The awaited daughter has arrived

The family was starting its day

The dying’s burial concerns have been communicated

A good time for death to come

 

And it did

Death like a visitor

Came on a sunny morning

 

Unexpected yet expected

 

Swift yet slow

Painful yet sweet

Dreaded yet prayed for

 

One wishes to have done something more

But knows nothing more can be done

One wishes not to cry so much

But still does

One wishes it is not happening

But knows in his heart and mind it is

             –Quezon City / 23 February 2007 / 3:40 pm

 

How do I describe the man who just died?

 

His family were by his side

When he breathed his last

His widow wailed and his orphans cried

His relatives prayed and his friends grieved

His young grandchild was outside playing all the while

 

His neighbors streamed in

Through the kitchen door they came

The womenfolk swept the yard

And found where the pots and pans were kept

The neighborhood barber gave him a bath

A shave and clipped his nose hairs

The menfolk gathered bamboo poles and put up tents

The man who lived at the edge of the barrio

Donated firewood to boil coffee and cook food

The village chief gave a sack full of rice

His young grandchild was outside playing all the while

 

Phones rang and his relatives said

“Wait for us please.  We’ll be there soon to see Nobling”

For six days and nights the house filled

Mourners spilled out into the streets

Both the boisterous and the infirm

Came to pay their last respects

To the man who just died

Many strangers arrived to offer prayers

They have heard of the man who served them well

The village’s gay person adorned his coffin with flowers

While the drunkard remained sober.

Outside his young grandchild kept playing

 

It seemed the entire town came

When we buried the man who died

The church singer sang his favorite tune

While his younger brother gave him a salute

His young grandchild kept looking around

Wondering why everyone was crying

And when will his grandfather wake up

From his long sleep

 

                                -- Quezon City / 23 February 2007 / 4:21 pm

 

The awaited daughter has arrived

The family was starting its day

The dying’s burial concerns have been communicated

A good time for death to come

 

And it did

Death like a visitor

Came on a sunny morning

  

Unexpected yet expected

Swift yet slow

Painful yet sweet

Dreaded yet prayed for

  

One wishes to have done something more

But knows nothing more can be done

One wishes not to cry so much

But still does

One wishes it is not happening

But knows in his heart and mind it is

             –Quezon City / 23 February 2007 / 3:40 pm

 

I only see you cry when angry

But your tears today were of love

 

Your eyes welling with tears

and your chest heaving with grief

you wielded syringes, tubes and pumps

you read blood pressures and timed drips

you drew phlegm out and massaged limp limbs

like a virtuoso

 

How you must anger death by now

How many times have you snatched Papa from it

as we did nothing but cry, watch and pray?

 

But there is some joy in my tears

As I watched my sister, the nurse

the tearful virtuoso

frustrating death

                   –San Pablo, Isabela / 8 February 2007 / 4:28 a.m.

 

We struggle for death

not to be so quick

and painful

 

Death is not an enemy

It can sometimes be a friend

 

We want death to come

when it’s calm

when loves have been assured

when gratitudes have been declared

when goodbyes have been said

when it’s most needed

and prayed for

 

Like a friend

 

                       –San Pablo, Isabela

                         8 February 2007

                         3:50 a.m.

 

Metro Manila has become unbelievably huge and swamped with malls.  But however big it has become and how many would claim to be its new center, there remains to be one and only downtown—Quiapo.

            I hated tagging along my mom whenever she made her regular trips to Quiapo.  It was a crowded, hot, chaotic and filthy place.  (Still is.)  I could never imagine it as the country’s best shopping destination once, complete with the first airconditioned department stores and cinemas.

            But I’ve grown to love Quiapo these past years.

            It all started when I was given my first SLR camera by my Uncle Ben.  And when one talks of cameras there is only one place to go—Hidalgo street.  At first, I went there to have my black and white pictures developed.  The best professional film developers are there.  And because my first camera was a Petri, Hidalgo was the only place where they could clean and repair it or where I could buy accessories.  I even have a buddy-camera technician in Quiapo.

          I’ve had a succession of cameras after my first—especially after it got dunked several times on Sinundungan River on a human rights fact-finding mission.  I had Yashicas because of two things: they’re cheap and are compatible with Carl Zeiss lenses.  While my camera bodies may be crappy, my lenses were top grade.  I even influenced Gilbert Mendoza, Erel Cabatbat and Angel Tesorero into becoming Quiapo denizens.  Hidalgo was also where I wold buy lots of second hand camera magazines.  Ten pesos each!

            Then there is Raon.  I can no longer remember all the things I bought from there. My wife and I even bought a juicer there once.  If I am in need of any electrical appliance, Raon comes to mind first. 

            When I need eyeglasses, I go to Paterno.  I buy new ones there or have my old ones fixed.  I used to buy sunglasses on this street behind the Catholic church but the Muslims around the Golden Mosque now sell them for 35 pops a pair.  Saan pa ako?

            And, of course, Quiapo is the pirated CD (audio CD, VCD, and DVD) capital of the universe.  I once brought two Ilonggo barangay chairpersons there to buy karaoke CDs.  They were so afraid of the Muslims they hardly spoke and looked at the merchandise.  Funny.

            Since my sister in law converted to Islamism, Quiapo is also where I would buy her and her family halal meat.  Chicken, beef and veal are sold in a Pakistani-owned shop there.  For haram eating carnivores, there’s Excellente Ham store near the Quinta Market.

            My wife frequents the bead shops on the street connecting Quinta and Plaza Miranda.

            Last month, I was introduced to Mojd Halal restaurant.  Their rottiserrie chicken is to die for.  It’s Mindanaon-Middle Easter fusion.  It’s spicy but the lemon grass tang is strong. 

            Do not expect much from this restaurant on the looks department.  It is always teeming with people; it is a hole in the wall.  It’s got creaky ceiling fans and I dared not use its bathroom.  It’s located very near the mosque and the DVD shops.

            For the second time, I had lunch at Mojd Halal today.  I was actually invited to a free lunch at Barbara’s inside The Orchidarium at Rizal Park and I would have loved to park my buns on its antique chairs.  But my mind was set on eating at Mojd Halal since morning, I refused.

            I ordered a chicken quarter and the Mojd Halal rice—red and spicy.  I also ordered a vegetable salad and a soda.

            Driving back to Quezon City, my mouth is still assaulted with the richness of flavors.  And having had two hefty servings of rice, I felt sleepy.

            I think I am becoming like my mother.  I now love the crowded, hot, chaotic and dirty downtown.  Try visiting it once in a while.  I am sure you will find some things to love in Quiapo.

= = = =

1-28-2007

 

I once wrote about Justice Romeo Capulong as one of my favorite lawyers. (Ka-Blog! April 2006) I also remember writing I was not really close to him; I just admired him from afar. Serving him coffee or bringing him papers while I was NDF-JS PIO do not count, do they?

     Today, I finally got to know him up close. We are making a tribute video documentary about him and we spent some hours with him and his family.

     He and his partner welcomed us into a humble house they are staying at present. I noticed the many antique furniture inside the house they obviously like to collect. This was confirmed when we were taken to their real home. The house is nowhere near as big as one would be excused to assume a top notch lawyer like Ka Romy would own. But therein are many furniture (mostly second-hand and acquired cheap) that are as beautiful and tasteful as those that could be seen in a palace. (Atty. Capulong had to leave his house because of threats against his life by gloria’s dogs of war.) Molave, apitong, narra, yakal—name all treasured Philippine hardwoods, Ka Romy and wife have them as cabinets, chairs, floors and chests. How I wish we both had time to talk about all of them but we had a video to produce.

     This day is one of the most enjoyable times I have spent with a real celebrity. He took us where he does his morning walks. He prepared us capuccino. He instructed us on his health regimen, including the benefits of drinking wild yellow ginger tea. There is so much to this man than just being the best human rights lawyer this country ever had.

      Two things I like most about being with Ka Romy today.

     For breakfast, the couple took us to the nearest wet market where they do their regular shopping. He said the market is where he feels most acutely the people’s pulse. The market is where he can easily belie the government’s rosy economic forecasts. Atty. Capulong treated us to goto or rice gruel (ten pesos) and lumpia or deep fried veggie wrap (five pesos each). His easy repartee with their suki carinderia, suki fish vendor, suki vegetable vendor and the jueteng kobrador or collector (not suki) say so much about Ka Romy’s humility. They all consider him their friend though they often see him on TV. “Lagi naming napapanood si sir. Sikat na, mabait pa!” they said.

     We talked about Ka Romy’s roots extensively. A shared tenant farmer’s son, he narrated his humble beginnings. But he is aware of his family’s noble history. “Muslim kami, galing sa Tondo. Ninuno namin si Lakan Dula.” (Lakan is a Tagalog and Pampango word for “king.”)

     As my personal tribute to Ka Romy, I researched the following (okey, cribbed from the book “Manila, My Manila”):

 

Before the palefaces arrived in these shores, Metro Manila was of two kingdoms—Maynila and Namayan. The former is where Fort Santiago is now; the latter had its capital where Sta. Ana is now. Namayan’s territories include familiar places—Quiapo, San Miguel, Sampaloc, Santa Mesa, Paco, Pandacan, Mandaluyong, San Juan, Makati, Pasay, Pateros, Taguig and Parañaque.

     According to Manila historian and National Artist for Literature and Journalism Nick Joaquin, the high point of Namayan history was the marriage, sometime in the 13th century, of Namayan princess (later Empress) Sasaban to Madjapahit Empire crown prince (later Emperor) Soledan (orAnka Widyaya). They ruled Indonesia.

     The imperial couple had a son, Prince Balagtas. Because he was to become King of Namayan, he married Lady Banginoan. Banginoan was the daughter of Lord Lontok and Lady Kalangitan, princess of Pasig. Her grandfather was Archduke Araw.

     One of King Balagtas’ descendants was Lakan Takhan who had a bastard son named Pasay. Takhan bequeathed to his son the kingdom we now know as Pasay City.

     After Takhan, Namayan was ruled by his son Palaba, who was in turn succeeded by his son Laboy. Laboy was succeeded on the throne by his son Kalamayin. It was Kalamayin’s sad fortune to be the sovereign when the palefaces arrived. When Kalamayin’s son was baptized a Christian, prince Martin, the Kingdom of Namayan was no more.

     The Kings of Maynila, Tondo, Namayan and others were originally Borneans. It was therefore natural for them to embrace Islam as their religion.

    As an aside, Joaquin wrote about El Kapitan Juan de Salcedo falling in love with a local Princess—the Lady Candarapa. Salcedo was Legazpi’s nephew while Candarapa was Lakan Dula’s niece. Both Legazpi and Lakan Dula frustrated the love affair. Salcedo was sent to conquer Ilocandia; Candarapa died three months after her lover sailed north. Salcedo christianized the Ilocos and the Cagayan Valley regions; Candarapa gave us the word that means “hopeslessly in love.” (Shades of Captain Smith and Pocahontas and Romeo and Juliet.)

    From the seeds of King Balagtas sprang such Tagalog-Pampango dynasties as the Soliman, the Lakandola, the Gatbonton, the Gatchalian, the Gatmaitan, the Gatdula, the Malang and the Kapulong or today’s Capulong. In fact, in later times, if a person has distinguished himself, his name is preceded by a “Gat” like Rizal and Bonifacio.

     It should be remembered that Rajah Soliman, along with his uncle, Rajah Matanda (Rajah Laya), Lakan Dula, and the great Lakan Macabebe from Pampanga were the brave kings who fought Legazpi in the battle off Bangkusay in Tondo. They lost, Lakan Macabebe killed. But there were lost battles that inspired wars of liberation at some later date (Alamo, Texas; Moncada, Cuba; Tet Offensive, Vietnam).

 

Five hundred years later, one of these kings’ descendants fights his battles and wars defending the Filipino. His name is Romeo T. Capulong.

 

= = = =

1-23-2007

I stared at the TV unbelieving—Niel Tupas Jr flying and sprawling to the floor, being mauled by the police. While his body guards tried to protect him, armalite rifles were aimed at him like he was a nobody.

     Niel is Jun-jun to family, friends and constituents. Namesake of his controversial father, Iloilo governor Niel Tupas Sr., he is a provincial board member of Iloilo. He is a lawyer, an Ateneo Law school grad. Had his undergrad at the UP but was a freshman at San Beda. Everyone thinks he is being groomed to carry on their political dynasty. Why not? So what if it’s unconstitutional? In this banana republic, other political families do it all the time. At least, Niel is not another dumb Atenean in the mold of dato arroyo who’s running for congressman of Camarines Sur!

     Back in 1988, San Beda freshman APL class was arranged alphabetically during the first day of school. I found myself seated beside this bearded teenager who wore tight fitting designer shirt, jeans and sneakers. We were college freshmen who had to endure the elementary school “procedure” of introducing ourselves to the entire class. I would never forget how Niel introduced himself. “Niel Tupas JR. Tupas with an ‘s’. From Iloilo.” He expelled the name “Niel Tupas JR” from his chest like it wasn’t his own. I also wondered why he had to emphasize Tupas was spelled with an “s”.

     I came to know why a couple of weeks later. Niel emphasized the “JR” because the “Sr” was and is somebody in Iloilo. Congressman pala noon si Papa. I also found out there is a surname spelled “Tupaz”, with a “z” (presumably not family and not well-known or well-off).

     Although the entire class became tightly knit after some time, it can’t be help that we had closer friends. Mine was fellow Ybanag Gilbert Mendoza who became corps commander of the ROTC in our senior year. I did not know if Niel had any. I did not dare become his. He always had a bodyguard with him. Besides, he really did not mingle much with us. His favorite hang out was the library, making sure he had good grades to be able to transfer to the UP on his sophomore year. (Actually, I do not now understand why transferring to UP was and still is a big deal. I also had a taste of UP and Ateneo [and a sprinkling of Paulinian–gasp!] education and I saw no gaping difference. My wife would say, kasi DLSU-di lumusot sa Upcat-so they took the only route left.)

     Next thing I heard of Niel was when I read his engagement on the papers’ society pages. I also learned he is a lawyer and a budding politician in old Iloilo. When CERV was in the province, I planned on paying him a visit and proposing a partnership with the provincial government. I somehow failed to do it until events overtook us.

     Then the TV clips of the police assault and the subsequent interviews. He told off interior secretary Ronaldo Puno with righteous anger. And being the lawyer and politician he is, Niel’s vitriol was laced with legalese and politicese (is this even a word?).

     Here is an unsolicited advice to my former classmate:

     Niel, p’re, the entire country already knows your father’s dismissal by the Ombudsman is gloria’s payback for Niel Sr’s support of the 2005 impeachment complaint. Cease being a lawyer all the time when you want bigger public empathy to your cause. Stop belaboring this point. If you keep on blabbering about the legality of your father’s hold on to power, the government will just come out with its own interpretation of the law. In a country like ours, it is never about the law. It is always about who is in power.

     Rather, the bigger and more damning accusation against gloria is her wanton violation of the people’s human rights. The Ombudsman’s order is no longer the bigger issue. The assault is. It is not about who is governor. It is about you and your fellow Ilonggo’s human rights being violated. That’s the issue that will turn you from a being a simple lawyer and politician to a public defender. That’s the issue that will ensure that you do not only have legal power on your side but, more importantly, people power.

       If police brutality and state repression could be perpetrated against a Tupas with an “s”, chances are it can even be more brutal and repressive against a Tupaz with a “z”.

      Welcome to this end of the police stick and gloria’s armalite rifle.

= = = =

1-18-2007

 

First off the block in the race to submit certificates of candidacy with the Commission on Elections were the usual, uhm, suspects.  Unlike racehorses though, they have rounded the mental bend long before the first day of filing of certificates.

If the elections are held today and I am left with no choice but these “gentlemen”, the first on my ballot would be Daniel Magtira.  He has after all submitted an impressive bio-data.  According to him, he is married to former presidential daughter, actor and talk and game show host Kris Aquino and is nominated by Rep. Imee Marcos and Boy Abunda.  And I guess being an “automative electronic Pinoy rock singer composer” carries a lot of weight in these parts.  He even brought a guitar with him.

Second on my ballot would be Rummel Pinera, a “small businessman” from Laguna who in his interview sounded like he made half a sense.  He said this country is rotting and something must be done with it.  So he runs for the Senate and betrays his mental state.

Theodore Aquino is a waste management engineer based in the US.  His years dealing with American crap may have gotten to his head though.  His candidacy is his way of fulfilling his promise to his uncle Ninoy Aquino, he said.  I am not surprised.  The dead vote in the Philippines, don’t you know?

I would never vote for Atty. Oliver Lozano.  This guy admitted he forestalled the impeachment complaint against gloria in 2005.  He even asked executive secretary Eduardo Ermita to include him in the adminstration’s line-up because of “services” rendered for Malacañang.  Nagkabukuhan na.   The Palace is not beyond using crackpots just to save gloria’s hide!

These early birds may be comic relief to some.  But one thing can be said about them—they sure have the right idea about the Comelec, this country’s electoral system and of the institution they want to become members.

= = = =

1-15-2007

 

Click. View. Look closer. Comment. Rate. Download. Share!

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQrK2aEYv8U

 

No to gloria’s cha-cha!