12/21/2009

Bloody Kit

"Are you not afraid?" she asked trying not to look at him, he stood with arms folded, resting the back against one of the emergency room's walls. This girl sat on a wheel chair, half conscious, as if her crying was work, a mark of blood looked like drying at the back of her head, crumpled within the strands of messy hair, a victim of robbery, the wound gashing because accordingly, the thief hit her with a rock.

It must have hurt, but she'll live though' he thought. Even those women in the streets with two or more children looked like they're living through it. He looked back at her, made sure he'd look her in the eyes and see what emotions were there or perhaps, what she was thinking. Was I afraid for the bloodied girl in the wheelchair, or for the most beautiful girl in a wooden chair next to the female doctor who smiled at her? "I am afraid, but we sure should be happy."

The truth was she was there, the woman of his wide and awake life, sitting near him like she used to, but not like she needed to worry about being far from him for a pretty long time.

After a couple of minutes, she called him out and mouthed some words that he thought he understood correctly, "medicine? I'll buy them now? ok," he replied readily. When he realized that it wasn't what she meant, he approached them and asked hesitantly what it was about. "You can buy it outside of the hospital,it's cheaper" the lady doctor with eyeglasses smiled at him too. He wondered what she's so happy about, the doctor.

He woke up in a dream where he wouldn't need anyone to allow him in, not without giving him an idea of what he should or should not do. But this is not about him or any of the invented stories. This gave him much desire and fear and hope and direction, there will be no turning to other matters without taking this, in consideration.

The victimized girl in the wheelchair never uttered a word, she seemed too exhausted to even go through the prelimenary questioning. It was scary indeed, as the red blood seemed to dry up, while I saw the marked line build up so slowly, the sense of my feet on the ground felt no less than a little gash of thin security. I thought I've always known it would happen, but never knew how to react.

"Are you not afraid?" He asked himself while she asked him the very same question, then she let out a little cry, and I hugged her. "I have never felt better, we'll live it through." Like everyone else is happy.

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12/12/2009

A very close encounter

I took the bus right after work, it was around nine in the morning. I knew it was going to be a short trip compared to that Cagayan de Oro-Zamboanga city land trip I endured a couple of years ago that took only fourteen hours but felt like a week without aircondition, without flat roads, and without normal road dusts, only dusts that seemed to feel like sharp pebbles.

It should be a short trip, especially that I was about to meet some very important people. I needed to make it a short, productive and positive visit. I told myself to stay calm and promised to come back in one piece. I wasn't going to make a false impression, but I wasn't planning to NOT give an impression either.

This trip first sounded like a walk in the park, but I know now it wasn't. There wasn't any time in the past that I had to to it, and I think I don't want to and have no plans of doing it again of course.

The trip began approximately two hours from the city to the province's remote port, I lined up to eat at a designated carenderia for all passengers to eat like there's no other option, took the ferry with the bus for another two hours to the other province's remote port. I was then on the same bus for three more hours to the other province's city, something like that.

That totalled to about seven hours, including the time everyone spent eating at strategically placed eateries, the abrupt stops for chicharon, mani, water and delicacy vendors to step inside the bus to sell, if fortunate, and if fortunate still, out of the bus to get off. Though I thought the stops were more significant for people to take a leek.

I've always made sure to spend my time travelling doing something fun and productive like sleeping, but the relentless thinking prevented me from doing so. Just hours away from a very close encounter, the immininent talks on joyful subjects like labor, change and marriage, perhaps gave me more reason to keep awake.

So I sat on the bus, sat on the ferry, ate chicharon and forgot to buy water- thinking of everything else but those, while looking at the mountains or goats.

Interesting how I noticed the evolution of landscape from one remote port to one main city and vice versa.

All sorroundings change from point to point. For example, population increases as you near the city. If you place a mid point from the remote port and the designated city, in both provinces, population increases away from that midpoint.

Though there should be less population and pollution in the remote port than its city, one can see how people's use of wood, straws and nipa decreases, and how people's use of concrete, plastics and metal increases.

So I guess the more people there is, the more chances of overpopulation, and most likely, pollution.

Interestingly, the size of public transportations decreases as you near the city too, as you've noticed. I knew I was about 60-70 kilometers away from the main city once I saw a mini public bus parked along a nipa hut. Maybe it goes something like from those huge yellow aircondition buses to a mini bus, to an supersized jeepney, to a regular 16 seat jeepney, to a smaller 12 seater multicab, to a taxi, to a tricycle, to a motor habal habal, to a pedicab, to an elevator and to a button on a computer mouse.

This looks to be turning into a very long post, given that i've already skipped writing on how it began, to where it ended, then again started. The how it came to be, and how it was made to be, and how it was known, and how she did and reacted.

I'll just name this part 1, mami.

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11/30/2009

Ampatuan

I had a classmate once named Ampatuan, we called him just that, Ampatuan. I think he was reasonable, he paid us some good money to do his thesis. Though I have no idea if he's part of the clan in Maguindanao, I'd assume he'd have to stay away from there, because most likely, he is clan. Apart from that, I didn't know if he had any significant knowledge, or perhaps part of the incident. I hope not.

The massacre in Maguindanao was shocking to say the least. Too many innocent, dead. It would have been a lot easier to digest if none of the dead were outside of the family. Unfortunately majority of them were, women even.

I read and I heard, spoke about it with a couple of people, thought about it a little. So I blog about it before I forget.

Yesterday, I visited some friends from my own hometown in Mindanao, they were Tausugs ,and they were Muslims. On my way, the taxi driver spoke about the massacre, and how Mindanao was different from the Visayas. He was from Sultan Kudarat, and he said it's ok if I spoke tagalog because he knew after I said my first 2 sentences that my bisaya wasn't natural, and he apologized he knew little Chavacano because I'm from Zamboanga city, which I am, in part.

According to him, the difference is that Killings here in cebu are relentless and senseless, in the streets and in the rural areas. Killings here are most often without purpose, making it more brutal, he implied.

Unlike the blood and clan wars in Mindanao, who knew who were the enemies, before shooting them down one at a time, the murders and gang wars here are just unjustifiable, and stupid.

It kind of made sense, and I nodded to whatever he said, offered my own interpretation on how back home, it's truly rare that murders are done by stabbing people at the back - without letting people know who's done it- there is always a silent code of acknowledgement even without actual confession. It was always personal, and everybody know what's going on. There were some semblance to the stories because I am from Mindanao too, the driver even assumed I was a Muslim, and I knew I know enough and have had enough experience to talk about it.

Arriving at my friend's house, I had the oppurtunity as well to listen to what he hsa to say. He had a different take on the Maguindanao massacre, and said part of it was the other party's own fault.

His revelation did not cross my mind before so I listened. Taking immorality, humanity and barbarity aside perhaps, looking into the political culture and the stronghold of the Ampatuan's business in Maguindanao, it could have gone either way. Not to mention the long and deep rivalry between the two clans - the stern warnings from the Ampatuans versus and the persistence of the victimized family. It was a question of power and territory, of pride and blood. My friend made a case that it was mostly the victim's own doing.

The word he used was "Haragan" which in Chavacano, means a deep and gross "selfishness" or "Gluttony." It was selfishness that brought them in Maguindanao, despite the warning and the imminent threats from the Ampatuans. Maguindanao wasn't their territory, they had no business there, that's just how it should be, and that's how it should be kept. Even if they pretty much knew what they were facing, and they knew that it was a grave possibility, they knew that it could happen, their being "Haragan" did not stop them from marching in.

So they were persistent, to the point of more than 50 dead. My friend almost made it sound like it, that it's the victims who's to be blamed. No, I think he believed they were indeed to be blamed. Unknowingly, I nodded - in agreement? I couldn't say, up to now.

After I stayed in their place, going home today, not surprising me was that I found myself talking with the taxi driver about the very same things. It must be the way I look with the hoodie and the place barangay I stayed in, the Tondo of Cebu, that made people think I had a lot to say about the Ampatuan incident.

Driver talked about how horrible and how important it is to line up all the Ampatuans in death row, kill all, from the ninuno, down to the last male family members who had a possible psychological make-up for the same criminal mind set.

He also spoke on how people kill in Cebu, how senseless it is to join fraternities and just be killed, senselessly. He said he once lead and founded a gang himself, but decided to just work and drive because he wanted to have 'direction.' If it was direction for a meaningful life or direction on streets, I would think it was both.

Was it because the headline today in Cebu is one that says "A gang member was beheaded," it made a lot of sense for him to talk about these. I agreed and nodded to whatever he said, almost to the point of boredom. Most of what they said I had a hard time understanding, he did not understand some things I said I had to repeat them, some of the visayan words did not register in my head, and offered my own obvious repeated opinions as well.

He wasn't done talking even after I stepped out of the taxi.

I watched tv and slept, and dreamt of somebody quietly dying.

I woke up and went on, did not find any reason or interest in finding out more facts on the Ampatuan Killings, the beheaded gang leader, the Mindanao or Visayan killing trends and behaviours - It takes too much energy to try, but one thing I've thought about is if Ampatuan, my old classmate, have learned to write his own thesis.

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11/20/2009

Pacquiao - Cotto Bluburbs

I've gone through almost all pacquiao-cotto/mayweather articles over the net for the last 2 weeks, I just can't get enough of the all the hype in boxing recently. It's not only because I am Filipino and I root for Pacman, though I loss to a bet, a can of soda to one of my insistent work mate, I guess everyone's right saying boxing is back and Pacman and Mayweather should lead bring boxing back the way it used to be.

The intrigue and attention given to Pacquiao's alleged extra curricular romantic activities though I think, was just too much, and here people even start to talk about moral obligation. Pacquiao's not a priest, and being a very well knownpersonality in the Philippines didn't come with such job description. What responsibility are they talking about? Nobody told them to look up to Pacquiao as a father, husband or whatever. I say screw that, who in the hell is society to demand social obligation from someone? especially from someone who has already given more than enough share of his success as a boxer, and with true generosity? He has all the money and all the fame, so just let him be, whether Pacman commits whatever mistake (?) or innanities outside of everybody else's social and moral spectrum, just keep it to yourselves. People are just wasting their mind and effort, going through this, not to mention bringing up unsolicited disctractions and unwanted emotional pains perhaps, to Jinky and whoever.

Anyway, going back, I think Mayweather has been doing great in promoting himself as a popular boxer, acting, and doing the best he can to grab the right amount of attention to take the role of villain as they say. But I think this time, there's no more ducking for him, I bet he's thinking of ways on how to duck Pacquiao to no avail. It would be impossible for Mayweather to avoid this now and not be seen as a coward who couldn't put his 40-0 record on the line. The public wasn't this demanding when he had the better chance to face other opponents whom he ducked successfully, Cotto included. Everyone wants to see the fight, so he better start thinking of that 40-0 record and start training to keep it.

I think Pacquiao's greatness comes from almost all aspect of his game, the work ethic, the mental rigidity, the focus and infallible self-determination. Walking towards the ring, I thought Cotto was just nervous, not so often can you see a boxer, or any high class athlete, come to the face the challenge this way. It's always the serious look and the fighting poker face that you see, so everyone must have thought that this was how one should normally arrive, not knowing that it's only nerves and anxiety and uncertainty that's eating them up. Pacquiao wasn't, I almost thought he was thinking about the next title of his superhero movie while walking towards the ring, I don't know how such world class athletes do it, whether they're about to embark on the biggest fight/game of their lives or whatever. It's just heroic, god-like. Mental toughness at it's purest form.

The fight ended when Cotto knew he couldn't hurt Pacquiao, Pacquiao knew Cotto couldn't hurt him, and when Cotto knew there were just punches that he wouldn't be able to see and might hurt and bring him down. THen he started backing away. It was all over.

Mayweather is all over the place now saying how Pacquiao is not stepping up to the plate and not being a man, saying Pacquiao does not have the balls to challenge Mayweather straight to his face. I didn't think Pacquiao thought about it that way, but i'm pretty sure he'd like to take beat up the pretty boy.

Mayweather is running out of space he better start training - and I hope negotionations will go smoothly, which I doubt, at least it should come to an agreement.

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6/05/2009

Of content

He did try to write down some but couldn't quite put it in the way that it should be put. There is something inexplicably special about how things could not be put and something superficial with something that can be put, that is without meaning. Cliches would be a good rational place to begin with, though that means writing them again will just prove the fact that he was all well and content. He wrote it down like boredom brought it in, not without deleting them without thinking twice.

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