While I Was Sleeping

The problem with taking a respite from the task of updating this blog is that a stupid comment poster takes over. As I said before, I want the sharing of ideas in this blog to be on the level. Yet there is this virus who insist on introducing garbage comments and childish ranting in this site. Kapoy ra bag delete aning baho nga basura.

I understand that some comment posters are interested in my article about World War II. Those who are asking me about certain personalities and places (Hill 22?), sorry but I am not an expert in these matters. You can check with the Cebuano Studies Center of the University of San Carlos if you are in Cebu.

It’s good that relatives of the late mayor and poet Rene Amper are posting comments in the article I wrote about his death. Through it, we have been enlightened about the man’s life. I hope relatives of the other late poet, Temistokles Adlawan, will also find time to comment.

I have returned. Hopefully I can post new articles and materials soon.

Cerge Remonde

A few months before I married Edizza in 1999, I met Joy, a Cerge Remonde relative and former dyLA secretary. “Niingon to si Cerge nga masuko siya kun dili nimo siya himoong ninong sa kasal,” she said. Actually, we had considered him as our wedding sponsor even without the reminder. But that was typical Cerge,

Cerge wasn’t in Malacañang yet at that time but he was busy with his work and other activities that went with his being a popular broadcaster and media leader. Besides, the wedding date, Dec. 18, was too close to his birthday, Dec. 21. So while we didn’t expect him to be there at the wedding, we listed him as one of the sponsors nevertheless.

Indeed, we didn’t see Cerge’s shadow during the ceremony, but I was surprised when he did pass by at the reception that was held at the back of the church in Sitio Laray, Barangay San Roque, Talisay. He was smiling when he shook our hands. “Tan-awa, di ba niari gyod ko,” he said, obviously proud of what he did. Again typical Cerge,

I first met Cerge when I decided to go back to society’s mainstream after months of “rehabilitation” in the early ‘90s. I was in need of work but was an undergrad. I had worked part-time in dyLA before and had trained at the then Broadcast Production and Training Center. I thought I had a chance of landing a job if I applied in that radio station.

DyLA then could be described as a Cerge Remonde-Leo Lastimosa organization. Cerge was the manager and popular radio commentator while Leo was the news director and popular broadcast journalist. Both were intimidating to a work applicant like me. Besides, Cerge had gained a reputation as leader of the anti-communist movement.

When I went to the radio station, I therefore made sure I brought with me a note from a military official vouching for my “rehab.” Cerge read the note then referred me to Leo. I actually expected the cold treatment. Fortunately, Leo was more accommodating and recommended that I start work immediately. That jump-started my media career.

I didn’t know that it was the waning weeks of the Cerge-Leo partnership. Just when I was transferred from desk work to the field as City Hall beat reporter in 1991, Leo would be “pirated” by dyRF, leaving Cerge to scramble in looking for a replacement. And weeks after I was designated as news director, Cerge himself left to join politics.

That also marked the beginning of the end of my stint in dyLA. Cerge ran for the congressional post in Cebu City’s north district against the formidable Raul del Mar in 1992. That meant an OIC had to take over as station manager. When Cerge lost his bid, he was not allowed to go back to his dyLA job but was instead assigned to Manila.

Meanwhile, the OIC initiated changes that tended to scuttle dyLA’s reputation as news and public affairs station. Threats of retrenchment followed. I stood by the reporters and vowed to resign if any one of them was fired. When Cerge visited Cebu, he told us to stay put because he was finding ways to return as station manager. But things came to a head fast. I was eventually forced to quit.

When Cerge stood as sponsor in my wedding, memories of my foray into broadcast journalism were receding. I also met him only in rare instances. The linkage would continue to weaken, especially during his stint in Malacañang. But that did not mean my appreciation of him had been scuttled. Reports of his passing yesterday therefore saddened me. May he rest in peace.
(This came out in my January 20, 2010 “Candid Thoughts” column in Sun.Star Cebu)

The Year 2009

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. No, I am not referring to the Charles Dickens masterpiece but to 2009 and the country. If this were a kind of travel, this was one hell of a trip for us. Who would have thought that events that happened in the past 12 months would include those that straddled two extremes?

Interestingly, 2009 is in the end part of the first decade of the Third Millennium. I remember us a decade ago welcoming the entry of the new century with all the hoopla and hope attached to major milestones. By the time we reached 2009, however, it became increasingly apparent that we are into more of the same, especially in a country living in a continuing past.

So we may have to accept the reality that the past year and the coming one is not really about the old and the new but is merely, for our country, a continuation of the process of being. But I may have waxed philosophical for several sentences already, so back to the “best of times, worst of times” thing.

Two points stand out in 2009, and I am not talking about the constant, which is the unfortunate way President Arroyo has been handling this country’s affairs and the allegations of corruption hounding her administration. The first point that I may have to start off with is about the worst events of 2009, or should we say events that are worse than the usual “worsts” of past years.

Here, the Maguindanao massacre stands out. The murder of 57 people by members of the powerful Ampatuan clan in Maguindanao is considered the worst election-related violence in the country in decades for several reasons, among them being the brutality of its execution and the number and the kind of personalities executed.

The suspects also included high-ranking officials of local government units, policemen and members of civilian volunteer organizations. The weapons used in the killing and the equipment used in the attempt to hide the crime included government procured firearms and a Maguindanao government-owned back hoe. The victims were women members of a rival clan, two lawyers and 30 journalists.

The worst climate-brought tragedy in decades was the the flooding in Metro Manila and other parts of Luzon in 2009 brought about by typhoons Ondoy and Pepeng. Ondoy brought six-feet floods in Metro Manila in only thirty minutes while Pepeng brought about killer landslides in Northern Luzon. Scenes of families huddled in rooftops surrounded by brownish water will remain for long.

Lest I be accused of mentioning only the “worse worsts,” 2009 also provided us with the “better bests.” There was Manny Pacquiao with his masterful performance in defeating some of the world’s renowned boxers in Ricky Hatton of Britain and Miguel Cotto of Puerto Rico. In the process he won an unprecedented seven world titles in seven divisions and became the toast of the boxing world.

And we did produce other heroes that caught international attention, like Efren Peñaflorida, awarded by the international media giant CNN as its Hero of the Year for 2009. Construction worker Muelmar Magallanes, who died while saving 30 people at the height of typhoon Ondoy, was among Time Magazine’s Top 10 Heroes of the year.

We don’t know what 2010 and the new decade will bring us. Elections will be held in May of that year and the hope is that governance will change for the better with the Arroyo administration finally out. The economy? Peace and order? Climate? Let’s just hope for the best.

(I wrote this for my January 1, 2010 “Candid Thoughts” column for Sun.Star Cebu)

Yuletide Perspectives

I used to sit alone on top of the Cebu City mountains on moonlit nights just to immerse myself in the vastness of nature. When the terrain is bald, you see the rough hillsides gradually fall down to the darkness that are the rivers and creeks and then rise up again going up to the other peaks. The mystery deepens with the gray of the surrounding.

Above you, the stars, millions of them, assert themselves even with the moon lighting up the usual brooding blue of the sky. The white orb looks flat at first glance, but becomes three-dimensional once probed deeper. The moon has been there through time, titillating limited minds with the inscrutability of its existence. Mine was no different.

Man has always been puny but often wallows in the illusion of power created by its communities. When you are in the metropolis surrounded by man-made structures and gadgetry, you lose sight of the ethereal and the universal. That is why I always cherish the moments when I commune with the earth and the heavens and be other than human.

One of my better recollections of Christmas happened in one of the mountains overlooking the city. In the village called Patayng Yuta nights take over early and the farmers immediately fall prey to its spell, even on Christmas eves. One time, I just decided to climb the hilltop to watch ignited pyrotechnics rise above the city lights.

I could not recall now how long I sat there. The midnight air was biting despite my thick jacket and my alone-ness added to the coldness that permeated the thick mix of grasses, bushes and trees. But time seemed to fly by as my thought drifted from the man-made—the family left behind, city life, etc.—to the profound—nature, God and creation.

I grew up spending my Christmases in the comfort of home and neighbors. In Sitio Kawayan where I grew up, we children would go caroling, light firecrackers or just watch our elders in their festive mood. In that kind of celebration, the communal is the props. And often, the Christ in Christmas is lost in the passing, though we don’t admit it.

At the back of our present home is a hill topped by towers of two telecom firms. I haven’t climbed the hill at night and don’t intend to do it now. Spending a moment alone in the yard tonight and feeling the cold air on the face while watching the stars would be enough to put in perspective this age-old celebration. A Merry Christmas to one and all!

(I wrote this for my December 24, 2009 Candid Thoughts column in Sun.Star Cebu)

Misa de Gallo

I miss the Misa de Gallo. Every Christmas, I promise to attend at least one of these dawn masses but always end up short. No way could I force myself now to wake up at 4 a.m. when I sleep past 12 midnight. But I have fond memories of the ritual, etched in my mind when I was young and when work and family had still to be my preoccupation.

In an age of change, people of my generation may have to be thankful that the Filipino version of the Misa de Gallo has not yet been taken over by commercialization and twisted by foreign influences, like what is happening to the celebration of the Kalag-kalag in large urban centers of the country. I dread to see my kids talk Halloween instead.

One of my early Cebuano short stories published in the old Sun.Star Weekend was on the “sungkaan.” It was about a father who tried teaching his children the rudiments of the game and to enjoy it like he did when he was younger. Eventually, though, his kids found computer games more exciting. Signs of the times, actually.

My recollection of the very early misa de gallo I was in is hazy, but I reckon it was in Argao town where we lived for a few years when my father was assigned there as a Pepsi-Cola salesman. I remember the church, the people and the delicacies (puto or budbod and sikwate) after the mass. And, yes, the darkness of dawn in a rural milieu.

It was while growing up in Sitio Kawayan in Barangay Sambag 2, Cebu City where I developed a better understanding of the ritual and the peripheral feelings that celebrating it evokes. That was when our place was still under the Redemptorist Parish and the priests and parish workers were active in drawing us kids into church activities.

Waking up early was always a struggle, more so walking in the cold dawn air from our place to the church which was, I think, more than a kilometer away (from B. Rodriguez Ext. down to B. Rodriguez proper, crossing to Fuente Osmeña going to Mango Ave. down to Baseline, St. Theresa’s College and finally the church). We did it anyway.

This Christmas, I promise again to attend the Misa de Gallo and fulfill it. I don’t want my two boys to grow up losing a feel of a practice that partly shaped the lives of their parents when they were younger. I know that change is inevitable and eventually the future generations will chart their own paths. But some things need to be handed down to our kids if only to help them grow up to become good Christians.

(I wrote this for my December 17, 2009 Candid Thoughts column in Sun.Star Cebu)

Song Lyrics to Appreciate

One of the reasons why the popular “Bisrock” genre is dying is because the Cebuano rock bands failed to appreciate the importance of lyrics in crafting songs. Many of them just couldn’t get out of what has become the formulaic lyrics with double meanings and vulgar songs.

Poetry in the lyrics makes the song timeless. Consider some of my favorites:

“Burnt out ends, of smoky days. The stale, cold smell of morning. A street lamp dies, another night is over. Another day is dawning.” (From the song “Memory,” version of Barry Manilow.)

“And when it seems my dreams have all slipped through my fingers, when they just can’t be found, I turned around and there they are, shining in her eyes.”
(From “Come What May” by Air Supply)

“I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses, for tonight, I sleep in a bed of nails.”
(From “Bed of Roses” by Bon Jovi)

“Matud nila, ikaw dili malipay kay wa akoy bahandi nga kanimo igasa. Gugmang putli mao ray pasalig, maoy bahanding labaw sa bulawan.”
(From “Matud Nila” by Ben Zubiri)

“Daw dahon nga laya, napulak, napadpad. Sama sa damgo nga, sa pagmata, nahanaw.”
(From “Dahon nga Laya” written by Saturnino Villarino)

There are many other samples. You can add yours if you want.

Colon at Night 2

I like the inputs of some readers of this blog to the article about Colon. This just means this blog attracts educated and profound readers that makes discussion of subjects interesting.

Near that strip at the corner of Colon and Osmena Blvd. is the corner of Colon and Pelaez Sts. and a few meters away the corner of Pelaez and Sanciangko Sts. In that part of Pelaez are two hotels and some night spots. I usually pass that area to and from Colon.

Pimps and prostitutes are regular fare there at night. At the night spots you often see Caucasians who are most probably clients of the hotel. They can be mostly seen with local women, obviously picked up from among the prostitutes in the place.

I sometimes see a few of the Caucasians at certain times making conversation with young boys that looked like street children. My worry, of course, is that these kids would be victimized by pedophiles.

It was in Pelaez at night that I saw for the first time this cart pushed by a man that sold a kind of seafood in a shell. It must be already cooked and the hard portion had to be broken before the meat could be eaten or brought home. I reckon that it was expensive, but the enticement could be that it was an aphrodisiac.

Colon and its neighboring streets have the look that gives strangers the creeps at night. But that is only on the surface. Tarry longer and the uneasiness disappears.

Not About Mindanao’s Gun Culture

As if the massacre of 57 people in Maguindanao was not shocking enough, in come the seizures of hoarded armaments in mind-boggling number in this Ampatuan clan enclave. So what kind of monster has the Arroyo administration created in Maguindanao? As days pass, I am getting convinced government has to be put to task for this chaos.

The latest find in the Ampatuan warehouse in Shariff Aquak could meet the needs of a battalion of soldiers, Lt. Col. Michael Samson, spokesperson of the Armed Forces of the Philippines in Maguindanao told the Inquirer. Another large cache was dug up days ago in a vacant lot in Ampatuan town. The number of seized guns just continues to grow.

If that doesn’t amaze you, here’s a rundown of the warehouse items seized: 6,500 rounds of ammo for M14 assault rifles, 134 propeller missiles for 81 mm mortar, 131 propeller missiles for 60 mm mortar, six rockets for 90 mm recoilless rifles, three rocket warheads for an MG 520 attack helicopter and 92 rockets for 57 mm recoilless rifles.

A simplistic military description of the listed missiles and ammunition found in the warehouse: sufficient to obliterate a small town. No wonder they were “stunned.” Maj. Randolph Cabangbang, spokesperson of the AFP’s Eastern Mindanao Command said that the Ampatuan private army could dwarf the other similar groups in the country.

How were they able to amass such a large cache of military hardware, most of them “Department of National Defense” issues, thus allowing then to arm a private force with an estimated 2,000 fighters? Why the obsession for sophisticated firearms? And will recent actions be enough to disable the monster the Arroyo government created?

Those armaments took years to accumulate and were either bought or supplied by the government. Consider the linkage between warlordism and control of local political power. The Ampatuan army is composed of civilian volunteer organization members under the police and military that are in turn subservient to the Ampatuans in office.

A big chunk of the cache could also have been bought, which brings us to the evil that is graft and corruption. No doubt about the wealth of the Ampatuans, as shown by those palatial homes that are anomalies in a poor province like Maguindanao. The clan’s riches are still being audited and I`m sure government coffers are among their sources.

Corruption is also obviously what made possible the transfer of the ownership of the DND armaments to private hands. If so, the Ampatuans must have spent a fortune on them and those in the military must have earned a tidy sum. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think about collusion from military higher-ups, judging from the hardware involved.

Gun culture has often been mentioned as the reason for the propensity of Muslim area residents to procure firearms for personal use. I have heard stories of how farmers in some Mindanao towns till their fields with M-16s slung across their backs. But that culture is abetted by government tolerance, which makes our laws on guns laughable.

What the military and police are currently doing against the Ampatuans shows that firearms, at least in Maguindanao, can be seized and warlords can be put to heel if government just puts its mind to it. It’s not about gun culture, then, or even about clan wars and ridos. It’s about government enforcing our laws no matter who gets hurt.

(I wrote this for my December 11, 2009 “Candid Thoughts” column in Sun.Star Cebu)

Tem Adlawan: A Poet’s Death

NOT many people know Temistokles “Tem” Adlawan outside of Cebu’s literary circles, but that does not mean his passing should go unnoticed. Tem had his Ernest Hemingway moment, choosing to end his life by himself. He was 79. No, he did not shoot himself with a gun. He was calm like Socrates after drinking the hemlock.

Januar, my fellow columnist and literary writer, rushed to a Cebu City hospital when he heard about what happened to Tem. The scene surrounding his death as pictured by his relatives was tragic as it was fiction-like. But he was already sickly, said Josua, cartoonist and literary writer. His eyes were problematic and he could no longer write.

For writers, the pen is a weapon against life’s tests. When I was under solitary confinement years ago, I asked my captors to provide me pen and paper. I don’t know if my sanity would have survived that ordeal without the things that I later referred to as “my crutch.” Writing helped Tem survive a lonely existence in his twilight years.

I met Tem for the first time at a University of the Philippines creative writing workshop held in Gen. Douglas MacArthur’s landing site in Palo, Leyte in the late ‘90s. He was the oldest fellow and the most respected Cebuano writer in the workshop.

Tem was a widower and a part-time habal-habal driver and his folksy ways were noticeable. What I immediately observed in Tem was his love for anything creative. He told me how he would get a high every time he cracks a well-concocted metaphor in a poem he is reading. It caught me off-guard and made me re-assess the efforts I poured in writing my literary pieces. I realized then that I was dealing with an extraordinary writer.

But writing in this country does not pay our bills. Tem got national recognition for his Cebuano poems and yet continued to struggle to eke out a living in Naga. I once visited him in his small hillside hut in Pangdan and his sole cherished possession there, aside from his motorcycle, was the rickety typewriter that documented his genius.

Fellow writers, especially members of the Bathalan-ong Halad sa Dagang, will pay their last respects to a man whose works we appreciated, aptly through a poetry reading. I don’t know if I will be able to go there considering the schedules I have to meet. But personal presence won’t matter if homage transcends physical bounds.

To Tem, may your soul rest in peace now.

(I wrote this for my November 18 “Candid Thoughts” column in Sun.Star Cebu)

Tunnel in Sudlon (Gochan Hill)

I was sifting through my file when I chanced upon a small message sent by former ambassador Esteban T. Gochan on October 21, 1994 yet. It was about his reaction to an article wherein I mentioned a tunnel in Sudlon, Lahug, Cebu City.

I recall writing about a World War II-vintage tunnel located near the top of a hill just above the now Ecotech Center. The last time I was there was in the ’80s yet when one time we held a discussion session there. The hole was spacious enough and was long, although we were not able to survey its entire length.

We brought bamboo lamps (sulo) inside to illuminate us while we pored over some reading materials. We used to joke about what happened after: our nostrils ended up blackened with soot. I don’t know what happened to that hill and to that tunnel now.

Here’s Gochan’s letter, which I want to save in this blog or it could get lost through time:

“I thought perhaps you might want to know a bit more about the tunnel in Sudlon hills that you described in the second item of your article in today’s (October 21, 19940 issue of The Freeman.

“The tunnel was dug by remnants of the Japanese troops stationed in the Sudlon area during the last stage of World War II in preparation for their defense. In fact it took all of two days–from March 24 to March 25, 1945—for the mopping-up operation of the American troops to clear the tunnel of Japanese snipers holed up inside.

“The encounter was later known as ‘The Battle of Gochan Hill, so-called because the hill used to belong to my late father, Felix Gochan. In the first quarter of the century, a lighthouse stood on the hill to guide incoming ships sailing past the towns of Liloan and Consolacion through the channel on to the Cebu harbor. The lighthouse must have been destroyed in the early period of the war.

“The hill no longer belongs to us. But since my house is located at the foot of that hill, we have come to call our residential compound ‘The Gochan Hill’ (in Camputhaw, Lahug).”

Pier Uno

I finally set foot inside the JSU-PSU Mariners Court at Pier 1 for the San Miguel Corp. party for media people on December 4. Going there triggered memories of my early days in the profession.

I was still in college when I started working part-time for radio station dyLA. I think that was in 1979 after I trained at the now defunct Broadcast Production Training Center. The dyLA studio was at the Arellano Boulevard site in the Associated Labor Union’s Ybarrita Hall.

DyLA later transferred in the early ’80s to the Vimcontu Building at the other side of Pier 1 near the Waterfront Police Station. I worked there in 1981 starting as a news transcriber and later as reporter and finally news director. I quit when I had a conflict when then station manager Emil Fortuna.

The JSU-PSU building stands in the area that was once partly a tennis court. That means that it drastically changed the landscape of the compound. The Vimcontu building already looks incongruous in this setup. DyLA has transferred to the JSU-PSU building.

The third floor window had a good view of a portion of the pier. I was reminded that I used to spend a good amount of time traveling to my home place Camotes. I miss those days. I miss the salty smell of the sea and miss just watching the waves roll.

Maguindanao Massacre

Conflict of schedule prevented me from joining yesterday’s march of the Cebu Federation of Beat Journalists (CFBJ) to condemn the Maguindanao massacre, which also took the lives of around 30 Mindanao journalists. At this stage, though, all of us in the media profession are outraged. We mourn the senseless deaths of our colleagues.

In this, the saddest period of our country and Philippine journalism, fortifying our solidarity is the only way to go. It therefore warms the heart that, from Batanes to Jolo and from the Philippines to the farthest reaches of the globe, condemnation of the Nov. 23 bestiality in Maguindanao can be heard. Such is needed if justice is the goal.

Days have passed but I still feel a mixture of anger, sadness and worry every time the Maguindanao massacre comes to mind. The other night a GMA 7 report put a face on the names of the journalists who died while covering the filing of the certificate of candidacy of a member of the Mangudadatu clan. I was both enraged and teary eyed.

The happiest days in my journalism career happened when I was in the field. There, the challenges in covering a developing event are always eased by our interaction with our colleagues. The faces of the reporters shown in that GMA 7 footage and fotos all radiated the same humanity that the powerful overlook in their attempt to stifle the truth.

Mourning and condemnation, however, are only phases in the pursuit of justice. We all must focus now on the next important stages, especially on the manner the Arroyo administration is handling the investigation and identification of the perpetrators. This early, I am beginning to worry if those killed will ever be accorded genuine justice.

Look closely and you will find that the magnitude of the bestiality committed in this incident is matched only by the kind of power the suspects are wielding. Andal Ampatuan Jr. is mayor of Datu Unsay town. His father, Andal Sr., is governor of Maguindanao. His brother, Zaldy, is Autonomous Region in Muslim Mindanao chief.

As details of the massacre are put to light, the more one sees how this power was flaunted in the crime. The backhoe used to bury the bodies of the victims is owned by the Maguindanao government. Among the armed men linked to the crime were top police officials in the area. Reports say that the perpetrators later sought refuge at the Capitol.

In short, government personnel and resources were used in the corralling and slaughtering of the victims and in the subsequent attempt to cover up the crime. That shows the height abuse of authority in Maguindanao has reached. The situation did not occur overnight; it is a product of years of looking away by the Arroyo administration.

Yet, in the current quest for justice, Malacañang is not even going through the motions of creating an impression that it is distancing from the suspect Ampatuan clan, its ally. The administration party Lakas-Kampi-CMD did expel the Ampatuans, but Presidential Adviser Jesus Dureza has been babysitting the clan the past few days.

I hope the case against Andal Jr., the main suspect in the massacre, won’t go the way of that of Ruben Ecleo Jr. that has dragged on for years without clear outcome in sight. Andal is also rich and influential and can hire the best lawyers to turn the judicial process on its head. That’s why public pressure must be continuously exerted on this one.

(I wrote this for my November 27 “Candid Thoughts” column in Sun.Star Cebu)

Gibo and Lakas-Kampi’s Sputtering Bid

You sense the lack of foresight, or the lack of charismatic leaders, when a group looks lost and seems like it is scraping the bottom of the organizational barrel. Or why is the “well-oiled” machine of the administration coalition Lakas-Kampi, with Gilberto Teodoro astride it as presidential bet, sputtering in the choice of his running mate?

Lakas-Kampi propagandists boast about the size of the coalition’s organization for the 2010 elections, with incumbent governors, mayors and congressman supposedly ensuring a victory for Teodoro. But when your top bet is at the bottom of the surveys and you could not find a decent running mate for him, the boast gets exposed as empty talk.

Good teams attract good materials. Consider the Los Angeles Lakers in the NBA or the University of the Visayas Green Lancers in the Cesafi. But why is Lakas-Kampi, if it is really a powerhouse group, making do with a Stephen Jackson instead of a Kobe Bryant? Teodoro is no All-Star material, loitering at the bottom of surveys for a reason.

And where’s the Pau Gasol-types for Lakas-Kampi? Ronaldo Puno, considered a wily political operator, wanted to pair off with Teodoro but has backed off from the vice presidential race—again, for a reason. He probably realized that as Lakas-Kampi bet for vice president, he wasn’t going anywhere. But his move exposed the group’s weakness.

Consider what happened when Lakas-Kampi officials went down the list for Puno replacements. They found actress and Batangas Gov. Vilma Santos, then Cebu Gov. Gwendolyn Garcia—and after that nothing much. Which reminds me. When you look at the list of vice presidential hopefuls rated in the surveys, no Lakas-Kampi leader is there.

Compounding the problem is the refusal of Santos and Garcia to bite. Indeed, why would the two run for vice president when their chances of winning a government post are bigger if they seek reelection? Even Ate Vi, as vice presidential material, lags behind a Mar Roxas or a Loren Legarda in terms of voters’ acceptability nationwide.

Compare Lakas-Kampi’s situation with the other political groups. The Liberal Party went through the process seamlessly, with Noynoy Aquino as presidential bet and Mar Roxas as his running mate. Former president Joseph Estrada has a credible bet for VP in Jejomar Binay. Chiz Escudero will probably end up pairing with Loren Legarda.

To be fair, there’s no sign yet that Lakas-Kampi is a sinking ship, although it looks like it is leaking. That’s why it could not get the national-level candidates it needs for a credible 2010 elections run. Besides, it is too identified with President Arroyo, an unpopular incumbent. The results of the 2007 polls are proofs of this lack of popularity.

Given this reality, I don’t see how Teodoro and whoever will be his running mate could climb up and overtake the leading presidentiables come 2010. Gibo is starting at, what, 4 percent? He even needs to climb up more than 30 percent to overtake Manny Villar. That shows you how formidable Aquino’s 60 percent rating is at this stage.

Of course, the elections are still some seven months away but much as I would like to subscribe to the saying that many things can still happen in that span of time, the divide that separates Gibo from Noynoy is a chasm. And if you think local government officials can be the difference between winning and losing, consider again the 2007 polls. I say that for the administration bet to win in 2010, cheating could be the only option.

(This came out in my October 28, 2009 Candid Thoughts column in Sun.Star Cebu)

Noynoy Tops SWS Poll

I have been waiting for the Social Weather Station (SWS) to conduct a survey on people’s preference for president in 2010, this after results of polls involving only limited areas were released last month. Would the result of an SWS survey validate Sen. Benigno Aquino III’s status as the top presidentiable? That was a question that caught my interest.

Finally, SWS released yesterday the result of its “Third Quarter 2009” survey conducted from September 18-21, 2009 on 1,800 adult respondents nationwide. The poll, according to SWS website (www.sws.org.ph) was non-commissioned and “was done on SWS’ own initiative as a public service.” That should lessen suspicions of SWS motive.

I am not fully sold out on surveys, as these are partly dependent on respondents’ understanding of the questions thrown at them. In this survey, part of the question was: “Sinu-sino sa palagay ninyo ang mga magagaling na lider na dapat pumalit kay Pang. Arroyo bilang Presidente? Maaari po kayong magbanggit ng hanggang tatlong sagot.”

The survey result was no different from the others in that Noynoy grabbed the top spot, but his rating this time breached the 60 percent mark. The others virtually settled for crumbs, with Sen. Manuel Villar a far second with 37 percent. Farther down were former president Joseph Estrada with 18 percent and Sen. Francis Escudero with 15 percent.

Defense Secretary Gilbert Teodoro, standard bearer of the administration party Lakas-Kampi and who seems to be the favorite of Gov. Gwendolyn Garcia, continued his miserable run in the surveys, managing to get only four percent. At least Escudero, who appears to be Cebu City Mayor Tomas Osmeña’s preference, is up 11 percent over Gibo.

My take has been that there is still room for Noynoy to improve his rating once he starts to openly woo votes like what, say, Villar has been doing for months now through his infamous infomercials. Aquino is still an enigma to many voters, and this has allowed critics to claim he is TWA (talagang walang alam) without them being contradicted.

Incidentally, supporters of the other presidentiables are already working overtime to pull Noynoy’s rating down by hitting him low. Not content with spreading lies about his gender, they are insinuating he is mentally impaired. I take that as a sign of worry, even desperation. But I doubt if that would have an effect on Noynoy’s rating overall.

(This came out in my October 15, 2009 column in Sun.Star Cebu)

Gift of Screws

My Sunday was spent attending to my young son whose vomiting episodes forced us to bring him to the facility nearest our place, South General Hospital. I therefore didn’t have time to monitor the rage of typhoon Ondoy, which brought floods to Metro Manila, killing more than 200 people, displacing thousands of others and destroying properties..

President Arroyo called Ondoy a “once-in-a-lifetime typhoon” not because it carried strong winds but for the amount of rain that it poured on Metro Manila (a month’s worth of rain fell on the area in only 12 hours). Devastating storms like Ondoy tend to end up in some people’s minds as myth-like, remaining on their lips for even a lifetime.

I used to hear my old folks talk about typhoon Amy. I did some research and found out why my late father Tiyong, who was from Tudela, and my mother Juling, who is from neighboring Poro, all in the Camotes group of islands, referred to Amy with awe. It struck Camotes and other Visayas islands, bringing havoc that took years to forget.

Retired Department of Education division superintendent Elsa Suralta was a young girl when Amy struck Tudela, and she remembered the “diaspora” that happened after that. The storm destroyed coconuts and other agricultural produce of the town. The hardships people suffered forced my uncles Inok and Desing to relocate to Mindanao.

For the next generation, Ruping was it. Cebu is not often hit directly by typhoons, thus the damage brought about by Ruping scarred many Cebuano’s memory. I was in the residence of my brother in Danao when the storm struck. The compound, which was also used as a warehouse of a soft drink firm, was not as exposed to the wind as the others..

Still, the experience led me to write an essay published in Sun.Star Weekend on Dec. 2, 1990. “I can still recall what I felt at the height of Ruping’s fury,” I wrote.” I felt fear. In the dark, I listened as the howling winds lashed mercilessly. I was helpless, unmoving in the midst of the sweeping force I would never have the capacity to control.”

“For me,” I continued, “the most important period is after the storm. For there the lessons stand out clearly. We discover our positive and negative attitudes during stress, and are able to assess the damage and build a stronger foundation in preparation for the next test…The poet Emily Dickinson phrased it beautifully:

“Essential oils are wrung:/ The attar from the rose/ Is not expressed by suns alone,/ It is the gift of screws.”

(I wrote this for my October 1, 2009 Candid Thoughts column in Sun.Star Cebu)