MANGKOKOLUM!

THIS snatch of private conversation between a putative official of the Commission on Elections and an anxious Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo in June 2004, this dialogue explains itself: “Okay ma’am mas mataas ho siya pero magcompensate po sa Lanao ‘yan.” GMA: So I will still lead by more than one M overall? “More or less but it is still an advantage ma’am. Parang ganun din ang lalabas.” GMA: Oo pero it will not be less than one M? “Pipilitin ho natin ‘yan. Pero as of the other day, 982.” GMA: Kaya nga eh. “And then if we can get more in Lanao.” GMA: Hindi pa ba tapos? The chit-chat starts off with an innocuous remark that someone is taller (mas mataas) than the petite incumbent. But it’s not about growing taller she’s interested in. GMA insists she will lead and the lead will not be less than one million. The chivvied official parries and lets out the tell-tale “Pipilitin ho natin ‘yan”—we’ll do what we can, “if we can get more in Lanao.” There’s indeed something...

FINDING himself in a house full of toys, one child infected with a terminal case of pessimism dragged himself into a corner, sulked, and let out a bellyache: “I can’t play with any of these, one or two will break sooner or later and I’ll feel rotten!” Another kid oozing with optimism was locked in a stable full of horse manure—and he screamed with delight, “With all this shit, there ought to be a pony hidden somewhere here. It’ll be fun finding and riding it out of here!” We’re probably up to our necks in dung these days. But nobody has taken the pains to seek out the pony, cow, horse, mule, sheep, goat or any such dung layer to ride off and have fun. There ought to be people who’ll feed the stacks of manure into a sealed tank, turn out loads of natural gas to fuel cooking stoves, turbines, and automotive engines. There should be people brimming with a sense of humus—they’ll spread shit on impoverished soil then grow lush roses and nutrient-rich vegetables on that compost-enr...

MGA tatlo sa bawat limang pamilyang Pinoy ang umamin na naghihirap sila—at 2 milyong pamilya ang sumasablay na sa pagkain nitong nakalipas na tatlong buwan, ayon sa ulat kamakailan ng Social Weather Stations. Baka higit pa sa mga nailabas ng SWS ang bilang ng may umaalulong na sikmura sa bansa. Batay sa mga umiral na presyo sa taong 2000, iniulat ng Food and Nutrition Research Institute (FNRI) na kailangang gumugol ng P21 halaga ng pagkain ang isang Pinoy para makatawid-gutom araw-araw. Katumbas ng ganoong halaga ang tatlong pakete ng instant noodles na pumalit sa kanin at isda bilang pambansang pagkain. Pinansin ng FNRI na nitong 2000, 21.2% -- halos isa sa bawat 5 Pinoy—ang hindi makapagpaluwal ng P21 araw-araw para maampat ang hagulgol ng kani-kanilang sikmura. Higit na mababa ang antas na naiulat ng SWS, 8.8% lang ng populasyon ang pilipit na sa gutom. Huwag nang ungkatin pa ang pagkakaiba sa mga naiulat na antas—sanhi ng tinatawag na kahihiyan, tahasang hindi mapapaamin ang ...

PEBRERO 2003. Matindi ang mga kasabay ng dinireheng dula ng anak kong babae. Topak ng isang bayani ang isa, mapapanood sa CCP. Kabaklaan ang isa pa- ilalabas ng PETA. Nagbungkal ang anak sa mga dahon ng gulanit na aklat ng mga kuwentong bayan. Hiniling na isulat ko siya ng dula. Dulang pambata. Kasi, pawang laan sa mga gurang at de-edad ang mapapanood ngayon. Maglaan naman daw kami sa mga bata. Paslit pa siya nang iregalo ang aklat na iyon sa kanilang magkakapatid. Apat sila. Iningatan ng anak na babae ang aklat. Iningatan sa kung ilan ding yugto ng lipat-bahay. Kasama iyon ng mga nakalibrong komiks ng pakikipagsapalaran nina Tintin, Spiderman, Wolverine, Batman... mga tauhang isiniwalat nina Hans Christian Andersen, Brothers Grimm at Mother Goose. Ah, masinop ang anak kong babae. Kaisa-isang anak na babae. Santaon lang yata siya nang ipinagsasama sa ilang sukal na bahagi ng UP Diliman, weekends. Manunugis ng paru-paro't tutubi. Mamumupol ng kadena de amor at kalug-kal...

UHUGIN pa ‘ko nang makapanood ng arakyo sa hulo ng Pambuan, Gapan (lunsod na ngayon) sa Nueva Ecija. Anyong moro-moro ang naturang palabas. Pinagsanib na sayaw-tula-dula. Kung ilang gabing itatanghal kasabay ng pabasa tuwing kuwaresma. Paborito kong bahagi ng arakyo ang mga tagpong eskrimahan. Sa talim ng espada dadaanin ang argumento -- duwelong Kristiano’t Moro. Kristiano ang nagsadula. Kaya talo lagi ang Moro. Naakit ako sa masining na palitan ng ulos. Lalo na sa napakatipid na kilos sa sagupaan. May lantik at lintik na iginuguhit ang katawan ng naglalaban sa tanghalan. Matapos ang umagang klase sa UE Secondary Training Department (Manila), maraming okasyong sagsag sa Ongpin ang tropang tadtad-tigidig sa mukha. Pipila sa takilya ng tanghalang Dragon. Dinadayo ng kalalakihan ang palabas doon. Susundin ang isang sawikain – “Ang hindi lumingon sa pinanggalingan, tiyak na kulang sa kalibugan.” Huling taon ng dekada 1960 nang masumpungan sa isang kalyehon sa Ongpin ang...

DESTINY—that which we know as tadhana , it stems from habit. Just a matter of habit, maybe rigorous discipline… Tadhana is a prettified ukay-ukay version of the Sanskrit term, sadhana —it’s a daily regimen of Buddhist monks that entails a combination of mind-stretching, back-wracking work with some earnest prayers and contemplation of sacred texts thrown in. Such boils down to a difficult-to-ditch habit acquired over a lengthy period of time. Sadhana seeks inner unity with the divine-- or to cause godly traits and qualities to inhabit the man who’s into sadhana , or those blokes called siddhi . (Hey, sidhi is all-out intensity in Tagalog—say, masidhing kalibugan -- and the Star Wars pop mythos called ‘em Darth Maul and Darth Vader as Sith… Shit!) There’s that “habit” word again in “in-habit”—sticks out like a sore thumb. Are you still with me? “With our thoughts we shape our habitat,” goes a Buddhist adage. This is going too far--there’s “habit” again in “habitat.” Habi...

I got this one from Carmelite Sisters from whose school three of my kids were graduated from. They have this snatch of a song that packs a fusion metal and liebeslaud beat and whose lyrics go like this: "Every single cell of my body is happy. Every single cell of my body is well. I thank you, Lord. I feel so good. Every single cell of my body is well." Biology-sharp nerds would readily agree with me in this digression... Over their lifetimes, cells are assaulted by a host of biological insults and injuries. The cells go through such ordeals as infection, trauma, extremes of temperature, exposure to toxins in the environment, and damage from metabolic processes-- this last item is often self-inflicted and includes a merry motley medley of smoking a deck a day of Philip Morris menthols, drinking currant-flavored vodka or suds, overindulgence in red meat or the choicest fat-marbled cuts of poultry and such carcass. When the damage gets to a certain point, cells self-de...

KATAGANG ugat na Sanskrit ang pinagmulan ng salitang “karma” – mula sa kri o “gumawa.” Sa katuturan ng karma mas mauunawa: matimbang pa rin at higit na tumataga ang gawa kaysa ngawa. Nag-iiwan ng malalim na gatla sa karakter ng pagkatao ang gawain. Sa gawaing sinimulan, matutukoy ang naghihintay na kapalaran. Matitiyak pati ang kinabukasang patutunguhan. Nahuhubog sa pinagsama-samang gawain ng mga mamamayan ang karma ng bansa. May pambihirang lakas ang sama-samang gawa. Pumapanday sa kasaysayan. Nagtatakda sa kahihinatnan ng sambayanan, pati ng mga susunod na salinlahi. Tiyak ang bunga ng bawat gawa: masasabing tatlong ibon ang sapol sa iisang pukol. Bawat ginawa -- mabuti man o masagwa -- tatlong bukol ang nakatakdang gantimpala. Tatlong isda ang huli sa lambat ng bawat gawa. Una: Kung ano ang ipinunla, iyon ang matatamasa. Magtanim ng masamang hangin, utot ang aanihin, mwa-ha-ha-haw! Ikalawa: Iginagapos ng isinagawa ang ulirat (kamalayan o consciousness) sa walang ...

PAMBIHIRA na ngayon ang makasumpong ng ayungin o lukaok ( Therapon plumbeus ) sa palengke. Pambihira--kapag nakatagpo ng ayungin para na ring nakatagpo ng matino’t matuwid na tao na nakaluklok sa gobyerno. Nagmula man sa tubig na tabang, tabsing, o alat, bihira nang makahagilap ng ayungin o silver perch. Palatandaan kasi ang malinamnam na isda na tahasang malinis, halos dalisay ang tubig na pinagmulan nito. Kakayanin ng dalag, tilapia, talandi, biya, gurami, bangus at hito na mabuhay sa maruming tubig—na dagliang lilipol sa kawawang ayungin. Saan bang lupalop ng bansa meron pang lubluban ng tubig na nakaligtas o nakaiwas sa polusyon at pagsalaula? Pintor-manlililok na Manuel D. Baldemor ang nag-alok sa akin ng ayungin. Hindi talaga ayungin. Anyo na lang ng ayungin ang inialok. Sabi nga’y visual food for thought . Binitad o nakatuhog na tila mga talulot ng bulaklak sa tuhugang tilad na kawayan. Masining na nakabukadkad sa bilao, nakasalampak na anyo sa papel. Hindi na mapapatakam...

We are scared. Some facts can be scary. Some facts call horrors out of dark grounds. We try to bury horrors. But they cannot be buried. They spill out like intestines, raw and maggot-infested. Now join us. Fill in your lungs with stink of decay. Open your eyes. Open them wide-- wide as the spread-out thighs of the Darna in your dreams. Into your eyes allow a stab of putrid flesh and bone. With one’s sight bled out, the horrors of facts can be less painful. The facts can sink into one’s systems like a wash of embalming fluids. In a gaggle of 100 senior high school students in public schools, nearly two have a grasp of science. (Those hapless two won’t stick out like sore thumbs. They’ll be lost in that vast sea of humanity less-inclined to science.) About 7 of every 100 have a grasp of English. (Poor seven dudes-- they won’t and can’t be understood by the rest.) Around 3 of every 100 got a firm grip on social studies—the so-called araling panlipunan. The rest are likely clueless and wou...

“A low 0.002 percent of senior high school students had mastery of Filipino.” --Department of Education PAYAK na pamantayan ang inilapat namin. Para sa mga lahok sa isang pambansang timpalak-panitik nitong nakaraang taon. Basta matino lang ang pagbuo ng pangungusap. Ganoon lang. Hindi na naghangad na biglang masambilat sa bayag o kipay, mahagod na malamyos o malamutak sa dibdib. O biglang makaldag sa sikmura. Kahit makiliti sa singit o makalaykay-halukay ang likaw ng isaw o iglap na matahip ang isip. Walang nasumpungang ganoong pamamaraan.. Panay sablay. Pulos nagkahindot-hindot. Talagang hilahod bawat lumahok sa pagbuo ng tumpak na pangungusap. Mahirap paniwalaan pero totoo ang masisipat sa bawat natunghayang kuwento: barukbok sa English, busalsal naman sa Pilipino. Paano sila makapagsisiwalat ng kuwenta sa kuwento? Kapansin-pansin na pinulot ng mga lahok ang diskarte sa pananalita mula radio. May mga ginagad mula telebisyon. Gumaya rin sa tabloid. Pero pulos pila...

Oil pricing remains a mystery IT’S off the mark every time — the figures guessed at by consumer groups don’t ever tally with the numbers tabbed by oil players at the gas pumps, whether the price adjustment soars up or, by some major miracle, it goes down. Thus, fuel pricing remains a mystery to all of us. Taciturn executives of oil firms have been haled to congressional hearings over the past years to throw light on this mystery. Like gamblers out to out-hustle lawmakers, those oil fat cats hemmed and hawed while keeping their cards close to their chest. So to this day, the public remains in the dark as to how oil firms unleash pump figures that often cause commodity price spirals and shattered household budgets. Transparency isn’t exactly a trait of oil companies, whether they’re upstarts or grizzled giants in the playing field. We need not be told: oil players do not want consumers to know the arithmetic of oil pricing. For its silent partner part in this crime of so...

MABABA pa ang antigong bakod ng Malacañang nang dumalaw sa Pilipinas si then-incumbent US President Richard M. Nixon—at kabilang ako sa ilang daang musmos na sumalubong sa kanya, nagwawagayway ng inyong bandila sa harap ng Freedom Park, nasa isang panig iyon ng J.P. Laurel Avenue sa harapan ng Palasyo. The Palace resident treated Nixon to a taste of basi, a suave brew from native sugar cane juice aged for 13 Fridays, sieved through silk and whipped out like a warm embrace for an honored guest. Basi has kindled one of our nation’s initial uprisings against Spain—the colonial overseers wanted every drop of sugar cane grown in the country’s northern parts churned up as sugar for European tables and basi lovers balked at the bleak prospects of letting go of kindred spirits in a Spanish version of 17th century prohibition period. For want of a drink, the Basi Revolt broke out. Such historical tidbit can show how much basi is cherished in these parts. Served chilled in goblets o...

Death of a newspaper BACK in the 1990s when P26.50 equaled a dollar, this publisher of a movie magazine was clearing a neat P40,000 a week. It didn’t take him three years to buy himself a printing press plus the land it’s housed on, a few hectares of farmlands and two or three sweet young things to plug into—he plied out two more of such reading fare. He admits his product is a trashy no-brainer. Admittedly, trash sells like proverbial hotcakes. He was quick to add that he wanted a put out a decent paper, something that wouldn’t pull wool over the eyes of the star-struck and dumb-struck. He also conceded that the readership for a decent paper for the low-income groups isn’t broad enough— it would be financial suicide to put out a paper like that. So think about it. Either dwindling readership or acute lack of advertising placements finally killed the Pangasinan-based Sun*Star Dagupan. There’s no touch of irony: the paper’s death came after Dagupan City trotted out a long, ...

IT dawns on me now there’s more to nilupak than meets a naïve city slicker’s eye. Let us recall a recipe. Prize firm semi-ripe saba bananas, most of ‘em dark green with hardly any hint of yellow sheen on their skin— stuffed full of starch with fruity sweetness about to begin. Pounded to a creamy smoothness, semi-ripe saba would have the consistency of corn meal or whole wheat flour. Saba bananas of such sort are boiled, peeled, cut up in chunks, plunked into an aching maw-hole of a mortar hewn out of a tamarind tree trunk. Ah, tamarind tree boles often turn up into such farm household items as mortar or chopping board—the fine-grained tough wood often ages into a honeyed dull cream color. Tamarind wood doesn’t impart either tartness or sour-sweetness of its sap to any item of food worked upon its honey-smooth surface. Besides, tamarind— salumagi, sampalok, ampil -- throbs with, as wizened rustics have it, a nurturing love. Palpate for such sort of love with a fond gaze on...

ALLOW us to offer a truckload of thanks and tons of commiseration for one Journal Online reader— griped how she felt bad about a local TV teen-age couple after giggling pubescent male stole a snapshot at nubile female with mobile phone camera showing her taking a shower, rinsing her flower, and yelping at the naughty intrusion. Reader also volunteered information that the audio-video sequence is being circulated in this neck of the woods. Probably that’s prima facie evidence of whatever sex scandal or show-and-tell value people can wrung off from that revealing footage. With a view on the current water shortage that bedevils the metropolis, we can only hazard a guess this young couple set an example to audiences on an ingenious way to save water. It’s likely they took a shower together. They probably stumbled on a more innovative water saving scheme: young couple just exchanged bodily fluids. We’re probably growing old such that the normal 20-20 vision we once had is being wh...

WE LIVE in interesting times. These are times in which popularity is conveniently construed as reliable measure of human worth. The trenchant mind-set is going with the flow, not exactly standing one’s ground. So nearly everyone strives to cozy up to, maybe please the crowds to gain their approval to hoist up one’s approval ratings by a few rungs. A drop in one’s approval ratings owing to a not-exactly perfect perception of a whimsical, ever-griping populace, that’s deemed as disaster or stigma on one’s person. Lose rapport with those yammering hordes? That’s seen as blight on one’s capacity to lead. So the current leadership isn’t exactly likeable and most of the led including the misled are in furor at everything that gets their goat—runaway increases in costs of fuel, water, and electricity; racked up cost of education; unabated graft and corrupt practices in government; chaotic traffic and idiotic television viewing fare… The litany of woes could go on and on. As if it we...

CARABAO Beach ang tawag ng mga paslit sa malaking ukab ng lupa - likas na rainwater catchment basin. Lawa sa buhos-unos mula Mayo hanggang Disyembre. Tapunan ng bangkay aso-pusa-manok-daga. Pistahan ng uod at langaw. Pagkaing panis doon din ihahagis. Pamansingan ng dalag, hito't tilapia. Pamantasan ng kuhol at susong amakan. Nasasagapan ng hipong tagunton. Kangkungan. Libliban ng digman. Lubluban ng kalabaw. Lubluban din ng mga musmos. Hindi nandidiri ang kawalang-malay sa samut-saring mikrobyo at mumunting organismo - pati lisaw ng kiti-kiti't linta, daphnia, punla ng mga tutubi't palaka -- na kahalubilo sa masayang lublob-lunoy sa Carabao Beach. Nasa isang gilid iyon ng Palmera Springs, isang middle-class subdivision sa Camarin, North Caloocan City. Mayumi ang dagundong-tibok ng buhay sa Carabao Beach. Kasaliw ng kantiyaw-iyak-tawa-hiyaw ng mga paslit. Sa tampisawang iyon, yakap na nagsasaya't sayaw ang mga mikroorganismo't makroorganis...