of the Centennial Mass - where only a handful of people attended. I felt bad, but consoled myself with the thought that people might have traveled far like us and they will be late. Or maybe they skipped the Mass and were already waiting in the gym for the program to start so they can get better seats. Maybe... hopefully...

After the Mass, we went up to the Burgos Gym, passing the grandstand by the parking lot where we held many protest actions which eventually led to the rebirth of the Student Council and an independent student publication in the early 80's. It felt good standing on those historical steps, reliving the days when there was more idealism, when we were willing to risk our dreams and aspirations to fight for what we believe was right and just. Unfortunately, when we reached the homecoming venue, our elation and nostalgic trip back to our younger days easily turned into disappointment and frustration. There were very few people in the cavernous hall of the gym, and not a few people were turning away and leaving. Where were the alumni? The Facebook site said almost 600 have signed up. I was pretty sure there are a lot of SLU faculty and employees who are alumni themselves. Baguio City and Northern Luzon is SLU country, so where were the Louisians?

When I first heard that the registration fee was ONE THOUSAND PESOS, I thought it was a big joke. Surely, the organizers would want to have as many alumni to be able to attend this momentous event. They would not keep them away with such an expensive registration fee. When it dawned upon us that we would really have to cough out 2-days worth of minimum wage to be able to become part of this important milestone, it became clear to us why there were so very few alumni who actually came despite the historical significance of this event. Yes, all 5 of us may be able to afford the thousand-peso registration fee – but it was just so WRONG. It simply means that those who cannot part with their hard-earned thousand bucks are not welcome. Obviously, the event was meant for those who have the money to spare. The 2-day Centennial feast that the organizers prepared for the Alumni requires a P1,000.00 fee on the first day, and another P2,500.00 fee if you want to play golf on the 2nd day. Only the Centennial Mass did not involve a fee - and we missed it. We decided to skip the event altogether and joined the others who left disappointed.

What did the organizers hope to achieve with this event? Isn’t it to gather the alumni to commemorate this historical and momentous milestone, regardless of what had become of them since they left SLU? Or is it to raise funds even if it means the exclusion of those who will not be able to afford to shell out the registration fees? And since the election of the officers was done during this exclusive event, what happened to the principles of democratic participation when only those who can afford the one thousand pesos registration fee were able to cast their votes? This is like saying only those who pay their taxes can vote during elections. Would it have been better to have an Alumni Homecoming that welcomes everyone, and then have a separate fund-raising event for those who can afford and who want to help the association’s projects?

The Organizers squandered a golden opportunity to gather together the school’s alumni wherever they may be now, or whatever they may have achieved in life. The homecoming should not have been just for those who have succeeded and made good in life and can afford to financially help the Alumni Association in its projects. SLU was established so that it can be the light that shines for all those who would otherwise find it hard to attain higher education in Manila and other centers of education. SLU provided the golden opportunity for the youth of the Cordilleras and Northern Luzon to have access to quality education. The elitist centennial homecoming was everything that SLU NEVER stood for.

It could have been a defining moment for the Alumni Association, when it could have been the instrument by which SLU can gather as many alumni as possible to celebrate our school’s legacy of education that transforms and builds. It could have been the spark, the catalyst that will inspire the alumni to participate more actively in future activities and projects. We let go of that once in a hundred years chance. But all is not lost. Louisians from all walks of life must come together and reclaim the proud legacy that our Alma Mater has entrusted to us. We are the Alumni of SLU. We are the light that can transform. Let us build again.

A Birthday Tribute to Nanay

2011-01-17T23:44:00.001+08:00

She would have turned 83 today. She is an ordinary woman who had an extra-ordinary life. She was, and will always be my mother, my Nanay.

It is amazing how Nanay turned out to be the mother that she was, when she had lost her own mother when she was just 7 months old. She had wanted to be a teacher, but she had her first child when she was barely 20, followed in succession by 8 more. She did not make it to a classroom, but she taught valuable lessons in life to her 9 children.

Nanay was far from perfect. She had her moods, her ups and downs. She gets angry, she cries when she feels bad. But she was never haughty, she kept her feet firmly on the ground. She was fair to her workers and to everyone else she dealt with. She knows the dignity of labor, and made sure that her children know this as well early on.

She earned her own keep, but never considered the fruits of her labor as her own. Whatever she earned, it was shared with her family and those who came to her for help. She was a doting daughter to her father, and a loving and solicitous sister to her brothers and sisters. Her father remarried even before she can walk, and she was left to the care of her aunts. But she never showed any resentment towards him. She adored him, and was devastated when he passed away. Her best friend was her elder sister Ate Mely, and was fiercely loyal and protective of her Kuya Rusty. Yet, she also loved her younger half brothers and half sisters as if they had the same mother.

Nanay loved Tatay the best way she knew. She was not showy, but she supported him in all that he did. She was an entrepreneur extraordinaire, but remained a full-time mother and wife at the same time. When Nanay got sick in her later years, Tatay took care of her and never left her side. I did not see it then, but only a love so deep, so intense and so passionate could have seen them through those difficult years.

It’s been 12 years since Nanay passed on, but her spirit lives on in the people whose lives she had touched. Her accomplishments lay not in what she had achieved in life, but what we had become in life because of her.

Happy Birthday Nanay!

Resurrection

2011-01-12T11:59:00.003+08:00

Mea culpa.

I have not been writing on this blog as often as I should. I have been preoccupied with so many things – mostly work and, well, sleeping and just simply daydreaming. Honestly, I have been too lazy to really go out like I used to do. The comfort of my room has been my refuge and my Shangri-la of late. I can cocoon myself in my room the entire weekend and feel not having lost anything.

Maybe I should blame it on my weight gain. I read it somewhere that people who gain weight tend to be more sluggish. Seems to me lately that sleep is the most precious thing in the whole wide world, and my bed is the best thing that was ever invented by man. Sleep, sleep, sleep. That’s all I look forward to when weekend comes around.

Or maybe I should also blame it on Facebook. Almost like a ritual, I find myself online on my netbook and logging into FB whenever I am home. A comfy bedroom with temperature control, a housekeeper who dotes on me and brings anything and everything I need right into my bedroom, and DSL that keeps me connected to my online friends – definitely a sure-fire combination to ensure that I stay oblivious to what is happening outside the four corners of my bedroom.

I need to get a life.

Maybe change is what I need - a change that can really make a difference in my life. I have always preached about change that is dynamic, innovative, edgy and life-changing. It is a mantra that I never fail to use as a springboard of discussions with colleagues and clients. Maybe somewhere along the way, I grew tired of dreaming about change. Maybe I stopped hoping that meaningful change can happen in my lifetime.

I stopped being angry at the undisciplined drivers who make driving through our little town's puny main road a stress-busting daily struggle. I stopped being mad at how our government seems so helpless with the daily chaos we go through. I stopped at waiting for the traffic aides in red to do something about the mayhem on the street. I ceased to be incensed at how Pasig, Makati and Taguig bully our little town and treat it as their garbage dump, end-of-the-road garage and cheap bed space for its workforce.

I simply lost the appetite and will for change. The longing stopped when the anger ceased.

But I am fighting back, getting angry once more. And my pen, or my keyboard to be more precise, will help me on as it always did in the past. And so I am back again, writing and blogging. I need to see more of the world again through my little town, so I can write about what I see, what I hear, what I feel. I need to walk the streets. I need to smell the stench of the river, savour the taste of fishball and crispy fried chicken skin, and feel the heat of people as they bump into each other on the cramped sidewalks.

This is the real deal. This is life - Redux.

Hindi ka Nag-iisa

2009-11-05T11:16:00.002+08:00

Hello, PLDT?

2009-10-19T15:05:00.002+08:00

I came upon a little-known fact about my PLDT subscription because of Typhoon Ondoy. The phone services in our area in Pateros/Pasig went down in the evening of 10 October 2009. When I called up PLDT's 172 hotline, I was told this was due to a major cable problem, and that they would not be able to provide an estimate on when services can be restored. In the past week or so, I have been calling their repair hotline, and in the few times I got lucky and was able to talk to a customer service representative, they still could not provide a commitment on this.

However, what really surprised me was their answer on whether we are entitled to a rebate for the disruption of service. All the customer service representatives that I was able to talk to confirmed that when services have been restored, I should call their Billing Department to apply for the rebate. Otherwise, no rebate will be made. This is even if I have already reported the problem to their call center.

Are their Technical and Billing departments separate companies that are not capable of sharing information? I am pretty sure the Technical Department is aware of the service disruptions, especially those as massive and as persistent as what happened to our service area. Can they not share this information with their Billing Department so that rebates can be automatically credited to affected subscribers? Why are they passing on this responsibility to the subscribers?

Let's do some math.

Assuming that each subscriber is paying P999 a month, and there was a 10-day service disruption. This translates to a rebate of about P333 per subscriber. Assuming again that out of 10,000 affected subscribers, 80% are not aware of this policy or do not have the patience of Job to wait to be connected to the billing department. That is a whopping P2,664,000 overpayment to PLDT! Now imagine how many household have been paying PLDT for non-existent services since they implemented this patently stupid policy.

Is this onerous policy of PLDT not covered by the Consumer Protection Law? If they can grant a rebate for service disruptions if the subscriber asks for it and their Technical Department verifies the complaint as valid, why can't they do this on their own and provide the adjustment automatically? They have the system and all information in place, why put the burden on the consumer who may not even be aware that they need to call the billing department to get the rebate that they are entitled to in the first place?

Highway robbery. Scam. Predatory trade practices. Is that how you call it?

Waterworld

2009-09-27T14:10:00.003+08:00

The rain just kept pouring, without letup, without mercy. It rained like it never did before. My Tatay, who is all of 84 years old, could not remember any other time in his life when it rained like this before. It simply was unprecedented.

Thus, when we woke up Saturday morning, the flood water was already creeping up the ground floor of our house. When this house was built in 1976 to replace the old one, my parents made sure that the ground would be higher than road-level. When they raised the road some years back, it was still fairly within the same level. However, when the non-stop rain came, both the road and our house were not ready for the amount of rainfall that came.

In a way, we were still lucky. The water subsided after a few hours. In other areas, waters were as high as 10 feet. People were trapped on attics and rooftops. Yes, we were, and still are, inconvenienced with the power outage. But who are we to complain? We are dry and well in our own homes. Others are not so lucky, still waiting to be rescued from rooftops amidst what had become a waterworld.

We can only thank God for sparing our homes from further damage, and for making sure that all family members are safe and sound. We continue to pray for those who were not as fortunate.

7 Reasons to vote for Noynoy

2009-09-27T14:07:00.003+08:00

From: A Family from Baguio City, Philippines
(courtesy of Nato Villanueva, NoyPI member)

1. We see the handiwork of God in his candidacy –Ninoy died for the country and his widow became president after people power. After battling cancer, Cory went home to the Lord which ushered in an unprecedented showing of support and love for a former president. This showing of support miraculously bankrolled into a people’s call for Noynoy to run for president even if he had no plans of doing so. These events could only be orchestrated by a sovereign God who has compassion over nations shackled by the blight and darkness of arrogant and shameless corruption.

2. He inspires hope — Prior to Noynoy’s candidacy, we were resigned to our fate of just choosing the utopian lesser evil among traditional, same old, eager beaver presidentiables. None of them inspires hope. But all that changed when Noynoy responded to that God-given calling in his life to serve the Filipino people whom his father died for. Tears of hope from the hearts and eyes of ordinary Filipinos flowed when he declared his candidacy. Upon learning of Noynoy’s candidacy, a Bureau of Customs employee said, “Salamat. Pwede na ulit mangarap.”

3. He is honest — Ballsy Aquino Cruz, Noynoy’s sister declared on national media that she is willing to be shot if anybody could present evidence that her brother is a thief. This sincerity is unparalleled even among the closest family and relatives of the other presidentiables.. None of the other presidentiables’ sisters or brothers would like to end up dead. Noynoy was reared in an environment of honesty as exemplified by the lives of his parents. Indeed, an apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

4. He has strength of character — We don’t need a president who will hang a shingle in Malacanang that reads, ” Business as Usual”. He is the only candidate that we believe when he says he will clean house because he is clean.

5. He is humble and not in love with power — Everything about him is not contrived. Ordinary people like us could see through spin doctor- managed acting among public officials and candidates. But we see in Noynoy the sincere simplicity of a simple man, who although pedigreed, is not self-centered, power and recognition hungry. He doesn’t mind having thinning hair, simple clothes and a down-to-earth manner of speaking. More so, his humble spirit was manifested when he sought God’s direction first before plunging in the presidential race.

We could see that his reluctance to seek the presidency is genuine. We believe that power should be given to those who have strength of character because they are not obsessed nor in love with it. And yes, Mr. Gary Olivar, Malacanang spokesman, Noynoy is his own man because true manhood could only come from a humble spirit.

6. He alone could mobilize people power — No other presidentiable could ask the Filipino people to bankroll his campaign and credibly call for volunteers. In this country where the norm is patronage politics and presidentiables spend billions just to win an election, Noynoy is the only presidential candidate as of press time who is being swamped by a snowballing groundswell volunteer support from unknown, ordinary Filipinos from Luzon to Visayas without any budget. Noynoy is the anti-thesis of patronage politics because he could ask for volunteers to spend time and resources to campaign for him.

7. He is the good in this fight between good and evil — No other opposition candidate had earned the most vicious attacks from Malacanang and the other political parties who are fielding candidates in the presidential race than Noynoy.

In fact, some parties are already demolishing the people’s perception and argument that the 2010 presidential race is a fight against good and evil. Noynoy’s detractors would like to brush aside the morality of the elections because morality in government leadership is not a campaign strategy that could propel their traditional, same old, eager beaver presidential candidates.

It is true what Earl Spencer said ,that true goodness is threatening to those who are on the other side of the moral spectrum. In this fight versus good and evil, Noynoy credibly represents the good.

In his declaration speech, he was unmindful of politics or a possible loss of votes when he said he desires justice over the unresolved issues and cases the Marcoses committed against Filipinos. That to us, is true goodness, because it is a conviction that stands up for what is right no matter what the consequences are.

Mabuhay ka Noynoy!

Mabuhay ang Pilipinas!

Sa wikang Pilipino (isinalin ni Angelo Guison):

7 Dahilan Kung Bakit Dapat Suportahan si Noynoy

1. Kamay ng Diyos ang kumikilos sa laban ni Noy- Namatay si Ninoy para sa bayan at naging pangulo ang kanyang biyuda matapos ang People Power. Nang ginupo si Cory ng kanser at bumalik sa piling ng Panginoon, nag-umapaw ang pakikiramay at pagmamahal. Ang suporta at pagmamahal kay Cory ay nagbunsod ng panawagan upang tumakbo si Noynoy sa pagka pangulo kahit wala ito sa kanyang mga plano. Tanging ang dakilang Panginoon lamang na may pagmamahal sa bayang binalot ng kadiliman at ginapos ng tanikala ng korupsyon ang may ganitong kapangyarihan.

2. Kinakatawan ni Noy ang pag-asa- Taun-taon bago ang kandidatura ni Noynoy nasanay tayo na ang pipiliin lamang natin bilang Pangulo ay yung “lesser evil” o pinaka hindi masama sa mga masasama, walang ni isa man ang nakakakitaan natin ng pag-asa. Lahat ng ito ay nagbago nang harapin ni Noynoy ang panawagang Pagsilbihan ang Sambayanang Pilipino na siya ring pinag-alayan ng buhay ni Ninoy. Nabuhay ang pag-asa sa mga puso ng bawat Pilipino nang idineklara niya ng pagtakbo bilang pangulo. Sabi ng isang taga Bureau of Customs matapos malaman ang pagtakbo ni Noy “Salamat. Pwede na ulit mangarap.”

3.Matapat si Noy- Sinabi sa telebisyon ng ate ni Noy na si Ballsy Aquino-Cruz na handa siyang magpabaril kung mayroong makakapaglabas ng mga ebidensya na nagnanakaw ang kapatid. Ganoon ang kanyang pananampalataya sa pagiging matuwid ng kapatid. At walang pamilya o kamag-anak ng ibang nagnanais na maging pangulo sa 2010 ang makapagsasabi nito. Lumaki si Noy ng matapat dahil ito matapat ding nabuhay ang kanyang mga magulang. Tunay ngang ang bunga ay hindi babagsak ng malayo sa puno nito.

4. May integridad at maganda ang reputasyon ni Noy- hindi natin kailangan ng pangulo na maglalagay ng karatula sa Malakanyang na nagsasabing “Business as Usual o Tuloy Lang ang Lahat”. Siya lang ang kapanipaniwala sa lahat ng kandidato kapag sinabi niyang itutuwid ko ang mga baluktot dahil ako’y matuwid.

5. Mapagkumbaba at hindi ganid sa Kapangyarihan si Noy-Ang lahat kay Noy ay totoo. Walang palabas, walang pakitang tao. Naamoy at nahahalata ng kahit simpleng tao ang mga pagkukunwari at mga pakitang tao ng mga pulitiko at kandidato. Ngunit ang nakikita natin kay Noy imahe ng isang simpleng tao, kahit na nanggaling sa prominente at makapangyarihang angkan ay nanatiling di makasarili at di ganid sa kapangyarihan at yaman. Hindi malaking bagay kay Noy ang pagnipis ng kanyang buhok, simpleng pananamit at pananalita. Lalo niya pang pinatunayan ang kababaang loob nang humingi siya ng patnubay sa Diyos bago nagdesisyong tumakbo bilang pangulo.

Kitang-kita na totoo ang pag-aatubili niya sa pagkandidato noong una. Naniniwala kami na dapat ipagkaloob ang kapangyarihan sa taong may integridad at matuwid dahil hindi kailanman siya mahuhumaling dito. At oo G. Gary Olivar, tagapagsalita ng Malakanyang, si Noy ay may sariling pagkakakilanlan at pagkatao dahil ang tunay at malinis na pagkatao ay nagmumula lamang sa kababaang-loob.

6. Si Noy lamang ang makakapagpakilos sa taumbayan- walang ibang kandidato sa pagka-pangulo ang maaring humiling sa Sambayanang Pilipino na tustusan at magkusang-loob sa pagtulong sa kanyang kandidatura. Sa ating bansa na kung saan talamak ang pulitika ng pagtangkilik (paggamit ng yaman ng bansa upang makakuha ng boto) at gumagasta ng bilyong piso ang mga nagnanais maging pangulo, si Noy lamang (habang sinusulat ito) ang kandidato na inuulan at binabaha ng boluntaryong suporta ng mga ordinaryong Pilipino mula sa lahat ng sulok ng bansa. Si Noy ang kabaligtaran ng mga pulitiko na nagnanakaw sa kaban ng bayan kapalit ng boto-dahil kaya niyang humingi ng oras, tulong at rekurso sa sambayanan.

7. Si Noy ang mabuti sa labang ng masama at mabuti- wala nang nakatanggap ng mas marami, kaliwa’t kanang pambabatikos mula sa administrasyon, sa lahat ng kakandidato bilang pangulo kundi si Noynoy.

Ang totoo, may ilang partido na nagsasabing ang halalan sa 2010 ay hindi laban ng masama at mabuti. Nais nilang isantabi ang moralidad ng eleksyon dahil ang matuwid na pamumuno sa gobyerno ay hindi aayon sa kanilang mga pambatong atat sa kapangyarihan at trapo- silang mga “lumang tugtugin”.

Tama ang sinabi ni Earl Spencer na “ang tunay na kabutihan ay magsisilbing babala sa mga taong ang moralidad ay nasa kabilang dulo. sa laban ng mabuti at masama, si Noy ang may kredibilidad na kumatawan sa mabuti.

Sa kanyang pahayag ng pagkandidato, isinantabi ni Noy ang pulitika o ang posibleng kabawasan sa boto nang sinabi niyang hangad niya ang hustisya para sa mga biktima ng mga Marcos. Ito ay nagpapakita ng tunay ng kabutihang loob, dahil ito ay paninidigan para sa kung ano ang tama maging ano man ang kahihinatnan at kapalit.

Mabuhay ka Noynoy!

Mabuhay ang Pilipinas!

Making a Stand for Change

2009-09-15T16:19:00.001+08:00

Papaano nga ba?

2009-08-22T10:36:00.000+08:00

Hindi masama ang maghanapbuhay. Sa katunayan, dapat lamang na ang bawat isa sa atin ay mayroong pinagkakakitaan. Ngunit ang bawat galaw natin ay dapat nasa tama at walang ibang minumolestiya. Ito lamang ang tama at makatarungang paraan upang lahat tayo ay mabuhay ng marangal, mapayapa at maunlad dito sa ating bayan.

Bilang isang mamamayan ng Pateros, nais ko pong idagdag ang aking munting tinig sa dumaraming hinaing ukol sa lumalalang kalagayan ng trapiko sa ating bayan, lalo na sa Poblacion.

Una, hindi dapat payagan ng pamahalaan ang anumang uri ng terminal ng jeep, ng FX o ng traysikel sa anumang bahagi ng mga lansangan. Ang mga lansangan ay ginawa upang daluyan ng mga sasakyan, hindi upang gawing garahe o terminal. Napakaliliit na nga ng ating mga kalye, ginawa pang terminal ang halos bawat kanto. Ang sino mang magsabi na walang terminal sa mga lansangan ay bulag sa katotohanan. Mayroong mga nagsasabi na ang mga terminal na ito ay hindi ilegal dahil pinahintulutan ng munisipyo. Kung mayroon mang ordinansa na nagpahintulot sa mga terminal na ito sa lansangan, dapat lamang na ang mga ordinansang ito ay ipawalang-bisa sapagkat ang mga ito ay ilegal at hindi naaayon sa pangkahalatang kapakanan ng mga mamamayan. Ang mga lansangan ay para sa kapakanan ng lahat, at hindi ng iilan.

Pangalawa, hindi dapat payagan ang mga may tindahan sa tabi ng kalye, lalo na sa Poblacion at sa iba pang pangunahing lansangan, na magpatuloy sa pangangalakal kung wala silang sapat na lugar kung saan maaaring manatili ang kanilang mga kostumer. Dahil sinagad ang tindahan sa kani-kanilang mga boundary, ang mga kostumer ay napipilitang manatili sa bangketa, at ang mga pedestrian ay walang magawa kundi maglakad sa kalye at makipag-agawan ng espasyo sa mga sasakyan. Higit pa sa una, hindi dapat payagan ang mga ilegal na pagtitinda sa mga bangketa. Pinahihintulutan ng pamahalaan ang mga may-ari ng mga tindahang ito na magnegosyo ngunit hindi para makapuwerhisyo sa mga tao.

Pangatlo, kailangan ng disiplina para sa mga mamamayan. Huwag sumakay sa mga jeep or traysikel na nakakaabala sa daan. Huwag bumili sa mga tindahang nakabara sa mga bangketa. Maglakad lamang sa tamang lugar, huwag sa lansangan. Kung walang tatatangkilik, maaaring matutong lumugar sa tama ang mga pasaway na driver. Konting tiis sa paglalakad at matatamo natin ang bepisyo ng maayos na daloy ng trapiko. Ang mga paaralan tulad ng Pateros Catholic School at Pateros Municipal High School ay dapat tumulong sa pamamagitan ng pagtuturo at pagpapaalala sa kanilang mga mag-aaral ng wastong ugali at pamamaraan ng paggamit ng ating mga lansangan. Kung gagawin ng tama ng mga bata, baka sakaling mahiya ang mga matatanda.

At ang huli at ang pinakamahalaga, dapat may political will ang pamahalaan upang ipatupad ng patas ang mga batas trapiko. Hulihin at tiketan ang mga lumalabag na driver. Pagsabihan ang mga mamamayang naglalakad at nakatigil ng wala sa lugar. Gawing "no parking" zone ang Morcilla St. Huwag pahintulutan ang mga jeep at traysikel terminals sa mga lansangan. Bakit nga ba sa dinami-dami ng mga traffic enforcers na nakakalat sa bayan ay para bagang wala silang magawa sa mga driver na ayaw sumunod sa kaayusan? Mag-compute tayo: sa bawat jeep or traysikel na pumapasada sa Pateros ay mayroong 2 o 3 na driver, sa bawat driver ay mayroong 5 hanggang 10 na kapamilya na maaaring bumoto. Hindi ba nakakatakot na banggain ang ganitong karaming mga botante? Kailangan natin ng malawakang programa upang hindi lamang maisaayos ang ating mga lansangan, kundi maisaayos din ang kabuhayan ng ating mga kababayang umaasa sa mga hanapbuhay na maapektuhan. Sa huli, ang lahat ay dapat makinabang sa anumang pagbabago tungo sa kaayusan ng ating bayan. Kailangan lamang ay ang paninindigan at tapang ng loob na maisakatuparan ang mga pagbabago.

Taga Pateros po ako. Disiplinado at may kapwa-tao!

San Joaquin Gridlock

2009-07-24T17:01:00.006+08:00

I am a very patient person. But today I am taking an exception.

It's there for everyone to see and experience - day in and day out, night and day, rain or shine.

Whether you are on a jeepney, an FX or in your private car, you are fair game. No one is spared - unless you can brave the heat or the rain and start walking instead of frying in your seat.

I am talking about the worsening traffic condition on half of the San Joaquin intersection in the boundary between Pateros and Pasig. I say half because traffic seems to pile up only along the Pateros - Bambang leg of the four-way intersection. In plain language, those coming in and out of Pateros better be ready to sit it out as traffic moves inch by inch.

Anyone who passes by this route will not fail to notice this anomalous injustice to Pateros residents. Traffic typically comes to a halt in front of the Iglesia ni Cristo chapel. Then it slowly inches its way past the intersection - two to three cars at a time. You try not to be angry, telling yourself this must be a very busy intersection.

But then when you are just two or three cars away from the front of the line and the precious intersection crossing is within sight, the anomaly starts to unfold right before your bewildered eyes. If expletives coupled with overheating engines and wasted gas and time can kill, those Blue Boys manning the intersection would all be serenely smiling from under a glass cover. Parang natutulog lang...

The intersection falls within the jurisdiction of Pasig, and their Blue Boys are all over the place. And you do not need to have an IQ higher than your age to understand what these Blue Boys are trying to do.

It is quite obvious that they are there not to make sure that traffic is running smoothly in this very busy intersection. Instead, they are there to make sure that traffic coming from M. Concepcion St. gets into Elizco Road as fast as the blink of an eye. Never mind if the people on the Pateros side fry on their sweat.

The heck! These Blue Boys keep vehicles on the Pateros side at bay even when vehicles from Buting have been wheezing by so very far and few in between. While trying to recall some anger management tips I read on the Internet, I tried some simple math. I counted. For every 3 or 5 vehicles coming from Pateros, there are about 50 that they let pass from the other sides. Now, is that not protectionism or what?

One for you, two for me. Three for you, six for me. Fair enough? The rich kid sure knows how to share his blessings with the poor neighbor.

But we cannot begrudge the Pasig Blue Boys for making sure their portion of the intersection is traffic free. After all, they will protect the businesses that make sure they get their salaries. What gets my goat is the seeming apathy of the local officials of Pateros. I wonder where they pass by when they have to go Megamall? Are they so blind to this obviously unfair practice of our more wealthy neighbor?

Illegal settlers who hold the vote in Makati killed the Pateros River. They choke the national road leading to our town with illegally parked vehicles, illegal FX and jeepney terminals, illegal vendors above and under our bridge. They even have the gall to call our beloved "Toll Bridge" the Comembo Bridge in a billboard they put on both sides of the bridge. We let Makati trample on us, now are we letting Pasig do the same? Who's next, Taguig?

If we let our neighbors treat us so shabbily, we might just as well elect a Barangay Chairman for Peteros in 2010 instead. Will it be Taguig, Pasig or Makati? Take your pick.

Me? I am staying put. I love my little town, warts and all. This is home like no other.

Taga Pateros ako. Disiplinado at may kapwa-tao!

Are we safe in our own homes?

2009-06-30T09:54:00.012+08:00

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How do you tell a 3-year old kid that his Daddy will no longer be around to bring him to Timezone?

A week after they celebrated Father’s Day, my niece lost her husband in a most violent manner. Their kids – the younger one not even a year old, lost their father forever. They were together not more than four years, a young couple going through the ups and downs of building a bright, happy and secured future for themselves and their children. And then it was all over in a few minutes one early Saturday morning. It was so sudden, so unexpectedly brutal that we could not even begin to comprehend the gravity of the crime committed against this very young family.

At half past one in the morning of 27 June 2009, Douglas Duane Javier Lim – Dingdong to family and friends, went home to get ready for work. Work for him was the graveyard shift at the airport as a Special Agent of the Bureau of Immigration. As he always did, he went down his green Ford Expedition in front of their house in Bahay Toro in Quezon City and opened the gate. He then went back to the car, parked it inside the open garage and then went down again to close the gate.

Three successive gunshots punctuated the night air. Roused from sleep, his brother rushed outside to check the noise coming from the garage. Although still dazed, he saw two men by the gate and another one driving the Expedition out of the garage. When they saw him, they pointed the gun at him with the menacing look of the devil ready to drag him to hell. The two men then also boarded the car, all three of them now on the front seats, and then fled into the dark. Still too shocked and bewildered by what had just happened, he rushed to where the men left Dingdong.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

Dingdong was sprawled face down in the small walkway leading to the side of the house. He was bleeding profusely. His father and another brother, who had also gone out of the house, rushed the barely breathing Dingdong to the hospital. Although very weak from massive loss of blood, he managed to complain how hard it was for him to breath. And then he closed his eyes for the last time. Twenty minutes after he was admitted to the emergency room of the Capitol Medical Center, he was declared dead due to the gunshot wounds he sustained during the attack.

In what may have been less than 5 minutes, 34 years of a beautiful and promising life got ended violently. Nobody saw what really happened during those fatal minutes. The autopsy indicates gunpowder burn on his left hand. He could have held on to the gun when it fired, wounding his palm and wrist. There were also 2 shots in the chest, with one puncturing his lungs. Of the 2 chest wounds, one was inflicted while he had his back turned away from the gunman, and the other was inflicted while he was already sprawled on the pavement. The fatal shot went through the side of the abdomen, slicing through his liver, intestines and right kidney.

From this autopsy report, we can only try to painfully reconstruct those horror-filled final moments of his life: When he was already closing the gate, the three men suddenly barged in with a gun pointed at him. Startled, he might have tried to deflect the gun with his left hand. He was not left-handed, but it was the free hand at that time as he was probably using his right hand to close the sliding gate. The gun went off the first time while he was still holding it by the barrel, piercing his palm and wrist and then going though his abdomen area. Although already wounded, he might have managed to run away from his attackers. As he turned his back and made a dash for the house, the gunman shot him again. He might have fallen down, but still tried to make it to the house. The gunman still went after him, and with another merciless shot hit him in the chest while he was already down and bleeding.

And then as quickly as they came, they fled using Dingdong's own car as the getaway vehicle. The lone guard at the gate claims there were no other vehicles coming in or out at around the time of the crime. Nor did he find it strange that three unfamiliar men, who do not include Dingdong, would squeeze themselves in the front seat and drive like madmen through the exit.

The men who attacked Dingdong did not just leave behind a dying man. They also ended the hopes and aspirations of a young family who now must mourn his untimely death even as they ponder a future without a husband and a father. Theirs was a family trying to find its roots. Theirs was a love that have sailed through rough waters, and made it through each time. Theirs was a dream that was just beginning to unfold. With 3 shots of a gun, all these were gone.

It was a story straight out of the daily tabloids, the kind of news that screams out of our TV newscasts to feed on the insatiable hunger of the masses for sensationalized police stories. We smugly dismiss them as those things make us shrug our shoulders – shit happens to people, tough luck. We become complacent, jaded and apathetic even. Until it happens to us, or to people dear to us. Then suddenly we realize that just like everyone else we are fair game to criminals lurking in our streets, in the dark corners of our communities and even in the what is supposed to be safe havens of our homes - like vultures waiting for the right time to strike.

On Thursday, we sent Dingdong off to his final resting place. The endless rows of flower offerings and the many people who came to condole with the family at all hours of the day are testament to Dingdong's endearing and enduring ties with people he touched during his lifetime. When we looked at his fallen body for the last time, we remember his mischievous laughter, his ready smile and warm embraces and the many memories we shared in the short time he was part of our families. He leaves behind a grieving family and friends who must come to terms with not just the sudden loss, but more so with the senselessness of it all.

When asked if he wants to go to Timezone, Dingdong's little boy shook his head. Asked why not, he simply said, “Daddy’s gone”.

A husband, a father, a son, a brother, an uncle, a friend is gone - so soon and so painfully. So is our mistaken notion that we are safe in our own homes. Will we ever feel safe again?

~~~oOo~~~

You can post your online tributes and eulogies for Dingdong at

www.douglasduane.blogspot.com

~~~oOo~~~

Viva Santa Marta de Pateros - Fiesta 2009

2009-02-08T13:34:00.007+08:00

It was quite a pleasant surprise when the procession passed by our street early in the morning. We somehow got used to having it after lunch, after each barangay went their separate ways due to some disagreements with the caretakers of the original image (I still do not know the entire story behind this schism so I would not dwell on it.). Anyway, the marshals said this procession was the officially sanctioned one, and that it will go through all the traditional route.

And of course, I'm happy to note that the old ladies and gentlemen who dance the Pandango for Sta Marta were in full force in their colorful patadyongs and swaying graciously to the lively folk music. Unfortunately, music was again provided not by a brass band but played through an amplifier mounted on a truck. It would have really been better if the organizers had tapped the services of a brass band instead of using canned music. I went to both the Ati-Atihan Festival in Aklan and the Sto Nino procession in Roxas Blvd last January, and in both occasions there were as many as 50 brass bands and/or Drum and Lyre contingents! Why can't we have at least one brass band provide real music for our beloved Sta Marta? For the life of me!

Do you remember the paper mache horse? This used to be a staple in the tiange that would miraculously spring up in the main road in front of the church come fiesta time. Seems like it's making a comeback as well.

Everyone was worried that this chubby little boy would accidentally lose grip of the mock bolo he was holding and spinning around while dancing. Again, a happy return to traditions, although in the olden days a fully grown up man is designated as the magbabalut who slew the crocodile. And where was the crocodile, by the way? As the good Bishop San Diego noted in his homily the previous day, the river has dried up so the crocodiles are now amongst us. Touche!

Young people also made their presence felt, and made a very clear statement that the new generation of Pandango dancers ang mamanata are here to stay. Their shirts say it all: New Generation. Hail to the Youth!

I am not sure if what they brought out for the procession is the Sta Marta Matanda (original image) or the Callejera or Bata (new image). During the Mass to designate the San Roque Parish Church as the Diocesan Shrine of Sta Marta, people were talking about the return of the old image in the place of honor. I do hope that the conflict had been resolved, and that the designation of Pateros as the Diocesan Shrine had brought about its first miracle in the hearts of the devotees of Sta Marta!

An of course, the pasubo will always be awaited by the throng of people following the image. Although balut is no longer thrown to the the people from houses along the procession route, goodies still abound. And people are getting smarter and smarter year after year, employing a host of tricks to get the most out of the pasubo - including the use of upside down umbrellas and big boxes.

The government and the private sector are still trying their best to clean up the Pateros River. I look forward to the day when we can have the Pagoda in the river again. Who knows, the ducks may yet return to a clean river once again - and the brass bands can start playing the pandango instead of the empty canned music played from loudspeakers. And yes, maybe we can find the courage again to slay the crocodiles in our midst.

Viva Sta. Marta!

Si Santa Marta at ang Alamat ng Buwaya ng Pateros

2009-01-13T16:20:00.010+08:00

(Note from the Author: English version is available below.)

Nuong ako ay musmos pa, buong pananabik kong hinihintay ang pista ni Santa Marta tuwing ikalawang Lingo ng Pebrero at ika-29 ng Hulyo. Di tulad ng malungkot na prusisyon ng Semana Santa, ang prusisyon tuwing pista ni Santa Marta, na kung tawagin ay Pagoda sa Daan, ay masayang idanaraos sa pamamagitan ng pagsasayaw ng pandango sa saliw ng musika ng banda. Naiiba rin ang pagdiriwang na ito sapagkat mismong ang andang nagtataglay ng imahen ng Santa ay buong giliw na isinasayaw ng mga kalalakihang may pasan dito. Habang pinagmamasdan ko sa kalayuan ang parating na prusisyon, animo'y umiindak si Santa Marta kasabay ng kanyang mga sumasayaw ding mga deboto!

Bukod sa masayang sayawan at ang paghahagis ng mga kakaning kung tawagin ay pasubo, ang tuwina'y pumupukaw sa aking pansin ay ang kakaibang anyo ng Santa Marta ng Pateros. Kung karamihan ng mga imahen ng mga santo ay may mahahabang kasuotan na nagkukubli sa kanilang mga paa, ang kay Santa Marta ng Pateros ay sadyang nagpapakita sa mga ito. At ang lalong nakapagtataka ay kung ano ang nasa kanyang paanan – isang malaki at nakakatakot na buwaya.

Maraming mga alamat at salin-kwento sa Pateros tungkol kay Santa Marta at sa buwaya sa kanyang paanan. Sinikap kong maghanap ng anumang nasusulat na nagtataglay ng salaysay tungkol sa kung papaanong ang imahen ng Santa Marta ng Pateros ay nagkaroon ng buwaya sa kanyang paanan, ngunit walang akong natunton.

Ayon sa isang matandang kwento, nuong unang panahon ay isang maunlad na pamayanan ang bayan ng Pateros. Ang ilog nito ay malawak at malinis, at naging sentro ng kalakalan na naguugnay sa lalawigan ng Morong sa Maynila. Dahil sa mayaman sa mga suso at ibang lamang-tubig, ang ilog ay naging mainam na kanlungan ng mga pato o itik na inaalagaan ng mga nakatira sa pampangin ng ilog. Ang itlog ng mga patong ito, na lubhang mas malinamnam kung ihahambing sa yaong mga nanggagaling sa ibang dako, ay ginagawang balut - na siya namang lalong nagpatanyag sa bayan ng Pateros. Nabuhay ng maunlad at matiwasay ang mga taga Pateros.

Ngunit ang kasaganahan at katahimikan ng Pateros ay ginambala ng isang malaking buwaya na nanalanta sa ilog. Kinakain nito ang mga itik at pato, at nanganib na maubos ang mga ito at mawalan ng kabuhayan ang bayan. Nang sa kabila ng lahat ng paraan ay hindi mahuli at magapi ng taong bayan ang mapanirang buwaya, sila ay taimtim na nanalangin kay Santa Marta. Sila naman ay di nabigo at kapagdaka ang buwaya ay nahuli at pinaslang. Bilang pasasalamat, ipinagdiwang ng buong bayan ang pista ni Santa Marta sa pamamagitan ng pagsasayaw sa mga lansangan (pagoda sa daan) at maging sa kahabaan ng ilog ng Pateros (pagoda sa ilog). Sa ilog man o sa daan ay laging nakasunod ang isang buwaya na gawa sa yero bilang paggunita sa pagliligtas ng Santa sa mga itik ng Pateros. Sa ibabaw o tabi ng malaking buwaya ay may sumasayaw na mag-iitik at may hawak na tabak o bolo, bilang pahiwatig ng pagtatagumpay ng mga taga Pateros laban sa salot sa kanila kabuhayan.

Marahil, ang kwentong ito at katulad ng iba pa ay mananatiling buhay na lamang sa pamamagitan ng mga salaysay na isinasalin sa bawat salin-lahi ng mga taal na taga-Pateros. Nakakalungkot isipin na sa hinaharap ay maari ng tuluyang maglaho ang mga kwentong ito katulad ng pagkamatay ng ilog ng Pateros at ang unti-unting paglaho ng mga kinaugaliang tradisyon katulad ng pagpaparangal kay Santa Marta sa kanyang kapistahan.

Muling napukaw ang aking pansin sa kakaibang imahen ni Santa Marta ng Pateros ng minsang nakapagsimba ako sa parokya ng San Pablo sa Timog, Lungsod Quezon. Aba, mayroon din itong malaking buwaya sa kanyang paanan! Dili kaya't taga-Pateros ang naghandog ng imaheng ito sa parokya ng San Pablo? Nagtanong ako, ngunit walang makapagsabi kung paanong ang imahen ni Santa Marta na akala ko ay sa Pateros lamang matatagpuan ay napadpad sa Lungsod Quezon.

Gayun din ang aking pagkagulat ng minsang ako ay nakapagsimba sa Estados Unidos, napansin ko ang imahen ni Santa Marta. Katulad din ito ng imahen sa Lungsod Quezon ngunit hindi isang buwaya ang nasa kanyang paanan, kundi ay isang nakakatakot na dragon. Maliban dito, ang pagsasalarawan ay katulad ng Santa Marta ng Pateros - may hawak na Krus sa isang kamay at sangang may mga dahon sa kabila. Ito ang nagbunsod sa akin upang saliksikin kung may kinalaman ang mga nakagisnan kong tradisyong sa Pateros sa mga pagdiriwang ng kapistahan ni Santa Marta sa ibang lugar.

Sa aking pananaliksik, nalaman ko na ang pagsasalarawan ng mga taga Pateros kay Santa Marta ay hindi naman pala nalalayo sa kanyang tradisyonal na pagsasalarawan mula pa nuong ika-labintatlong siglo. Ang pagsasalarawan kay Santa Marta ay bunga ng mga alamat at saling-kwento tungkol sa naging buhay niya, at ng mga kapatid na sina Santa Maria Magdalena at San Lazaro, pagkatapos ng muling pagkabuhay at pag akyat sa langit ng ating Panginoong Hesus.

Ayon sa mga alamat ng simbahan, si Santa Marta at ang kanyang mga kapatid ay mula sa mga dugong bughaw ng Hudea, sa Betania at Magdalen. Ayon sa tradisyon, ang Panginoong Hesus ay madalas na bumibisita sa kanilang tahanan at naging mabuting kaibigan ng pamilya lalu ng ng kanyang kapatid na si San Lazaro. Ito ay pinatunayan ng mga salaysay na napapaloob sa Banal na Aklat ukol sa mga magkakapatid at ang mabuting pakitungo sa kanila ni Hesus. Ngunit nang ang Panginoon ay umakyat na sa langit ay wala ng nabangit pa tungkol sa magkakapatid.

Ayon sa mga kwentong pinagsalin-salin sa mga nanampalataya nuong mga unang panahon ng Kristianismo, ang mga labi ni Santa Marta ay nakalagay sa maliit ngunit napakagandang bayan ng Tarascon sa lalawigan ng Provence sa Pransya. Ayon pa rin sa tradisyon, si Santa Marta ay dumating sa lugar na ito nuong ika-49 taon ng unang siglo. Ang pinakamaagang nasusulat na sumusuporta sa paniniwalang ito ay mula kay Arsobispo Raban Maur ng Mayence, na nagsulat ukol sa buhay ni Santa Marta nuong ika-9 na siglo. Nuong taong 1275, si Arsobispo Jacobus de Voragine ng Genoa ay isinulat ang aklat na "Ang Mga Gintong Alamat at Buhay ng mga Banal".

Sa aklat na ito ay itinala ang mga salaysay ukol sa buhay ng mga banal na tagasunod ng Panginoon, na sa mga panahong iyon ay napatiling buhay lamang sa pamamagitan ng pagsasalin-salin ng mga salaysay sa pagitan ng mga nananampalataya. Kasama na nga sa mga isinalaysay ang naging buhay ng tatlong magkakapatid na sina Marta, Maria at Lazaro.

Matatandaang nasusulat sa Banal na Aklat na ang tatlong magkakapatid ay matatalik na kaibigan ng Panginoong Hesus. Nang si Hesus ay dumalaw sa kanilang tahanan, si Santa Marta ang nag-asikaso sa pangangailangan ng mga bisita, lalo na ng Panginoon, samantalang si Santa Maria Magdalena ay nasa paanan ni Hesus at nakikinig sa kanyang mga pangaral. Nang mamatay ang kanilang kapatid na si San Lazaro, ipinatawag ni Santa Marta ang Panginoon at buong pagpipighating sinabi na kung Siya ay dumating lamang ng mas maaga, ay hindi sana pumanaw ang kanyang mahal na kapatid. Ang Panginoon ay di nag-atubili na tawagin ang ngalan ni San Lazaro at utusan siyang tumayo at lumabas mula sa kanyang pinagkalibingan. Ang himalang ito ay patunay sa matalik na pagkakaibigan ni Santa Marta at ng ating Panginoong Hesus!

Ayon sa aklat ni Arsobispo Jacobus de Voragine, dahil na rin sa pagkakaibigang ito ay naging lubos at matibay ang pananampalataya ni Santa Marta sa Panginoon. Nang Siya ay umakyat na sa langit, si Santa Marta kasama ng kanyang mga kapatid at ibang mga nananampalataya ay nangaral sa mga pagano at Hudyo tungkol sa kaligtasang handog ni Hesus. Dahil dito, sila ay dinakip at isinakay sa isang bangka na walang sagwan at walang layag upang sila ay anurin sa karagatan ng walang tiyak na paroroonan hanggang sa mamatay.

Ngunit dahil na rin sa pagtatakda ng Diyos, sila ay napadpad sa Pransya, sa lugar ng Marseilles. Mula doon ay nagtungo sila sa Aquense, kung saan maraming tao ang humanga sa pangangaral ni Santa Marta at itinakwil ang kanilang mga diyos-diyosan upang manampalataya sa ating Panginoon.

Taong 48 ng mapadpad si Santa Marta sa maliit na bayan ng Nerluc na malapit sa ilog ng Rhone, sa pagitan ng mga bayan ng Arles at Avignon. Hindi lubusang makapanirahan ang mga mamamayan ng Nerluc sa lugar dahil sa isang malaki at nakakatakot na halimaw na nagkukubli sa ilog. Ang halimaw na ito, na tinawag na Tarasque, ay pinaniniwalaang isang malaking buwaya, ngunit isinalarawan bilang isang dragon sa mga panulat alinsunod sa nakagawian na ng mga panahong iyon. Ang kinatatakutang dragon ay pumapatay at kumakain ng mga taong naliligaw sa dakong iyon, at naging sanhi ng lubos na pagkatakot ng mga mamamayan sa bayang ito. Ang mga mamayan ng Nerluc ay nakiusap kay Santa Marta na sila ay tulungan na mapuksa ang halimaw.

Buong tapang at puno ng pananampalataya sa kapangyarihan ng Panginoon, tinungo ni Santa Marta ang kinaroroonan ng dragon at doon ay nasumpungan niya ito habang nilalapastangan ang isang kaawa-awang tao. Umawit ng mga papuri sa Panginoon si Santa Marta at ipinakita sa dragon ang tangan niyang Krus, sabay wisik ng Banal na Tubig na galing sa sisidlang tangan niya. Kapagdaka'y naging animo'y maamong tupa ang Tarasque at ito ay mapagkumbabang nanikluhod sa harap ni Santa Marta. Ang halimaw ay iginapos niya gamit ang sinturon ng kanyang damit. Dinala niya ang napaamong dragon sa mga mamamayan ng Nerluc na lubha namang natakot sa halimaw at kagyat na kumilos upang ito ay mapaslang sa pamamagitan ng kanilang mga sibat. Hindi nanlaban ang halimaw at namatay na payapa sa piling ni Santa Marta.

Ipinangaral ni Santa Marta ang Kristianismo at marami ang nanampalataya at nagpabinyag. Naawa ang mga taong-bayan sa sinapit ng Tarasque at sila ay nagsisi sa pagkakapaslang nila dito. Bilang paggunita sa milagrong ito, ang bayan ng Nerluc ay tinawag nilang Tarasconus bilang ala-ala sa napaslang na Tarasque. Mula nuon ay nanatili ng payapa at ligtas ang ilog ng Rhone at ang bayan ng Tarasconus at nanatili duon si Santa Marta hanggang sa kanyang pagpanaw.

Naging tanyag at mapagmilagrong pinuno ng mga mananampalataya si Santa Marta, at maraming mga simbahan at kumbento ang itinatag sa kanyang karangalan. Sa kanyang pagpanaw ay lumawig ang pananampalataya sa Panginoon at tuluyang kumalat ang Kristianismo sa Pransya at sa buong Europa. Maraming tanyag na mga tao, kabilang ang mga hari at obispo, ang naglakbay ng malayo upang madalaw ang kanyang libingan. Ang kanyang ulo ay inilagak sa isang rebultong nililok na kahawig niya at gawa sa 25 kilong ginto! Bilang pagdakila sa kanilang tagapagligtas ay ipinagdiwang ng mga mamamayan ang pagpapaamo at pagkagapi ni Santa Marta sa dragon.

Bilang pag-gunita sa kasaysayang ito, isinasalarawan si Santa Marta sa kanyang mga imahen na nakatayo sa ibabaw o malapit sa isang dragon. Sa isang kamay ay hawak niya ang dahong aspergillum na gamit sa pagbabasbas ng Banal na Tubig, at sa kabilang kamay naman ay ang Krus na ipinakita niya sa Tarasque upang ito ay mapaamo. Ang mga sinaunang pagsasalarawan ni Santa Marta ay nagpapakita rin ng sinturon sa kanyang baywang o sa leeg ng dragon, na ginamit niya upang igapos ang halimaw, at ang sisidlan ng Banal na Tubig.

Karamihan sa mga makabagong imahen ni Santa Marta ay di na makikita ang sisidlan ng Banal na Tubig at ang sinturon ay nag-ibang anyo, ngunit ang dahon at Krus ay nanatili sa paglipas ng maraming taon. Sa imahen ng Santa Marta ng Pateros, kalimitan ay makikitang ang sinturon ay nakasukbit mula sa balikat o dibdib pababa sa baywang (tignan ang unang larawan sa itaas).

Mula pa noong unang panahon hanggang sa kasalukuyan, nananatiling laganap at masidhi ang pagkilala kay Santa Marta sa mga lugar na nabanggit sa salayasay na ito. Tulad ng mga sinaunang panahon, patuloy pa ring ipinagdiriwang ang kapistahan ni Santa Marta sa bayan ng Tarasconus sa pamamagitan ng pagpaparada sa lansangan ng imahe ng Santa at ng dambuhalang dragon. Ang mga larawan sa ibaba ay hango sa mga lumang postcards mula sa Pransya na naglalarawan ng kahintulad na prusisyon sa Pateros. May kaugnayan kaya ang ating pagdiriwang sa tradisyong ng bayan ni Santa Marta?
Ang masayang paggunita sa pagkakapaslang sa halimaw ng Tarasconus, na ngayon ay kilala na bilang bayan ng Tarascon sa lalawigan ng Provence sa Pransya, ay tanyag sa buong Europa. Tuwing huling araw ng Lingo ng Hunyo, ang mga mamamayan ng Tarascon ay nagsusuot ng makukulay na tradisyonal na kasuotan at ipinaparada ang isang dambuhalang manyika ng halimaw ng Ilog Rhone na kung tawagin nila ay "Tarasque". Ang Tarasque ay animo'y isinasayaw ng mga kalalakihan, na tinaguriang mga "Chevaliers" o "Tarascaires", dahil hinihila nila ito ng pakaliwa't pakanan sa saliw ng musiko ng isang banda habang sumasayaw ang mga taong kasama sa prusisyon.

Sa lungsod naman ng Venice sa bansang Italya ay mayroon din kahintulad na pagdiriwang ni Santa Marta sa Canale della Giudecca. Ang simbahan ng Santa Marta ay nasa pangpang ng ilog, at ang kanyang kapistahan ay ipinagdiriwang sa pamamagitan ng masasayang tugtugan, awitan at sayawan sa bisperas ng kanyang kapistahan. Sa bayan ng Pontevedra, lalawigan ng Galicia sa Espana, ay ipinagdiriwang ang kapistahan ni Santa Marta sa pamamagitan ng prusisyon sa dagat.

Sa bansang Espana pa rin, may naiiba namang pagdiriwang ng kapistahan ni Santa Marta. Sa tabing-dagat na bayan ng Villajoyosa sa Valencia ay may masaya, magarbo at makulay na pagsasadula ng digmaan sa pagitan ng mga Kristiyano at mga Moro kung saan ang pagkapanalo ng mga Kristiyano ay dahil umano sa pangangalaga ni Santa Marta. Ayon sa kasaysayan ng bayan, nanalangin ang mga mamamayan kay Santa Marta nuong 1538 ng sila ay lusubin ng mga Moro. Nagkaroon ng malaking pagbaha at naanod ang mga Moro pabalik sa dagat! Mula noon ay ipinagdiriwang ng mga taga-Villajoyosa ang milagrong ito ni Santa Marta.

Kung ating susuriin, ang mga alamat at saling-kwento sa Pateros ukol kay Santa Marta ay may pagkakahawig nga sa mga sinaunang salaysay at tradisyon. Ang pagdiriwang ng kanyang kapistahan ay maihahantulad sa mga pagdiriwang sa Europa. Sa halip na Ilog ng Rhone ay ang Ilog ng Pateros ang pook ng pagtutuos ng halimaw at ng Santa, at sa halip na isang nakakatakot na dragon na kumakain ng mga tao, ang ilog ng Pateros ay mayroong malaking buwaya na kumakain ng mga pato at itik na inaalagaan sa pangpang nito. Nang ang dragon ay pinaslang ng mga taong-bayan ng Tarasconus, gumamit sila ng mga sibat. Ang buwaya ng Pateros, ayon sa mga alamat, ay pinaslang sa pamamagitan ng tabak.

Maaaring ang pagkakahawig ng mga pangyayaring ito ang dahilan kung bakit malapit sa puso ng mga taga-Pateros si Santa Marta, at kung bakit sa paglipas ng panahon ay itinugma nila sa kanilang kasaysayan ang pagsasalarawan kay Santa Marta. Maliban sa dragon, na sa imahen ng Santa Marta ng Pateros ay isang buwaya (na siya namang tamang pagsasalarawan kung pagbabatayan ang pagsusuri ng mga mananaliksik), naroroon pa rin ang mga simbulo na nagpapaalala sa kadakilaan niya - ang Krus na ginamit niya upang paniwalain sa Panginoon ang mga pagano sa Pransya at upang paamuin ang dambuhalang halimaw ng Ilog ng Rhone, ang dahon ng aspergillum na ginamit na pangbasbas ng Banal na Tubig sa halimaw, at ang sinturon na ginamit na pang-gapos sa halimaw upang ito ay tuluyan ng magapi sa pamamagitan ng sibat ng mga taong-bayan.

Tunay ngang makulay at hitik sa kasaysayan ang pista ni Santa Marta, hindi lamang pala sa Pateros, kundi saan mang sulok ng daigdig kung saan siya ay kinikilala bilang tagapangalaga. Ang mga taga-Pateros ay buong pusong niyakap ang mga kasaysayan, alamat at tradisyong may kaugnayan kay Santa Marta at isinaliw sa kanilang sariling kasaysayan at pagkatao. Nawa'y mapanatili nating buhay at masigla ang mayaman nating kultura at tradisyon, at sa pangangalaga ng ating mahal na Pintakasing si Santa Marta, ay maging maayos, mapayapa at maunlad ang bayan ng Pateros.

~~~ oOo ~~~~~~ oOo ~~~

In my younger days, I always look forward with great anticipation and excitement to the twin celebrations of the feast of St. Martha every second Sunday of February, and again on the twenty-ninth of July each year. Unlike the somber processions during Holy Week, the procession in honor of St. Martha in Pateros was joyously and exuberantly celebrated both in the streets and in the river with people dancing a native folk dance called the "Pandanggo" accompanied by lively music from brass bands.

What makes this celebration more unique is that the dimunitive image of the saint is carried on a flower-bedecked platform that was borne on the shoulders of the town's menfolk while they swayed to the rythm of the pandanggo beat of 1-2-3-step-1-2-3-4-step! Looking at the procession from afar, the saint's image appears to be graciously dancing with her devotees as they make their way through the narrow streets and alleys of the town.

Aside from the lively street dancing and the traditional throwing of foods and other goodies called the "pasubo" (offering) to the people joining the procession, what caught my attention and curiosity was the iconography of the St. Martha in Pateros. While most, if not all, saints of the Catholic realm are traditionally garbed in long robes that flow past their feet and pedestal, the robe of the town's beloved patron saint has a shorter cut. Even more interesting is what is revealed by the shorter robe - a big and nasty-looking crocodile at her feet!

This interesting variation in the iconography of St. Martha in Pateros has spawned many stories and legends. I attempted to look for early writings about these stories and legends surrounding the town's devotion and tradition relating to the saint. Unfortunately, I found none so far. What currently exist are quite recent writings by writers in Pateros who have the good intentions and foresight to write down these oral traditions before they completely disappear.

According to one oral tradition, Pateros was a previously known as "Aguho", a prosperous settlement by the bank of a tributary of the Pasig River. The Pateros River, as it was called then and now, was wide and clean, and was a center of commerce between the capital city of Manila to the west, and the settlements of Morong (now Rizal province) to the east. The river was a natural and rich source of snails and other water creatures that were the main source of food for the ducks raised by people living on the banks of the river. Thus, duck-raising became an important industry of the town. The eggs laid by these ducks were reputed to be far more better-tasting than those found anywhere else and spawned the most famous product of the town - the balut (boiled fertilized duck egg). The town and its people enjoyed a peaceful and abundant life.

The peace and prosperity of the town was shattered when a huge crocodile came to stay in the river and terrorized the ducks and the people. The crocodile had a voracious appetite and devoured the ducks to the point of endangering the livelihood of the town. The townspeople tried mightily hard to get rid of the pesky crocodile but failed each time. Desperate, they prayed earnestly to St. Martha for deliverance from the monster of the river. Their prayers were heard, and the crocodile was slain by a local hero not long after. Some variations of the story says the crocodile simply disappeared and was never seen again.

In gratitude for the miracle, the entire town celebrated the feast of the saint by dancing on the streets and even along the meandering Pateros River. They created a huge replica of the slain crocodile and had this follow the image of Saint Martha whether the procession was on the streets or on the river. So huge was this mock crocodile that people can actually stand on its back while dancing the pandanggo. The highlight of the parade is a man, presumably a balut-maker (magbabalut) who dances either on top or ahead of the mock crocodile while brandishing a local sword called an "itak" or "bolo". It was symbolic of the triumph of the people of Pateros against what seemed to be an insurmountable adversity.

This story may well be lost among the younger residents of the town like its other traditions, and can only survive when passed on through generations. Unfortunate as it may look, the rich traditions of the town's devotion to its patron saint may soon be lost and forgotten - going the way of the Pateros River which has died due to abuse and neglect of the very same people it had served and nurtured so well.

After many years, I again became interested in the story of St. Martha when I happened to attend mass at the St. Paul Church in Quezon City - in the Timog area to be precise. There I saw an image of the saint, and I was quite surprised to see that it also had a huge crocodile at its feet. Curious, I asked around about the image, but no one could provide me information on its provenance. Could it be that it was donated by someone who used to live in Pateros? No one could tell me how such an image that is so peculiar to the town of Pateros had found its way to this church in Quezon City.

A bigger surprise awaits me across the seas. When I had the chance to travel to the United States, I went to hear Mass in a church that also had an image of St. Martha. It was similar to the image I saw in Quezon City but instead of a crocodile upon her feet, the saint was standing on top of a fiery dragon. Other than this, the image was pretty much the same as those in Pateros - with one hand holding a branch with leaves and the other holding up a cross. These
variations in the iconography of St. Martha inspired me to find out if there are other places in the world where similar stories and traditions about the saint can be found.

Thanks to the Internet, I found out that the iconography of the St. Martha image of Pateros did not stray too far from the traditional representation of the saint since the medieval ages, around the 13th century, when devotion to her was at its peak. Her iconography was a direct offshoot of the legends and stories about her life and those of her siblings - Lazarus and Mary. As the Bible only mentions three events of their lives prior to Jesus ascending into heaven, most of the stories about their life after the resurrection of the Lord was culled from apocryphal writings and oral traditions.

According to the traditions of the church, St. Martha and her siblings were descended from a noble family from Judea, in Bethany and Magdalena (although the part about Mary being a Magdalene is now in question). Based on biblical accounts, it was presumed that Jesus was a frequent visitor to their household, and would have been very good friends with Lazarus, if not with all three siblings. However, after the accounts of the resurrection and ascension into heaven of the Lord, the Bible is silent on what came to be of the siblings.

The early church did not have written records and relied on oral accounts of what happened to the disciples of Jesus after he ascended to heaven. Tarascon in the province of Provence in France holds on to the tradition that the mortal remains of the saint is in the Collegiate Church of St. Martha in this town. According to local history, St. Martha arrived on this tiny settlement by the Rhone River on 49AD.

The earliest writings supporting this tradition were from the 9th century by Archbishop Raban Maur of Mayence, who wrote that he had knowledge of the life of the saint and those of Mary and Lazarus. In 1275, the life story of St. Martha was included in the book "The Golden Legends - Lives of the Saints" written by Archbishop Jacobus de Voragine of Genoa. Up until that time, all accounts of their lives and missionary exploits remained mainly as oral traditions passed on from one generation to the next.

One should remember that the friendship with Jesus that the siblings enjoyed was evident when He came to their house for a feast. In that gathering, Martha was the gracious host who toiled in the kitchen and who made sure everything is in order, while Mary sat by Jesus' feet and listened to His teachings. When their brother Lazarus died, she sent for the Lord and sorrowfully complained that had He came earlier, her brother would not have died. Post-haste, the Lord called on to Lazarus from the grave, and he came out of it alive. Such is their friendship that she is totally at ease complaining to the Lord!

On the other hand, according to the Golden Legends, when the Lord ascended to heaven the disciples dispersed to evangelize the people. Because of this they were persecuted by non-believers. The 3 holy siblings, together with some other followers of the Lord, were captured and put in a rudderless boat that was set afloat into the stormy sea. But with God's grace, the boat landed in Marseilles in what is now France. From there they proceeded to Aquense, where many people were amazed by the eloquence of St. Martha in preaching Christianity. Many turned their back on their pagan gods and embraced Christianity and became believers of the Lord Jesus Christ.

It was in the year 49AD that St. Martha came to pass by the small settlement of Nerluc near the river Rhone, between the towns of Arles and Avignon. The river was rich in resources but the townspeople could not get near it because a huge dragon came to live in there. The dragon, which they call the Tarasque, was believed to be actually a huge crocodile, but was represented as a dragon in legends and myths as was the custom in the medieval ages. The much-feared Tarasque killed and devoured people who strayed into the river or the woods around it. Desperate, the people of Nerluc implored the saint to deliver them from this pestilence.

With courage and faith in the Lord, St. Martha went into the woods and unto the river Rhone, and there she beheld the Tarasque about to devour a hapless man. She started singing hymns and prayers to the Lord, and brandished the cross she was carrying in front of the dragon. Thereafter, the dragon became meek as a lamb and knelt before St. Martha. She took the belt from her waist and put it around the dragon's neck as she led it to the town. Upon seeing the dragon, the people became filled with fear and slew the dragon with their spears and arrows. The Tarasque did not put up a fight and died peacefully in St. Martha's company. The saint preached about the Lord and the people were converted instantly. They pitied the dragon, and in remembrance they renamed their town Tarasconus. Since then, the town prospered in peace and St. Martha settled there until her death.

St. Martha became a great leader among the believers, and the faith flourished due to her tireless work. Churches, convents and monasteries sprung in the area, and upon her death, Christianity spread all over France and the whole of Europe. Many famous people travelled far and wide to visit her relics in the church built in her honor. One of the kings of France had a bust made of 25 kilos of gold made to encase her head! In memory of St. Martha's taming of the Tarasque, the people of Tarascanus instituted a feast to commemorate this great religious and historical event.

This is the one event that forever shaped the iconography of St. Martha. She is represented as either standing on top or beside a dragon, with one hand holding an aspergillum branch and a cross on the other hand. The aspergillum branch was used in olden times to sprinkle holy water, while the cross was what she used to tame the dragon. Other representations of St. Martha also include the belt that she used to lead the dragon into the town and the vessel for the holy water.

Most fairly recent iconography of the saint no longer includes the belt and the vessel for the Holy Water. In some images, like those used in Pateros (see image at the top of this article), the belt had evolved into a decorative sash that is slung across the chest from the waist up to the shoulder area. But no matter how her iconography had evolved, the basic elements of the cross and the aspergillum branch remains.

From the earliest days until now, devotion to St. Martha among the people of Provence, especially in the Arles and Tarascon region, have remained strong and vibrant. As in ancient times, the feast of St. Martha in the town of Tarasconus (now known as Tarascon) is celebrated by parading a mock Tarasque around the streets of the town. These early postcards show the people of Tarascon parading the image of the saint around town with the mock Tarasque in tow. The similarities in the celebrations of Pateros and Tarascon raises the possibility that there could be a link between these two towns separated by seas and
continents.

The joyous commemoration of the defeat of the dragon of Tarasconus in the city of Tarascon in Provence, France is quite a renowned festival in Europe. Celebrated on the last weekend of June, the residents dress up in medieval costumes and accompany a huge mock up of the Tarasque in a parade around the city. Selected menfolk, designated as "Chevaliers" or "Tarascaires", accompany the dragon as it is swayed from right to left in rhythmic movement along the streets, followed by dancing costumed residents.

Some other festivals in Europe honoring St. Martha appear to be all connected with bodies of water. In Venice, the people of Canale della Giudecca celebrates with singing and dancing on the eve of her feast day with festivals held at the bank of the river. In the city of Pontevedra in Galicia, Spain, they celebrate the feast of St. Martha with a fluvial procession.

Still in Spain, they have a unique and colorful festival in the coastal town of Villajoyosa in Valencia. During the festival, the entire city is transformed into one huge stage and all the residents become actors in a play that commemorates the victory of Christians against the invading Moors in 1538. According to local history, when the Moors invaded the city, the people implored the intercession of St. Martha. Thereafter, there was a great flood that swept away the invaders back into the sea. Since then, the people of Villajoyosa celebrated this miracle that they attribute to St. Martha with a colorful re-enactment of the battle between Christians and Moors.

Based on these accounts, and I'm sure there are many more similar celebrations around the Christian world that honor this great saint, it can be said that the local lore and celebrations in honor of St. Martha in Pateros is very similar to these ancient legends and traditions, albeit already imbued with local color. Instead of the Rhone River in the little town of Tarascon, we have the Pateros River in our little town. Instead of a mighty dragon devouring people, our local lore has a huge crocodile terrorizing the town and eating its prized ducks. When the dragon was slain by the people of Tarascon, they used spears and arrows. In Pateros, the crocodile was slain using the native sword called "tabak" or "bolo". No matter the context by which the story was told, it follows the same basic story line.

It is maybe because of these similarities that have endeared St. Martha to the people of Pateros, and why as this devotion grew over the years they claimed her as their own and her iconography evolved to incorporate the components of the local legends. Aside from the dragon, which in the image of St. Martha in Pateros is depicted as a huge crocodile (which historians believe is actually the more correct representation as dragons remain to be regarded as only mythological), the local image retains all the traditional representations - the cross that was used to tame the dragon and to convert the people to Christianity, the aspergillum branch used to sprinkle holy water in subduing the dragon, and the belt that was used to bind it when it was led into the town to be eventually slain by the townspeople.

The festivals honoring this great and ancient saint are truly colorful, unique and remarkable, not only in our little town of Pateros, but in many other parts of the world where she is venerated. The people of Pateros whole-heartedly embraced the stories, legends and traditions associated with her and fused them with their own traditions and legends - which to this day we try to hold on to and nurture for future generations. May we always strive to keep the rich culture and traditions that bind us a people alive in our town and everywhere else where Pateros folks have come to settle, and through the protection of our Beloved Patron Saint Martha of Bethany, may our town be always prosperous and peaceful at it should be.

~~~ oOo ~~~

The Nanay Chronicles #2 - Comfort Food

2008-10-17T12:40:00.002+08:00

Ours was a very large family. With nine kids to feed and host of workers in her small garments business, Nanay was an expert in whipping up meals good for an entire battalion. I could not remember having small cookware in the old house - everything was big. We have a pretty big kitchen that opens up to the backyard where food was cooked during big celebrations.

Of course, I will never forget the food - glorious comfort food that Nanay would prepare for the clan.

Sinigang na Ayungin - this small fish is caught in Laguna Lake and is best cooked in sour broth made from either ripe guavas or Kamias. Garnished with sili leaves, it is perfectly complemented by patis.
Ginataang Biya - Nanay chose biya that have eggs and would use the "dilaw" variety of ginger for that unique tangy taste.
Menudong Bato-bato ng Manok - I don't see this in the market now, but Nanay used to buy chicken gall bladders from the Pasig Market and cooked them menudo style - with tomato sauce, soy sauce, and potatoes.
Ukbo - a true-blue Pateros delicacy, Ukbo is actually aborted duck embryo that did not fully developed into balut. Pretty much like a day-old chick, it is cooked either as adobo or kaldereta. Nanay would use 7-Up and pickles to give it a different twist. I love the egg yolks especially.
Kare-kareng Bituka ng Baka - When I was younger, I hated it when Nanay cooks this version of the kare-kare. The sebo would fill my mouth even before I am halfway through my meal, and I had to rinse my mouth with hot water after the meal. But my Nanay's kare-kare is tops!
Menudo - Nanay cooks the dry version of the menudo, tasty and especially great with hot pan de sal. On special occasions, she would throw in some raisins for that sweet-tangy taste.
Kinilaw na Puso ng Saging - Nanay's version is not raw, although it was still made with vinegar. She used pork sauteed with shrimp and then garnished with sotanghon.
Pinakbet na Isda - Nanay would use either fried labahita or grilled bangus for her version of this Ilocano favorite. I would pick out the ampalaya and kalabasa from the many vegetables. Then as now, I still hate the okra!
Sinuwam na Baboy - Better known as batchoy to many people, Nanay always partnered this meal with fried galungong. She would boil fresh galungong in vinegar, crushed garlic and peppercorn before frying them to a crisp. For the sinuwam, she used pork tenderloin, liver, kidney and spleen. The exotic flavor was courtesy of fresh pig blood, lots of ginger and kimchay. The sinuwam broth was made even better when taken with a sprinkling of patis with calamansi and siling panigang.
Almondigas - I loved helping Nanay cook this meal, as I get to do the meatballs and dunk them into the pan. The meatballs are made up of ground pork, minced onion, pepper and eggs. Then she would do a sautee of garlic, onions and ginger and uses the second washing of rice for the broth. Of course, Nanay's broth will not be complete without patis. After the meatballs have been cooked, she finishes it off with misua and kasuba.
Paksiw na Pata - one of my all-time favorites! Pork knuckles boiled in water, vinegar, soy sauce and banana flowers until succulently tender.
Paksiw na Bituka - Only Nanay can prepare this dish perfectly. She knows how to pick the right intestines and clean them. I especially like the part where that is also used for chicharon bulaklak. She cooks this with dried oregano and whole peppercorns. As usual, great with patis - and I eat and eat and eat until my lips turn white because of the vinegar!
Tinolang Manok - I used to tag along with Nanay when we buy the live chicken and would watch as she slits the throat and let the blood pour in a saucer with uncooked rice. She would only use manibalang na papaya and lots of ginger, giving the broth a wonderfully sweet and tangy flavor. Great with patis and calamansi as well.
Boiled Eggs in Catsup - The first time I cooked this for friends, they were incredulous. Nanay would boil the eggs, cut them in halves and make a sauce by sauteing garlic, onion and catsup with a bit of water.
Sinuwam na Itlog - another egg dish that I only get to eat in our house. Nanay would saute garlic, onions and ginger strips, then add water. When the water starts boiling, she would break the eggs and drop them one by one into the boiling broth. She would then add patis and misua to the poached eggs.
Fried Pork Chop - I tried and tried but could not even approximate how Nanay prepares one of my favorite baons. She would boil the meet in vinegar, garlic and peppercorns until dry and then let it fry in its own oil.

These are just a few of the food that I remember Nanay cooking for us. In future posts, I will devote a whole series for these culinary delights.

The Nanay Chronicles #1 - Maria Went to the Market

2008-10-10T08:09:00.004+08:00

One of my earliest memories of my childhood were my frequent trips to the market with Nanay. Although already busy with her small home business, she was hands-on when it comes to going to the market - be it in Pasig for our food, or in Divisoria to buy materials for her garments business or to deliver finished products. I remember only very few instances when she would tag me along to Divisoria, but I have many vivid memories of market trips to the public markets of Pasig.

Divisoria was a long trip back then, when the only way to go there in comfort was the TPT bus. Comfort then means sitting on wooden benches, with no aircon, and inhaling all the smoke and dust along the way. But who's complaining? If the conductor happens to be Mang Itoy, or anyone who knows Nanay, we get a free ride. It was always a long ride - TPT was not known as Takbong Pagong Transit for nothing.

The market in Divisoria, then and now, was a maze of stalls and stores. Nanay would navigate through the maze in a breeze - she knows its ins and outs like the back oh her hand. She walks fast, makes sure she gets the seller's attention and bargains hard. She was a real pro! As for the little pesky kid she had in tow, when I could not keep up the pace anymore, she would leave me with an Indian couple (or at least that's how they looked to me) who owns a stall, and then come back for me when she's done. So while other children would shudder in fear when old folks tell them to behave or otherwise be given to Indians (called Bombays in olden days) carrying sacks where they put misbehaving children, I was happily playing with them in Divisoria.

Other than a few occasions, I do not have much memories of Divisoria - much unlike the many happy, although sometimes embarrassing, memories of Nanay in the Pasig Public Market. I used to dread Saturdays, when Nanay would drag me out of bed early in morning to go to the Pasig public market. Pateros folks, for some strange reason, prefer to take the jeepney ride all the way to Pasig instead of going to the small market by the river. Well, maybe that's the reason - there are more choices in Pasig compared to the almost empty stalls in the Pateros market.

Nanay would always ask me to sit on her lap on the jeepney, even when there was enough space for me to sit on, so that we only have to pay for one seat. Nanay calls everyone in the Pasig Market "Suki", be it the meat, fish, vegetable or dry goods vendor. Much later when I was older and understood better, I learned that calling them "Suki" gave her the license to ask for embarrassinly huge discounts. I always cringed when she would ask the vendors to sell to her at more than half the price. But as a testament to her bargaining prowess, she would almost always get her way anyway. She even perfected the art of pretending to walk away from a deal if she did not get her discount, with the vendor almost always calling her back and giving in to her price.

In fact I learned my first business lesson from her right in the market. When I would tell her that "kawawa naman yung tindera, baka nalulugi na", she would assure me that vendors will not sell anything without at least a decent profit, if not from her, then from someone else. That made an impression on me. and had always been in my mind when dealing with contractors and suppliers, or with clients if I happen to be the one selling. Business is always give and take - you give to some, you take from the others but always leave something for yourself.

Me and Nanay would hie off to the market at least once a week for many more years until I went to Baguio for college. She would always have the week's menu in mind, and would methodically and systematically comb through the huge market - starting with the meat section, then chicken, fish and vegetables. When she and Tatay finally decided to settle in the US, I would go to the same market on my own. As I pass from one stall to the next, the vendors would ask me where Nanay was, and how she was doing. It was then that I realized that she really did cultivate real relationships with the people in the market. She knew each one of them personally, and her relationship with them went beyond the bargains.

Looking back now, little did I know that those market trips to Divisoria and the Pasig would have a lasting and significant effect on how I now deal with my business associates and clients. Nanay was my first and most influential business mentor, and whatever business lessons I put into good use all started in those trips to the market.

The Nanay Chronicles

2008-10-08T22:35:00.004+08:00

On 08 November 2008, our family will commemorate the 10th year of the passing of our dearly missed mother, Maria Enriquez Concepcion. Nanay, as she was fondly called by everyone, including her grandchildren and friends of her children, was a woman of fortitude, courage and grit. Her simple life left extra-ordinary marks on people whose lives she had touched.

In honor of this extra-ordinary human being, I am running a series of personal recollection and reflection on my beloved Nanay. I may never be able to do justice to her life's achievements, but hopefully through this series of reflections, I can perpetuate her memory and the lessons of her life for generations of my family.

To my dearest Nanay, wherever you are now, allow me to indulge you on this humble tribute. For my Tatay and the rest of the family, thank you for always keeping Nanay's memory alive in our hearts and our lives. Her presence in our lives keeps this family together, even as we faced the many challenges in life.

Dying Young

2008-10-01T11:47:00.003+08:00

This will be a quick post. I have actually started a couple of other posts the past months, but all have remained as drafts. Some were on the early stages, a few need only a paragraph or two to wrap up. Much as I wanted to, I could not bring myself to put the final touches and publish them. Perhaps my muse had left me?

I sit in front of my computer today, a Muslim holiday marking the end of Ramadan. I am thinking, maybe I should also stop my abstinence from writing on my blog and start anew. Maybe I should go back to the drafts of my unpublished entries and finish them once and for all. Or maybe I should write about something new on my mind?

In a month's time, my family from the US will be descending on our little town for my mother's 10th death anniversary. We will also celebrate my father's 83rd birthday, and my brother's 50th. Throw in the November 1/2 observance of All Souls and All Saints, and it will indeed be a celebration of life and death - the inevitable cycle for all of us.

So why the melodramatic title of this post?

A little over a week ago, I got a text message from a good friend from San Francisco, in sunny California. He was using his Philippine number, which made me suspect that he was actually in the Philippines. Well, turned out he really was. He came home, rather abruptly, to attend to a very sick sister. He did not see her alive anymore. She died one day before his scheduled flight, and she was only 44 years old.

If you asked me twenty years ago, I would say that would be a good age to pass on - in fact a bit too late. In my younger years, I would fancy dying before the age of forty. I thought there's just too many problems in the world, and by the time I reached that age I would have achieved what I needed to accomplish, plus some more - good or bad. There is no need to plod on and see my skin all wrinkled. That would not have looked good on me as I lay on an open casket. All those movies about dying young and leaving everyone bereaved and devastated had the hopeless romantic in me all fired up. I imagined myself in the peak of my life, shining brightly in a firmament full of stars dimmed by my brilliance - and then suddenly disappearing in a burst of luminous shower in the sky. Talk about drama!

But here I am, all of 43 years old and looking forward to growing old gracefully - never mind the wrinkles and aching joints. Well, it helped that the Church is now more open to cremation, and I do not have to worry about people talking about my wrinkles as they view my remains. They would be raving about my Photoshopped portrait instead! I have seen the light.

Over recent years, I have grown fond of reading through the obituaries and found special interest on people who died young. When I am in the memorial park, or when I had to attend wakes in chapels or funeral parlors, I would look around and check for people who died young. I would imagine how they died, and what could have been of the people they left behind. Did they die of accidents? Or did they die of lingering illnesses? Could there have been foul play? Or maybe they took their own lives?

How did those they left behind cope with their early departure? What if they have a young family, with kids deprived of a parent? As the youngest in the brood, if fate would take its natural course, I will have the unpleasant task of burying my parents and my siblings. I already went through burying my mother 10 years ago, and it was such a painful experience that the melancholy still lingers up to this time. I dread the day of the inevitable.

Maybe that was partly the reason for my fascination for dying young. Subconsciously, I may have wanted to escape that dreadful task. I want people to cry for me, to pine for my presence, to wax eloquent about my worthy life in a heartfelt eulogy during my memorial service. My fate is otherwise. If I would be blessed with a long life, I would be standing by the coffins of all those dear to me, crying for them, pining for them and feeling all alone. Dying young would have been more dramatic - romantic even.

But the years weave its magic on weary souls like mine. Warts and all, life has been good to me. As we add numbers and digits to our ages, we acquire a different appreciation for our lives. As we mature, we start looking at mistakes as lessons, challenges as opportunities and failures as just another reason to try harder next time. Love gained and lost through the many colorful episodes of our lives give a different dimension to the endless cycle of sleeping and waking up. The days when we look forward to waking up to a new day, and the forlorn days when we hope the morning never comes - all these makes life such a wonderful and joyful journey into the unknown. And it can all end in a snap.

I always say yes whenever people ask me if I am ready to go. But the truth is, I am not. Not that I am not ready, but its just that I do not want to go. Not yet anyway. In fact, I am enjoying life so much I want to live forever if I can. Maybe God designed it that way, that our lives can be taken from us at anytime - even at the least expected time, so we can learn to appreciate each day and each moment. So we can take time to look at the scenery as we travel through life, talk to people, love them - even hate them if we must. Each day, each experience, each person bring lessons that enrich our own lives, and each new day is more exciting than the previous day - if only for the fact that you are still alive. Who would want to die young?

Like power, life is addictive the longer we have it.

Magaling! Magaling! Magaling!

2008-06-19T21:45:00.005+08:00

For this post, allow me to borrow that catchy phrase from the Neozep commercial: Magaling! Magaling! Magaling!

I held off from commenting on the clearing operations recently done on the Pateros Bridge. When I first saw people clearing the bridge of illegal vendors, I told myself "there goes another ningas-kugon project..."

But wonders of wonders, it's been weeks since that day and I still do not see any vendors on the bridge - at least on the Pateros side. Just like magic - they all disappeared on the wave of a magic wand. Now, I don't know who waved the magic wand. It could be the young wizard of Pateros or the wise old man of Makati, but no matter who made this possible - they deserve our applause!

Here's hoping the next time the magic wand is waved, it will make all those zig-zagging tricycle drivers behave for a change. The miracle of the Pateros bridged proved it can be done, and the effect is immediately felt. Imagine our roads cleared of illegal vendors, with pedestrians walking safely on the sidewalks and vehicles keeping to their lanes and loading and unloading passengers at designated places only. Imagine how it is if only town and barangay officials will enforce dicipline!

Ab-ra-ka-da-bra!!!

Bite Me!

2008-05-29T20:33:00.004+08:00

Some pleasant surprises.

Today, I had my last shot of anti-rabies vaccine. I had to leave a conference call at a little past three in the afternoon to catch my 4:30PM appointment at the RITM in Alabang. There was traffic near Magallanes, as usual, and it was almost four when I got into the SLEX. Surprise, surprise... there was no traffic all the way to Alabang and I made it to my appointment with the last needle.

So off to Window Number 2 again, to see Ms. Grouchy Nurse. She was all smiles today, and even managed a jolly "Good afternoon!". I smiled back, returned the greeting and handed her my Orange Card. She wrote down the usual stuff on the prescription paper.

"You will pay only the consultation fee of fifty pesos. The vaccine is free.", and with the sweetest smile she asked me to proceed to the cashier, and then to the pharmacy.

After paying and submitting the prescription, I returned to the now transformed Ms. Sweet Nurse of Window Number 2. She handed me my number card. I was Patient Number 75. And so the final wait officially commenced.

In less than a few minutes, the voice on the loudspeaker blurted out, "Number 75!" I, Dennis E. Concepcion, nearing 43 years old, had become but a number in this facility. I surrendered my number card and entered the injection room for the last time. Another surprise await me. There were quite a few more doctors around, with nameplates saying "Participant" dangling from their necks.

"Wow, am I now Specimen Number 75?" I must have looked at them with curious stares, so Ms. Alpha Nurse offered an explanation.

"You are so lucky. There is a seminar today and your vaccines are free. Doc here is going to set up a bite center in their place." That explains the discounted fees. And I thought Ms. Grouchy Nurse turned Ms. Sweet Nurse was just glad to send me off after my last shot, never to be seen again in that facility.

I glanced at the middle-aged man with old-fashioned eyeglasses, checkered shirt and perma-pressed pants. I wanted to ask Ms. Alpha Nurse if she was sure Dr. Checkered Shirt was a real doctor and not a veterinarian. I crossed my fingers and prayed he learned enough in the seminar not to prick me in the wrong places.

First needle on the left arm, the second on the right. It was all over in a couple of minutes. Ms. Alpha Nurse told me not to lose my Orange Card, as if it was a badge of honor - or a Purple Heart for being wounded in combat.

"Your vaccination is good for three years. You can have yourself bitten by dogs as much as you want!". With that, she sent me off, reminding me to hang around for a while to make sure there will be no allergic reaction.

Three years of immunity. I felt like a Survivor castaway earning the immunity talisman for winning the challenges. Over a month of regular shots, no alcohol, and driving all the way to Alabang to catch my late afternoon appointments - all because of a tinnie-winnie dog bite gone awful. But all that is behind me now, and I can look forward to three years of worry-free dealings with dogs. I wonder if they have similar vaccines for annoying people?

So bite me. I'm 100% rabies-free.

Of Dog Bites And A Boy Named Kelly - Chapter 2

2008-05-07T10:41:00.010+08:00

Our little story continues.

Kelly is a six-year old boy I met at the Research Institute for Tropical Medicine (RITM) in Alabang, where I went to for my anti-rabies and anti-tetanus injections. I came in a little past ten on a Monday morning, and the place was simply chaotic. The amiable guard at the front entrance explained that people may not be aware that the facility is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for new patients, thus people who got bitten by animals during the weekend tend to wait until Monday to go there.

It was already past the 11AM cut-off time when I got through the initial registration process. There were three of us - me, Kelly with his grandmother and a little girl with her mommy, daddy, auntie and grandmother. We were told to take our lunch and get back before 2PM. Since RITM sits on an isolated hill, we have no other choice but to wait it out in the facility's spacious compound. Not a bad option after all, as it overlooks the Ayala-Alabang Golf Course and the sprawling Filinvest City.

That was when I met Kelly and his Lola. We filled out and submitted our patient's registration at just about the same time. When we were told that it was already cut-off time, I and his Lola tried to convince the nurse to accommodate us before they close for lunch, but to no avail. This common predicament started off our conversation.

Kelly, I found out, was bitten by his own pet dog. He was staying up late at night playing computer games when he went out of the room to take a pee. Unfortunately, he stepped on his sleeping dog, a huge Labrador, and the startled dog bit him on reflex, with it's fangs lodging on his back side. According to their story, the dog quickly withdrew when it realized that it was Kelly he had attacked. Moral of the story: even pets can be dangerous.

We decided to take our lunch together at the canteen in the adjacent building. It was a huge hall overlooking rolling hills and the golf course - not bad for a government hospital canteen. The food was not bad either, and considering the cost, it's a good bargain. It was during lunch, with the magnificent view of the rolling hills and the gentle breeze on our hair, that I got to know more of Kelly's story through his Lola.

Kelly's mother was her eldest child, the pride and joy of her parents - a school achiever who graduated with a degree of Foreign Service. She got married early though, with her childhood sweetheart. When Kelly was barely a year old, she progressively lost her eyesight. After hopping from one hospital to another, their world came crumbling down when it was confirmed that both her kidneys were deteriorating abnormally fast.

The failing eyesight, it turned out, was because her high blood pressure had burst the blood vessels of her retina. Both her kidneys soon stopped functioning. From then on, she had been in and out of the hospital, with blood transfusion and hemo dialysis becoming a daily routine. Their story was all too familiar for someone whose own mother had to contend with kidney problems.

She spoke about how she had to learn how to administer peritoneal dialysis, how her daughter slips in and out coma, of the endless wait for a kidney donor. She spoke of the emotional distress, of not knowing how it will all end, of just wanting to do anything - try anything to save her daughter's young life. Tears fell from her eyes when she spoke of their final surrender, when her child, her frail body on the verge of giving up, asked that she be allowed to go and rest.

She was tired and guilty that she had caused so much distress and suffering - emotionally and financially, to her family. Kelly was there anyway, he will take her place. She just wanted to give up the fight. It was a valiant fight - but one they could never hope to win. Even if as a daughter and a young mother, she was not ready, she surrendered everything to God's will, and asked that her parents do the same.

Suddenly, there was a connection between me and the woman across the table. As she was telling me her story, her daughter's story, I recalled my own mother's struggle with diabetes and all its complications. She was telling my own story from another perspective! If I were devastated with losing my mother, there is nothing more heartbreaking than a mother burying the child she bore in her womb and nurtured through the years.

I remembered our own struggles as a family when our dear Nanay was admitted to the hospital for the last time. Sometimes, in our desire to hold on to our love ones for as long as we can, we tend to overlook the pain and suffering that they have to go through. When Kelly's mother died, it took years for those she left behind to recover and accept the fact that she is gone. I remember my own struggles, the many regrets for lost opportunities to express love and gratitude, the many "if only" that kept playing in my mind.

We found ourselves sharing our experiences during those difficult days after the passing of loved ones. Hers was a firsthand experience of a mother seeing her daughter slip away right before her very eyes. Mine was of a son, many miles and oceans away, trying to hold unto a fading hope of recovery for a mother who gave so much for her family. The scene was surreal, with both of us looking far into the horizon even as we spoke with tears streaming down from our eyes. I had tried to hold back the tears, but eventually had to let it go.

But it felt so good. I felt a certain lightness in my being just talking with her - a total stranger who shares a common experience of loss. It was only after five years that she was able to bring out again the pictures of her daughter, and she had come to accept her untimely departure. After all, she has two other children, and Kelly, to take care of. Kelly's father had gone abroad and started a new family, although he still keeps in touch. She had no ill-feelings about his decision. He is still young, and she does not take it against him to find happiness of his own. She said she makes it a point to explain to Kelly why his grandparents have to raise him as their own son. He seemed to understand, even at a very young age.

At a little past 1PM, we went back together to the Animal Bite Center. There were already many people waiting at the reception area, even more than there were in the morning when we first came in. Kelly's name and mine were called one after the other at around 3PM. We sat across each other while waiting for the nurses to prepare the syringes to be used for the skin test, two each for both of us.

He asked me, quite nonchalantly, "Are you afraid?"

Wanting to be honest and to somehow assuage his fear, I replied to him, "A little bit. Are you?"

"No, not all. My Lola said it will just be like the bite of a little ant." Enough of assuaging the fears of a little kid. I had clearly underestimated his guts.

We were both secretly throwing glances at each other when the nurses finally pricked the skins on our arms and injected the serum. If it was supposed to be like an ant's bite, as Kelly's Lola had claimed, it sure was an ant the size of a dog. The serum was painful! But Kelly stood his ground and his face was without any trace of fear or hurt.

What choice do a grown up man have against such a show of grit? I have to step up to the plate and pretend as if I did not feel any pain myself. The skin tests produced two small humps on our arms, and the nurses drew circles around them with labels and the time we have to come back to have it examined prior to the actual injections. We went out of the room together, and decided to wait out the time outside the building.

While his Lola busied herself with talking with another woman who accompanied a neighbor's rather unkempt kid, Kelly sat down with me on the porch by the building's driveway. We compared the needle pricks on our arms and he asked me what the labels were for. I told him it was to determine if we will have any allergic reactions to the injections that will come later.

Fear. I finally saw a glimpse of fear on his face. He thought the two test injections were just about it, and then he can go. He called for his Lola and asked if they can just go home. He said he is tired and sleepy, and besides, the wound has healed. His Lola prevailed upon him to stay put, assuring him that the injections will be less painful that the skin tests. When his Lola left to resume her conversation with the other woman, Kelly turned to me again.

"You know, my dog had vaccines. And the wound is already healing. I'm okay now. Do you think I still need to get injections? Can I go home now?" Kelly, the little brave boy, was betrayed by fear in his eyes.

"Are you afraid now? You were a brave boy a while ago. You did not cry like the others."

Looking down on his slippers, he said softly, "It actually hurt a lot, a lot more than the dog bite itself. I did not cry because I told you I will not. And you did not cry either, so I just pretended it did not hurt."

"It is okay to cry if it really hurts. You do not have to worry about me or the others. Did you see the other kids? They were all crying and shouting like pigs being slaughtered." He then lifted up his face, looked at me, then let out a faint smile.

"Are you rich? You have a car, you must be rich." I told him I am not, that I need the car for my work and to get around.

"My Lola said I should study hard so I can get rich and buy my own car. I am an honor student! Maybe I can be like you when I grow up?" Then he rattled off his grades - very impressive. I would have been proud if I were his father.

"Do you have a family? Why did you come here alone? Do you also have a son?" The questions are shooting out from his mouth one after the other.

"Yes, I have a family - my father and my brothers and sisters. But I do not have a wife and children. " I was struggling with the right words to say. I was not ready for a father-and-son type of conversation. They do not teach this in management school!

"Oh! Like me! I don't have a mama and papa, but Lola and Lolo love me very much. And I have my aunties and uncles. My mama died when I was a baby." His voice was happy. but I can see the sadness in his eyes.

"You are one lucky boy! Your Lola is great. I'm sure she loves you very much."

"Yes, but I wish I have a mama too, like my classmates. Why is your mama not with you now?"

"My mother also died almost 10 years ago." Suddenly, it seems like I was talking to myself as a little boy. "Like your mama, she had problems with her kidney."

Nanay would have been there with me had she been around, as she had always been.

When I was in fifth or sixth grade (don't ask me why I can't remember correctly now - blame it on three-letter word that starts with "a"), our school organized a 3-day Boy Scout's Camp-out. The camping ground was not very far from where we live, but it required us to stay for two nights and 3 days. As such, we were required to undergo a medical examination by the school doctor to make sure we are fit enough for the activities.

After the doctor had examined me, he had a worried look on his face when he spoke with my teacher. He had detected a murmur in my heartbeat and suspected symptoms of rheumatic heart disease. I cannot be allowed to join my fellow scouts, classmates and friends all, for my first ever camp-out. Me and my friends were frustrated as we were all looking forward to this event. Everyone passed the medical examination, except me.

I was crestfallen. I cried all the way back home. I told my Nanay about what the doctor said. I pleaded for her to ask the doctor and my teachers to allow me to join my classmates. She went back with me to the school. The doctor told her that he was worried I may not be fit enough for the physical activities. My mother spoke with my teachers as well. I do not know how she did it, but she managed to convince them to let me join my troop. I was overjoyed.

I had a wonderful time camping out with my friends and other boy scouts from different schools. I can't recall now if she stayed at the camp the entire time, but I do remember that Nanay would always be around during those 3 days, staying with teachers at the faculty tent. She stayed out of sight most of the time though, but I knew she was just there, always making sure that she was around in case anything went wrong with me. She was my angel then as she is now that she is in heaven.

My Nanay loved me enough to protect me and make sure no harm will come my way, but she loved me even more by allowing me space to grow and discover the world on my own.

"Do you remember her? I only saw my mama in pictures. But I love her very much. Lola said my mama loves me very much too." I looked at Kelly and wish he would always remember his own words when he grows up.

"Have you been a good boy?"

"Yes!", he quickly said, then let out an impish smile. "Well, sometimes I am not. Is that why I got bitten by our dog and had to be injected?"

"No, of course not. Sometimes things happen even if we do not want to. But you have to learn from them, so they will not happen again." He nodded, then fidgeted with his fingers.

Just then, the street kid accompanied by the woman speaking with Kelly's Lola came out of the facility and played around the driveway. He was dirty, barefoot and malnourished. He was oblivious of the warnings from the guard and other people. Apparently, he was attacked by the woman's dog when he taunted it. The kid was eleven years old, but was only as big as six-year old Kelly.

"Will I be like him because of the dog bite?" He had a worried look on his face, throwing glances at the other kid. He thought the kid had gone sick and crazy because of rabies.

"No, you will not end up like him because many people love you. Your Lola will always take care of you."

He let out a wide grin on his face. "And my mama too! Lola said mama is always watching over me. I do not see her, but she is my angel in heaven." I smiled back at him, and remembered my own angel in heaven.

When it was time to have the injections, he went in first. I was expecting a loud cry from him, like all the other kids who had theirs. There was none. After a few minutes, my name was called and I was asked to come into the injection room. I met Kelly on his way out. He asked that I stoop down so he can whisper something to my ear.

"It really hurts. But its okay. I'm a grown up now. Don't cry when it's your turn, ok?" With that, he waved goodbye to me.

As I sat through the seven injections for that initial session, I had Kelly on my mind. The little boy who loved his mother even if he could not even remember how she looked like, the little boy who was not afraid of anything because he put all his trust in the unconditional love and protection of his mother.

As the nurse buried each needle deep into my muscles, I took the pain as little Kelly did - bravely and without fear. He did his mother proud. I was not about to fail my own.

Postscript: This blog entry is dedicated to the mothers in my family, most especially to our dear Nanay. It's been almost 10 years since she passed on and left us bereaved, but her memory lives on. On this Mother's Day, I pay tribute to her and all the women who made all of us possible.

Of Dog Bites And A Boy Named Kelly - Chapter 1

2008-04-29T13:14:00.011+08:00

This is a story about dogs and a little boy named Kelly.

First, the dogs.

As far as I remember, I've always had dogs for pets. My last pet dog, Jasper, passed away last February 14, Valentines Day. I used to play around with him a lot when he was younger, but when he got older, his thin coat of sharp fur caused an allergic reaction on my skin. For a dog who loves to stand on his two rear legs and wrap the other two around me, I needed to keep my distance. I generally get along very well with dogs, except for those that roam the streets and who would bark at and threaten everyone who would pass by. With these dogs around, I would call on the intercession of San Roque for protection.

Over the weekend, Sunday to be exact, I got invited to a birthday dinner for a friend. I was pleasantly surprised to see many dogs in the house. One dog in particular, a Japanese Spitz, freely mixed with the guests. We sat around in the living room, munching on finger foods and birthday noodles. I did not notice the dog beside me and had carelessly dropped my right arm by the side of the sofa chair I was sitting at. My arms must have startled the dog and he let out a sharp yelp and then snapped at my hands. In one instant, my hand became the finger food.

It was not painful at all, or maybe my hand just got numbed as blood flowed freely from the deep wound on my palm. I washed the wound with flowing water and let it bleed, alternately washing it with soap. Betadine completed the first-aid routine, and in no time at all, I was enjoying the party again. It somehow eased my apprehensions knowing that the dog had it's anti-rabies vaccination just six months before. But at the back of my mind, I knew I could never be sure. Visions of dogs roaming aimlessly, with mouth foaming and eyes bloodshot red kept my mind off the conversations. Worse, what if i get infected?

The morning after, the wound was visibly swollen. When my brother, who is a doctor, saw it he immediately sent me to the Research Institute for Tropical Medicine (RITM) in Alabang. The doctor who examined me was relieved that the dog was vaccinated, but she was worried about the swelling. I had not started howling, but what she just said sounded like bad news for me. My worst fear came true when she started scribbling not just one, but several prescriptions. And as if adding insult to injury, I was told that the dosage is based on my weight. How cruel can this world be?

We started with two shots on the right arm for skin tests against allergies. Though the needles were relatively smaller, the serum definitely had a bite! After a few minutes, when they were sure I will have no allergic reactions, we started with the real thing.

Watching the nurse prepare the syringes, I tried convincing myself that they were not all for me. I am to receive a total of seven shots in different parts of the body in one session. Tough luck. They were all for me. All seven of them. With most of the patients being kids, I needed to put up a brave front. I can't have my screams drown out the cries of the little kids in the injection room. So for a few moments of glory, I steeled myself and prepared to take on the shots one after the other.

We started with the left arm, then on the right. By the time she went for the left leg, then the right, and then lunged into my left buttock before giving the coup de grace in the wounds on both sides of my right hand, my body had somehow responded with a rush of adrenalin to help me cope with the pain. It was all over in less than ten minutes.

But the pain was not on the needles pricking deep into my body parts. It was more of the what ifs that have been playing on my mind on that fateful night of the bite. What if I had not gone to the party? What if I had not sat down on that chair? What if I just stuck to singing out of tune on the karaoke box instead of munching on the foods on the table? What if they just kept the dogs out of the house? What if I just took antibiotics and observed the dog before going through all these needle-pricking business? So many what ifs!

But the truth is, life is simply too precious to take for granted. Boring as it may be most of the time, it still feels wonderful to wake up each morning. And so, I am not about to take any chances when it comes to making sure life will be always beautiful for me and those around me. I do not want any of my families or friends worrying about a crazy old fat man getting out of his mind. No way, I will not leave this world in such ignomous exit.

Allow me then to stop my what ifs and do my civic duty instead. Part of the treatment is educating people on the dangers of rabies infection. First, some basic facts that we need to be aware of:

Rabies are not the exclusive domain of dogs. Most animals, including cats and most mammals, have rabies.
Rabies are not transmitted by bites only. An animal infected with the rabies virus can also infect a person through scratches or if saliva gets in contact with an open wound.
Rabies can remain dormant, or in latent state, for months or years. If you do not show signs of infection right after a suspected transmission, it does not mean you did not get the rabies.
When bitten or attacked by an animal, let the wound bleed by itself. Wash the would with soap on clean running water. When the bleeding had subsided, apply Betadine on the wound and proceed to the nearest Animal Bite Center in your area. Better yet, go to the Research Institute for Tropical Medicine (RITM) in Alabang. They have excellent facilities and great doctors and nurses.
DO NOT put garlic on the wound, as old people will ask you to do. Garlic will stunt the healing of the wound.
DO NOT kill the animal that bit you. If the animal does not belong to you, make sure you make arrangements for the owner to observe the animal for at least 14 days. Things that you need to look out for:

sudden change in behavior
urge to bite into anything
frothing in the mouth due to excess saliva
restlessness and agressiveness
running without direction
loss of appetite for food and water due to difficulty in swallowing

If the animal shows any of the above signs, it will be better to bring it to a veterinarian to be examined. If the animal dies, DO NOT eat or bury it. Chopped off the head and secure it in a plastic container with lots of ice to prevent decomposition. Bring it right away to RITM for examination.
DO NOT take chances. There is no wound or scratch that is too small for an infection. If you get bitten or scratched, proceed to the nearest Animal Bite Clinic, or to the RITM where I went to, and get your anti-rabies and anti-tetanus shots.
DO NOT drink any alcohol, or take steroids and medication for malaria while getting shots for anti-rabies. Be mindful of what you feel. Report any excessive itchiness of the skin, or fevers that would not go away.
DO NOT be afraid of needles - all sizes! You will deal with them all throughout the treatment sessions. As your momma would tell you - it's just like a bite from a small ant...

There you go - the ten commandments of dealing with dog bites, from someone who learned it the hard way.

Now, you may ask me, "What about the little boy named Kelly?". That would be in Chapter 2.

Meantime, stay safe and healthy. Awwwwwwoooooooooooo!

May Palengke sa Ibabaw ng Tulay

2008-04-23T22:27:00.002+08:00

Wala daw illegal vendors sa Pateros.

Maaliwalas daw ang mga bangketa.

Maayos na daw ang daloy ng trapiko.

Nilagyan pa ng MMDA ng bakod.

May nakapaskil pang bababala na bawal ang vendors.

Ang tao daw ay dapat maglakad sa bangketa.

Paano? Tatapakan ang mga gulay?

Lilipad? Di naman kasi pwedeng lumangoy sa tuyong ilog.

Kaya ang mga tao sa kalye namimili at naglalakad.

Ang mga jeep at FX sa ibabaw ng tulay nagbababa at nagsasakay.

Pati cutting trip duon ginagawa.

Lahat na yata ng kabalbalan sa ibabaw ng tulay ginagawa.

Di kaya dapat si Mayor sa ibababaw na rin ng tulay mag-opisina?

Thank You Mayor Medina!

2008-04-21T13:30:00.003+08:00

The news article today, 21 April 2008, in the Metro Section of the Philippine Daily Inquirer is a most welcome respite in this hot summer season. Mayor Medina made the right step in bringing into national attention the plight of the Pateros River. The death of this river will bring about disastrous effects on Pateros, especially because we are a low-lying area that is prone to flooding. This early, we can already see and feel the ill-effects of the abuse people have heaped on this once-useful river.

The article articulated the need for a concerted action to save the river, through the Pateros River Basin Organization. It re-affirmed the need for the support of the cities of Pasig, Taguig and Makati. I hope we can intensify this information campaign, as bringing this issue to national attention is an effective way to put subtle pressure on our bigger neighbors to help in the clean-up and restoration of our river. After all, they all contributed significantly on the deterioration of this vital waterway.

Let us all support this endeavor. Our town deserves no less.

Awit Para sa mga Mamamalakaya

2008-04-19T11:45:00.003+08:00

Tinig ng dagat ay awit
haplos ng alon ay gabay.
Saan nga ba patutungo
yaring paglalakbay sa buhay?

Malalayong lupain ay tinanaw
kapalaran sa kanila ay isinugal.
Bakit ang sariling dalampasigan
ay naging maramot sa kasaganahan?

Sa kalawakan ng karagatan
lambat ay tila walang katuturan.
Paano nga bang makikibahagi
sa yaman kundi sa pagpupunyagi?

Malupit na unos ay di alintana
sa Poong Maykapal ay manalig.
Dito sa ating pamamalakaya
tanging sandigan ay pananampalataya.

Sa kadiliman ng kalawakan
mga bituin tila nagmamatyag,
umagang kay gandang bukang-liwayway
sa dalampasigan doon ay naghihintay.

Sulong mga mamamalakaya!
Kirot ng braso’y di alintana
ang paglalayag sa karagatan
hatid ay mithing kasaganahan.

Ang tula o awit na ito ay aking nilikha bunsod ng ala-ala ng ilang mga kaibigan at kaanak na ngayon ay namamalakaya sa ibang bansa. Batid kong di nila nilisan ang ating bayan upang ito'y takasan at tuluyan ng talikuran. Mapanglaw at makirot sa damdamin ang mga unang araw at gabi sa ibang bayan. May mga pagkakataon na sasagi sa isipang mas mainam pa na talikuran na lamang ang mga pangarap at pangangailangan at magbalik sa piling ng mga minamahal.

Mapalad ako na magkaroon ng pagkakataon na makapagtampisaw sa malinis na ilog ng Pateros nuong aking kamusmusan. Kasama ng aking dalawang kapatid na babae, madalas kaming dumalaw sa bahay ni Ti' Leony sa Aguho, sa may pangpang ng ilog. Duon ay naliligo kami at naglalaro. Kung minsan ay lulan ng bangka, binabaybay namin ang kahabaan ng malinis at malawak na ilog. Ang dako ng Fort Bonifacio ay isang malawak na bukid, di gaya ngayon na siksik ng kabahayan at nagtatayugang mga gusali. Ang dako naman ng Pateros ay may mga itikan at munting taniman ng gulay. Sa isang mababaw na bahagi ay maaaninag ang mga isdang kumpol-kumpol. Malinis, masagana at kaaya-aya ang ilog.

Ngunit sa paglipas ng panahon ay nagbago ang lahat. Masikip, marumi at sa ibang bahagi ay tuyo na ang ilog. Wala na ang mga isda, at wala na rin ang mga itik. Wala ng namamangka, bagkus ang ilog ay maaari ng lakaran. Sa halip na tubig, basura ang makikita sa ilog. Saan pa ba tutungo ang mamamalakaya? Katulad nila, ang mga mamamayan ay sa ibang dako na sumusulyap ng pag-asa. Nililisan ang ating munting bayan upang hanapin ang kapalaran sa ibang karagatan. Kasama ng milyong-milyong Pilipino, ang mga taga Pateros ay sumubok ng kanilang kapalaran sa lahat ng sulok ng daigdig. Tulad ng ating ilog, ang ating bayan, ang ating bansa, ay unti-unting natutuyo, dumurumi at namamatay dahil sa ating kapabayaan. Sana, ang mga naiwan ay magpursiging maibalik ang buhay at sigla, at sa pagbabalik ng mga kababayan ay di na sila makasumpong muli ng dahilan upang lumisan at mangulila sa ibang karagatan.

Naging maramot ba ang sariling bayan? O tayo ba'y nagpabaya sa ating kinabukasan?

Abnoy! Abnoy!

2008-04-11T21:33:00.010+08:00

Smells like hell, tastes like heaven!

Nope, I am not referring to Davao's famous Durian. A true son of Pateros will only have one thing in mind when you say these words - ABNOY!

If balut is the "famous" delicacy of Pateros, abnoy may lay claim of being the "infamous" counterpart. If the uninitiated finds eating duck embryo revolting, wait till they hear what we do with rotten duck eggs.

Rotten. That's what it is. Abnoy is made from fertilized duck eggs that did not fully develop. As it begins to rot from the inside, it emits an odor most foul. But trust the people of Pateros to come up with the most fascinating foods even out of rotten eggs. Thus was born the bibingkang abnoy.

So, if you are ready for a Fear Factor experience, head for Pateros and get yourself raw abnoy eggs from any of the friendly balutans in our town. Once safely home, start your gastronomic adventure. Here's my favorite recipe for bibingkang abnoy:

Bibingkang Abnoy

What you will need:

abnoy eggs from Pateros
minced onion
chopped tomatoes
chopped kimchay
ground pepper
rock salt
banana leaves - optional

How to prepare:

Break the eggs and pour contents on a bowl. Be warned that the eggs will smell - and smell really bad. Don't say I didn't warn you on this.
After you have recovered from the initial shock, or if your nose had adjusted to the pungent smell (whichever comes first), beat the eggs as you would for an omelet.
Mix in the rest of the ingredients. Set aside.
Heat an omelet pan lined with banana leaves wide enough to spread over the cooking area. Pour cooking oil and let stand for a few seconds, or until hot enough.
Pour the mixture into the pan, over the banana leaf until about 1/4 inches thick. Let stand under moderate heat until the top portion is slightly cooked, then flip over. Let stand until both sides are brownish.
Poke with a fork to check if the inside is already cooked.
Take out from the pan and serve warm, with spicy vinegar on the side. Great with steamed rice or as bar chow. Some people from Pateros would prefer it with bahaw na kanin, or cold rice from yesterday.
A variation on cooking the abnoy mixture would be to steam it as you would a puto or siopao. Still another delicious way is to go unconventional by baking it in a traditional bibingka table top clay oven, with embers from charcoals on both the bottom and top sides. Now, think twice before trying this outside of the Philippines (that is, if you can find a stateside abnoy), as your exotic-food-challenged neighbors could find its differently abled aroma quite offensive. Too bad there's no other way to eat it other than straight from the pan.

And Harry Connick thinks eating balut is weird?

* Photo of bibingkang abnoy courtesy of lafang-list.bluechronicles.net, while that of slices being sold in Pateros is from the collection of Elmer Nocheseda.

Indak para kay Sta. Marta!

2008-04-05T13:25:00.010+08:00

Mula nang aking nakamulatan, ang mga mamamayan ng Pateros, pati na ng mga karatig-bayan at kahit ng malalayong lugar tulad ng Laguna, Rizal, Quezon at Bulacan, ay buong pananabik na hinihintay ang ikalawang araw ng Linggo tuwing buwan ng Pebrero. Sa araw na ito ay ipinagdiriwang ang kapistahan ni Santa Martha, pintakasi ng mga ina at ng mga maybahay. At sa mga deboto nya sa Pilipinas lalo na sa bayan ng Pateros, siya ang tagapangalaga at tagapagtanggol ng mga mag-iitik at magbabalut.

Hindi na siguro malalaman pa kung paano at kailan nangyari na ang pintakasi ng barrio ng Aguho ay siyang ipinagdiriwang ng buong bayan ng Pateros gayung ang parokya ay nasa pangangalaga ni San Roque. Marahil siguro dahil sa ang pag-iitik at pagbabalot ay di lamang sa Aguho ginagawa. Marahil ay dahil sa mas makulay ang mga alamat at kuwento ng himala na pumapaligid kay Santa Martha, at mas masaya ang pagdiriwang ng kanyang kapistahan kung ihahambing sa taimtim na prusisyon para kay San Roque. Kung anut-ano man ang dahilan, di maikakaila na napamahal na si Santa Marta sa mga taga-Pateros, at ang kanyang kapistahan ay naging masayang bahagi na ng ating kasaysayan bilang isang bayan. Sa mahabang panahon, ang Pateros ay naging tanyag ng dahil sa tatlong bagay – ang balut, ang tsinelas na alfombra at ang pista ni Santa Marta.

Ngunit sa pagdaan ng panahon, nagbago ang anyo ng bayan ng Pateros. Dumami at lumaki ang mga gusali, naglipana ang mga sasakyan at nagmistulang kumipot ang mga lansangan bagaman ang karamihan sa mga ito ay niluwagan pa man din. Dumagsa ang mga tao galing sa ibat-ibang lugar. Sa kabila ng mga pagbabagong ito, ang Pateros ay nagsumikap na mapanatili ang kanyang mga nakagisnang tradisyon. Ngunit sadyang mapanukso ang pagkakataon, at ang mga salin-lahi ay unti-unti ng nakalimot sa nakaraan. Kasabay ng pagsikil sa daloy ng tubig at tuluyang pagkamatay ng ilog ng Pateros, ay unti-unti na ring naglaho ang mga nakagisnang tradisyon – mga tradisyong nagbigay ng karakter sa ating bayan at kulay sa ating kalinangan.

Marami ang nagsikap na sa kabila ng nakatambak na basura at ng maitim at mabahong tubig, ay maisakatuparan pa rin ang pagoda sa ilog. Naaalala ko pa ang di mabilang na pagtatangka na hukayin muli at palalimin ang ilog, ang paghawan sa mga mapanupil na water lilies upang mairaos ang pagoda. Sa huli ay wala ring nangyari, dahil na rin sa ningas-kugon na pagkilos ng pamahalaan at ang pagwawalang bahala ng mga mamayan. Pinatay natin ang ilog na nagbigay kabuhayan sa ating mga ninuno at nagbigay ng malaking katanyagan sa ating munting bayan.

Dahil na rin sa pagsisikap ng simbahan na maituwid ang sa palagay nila ay di angkop na pagdiriwang ng kapistahan ng bayan, ilang kura-paroko at mga pinunong layko na ang nagtangkang baguhin ang paraan ng pagdiriwang. Ngunit ang lahat ng mga pagtatangkang maituwid ang pamamaraan ng pagdiriwang ay nauwi lamang sa pagkalito at pagkakanya-kanya ng mga barrio sa kanilang pagdiriwang ng pista. Nakalulungkot mang isipin na sa halip na ang mga pagbabagong hinangad ay magbunga ng kaayusan at pagkakaisa, ito ay nauwi sa di pagkakasundo at pagkalimot sa ating mga tradisyong kinamulatan.

Nuong Sabado, ika-9 ng Pebrero 2008, ay muling binuhay ng gating mga pinuno ang tradisyon ng pagoda. Ngunit dahil sa ang ilog ay di na dinadaluyan ng tubig, ang pagoda ay idinaos sa lansangan. Sa halip na mga bankang naglalayag sa ilog Pateros, mga sasakyang pinalamutian na animo’y magagarang bangka ang pumalaot sa mga pangunahing lansangan ng Pateros. Di iilan ang natuwa sa pangyayaring ito, at kitang-kita sa mga nanood ang kaligayahan sa nasaksihang kakaibang parada. At lalo akong nasiyahan ng bago mag-umpisa ang Pandangguhan nung gabi ring iyon ay inihayag ang pagkakatatag ng Pateros River Basin Organization. Ayon sa pahayag, ang samahang ito ay magbubuklod sa ibat-ibang sektor ng bayan upang bumalangkas ng mga palatuntunang naglalayon na buhayin muli ang ilog ng Pateros.

Dapat papurihan ang mga namuno sa hakbangin na ito, sapagkat ito ay magandang panimula upang maisaayos ang ating bayan. Ang ilog ng Pateros ay simbolo ng ating bayan, ang nagbigay ng kabuhayan sa kanyang mga mamamayan at nagsilang at nagkanlong sa kanyang mayamang kultura at tradisyon. Ang muli nitong pagkabuhay ay magsisilbing inspirasyon at hudyat tungo sa magandang pagbabago sa ating bayan. Sa pag-agos muli ng tubig sa ating ilog ay babangon muli ang Pateros. Dahil sa pangyayaring ito ay nagkaroon ng mas malalim na kahulugan ang pagdiriwang ang nakaraang pista. Naniniwala ako na sa pagtutulungan ng pamahalaan, ng simbahan at ng mga mamamayan, matutunghayan muli ang pagoda sa ilog sa darating na panahon.

Sayang nga lamang at nuong nagpirmahan ay hindi naihayag ang kabuuan ng Memorandum of Agreement para sa Pateros River Basin Organization. Sana ay magkaroon tayo ng pagkakataon na makakuha ng sipi ng kasunduan upang mailahatla dito. Mabuting ang kaalaman tungkol sa palatuntunang ito ay maipamahagi sa nakararami upang mahimok ang lahat na aktibong makilahok sa pamamagitan ng kanya-kanyang paraan. Ang anumang hakbangin na gagawin ay kailangan ng pakikilahok ng mga karatig bayan ng Pasig, Taguig at lalo ng Makati. Ang pagdami ng tao at kabahayan sa pangpanging sakop ng Makati, at ang pagtatayo ng talipapa sa may tulay ng Pateros ay isang malaking kadahilanan sa pagkamatay ng ating ilog. Marapat lamang na ang pamunuan ng Makati ay makilahok sa muling pagbuhay nito. Kung hindi sila makikipagtulungan ay tiyak na maaantala ang muling pagsasaayos ng ilog.

Bilang mga mamamayang nagmamalasakit sa bayan, katungkulan nating makibahagi sa anumang paraan sa pagtataguyod ng magandang hangarin ng bagong samahang ito. Bilang mapanuring tagapagmasid sa mga nangyayari, katungkulan din nating suriing mabuti ang palatuntunan at ihayag ang anumang mga katanungan at agam-agam. Sana nga ay ito na ang simula ng pagtutulungan ng lahat ng kinauukulan tungo sa maayos, malinis at maunlad na bayan ng Pateros.

* You-Tube video of Pandango ni Sta Marta is from the post of Elmer Nocheseda, while that of the Pagoda sa Daan is from the post of Charmaine Camilo.

The Filipino Holocaust

2008-04-01T21:23:00.005+08:00

It is pathetic that a lot of people would rather let Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo and her cabal of tradpols continue their merry plunder of this nation for the reason that "eh sino naman ang papalit?" It is the same reason used by those who kill themselves - that the future does not hold anything for them anymore. But do we really know what the future holds for us? Kick out GMA and her gang of thieves now and we can have either a better government or another bad one, even worse. But at least we have a 50-50 chance of getting a good government. Let her continue her remorseless and guiltless reign of plunder and

Bangladesh

will be far better off than us by the time they are through raiding our national coffers. Give her until 2010 and she can use all the resources of government and the military to make sure the next regime will be friendly to her. That is, if she will not find a way to perpetuate herself in power. She did it in 2004, what's stopping her from doing it again in 2010?

Even more pathetic are government officials and other sycophants daring critics of the wrongdoings of this administration to go to court and show proof. My foot! Where do they expect us to go to? To the Ombudsman who is the classmate and good friend of the First Gentleman? To the Department of (in)Justice whose Secretary is the president of the GMA For President Forever Movement? Or to the Supreme Court whose majority members do not mind being the laughing stock of the entire legal profession just so they can please the president who appointed them? So pray tell me, where do we run to for succor? And what evidence are we talking about here? If you are stealing US$130 million from the government, will you knowingly leave evidences on your trail? If I planned for months to murder someone and finally got to do it, will I walk around with the death weapon on my hand? Will I leave my fingerprints on the crime scene? These people think we Filipinos are a bunch of nincompoops who will take their web of lies and deceit line, hook and sinker. I beg to disagree!

GMA and her accomplices may be having their cake and eating it too as of now. But they will not escape the judgment of history. Just as they are robbing the next generation of their future, the next generation of their children and their children's children will bear the memory of their misdeeds like the mark of Cain on their foreheads. The dreaded Holocaust had three major players - the persecuted Jews, the murderous Nazis, and those who saw nothing wrong with what the Nazis were doing and did nothing to stop the genocide. The Jews stood their ground, kept their faith and fought to the very end. The rape of our treasury, the pillage of our future and the corruption of our government institutions is our Filipino Holocaust. Our dignity as a people and the future of our country are being systematically and completely destroyed by the very people who are supposed to protect them. The choice is ours - we can be the defiant Jews, or the murderous and remorseless Nazis or apathetic fence-sitters. What role are we playing in this carnage?

Ika-108 Taon ng Bayan ng Pateros

2008-03-29T17:38:00.010+08:00

Isang malaki at masayang pagdiriwang ang inihanda ng pamunuang bayan para sa ika isang daan at walong kaarawan ng pagkakatatag ng bayan ng Pateros. Tulad ng mga nakaraang taon, ang kahabaan ng Kalye B. Morcilla as isinara sa lahat ng uri ng sasakyan, at sa magkabilang dulo nito ay nagtayo ng mga entablado. Sa gabi ng Sabado, ika dalawamput-siyam ng Marso, ay maghahalinhinan ang mga sikat na banda sa pagtugtog para sa ikaaaliw ng mga mamamayan at mga bisita. Naglagay din ng mga mesa at upuan sa kahabaan ng kalsada, at may mga kubol kung saan makakabili ng mga pagkain na sa Pateros lamang matatagpuan.

Syempre pa, hindi mawawala ang sikat na produkto ng Pateros, ang balut. Bukod dito, mayroon ding penoy at ang mabaho ngunit napakasarap na abnoy. Para sa mga hindi nakakaalam, ang abnoy ay gawa sa mga itlog ng itik na sana ay gagawing balut ngunit sa kasamaang palad ay nasira bago pa umabot sa kaganampan. Dahil sa ito ay maitutuling ng bugok, mabaho at maalisangsang ang amoy ng hilaw na abnoy. Ngunit maparaan ang mga taga-Pateros, at di hahayaang masayang ang itlog kahit ito'y bugok. Matapos haluan ng kamatis, sibuyas at kimchay, ang bugok na itlog ay naging bibingkang abnoy. Sa saliw ng maanghang na suka, ito ay masarap na ulam sa mainit na kanin, o di kaya'y kakaibang pulutan. Maaring di nyo magustuhan ang amoy sa unang pagkakataon, ngunit sa minsang pagkakataong inyong masubukan ay tiyak na di na malilimutan!

Pagkakataon na rin upang matikman ang ibat-ibang kakaibang pagluluto ng itik sa Pateros. Bukod sa piniritong itik, ito ay ginagawa ding adobo sa gata at kaldereta. Ang adobo sa gata ay hinahaluan ng maraming bawang, at pagkatapos as pinakukuluan ng matagal gamit ang marahang apoy hanggang ang sa gata ay halos matuyo na. Samantala, ang kaldereta naman ay hinahaluan ng sili, kinatas na kamatis at binurong pipino (pickles). Ang aking paborito ay yaong mga lutuing sinahugan ng maraming lamang loob gaya ng atay at balun-balunan. Ngunit, hindi lahat ay maaring makapagluto ng itik, dahil kinakailangan ang matiyagang paghahanda nito upang maalis ang lansa ng karne. Medyo may kakunatan din ito, kaya kailangan pang palambutin. Subalit sa oras na ito ay maluto na at inyong matikman, tiyak na hahanap-hanapin kahit na sumakit pa ang inyong batok dahil sa kolesterol.

Mayroon pang isang pagkain na katutubong Pateros ngunit bihira ko ng makitang iniluluto. Ito ay ang Ukbo. Ang ukbo ay mga sisiw at pulang bahagi ng balut na sumobra sa araw. Kapag masyadong malaki at buo na ang sisiw, ito ay di na maaring gawing balut. Ang sabi ng mga matatanda, ang ukbo ay di maaring ipagbili ng mga magbabalut, bagkus ito ay ipinamimigay sa mga kaanak at kaibigan. Dahil may kamag-anak na may balutan, ay nagkaroon ng maraming pagkakataon na makapagluto ng ukbo ang aking Nanay. Iniluluto ito na parang menudo, at ang maliliit na bahagi ng katawan ng sisiw ay nahahalo sa mga pula ng itlog. Maaring di magustuhan ng mga maseselan ang hitsura nito, ngunit para sa akin ito ang isa mga pinakamasarap na niluluto ng aking Nanay na hanggang ngayon ay nasa aking ala-ala.

May ngiting namumutawi sa aking mga labi tuwing maaalala ko ang isang pangyayari sa aking kabataan. May nagbigay ng ukbo sa aking Nanay at ang mga itlog ay kanyang inilagay pansamantala sa reprigereytor. Nung ako ay bata pa ay nakatoka sa akin ang paglalagay ng inuming tubig sa mga bote na inilalagay naman sa reprigereytor upang lumamig. Nang aking buksan ang reprigereytor, nakarinig ako ng mahinang "tik! tik! tik!" mula sa loob. Hinanap ko sa paligid ang pinagmumulan ng munting ingay at ito ay natunton ko sa bungkos ng mga itlog na nasa bandang ibaba ng reprigereytor. Sinipat ko ang mga ito at inilapit ang aking tainga upang matukoy ang pinagmumulan ng ingay. Laking gulat ko nang ang isa sa mga itlog ay mag-umpisang mapisa at ang "tik!, tik!, tik!" ay napalitan ng "kwak!, kwak!, kwak!"

"Nanay! Nanay! Nanay! May sisiw sa loob ng reprigereytor!" Kinuha namin ang itlog at hinayaang makalabas ang bagong silang na itik. Nanlaki ang aking mga mata habang masusing binantayan ang pagsubok ng munting itik na tumayo at maglakad. Napansin kong hirap itong tumayo, at lalong hirap na humakbang. Ito pala ay may kapansanan. Pilay ang aking sisiw. Ngunit sa kabila nito, siya ay nakalakad pa rin, kahit na iika-ika. Naging mas kakatuwa nga ang kanyang paglalakad at pagtakbo dahil wari'y lagi itong umiindak. Maraming araw ang aming pinagsamahan ng aking ukbong nakaligtas sa kawali, at kahit na ito'y may kapansanan ay naging bahagi ng isang makulay at masayang yugto ng aking kabataan.

Isang-daan at walong taon na pala ang aking bayan. Bawat salin-lahi ay may kanya-kanyang ala-ala ng bayang nagkanlong sa amin. Magmula ng ito ay isa lamang nayon ng Pasig, o ng Taguig, o bilang isang bayang may kasarinlan, mag-iba man ang hugis at anyo ng kanyang kasaysayan ay mananatili itong kumukupkop at nagkakanlong sa kanyang mga mamamayan. Marami ng nagdaang mga unos - bagyo, baha, lindol, sunog, mga himagsikan at digmaan, ngunit ang maliit na bayan ng Pateros ay buong giting na pinangangalagaan ang kanyang kasarinlan, kultura at tradisyon. Sa kabila ng malawakan at mabilis na pagbabago at pag-unlad, nawa'y manatili itong mapayapa, maayos at hitik sa kultura at kasaysayan.

Isang masayang pagpupugay sa iyong ika-108 na kaarawan, mahal kong Bayan ng Pateros!

* Image of an early Pateros Seal when the town was still part of the Province of Manila is from the photo collection of Elmer Nocheseda.

Endings and beginnings...

2008-03-27T15:54:00.007+08:00

Many years ago, when people only had geocities and angelfire instead of blogs, I put together an online journal and called it “Sojourn”. I had to learn HTML basics to be able to give it a semblance of a web site, not like the push-button publishing that blogs offer today. Sojourn was my soul mate on the net. I poured out my thoughts on it through both prose and poetry. It became the journal of my life, a record of my travels, of my adventures, of the people I met, of the food I cooked and ate, of my hopes, dreams and political angst.

Then along the way something happened to my life, and my cyber world stopped on its track. I stayed away from the net and let my Sojourn disappear into oblivion. It was as if there never was. Like Atlantis forever lost in the ocean depths, my cyber-extension disappeared into the bits and bytes of the virtual universe.

Age, the advanced stage or somewhere near it to be specific, has a way of reminding us that we too will someday disappear into the sunset. Our bodies, frail and fleeting as they are, will eventually find its way back into the bosom of our Mother Earth. But long after we are gone, people will remember the words we spoke or wrote, the things we did that mattered to them, and the things we failed to do that could have mattered to them. It will always be about us and them, and how we affected each other's lives.

Thus it came to be that one night during the recent Holy Week, my fingers led me to that new Shangri-la of the Internet Universe – Blogspot.com. After a few minutes of feeling myself around like a little lost boy in a huge toy supermarket, I officially became one of the zillions of bloggers on the net. I chose to be the little voice of my quaint little town of Pateros, because it is the only home sweet home I know in my entire armchair life. It is the town that cradled my forebears and nourished my parents. Warts and all, it will always be my quaint little town. Always.

* Images are from the photo collection of Elmer Nocheseda. Original poetry by Dennis E. Concepcion.

Bangon Pateros E-Group

2008-03-26T22:27:00.007+08:00

It all started when I sent an open letter to the local leaders of Pateros. This was prompted by a front page article on the Philippine Daily Inquirer about a raid on an alleged drug and sex den right in the middle of the Poblacion. I mean, we all know that things have been going a bit downhill the past several years, but I did not think it would have gone that low. It was also out of frustration at the seeming helplessness of local authorities to put order on our streets, and the slow but sure deterioration of the environment - especially the Pateros River.

A few days after I posted the letter in the official website of the Municipal Government, I got a response from Congresswoman Lani Cayetano, then from Mayor Joey Medina almost a month after. In between these two responses, copies of the letter somehow found their way into email boxes of concerned kababayans. The feedback I got was overwhelming, and very positive. I was elated to realize that there are many other former and current residents who share the same sentiments, the same hopes and aspirations for positive change and transformation for our beloved town.

Thus was born the idea of an e-group for people who care for Pateros. I created the Bangon Pateros E-Group and invited friends to join. This email group is dedicated to providing an open and democratic forum for the people of Pateros, to discuss the various issues and concerns about our beloved town. In so doing, we hope to bring these issues to the attention of our leaders, be able to discuss solutions and encourage members to be active participants in efforts to help our town get back on track.

If you want to be a member of this e-group, you can visit the group site at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bangon_pateros or send a blank email to bangon_pateros-subscribe@yahoogroups.com. No effort is too small if done together. We can all make a difference!

Harry Connick, Jr. Eats Balut!

2008-03-23T20:50:00.020+08:00

Pateros will always be associated with Balut. Always.

When people ask me where I live and I tell them I stay in Pateros, they would always ask “Where is that? Is that in Novaliches?” Or any other place up north, down south, or even the far east or the wild wild west. Anywhere except Pateros.

"It’s that little town that makes the best tasting balut." After hearing this from me, finally you see their faces light up. The magic word just opened their minds to the reality that there is indeed a town named Pateros. One wonders if Pateros gave birth to the balut, or if it was balut that gave birth to Pateros. However one looks at it, the fates of Pateros and Balut are forever intertwined.

And yes Kulasa, the famous singer/actor from New Orleans did eat a whole balut on stage during his recent concert here in Manila. Harry Connick Jr. must have been watching too many episodes of The Fear Factor to make balut-eating the cornerstone of the intermission spiel for this one-night-only concert. People actually paid handsome money - even obscene during these difficult times, to see him do this. Fortunately, a friend who works at MTV gave us free tickets - bless his good soul.

And you read it right, he ate one whole balut. The yolk, the duck embryo and that hard white portion that everyone calls the “bato” – he shoved it all into his mouth in one go. It must have taken him more than 5 minutes to finally swallow the entire thing. He paced back and forth on the stage, even going down and taking a seat on the front row. He finally downed the balut with the help of 2 cans of Coke.When he sat down and played the piano, he gave out a loud burp in the middle of a song. The audience was in stitches. The white man has earned his right to be an adopted Pinoy.

However, not everything in that intermission was amusing. There were some patently embarrassing lapses, especially when a Filipina lady from the front row was called on stage to teach Harry the correct way to eat balut. They should just have called in the balut vendor outside the PICC if they wanted to do it correctly.

So, let us get some things straight about this famous Pateros delicacy:

Only duck eggs can be made into Balut. More specifically, it is the egg laid by the local duck variety called the “pato”, sometimes more commonly referred to as "itik". They should not be confused with the common white-colored duck, which we call "bibe". The eggs laid by itiks can be distinguished by its hard shell. In the olden days, these ducks were raised in the Pateros River, where abundant shellfish were conducive for ducks to produce these hard-shelled eggs. But now the river is dead and the ducks are gone, thus Pateros imports the eggs it uses to produce balut from Laguna. Some towns have tried to imitate balut by using chicken eggs. Believe me, you will not like what you will see when you crack open those bogus baluts. So make sure the shell is hard enough before buying that balut.
Fresh duck eggs are called “sariwa”, which literally means fresh. This can be boiled like ordinary chicken eggs and eaten with salt, or made into delicious omelets. The “sariwa” is also the base for another famous Pateros product – the red egg. The fresh duck eggs are immersed into a salty concoction for some time, then boiled and colored red to distinguish it from its more famous cousin. The best “maalat” or "itlog na pula", as the red eggs are called by locals, are those that have yolks oozing with natural oil. Definitely yummy, especially with fresh tomatoes and rice, or as filling for hot pan-de-sal.
Those that are selected to become balut are put into large drums made from bamboo strips filled with dried rice husks and kept in warehouses called “kamalig”. This is the native and completely organic version of an incubator used to keep the eggs warm. The counting of the days need to be precise, or else you may end up with embryos that are either too small or too large. Monitoring is done through “pagsisilaw” or putting the eggs against a small hole carved out of a wooden box with a high-wattage bulb inside working pretty much like an x-ray machine. The ideal incubation days would be between 16 to 17 days for a perfect “balut sa puti”.
When an egg fails to fertilize during this period, it becomes another incarnation of the balut, the “penoy”. Remember, your friendly balut vendor always shout “balut! penoy! balut!” as immortalized in that catchy folk song. The Penoy is a Balut that failed to fertilize, and is boiled like an ordinary egg and can become either a “higupin”, meaning it is creamy and can be sucked from the shell – literally, or like an ordinary hard boiled egg but with the yolk and the white already mixed together – imagine scrambled egg but still inside the shell. There is also the “heko-heko”, which is a bit blackish and had a slight pungent smell. Definitely not for the faint of heart.
As in any pregnancy – which is what balut is all about anyway, things can go wrong along the way. The fertilized egg can “die” before it reaches the ideal maturity date – a miscarriage if you may call it. The embryo stops developing and start to rot inside the shell. Ordinarily, these rotten eggs will be thrown away, or put into better use by being thrown towards the direction of rotten politicians. But in Pateros, we have a special name for this – the “abnoy”. It is a delicacy that requires an acquired taste. It is not for everyone, especially if you do not relish eating a rotten egg. But like the durian, its connoisseurs swear that it might smell rotten like hell, but it sure does taste like heaven. I will provide a recipe for the abnoy in a later post, in case you want to be adventurous with what you put in your mouth.

Harry asked an impeccably dressed lady from the audience to teach him how to eat the balut. Unfortunately, the lady must have not even eaten a balut in her entire sheltered life. So, all she could offer were half-hazard guesses on the “how-to” of eating a balut. So how does one eat a balut? There is actually a time-honored ritual for this favorite pinoy gastronomic past-time. If you want to be a true-blue balut worshipper, read on…

Take the warm balut (yes, it has to be warm!) in your hands and look for the larger end of the egg.
Strike the larger end against any hard surface (including your head if it is hard enough) until a small hole is cracked open. Peel off just enough broken shells to expose the egg's membrane. Make a hole in the membrane big enough to peek into the inside of the balut. Be careful not to spill the precious fluid inside!
Put the egg into your mouth and take a sip from the small opening. The amniotic fluid will prepare your taste buds for the next gastronomic experience, if you're still not throwing up, or fainting - whichever comes first at this point.
After the fluid had been fully drained in your mouth, start peeling off the rest of the shell until the inside of the egg is exposed halfway. Now, first timers are allowed to look away at this point, as the sight of the duck embryo may not be that appealing to a lot of people, especially if it is already well-developed with feathers, legs, beak and all very much identifiable. Sprinkle some rock salt on the balut and start biting into it. Some people will take 2 to 3 bites to finish off the egg, while some will take it all in one go, like Harry. I personally prefer eating the yolk first, then the embryo – if I’m in the mood. You are not supposed to eat the “bato”, which is the hard whitish part. Leave the "bato" for Darna and Ding.
Recently, I see a lot of people pouring vinegar into their balut. This is not all proper as the vinegar dilutes the delicate flavor of the egg. This is sacrilege! Balut is eaten warm and with rock salt, nothing more and nothing less. Stay with the basics and you will experience the full savory and delicate taste as it was intended to be.

So this is Balut 101 in a nutshell. Next time you feel like doing a Fear Factor, or if you are a seasoned balut eater already, keep these facts in mind. And while you are at it, remember that the fate of the balut is tied to the fate of the Pateros River. Please help our town revive the Pateros River. Years of neglect and apathy have virtually killed the once pristine river, and are now threatening to kill the balut industry itself. Once the source of duck eggs of the highest quality, Pateros now have to buy its eggs used for balut-making from Laguna. It is pathetic, even bordering on the insane. Pretty much the same as our situation with the country's rice supply.

I do not know the details of the recently launched Pateros River Basin Project, but if it aims to save and revive the Pateros River, I am all for it. Let us save our river, it is the soul of our beloved Pateros. It will be a shame if future generations will not be able to have the experience of eating Balut. Ask Harry Connick, Jr.

(Photo of Harry eating balut is taken from the MTV Philippines Website. Photo of "abnoys" is from the collection of Elmer Nocheseda.)

Gourmet Dinner for less than P100, Bah!

2008-03-22T19:31:00.003+08:00

For lack of anything more worthwhile to do, me and two of my friends decided to do some bonding - which usually means eating, eating and eating. In deference to Lent, we decided to be creative with what used to be the symbol of a poor man's meal - canned sardines. So with less than one hundred pesos, we bought six eggs and 2 cans of Ligo sardines. Here's 2 ways to make something new out of this once lowly dish:

Spicy Sardine Omelet (as deliciously prepared by Pierre)

Ingredients:

1 can of red label Ligo Sardines
1 pc onion, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, crushed
1 pc native chili, chopped
3 pcs eggs, beaten
2 pcs tomatoes and whole native chilies.

How to:

1. Heat cooking oil in an omelet pan.
2. Pour the beaten egg evenly on the pan and wait until the top is cooked.
3. Remove the cooked egg from the pan and put on a round dish. Set aside.
4. Saute the garlic, onion and native chili, then add the sardines.
5. Crush and mix the sardines until flaky. Let stand for a few minutes, but do not overcook.
6. Add salt to taste, as desired.
7. Pour about 3/4 of the sardines into the middle of the omelet, then fold both ways before turning on its back.
8. Spread the remaining sardines on top of the omelet and garnish with tomatoes and chilies on the side.
9. Serve warm.

Sardine Omelet Spanish Style

Ingredients:

1 can red label Ligo Sardines
3 eggs, beaten
dash of dried basis leaves
salt

How to:

1. Separate the sardines from the tomato sause. Set aside.
2. Sprinkle a dash of dried basil leaves on the beaten egg. Add salt to taste, then beat again until pluffy.
3. Heat cooking oil in an omelet pan and pour the beaten eggs evenly.
4. When the top part is slightly cooked, put the sardines in the middle to form a line across the pan.
5. Fold the omelet from both sides to form a roll, then turn it on its back.
6. Turn the omelet roll until both sides are golden brown, then remove from pan and put in a serving dish.
7. Pour the tomato sauce on the omelet and serve.

Both dishes are best served with piping hot steamed or fried rice.

Now, you can have your sardines two more ways. Yummy!

Semana Santa in Pateros

2008-03-21T23:19:00.003+08:00

I was not able to see the Wednesday procession this year. Got stuck in office work and came home quite late. When I was growing up, I distinctly remember that there were four processions during Holy Week - the first was on the morning of Palm Sunday; second was on the night of Holy Wednesday; third was on Good Friday; and the last was the dawn procession for Easter Sunday. I miss those days. Sigh!

Palm Sunday Procession

Young girls and their families look forward to this one. Makeshift balconies were set up in selected places in the procession route. Little young girls dressed up like angels threw flower petals and sang the alleluias as the priest passed by their dainty towers. People followed the priest and waved their palm fronds in the air, while the manangs laid their veils on the pavement - never allowing the priest's feet to directly touch the ground. All these were the re-enactment of the biblical narrative on how the Lord triumphantly entered Jerusalem.

I remember one year in particular, when this event was especially more poignant for the family of my mother's elder sister. Her youngest daughter, Amy, just passed away. She was diagnosed with leukemia and bravely fought for her life. She was excitedly looking forward to her eldest daughter's turn to mount one of those balconies and sing praises to the Lord. It was always an honor for a daughter to take on the role of one of the angels, an honor that she missed by a few days. So while her mother lay in state, the little girl did her part - with a faint smile but tears in her eyes. It was a fitting tribute to a mother who loved her children till the very end, and scene that left tears in the eyes of not a few who knew the story behind that day's event.

Sadly, we lost that tradition along the way. I cannot remember when the last alleluias were sung by the little angels. While walking along the town proper, it suddenly dawned on me that the balconies were gone. Gone were the little girls, with their eyes still droopy and sleepy, as they gingerly await the arrival of the priest. How could have we lost such a tradition so steep in meaning and drama? In other towns, bigger and more progressive, they even get the priest to ride horses or donkeys for some added reality. Please tell me this tradition will be back next year!

Holy Wednesday Procession

This procession presents the tableau of the Lord's ministry and suffering, specifically from the time he entered Jerusalem. The life-size saints are presented in their fineries, with the symbols that represent their role in the greatest story ever told. Thus we see St. Peter holding a key and with a rooster beside him; St. Mary Magdalene with a perfume bottle and holding her long hair; St. Veronica with a large handkerchief with three impressions of the face of Jesus; and the beloved disciple St. John holding a book and a quill. Jesus is also portrayed while praying in the garden, while being whipped in the pillar, while carrying the cross or while being crowned with thorns.

In the eighties, this procession was done away with. Instead, I remembered that all the carrozas were made to join the Good Friday procession, which of course swelled the number of people joining the procession. Thus, we had the spectacle of the first carozza already entering the church after navigating the entire procession route while the Mater Dolorosa, the last image in the procession, was still waiting for its turn to leave the church patio! It just does not make sense for a town so small to try and get all those carozzas into the streets. Fortunately, the Church has brought back the Holy Wednesday procession.

Good Friday Procession.

The piety is gone, gone, gone. In the days gone by, a hush would fall on the entire town at three o’clock of Good Friday. Then people flocked at the church for the evening procession, often leaving their shoes and slippers at home or in stores near the church. Yes, people walk the entire route barefoot, just like the many women dressed in black, with faces covered in black veil capped by imitations of the crown of thorns. They carry symbols of the Lord’s passion and death on the cross. Yes, it looks eerie, but it does evoke solemn emotions that befit the commemoration.

These days, we don’t see barefoot people on the procession anymore. Gender equality has allowed men to join the previously all-women group of what we fondly call “mumos” (ghosts), albeit still donning the all black long dresses and veil. I wonder why they can’t wear black shirts and pants instead. They have breached the gender divide anyway, so why not go all the way? They have nailed women on the cross in barrio Cutud in Pampanga, haven’t they?

This year, I also noticed some of the old images have been replaced by newer ones, such as that of Maria Magdalena. I did not see the Wednesday procession, so I do not know if the older image was used in that procession. They say that the number of images in Holy Week processions indicates the wealth of the families in the town. Does that mean that our town economy is actually improving? In other towns, families who have converted to other religions adverse to catholic traditions destroys their centuries old images so that they could no longer be a cause for people to commit the hideous sin of idolatry. Different folks, different strokes!

Easter Sunday Salubong

This dawn procession can be well considered as a good barometer of the town’s economic condition. The early salubongs I remember were simple. The images of the Virgin Mary, now in resplendent white but with the head still covered in black veil, and the Risen Christ starts off in separate ways. One would go around half of the town through Barrio Aguho, and the other one taking the other half through Barrio Tabacalera. They would then meet again at the church patio where a little angel lifted the veil off the Virgin’s head to reveal a tear-less face. The women joined the Virgin’s entourage while the men joined the Risen Christ.

At sometime during the 70’s they made some changes so that the other barrios can be involved. The starting points for both the Virgin and the Risen Christ were rotated among the different barrios. Then later on, even the place were the salubong will take place was also moved from one kapilya to another. Then in the nineties, a grand tradition was started, that of building a grand tableau in the church patio, with each year depicting a chosen theme. The salubong then took on the identity of a grand theater production, complete with lights, sounds and smoke. Each year was different from the last and people actually looked forward to the grand spectacle even if they had to wake up early to see it. The downside is that less people were joining the procession because they wanted to get good positions on the patio to get a better view.

This year, I noticed just a simple wooden stairway leading to a balcony from where I presume the little angel will lift the Virgin’s veil. It is a stark contrast to the grand designs of years past, so times must be really bad these days. Or maybe the organizers had been struck with conscience for spending obscene amounts of money on a one-day affair while many of the parishioners could not even afford to have more that one meal a day.

However we celebrate the Holy Week, I am still glad my little town has somehow managed to retain its many traditions, albeit with some changes here and there. The hopeless optimist in me still dreams of a time when we can go back to the old traditions that has given our town its character, but as progress marches on it has become increasingly difficult to do so. But the memories will leave on, if only to remind the future generations of the faith and piety of their forebears.

Happy Easter to all!

Holy Week reflections

2008-03-21T20:17:00.004+08:00

PRAY that our leaders will find it in their hearts to put first the welfare of the people over and above personal gains. They were elected from among the people, by the people and for the people. They cannot serve and protect the interest of the few only, but rather should ensure that government services are provided to all, and law and justice applied equally and equitably.

REPENT for the things we have done to foster the dark culture of shameless corruption and corrosive apathy towards the problems besetting our town and our nation. Repent for the things we have failed to do to protect and promote honesty, transparency and accountability in our government. Repent for allowing rogue law enforcers and barangay officials who rob us of our rights to unhampered use of public infrastructure for the common good.

BELIEVE that every little step we make, every little voice raised in protest and every little hope shared will make significant impact towards meaningful reforms in our society. Believe that any positive action today is an investment towards a better and brighter tomorrow.

A little voice speaks out.

2008-03-21T19:34:00.006+08:00

I have lived most of my life in the quaint little town of Pateros, in the old province of Rizal, before it became part of Metro Manila. Small as it may be, it is a town steeped in culture, tradition and history. It was an oasis of rustic provincial life right in the midst of a bustling urban metropolis. It has always been with a tinge of bitter-sweet nostalgia that I would reminisce the days when we can still frolic on its flowing river in Aguho, or go on picnics in the vast rice fields of Sta Ana, or be thrilled by the traveling carnival in Dulong-Bayan come fiesta time. I also remember the piousness of Holy Week processions, when we would leave our slippers with Aling Idad’s balut and peanut stand so that we can join the Good Friday procession on barefoot like all the rest. Summers would find us cruising along the roads of the town on our bikes, while Christmas was a good excuse for us to sing our lungs out as we go caroling from house to house.

It is amazing how much our little town has changed in a single generation. Recently, we made it to the front page of the Philippine Daily Inquirer. It would have been a source of pride, if not for the fact that the report was about the police raiding a house right in the center of town for being used as a drug and sex den. It must have been just another sensational headline for citizens that have become immune to such news, but it is in reality another ugly manifestation of the continuing decline and decay of our beloved Pateros. The river is gone, wasted by neglect and apathy of both government and people.

The once pristine and flowing river, site of many joyous fluvial processions of years past, has become a huge garbage dump. On our streets, discipline is now more of the exception than the norm. Both pedestrians and motorists do not follow basic road rules and courtesy. Street, narrow as they already are, are made into private parking spaces and public terminals for jeepneys and tricycles. Sidewalks are lined with rows after rows of illegal stalls. Where else can you see people walking on the streets and competing with precious space against vehicles because the vendors have taken over the sidewalks, even on the bridge itself? If you can drive through Pateros, you can drive anywhere else with ease.

Drug use, and all its attendant vices, is a silent menace that is slowly but surely eating up the very foundation of our society – our youth. That house on Rizal St in Barangay Poblacion may yet turn out to be just the tip of the iceberg. Through the years, how many of the people I know - neighbors, classmates, people I meet on the street, have turned into ghosts of their old selves because of drug abuse? One does not have to look very far to see that the illegal drug trade and use is a problem that is steadily getting out of hand.

Pateros is a proud and noble town. Small as we are, we refused to be subjugated by any of the big cities that surround us. We remain, and shall remain a free and independent municipality. Unfortunately, we seem to have given up on our town. Most old families have left. Those who chose to stay behind seem resigned to helplessly watch as our town continue its fatal descent into the dark abyss. We handed the reins of government to younger leaders in the hope that they will have the willpower and the vigor to implement positive changes. Almost a year after the elections of May 2007, all these remain to be promises.

The 17-year old girl caught in the middle of the drug den raid was just a symptom of the deeper cancer besetting our town – a festering wound that everyone can see but refuse to look at. Not only have we been left behind by all the other cities of Metro Manila, worse, we seemed resigned to our sorry fate. Our government leaders could not, and should not, be left alone to solve our problems. Leaders from the churches, civic organizations, business and industry, education and civil society need to come together and work towards a more lasting resolution to these problems. If our people see that their leaders are working hard to bring back Pateros to its feet, there is no reason for them not to put in their own effort. The people and their leaders must work hand in hand and get their acts together before it becomes too late.

We need true leaders who will lead us out of the dark night that has engulfed of beloved town in darkness for too long. We need leaders who will leave the comfort of their homes and offices, roll up their sleeves and dirty their hands in working to redeem the dignity of our beloved town. We need leaders who can stand up against our mighty neighbor cities in defense of our town’s resources and welfare. We need leaders who can bring back order and discipline in our streets, who can arrest the rapid decline in morality and inspire people to become responsible citizens. We need leaders who can unite families and communities to work towards a common vision. When we see this leadership emerge amidst the decay and chaos, there will be hope that we can still recover from all these and bring back the quaint little town that we all call our home. We need that leadership now more than ever. Are our LEADERS up to the challenge?

Mine is but a little voice of one who still hope that positive and significant change can be achieved in my lifetime, just as I have seen in my lifetime how this beloved town has deteriorated. In the vastness of cyberspace, this little voice will be heard, in the hope that people who love this town may find their own voices as well.

* Special thanks to Elmer Nocheseda for allowing me to use some of his wonderful photos of Pateros in this blog. The collage used in the Title box was made of photos from his collection.