Tears of a Giraffe

What set this book apart from other books on Africa is because it portrays Africa as it is and not as the helpless demoralized famine stricken continent that the westerners are bound to project. The book explores the tragedy of a White woman loosing his son ten years ago and wanted to have a closure. It turns out that her son fell into a thorn pit and was dragged by the lover of his lover into an anthill where his body eventually became one with the earth leaving no trace. In the midst of her search for the answers, the head of the no.1 ladies detective agency has to balance her engagement to a mechanic with a sinister hosehold help and two newly adopted children.

This is a light read but it changed my views of Africa. I hope there are books like this that will change the images of the Philippines. We have moral characters too that exist and our lives go beyond the drudgery of war, drugs and corruption. It just takes a voice like Alexander McCall Smith to start the transformation.

Irresponsible Ces Drilon Released

I am against the way media is projecting Ces Drilon is a hapless victim in her kidnapping when in the final analysis she brought her predicament upon herself. There are a lot of victims of this vilent and reproachable act who never took chances with fate like she did.

Sometimes heroics should be weighed as to how much courage and responsibility one gives in the performance of a good act. In her reckless pursuit for a none existing story, Ces Drilon ignored the usual precautions and endangered her life and her crew. clearly that is not responsible journalism.

By being kidnapped for nine days, she just opened up old wounds and lead us back into the ages when the mere mention of Sulu and Zamboanga send shivers to the spine of anyone residing in Luzon and echoing into the international community (her release is on the headlines of yahoo today). She justified the military's request for more funds when it could be used for education and health projects. She justified the war in Mindanao. She placed the peace process a thousand steps back to where it started.

I do not believe she just got off easily from her predicament with just the laway of Sen Loren Legarda. Ten years from now, when the light shines low on her career, she will look back and write a book and just like Gracia Burnham, she will tell us all what really happened. By then few will be interested and would have forgotten who she is and what all of this was about.

For now, I apologize for not being able to emphatize.

May 29 Zamboanga Bombing

Finally the sun was out and everyone was glad to be able to enjoy the last few days of summer without the rains. The traffic early that morning was steadily growing into a pack but still manageable until school day traffic. The army dependents were waiting in front of the Edwin Andrews airbase for the scheduled C130 flight to Manila. Some on the flight to prepare for the coming school year. some to start jobs in Manila. Others to get the last chance to fritter away the last few days of the vacation.

There was an announcement a delay because of the US ambassadors visit to Pagadian and the President's visit to Tawi tawi. The passengers became restless. Some have scheduled appointments for that morning. but everyone was ready for the hitches, it was a free ride anyway. The sun was slowly drying the dew off the cemented pavement. The vendor of the fruit stand across the gate began his daily routine of arranging ripe papayas tied with straw on nails attached to roof beams of his makeshift stall. The bananas were packed on a box underneath a plywood table. He opened the wooden crate filled with marang and the passengers suddenly were hit by the intoxicating smell of the fruit.

The owner of the barbecue stand near the Blue Diamond started cleaning the grill by scraping the fat drippings and the sweeping the bamboo sticks strewn on the ground. The sari-sari stores were opening shop. The jeepneys and motorcycles hug the road going to the camins intersection like they all own the road without any consideration of other vehicles running the same street.

It was a clear hot sunny day. Then a person riding on the back of the driver of a motorcycle threw a package towards the waiting passengers across the base gate.

23 injured. 2 dead. I am not sure of the statistics. I do not understand why they do this. This place could be beautiful but they choose to make it otherwise and they seem not to be affected about it. Parang okay lang sa kanila na ganito. So I do not dream of change of development here. What is here is what this place can offer. Yun na yun. don't go on lofty ideal setting for things, but just go on with the flow.

Myanmar: I hope it stays that way

While shopping for a PSP in Singapore, the salesclerk asked me if I come from Myanmar. How dare them! Not exactly my initial reaction but that was my friend's reaction. "Do those singaporeans know the former name of Myanmar?"

I never took it as a derogatory remark. I have been mistaken for an Indonesian, an Indian, a Malaysian and a native of Myanmar, but never as Filipino. I am beginning to accept that as a people we actually do not have a stereotype. We always conform and eventually do not have an identity.

Going back to the topic. I know it is cruel to hope that the country stay that way, with the military rule and the devastation caused by the recent calamities, only hard hearted persons like me could wish for that. But you see, once Myanmar opens up to the world, eventually the Philippines will be left behind.

Kulelat na talaga and Pilipinas. Once Myanmar gets its act together with a new government and a very active citizenry, Philippines will be the rock bottom of all the growth and economic boom surveys.

Kaya nga sana ganun muna sana ang Myanmar.

Museum of the Filipino Poeple

Although we were allowed to take pictures, I think it is improper to the National Museum if I post the ones I took.

I have been to the National Museum three times before this wonderful tour. The first was on a High School field trip when the Senate was still on the premises. the old musty and cobweb laden displays of stuffed animals were all I can remember plus of course the Spolarium. The second was with a date whom I was trying to impress during college. There I failed miserably. The third was with friends, but it was more for fun looking at the displays and trying to figure out things on our own and debating on facts we have no real knowledge on.

Since I have made a rule that it will not just be shopping that will fill my schedules during my trips to Manila and abroad, I decided that everytime I travel, I will make time for either a play, concert or a museum tour. Luckily, there was a National Museum tour on the dates of my visit to Manila. So it was a big thing on the list of things to do. The meetings and the shoping seemed secondary as I looked forward for that Sunday morning tour.

True enough, the tour was a wonderful and eye opening experience. It made me feel proud to be a Filipino.

Before going into the tour, Rajo Laurel was speaking on the television on why the Filipinos were the first global citizens. It turns out the archipelago 40,000 years ago were parts of Asia and Australia. Elephant remains were excavated in the islands as proof. Early inhabitants of the islands were shellfish eaters. That explained the collumns of clam shells in the exhibit area. There were galleries for archeology site and deep water excavations.

The tour of the national treasure the manungul jar was the highlight of one gallery which included excavated jar covers shaped into human faces. The tribal costumes were excellent, with the Bagobo garbs colors showing shades reminiscent of the colors of Armani and Gucci clothes.

It was amazing that ordinary utensils used by Maranaos were made colorful with ukkil carvings. Even the plows used in rice fileds and fishnets were adorned with these designs.

I like most the story of how a T'boli weaver of ikat cloth gets her designs through self induced fever and dreams. I thought that stuff are only for the movies.

The San Diego galleries were beautiful but I guess it did not interest me much personally. Here John Silva's comments practically made the stop bearable. Seeing an original 16th century astrolab if that is the highlight of the gallery as it is the only one displayed in a museum is worth the stop.

We crossed the street to the old legislative building and passing through the lobby with the whimsical Impy Pilapil chandeliers, we were lead into the hall of two great Filipino Masters. Juan Luna's "Spolarium" and Hidalgo's "The Assasination of Governor Bustamante by the Friars" stood across each other on the great hall. It was Luna's painting though that gives the room energy. On the farthest end of the room, two wounded and lifeless gladiators were being dragged into the darkness while on one side a distraught woman turned on her back was in a pose of grief as onlookers packed and peered on the opposite end. The painting won the first price of a prestigious Spanish competition with Hidalgo's placing second.

All these years, its significance for me was limited to that idea. The "Spolarium" was great because it won a prize. However, as the great John Silva narrated the circumstances and events that followed after its celebrated victory- Jose Rizal's speech, the branding of Rizal as subersive and his eventual writing of the Noli and Fili, changed my perspective. It was not just the beauty of the work and the metaphor behind, but the fuelling of a revolution that made it great. I stood in awe. There were tears bordering on my eyelids. It made me proud.

There were other works on display by national artists and other painters. The contrast between the romanticized version of Francisco's First Mass and Manansala's Planting of the Cross were a striking and impressive way to view art and history and the Filipino society. It helped me realize how flawed our education system is and how it should be salvaged.

If you have time during the dates on the poster, I highly recommend joining the tour. I use to think when I go on tour of museums in other countries that their collections were more impressive than ours. This tour have made it all wrong. We have a wealth of history and art that is waiting for us to discover and eventually make us appreciate and proud of who we are.

Coming of Age: Zamboanga City

It's about time. They are beginning to construct new buldings. They have neglected the progress of this city for so long and people are just relying on miracles to make development happen. With thoughts of a mall in most of everyone's wishlist. It is really still a way long long time before that happens. Meanwhile we just have to content ourselves with small successes.

Two years ago the first coffee shop hit the scene. People thought it will be a flop but since then coffee shops are sprouting slowly like orchids, rare but they are there.

Finally, a place serving gourmet italian and continental dishes. Pizza parlors have come and go. Fine dining restaurants have closed their doors. All because consumers are enslaved to the taste of jollibee and grilled seafood. Let's just say that was the taste of Davao consumers ten years ago. That is how behind the city is.

But bravo, one local restaurant "Country Chicken" have decided to reinvent itself by changing the menu featuring puttanesca, fabada, four cheese pizza. I don't know how long this dream will last. But hopefully it does for a long time.

I Lost Another Rosary

I cannot remember when I started wearing a rosary in my pocket. I cannot even remember how many I have lost. I used to wear black beaded rosaries initially but I eventually loose them and bemoan how expensive they are. Since then I started wearing the brown wooden ones. I love the rosaries I have lost because all of them are the ones I have put my strength and devotion in through the rough times in my life. The prayer have guided me when my thoughts hover all over the place. Before the rosaries were placed in my right hand pocket but since I wanted to make my body symmetrical for the feeling that I have been using the half of my body most, I flipped the orientation of things in my jeans pockets. So there, I lost the rosary I have been using since fellowship. I thought it will suddenly turn up in my clothes or room or the car, but its been five days now. Now i officially declare that it is lost and I opened a plastic case of the rosary given by the Carmelite sisters last year.