deprived ahay

mongolia is a landlocked country, freezing for a good part of the year.  the mongolian countryside is green only for about four months, during which period farmers are able to plant and harvest wheat, potatoes, a few variety of vegetables (carrots, onions, cabbage, beetroot, garlic). 

GDP growth is heavily concentrated and dependent on mining and livestock.  agriculture figures much less. so does manufacturing of consumer goods such as textile, processed food, etc. we here thrive on imports including seafood, fruits and veggies.

expensive naturellement. a major challenge for pinoys who crave for bagoong, daing and tuyo, ampalaya, hipon, alimango, galunggong, hasa-hasa, tanguigue.  every now and then we get our shrimps or mackerel frozen from korean shops.  

beef, however, is excellent and burgers can be had with thick, juicy patties sans extenders.  these are are usually in the menus of mid and up-scale restaurants. mcdonalds, kfc and the like  havent  found their  way in. perhaps the market is too small, mongolia’s population being only 3 million.  young mongolians and expats, usually tourists, make do with bb burger, a local fast food joint. we’ve been waiting for kenny rogers to open for months, but construction of the restaurant seems to have been halted — economic crunch perhaps. 

last month i brought from seoul some mcdo cheeseburgers.  several pinoy friends who were at the airport shrieked with delight.  they haven’t had this junk for soo very long.  jollibee might just have brought the same degree of “appreciation” or perhaps more. ahay ….

cruising through time at himogaan river

mr espina the writer here gives us a peek to the kind of stories that i loved to listen as a child, especially when relatives and our parents’ childhood friends came to visit.

i’d sit, quiet as a mouse,  beside nanay inday felicing or either of our parents,  creating the images that their stories evoked.  i had to be still and behave, tho i was itching to ask a gazillion questions - because then children were meant to be seen but not heard - else be shooed away. rather too, be “strongly encouraged” to sing or dance, recite a poem or declaim while parents beam with pride. hah! 

it won’t be long when all our elders will be gone.  as it is, like it or not,  my generation is almost there or perhaps already there — becoming the “elders”  ourselves.   its up to us to keep their tales and memories alive so as to keep the bonds  through time and through generations. 

From the Center
with Rolly Espina

OPINIONS [The Visayan Daily Star]

Memories of bygone days

Saturday’s Himogaan River Cruise was both enlightening and nostalgic. While it brought memories of bygone days, it also showed me and brother, Bert plus spouse, Edith, that the topography has changed.

Familiar landmarks to Sagay City Mayor Alfredo Marañon Jr. and Councilor Beethoven Fuentesfina had mostly disappeared. They were now replaced by houses and other changes in subdivision living.

The start of the Himogaan River cruise was at the former shipyard of the Japanese Imperial Forces. That has disappeared, the place had been silted and the old forestry bureau building which used to house the “Imbais” is no longer there. Hardly a trace of its remains.

I suddenly realized that today’s young generation have lost the meaning of words we (our generation) had so easily bandied about.

For example, “Imbai” was the term used to describe the sex slaves of the Japanese who were housed in that forestry building. We were living just about 200 yards from them and could hear the brutal treatment of the girls by their Japanese clients and their screams.

But Wilton Roxas, Visamin Ledesma, Nong Manual Roxas, Ned Orleans and my younger brother Dodge managed to befriend the “Imbais” who often played softball with us, using balls enclosed in silk pumps.

Freddie Marañon and Beethoven, who used to stay in “Takas”, the former name of the Japanese barracks, recalled how the Japanese workers of the Insular Lumber Company used to build wooden boats like batels.

These were used to ship out lumber from the ILCO stockyard to the Sagay “bocana” mouth of the Himogaan where they were loaded on board ocean-going vessels. The same with the Lopez Sugar Central sugar bags which were taken up by inter-island barges.

One thing we noticed, though, the river is much clearer now. “Local residents have apparently become more conscious of solid waste management,” commented Mayor Marañon.

As we drifted down the Himogaan, we saw the silting of channels which used to be deep. The former log pond has expanded to Uko, across the river to Paraiso. And the place can now be forded across by foot. This was the place where an alert classmate in Grade three rescued me from drowning after I had sank twice.

My brother, Bert, also recalled that the Japanese had set up a floating bridge across the river from the site of the Japanese shipyard. We both reminisced having seen the hardy Japanese swimmers braving the floods as they dragged the empty drums across to serve as floater for the wooden bridge the Japanese put up later.

We all searched for the “pantalan,” the ILCO wharf. It has disappeared. And from its previous site, Beethoven and Mayor Marañon pointed out to us “Takas.”

We saw the effort by the Lopez Sugar central to shield its baggase stocks from sliding down into the river. Later, we glided our way downstream. We passed by Hda. Maria and Hda. San Agustin. This latter was the place where Papa brought our family for evacuation. This was the place where I first met Maj. Morga and Capt. Cafe, bosom friends of my father. And Maj. Morga handed Papa his first gun, a .45 caliber grease gun.

We drove downstream. Then we saw other familiar places like Tubli, Himogaan, and others.

We were especially thrilled at the sight of an island, built by accretion and now planted to mangroves. It has been declared by Sagay a bird sanctuary. And we saw a Kingfisher and lot of other hitherto “lost” bird species which we had not espied for a long time, swooping down the bird sanctuary.

This was one trip where Mayor Marañon, Councilor Fuentesfina, Bert and myself took turns retelling the history of Fabrica and how it once was the world’s biggest hardwood lumber mill.

And we told him so big were the logs brought down from the mountains of northern Negros, one was often enough for a railroad car to bring down.

John van der Zandern and Marion van de Wetering were told about the Fabrica that was before World War II and until after the liberation.

Both were astonished at how accretion built the Carabao island where carabaos are now grazing in the middle of the river.

We decided to land at the rest house of Mayor Marañon fronting the Guimaras Strait. That meant that we had to wade up to our knees. Still, there were no complaints. Somebody commented we could develop rheumatism since we had wet our lower extremities.

It just reminds the younger generation that the old folks believe that “salt water” does not provoke rheumatism.

Before finally recalling our visit and other projects of Marañon, I sat stock still and recalled the stories of the past when we stayed at the residence of the late Tio Ano just beside the Sagay Church, across that, incidentally, was the elementary school which the Japanese used as their garrison.*

hail to the filipina migrant workers

this would have been posted a couple of days back but for a glitch in i dot ph, that somehow i could not access.  needless to say, we are still in the “women’s ” month and it is never too late to put in a piece to salute the ka-womenan — they who hold half of the world on their beautiful yet weary and oftentimes tortured shoulders.

in the last eight years or so my work centered on gender and development,  violence against women, human trafficking and migration.  its more than work and livelihood. 

it is passion and commitment hammered and stoked each time i visit a shelter for abused women, each time i hold the gnarled hand of an elderly lady on whom depend her two grandsons orphaned by HIV/AIDs, every bonding moment  with the girls at the womyns agenda for change with their inspiring brand of activism and enthusiasm to advance the rights of sex and garment workers in cambodia, each time i dance and prance with the trannies in the wac boat,  share a meal of monggo and fried fish with domestic workers from sagay in hongkong,  organize the alphabet week ends with the pinoy community in mongolia, celebrate life’s blessings and challenges with the house of joy.  

i am and have been a privileged migrant worker.  there are those who are less fortunate.  privileged or not, leaving home, kith and kin is never easy …. for most with dire consequences for the family, sometimes rendering irreparable damage to the social fabric.  yet, sacrifices are made. 

with acknowledgement and admiration, i hail the filipina migrant workers.  and all migrant workers for that matter…

To all those who journey from their homes to find a future, with dreams in their eyes, fear and excitement in their minds at what awaits, and pain in their hearts at leaving loved ones behind, often very young loved ones. 

Many of them, indeed many of us, reach our destinations with relatively few mishaps, hurdles or detours.

For many others unfortunately, the journey leads to destinations and landscapes unsafe, unimagined and undesired.  for some, the journey is arduously endless and the terrain consistently hostile. 

It is especially to these migrant women who are in harm’s way…. (that we pay) tribute to their courage and endurance, and to their indefatigable spirit to prevail against all odds, in quest of a better future.  Some may call these women trafficked, and sometimes we do too. 

But often the poetry of departures rendered through notes of optimism, joy and pain, leads us to the traveler whose journey has not yet ended, had not yet led her to the destination she sought. 

Then the only enlightenment that can dawn on any well meaning  entity is: what can we do to remove the hurdles and ease the way for this person, this trafficked migrant woman, in order for her to reach her destination and goal safely.

 (Collateral Damage.  GAATW report on Trafficking in Persons. 2007)

dinky’s take on obama and the promise of change

reprinted below with permission was dinky juliano-soliman’s reflection on obama’s ascendance to the presidency of the united states of america.  dinky –  former secretary of social welfare in the arroyo government,  a stalwart of the philippine civil society movement.  

Desperately Seeking An Obama but Missing Obama’s Message

Wednesday, January 28, 2009 at 5:33pm

January 20, 2009 Barack Obama was sworn in as the 44th president of the USA…it signaled hope and change in America…..January 20, 2001 Gloria Macapagal Arroyo was sworn in as President of the Philippines riding the on the hopes of a people for a leadership that will practice good governance.

Today, January 20, 2009, we Filipinos are seeking an Obama of the Philippines. We are sick and tired of the corruption that confronts us every day and the cover ups that this administration is doing. We complain about the abuse of power that GMA and her cohorts exercise as they slowly slaughter the institutions of democracy in the country. We are frustrated with the opposition because most of them have not demonstrated that they are different from the current administration. – in their practice of politics.

We are looking for an Obama who will be opposite to the current leadership in Malacanang. Thus a person who stands up for truth and does not buckle down to bribery becomes a candidate for the highest authority of the land. A leader who performs well in his mandated function and conducts himself with integrity gets drafted by a host of people to run for presidency. There were even suggestions that a sports champion can be a legislator or a local chief executive because he unites the country every time he wins in his game.

In our desperation, we are missing the essence of the message of Obama.

It is not one leader; as Obama says …” it is not about me, it is about us…” …” it is the victory of the American people”…..it is pulling out from the depths of our collective consciousness the values that had withstood the test of times- crisis, calm and celebration. In his inaugural speech he invoked …” hope and virtue”… which the founding father of the USA had called on all citizens to hold on to and move forward.

Obama read the people’s wishes and aspirations. He saw the willingness and desire of the people to effect change; he touched on that social energy and the people acted, got involved and made the change. Thus the repeated message of Obama is - the people made the change and the people will remake America.

So we the people of the Philippines have to demonstrate that we are ready and willing to make the change happen; that we know what is right and wrong; we know truth from lies and we know freedom and democracy. We have to tell each other, show each other that we are willing to invest to make the change; take risks to correct the wrong and stand up against corrupt politicians. We have to take back politics from the hands of people who betray the trust of the people and make politics sacred again- a sacred covenant between leaders and constituencies. We the people, cede part of our power to people we elect, thus if they do not act in behalf of the common good we should take back the power we ceded to them.

When we act in our numbers and insist… persist …for truth and justice, transparent and honest governance at the local and national level….the Obamas of the Philippines will emerge. There will be leaders who will demonstrate servant leadership; there will be leaders who will facilitate processes that will forge unity; there will be leaders who will be bold and daring to innovate with the people in crafting solutions to systemic problems; there will be leaders who will account to the people their governance practice.

This is what Obama was referring to as “the promise of citizenship…” We the people have to talk with each other collectively act and organize a force that will change our politics and set our democracy right again.
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pride and growth

many of us ARE fiercely proud to be pinoys. we know what and how much we are worth, recognised and valued or not by some compatriots and others.   

this pride feeds our resilience and resolve.  it keeps us going despite and inspite the harsh realities that we face daily, whether at home or abroad. . 

so what if the Philippine economy did not do as badly  as Spain, Singapore or Japan under the current crisis?  we have been registering positive economic growth for years.  bottomline :  did that translate  into a better life for the street hawkers  in quiapo, the sacadas in negros, the garlic growers in the north?  

economic growth, unless equitable and with visible positive  impact on ordinary people’s lives, doesnt mean anything for the poor who have to “prostitute” themselves to survive.