Conquering Pinatubo

DUAL CITIZEN friends – in matters of state and age, that is – asked me how it was to climb Mount Pinatubo at 62, amazed at my feat last Saturday duly recorded in photos and uploaded on Facebook.

Swollen pride instantly took out the sore back, battered knees, and aching feet, to smugly beam: It was no different from climbing Mount Pinatubo at 51.

Aye, as it was in 2005, so it is in 2016 – 1.5-hour ride in 4X4s from Sta. Juliana to the jump-off point where starts the 1,5-hour trek; staff in hand, slippers on feet to step in and walk through rivulets and creeks where shoes needed stepping stones for crossing. This time though with the wife, her sister and two brothers, a sister in-law, two friends and two of our kids.

Aye, as it was in 2005, so it is in 2016 – the landscape changed as it remained constant: nature’s own paradox of the ephemeral as eternal.   

Indeed, the exactness of Saturday’s experience with that first climb 11 years ago, finding print as the last chapter of Pinatubo: Triumph of the Kapampangan Spirit, published by the San Fernando, Pampanga Heritage Foundation, Inc. in 2008.

 A SKYLINE of sand – golden hued in the early morning sun.
Majestic in enormity, yet ephemeral – shaped by every whisper of the wind, recast at each drop of heaven’s tears.
One cannot help but wax romantic, if not poetic, on the way to Mount Pinatubo: There is so much primeval beauty, there is nary a trace of the volcano’s fury.
Apparently appeased with so much sacrifice in human lives and worldly possessions in the holocaust of the 1991 eruptions, Apo Namalyari – Pinatubo’s deity to the native Aetas – rebirthed Paradise in his realm.
Mount Pinatubo mystically stands like a prized jewel enticing to be possessed, or – pardon the chauvinistic incorrectness – an entrancing maiden to be conquered.
Conquest – the promise of glory at the peak, of overpowering the once mighty wellspring of death and destruction – sets throngs upon throngs on treks to Pinatubo.

Driving out of the Sta. Juliana staging point in Capas, Tarlac on board four-wheel-drive contraptions resembling African safari vehicles, the trekker comes to an open, dusty plain stretching out to a horizon broken by emerald-topped jagged peaks. Precipitous peaks of sand carved by the rain and smoothened by the wind forming a scaled-down Grand Canyon in whitish gray.

Babbling brooks branch out to rivulets meandering through boulders at the canyon floor strewn with more rocks, pebbles and pumice stones in all sizes and shapes. The cool, clear waters a soothing relief to the stinging heat.

Here, by Pinatubo’s foot the means of transport all stop and park. On hallowed ground no tire shall tread? Might as well had this been pre-ordained, as riding ahead through boulders the size of houses is an impossibility.

On foot the climb starts. No ropes, no grappling hooks, no pickaxes and mountain boots needed. There are no steep cliffs to scale, no ragged ravines to rappel.
Water, plenty of water to fight the heat and a sturdy staff to balance oneself across the river rocks make the very basic climb requisites.

With neither sharp rises nor abrupt drops, the gradient ascends gradually, almost gently all the way: along the gurgling streamlets; onto the outcrops of rocks and boulders belched from the volcano’s belly; through the thicket of cogon grass and assorted shrubs that, like a verdant curtain, opens to a stairway hacked out of a sudden rise at the top of which lies the spectacle of Pinatubo’s very crater.

Behold, a lake serene in blue and green. What lies beneath such stillness? The pent-up rage of centuries expended, a marvelous quietude pervades.

In the beholder, certain calm, transcendence, a spiritual epiphany permeate, even renewed faith: in that feeling of closeness, nay, of oneness with one’s God.
Conquest? By nature’s majesty, we are ever conquered.

Remembering Marcos, forgetting EDSA

IT’S THE 30^th anniversary of the EDSA Revolution.

But more than that event, it is Martial Law – chalking its 43^rd year of infamy this coming September 21 yet – that is getting the greater remembering, public memory stoked by a media feeding frenzy.

No Marcos loyalist here, in fact a martial law victim myself, but I sense method to this madness, and malice to the method of this upsurge in Marcos denunciation: The glare of the spotlight on martial law abuses blinds the nation to the utter failures of EDSA, as well as its own excesses.

Nunquam iterum! So we raise our voices hoarse at martial law. Terrified as we are now at the specter of its resurrection in Marcos Junior. So, rightfully, should the sins of the father be visited upon the son?

Never again! So we may equally shout at EDSA. Given where it has led to – from the tragedy that was Ninoy to the farce that is Noynoy.

And the farce goes on. Just look at the buffoonery in the five-ring circus that is the  presidential campaign. Which makes me think all the more of Marcos. Not so much for his tyranny, as for the breadth and depth of his keen understanding, if not mastery, of Philippine politics. Thus:

MORE OFTEN the politician neither legislates nor administers so much as he intervenes and mediates.

He achieves a personalized relationship with his constituents as individual persons, more anxious about doing things for each of them rather than for all of them. A bridge, a school, or a rural development project, although

important, is not enough. Has he been approachable? Has he managed to place a son in a Manila office?

Where was he when a fire broke out or a typhoon came? How personally generous has he been with the needs of certain influential leaders? If he fails in these personalist tests, he fails as a politician.

Are the people to blame for this state of affairs? Hardly, for conditions are such that the majority depend on the government. But are the politicians, who are simply responding to the situation as they see it? I would say Yes.

Within the undeniably practical limits of political survival, politicians can and should try out some innovations that will transform the political culture from being populist, personalist and individualist to being more nationalist, institutional and socialist, in the strict meaning of being more conscious about the needs of society and the national community…

One reason for the pervasiveness of corruption is that in being part of the system, everyone it touches seems to benefit…The corrupt politician who is at the same time accessible to his constituents has more chances of staying in power than an honest one “who has not done anything.”

He probably takes his legislative or executive work more seriously, concentrating on collective goals to the detriment of political “fence mending,” but he is more often judged by the populist, personalist and individualist standards of the political culture.

A true politician should be able to lead his constituency in a precarious present toward an uncertain future, but he dares not initiate or innovate unless he can be sure it will not cost his position.

It is easy to condemn him for lack of moral courage, but what good is a businessman without a business, a politician without policy? “I must see where my people are going so that I may lead them,” an Athenian politician

was supposed to have said. There are certain conditions, however, in which this attitude cannot be a useful principle of democratic leadership.

AS TRUE today as 42 years ago when penned in Today’s Revolution: Democracy.

Populist. Personalist. Individualist. Marcos distilled the essence of all that is wrong, aye, the very evil of politics in the country. Proof positive once more of the Great Ferdinand’s mastery of political domain.

Even more – testament anew to the persistent prevalence of politics as plunder in the Philippine praxis. EDSA Uno no matter. EDSA Dos, whatsoever. BS Aquino III, no bother.

Indeed, Santayana, by our disremembering, we are nation deserving of our damning.

Abad Santos demeaned

 IT’S STILL a long way to May 7, but last Friday the City of San Fernando already went through its customary rites of honoring its greatest contribution to the pantheon of national heroes, Chief Justice Jose Abad Santos.

May 7 officially designated JAS Day, a special holiday in the province of Pampanga, even as the exact date of his martyrdom has not been determined, with May 2 as another probability.

It is precisely on that unsettled death date issue that 3^rd District Rep. Oscar S. Rodriguez filed a bill in the House changing the date of commemoration to February 19, JAS’s date of birth.

“The day is not so important and what is important is we recognize the heroism. Pero para lalong mapatingkad at hindi magulo, mas maigi na sigurado tayo sa araw na hindi pwedeng palitan at iyun ay ang araw ng kanyang kapanganakan,” said Cong Oca. “Kaya ang napagdesisyunan ng National Historical Commission and yours truly na ang birthdate niya ang araw ng pagdiriwang ng kanyang kabayanihan.”

Thus, last Friday’s celebration of Abad Santos’ 130^th birth anniversary which Rodriguez hoped would be replicated in other areas touched by the life and death of the Filipino hero. Even as he clarified that May 7 will remain a special holiday until the new law designating February 19 as JAS Day is enacted.

As things go during these city commemoration rites for heroes, Mayor Edwin Santiago cannot be contained in his panegyrics of Abad Santos’ “act of sacrifice” that knocked at the very gates of heaven, then come back to earth thus: "This is now a standing challenge for every leader to stop those self-gain acts and become role models, not only this election season."

And then some more: “It is not just about dying for the country. Modern heroes are those who live their life in service for others."  

Reminding one and all of the innateness of greatness in our race: “Likas sa ating mga Fernandino ang pagmamahal sa bayan, at ang kabayanihan ay naipapakita sa pagpapahalaga sa edukasyon, kalikasan, at sa kapwa.”

Citing as imperative then for the “current generation to learn from the lessons that can be derived from the story of local heroes.”

Hollowed meaning

Inspiring words there from Santiago truly befitting the hallowed occasion. But sadly hollowed of meaning. Pure lip service to vainly gloss over the worst insult inflicted upon Abad Santos by the city government Santiago heads, the natural consequence of which is the worst disservice to the people of Pampanga, if not the whole nation.

That is excising Abad Santos from the History of San Fernando, in the city government-sponsored and -funded Kasalesayan ning San Fernando launched only last February 9, exactly 10 days before Santiago’s paeans at the foot of the hero’s monument.

In a hasty review of Kasalesayan here on February 12, I noted that the book “is no place for heroes,” lamenting how its Chapter 8 – Great Fernandinos: Expressions of Excellence did not include Abad Santos and his equally great, if not even greater, brother Pedro. The books idea of greatness and excellence exclusive only to artists and performers, beauty queens and social celebrities which it celebrated with profiles and photographs.

The Abad Santos brothers mentioned only on the occasion of President Manuel L. Quezon’s visit to the capital in the chapter dealing with pre-war San Fernando. Their single pictures in the whole book: a minute faded cameo of Pedro, a   postage stamp-size picture of Jose’s oath-taking.

Seriously, what history can one make of San Fernando absent Don Pepe and Don Perico? So we asked then.

The answer: That Kasalesayan, indeed a non-history, that is now being pushed by Santiago for “the current generation to learn from.” Especially as his administration press released that the “initial 300 copies will be distributed to private and public institutions which will serve as reference especially to teachers.” 

In 1942, the Japanese Imperial Army executed Abad Santos, birthing the greatest Filipino martyr of WWII. As Jose Rizal is to the Spanish Colonization, as Antonio Luna is to the Philippine-American War.   

In 2016, the city government of his very hometown did the Japanese invaders even worse, by expunging Abad Santos from its own history.

No surprise

Come to think of it, why should we even be surprised?

Then as now, the remembrance of Abad Santos, much less memorializing his heroism, has not gone beyond the perfunctory wreath-laying and rhetoric on his official death date at the foot of his monuments – only three in the whole of Pampanga: at the Provincial Capitol grounds, at Heroes Hall, and fronting the Museo ning Angeles.

So what school, public or private, elementary or secondary, vocational or college, in San Fernando, in the whole Pampanga for that matter, has been named in honor of Abad Santos?

Ah yes, there was but one: Jose Abad Santos High School in 1966 per act of Congress via a measure sponsored by 1^st District Rep. Juanita L. Nepomuceno at the time when the province had only two congressional districts. Which in 1991 reverted to its old Pampanga High School, courtesy of 3^rd District Rep. Oscar S. Rodriguez, a PHS alumnus.     

Why, at the very demolition of the Abad Santos ancestral home just off the old public market in the late 1980s (early 1990s?), not even a whispered whimper of a protest was heard from the town officials or from local heritage advocates, despite the site proudly sporting the marker of the National Historical Institute as the birthplace of the hero.

Why, but for an afterthought of civic and business groups was the Gapan-San Fernando-Olongapo Road was also named Jose Abad Santos Avenue, albeit limited in usage to the San Fernando stretch, and the Department of Public Works and Highways still referencing to it in its maintenance contracts as GSO.

This, even as nationwide, Jose Abad Santos has not been short of memorials – from the P1,000 bill to halls of justices bearing his name.

Alas, like the prophet of old, Abad Santos is not without honor, save in his own hometown.

And you have the historical nonsensicality, aye, the intellectual infirmity, of the city government to damn for it.

Corruption conjugated

THE STINK wafting out of this local government unit’s open dumpsite and industrial chimneys smells like fragrant ylang-ylang – compared to the stench rising out of the rottenness of the SOP’s imposed by what is dubbed the “conjugal maladministration” lording over the LGU.

Conjugal there referencing partnership, not necessarily sanctioned by either Church or state. Maladministration construing devious twisting of governmental procedures beneficial solely to the partners – one sitting where the other once sat.

Sitting One, naturally, takes charge of the official acts – religiously at the town hall; Once Sat, of the unbecoming ones – usually at mall coffeeshops. The modus?

Contractor of Principal Developer comes to the municipio with the plan of a warehouse and cold storage facility to be built on a lot developer has long owned in town.

A perfunctory review of the plans, and Contractor is given the go signal for the project, but only after paying the “development fee” of over P1 million, based on the per square assessment of the lot.

Land development starts with raising ground elevation, the site being a flood plain. So Contractor sources filling materials from quarry sites approved by the environmental and natural resources offices.

Contractor has barely dumped five truckfuls when men from the municipal engineer’s office come with a stoppage order that do not cite any violation or non-compliance that warranted it.

Clueless, Contractor seeks explanation directly from Sitting One who indulges him with a meeting, not at the municipio but at a posh hotel in the premier city – at Contractor’s expense.

There, Contractor gets the surprise of his life finding face-to-face not only with Sitting One but with Once Sat too, smug as the crocodile that just devoured the carabao.

There and then, in no uncertain terms, Sitting One tells Contractor that the supply of filling materials for all construction in the town is exclusive to Once Sat.

To Contractor’s protestation of the blatant illegality of such diktat, Sitting One simply replies it is an “unbreakable” SOP, so “Take it, or no project.”

Still-smug Once Sat sweet-lemoning Contractor with an offer to buy-out his pantambak contract for P2 million, igniting a spontaneous combustion of cussing in the latter. That Once Sat sneeringly smiles off.

The day after the meeting, Contractor gets call from Principal Developer telling him – with profuse apologies – that his share of the tambakan has been reduced to 30 percent with Once Sat “generously compromising” to get “only 70 percent” of the whole package.

Off-record, Principal Developer intimating to Contractor that Sitting One has constrained him with the “Take it, or no project” ultimatum.  

Concerned Friend of Contractor takes the story to Higher Authority. His whispers – not really careless – audible enough for this nosy, “ear-sy” journalist to make a column out of it.   

No names, for now. Sorry, I am not that keen -- yet – to court another libel case.

But see red – literally and figuratively – and find those conjugatedly corrupted characters in this story stand out.

     

Ugly Korean

LAST TIME we looked, foreign investors in the country still cannot fully own local companies, much less vast tracts of land, whether private estates or those in the public domain.

We need to look elsewhere, perhaps, to explain then the claim of exclusivity over a public road by the Korean investor who put up the Puning Hot Springs Spa at the boundary of Porac and Angeles City.

Hurting and raging was the group of 4X4 enthusiasts led by no less than Pampanga Chamber of Commerce and Industry Vice-Chair Rene Romero, Pampanga Off-Roaders Club Inc. top honcho Marni Castro, and Land Rover Club Phil. President Robby Consunji after they were barred, repeatedly, from driving through the road in the area of the wellness spa.

The group was on its way to Sitio Target of Barangay Sapangbato, Angeles City with tourists and pilots participating in the 20^th International Hot Air Balloon Festival at the Clark Freeport when stopped.

“It was a very big surprise for us,” Romero said, cognizant that it was a public road they were traversing, no matter the expense the Korean proprietor – through his dummy – is putting up for its maintenance.

Consunji said they understood that the resort has its own fleet of 4X4s for its clients and tourists, but their group was not there to give them any competition. Their presence being a part of an on-going government-sanctioned event.

The injury of being barred from proceeding to their destination – delivered as it was by locals working at the spa – was further compounded by the insult the Korean management inflicted upon Romero et al with an unpleasant response after the group apprised them of what happened.

This notwithstanding, Romero was still able to serve some goodwill, “…glad for what the Puning Hot Springs Resort has done for the area. They have provided livelihood for the people in the neighboring Aeta communities.”

So, they will only write to the Department of Environment and Natural Resources and the Bureau of Internal Revenue on the status of the resort, and make an incident report to the Pampanga provincial government.

No, this Puning Hot Springs Spa is outside the Republic of Tugade, er, Clark Freeport Zone and thus out of the Tatalonian Toughie’s protected domain. So I was told by sources in the Clark Development Corp.  

Interesting to find then where it gets its Mayor’s Permit and other business licenses, where it pays – and how much – taxes, who checks its sanitation and fire hazard compliance. Paging Mayor Ed Pamintuan and Mayor Carling de la Cruz!     

While at it, throw in the Department of Labor and Employment to check on the working conditions, the wages and other benefits of the workers there. Ditto the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples as Aetas are reported to be working there.

Romero, on behalf of the group, will also merely file a formal complaint with the Central Luzon Regional Development Council where he sits as private sector representative.

Considering that this is already the second instance of humiliation for Romero’s group in the hands of Puning’s Korean, give it to their sense of sobriety and kindness that they have not called on the Bureau of Immigration to declare this ugly Korean the most undesirable alien that he has proven himself to be.

Just because he/she/it invested millions gives him/her/it no excuse, much less any right, to discriminate against Filipinos in their own land. He/she/it ought to be banished from here, pronto.

We have already an overload of local overlords trampling upon us, we don’t need to import any, especially this Kim Jong-Il come-to-life.      

History skewed

ALL OF 118 glossy leaves between covers and totally absent any pagination!

Wow! On that score alone, Kasalesayan Ning San Fernando (History of San Fernando) may well deserve a niche all its own in the Guinness Book of World Records, or top spot in some Idiot’s Guide to Book Publishing.

A book with no page numbers, which “initial 300 copies will be distributed to private and public institutions which will serve as reference especially to teachers.” Duh, pity the poor Madam seeking the specific page to reference relative to the specific chapter, section or text for her lesson at hand. 

Duh, duh, woe unto the poor researcher excerpting passages from the book with no page to cite in his footnotes.

And that’s just for starters.

Mishmash

The lay-out is cluttered. A mishmash of collages, pa-effect framings and photos begging relevance to the accompanying texts defile the synergy of all elements that ideally make the page reach out to and catch the total attention of the reader.

Unhelped, aye, worsened by the low quality of many of the photographs – over, under, poorly composed, needs cropping, distorted, if I may borrow from the critiques of master lensmen Borj Meneses and Ruston Banal.

The very placement of some photos, to be succinctly brutal, is far from judicious. Like that of “Gen. Douglas MacArthur in Bamban, January 26, 1945…” appearing in the section featuring Barangay Bulaon with no reference whatsoever to the American liberator.

That one vintage photo of a car traveling on some road appearing twice in a single chapter, with the same caption: “Dalan Bayu. Highway near San Fernando in the early 1900s” and then again in another chapter with the caption: ‘Manila North Road, San Fernando” is absolute nonsense, mayhaps rising out of indolence of the lay-out artist compounded by myopia on the part of the editor.

Recurrence obtains too in the subsections “Kabangka Ding Barrio,” “Kabangka; Barangay beginnings,” and “Kabangka: Emergent barangays” appearing within four leaves of one another in Chapter 1. It gives the reader the impression that the writer has a rather limited lexicon.

No simple recurrence but gross misprint is the case of two paragraphs in Chapter 10 repeated in toto in successive pages. The proofreader or the editor caught soundly asleep there.

Conversely, a whole section, “Dungan: San Fernando. The Philippine-American War, and the Fall of the Republic (1899)” was cut halfway, giving space to an italicized unattributed account, severing continuity and shutting logic out of the article.     

Contributing to the clutter in the pages is the randomness of the typefaces used and the non-uniformity of the font sizes, especially in the section heads – some all caps, others upper and lower; some bold, others normal.

Neither rhyme nor reason too obtained in the italicization: Kapampangan or non-English words, names of newspapers, radio-TV stations, titles of books or art works come italicized at times, in normal type at other. It makes a wonder what stylebook the editor of the book used, or if the editor had any notion of a stylebook at all.

And that’s only for the form.

Good

The book has its good parts, great parts, to be fair rather than simply be kind.

Historical curiosity finds satiation in the chapters written by Joel P. Mallari on Geography and the Barrios, Lino L. Dizon on Propaganda and the Revolutions, Robby P. Tantingco on Peacetime to WW II, and Dom Martin H. Gomez, OSB, on Life and Faith.

Truly enlightening, entertaining, empowering read. The last, notwithstanding a glaring factual error in citing “…the incumbent bishop, the Most Rev. Emilio A. Cinense, DD…became its first archbishop. He was succeeded by Most Rev. Paciano B. Aniceto…on March 14, 1988.”

It was, in fact, the Most Rev. Oscar V. Cruz that succeeded Apu Cinense in 1978.

Worst

For its worst part, there’s Chapter 5: Postwar to Martial Law -- a blabber of motherhood statements, enumeration of the names of the mayors of that period, a hodgepodge of catchphrases of the times capped by the totally irrelevant pictures of NLEx and SCTEx and that billboard directory by the road leading to the government center in Maimpis. All of three leaves and a half make the chapter really deficient in form, hollow in substance.

All there is of martial law is a half-page photograph of Marcos. Yes, there is a picture of the marker “Assassination Site of Levi Panlilio (Calulut)” but not its story.

While I have no knowledge of the postwar reconstruction of the capital, having been born years later, I am a living witness to the period before, during and after martial law here. From memory now:  

Panlilio’s assassination followed by the killing of Sto. Tomas Mayor Joaquin Pineda inside a cabaret at the boundary of Del Pilar and San Nicolas;

Mayor Armando P. Biliwang figureheading the para-military Barrio Self-Defense Units against insurgents;

Sen. Benigno S. Aquino Jr. intervening in the 1971 gubernatorial race, raising the hand of unknown Brigido Valencia as his personal choice and the Liberal Party standard bearer at a rally in San Fernando, spelling doom for frontrunner Virgilio “Baby” Sanchez.

The occupation by Constabulary troopers of the churchyard and blockade of all roads around the Poblacion area upon the declaration of martial law.

The “Rape of Democracy” in the elections of 1980, when teachers were herded by armed goons at the municipal hall, “threatened and coerced into making spurious election returns without regard to the genuine ballots in the ballot boxes.”

The heroism of these teachers led by the intrepid Tess Tablante led to the nullification of the election results, deposed the proclaimed winner and set an unprecedented rule of succession with a Philippine Constabulary officer, Col. Amante Bueno, deputy commander for administration at Camp Olivas, seated as OIC-Mayor, succeeded by lawyer Vic Macalino, on the recommendation of the Estelito P. Mendoza, governor of Pampanga, secretary of justice, solicitor-general, among other titles. The political impasse ending with special election in 1983 won by Baby Sanchez.

Contemporaneous event was the assassination of Jose B. Lingad even as the 1980 count in the gubernatorial contest was ongoing with him leading.

The birth of MAYAP (Movement for the Advancement of Young Advocates of Pampanga) with Oscar S. Rodriguez, Attlee Viray, Jesse Caguiat and Roman Razon at the core in the fight for human rights.  

Incomplete, aye, cheated is the history of San Fernando without any accounting of these milestones.

Lost

Lost in transition from Chapter 5 to Chapter 6: Mt. Pinatubo Eruptions and the Making of a City is the period leading to EDSA 1 and its immediate aftermath.

The role San Fernando played leading to EDSA is by all means stellar: serving as fertile ground to dissent spurred by the Ninoy Aquino assassination, the countless yellow rallies – one at the cathedral with Dona Aurora Aquino leaving no eyes dry with her contemplation of her own sorrowful mysteries in the life and death of her son, the consolidation of the opposition in the 1984 Batasang Pambansa elections, the busloads of Fernandinos trooping to EDSA throughout the revolt.

The euphoria dampened by the refusal of Sanchez to vacate the municipal hall and cede the post to OIC-Mayor Paterno Guevarra, the once perennial loser finally winning in 1988.

Those too contributed to what San Fernando is today.

Unheroic

Alas, the book is no place for heroes.

Chapter 8 – Great Fernandinos: Expressions of Excellence with the bullets: Movers and shakers, Leaders and builders, Peerless pioneers, Visionaries and dreamers has a surfeit of artists and performers, writers and engineers, beauty titlists and even social celebrities, each with his/her own personality sketch.

That pantheon of greatness excluded the truly great Fernandinos, authentic heroes who consecrated their lives for country and people, notably Pedro Abad Santos, father of Philippine Socialism, whom it remembered through minute faded cameo; and Jose Abad Santos, greatest Filipino martyr in WWII, whom it honored with a postage stamp-size picture of his oath-taking. In effect, reducing them to mere footnotes of local history.

Utter disrespect, sheer contempt of the Abad Santos brothers made even more manifest vis-à-vis the full-page full-color photographs of Cong. Oscar Rodriguez for having chaired the El Circulo Fernandino 2012 ball, Cannes-winning director Brilliante Mendoza, and heritage advocate Ivan Henares.

Seriously, what history can one make of San Fernando absent Don Pepe and Don Perico?

Kasalesayan falls mighty short of being the history book it purports to be. 

And I haven’t even finished browsing through its leaves. 

  

 

     

In character

"DITO LANG ako nakahalik ng maraming lips to lips. Tapos, may isang kandidato, sabi niya, 'Ito si Duterte, napaka-dumi. Lahat ng babae hinahalikan.' Kita mo mga walang utak, walang libog kasi."

So ABS-CBN News quoted presidential pretender Rodrigo Duterte as having said of the libidinous turn of events during his stint in Angeles City and Pampanga last week.

“I haven’t been to a place where I’ve kissed as many girls. Lips to lips, even with tongue, because it’s delicious. Never mind if I lose, (as long as I get to kiss all the beautiful women.)”

Rappler’s translated take of Duterte’s ecstasy is even more sinfully graphic, premised thus: “Just a few days after his common-law wife said the tough-talking presidential aspirant already put his womanizing ways behind him… Duterte goes on a kissing spree in Angeles City.”

So, what’s wrong there?

Kissing babies is an American political tradition.

Kissing the Baby was a monopoly of one Philippine presidentiable in his successful campaign some years back.

Kissing not only babes but just about every woman is a Duterte affectation. Perfectly in character with the maton machismo, originally parlayed by Asiong Salonga, er, Erap Estrada, into a successful political career – mayor, senator, vice president, president, mayor.

Erap, on record, has scoffed at Duterte – “for lack of finesse” in his fornications – as nothing more than an unrated copycat, and dismissed him as good only for Davao City, sorely lacking in national perspective, if not presidential depth, much less demeanor.

Indeed, Duterte can learn a thing or two from Erap if only in matters of discretion, in les liaisons dangereuses. But why should he?

That would detract from him his boorish ways, near-barbarian means and thuggish behavior. Aye, that would totally deconstruct his very being Digong Duterte.     

Simply by being himself, Duterte shocks and awes. Which endears him all the more to his fanatical following, derisively, and most unfairly, called “Dutertards.” Which generates for him the widest, not necessarily deepest, media coverage. And makes him the most talked about among the candidates.

It works, and works well, for Duterte.

By simply being in character, Duterte can get away with murder. So, didn’t he himself correct an interviewer asking if he killed 700 by reckoning the number was 1,700?

Only Duterte can admit to his involvement in the foulest of crimes and gain much political capital from it.

Only Duterte can make a public display of his lechery and gain overwhelming acceptance, if not approval, for it.

Only Duterte can curse the Pope and be believed when he denied it, the indubitably damning video “Pope, putang ina ka…” notwithstanding.

Only Duterte. It’s all in character. Not that every Filipino is buying it though. Ay, the guy’s got to grow up too, even after growing old.  

Similarly, only in Angeles – come to think of it – can Duterte get the most number of lips-to-lips and tonguing kisses.

Like Digong, perfectly in character here too is Angeles: as Sin City.

Duterte’s (a)rousing welcome from the city denizens is a veritable throwback to the mayorship of Don Francisco Nepomuceno at the height of the American occupation of Clark Air Base.

In every affair of the city where GI Joes were present, the stock welcome address or opening remarks of Don Paquito was always: “Angeles welcomes you with open arms…and open legs.”

Which never failed to bring the house down. And upped the city’s income, particularly from Fields Avenue.

Which, perpetuated the sufferance of Angeles’ women in the national psyche as “loose, cheap and easy.” Yeah, as in that Australian flyer in the ‘80s: “Come to Angeles City. The girls are cheap, 100 pesos only.”

Which Duterte’s lip services last week virtually reaffirmed.

In character. Who was it who said, “Character is destiny”?

Indeed, as much to Duterte as to Angeles City.

     

Angkor: Wat awesomeness

SIEM REAP, Cambodia – Hindu temple turned Buddhist turned Hindu turned Buddhist.

Two ancient faiths finding common ground whence sprang the grandeur of  Angkor Wat – the largest, longest in continual use, best known of all the other temples in what, arguably, could be the world’s largest concentration of places of worship in a single, contiguous territory of 154 square miles. Aptly called Angkor Archaeological Park.

And Number 1 in the list of the 500 Best Attractions on the Planet compiled by the largest travel guide book in the world, Lonely Planet.

“Angkor, meaning ‘capital’ actually serving as such of the Khmer Kingdom that ruled from the 9^th century to the 13^th when the temples – wat, in the local language – were constructed...” Snippets of historical facts hardly heard, much less internalized, in the cacophony of tongues – melodically Spanish, gutturally German, high-pitched Korean, singsong Vietnamese, cackling Chinese, hardly any Tagalog, and English, both cockney and twangy – resounding from the bas reliefs on the massive walls, echoing through the closed corridors of Angkor Wat.

The bas reliefs, simply spectacular! The grandest in scope a depiction of the concluding episode of the Indian epic Mahabharata – “the Battle of Kurukshetra when the Pandava and Kaurava clans met in final deadly combat” – complete with chariots, horsemen, foot soldiers, spears, swords, bows and arrows.

The bas reliefs detailed day-to-day life too – families in banquets, men in drinking sprees, different games …one of which instantly caught the fancy of Business Mirror’s Joey Pavia – cockfighting!

Spread throughout the temple walls were countless apsaras or bare-breasted female spirits in various stages of dance. No two apsaras are the same, not in their hairdos, dresses, poses. So we are told by our tour guide Mr. King. 

Asked why the bosoms and cheeks of the apsaras looked more smoothly polished than the rest of their parts, King said: “Those are the parts usually rubbed, not so much for lust as for luck.”

While Angkor Wat – with its five massive towers topped by tiers of lotuses tapering at the apex, expansive courtyards, stone causeway and wide moat – is unarguably the most imposing, it is Bayon that offers the most sumptuous feast for the eyes – intricate carvings on the columns, walls, and towers topped by faces – of the Buddha or any of the Khmer kings? – looking in all four directions of the compass.

And its own fair share of apsaras too. Every which way one looks is a view worth keeping. Bayon truly makes a photographer’s nirvana.

Of late, second only to Angkor Wat in popularity is Ta Phrom temple, after being famously featured in the Angelina Jolie starrer Lara Croft: Tomb Raider.

 

With less carvings and bas reliefs than either Bayon or Angkor, Ta Phrom’s attraction is its primeval state – giant balete and other forest trees rooted in or cracking the walls, strangling columns, entangling gates and doorways, whence one half expects mystical creatures to suddenly appear, followed by some primal scream. Really, cinematic.

Speaking of gates, the most picturesque is the South Gate of Angkor Thom, the bridge leading to it lined up – on the right side facing the entryway by massive statues of demons, and on the left by equally massive statues of gods. Evoking the eternal conflict between good and evil on the road to heaven’s gate.

Sunset view is best from the Pre Rup temple, so it is advertised. With the sun setting behind the lush vegetation by the west end, and not on the temple itself, it does not live up to its billing. 

But Pre Rup by itself does not fail to impress. Predominantly brick in material – giving some clues to its funerary function – its towers glow to a golden orange just before dusk. Its very steep stairs make some daunting challenge even to the fitness buff. The less athletic though can repair to the wooden stairs with railings at the right side of the temple.  

A number of other “major” temples are scattered throughout the park – Phimeanakas, Elephant Terrance, Srah Srong viewed from the touring bus this time. Ready to get their own exploration the next time around.

Hopefully not in the usual touristy arrive-shoot-pose-shoot-selfie-groupie-shoot-upload-leave-for-the-next-spot scheme of things this time.

As we see and capture the magnificence of a place, so should we also sense its majesty. In the case of a temple, be imbued with its spirituality. Coming less as tourists than pilgrims, only then can its awesomeness be truly experienced.  

Presidential becomes Nanay

GRACE POE has it all cut out for Pampanga.

Of the perennial problem of flooding: “Ang solusyon ay dapat magkaroon ng dam na 21,000 hectares (coverage?), dalawang catch basin, para naman ‘yong tubig galing sa matataas na lugar, pupunta do’n at hindi makakabaha sa mga distrito dito at makakatulong pa sa irigasyon.”

Yeah, the other bird hit by the same stone is the farmers’ eternal summer woe – shortage of water for irrigation. Swell.

The funds to make the dam happen?

What’s P20 billion from the national government savings of P600 billion. So said she, and, even more significant, her presidency’s openness: “Kami ay bukas sa mga ganitong uri ng proyekto na mararamdaman ng mga magsasaka, ng mga residente [sa mabababang lugar].”

Why, to show that she had done her Pampanga homework assiduously well, she has even asked local government officials of right-of-way issues that could arise from the damming project and was assured there was none.

In the Clark International Airport, Poe finds a no-brainer, citing: a) five million overseas Filipino contract workers in the airport’s catchment area of Central and Northern Luzon; b) the decongestion of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport with the CIA’s full operationalization, if only as an alternative airport, and its consequent effect on Metro Manila traffic; c) the CIA’s extensive runways and expansive spaces; d) the trade, tourism and employment opportunities a fully operationalized CIA will effect in the region, among others.

Poe’s running mate Chiz Escudero duly – and dutifully – seconding: ”Gagamitin natin bilang hub ang Clark sa paglipad papunta sa ibat ibang parte ng bansa dahil dito walang traffic at mas mabilis kaming makakauwi sa Quezon City kaysa mag-landing kami sa NAIA na sobrang traffic at sobra pa rin ang traffic mula Pasay pabalik ng Quezon City. Kami po siguro ang magiging unang ehemplo ng paglipad at paggamit ng Clark ngayong darating na halalan at saka sa Clark wala pang Laglag Bala scheme.”

Thus, among the first priorities of a Poe presidency – a national policy declaring the CIA as one premier gateway: “Kaya nga sinasabi ko, sa aking panunungkulan sa Malacanang ang mga kuarto roon ay hindi para sa meetings lamang. Kailangan may isang kuarto dun para sa infrastructure development kasi po ang mga programang katulad nito sa Clark, ang pagkakaroon ng railway system na konektado sa Metro Manila ay priority, sapagkat anim na taon lang ang administrasyon ng isang pangulo na gusto ko within the first year ay maumpisahan na ang implementasyon.”  

All this and a complementary railway to connect Subic, Clark and other cities in Central Luzon with Metro Manila!

GRACE POE has it all cut out for political leadership.

"If we aim for the development of both country and humanity, then we must have a leader who can deliver with a heart," she told her audience of senior citizens Friday at the Benigno Aquino Hall in the Capitol grounds.

Furthered Poe of her model: "A kind of mother's love wherein no one will be left behind. All sectors will be included in development." Not the least of which, the elderly who have given the best years of their lives for love of family and country.

"Working nanay 'ika nga. Kayang magtrabaho at kumalinga sa pamilya ng sabay," Poe citing the clear advantage of her gender in leadership positions, in matters of state and hearth.

And she, herself, finding the full definition in Gov. Lilia G. Pineda: "Programa para sa senior citizens, kababaihan, kabataan at maging mga katutubong Aeta dito sa Pampanga ay kanyang natututukan…Hindi naman siguro magiging unopposed si Governor Nanay kung hindi siya nagtatrabaho ng maayos at mahal ng mga Kapampangan.”

Poe could have struck there a most sympathetic chord with the Gov, hoping it gets translated into the province’s way over one million votes.

Aye, it is in molding herself in the Nanay template of governance that Poe may just make it all the way to the Palace.

Assuming, of course, the Supreme Court successfully defusing the legal landmines the Commission on Elections laid out along her path.