| Only in the Philippines II | Only in the Philippines III | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
THE
LAST CRUCIFIXION OF PAMPANGA CHRIST San Fernando City--When the final nail is driven through his palm on Good Friday, Cutud's resident Kristo for the past 15 years will have completed his vow and retire from his annual rite of penitence. Forty-two-year-old Herocito Sanggalang began his quest for spiritual atonement in 1986, when his mother Hilaria nearly died of tuberculosis. "I vowed to have myself nailed to the cross for the next 15 years in exchange for my mother's recovery," Sanggalang recalls. Through the years, he has made the same vow in exchange for the health and safety of his family. Tomorrow will be his 15th crucifixion. Upon his retirement, Sanggalang will turn over the title of Kristo to Ruben Enaje, a penitent for the past 12 years. Sanggalang is worried because this years Good Friday falls on Friday the 13th. Saanalang said the last time he was crucified on Friday the 13th, the nail he used pierced the bones of his left hand, disabling him for the next few days and keeping him away from his business of selling dried fish. Cutud Barangay captain Zoilo Castro said he is expecting about 20,000 local and foreign tourists to flock to his village to witness the crucifixion. "We have more than a thousand flagellants participating in the event," Castro said.
Money/Democracy THE HUGE pro-Estrada rallies and the storming of the palace by tens of thousands of the former president's supporters bring to the fore the issue of the political maturity of our people. How can up to an estimated 300,000 (millions according to some rally organizers) seriously take the side of a patently corrupt (or one whose concept of morality is on the vague side, according to some of his tolerant friends) and clueless leader? A comprehensive answer will certainly include references to endemic poverty and the desperate tendency of the poor to pin their hopes on celebrities they think they can relate to. It is most unfortunate that glamour politics has allowed even the most incompetent leaders to win office only because of their appeal to the masses. Another principal scourge of our democracy is money politics. For a pittance, voters become captive to the dictates of their political patrons, who comprise a national echelon of traditional politicians. While deeper media penetration in urban centers has shown a general counter-trend, traditional machine politics (including vote buying, thoughtless acquiescence to the amo's wishes, use of force, and tampering of results) is still very much a factor not only in remote areas but in urban pockets dominated by trapos. What are the odds that our democracy will become truly representative and that our elected officials will focus on issues that truly matter? Close to nil for as long as glamour and money politics prevail! Surely, minimizing poverty seems like a logical solution: no more poor, no more of the crowd that will vote for someone like FPJ for president. Unfortunately, poverty and traditional politics feed on each other. You can't really address the issue of poverty without licking the problem of traditional politics, and traditional politics in turn will be around for as long as economic dependence makes the poor politically vulnerable.
Stars
In Their Eyes The fall of Joseph Estrada has done nothing to quench the voters' appetite for celebrity candidates, who are usually short on policy, long on songs. The opening strains of a sugary ballad blast through the quiet of a Philippine night. Drawn by the music and bright lights, a crowd gathers in the dusty courtyard as a young girl belts out a song. Next, six boys in baggy jeans and gelled hair do a passable impression of an MTV-style boy band, dancing in step to a more up-tempo number. This, though, is all just the warm-up for tonight's main act -- a diminutive dark-haired woman who takes the stage and, with microphone in hand, begins to tell the crowd the story of her life. They all know it by heart, but they love to hear it again. How she left school at an early age to sell bags of iced water by the railroad tracks, not far from this very spot. How she travelled to Manila to sing in a talent competition, was spotted by a famous film producer, and groomed to become one of the country's biggest stars. How she won fame and fortune but still cares for the poor. How she wants them to vote for her as governor of Camarines Sur province in national elections on May 14. "Don't think I'm just an actress," says Nora Aunor, a singer, movie star, and one-time mistress of former President Joseph Estrada. "I'm here to serve the people." Then, as she breaks into the Filipino favorite "Wherever You Are," candidates running on the same slate jump up and rush to her side, hoping perhaps that some of the star's movie magic will rub off on them. "Of course I'll vote for Nora, I'm a fan," says Marilou Garay, 39. Garay, who has been following Aunor, 47, all night as she campaigns here in Iriga City, 400 kilometres south of Manila, isn't worried by the total absence of policy detail in Aunor's speeches. "I think she has a big heart, like us, the people," she explains. "She'll learn and I want to give her a chance." This is the face of politics in the Philippines. In recent years, Filipinos have been taking their long-standing obsession with celebrity to new extremes, electing more movie stars, basketball players, and television talk-show hosts to public office than ever before. The rise of this "celebritocracy" isn't as odd as it may first appear: For many poorer voters, the political elite has never delivered real change. At least celebrities offer a little pizzazz, even if they're not so hot on policies. The risk, though, is that Philippine political life will be starved of leaders with real ideas for the reforms that are so desperately needed. Filipinos have always loved their stars. Showbiz gossip columns fill the daily newspapers, B-movie starlets and television sitcom stars become household names overnight, and the love lives of the rich and famous seem to matter more to most people than the government's latest economic projections. "The TV is the most important fixture of a Filipino family's house," says Randy David, a sociologist at the University of the Philippines. "It's a member of the family and so is everyone who comes on the screen." One such member of "the family" was Joseph Estrada. The former movie actor, known to all as "Erap," was propelled all the way to the presidency on the strength of his image as a tough-guy action hero, unimpaired by less-than-impressive performances as a senator and then as vice-president. To be sure, not every celebrity politician does a bad job. Television news anchor Loren Legarda Leviste, for example, is thought by many to have performed well in the Senate, while actress Vilma Santos Recto has received good reviews as mayor of Lipa City, south of Manila. However, for many celebrity politicians good governance appears less important than maintaining their VIP status. As the sociologist Randy David says, money and power are factors, "but the quest for recognition is the most vital." It's not a motivation that's likely to result in a drive for reform. Indeed, supporters of celebrity politicians appear to have little expectation that their idols will deliver effective leadership. It's significant that the angry Estrada loyalists who have been taking to the streets of Manila don't insist that the ousted president is innocent, or claim that he had achieved very much in office. Their main complaint is that he is being victimized for the sort of crimes committed by other politicians. So, despite Estrada's fall from grace, dozens more celebrities are set to follow him into public office in May's elections, when voters will choose half the Senate, all the lower house, and thousands of other lower-level representatives across the nation. Streets ahead in the race for a seat in the Senate is Noli de Castro, a former TV news anchor. If elected, he'll join a number of other celebrities in the 24-member Senate, including TV journalist Legarda, two retired movie stars -- Ramon Revilla and Vicente Sotto -- and basketball player Robert "The Living Legend" Jaworski. Elsewhere, Santos is running for a second term as mayor of Lipa City; actor Eduardo Manzano is running for mayor of Manila's business district, Makati; fellow movie star Rudy Fernandez wants to be mayor of Quezon City, a northern part of the capital; and Revilla's son, Ramon "Bong" Revilla Jr., also a movie star, is running for re-election as governor of Cavite province. And the list goes on. A key factor in the likely success of many of these candidates is exposure. Cinema, radio and TV now penetrate even the most isolated parts of the Philippines, providing an ideal way of promoting candidates to voters who are often too poor or illiterate to buy a newspaper. At election time, "who is easier to recall than a movie star, a basketball player, or a star of a popular daytime TV soap opera?" asks Jose Eliseo Rocamora, executive director of the Institute for Popular Democracy. More importantly, with the exception of some largely powerless left-wing groups, Philippine politics is devoid of ideology. Politicians switch sides so easily that few voters could tell you with any confidence which party a member of Congress belongs to. Rocamora points up the contrasts between the Philippines and India, another large Asian democracy with a lively celebrity culture. "Here they vote for individuals, in India they vote for parties," he says. "At least you can tell the difference between Congress Party and the BJP, but here you can't." Many middle-class voters, particular those who rallied against Estrada, are migrating towards the minority of candidates running on anti-corruption or reform tickets. But poorer voters appear to feel that policies and platforms count for little -- not unreasonable when you consider the track record of most Philippine politicians. Since politics has served mostly to preserve wealth and power in the hands of a few families, for most voters election day is more about feudal loyalties than democratic competition, Filipino political analysts agree. Those loyalties are generally shored up by the country's deeply entrenched system of patronage. Local politicians woo barangay captains -- village chiefs -- with cash and influence throughout the year, and in exchange, ask them to deliver the votes when elections roll around. To some extent, celebrities -- through the sheer force of their popularity -- can bypass this system, at least the first time they run for office. But to stay in power, and continue to enjoy its spoils, they eventually need to join in. Some learn how to create allegiances by distributing largesse, as Estrada did. Others marry into political families, like the sexy starlet Cristina "Kring-kring" Gonzales-Romualdez, who married into the Romualdez clan (Imelda Marcos's family) and is now running for mayor of Tacloban. The rise of celebrity politics and the fall of Estrada have led some Filipinos to suggest that democracy may now have gone too far in their country: "Elective officials like Erap take advantage of the ignorance of the majority of the voters," Philippine Daily Inquirer columnist Ramon Tulfo wrote in early February. "If only there were a law disallowing ignorant citizens from voting," he added. Although few take such comments seriously, there is a clear feeling among middle-class intellectuals that poorer voters are -- at best -- misguided. "If your voters remain in the grip of ignorance and illiteracy, the answer isn't to stop them from voting," says the University of the Philippines' Randy David. "It's to lift them and educate them and reduce their economic vulnerability." David calls the celebritocracy's rise "a passing phase" in a developing democracy. "I don't expect us to have another Estrada, give us 10 years or more and they will be a thing of the past," he says. Danny Brizuela, a 39-year-old policeman from Naga City, just a half-hour drive from Nora Aunor's hometown of Iriga City, agrees. He's not voting for Aunor, because "people should vote for those who know law and the constitution." "Actors should stay as actors, their time is over," Brizuela says. "For me, it's goodbye now to actors and actresses from politics."
Baguio City — Banning the Cordillerans from eating dog meat is as good as forbidding them from practicing their tradition, according to some residents here. "It has been our tradition to eat dog meat especially during ritual or 'daw-es' for cleansing when a tribe has experienced death or calamities," a self-confessed dog eater said. This disapproving reaction came on the heels of the latest statement of health officials warning the Cordillerans to stop eating dog meat to stop the spread of rabies, a deadly virus coming from dogs. Flor Pintor, an official of the National Meat Inspection Committee, asked the Cordillerans, known dog eaters, to refrain from eating dog meat, particularly meat of stray dogs. He said 99 percent of the dogs are stray and most of them are afflicted with diseases. Wandering dogs pose the highest risk of rabies infection, Pintor said. "We know for a fact that most of us, especially those eating dogs, do not know whether the dog meat is clean or not. And most of the dog meat is coming from the stray ones," said Pintor. He said this dog meat is sold in turu-turo and does not go through the sanitation inspection. Pintor also cited the Animal Welfare Act wherein butchering dogs, which are considered as man’s best friend, has been banned and is punishable by law. Resident city veterinarian Brigette Piok said dog meat has been banned, although there are still restaurants selling dog meat because it’s one of the "favorite foods" of the Cordillerans. Cordilleran Morris Estigoy said health officials cannot ask them to stop eating dog meat as this has been part of their culture. "You cannot ban people from this region from eating dog meat because it is aphrodisiac to us. It helps warm our bodies. If they will ban eating dog meat then people will secretly butcher dogs only to eat them," he pointed out.
A
Matter of Taste A man seldom thinks with more earnestness of anything than he does of his dinner." -- Samuel Johnson I HAVE NOW BEEN in this country for over six years, and consider myself in most respects well-assimilated. However, there is one key step on the road to full assimilation which I have yet to take, and that's to eat balut. The day any of you sees me eating balut, please call immigration and ask them to issue me a Filipino passport. Because at that point there will be no turning back. Balut, for those still blissfully ignorant non-Pinoys out there, is a fertilized duck egg. It is commonly sold with salt in a piece of newspaper, much like English fish and chips, by street vendors -- usually after dark, presumably so you can't see how gross it is. It's meant to be an aphrodisiac, although I can't imagine anything more likely to dispel sexual desire than crunching on a partially-formed baby duck swimming in noxious fluid. The embryo in the egg comes in varying stages of development, but basically it is not considered macho to eat one without fully discernable feathers, beak, and claws. Some say these crunchy bits are the best. Others prefer just to drink the so-called 'soup', the vile, pungent liquid that surrounds the aforementioned feathery fetus... excuse me, I have to go and throw up now. I'll be back in a minute. Food dominates the life of the Filipino. People here just love to eat. They eat at least eight times a day. These eight official meals are called, in order: breakfast, snacks, lunch, merienda, pica-pica, pulutan, dinner, and no-one-saw-me-take-that-cookie-from-the-fridge-so-it-doesn't-count. The short gaps in between these mealtimes are spent eating Sky Flakes from the open packet that sits on every desktop. You're never far from food in the Philippines. If you doubt this, next time you're driving home from work, try this game. See how long you can drive without seeing food -- and I don't mean a distant restaurant, or a picture of food. I mean a man on the sidewalk frying fishballs, or a man walking through the traffic selling nuts or candy. I bet it's less than one minute. Here are some other things I've noticed about food in the Philippines. Firstly, a meal is not a meal without rice even breakfast. In the UK, I could go a whole year without eating rice. Second, it's impossible to drink without eating. A bottle of San Miguel just isn't the same without gambas or beef tapa. Third, no one ventures more than two paces from their house without baon and a container of something cold to drink. You might as well ask a Filipino to leave home without his pants on. And lastly, where I come from, you eat with a knife and fork. Here, you eat with a spoon and fork. You try eating rice swimming in sauce with a knife. One really nice thing about Filipino food culture is that people always ask you to share their food. In my office, if you catch anyone attacking their baon, they will always go: "Sir! Kain tayo!" ("Let's eat!"). This confused me, until I realized that they didn't actually expect me to sit down and start munching on their boneless bangus. In fact, the polite response is something like, "No thanks, I just ate." But the principle is sound -- if you have food on your plate, you are expected to share it, however hungry you are, with those who may be even hungrier. I think that's great. In fact, this is frequently even taken one step further. Many Filipinos use "Have you eaten yet?" ("Kumain ka na?") as a general greeting, irrespective of time of day or location. Some foreigners think Filipino food is fairly dull compared to other Asian cuisines. Actually lots of it is very good: spicy dishes like Bicol Express (strange, a dish named after a train); anything cooked in coconut milk; anything kinilaw; and anything adobo. And it's hard to beat the sheer wanton, cholesterholic frenzy of a good old-fashioned lechon de leche feast. Dig a pit, light a fire, add 50 pounds of animal fat on a stick, and cook until crisp. Mmm, mmm... you can actually feel your arteries constricting with each successive mouthful. I also share one key Pinoy trait -- a sweet tooth. I am thus the only foreigner I know who does not complain about sweet bread, sweet burgers, sweet spaghetti, sweet banana ketchup, and so on. I am a man who likes to put jam on his pizza. Try it! It's the weird food you want to avoid. In addition to duck fetus in the half-shell, items to avoid in the Philippines include pig's blood soup dinuguan); bull's testicle soup (the strangely-named "soup number five" - I dread to think what numbers one through four are); and the ubiquitous, stinky shrimp paste, bagoong, and its equally stinky sister, patis. Filipinos are so addicted to these latter items that they will even risk arrest or deportation trying to smuggle them into countries like Australia and the USA, which wisely ban the importation of items you can smell from more than 100 paces. Then there's the small matter of the blueice cream. I have never been able to get my brain around eating blue food the ubiquitous ube leaves me cold. And lastly on the subject of weird food beware: that kalderetang kambing could well be kalderetang aso... The Filipino, of course, has a well-developed sense of food humor. Here's a typical Pinoy food joke: "I'm on a seafood diet." What's a seafood diet?" " When I see food, I eat it!" Filipinos also eat strange bits of animals -- the feet, the head, the guts, etc., usually barbecued on a stick. These have been given witty names, like Adidas" (chickens' feet); "kurbata" (either just chicken's neck, or "neck and thigh" as in "neck-tie"); "Walkman" (pigs ears); "PAL" (chicken wings); "helmet" (chicken heads); "IUD" (chicken intestines), and "Betamax" (video-cassette-like blocks of animal blood). Yum, yum. Bon appetit
Bribery
and Corruption "In Japan, when officials are caught, at least they are either arrested, compelled to give money "back", reprimanded, or punished. In the Philippines, when caught, officials are either promoted or given an even juicer position. Or they run for Congress, so they can mix with individuals of similar persuasion. Remember the old joke, which isn't so funny? If somebody is caught in a bank or stock market scam in America, he goes to jail. If somebody is caught in the same kind of scam in Manila, he goes to America."
Bus
passengers lose P1M
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Police air warning vs "kidnap nuns" |
 Thieves of Stray dogs caught in Balintawak |
 Mindoro man "eats" two sons |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Olongapo short on Sex Workers  |
 Condom wearing Man Found Dead |
 Raps Vs Female Pimp for Selling Teenager |
 Two Gays face Rape Charges |
|||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Husband mauls Wife who refused to give oral Sex |
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
