Defining Davao

BEEN THERE. Done that.

The jaded traveler’s dismissive indifference at returning to some place previously visited comes not to Davao City. Where other places are just to be taken by instant camera flash, Davao City makes one continuing loop of an experience. The Tagalogs have a better way of putting it -- Hindi nakaka-umay, bagkus ay binabalik-balikan.

And so, for the nth time I set foot on Davao City over the weekend past, joining the inaugural Clark-Davao flight of Philippines AirAsia. Actually, a re-inaugural, given that four or five years ago, the same airline also took a number of us Pampanga-based media on its maiden-maiden flight to the then-as-now Duterte City.

Davao City has been defined as 1) durian; 2) waling-waling; 3) the Philippine eagle; 4) Mount Apo; 5) pomelo; and 6) Duterte, with all the ramifications that come with the name, not the least of which the palpable peace and ubiquitous order all around the place. The city retains all these, but that last one in the first order of meanings now.

And so, first stop for us was the by-now world-famous plain green house on Sapphire St., Dona Luisa Village Phase II, with uniformed PSGs and local cops at every nook and cranny. All very friendly though, starting at the registration booth where pass thousands of the Duterte diehards and the plainly curious day-by-day for the obligatory selfie with the President, if only in a cut-out by the gate of his house.

Not too subliminally, to impact the simplicity of the Duterte home, we were taken to nearby Uno Subdivision with photo stops by the high-walled, heavy steel-gated estates of the Ampatuans of Maguindanao: on one side of the road the “livable” residences with well-maintained manicured curbs; on the other, bush- and weed-overgrown unfinished constructions, overtaken by the events rising out of the Ampatuan Massacre of November 2009.

Not in Davao’s definition above is tuna – the fish having been appropriated to GenSan. But no trip to the city is complete without partaking of tuna-ten-ways at Marina’s – kinilaw, sashimi, kare-kare, grilled, souped, ginataan, sisig, pinakbet…the mouth waters at the mere thought of that delightful lunch.

No thanks to an adverse reaction to durian on a previous visit, I totally abstained from the sweetened delights at Apo ni Lola, or the fresh fleshy fruits along Magsaysay Ave. Not even the durian brew served in just about every coffeeshop of note.

From the highlands to the islands. No other city in the Philippines has been so much blessed by nature of such geographical diversity.

Aside from Mount Apo, there’s Mount Talomo at the slope of which is nestled Eden Nature Park, a living forest with over 100,000 pine trees and other hardwood like narra and mahogany, plus plantation-sized farms of cacao, mangosteen, dragonfruit, etc. and, but of course, durian. And flower gardens too, serving well as pre-nuptial photo shoots.

With its crisp, cool mountain air, Eden Nature Park makes the perfect weekend family getaway with cottages, mountain villas and log cabins.

Extreme sports abound too – sky cycle, sky swing, sky rider.

One in the bucket list I planned to cross out but failed – ziplining. The spine is too brittle to risk, at this time. Five years back, I did one entry in my list, finishing, with much more energy to spare, the four-hour Davao Wild Water Adventure, after being tossed out of the raft twice, through the 25 rapids of the Upper Davao River. Another off-bucket list experience then: feasting on stewed crocodile meat at the eponymous farm owned by the Dizons of Porac, Pampanga.

  The island part took half day of hopping and swimming at a taklobo conservation site, a sumptuous seafood lunch at Talikod Island and a look-see from the boat of Pearl Farm Resort. Enough to sate the salty craving for the sea.

Speaking of cravings, the Museo Dabawenyo readily fills that of the cultural kind. It houses, albeit on summarized scale the history of the city, its heritage – the 11 tribes and their respective customs, traditions and ways of life, and serves too as gallery for the city’s artists.

 And more cravings – who doesn’t for chocolates? Find it at Malagos Chocolate Museum subtitled “Tree to Bar Experience” – a virtual Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory come alive. Guests here can craft their own choco bar from the ingredients laid out on a bar and a vat of liquid chocolate.        

Malagos is more than chocolate though. It is a garden resort that includes an aviary for bird-feeding, ponds for fish-feeding, a butterfly garden with a Museo de Mariposa, a waling-waling forest and playground for kids.          

Something I’d been denied in all previous trips to Davao, I made sure I would not miss this time around – a visit to the Philippine Eagle Center, if only to lay my eyes on majestic Pag-asa, the most famous of the few remaining pithecophaga jefferyi, hatched and bred in captivity at the center.

And I did, though but a glimpse of him perched on a branch of a tall tree, nearly hidden by the foliage. Closer encounters with other eagles made a most soul-stirring experience. Aye, why can’t we just leave nature in peace?   

So ended this last Davao jaunt. Already, pining for the next one. With much more of the same to see, feel, hear, taste, sense. And love, like the first time around. Again.

Dumped sighs

ENVIRONMENT Management Bureau (EMB) Region III director Lormelyn Claudio lauded the provincial government for the distribution of brand new dump trucks in all cities and municipalities of Pampanga.

… Claudio said Pampanga is the only province in Central Luzon who (sic) used to provide dump trucks to local government units…

So reported the provincial information office of Monday’s initial distribution by Gov. Lilia G. Pineda and Vice Gov. Dennis Pineda of dump trucks to 18 LGUs “for the effective implementation of the solid waste management program of the province.”

Maybe, just for some insurance, the mayors – upon the initiative of their league president, Lubao’s Mylyn Pineda-Cayabyab -- signed a memorandum of agreement for the maintenance of the heavy vehicles. The governor enjoining them to “take good care and properly maintain the dump trucks so the use could be maximized for the proper handling and hauling of collected garbage in the respective towns and cities.”

While we join Claudio in her ebullience over the Capitol’s truly remarkable stride in the direction of solid waste management, we – just the same – would like to remind her office of its apparent failure in Pampanga to live up to its very name – environment management.

Even as industrial pollution has remained a constant in San Simon, new reports are emerging of swarms of flies – from the tiniest langaw to the biggest bangaw – germinating in some bakahan ­– invading whole communities.

It is no exaggeration, not a few attest to its factuality, that a body lying in state had to be put under a mosquito net else it would be totally covered with flies.

So what has Claudio to say on this?

San Simon

And yes, didn’t Claudio herself – in February last year – tag San Simon as the only Pampanga town included in 10 Central Luzon LGUs haled to the Ombudsman by EMB for violation of Republic Act 9003 or the Ecological Solid Waste Management Act?

“The 10 towns had been repeatedly directed to comply with RA 9003 down to the barangay level, ensure the operation of materials recovery facilities, and enact ordinances to compel residents to adhere to the law,” so was Claudio quoted in a news story then.

Furthered she: “Aside from filing charges, we have implemented the forced closure of dumpsites in Mariveles, General Tinio, Jaen, and San Simon by securing the area to prevent further activities of dumping of wastes.”

Last thing I remember of that issue is the San Simon mayor denying any dumpsite operating in the area. Absuelto na po ba, Madame Claudio?

By no means was San Simon the only Pampanga town with a dumpsite, Mayor what’s-her-name Wong’s denial, notwithstanding.    

Bishop Ambo

No less than then-San Fernando Auxiliary Bishop Pablo Virgilio David said “dumpsites are everywhere” in the province.

Dared Bishop Ambo any denier then: “My group can give you a guided tour where the dump sites of Pampanga are. Every LGU has one.”
Indeed, the EMB in an order Claudio herself signed on January 17, 2011 recommended the “execution of closure orders” on open dumpsites in 16 areas in Pampanga including the cities of San Fernando and Angeles for gross violation of Republic Act 9003 or the Ecological Solid Waste Management Act of 2001.
The order was explicit in saying “…the LGUs failed to truly demonstrate their will to close the existing open and controlled dumpsites…”
In October 2012, a composite group of the EMB, the provincial environment and natural resources office and the Alliance for the Development of Central Luzon represented by the environmentalist Alfonso Dobles conducted an inspection of the dumpsites in Pampanga.

Hospital wastes

Among its findings: the Guagua dumpsite near a water body hosted hospital wastes – used syringes, bloodied bandages, plastic dextrose bottles and tubes, etc. – and the burning of garbage was a regular activity; unsegregated garbage is indiscriminately buried in the quarry sites of Barangays Manuali and Mitla in Porac; in Mabalacat, the LGU’s  central material recovery facility in Barangay Sapang Balen was “nothing but a sawali-fenced area surrounded by sacks of plastics and in the center lay unsorted garbage” and “a few meters away from the Subic-Clark-Tarlac Expressway, a pile of fresh garbage is pushed into a body of water that had turn black because of the decaying trash, waiting for bulldozer to cover it with sand.”
Concluded the inspection team then: “…12 years since the enactment of the Ecological Solid Waste Management Act of 2000 (RA 9003), local government units in Pampanga continue to use and operate dumpsites despite its prohibition and despite the legal mandate that the LGUs shall be primarily responsible for the implementation and enforcement of this act.”
That: “The LGUs have likewise shirked their responsibility in the management, improvement and maintenance of water and air quality within their territorial jurisdictions.”

Fast track to Claudio’s exuberance at Monday’s turnover of dump trucks at the Capitol now: Madame, what happened na po?

Judas ends with a bang

IN FIERY red pants and long-sleeved high-collared shirt a la Elvis taking over the flowing robe of his time.
Short cropped hair a la early Beatles, and sideburns straight from King FPJ himself.
Mick Jagger tongue, yeah that same one hanging from wide open puffed lips that has become the trademark of the now-geriatric-but-still-rocking Rolling Stones.
There is nothing biblical in the countenance and appearance of the Judas on-a-perch at the center of the courtyard of the St. Thomas the Apostle parish church in barrio Poblacion of the eponymously named town. He looked more like a puppet from some Punch-and-Judy show. But the throng, nay, the horde of faithful do not mind at all.
That was the Judas the elders have seen since their youth. The Judas now passed to their sons and grandsons, and to be passed on to their own progenies.
Easter Sunday noon has always been the designated time for the Judas show. But the concelebrated Mass traditionally officiated by the archbishop almost always takes a little too long with all those post-communion remarks of the pastoral council president and the awarding of some certificates of appreciation to the comite de festejos, Easter being the fiesta too.

The tensed uneasiness turns to collective relief, and explosions of joy, at the pealing of the church bells, the music from the band, and the explosion of kuwitis that signalthe end of the Mass.
Some more minutes of waiting had to be endured as the patio gets cleared of the parked vehicles.
Then some firecrackers woven in large sipa ball-like contraption are let loose around the platform holding Judas’ perch to clear it of people. To establish a sort of a safety zone.
Then, the show starts.
Four papier-mache pyrotechnic black ravens from four corners of the platform “peck” at Judas’ feet igniting them and propelling Judas to make dizzying twists clockwise and counterclockwise, then turns upside down, round and round, the tongue sticking in and out.
Then the explosions begin with the feet, the legs, the hand and arms – the head last, and loudest.
Judas gets blasted to smithereens. In all of 15 minutes. A murmur of disappointment. Judas did fewer twists and turns. His tongue did not stick out that long. And the head exploded too soon and not too loud, as the crowd desired.
In years long past, this would have borne an ill omen. The loudness of the bang ending Judas then deemed a sign of the volume of the year’s harvest in the then-farming town: the louder the bang, the higher the yield.
In 2012, instead of Judas, what exploded on Easter Sunday noon was a globe. No, it was not meant to signify the end of the world, not to presage any interpretation of the Mayan calendar that purportedly pointed to that year as the end for humankind.  
What was blasted away, symbolically, were the worldly sins, those that keep mankind away from God. It was some sort of raising the event from pure vengeful glee to a higher level of spirituality.
Whatever, the loss of Judas at the scaffold unsettled, utterly disappointed the loyal crowd who, year-in and year-out, come from near and far – even from overseas – just to be part of the annual spectacle.
With Judas back for blasting, all is well again here. 

The Judas retreat

A RETREAT is just what we needed.

So proposed the holier among us unholy in that brotherhood variably called ex-sems and ex-cons for the longest time, but since last year – per the imprimatur of the archbishop emeritus, the beloved Apu Ceto – came to bear the ennobling moniker “non-ordained alumni” of the Mater Boni Consilii Seminary.

So a retreat it shall be this Holy Wednesday at the chapel of the Domus Pastorum, the home of retired priests that has served, for some years now, as the locus for our monthly fellowship with our former formators.

Expectedly, excitement over reliving, if only for a day, what was integral to our seminary years, burned our Facebook page. Principally coming from those among us who have extended their youthful vocation to their adult “ministries,” i.e. the EMDCs, the Lecoms, the ANFs, and other church organizations.

Yeah, so much they have been sharing about “uplifting the spirit,” “revitalizing the soul,” “deepening spirituality,” that this retreat would “most certainly” impact in each one of us “bettering our relationship with God.”

Me? I can only look back to our last retreat, over four years ago, that somehow circumvented conservative conventions meriting an essay here tagged:

Confessing Judas

MANY WERE called, only seven responded.

As it was with our early vocation at the Mater Boni Consilii Seminary where we ended unchosen, so it was with our planned retreat at a Fontana villa last Friday (March 29, 2013).

Still, this did not detract us from our pursuit for some spiritual advancement, with the Rev. Fr. Cito Carlos as most able guide.

The Mass Among Charlie celebrated was beautiful in its simplicity. His homily though seared our very soul. It was all about Judas, eternally damned antagonist in the drama of Christian salvation. 

“I do not approve of the Holy Week tradition of blasting Judas in effigy. It rankles of vengeance which is most un-Christian,” he said, even as he hastened that he had no intention of justifying Judas’ betrayal.

An “expanded perspective to draw some lessons, if not inspiration, from,” he said of his take on the kissing-betrayer, which he admitted he drew from our pre-Mass pleasantries on how he came to be our retreat master.

He chuckled upon learning he was the fourth priest we approached to conduct our retreat, all the other three deeming we were beyond salvation, only half-jokingly. Hence the Judas model – not for us to emulate but to learn from.

“Yes, Judas made a deal with the chief priests for 30 pieces of silver to deliver Jesus to them but on condition that he should not be harmed,” Among Charlie reminded us. “The deal went sour when Jesus was lashed, scourged, and inflicted with all sorts of pain and insults.”

So, Judas wanted out of the deal by returning to the priests the payment, woefully sorry for what he had done.      

Indeed, Matthew 27:3-5: “Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, ‘I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.’ And they said, ‘What is that to us? See thou to that.’ And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed, and went and hanged himself.”

Suicide is abominable in the eyes of God. So, Judas compounded his already most heinous crime of betraying the Son of God by killing himself.

But did Judas really hang himself in remorse for what he did?

Acts 1:18-19: “Now this man purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong, he burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out. And it was known unto all the dwellers at Jerusalem; insomuch as that field is called in their proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, the field of blood.”

Some apparent contradiction there with Matthew 27:3-5 on the death of Judas and the place of circumstance, which the succeeding verses – Matthew 27:6-8 – had as: “And the chief priests took the silver pieces, and said, ‘It is not lawful for us to put them into the treasury, because it is the price of blood.’ And they took counsel, and bought with them the potter's field, to bury strangers in. Wherefore that field was called, the field of blood, unto this day.”

Need to find some gospel harmonist to synthesize those seeming contradictions.

My seminary brother Boiti Portugal took a tack different from mine in our reflection on Judas: “My mind... is in darkness! My God... God, I'm sick! I've been used! And you knew! You knew all the time! God, I will never know why you chose me for your crime! Your foul, bloody crime! My God, you have murdered me! Murdered me! Murdered me! Murdered me! Murdered me! Murdered...”

Not from Matthew, Luke, Mark or John, not even from Paul, but from Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice – the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar.

Yeah, instantly came to mind there the doggone dogma of an agnostic past: “Without Judas there is no salvation.” As instantly denounced as extreme unorthodoxy, twisted theology, damned heresy.

So, dare we flirted with some things far beyond our theological limits. When we lacked the simple courage to go to confession!

One of the guys, I think it was Boss Tayag, asked if we could just write down our sins on paper to be read in silencio by Among Charlie and burned after the Confiteor. The smoke of our contrition rising to the heavens there.

On the other hand, tech-savvy as he is, Ashley Manabat suggested we just text Among our sins and he would text back to us his absolution and our penance. E-confession, anyone?

Aye, verily doing a St. Augustine in his own Confessions we were all there: “Da mihi castitatem et continentiam, sed noli modo (Give me chastity and continence, but not just yet)!” 

In the end, Among Charlie issued a general absolution – with the condition that we should go to confession at the earliest time possible.

And everybody went to communion. But me. Unable, unwilling to let go of Judas. As yet.        

 

 

Destroy the Church? What nut!

 "THAT RELIGION will become passé in the next 30 years. Lalong lalabas na ang mga abuses nila."

So what else is new in this recentmost of the spastic ululations of President Duterte against the Catholic Church? Why, it comes even tamer compared to his previous excretory ejaculations at the Church, and has none of the arrogance of his campaign vow: “I will destroy the Catholic Church!”

Passé in 30 years. A destroyed Catholic Church. Fortunately for us the faithful, neither God – at least ours in the Church – nor history takes Duterte’s side of his irreligious divide. As propounded in our Zona Libre piece dated Sunday, May 29, 2016:

Destroy the Church? What nut! 

DEFENSELESS ROME at the mercy of the rampaging barbarian horde, the seat of Christendom ready for the sacking, for scorching, for reduction to rubble.

The populace cowering in terror, their armies having long abandoned them to the slaughter. Who stands against the impending mayhem and murder? None but the Santo Papa, in his full papal regalia meeting the Barbaro at the very gates of the Holy City. Whereupon heaven opens, San Miguel Arcangel with flaming sword descending, scaring the wits out of the invaders. And Iglesia Catolica Apostolica Romana was saved.

The earliest tale of the invincibility of the Catholic Church I heard from my maternal grandmother, Rita Pineda Canlas vda. de Zapata, as part of my catechetical studies at age 4.

It did not matter that my Apu Rita did not even know the characters in the story, neither did she care of its veracity. All that counted was that it came from the cura parroco of her youth, the saintly Padre Daniel and served as an affirming moment of her Faith. And assured that I, her beloved apo, believed and would live up to that Faith.

I was already in high school, in the seminary, when grandma’s story found flesh in the encounter of Attila the Hun and Pope Leo I at Mincio – outside Rome – where the pontiff successfully convinced “the scourge of God” to withdraw from all of Italy. No Archangel Michael appearing in the clouds there, but “divine intervention” still cited – at least by my History professor Ciso Tantingco – in the famine and disasters visited upon the Hun tribes that gave Attila the scare to call off his invasion and plunder of Rome.

In those formative years, Attila’s story made one manifestation of gospel truth on the impregnability of the Church, as in Matthew 16:18: “And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

Thus, the Church not only surviving but triumphing over every persecution, its persecutors cast to damnation: from its earliest days in the pagan Rome of Nero onto Diocletian and Galerius, to the Visigoths of Alaric, from the reign of empires and authoritarianism, to the spectre of communism. 

Stalin

“The Pope! How many divisions has he got?” Famously, and haughtily, asked Stalin dismissing the relevance of the Vatican in the post-WWII restructuring of Europe.

Less famously but as disdainfully, he told Churchill: “God is on your side? Is He a Conservative? The Devil's on my side, he's a good Communist.”

But, apparently, not good enough when it comes to sustainability: Stalin’s pride -- the monolith that was the USSR – totally disintegrating on its 74^th year. Though outliving the Soviet supremo by 38 years. 

Afflicted with the worst case of odium fidei – hatred of the Faith – was Hitler who subjected Catholics – second only to the Jews – to his persecutory perversity. The Church having stood up and spoke against the Fuehrer even at the very beginning of his ascendancy.

History still holds that Hitler ended a suicide in a bunker under the rubble of Berlin; his thousand-year Reich lasting but a decade.

Truly, G.K. Chesterton with his usual paradox: “Faith is always at a disadvantage; it is a perpetually defeated thing which survives all its conquerors.”

Indeed, as that anecdote -- currently trending in the web – of Napoleon boasting to a Cardinal how, if he, Bonaparte, so desired, could destroy the Catholic Church in an instant. And the Cardinal responding with a laugh: “We the clergy, with our sins and stupidity have been trying to destroy the Church for 1,800 years. What makes you think you can do better?”

That the Church has not imploded with all the vicious battering from within, incessant through the ages – from the heresies to the schisms, the forgeries, the decadence of the medieval papacy finding its zenith in the depravity of Alexander VI, the excesses of the Inquisition, the impact of the Reformation, all the way down to the cases of priestly paedophilia – can only bespeak of, aye, witness to, its divine foundation.

The Rock

Taking on Matthew 16:18, St. Augustine wrote in Interpreting John’s Gospel:

“Peter, because he was the first apostle, represented the person of the church by synecdoche…(W)hen he was told ‘I will give you the keys of heaven’s kingdom…’ he was standing for the entire church, which does not collapse though it is beaten, in this world, by every kind of trial, as if by rain, flood and tempest. It is founded on a Stone [Petra], from which Peter took his name Stone-Founded [Peter] – for the Stone did not take its name from the Stone-Founded but the Stone-Founded from the Stone…because the Stone was Christ.”       

How providential for this to be written on Corpus Christi Sunday, imbuing a deeply personal meaning to that truth long revealed and ever revealing: The Church is the Body of Christ. We are the Church. We are the Body of Christ.

Then, who can be against us? Indeed, not even the devil can destroy us?

Lest I lapse into some Catholic conceit, and dare all self-proclaimed wanna-be-destroyers of the Church to “Bring it On,” let me just leave it to Luke 1:52: “He hath put down the mighty from their seat, he hath exalted the humble.” 

The arrogance of power. Hubris, it is called in Greek tragedy. Finding its full meaning in Proverbs 16:18: “Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.”

So shall it come to pass. Have faith.