Walkin' in a Winter Wonderland

So Happy Universal Declaration of Human Rights Day.

"How do you spend the whole day hearing that your country is the root of the world's problems?" - texted today to my friend Helen in Bohol.

What made me text this? I thought I'd share my time with you by taking you on a little trip. I'll go through my evening step by step.

Now at the start of the evening, I was in my room...I know because I was there.

Ok, I'm done with crazy movie references most people will never get, but alas.

So ok, really. Tonight has been a crazy night for thoughts and I guess my best way to detox and process them all is to come here and write in my blog.

....

I started the evening walking down Osmena Blvd. towards Fuente Osmena. Looking over to the opposite side of the street I saw it mostly deserted, dry, and dark. This was quite a staggering contrast to this morning. I remembered taking those same steps walking towards the center of the roundabout with my German fellow intern in tow, racing to meet who knew how many people from various human rights delegations to join in a rally in honor of UDHRD (my own acronym). I guess if news hasn't exactly circulated in the states then it's a good time to mention that the "beloved" ASEAN summit has been postponed. They say that it's because of the threat of yet another typhoon that's been scheduled to hit the Visayas region. The thing is that Cebu is rarely hit by typhoons and feels little more than extended rains as throw off from other locations. The real reason? Well the talk here is it's Gloria's increasing attempts, most of them illegal, at her Charter Change and Con-Ass attempts (I'll explain that later if need be). Anyway, the sky then was a lot lighter this morning, but not as much as it should have been. There were dark clouds off in the distance, just to remind us that the typhoon was at least nearby, and to warn us against trying anything outdoorsy. No one seemed to notice, however, and instead all the gathering groups, from the urban poor, student, youth, women's, workers, and any other assembly you could think of were busy readying their own parts of the rally. The urban poor youth had made masks, placards, and ponchos and learned a dance as their part. The artist group I've been working with dressed up one of the girls in the papier mache head of Gloria and two boys joined in painting their bodies white and writing "Stop the Political Killings" on their backs. Debo and I had been told to stand off to the side and observe because of the threats of deporting any internationals who dared join in street rallies, peaceful or not. Still, we were ushered into the crowd and even moved to the front as the rain suddenly turned on and tried to soak us all to our skin. White puddles from the painted boys ahead ran down the streets, and I struggled to keep my bag inside my jacket to keep my camera safe. Thankfully all of the hundreds of placards displaying different victims of political killings had been covered with plastic for just such an event and once the international solidarity group joined, we pressed on down Osmena.

On our way down the street, I noticed police cars with their lights flashing, trying desperately to idle inconspicuously on the side of the road (maybe they should have turned off their lights), reminding us all in some little way why we were there. It seemed that would be all we would see of them. No such luck. A mere two blocks from our arrival location, we were met with a line of policemen, adorned with helmets and shields, stretched across the length of the road to tell us that human rights had little value on this day to them, namely the right to assemble peacefully. You kind of go dumb when you meet police. You don't know whether to go towards them or hide. Especially when you stick out because of your blinding skin. Part of me just wanted to go up and stare one in the face, instead I decided taking a picture would be a good idea, I'm not sure why. A man with a microphone began screaming at the police, demanding that we, as peaceful protesters, be allowed to pass. Moments after saying we would not be allowed to pass, we were being ushered through the streets to our final destination, two blocks away. Is two blocks worth all that? Maybe not in practice, but in principal, it's an ocean. Of course another barricade kept us from the actual side of the street we were supposed to be on, but in my opinion, they actually gave us a safer and more workable space to have our program than we could have had had we asked them.

Speakers began screaming in Cebuano and before long I saw at least a few other white faces who were there to try in their own little way to help. I guess I mention this because it's so strange to see other white faces that aren't the other interns and aren't the nasty white men with their bought women. But white or no, we all stood together as the rain turned on and off, shouting and listening and shouting again.

So why was I looking back and thinking about all of this? Because it was so difficult. Try being only one of two Americans in a vast swarm of people. The whole time, walking down that road, they were screaming...

Kinsa? Kinsa? Kinsa Terrorista? (Who? Who? Who is the terrorist?)
Ang US, si Gloria, sila ang Terrorista! (The US, Gloria, They are the terrorists!)

How did it feel every time? Piercing. Judging. Damning. Truthful.

In some ways you feel like you never thought you could feel it just wasn't important to you. You feel like a traitor. I know deep inside that it's true. That the US is a greedy, imposing, imperialist country. I know that many of the ills of the Philippines come from places like the US, and mostly from the US itself. I know the US government has groomed Filipino leaders, I know it gives money to the Arroyo government for counter terrorism that instead gets spent on extra-judicial killings of priests and community leaders. And yet, still, I felt like somehow it was condemning the whole country, all of us. I felt more and more eyes staring at me, even though I know they weren't. They always say they don't blame the people, just the government, and they want us to understand that, but that's not how it feels when you hear chants like that.

When the international solidarity group was asked to speak, it was one man from Australia. I honestly have to plead ignorance when it comes to the Australian government and their policies. Still, I would consider them a western country of wealth, who is at least somewhat guilty of the imperialism of which the US is constantly accused and guilty. So it's hard to hear an Australian white man say that they are with the Filipino people against the US, and that they too want the US out of their country and to take their bases with them. I don't see Australia really suffering from the US so much as the Filipino people do. I guess he's really only guilty of wanting to stand with the people he hurts for and getting caught up in the moment.

This is the part that catches up with the story and why I was walking at night all the way past Fuente. Trying to find some sort of escape, I noticed two white faces that looked familiar. It was a Canadian couple that works with a film group out of Montreal whom we had met at the Sept. 21st observation of the declaration of martial law under the Marcos dictatorship. I thought it would be nice to at least say hello. It turns out their hosting a three night film festival in a hotel about a mile from CENDET and tonight was the second night. They handed me a flier and rushed off to the meeting they were late for.

So here I was, walking down Osmena, having the hardest battle with myself over the weight of the world that I had somehow propped on my shoulders.

I walked into McDonald's to grab a quick bite because the canteen is closed on Sundays, and thought that Morgan Spurlock really wasted his time in revealing the "villainy" of McDonald's when there are so many more important things in the world than what people chose to eat. How 'bout the people who don't get to eat? How did that Supersize Me obsession start anyway? Damn you, Spurlock, and your pointless documentary. Go to a third world country and better spend your time. But I guess we all have to champion some cause, otherwise some would get lost in the shuffle.

I finally reached the hotel, a little early since most of the attendees are Filipino. So in other words, right on time. The Canadienne noticed me and came over. She gave me some reading material about the group in the Philippines that was sponsoring this event to read while I waited. The group is known as the Southern Tagalog Exposure and into which it is really worth looking. Then came the films.

The theme of the night was "'War on Terror' and US Military bases". Now, I don't know what these movies had to do with the US. They didn't mention the US once, something very unique to the night. I guess they wanted to throw a different light onto the countries where the US has military bases, but still, the theme of the films had nothing to do with the US, at all.

The first was "Game of Their Lives". "The story of how a group of hitherto unknown footballers performed one of the greatest upsets in World Cup history- and promptly vanished back into oblivion. The documentary tracks down North Korea's Cinderella 1966 World Cup team and is an exquisitely filmed exploration of pride, nationalism, friendship, aging, and life as the underdog. With myths exploded around every corner, much of North Korean society comes to resemble something we might even understand, or at least glimpse at its logic." Honestly, I saw little more than a story about football. I saw no myths exploded, maybe a simply blurb at the end that "dispelled" a rumor of them being imprisoned for drunken disorderly conduct, but that's about it. A good movie, but not much on North Korea itself. (The funny thing is they call this the biggest upset in world cup history, but there was a movie made of the same title about a US team in the 1950 World Cup in Brazil that claims the same thing...crazy, huh?)

The second film was "Singapore Rebel" (or here or here). "This documentary-like film on an opposition politician is a work Singapore's censorship board doesn't want people to see. The main protagonist, Chee Soon Juan, has twice been imprisoned for championing democratic change in the city state. The censor declared it a 'Party political film' and it was pulled form the Singapore International Film Festival line-up after the director was warned he could face two years in jail if the screening went ahead." This movie was actually really interesting. You don't really hear much about Singapore, and while it didn't do much in explaining the political situation there, it definitely got me interested in finding out.

The final film was about the Philippines and the Calibrated Pre-Emtive Response (CPR) which is in place for pre-meditated protests, as you could say. Is is called "Batas Busal" and "begins with the June 2005 revelation that seriously put into question the legitimacy of Gloria Macapagal Arroyo's Presidency. It examines how Arroyo impeded investigations, obstructed all legal processes and issued repressive orders such as the 'ccalibrated pre-emptive response', violently blocking all outlets for the legitimate protests of the Philippine people."

After the movies, there was a time for response. Little was said about the movies and more said about the evil US. Not the US government, the US. I have to admit that in my college-aged political activism, I myself have gained a bad taste for the US government that in all respects calls it close to the same things that the people I have heard it called today. I've turned the tables on their terrorism claims by calling it back to them myself, but there is just something sickening about sitting in a room and hearing nothing but bad things about the country. It's hard to hear that while N. Korea is wanting to run nuclear testings that they respect them for standing against the US for not disarming. They were borderline revered in this talk, and I have to say that I wish I knew more about the situation. Still, its more of an idea of if you're against the US, you're ok. And the problem is in each argument I can hear streams of truth and logic.

But since the topic of the movies wasn't stuck to, I'll try to give you the response that I didn't feel I could have given there.

The thing about all these movies is that they're about underdogs. Whether its the team from North Korea, or the opposition party, or the masses of people against a government, they're all somehow on the side you wouldn't expect to win. I, as an American, maybe as a women, but never as an American, will never be the underdog. I'll never be the one cheered for, and maybe I shouldn't ever be. The thing is that even I wouldn't cheer for me. I'm a huge fan of the underdog, and I'd be on their side long before my own. The only person who cheers for the other team is the one who wants to see the underdog lose, and who can be so cold as to do that. It's hard to sit in a room of other-worlders on a day such as today. Today is supposed to be a day when you celebrate an amazing act by a body that's great than you for a cause that's greater than you. That's something we all need to believe in. When we champion a government, and when we talk about nationalism, that's what we're all searching for. We want a government that is greater than us, because it's made up of all of our friends and families, things that are great. So it's so hard to want that from my own country which has more immediate potential to be such a place and instead to sit and hear how much we've failed at that. How even though there aren't the same ills in the US as there are in Singapore, and Northern Korea and the Philippines, we are still just as much the oppressors of human rights and as much guilty of violations because we let things happen. Sitting by and doing nothing makes you just as guilty, seeing things and not doing anything. So when we champion the underdog, let's always remember that it's not ourselves that we'll be cheering for. And sometimes that means letting people be angry with us, because we should be angry at ourselves.

I walked home and passed the Robinson's Mall, which by that time was closed. I realized that in a strangely cheesy, metaphorical way, the US is like a mall at night. I remember sitting in a mall after hours one night with my friend Eric Jones and just talking. No one was there, everyone had gone home. They had left the floor open to the night walkers for a few hours, but they were nowhere to be seen. It was like we owned the whole world, it was strangely exciting for something so stupid as the mall. The thing about a mall at night is there are so many things inside that are just sitting, doing nothing least of which is any good for anyone. All of these things that no one can get to, and no one's using. The US has all of this wealth inside it, most of which isn't being used. And it's just being locked up for no one's use but our own. I'm sorry, this sounded a lot more poignant and inspirational earlier tonight.

So this has been a really hard day and I'm surprised I'm planning on going back for a second dose tomorrow. The international solidarity meeting tomorrow is being held at CENDET at 8:00 am, and yet I'm getting up for it and saying bring it on. Sometimes I don't make sense to myself.

"I know you're not a conservative capitalist pig." - Helen's response

Sometimes it's more important that your friends like you than the rest of the world.

We Are the World

Happy Day 100!!! (ok, so that was actually on the 6th, but you get the point)

How did I celebrate?

Yeah, I heard a lot of really old music from some concert DVDs in the Bohol Sports Bar this weekend where Debo, Helen and I went to talk. A little strange. I saw Bob Dylan, Mic Jagger, Dione Warwick, Patti LaBelle, Kenny Loggins, and a lot of one hit wonders on the Live Aid concert and then got a nice dose of The Police, Eric Clapton, and even Robbie Williams (the only non-80s band) while there, it was crazy.

Oh wait, why was I in Bohol?

Well the Western Visayas Jurisdition of the UCCP church was having one of their meetings and Bohol was hosting. This meant two things for me:

1) Great trip
2) Fellow interns (Helen and Debo)

While most of the meeting mostly went over my head, we did have a great day of travelling aroudn teh south-western quarter of the island to see the main attractions that make Bohol one of the top tourist spots in the Philippines.

We went to see the famous Chocolate Hills, which are said to be coral deposits from millions of years ago when Bohol was completely under the water and are these almost perfectly rounded hills that turn brown in the summer, and the tarsiers, which are the smallest primates in the world.

It took mostly the whole day to vist three sites (two Chocolate Hills locations and one Tarsier habitat). The day culminated for me in sleeping for about three hours on the beach while I should have been swimming in the ocean. Tarsiers can really take it out of you.

We had an amazing dinner that night with the famous pork "lechon" for our "Christmas celebration". Lechon is basically this big pig that's been fried. Yes, the whole pig. I also ate some yummy bi-valves (I don't know exactly what kind) and some weird fish salad type thing. And let me say that where there's a party, there's karaoke, and Filipinos LOVE karaoke. It's more of those cheesey lounge songs, but its great fun to seen grown adults singing and dancing like wild things.

All in all the week was a blast and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I'm sorry there's not a lot more to report from it, but when you travel at night by boat, you don't get much sleep and you tend not be too coherent the next day. I'll try to do better next time.

Peace, I hope

Folsom Prison Blues

I went to jail on Sunday. Well I tried to go to jail, but they wouldn’t let me in.

I went with Rev. Rey and some other PCPR supporters to go visit some political detainees at the Cebu Jail. To enter and visit a prisoner, you have to come of visitation day, have already requested permission to visit, and have a signed approval. I helped type out a letter to Gov. Garcia-Cordilla to ask such permission, and the letter returned with an official governor’s stamp. When we presented this letter, however, we were told we weren’t allowed to enter and that our request was denied.

How many people try to get into jail? And please don’t reference that silly drama television show to me; it doesn’t count. The depressing thing was that while Rev. Rey was arguing with a ranking officer of the PNP, I was reading over the rules for visitation. It says that you must be a relative and you cannot exceed six visitors. We were seven, and I certainly wasn’t even the prisoners third cousin once removed, and certainly didn’t look it. I was a little upset, well actually sincerely disappointed that we were barred from entrance. The saddest part is that the prisoners are there under false pretenses. Their reasons for incarceration are bogus, and the PNP and the government aren’t exactly “following the rules” of those people’s rights. Yet they fully had us on “the rules” for visiting the prisoners. Isn’t it sad that contradiction and hypocrisy? I mostly felt for the detainees.

We were able to visit another detainee who had been transferred to Central Command, where he was basically in solitary confinement, as he was the only prisoner being held there. He is still under the incarceration of the Cebu City Jail, but he has been moved because he was overly complaining about the conditions. Now, since his meals must come from the jail, he sometimes doesn’t eat because they forget to bring him his food.

As we were leaving, I was surprised to hear that this detainee had been arrested for being a part of the NPA and that he actually was. It was a weird feeling to actually have been in the presence of someone in that group, since normally they’re just talked about. They’ve become more to me a ghost story from the government that a real thing, but I guess it does really exist.

So that was how I spent my Sunday.

Today I’ve been getting ready for the JAC conference in Bohol and seeing my two fellow Western Visayas interns. Surprisingly and happily so, Debo arrived this morning in Cebu and came with me to attend a press conference for KARAPATAN and PCPR against the ASEAN summit. Quite exciting. I think it might be on the news tonight.

And as a final laugh at myself for the day, I went on my own to the post office, which should be just one jeep ride there and one back. However, I managed to get on the right jeep going the wrong way for my trip home and managed to end up halfway across town. The great thing is that I realized my mistake before too long because I’ve finally gotten my bearings in the city. I got off, crossed the street and got on another jeep. In totally the trip home costed P12 for my blunder, which is less than $0.25, which is much cheaper than the P50 (or $1) cab ride that would have taken care of the directions for me. That makes quite a difference here on my budget and I am proud of my persistence in getting home and learning a valuable lesson in asking the direction before I get too lost (I don’t even know where we were going!).

And as a final high note, speaking of the post office, I received a wonderful package of Christmas music and twizzlers today. So I am quite the happy soul. I’m just really thirsty now.

Peace, I hope

It's beginning to look at lot like Christmas...well....

aIt actually doesn't really look like a Christmas I've seen before. However, I do have with me my two Christmas requirements and am thus armed to have at least a semblance of a proper Christmas. What are these things? Only the two greatest Christmas movies EVER.

No, not ACS, not White Christmas, not that silly Jimmy Stewart movie either.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas (anim. by Chuck Jones, with the voice talents of the infamous Boris Karloff, Thurl "Tony the Tiger" Ravenscroft, and June Forey as Cindy-Lou-Who)
and
Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol (you know Jim Bakus? aka Thurston Howell III)

I happen to be absolutely in love with these movies. It's basically a life long relationship, and we're very happy together. Not only can I sing all of the songs in both, but I can quote you the Grinch from start to finish, movie or book, take your pick...

So anyway, back to the topic. I did something rather stupid the other day. A momentary lapse of intelligence. I was coming to the IC the other day and saw off in the distance lights in the shape of a palm tree. Stupidly I thought, how quaint, thinking the lights were pre-arranged like that as some sort of lights you might use at a summer barbeque or something. Yeah, it sounds stupid and I bet you can guess where this goes. It turns out, since they're in quite an abundance here on an ISLAND, they really were palm trees with lights hung on them. The funny thing was they were in front of the VCMC hospital which is quite decked out for the holidays, no joke intended. There are lights everywhere, stars in trees, a huge nativity scene and to top it all off, speakers blaring Christmas music. The music is mostly techno and modern pop-ish versions of some classics, really weird sounding actually. I wonder how blasting music at ten at night helps the older people admitted there. I mean, don't get me wrong, music is a great healing aid, but I'm not sure in this capacity.

I don't know if I've mentioned this, but they've erected a rather interesting, rather large Christmas tree in the center of the round-about at Fuente Osmena. It's made of some Filipino-ish items including huge flowers and some traditional light shaped luminaries (I forget what theyr'e called). Most of the decorations are made out of shiny foil paper. And to top it off the Bradford Church at the entrance to the CENDET complex is lined with deep red lights, something I'm not used to seeing on churches.

The odd thing is that it still doesn't feel like Christmas. My mind knows what time it is, hence why I am concious of needing my movies. However it doesn't really feel like Christmas. I guess part of that is that it's only the beginning of December, and I have yet to attend an Advent service at the church. But I am always thinking that it's Summer when I'm here, I don't feel I have to tell you why. I wonder how things will progress in the coming weeks. We shall see together.

The only other grand thing to write about is the great time I've had working with the cultural group for the mobilizations during the ASEAN summit. We have been working on a mural and some jigantes, or effigies. Right now we're working on one of Gloria Marcapagal-Arroyo and George W. Bush. They've created a rather likened image of him, I think it's the mouth. It's very funny to be papier maching a large head of the president in a different country, but it's a funny life I guess.

Coming up, Bohol and my dear friends Helen and Debo. I have no idea when I'll be leaving, but I can hardly wait.

Peace I hope