The Asian Congress at the Kadayawan

I had the fear that Davao might be the spillover of the military’s offensive against the MILF rebels. But the contrast of Mayor Duterte’s infamous security blanket encouraged me to go on with my attendance to the 1^st International Conference of the Asian Congress of Media and Communication (ACMC), considering that I already wired my registration fee, booked my flight, and there was the lingering guilt that if I retract I woukd break my promise to assume an important role in the conference.

My fears were allayed when I set afoot Davao International Airport, which was definitely better than Tagbilaran’s and Puerto Princesa’s. When the conference started I all forgot about the threat brewing in the South.

The conference centered on the role of media and communication in the discussion of human rights. Rightly so, Alan Davis, a London-based journalist who is currently affiliated with an NGO that monitors human rights cases, gave the keynote speech. I could not forget his emphasis on the preferred behavior of journalists who are human beings before professionals. He gleaned that objectivity in news is not necessarily compromised by expressing a journalist’s sense of “humanity” or “subjectivity” (to a certain extent) when dealing with sensitive human rights cases.

A series of plenary speakers provided more insights, most noteworthy of them for me was Rachel Khan. I like the way she responded to my question on Reuter’s dictum today that “No news is worth dying for.” She said that the dictum is not in conflict with the search for “truth” because the journalist could simply raise awareness on a controversial issue and let more “powerful” stakeholders take the cudgels and battle it out so to speak. Expectedly witty was Dr. Isagani Cruz who clarified that the Philippines is not the third largest English speaking country. According to him, nowhere in the world has recognized this except the website of our embassies. We are actually the 5^th; if I heard it right India and Nigeria are ahead of us. His talk, however, focused on the impetus recognizing the “Filipino English” and the challenge of “colonizing English”.

I learned that my panel on “Imaging Women” with fellow young communication scholars had the most number of attendees. Our panel tackled the political economy of women’s portrayals in sitcoms, “Other-ness” in the representation of Thailand as a sex tourist destination, the most gender-sensitive films of the Metro Manila Film Festival, and women in better light

I had newfound friends: Fatima of Lyceum who told me to teach in her university too, Dr. Lea from Zamboanga who invited me to give a talk in her school soon, Joanne of Ateneo de Davao who accommodated most of my requests, Dan Cantal, Communications chair of Trinity U and my roommate, my flight-mate John Wigley of UST, and rekindled friendships with Gwen Pusta,Walter Yudelmo of FEU, among others.

But more memorable is the bonding I had with Ma’am Beth Naui and Smith from Chulalongkorn U. Showing our version of Filipino hospitality, we treated Smith in an unknown restaurant. Smith was so polite to say that the food is okay but Beth and I knew that there is better pork sinigang than what was served us. Despite this, we still had a lively tête-à-tête over dinner ranging from politics to our lives.

Smith who questioned how British media misrepresented Thailand as a sex spot shares with me some commonalities like the similar anchor on political economy of our papers, our passion for teaching, and penchant to go to massage spas. It was just unfortunate that he had to return to Thailand the day after his paper presentation. If time permits, Beth and I will visit him in Bangkok in February next year.

The ACMC’s schedule was timely for the Kadayawan Festival. Much touted, it featured the “indakan” and float parade as students all over Davao strutted on the streets in their colorful and ethnic-inspired costumes. Like a true-bloodied tourist, we did not miss the festival, took snapshots, and feasted on the spectacles.

Noticeably, the Davaoeños were very polite. In the market stalls, they cleared the way so we could pass, a sign of how they highly value tourists. The food and accommodation are not pricey so local tourists like us had our money’s worth. We were also able to walk in the streets without fear of muggers, a proof that Davao is indeed one of the safest cities in the country. The only spark of threat I noticed was when I saw a group of adolescents who shouted some invectives against some emos crossing the street.

I will go back to Davao, this time for sheer leisure because I did not have the chance to visit some tourist spots. Some must-haves the second time around: the grilled fresh fish at P25 each, the good massage (combination of Thai, shiatsu, and Swedish), the suburban ambience that provides balance between rural and cosmopolitan life, and the festivity that conveys our rich Filipino heritage.

The crying groom; the martyr girlfriend

THIS IS A STORY about two individuals with two interesting love anecdotes. The first one just got married at Sanctuario de Antonio in Makati and the other one just broke up with her “boyfriend”.

I witnessed the expressions of love and I cannot help but share them with readers of my blog. I believe that the lessons are insightful for someone who enjoys scrutiny of gender politics like me, for those facing the same situation, and for anyone who believes in love despite its paradoxes.

Their names are withheld for privacy.

The first half of the title is “The crying groom” because it was the first time of my life to see that the groom was more emotional than the bride. He was so emotional that it almost crossed the borders of light comedy.

He walked confidently and looked gallantly in his tuxedo as his parents accompanied him to the altar. The wedding coordinator was walking briskly from front to back just to ensure the smooth run of the processional. The crowd was excited to see the entry of the bride—who was expected to exude beauty and elegance—for being the central character of the entourage that looked so expensive in their brown and rusted orange motif.

The violin’s melody lorded over the airwaves. Everyone panned his or her head to see the entrance of the bride. She was statuesque in her gown and there was a sparkle in her face. Her mom and brother locked their arms with her. When she reached the altar, she kissed her mom and mom-in-law. The groom did the same: he kissed his mom-in-law and embraced his bro-in-law as if they are best of friends. There and then I noticed that the groom was already teary-eyed.

One part of the wedding ceremonies was a brief speech. The officiating priest asked the couple to express a verbal vow aside from the usual, “Take this as a sign of my love and loyalty” or the very succinct but loaded “I do.” The bride started it. Paraphrasing it, she said that she would always be there for him. She was calm and smiling, her face aglow with happiness. When it was the groom’s turn, he was saying, “I promise to take care of…” when he became less intelligible. He was muttering his vow as tears welled from his eyes. The bride was smiling, more of an expression of disbelief that her husband is more emotional. She wiped his tears as if she assured him that the feeling is mutual and everything is fine. Then they embraced each other.

Climax of the ceremony: The newly wed couple kissed and then they tightly embraced. The intensity of emotions was undoubtedly euphoric.

A week before the wedding, I had a chat with the groom when he handed me down the invitation. I asked him, “Why are you getting married?” He said jokingly, “She insistently courted me,” as if it was the bride who initiated it all.

I understand that a wedding is usually construed as more important for the bride, more of her celebration. You will usually notice that she is usually more excited and busier than the groom. The camera zooms in on: Her gown, pair of shoes, bouquet, etc. The groom does not receive the same camera treatment, angle, or exposure.

Of course weddings are mutually beneficial for both parties. I do not have qualms about that. But when the groom cried, to a certain extent, he reversed the dichotomy of Deborah Tannen’s genderlect that a woman seeks connection while a man seeks authority. I am happy about this “role reversal” or better yet, “overlapping roles”.

When a man has a higher degree of love for a woman or exerts more effort to keep the family beyond the required mutual love and concern, I believe that the relationship will turn stronger. Connection is second nature to women; by hook or by crook, a traditional woman will do her best to preserve the family. Thus, the newly wed couple is off to a stronger family since the groom manifested a deeper sense of responsibility by exhibiting a more intense emotion that is opposite the socialized behavior of traditional men. In essence, he provides a better part of the equation since he is in synch with the bride’s traditional nurturing role.

May their love continue to grow given the fact that it is already anchored on a strong foundation. This I will observe with utmost optimism.

* * * * * * * * * * *

THIS IS LONG OVERDUE. Maybe, this is now moot and academic. But I am still posting it because this blog is a requested analysis of the situation. I hope it can help those who are into the same dilemma.

The girl cannot get over it. She received a text message from an unknown woman who told her to leave her husband alone. She was dumbfounded. She regained her composure and replied, “Don’t worry, I am a decent girl. I did not know anything about it. He is all yours.” Then she cried a river.

The relationship started serendipitously. It was romance at the right time, at the right place. (I cannot detail it to keep the identity of the concerned persons).

The guy is sweet and a gentleman who visited her at home as a sign of high respect to her parents. His presence can command authority. He has a good posture and a friendly smile. He looks timid but deep inside is a volcano of mystery. He seems to have an inherent “gallantry” because of his profession, a surefire magnet of women.

The girl is lovable, sweet, very understanding, very loyal, and family-oriented. She has a strong personality and thinks with substance and élan. But when she falls in love she clings to it and has difficulty moving on.

As far as I know, they only had a mutual understanding; almost there but not quite. This is because the guy’s mission demands much of his time. What only keeps them together is through mediated communication and the ideals that “absence makes love grow fonder” and “love is patient; it has sacrifices.”

Quality of sacrifice

However, the quality of sacrifice and the circumstances that embed the dynamics of their relationship lay the root of the problem. My insights, of course, are based on what was revealed to me.

I have always told the girl that a man who truly loves his partner would not frequently test her loyalty because this breeds insecurity and distrust. Taking the man’s perspective, however, it is in casting doubt that a man can affirm, reaffirm or disconfirm the emotional attachment. Since their connection is through SMS and phone calls where facial expressions that better mirror sincerity are absent, then the guy, by his own definition, has rationale for his actions.

The goal of confirming the degree of love is understandable. But the means to this end, in my opinion, is torture. To fabricate facts that he (the guy lover) is married just to assess the girl’s reaction is too much (assuming that the retraction of the news about marriage is really fictitious). It caused emotional pain on the part of the girl who thought that all along she was cheated and she could have mislabeled herself as an unknowing mistress.

Analysis based on sheer logic dictates that the guy has a quirk that is quite difficult to fathom even in the context of a catch-chase relationship. It is a clear example of a romanticized psychological warfare that can cause nervous breakdown for a very neophyte apprentice of love like the girl.

Effects on others

I think both have already reaffirmed their love. The softened voice during phone conversations is searing in romance like a teenager who whispers “I love you” while in the seated on the sofa beside her parents who are not yet prepared to see her falling in love at a young age. But the sweetness takes an overturn when the soft voice suddenly increases in pace and volume plus the sudden rush to a secluded area just so the girl’s friends would not hear the heated conversation.

While love is bittersweet, it is confusing for the girl’s friends to see her in silent pain. When the girl calls you up and bursts with tears because of him, a conscientious friend could not say “no” even if the friend already said his piece about the relationship. It is difficult to advise someone who is still engulfed by the mystery of love. But what she should realize is while love involves risks, the calculation should be more careful and be made earlier before the dawn of any irreparable damage – emotionally and psychologically. Because if this happens caring friends share with the burden. However, I hope the girl does not feel offended the moment the friends keep mum about her complaints because it is not unlikely for her to receive this retort: “I told you, you did not listen.”

Expected maturity

The lovers are already in their mid-20s and I think they are no longer young to play the catch-chase setup. Clarification: I am not The Grinch or even Ebenezer Scrooge of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol who abhors the thrills of Christmas or maybe even the colors of love. But come on, this age bracket I think should already be off the catch-chase relationship. I agree this is purely a mental analysis (assuming the heart can analyze too) but when the heart refuses to see the other side of the coin, the mental analysis might be able to shed light on the conflict.

Maturity, in this sense, refers to the ability to delineate what is tolerable versus what is already too much. Yes, forgiving his shortcomings is the springboard of a deeper understanding. But wait. Even forgiveness can be abused especially with a sugarcoated tongue. As my favorite author Ayn Rand said, “Martyrdom is toleration of your adversary. They are not enemies but the act of the guy is villainous; the girl is a willing victim. The girl should therefore realize when to say enough is enough. But then again, at the end of the day, advices are just advices. The decision is still the girl’s. I fully understand where the girl is coming from. There is a social exchange value in the relationship. Painful and uncertain it may be, to some extent, she gains the feeling of being appreciated and she experiences the magic of love that seldom cascades into our lives.

Epilogue?

For now, the gush of emotions is unstoppable. But on a final note, maybe it pays to recall Dory in Finding Nemo: “…Follow your heart wherever it leads you and when you reach a dead end or whenever you are lost, use your brain to bring you back home.”

Your friends will wait for you as you float in the clouds but neither lose your wings nor feet while you are up. Because you need these on your way down.

Unfinished Business

Time to finish "The Fountainhead" ...

Reggae Politics

I'm still recovering from a hangover from that Mall of Asia Drinking session last night, that was really fun! Yet another blog that involves alcohol. Watching my old uncle Pepe Smith rocking really got me thinking (and this happens few and far between, the thinking I mean): here's a literal national treasure of the Philippine Music industry barely able to sing nay speak and he's still giving a 110% level of performance, you gotta give him respect. In spite of the gay gyrating and barely audible singing he is still a rock god since nobody comes close to his guitar skills.

I am just saddened that some people do not give him the respect he's due, maybe it's the over the top antics that he performs on stage or the now lacking vocal presence that relegates him to a mere shadow of what he once was. But he knows how to perform and entertain... one person in the audience shouted "mabuhay ang mga patay!!!" ever witty Pepe answered him in all seriousness "problema mo na yun!" that hardly made any sense but it was damn funny.
(Another funny moment was when he was cussing out the technical crew when he was having some trouble with their equipment. While trying to do a guitar solo he was kicking the amp and saying "tang$#@ niyo" honestly it was amusing crass but amusing)

While Pepe will never cease to amuse and impress me, there was this small phenomena that did get my attention, it's the whole new Filipino Reggae movement that seems to be overblown. It's quite tragic really, if memory serves me right this movement was featured in one of the news/magazine shows in one of the 2 primetime networks. One tenured muscician (i.e. old drugged up rocker) was commenting (i.e. bitching) how this is not a new phenomena and how he was dismayed by all the posers.

And I agree with him, yes it's an emerging sub-culture within the music industry (PapaDom of Tropical Depression may have been it's pioneer and poster boy but he's the real deal) but these new generation of so-called "rastafarians" (for the love of God they're not even black) don't even know the whle Philosophy and lifestyle behing Reggae... Children, wearing a Bob Marley t-shirt, beach sandals, pajamas and getting high as a Fu%$#@ing kite does not make you a true "rastaman". Doing covers of Peter Tosh and shouting "Legalize It" is just the tip of the Reggae iceberg.

PLEASE BEFORE YOU GET INTO SOMETHING KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GETTING YOURSELF INTO:

True Reggae has some fundamental ideals which are being bastardized by Filipinos:

First expression against oppresion and establishment. Sadly it has been commercilized and now all the t-shirts and accessories that these "rastas" buy is out making some little Fil-Chinese guy rich. They are just blindly patronizing "the man". This music like capoeria is a result of trying to raise the political consciousness and awareness of the people behind it.

By the way this includes the religious establishment! So please rosaries and dreads don't go together. Reggae communes with God in the traditional way - WITH DRUGS/DUTCHIE! (for those who do not know the historical significance of drugs and religion talk to me).

Half the people claiming to be rastafarians have never faced oppression. The other half is Godless.

Thank you Mr. Deante Canard Fontaine for that info ... you still have the best dutchie.

Second the irony of irony is... heheheheheh and get ready for this it's really funny, DANCEHALL REGGAE IS A HOMOPHOBIC MOVEMENT!!! So if you're gay, wearing dreads and wearing Jamaican colors, you're making a statement for gay rights OR you didn't know in the first place that if you were in Jamaica you'd get beaten to a bloody pulp.

Lastly although the theme of Reggae is Universal it does promote change, awakening and evolution, there is no change or growth if the music played here are either "covers" or generic anthems.

*******************

Now here's the clincher, the idea of political awakening through indeginous music is nothing new in our country... Joey Ayala and his contemporaries should be given more exposure in this country than generic reggae. Plus the fact the Joey Ayala addresses enviormental issues and grassroots level cultural problems means he's more idealized. As a movement in Filipino Music, he should be given more coverage, credance and respect.

NOW THAT'S A POLITICAL STATEMENT!

San Miguel My Patron Saint

I often wondered why the Country's best writers manage to become the poster boys of San Miguel Beer pale pilsen. If memory serves me correctly Nick Joaquin and my old professor Jess Cruz (Palanca awardees) both swear by the product.

After a lengthy and cheerless training session with the new company I'm working with I had a few drinks with some newfound friends. Please take note friends. Ron, Tyn, Pic and Alex have now been elevated from mere acquintances to honest to goodness friends. And I find it amusing that the unifying factor that brought us together was our common irritation for the two most eccentric (read as immature/idiotic/uneducated) people in our training class.

But enough of matters of little consequece (the 2 irritants I mean) and on to my patron saint. A small voice in my head told me to order Pale Pilsen rather than the usual Light version... Was it the rustic backdrop of the kubo-kubo beer joint in Don Antonio or my current obsession with reminicing old meories that brought about this sudden change in alcoholic preference... who knows all I know is that when it's pale Pilsen it feels better and my stream of consciousness never felt so lucid.

***

I'll keep the major epiphanies to myself for now... sorry, but at that point I knew why these writers love SMB so much. First when everybody is so drunk, a lot of lips get loose, and no it does not sink ships but it makes for great conversation. This may or may not inspire to you to write critically acclaimed novels but in a span of three hours you get wit, humor and drama all roled into a nice sizzling sisig package. Second alcohol makes you relax, and it goes without saying that it creates a conjusive enviorment for writing, if all your ideas resemble government red tape , pale pilsen has this amazing ability to straighten your head out. You can only think of one thing at a time.... this includes walking and talking. So all your thoughts form a neat little line that does not clog your head with sheer volume. Lastly, pale pilsen when taken copiously throws your libido out the window... without sex constatnly dictating your every whim and motive it is easier to turn your attention more creative and important matters.

The scary part is alcohol is very fattening and addictive... I have to look for other means of gratifying myself.

Cheers Nick Joaquin and Jess Cruz you've taught me something very valuable today...

Talk Dirty to Me

I finally decided to get off my fat ass and create a blog...

It's quite strange that I'm doing this for less than noble and less than sophisticated reasons. Quite frankly it's to make the headaches go away. Let's begin shall we???

It finally happened, I got fed up with dumbing down for the past two weeks interacting with some of the training class I'm with. I don't think I'll be hanging around with some of these people thank you. And when I say "thank you" what I really mean is "P&^%$#ang-Ina niyo" I would have had a better time sticking my head in the backside of a rabid horse while having my testicles ripped out by an angry mob of midgets all the while Mahmoud the slave sodomizes me. (With some notable exceptions of course). I've seen more intelligence demonstrated in a bad episode of Kris Aquino's "Deal or No Deal" on reefers. If suddenly the HR department suddenly had an epiphany and realized these people won't be able to handle the job at hand, a troupe of herpes infested monkeys with indigestion would do a better job then them.

Children tsk tsk...

Moving on (thank you Marvs) I woke up around 6pm and had this awful craving for sensical conversation. I'm sorry Mr. Castro but with the girlfriend off in Europe, you are one of the few people I know that actually makes any sense (take note "makes sense" not "is intelligent"... but JC is intelligent) hence victim of my whim.

On the way to his pad I had a strange feeling that the cabbie was going to pick up some muggers to to rob and kill me. When I finally arrived JC was watching some TV show, talked about debate celebrieties, blogs and such. What a releif. I still say we are having the typical existential twentysomething crisis on "what to do with your life". (Jesus it sounds like a 70's gameshow or game ka na ba).

Congratulations on your thesis JC, It almost crossed the border on the cliche conclusion that sex sells. But it was simply genius when you showed me that there is no variety in the primetime Filipino comedy show genre. All it shows is smut and skin. (But even given the non-existent alternative I'd still watch Maureen L., Rufa Mae Quinto and Alicia Meyer jiggle their ta-tas.)

HORNY CHINESE BASTARD STRIKES AGAIN.

But seriously I thank JC for the company, I'm looking forward to the movie tomorrow with him and Icebox at the Podium tomorrow.

My parting shot:
Trust first impressions.
Filipino English is overrated.
I'm more interested with what people say than how they speak.