Where I spend dusk until before midnight. Katipunan is more peaceful at night. It’s a little melancholic too.

*Kuha mula sa 13th floor ng isang gusali.

** a repost from untold territories|photos

Pasensya na sa mga naghihintay

Hindi ako matalas pag-alala ng mga petsa. Noon, nagalit siya sa akin kung bakit nakakalimot raw ako, kung bakit tila hindi ko raw pinahahalagahan ang mismong mga araw na iyon na dapat naming ipagdiwang o alalahanin.

Kaya rin siguro mahina ako sa history. Kasi, parati nalang petsa ang dapat i-sagot sa mga exam. Natatandaan ko ang mga kuwento, mga matatalas na salita, pati na rin ang mga detalye, itsura at kung paano nangyari. May visual image lang akong nakikita, pero hindi ko masipat kung nasaang bahagi doon nakasulat mga numero, buwan at taon.

O kaya kung bakit din ako parating nahuhuli. Parati akong huli sa mga tagpuan, pasok, trabaho, pulong, kitaan, pati date.

Malamang dahil binibilang ko lang ang panahon sa mga sandali, hindi minuto kundi, sa mga sandaling ramdam na ramdam ko ang mga pinakamaiigting na emosyon. Lahat ng iba pa ay tila mga tulay sa susunod na paglagpak o pagsikad papalipad.

Kaya muli, paumanhin na sa mga naghihintay, nagbibilang at nagmamadali.

———————————————————

Muli akong maglalathala ng isang berso mula sa imbakan. Minsang kinimkim ngunit matagal nang napamahayan ng agiw at nawalan ng saysay. Pasensya na sa mga naghihintay, pero ngayon lang mapapakawalan ang mga bersong minsan kong inangkin at ikinulong bilang segundo. (smiley)

Pagkagulat (Isang Segundo)

(2006)

i.

(Kanina pa ako nakatitig sa kawalan.

Paulit-ulit kong kinakabisado ang anyo

ng lalaking kilalang-kilala ko.

Ang wangis ng mukha, tapyas ng buhok,

kurba ng braso, taludtod ng likod, kumpas ng katawan,

paraan ng paglalakad. Kilalang-kilala ko siya.

Bakit nga ba hindi kita kasama ngayong gabi?)

ii

Isang segundo.

sumabog ang puting ilaw sa palibot ng paningin kong

kanina’y tuwid na tuwid ang pagkakatitig sa kawalan.

Pagkagulat.

sa kaunting pagpitik ng pilik-mata,

naaninag ko ang lalaking kilalang-kilala ko,

at ang babaeng hindi naman ako

na naglalakad sa rutang araw-araw kong nilalakaran

kasama ang lalaking kilalang-kilala ko.

Hinto. Gulat!

Hikbi.

iii.

sigurado akong ikaw ‘yon sa kilos at paglalakad mo.

hindi kita abot ngunit nagkatitigan tayo.

Kalahating segundo,

takot ang mga mata mong dati’y

malalim, maningning, malambing na tumititig sa akin

habang nakadampi ang kamay ko sa itaas ng iyong braso

Gulat!

dama ko ang paglalakad sa rutang

araw-araw kong nilalakaran sa iyong tabi,

Pagkapatid.

ang init ng kamay mong nakabuhol sa aking daliri

at ang paghakbang ng tsinelas natin habang naglalakad,

Panlalamig.

ang mga mata mong malalim, maningning,

at malambing na nakatitig sa akin,

Hinto.

Isang segundo, nagpatuloy ka sa paglalakad,

ang lalaking kilalang-kilala ko,

kasama ang babaeng hindi naman ako.

Nangyari ang lahat sa loob ng isang segundo.

Hinto.Hikbi.Paypay.Buntong-hininga.

]]> http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/09/02/pasensya-na-sa-mga-naghihintay/feed/ 0 dvYna http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/08/19/hacienda-luisita-interviews/ http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/08/19/hacienda-luisita-interviews/#comments Tue, 19 Aug 2008 19:47:05 +0000 dnjdelacruz http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/?p=43 ]]>

These are never before seen photos from the times I spent in Hacienda Luisita* at the end of 2004 to the beginning of 2005.

I stayed there to live with the farm workers** at the sugar cane and workers of the Central Azucarera de Tarlac sugar factory and document their struggle for land ownership and their fight for just benefits that should be duly accorded to them.

It was an exhilarating and life-changing experience for a writer like me with only a limited exposure to grass roots issues at that time.

I had to stay there for a few months to document this historic display of impermeable strength in the union of workers and farm workers which will forever leave not only marks but trails in the history of Filipino struggle for national democracy. I had to get first-hand information and above all, be one with them, live the way they lived to have full appreciation and grasp of their struggle.

Interview with Sacadas:

Just a few meters away from the CAT sugar factory, makeshift houses were built to house Sacadas who mostly came from Negros. Sacadas are temporary farm workers who were hired to help in the sugar plantation during the harvest seasons. They will be transported back to Negros after six months. We were able to visit their makeshift houses and witness the austere living conditions.

On that fateful day of November 16, 2004, Hacienda farmworkers and the CAT Labor Union, who successfully halted sugar production by staging an all-out picket in front of the factory, were violently, brutally dispersed. The dispersal started in the afternoon until dusk. First, they were bombarded by teargas.

I remember how brutal it was. I personally experienced how it was to be thrown tear gas at on the first night they launched the picket on November 3, 2004. The picket line was installed in a vast open area between the sugarcane plantation and the sugar factory. It was a vast open space. But dispersal units threw an overwhelming number of canisters enough to replace oxygen all around us with that chemical. With a history of asthma, it was a little too much for me, I felt like dying when I inhaled massive dosage of that chemical in the air. My skin reacted so fast, I felt the harsh sting especially on my face and eyes.

It was, I thought, dreadfully inhumane. But then, November 16 was the the most atrocious, vile dispersal of all time. Dispersal units threw tear gas, maybe 10 times more. But they weren’t contented, they fired bullets instead, killing picketing farmworkers and sacadas.

The sacadas were painfully traumatized at the death of their colleagues that they wouldn’t want to leave their makeshift houses, wanting to go home to Negros.

These pictures show one of the rare occasions that Sacadas went to the picket line and submit to interviews and discussions.

*Hacienda Luisita, one of the biggest sugar cane plantations in the Philippines, is located in Tarlac, with a rough estimate measure of  6,000 hectares. Hacienda is a Spanish word referring to a large plantation owned by a family or clan. Hacienda Luisita is owned by the Cojuancos. Haciendas should be abolished and subjected to distribution to  farmers who have been cultivating the land under the Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program.

**70% of the population of the Philippines are farmers.

***The farm workers succeeded in their struggle. They now plant crops and vegetables that are necessary food demands in the country.

****I will be writing a more comprehensive account of my stay in Hacienda Luisita soon.

***** This is a repost from untold territories|photos.

gawa ng Silip
palaganapin!
]]> http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/06/28/july-10-is-students-national-day-of-action/feed/ 1 dvYna http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/04/22/nasaan-nga-ba-ang-terorista/ http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/04/22/nasaan-nga-ba-ang-terorista/#comments Tue, 22 Apr 2008 23:48:00 +0000 dnjdelacruz http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/04/22/nasaan-nga-ba-ang-terorista/ ]]>

… ang bago kong expression. Maraming ibig sabihin, depende sa sitwasyon, depende sa haba o tulin ng pagkakabigkas, depende kung paano ipinahayag ng mukha ko. Aw! (for lack of a better word).

Aw! kapag nasasaktan. Parang ouch na pinutol sa unang pantig. Kasi hindi naman talaga masakit. Kunwari lang. Maarte lang, kasi ma -arte ako. Karaniwan.

Pero ito, masakit: kahapon, tumawag ang mama, ang papa, si ian (na binata na, lumilipas na ang pag-pipiyok ng boses) at si gay (na ma-haaal na mahal kong sis). Sabi nila, apektado na sila ng recession sa US. Sabi ko, kami din po dito sa Pinas. Ang mahal ng mangga (nakalimutan na nga ni Gay kung ano yung carabao mango kasi matagal ko nang hindi nababanggit. Bihira din daw sila makakita nun sa US. Ibang variety lang daw ang meron.) Aw!

Aw! kapag nabibigla. Kasi hindi ko mapigilan ang pagkabigla ko. Depende sa sitwasyon. Kasi tuloy-tuloy lang ang dila ko pag nagugulat. Kailangan kong masabi agad ang reaksyon ko nang hindi nai-edit o pinag-iisipan man lang. Minsan, nakakasakit ng tao. Minsan, nakakatawa lang. Minsan, nagmumukha akong tanga.

Kanina, narinig ko sa balita, may mga bagong “kasalanan” na raw ayon sa Vatican. Kabilang dito ang pagdodroga at pagkakalat (sa paligid). Environmentalist na rin pala ang Vatican pero minsan, hindi herbal. Aw!

Aw! para lang makapag-hinga kunwari ng reaksyon kung wala naman talagang masabi. Para kunwari, may opinyon. O, kung ayaw ko nang pag-usapan. O, pambawi, para hindi corny. O, kapag may natamaan.

“She (PGMA) is evil” – sabi raw ni Neri, sabi ni Lozada

“She (PGMA) may be a bitch, but she’s the luckiest bitch around” – Gov. Salceda

“Son of a bitch” – sabi ni Sarah nung makita si Mikey Arroyo sa TV (following Salceda’s statement)

“Kapag nagbato siya ng alahas, pupulutin ko!” – awayang Anabelle Rama at Lolit Solis

“Detoxify daily” – sabi ni Lucy Torres

Aw! kapag nakaka-appreciate ng magandang bagay, tao, gawi, o musika, literatura at art na rin. Parang, “grabe pa-re, astig!” Magandang malandi. Parang “ma-ri-mar, aw!” Dahil maganda ang mundo (sa lahat ng kamunduhan nito), masarap mabuhay. Dahil baliw ako. Dahil “tao” ako. I’m human, men! Nakakaramdam ng bawat dampi, nakakarinig ng musika o berso, nasisilayan ang marikit. Nakakaunawa ng bawat kuwit, tuldok, at mga pariralang nagpapanggap na pangungusap.

Aw! kapag natataranta. Rakenrol! Kapag madaming naiisip at hindi kasimbilis ng mga daliri ang utak ko. Kapag nagkatambak-tambak ang mga gagawin. Kapag kailangan kong gawin ‘to, pero gustong-gusto kong gawin ‘yun. Kapag hinihila ang oras para umabot. Para hindi malagutan ng hininga. Aw! rin sa kabaliktaran nito, kapag satisfied, kapag nakatapos ng mga dapat gawin. Basta aw! pag extremes, para maging karaniwan.

Aw! dahil “i feel so damn good, i don’t know how to express it.” Dahil meron akong natural high. Ang sarap langhapin ng malakas na hangin bago ito dumampi sa balat ko at bago nito paliparin ang buhok ko. Aw! dahil malaya na ako, malaya sa lahat ng sagabal at hadlang. Ito ang pinakamagandang regalong natanggap ko (so far). Aw! dahil kasalukuyan na akong naglalakad sa kalsadang puno ng alpombra ng mga tuyong pulang dahon. Hihintayin kita sa dulo, sa dating tagpuan.

Aw! Dahil nahanap ko na ang pagbabago sa sarili ko at nahanap ko ‘to dahil lamang sa sarili ko (hindi “dahil sa kanya,” hindi “dahil siya lang ang nakapagparamdam sa akin ng ganito”). Napagsasabihan, naaapektuhan, nayayanig, nanginginig, pero hindi natatangay ng agos. Aw! dahil wala na akong galit, poot, at pagkamuhi. Dahil tapos na ang panahon ng pagluluksa, dahil patay na ‘yun, dahil hindi na magbabalik. Dahil marunong na akong ngumiti kahit may takot at pangamba.

Aw! dahil yapos-yapos ko ang nag-uumapaw na pag-ibig. Parang ‘yung kantang “i love you more today than yesterday” ng goldfinger. “Every day’s a new day in love with you. With each day comes a new way of loving you,” sinisipol ko sa sarili ko. “I’m like a big balloon filled with hot air, ready to explode” sabi ng orange and lemons sa “a beginning of something wonderful.” Parang gusto kong umindak sa ilalim ng nagbabagsakang dahon ng taglagas. Life is beautiful at nangangarap pa rin ng… world peace.

“We’re restless hearted, not the chained and bound… We’re too young to reason, too grown up to dream,” sabi ni Elan Atias.

Bukas, may transport strike ulit…

Aw!

Running the Philippine Collegian is one thankless job. Aside from thenerve-wracking, pressure-packed pressworks that writers and artists deal with on a weekly basis, its editors are burdened with almost impossible, inhuman expectations. The least that they have to be worried
about are the rules of grammar (in both languages), which they areassumed to have firm grasp of. Theyare required by the job to have extraordinary acuity and keenness in analyzing social, political and cultural events. Equally as important, of course, editors have to have a fully developed creative imagination, not to mention, impeccable taste.

It is undeniably one of the most demanding jobs on campus, where mere mortals fear to tread.

It does not surprise us, therefore, that one of Collegian’s editors –current editor-in-chief, no less – has decided to tread the path of campus politics. He is on familiar ground, for sure. He is vying for one job where his wit and intelligence, superior leadership skills, creative imagination and, well, impeccable taste, can be put to best use.

We are talking, of course, about Jerrie Abella.

As an astute observer of campus politics for many years, Jerrie has acquired an encyclopedic knowledge of its ins and outs. Trained as a news reporter, he has interviewed and conversed with university administrators and professors, instructors and employees, residents and students – stakeholders all in the business of running a student council.

Anyone familiar with how a usual Collegian presswork grinds out knows how tough one must be to be able to go through the entire process with his or her sanity intact. From planning the issue to going through the rigorous editing to the painstaking laying out of the pages, Jerrie has successfully led one of the best Collegian pool of editors, writers and artists in years. This feat is due in no small measure to Jerrie’s leadership.

Make no mistake, too: Jerrie is also an impassioned activist. His heart has always been in the right place – the Collegian’s advocacies are testament to that. During the last school year, Jerrie was among the editors who assiduously fought administration intervention in the paper’s fiscal affairs while coming up with creative ways to deliver the news to the students. The Collegian’s past term and the current one were also most valiant in exposing and criticizing the utter underhandedless with which the UP administration passed the tuition hike. Jerrie’s term has also kept vigil of updates on the whereabouts of missing UP students Sherlyn Cadapan and Karen Empeño, as well as other disappeared victims of state fascism.

It goes without saying, too, that the Collegian under his term has been most passionate in bringing to the student fore national issues, from demolition of urban poor communities to the national movement to oust the sitting President.

We have to admit, though: Jerrie is biased. But only because he favors seeing social problems from the point-of-view of the majority of poor and dispossessed Filipinos. He is biased for the students, and makes sure that every ink that he pens will reflect its objective interests and aspirations. He is biased for what is true. Yes, as a journalist, he is obliged to be objective and fair, and the pages of the Collegian in many ways reflect that. But more than being an observer, Jerrie is an activist and a student leader. More than being a mere chronicler of events, he is completely engaged in the conflict of our times.

Fortunately for us, he is on our side.

This coming election, we, former Philippine Collegian editors, urge you to vote JERRIE ABELLA, for chairperson of the University Student Council.

Signed:

Karl Frederick Castro, Editor in Chief, 2006-2007
Jayson DP Fajarda, Editor in Chief, 2004-2005
Ellaine Rose A. Beronio, Editor in Chief, 2002-2003
Kenneth Roland A. Guda, Features Editor, 2000-2001
Lisa Cariño Ito, Associate Editor, 2000-2002
Margaret P. Yarcia, Features Editor, 2006-2007
Katrina Angela R. Macapagal, Associate Editor, 2006-2007
Joan ME Salvador, Associate Editor, 2002-2003
Kendrick T. Bautista, Graphics Editor, 2004-2005
Divina Nova Joy D. Dela Cruz, News Editor, 2003-2005
Rouelle T. Umali, Graphics Editor, 2006-2007
Jeeu Christopher A. Gonzales, Culture Editor, 2006-2007
Wendell M. Gumban, News Editor, 2004-2005
]]> http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/03/03/one-tough-editor/feed/ 0 dvYna http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/02/04/24/ http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/02/04/24/#comments Mon, 04 Feb 2008 18:44:00 +0000 dnjdelacruz http://untoldterritories.wordpress.com/2008/02/04/24/ ]]> Of goodbyes, airports and extra baggage

I abhor visiting the airport. Restlessness lurks around, hovering like a humid atmosphere waiting for held-back tears to fall from the eyes of passengers and their loved ones.

As much as I want to evade that place (I once described as an impish portal), it is also a constant rendezvous for me and acquaintances delivering or sending packages to my family.

Once, I met with my dad’s co-worker, who went home for the holidays. Moments before, I imagined how I would take her hand for a mano, or hug her like I would if she were my mom. She arrived after an hour tormenting thoughts fooling around on my mind. I was worrying that she might have left, knowing that she would have an immediate connecting flight to Davao.

We recognized each other meters away even if we haven’t met before. I saw her beaming smile as if she had seen my mother’s eyes and my dad’s eyebrows on my face.

“Kamusta na po sila?” I asked as she hurriedly took out my package from her bag and hastily traded it with the parcel (for my parents) in my hand. “Ok naman sila, magpakabait ka,” she answered during the barter. It was that swift. She had to leave. I stayed at where I was standing. I wanted to call her back. I forgot to send a kiss for my mom.

———————-

I found this crafty little poem from an online newspaper. For all the concealed emotions to land on.

BAGAHE
Tula ni Axel Pinpin

Wala tayong narinig sa isa’t-isa
noong una mong paglisan
dahil kung anong higpit ng ating mga yakap
siya namang luwag nang pagpatak ng luha
sa di nagpantay nating mga pisngi;
waring nalimutan ng ating mga labi
ang kanyang “mag-iingat” at “hanggang sa muli”.

Naalala na nating ngumiti at magbilin
sa ikalawa mong paglipad.
Naroon pa rin ang higpit ng yakap ng pagtanggap
at hibi ng mga luhang parang di nasasanay;
nawika mo sa unang elektronikong liham:
“Kuya, tayo na lang yata ang umiiyak ‘pag nasa airport,
pinatahan na ang iba ng pangako ng dolyar.”

Higit na pinaghiwalay ng rehas at ng iyong pag-ibig
ang paalaman natin sa pinakahuli mong biyahe.
Pinagulang na rin ng karanasan ang iyong yakap
at ang luha mo noo’y pang-unawa ang hanap.
Sa mensahe mo bago ka lumulan ng eroplano:
“Kuya, over-baggaged ako. Mabigat ang kalamay,
at alamang. Kung pwede sana, di ko na dalhin ang pag-aalala
sa iyong paglaya, sa ating pamilya, sa aking kasintahan
at sa ating Bayan.”