Safe and Sound by Azure Ray

with every word, I live again
through the eyes of another
we'll meet at night wet from the rain
and surprise each other
with how we take away the pain
could you be the one to find me safe and sound?
love is how it's lost, not how it's found

I dont know those eyes, but I see beauty there, always
I know its wrong to love you from afar, but it's a craze
you recognize my pain
could you be the one to find me safe and sound?
love is how it's lost, not how it's found
love is how it's lost, not how it's found

you take away my pain
could you be the one to find me safe and sound?
love is how it's lost, not how it's found
love is how it's lost, not how it's found

oh, I'll take away your pain
could you be the one to find me safe and sound?
love is how it's lost, not how it's found
love is how it's lost, not how it's found

love is how I'm lost, not how I'm found...

My 2012 in Stories

I'll tell you the story of a how a year becomes a year, one of hope and promises, of new beginnings and starting overs, of adventures and backpacking trips, of standing up again and learning the lessons.  Of victories and defeats. It's a year of putting up with the rains to be swept off by the magic of the rainbows.

My 2012 began even before it actually did. The story started with the storytellers themselves, in a place wiped out by Sendong, in the company of strangers, on Christmas day the year before. We heard stories of men and women who lost everything in a place they once called home. It is a glaring lesson of how one can lose it all. And the least that Jes and I could do was to tell their story on JANUARY 5, 2012:

By Jes Aznar and Iris Gonzales 

Their story started on a quiet Friday night, supposedly the end of another week at work, the start of a much-awaited weekend with loved ones, just nine days before Christmas Day. The place is northern Mindanao.

Cong Corrales

Leonardo Vicente “Cong” Corrales sat in front of a borrowed computer to write what just happened.  Tropical storm Sendong ripped through the province and other parts of northern Mindanao.   

As a provincial correspondent for various local and foreign media agencies, Cong had to report on the devastation.  The storm had left hundreds dead, homeless and missing. The morgues were overflowing.  The streets were flooded. Cadavers were floating along with heaps of trash. Crumbs of homes were all over. 

But after three hours, the only words that came out were: “Cagayan de Oro City. By Cong Corrales, correspondent.”

Saturday, December 17, 2011.  A few hours before, Cong and his family rushed to the roof of their wooden house to escape the flashfloods unleashed by the surging storm.

They waited for the waters to subside. In the darkness, they could hear the cries of pain.

People were shouting the names of missing loved ones. The screams for help went on for hours, struggling to be heard amidst the sounds of the howling winds. 

Cong’s home, the second floor of a two-story shelter, is along Burgos Street, Barangay La Consolacion, one of the hardest hit areas in the province. 

The morning after the flood, Cong’s home was a portrait of mayhem. Everything was covered with the thickest mud and the stench of garbage filled the damp air.
But Cong did not have enough time to clean the trash.
He had a story to write. 

“But I did not know where to start,” Corrales said. 

Cong is one of at least 35 journalists from Cayagan and Iligan affected by the storm. Two Iligan-based journalists died while others lost everything. 

Merlyn Manos 

GMA-7 correspondent Merlyn Manos, a single mother to two children, was already asleep when the floods came. She was in deep slumber in a worn-out white nightie, exhausted from a day’s work. She was out all day doing a feature story about the Christmas Village in the center of town.  Her son roused her from sleep. “The house is flooded!” he said in a shaking voice. Their house is a small rented space in Green Village, Hinaplanon, Iligan City.

Merlyn had no time to pack. She managed to slip on a shirt before they rushed out to the roof. They could not open the door, as the waters were already high. The only way out was through the hole for the air conditioning unit. 

The winds were wild and the waves were punching hard. Merlyn felt it was the end. 

“I felt then that we were going to die,” she said.

From above, they could hear the cries of mercy – loud, shrieking screams for help from mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, sons and daughters. 

“We could not do anything. We were helpless up there,” she said. As Sendong battered their street, the shouts grew louder. 

They went back to the house when the waters subsided. It was then that Merlyn realized she had lost everything. 

“When I went to my room, I saw my laptop floating.  I said to myself, ‘it’s gone. It’s gone,’” Merlyn said. 

But by 12 noon, Merlyn had to file a story. Her desk had called. She had to report something. Amidst the chaos, she managed to do a phone patch — a live report via telephone — as it is known in broadcast industry parlance. Merlyn ended up reporting her own story. At that time, she did not imagine how she would be able to work again without her laptop and camera.

Jigger Jerusalem

Jigger Jerusalem, a correspondent of The Philippine Star in Cagayan de Oro, also lost his laptop in the flood; and everything else in the rented room where he stays. 

“Now, I have to start from scratch again. I have to buy new things and tools. I need a digital camera and a laptop,” said Jigger. 

But Jigger can’t bring himself to write just yet. The trauma is still very fresh. At night, he can still see in his inner mind’s eye the flood of mud that gatecrashed his room. He can still hear the winds and the screams from little voices, the cries for help; the sounds of panic, desperation and pain. 

“I promise I will write again when the time comes when I can again function as a working journalist,” Jigger said. On January 4, Jigger’s by-line appeared again on the front page of the Philippine Star. He wrote a story on the opening of classes in CDO. 

Bonita Ermac 

She works as a correspondent for Mindanao Gold Star Daily in Iligan.  When the floods came, Bonita, also a single mom, secured her son and her 80-year old mother. 

“From our room, we went down to the kitchen. The waters were already high. We had to hold on to wooden bars in the ceiling. My 80-year old mother was with us. She was hospitalized after because of pneumonia. 

After that, Bonita could not think of writing again just yet.
“I lost all my things,” she said.

Michael Kundimann (missing) 

Leni Kundiman lost her husband, Michael and her home. Michael was a radio reporter and news anchor and the last time Leni heard his voice was at the height of Sendong’s wrath. 

They held on to a rope just outside their house in Bayug Island in Iligan City but a shanty that had been washed away by the flood hit Michael. His voice trailed off and was never seen again since that night. 

Bayug Island had been wiped out. What used to be a village where hundreds of families lived and survived the daily fare is now a barren lifeless land. There are no more homes, just makeshift wooden altars with candles and flowers for the dead. The laughter of children who used to roam around will never be heard again. 

There’s only a deafening silence and an eerie shade of gray in Bayug Island and in the rest of Iligan and Cagayan. 

But the story does not end here. Each and every journalist affected by Sendong will carry on. 

“Padayon,” as they say it. They will again find the words and capture the images. They will start again and again and they will keep on telling other peoples’ stories the way they used to do before howling winds and a merciless storm struck that fateful Friday night.  

(This project is produced by Jes Aznar and Iris Gonzales, in cooperation with the Center for Community Journalism and Development and the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines. To those who wish to help the affected journalists, you may call the NUJP office at at (02) 3767330.) 

Then there's the story of smugglers and tax evaders, which I tried to tell in a book with Jes and in a special report.  Inside the Lion's Den is our first book, our blood, sweat and tears all smeared on each and every page. People who promised to help did not while those whose help we could not afford gave us so much more. In the end, we did it and we made it. There we were, Inside the Lion's Den.

Below is the epilogue:

Inside the Oarhouse Pub in Malate, a well-known watering hole of journalists and artists, three documentary photographers are scratching their heads in frustration.

A Canon film camera has just arrived from the United States and they are to take turns taking a single shot, as part of an international photography project.

But they can’t do that anymore. The camera is not working and they’re pinning the blame on Customs people.

“Customs must have opened it. There’s no other explanation,” one of them says in between sips of ice-cold beer one early Thursday evening.

They are huddled by the bar scrutinizing the camera, which arrived in the Philippines via a global parcel service provider, sealed in a plastic wrap.

It’s a long way from US shores but nobody knows for sure if it was opened.

As it is around the globe, here in the Philippines, citizens are wary of Customs people. The impressions or misimpressions are endless – they open parcels, they slap unreasonable duties on goods entering the country or hell, they steal your stuff.

The view inside the bureau isn’t much different. But there’s so much more.

It is a fragmented agency shaped by centuries of reforms and different leaders with the end goal of fulfilling its mandate of raising revenues while at the same time protecting the country’s borders from the illegal entry of goods.

There are varying expert opinions on how to address the problem of corruption and smuggling in the bureau.

Former Customs Commissioner Titus B. Villanueva believes that the bureau should evolve more as an efficient trade facilitator, instead of a generator of revenues while former another Customs Commissioner Alberto D. Lina says professionalizing the bureau through higher pay is the key.

Providing the agency with additional budget to modernize its equipment in the different borders should also be a priority, insiders say.

Indeed, the list of solutions is endless. The challenge is for the bureau’s present and future leaders and employees to confront the demands of modern trade and more sophisticated smuggling methods in the years to come.

A glimpse inside has shown me that the Bureau of Customs is a bureaucracy teeming with success and failure, with excellence and mediocrity, with courage and cowardice, with genuine public service and corruption, with love and hate.

I long to write a perfect ending to this reportage, perhaps to say that the better side has triumphed over the other but reality intrudes.

What I saw inside is a strange enigmatic weaving of the two conflicting sides. The result is a bureaucracy where lawlessness is governed by rules, where there is honor among thieves, and where lions live in perfect harmony with lambs. Self-preservation and survival are guided by idealism and as shady deals are sealed in the different Customs offices, Mother Mary watches by.

I am in awe of the men and women who are at home here, they who find serenity in the bedlam. To quote the great playwright George Bernard Shaw, “I never thought much of the courage of a lion tamer. Inside the cage he is at least safe from people.” 

FEBRUARY was a quite a blast, literally. A boat ride took us to the islands of Palawan, where Jes and I swam and sang under the scorching sun and spinning stars. 

MARCH is always about a birthday. But this year, my thoughts went beneath the rubble:

BAYUG ISLAND, Iligan City – For the skies, it was just another spit of rain, perhaps just stronger than in previous days. 

But for people whose lives are shared with loved ones and are measured not by routines of Mother Nature but by family ties and relationships, the rains were a curse. A curse so mad, merciless and unforgiving. 

And that curse is seen everywhere here in Bayug Island: devastated houses, coconut trees; shattered windowpanes, slabs of remaining concrete, crushed roofs; clothes; wooden dressers; sofas; refrigerator; photographs; mattresses. 

The island, traditionally considered as the first settlement in Iligan, has now become a desolate land that breathed its last breath that fateful Friday night when waves, as if furious, came and pared off hectares and hectares of Bayug’s villages. 

Located at the mouth of Mandulog River, the island has an estimated land area of 300 hectares, home to some 400 families scattered around 8 sub-villages. 

Now, large portions of the coastal village are barren. There are only makeshift altars assembled out of left over pieces of wood, for candles and flowers for the dead. 

Most of the survivors have sought refuge in cramped evacuation centers – public schools turned temporary shelters or tent cities donated by aid agencies. 

Danny Gongob is among those who survived. But he lost his wife and two children.
I met him a day after Christmas Day, standing on a small square of concrete where their house used to stand, where the family used to live, where he slept with his wife and children every single night; where they used to spend Christmas Days together. 

Now, there is nothing but a makeshift altar with a flickering candle and a bunch of pink and white flower petals for his missing loved ones. 

And their dark red Spongebob mattress covered with the thickest mud, which he found a few meters away. 

It was very dark when the storm came that night, he says. The grip of the waves was strong and howling, drowning the sounds of children who screamed for help. 

But for Danny, there’s no time to grieve too long. He is back in Bayug only for a brief moment, as he will be going around the city and nearby villages in search of his wife and children. 

Dodo Nagayag, another survivor, lost his mother and three siblings but he, too does not have enough time to weep. 

To survive, Dodo must salvage whatever pieces of scrap metal left of their house and their neighbors’ too.  He will sell this for ten pesos a kilo. 

With bare hands and some stones and slabs of concrete, Dodo tries to pull out from the rubble whatever rusty metal bars he could find and even the iron sheets crumpled by the waves.

In APRIL, I added my voice in story on human rights issues around the world.

Bloggerstatements zum Thema "Menschenrechte und Internet"

The Google Collaboratory Project is out. Below is the video that includes my blogger statement on human rights and the Internet.

MAY is about Mother's Day. I disagree with celebrating it because everyday is mother's day but then again, who wants to say no to a day filled with some extra love? 

In JUNE, we woke up in Frankfurt, Germany, walked the cobblestone streets of Bonn, backpacked through Berlin and gatecrashed Documenta 13 in Kassel. In between, I stood on a platform to send Jes off as he went to even faraway cities.

In JULY, the sweet bitter taste of our trip lingered:

I heard the story of a battered woman in AUGUST:

For 13 long years she endured the beatings. It wasn’t so rough at first, she says, and every time it happened she hoped with fingers crossed that it would be the last. 

One morning, she woke up and realized that finally, she wanted to end her troubled marriage, to stop the beatings and everything else. 

Her name is Winnie Penaredondo. She calls herself a survivor and an advocate against violence against women. 

I met her one afternoon at the launch of a project for justice and healing aimed at survivors of gender-based violence and organized by the Women’s Feature Service, a news service for women. 

Winnie skips the details of her life as a ‘battered wife’. What she stresses is that women who experience violence should realize that they could get out of their situation. 

As a survivor-advocate, Winnie is involved in the Justice and Healing Project, which aims to ‘educate and capacitate the various components of judicial systems to be able to deliver rights based and gender sensitive services’, in cases of violence against women. 

Under the two-year project, there are various activities ranging from barangay (local government) forums to workshops and training for the judiciary and legal practitioners.
One objective is to educate all genders in the community about violence against women and how to address it together. Most importantly, the project aims to facilitate legal and psychosocial assistance to women victims and survivors, in order to facilitate faster recovery and reintegration. 

Winnie recalls that one difficult part of being a battered wife is the feeling of shame and isolation. This, she laments, is what prevents victims from speaking out and seeking help.
In the Philippines, violence against women remains rampant. 

According to the 2008 National Demographic and Health Survey (NDHS) conducted by the government’s statistics office, women aged 15 to 49 have experienced all forms of violence including physical, sexual, emotional and economic. Specifically, one in five women in this age group has experienced physical violence since age 15. 

‘14.4 per cent of married women have experienced physical abuse from their husbands and more than one-third or 37 per cent of separated or widowed women have experienced physical violence, implying that domestic violence could be the reason for separation or annulment,’ the survey said. 

For women like Winnie, the fight isn’t over. She says part of her healing is to help others get out of their situation. 

And that is what she will keep doing until she is able to help as many victims as she can.
Indeed, violence against women is a story that needs to be told and re-told over and over; not something to be ignored or tucked beneath the quiet sheets of matrimonial beds. It needs to be written about until no woman anywhere in the world shall experience the might of the fist ever again.

In SEPTEMBER, I stood up against a simple gag order put in place at a time when the Freedom of Information Bill has become a forgotten measure.

DOF gag order  

A memo forbidding Finance officials from speaking to the media demonstrates how urgent the passage of the FOI bill is 

By Iris C. Gonzales
FINANCE SECRETARY Cesar Purisima has issued a memo forbidding officials of the Department of Finance (DOF) from speaking to the press on matters not related to their duties as fiscal authorities. 

The memo was dated July 19 and released to the media on July 23. 

Dubbed as a gag order by some members of the press covering the Finance department, the memo was issued to “ensure that the DOF’s policy pronouncements are clearly communicated to the public." 

“Officials are advised not to comment on issues that go beyond their scope of authority. If they do so, the media (are) advised that said official does not reflect the position of the Department and such comments are made on their own personal capacity,” Purisima said in the order. 

He listed the Finance officials covered by the order as follows:

• On all matters pertaining to the Domestic Finance Group – Undersecretary Jeremias N. Paul, Jr. and Assistant Secretary Ma. Teresa S. Habitan;

• On all matters pertaining to the Revenue Operations and Legal Affairs Group – Undersecretary Carlo A. Carag;

• On all matters pertaining to the International Finance Group – Undersecretary Rosalia V. De Leon;

• On all matters pertaining to the Corporate Affairs Group and Privatization Group – Undersecretary John Philip P. Sevilla;

• On all matters pertaining to the Policy Development and Management Services Group – Undersecretary Gil S. Beltran.

Not surprisingly, Finance reporters found the memorandum out of order, and some beat reporters wrote about it. 

BusinessMirror reporter VG Cabuag, in a July 24 article, quoted an unnamed source in the department as saying that since Purisima took over as Finance chief in 2010, “there has been oral instruction that bars other officials from making statements to the media, especially on the state of the Philippine economy, among others, but this was the first time that such order was formalized.” 

PPP: The Trigger Point 

Several days before Purisima issued the memorandum, beat reporters wrote a story on the potential contribution of the government’s public-private partnership (PPP) infrastructure projects on economic growth. 

The story, which quoted Finance Undersecretary Beltran, focused on what the PPP could have contributed to the economy had the program taken off last year as the Aquino administration promised. 

This writer was among those who wrote the story, which was published also in the July 19 issue of The Philippine Star: 

“The Philippine economy could grow by an additional two percentage points this year if the government is able to bid out all eight infrastructure projects under its PPP program,” a Finance official said.

Given these estimates Finance Undersecretary Gil Beltran said the Philippine economy has the potential to grow by seven to eight percent this year from the official target range of five percent to six percent if the PPP projects are rolled out as planned.

However, Beltran noted that state spending has been improving. 

At the same time, he said that spending would improve further if the PPP projects planned for the year would be bid out.”

No gag order

In a dialogue with reporters after a July 26 press conference, Purisima denied that he meant to gag Finance officials.

“It’s not a gag order,” he said.

He said the memo was issued merely to make sure that the DOF official being interviewed by the press knows what he or she is talking about.

He also said the order was necessary so that Finance officials who talk to the press do not discuss policy matters outside their areas.

“You have to have some discipline,” he said, referring to officials who discuss with Finance reporters issues outside their expertise.

However, what Purisima failed to note was that the discussions on the PPP including its contributions to the economy are not outside the scope of the Finance department.

In fact, in November 2010, it was Purisima himself, together with other government economic managers, who led the launch of the PPP program in a two-day conference at the posh Marriot Hotel in Pasay.

At the time, Purisima hailed the event as a success, saying that a lot of investors had already expressed interest in the various projects in the pipeline.

“We’re very excited. There has been a lot of firm interest among investors,” Purisima said then.

In fact, he also announced that year that the PPP Program can be implemented in about a year’s time or within 2011.

However, until today, only one of the 10 originally proposed projects have been bid out. The rest are still awaiting approval.

The sole PPP project awarded was the P1.956-billion Daang Hari-South Luzon Expressway Road Project. This was awarded to the Ayala Corporation.

The FOI bill

Purisima’s memorandum order comes at a time when the Aquino administration has been criticized for its failure to prioritize the Freedom of Information (FOI) bill.

President Benigno Aquino III, who delivered his third State of the Nation Address (SONA) on July 23, was widely criticized for not even mentioning the bill.

It cannot be denied that as head of the government’s economic team, Purisima reflects the Aquino administration’s attitude to media access to information and to dealing with the press in general.

On July 26, National Union of Journalists of the Philippines chairman Nestor Burgos Jr. said that without the passage of the measure, the Aquino administration’s supposed advocacy for transparency and accountability would not be comprehensive and sufficient.

The bill seeks to allow citizens to access to information including government documents upon formal request.

President Aquino himself promised to press for the enactment of the FOI bill, saying that this was a strategic pillar of his “daang matuwid” platform of good governance and accountability.

But Purisima’s policy is clearly the opposite of transparency and accountability.

Indeed, the irony is stark and telling. If the chief economic manager’s move is an indication of what’s in store for the press under this administration, it’s likely that there won’t be an FOI Law during its watch.

No gag order

In a dialogue with reporters after a July 26 press conference, Purisima denied that he meant to gag Finance officials. 

“It’s not a gag order,” he said. 

He said the memo was issued merely to make sure that the DOF official being interviewed by the press knows what he or she is talking about. 

He also said the order was necessary so that Finance officials who talk to the press do not discuss policy matters outside their areas. 

“You have to have some discipline,” he said, referring to officials who discuss with Finance reporters issues outside their expertise. 

However, what Purisima failed to note was that the discussions on the PPP including its contributions to the economy are not outside the scope of the Finance department.

In fact, in November 2010, it was Purisima himself, together with other government economic managers, who led the launch of the PPP program in a two-day conference at the posh Marriot Hotel in Pasay. 

At the time, Purisima hailed the event as a success, saying that a lot of investors had already expressed interest in the various projects in the pipeline. 

“We’re very excited. There has been a lot of firm interest among investors,” Purisima said then. 

In fact, he also announced that year that the PPP Program can be implemented in about a year’s time or within 2011.

However, until today, only one of the 10 originally proposed projects have been bid out. The rest are still awaiting approval. 

The sole PPP project awarded was the P1.956-billion Daang Hari-South Luzon Expressway Road Project. This was awarded to the Ayala Corporation. 

The FOI bill 

Purisima’s memorandum order comes at a time when the Aquino administration has been criticized for its failure to prioritize the Freedom of Information (FOI) bill. 

President Benigno Aquino III, who delivered his third State of the Nation Address (SONA) on July 23, was widely criticized for not even mentioning the bill. 

It cannot be denied that as head of the government’s economic team, Purisima reflects the Aquino administration’s attitude to media access to information and to dealing with the press in general. 

On July 26, National Union of Journalists of the Philippines chairman Nestor Burgos Jr. said that without the passage of the measure, the Aquino administration’s supposed advocacy for transparency and accountability would not be comprehensive and sufficient. 

The bill seeks to allow citizens to access to information including government documents upon formal request. 

President Aquino himself promised to press for the enactment of the FOI bill, saying that this was a strategic pillar of his “daang matuwid” platform of good governance and accountability. 

But Purisima’s policy is clearly the opposite of transparency and accountability. 

Indeed, the irony is stark and telling. If the chief economic manager’s move is an indication of what’s in store for the press under this administration, it’s likely that there won’t be an FOI Law during its watch.

OCTOBER was historic because of the signing of a peace pact between Muslim rebels and the government.  It is hopefully, the end of an era of conflicts and lost lives.

We lost Tiong Ed in NOVEMBER, the same month three years ago when the country lost 53 people to a massacre that sees no justice still.

In the same month, I told the story of a man named Enrique Razon, a ports tycoon and every president's friend.

DECEMBER took us to a paradise called Cloud 9, a few hours in an 800-dollar-a-night villa, then to hell and back.

There it goes, a few days left before 2013. I look forward to another year of stories, found in different time zones, between the yellow sun, the dancing stars and the deep blue sea.

The End of the World

The world ends tomorrow, at least the media hype over the Mayan prediction says so.

And so if I die in my sleep, I will go with chocolate-sweet memories of whispers and embraces here and there, in faraway places and borrowed rooms, from a hotel named Tugu to a red tent on the white sands of El Nido, more real than the gushing words of dead poets.

I will remember the dancing silhouettes of two bodies locked in a trance, in the dead of night or in quiet afternoons as Frida Kahlo watches by.

I will remember the anchor that holds forever, rustic and stained but firm and strong, in the deep blue sea against the fierce current and smashing waves.

I will remember each step from the heart of an enigmatic young boy to the tea hills of Java, a village wiped out by a typhoon and lastly, to a paradise called Cloud 9.

I will remember with my last breath, the love more than the pain. Because Sunday Bloody Sunday is more than a song. Because it's only one in a million. Because we kept on trying.

And mostly because we dreamt that someday, small voices from the backseat will ask, "Are we there yet?"

The Night I Woke Up in a Morgue

I remember vividly. It was all gray and cold. When I opened my eyes, there were bodies to my right and my left. They were everywhere -- or at least they seemed like bodies to me covered with cloth, laying on gray steel tables like dead meat, that exact moment I woke up.

You know that scene in movies when the victim is drugged and wakes up without the slightest clue where she is?

I knew right there and then I woke up in the morgue. Yes, the morgue. Filled with decomposing bodies. Only there was no fetid smell of death. Or the stench of decaying human organs.

I tried to feel my skin for signs of life but I could not move. My head was spinning a thousand times over and I my vision was blurred but I blinked and blinked so I could focus, like when you look through a camera and try to focus. But wait...my mind is lucid -- where in the world was I?

Is this hell or purgatory? No, this is the morgue, I am sure of it. But I don't remember seeing the light, as the journey to death is told and re-told by those who choose to come back. I don't even remember having a conversation with God. Did he reject me? Or Was it Satan who did?

I woke up in a morgue that night and it didn't go away. I saw an orderly come out of nowhere. I screamed and called him but no words came out. He just stared at me. And then I fell asleep again.

I think of this night many moons ago as I think of my own mortality right now. Tomorrow, the Mayan calendar says the world will end. But it has been ending everyday, again and again. Until it starts again.

Behind the Yellow Line

There's no lack of stories behind the yellow line, while sleep-deprived passengers endure the slow service of a budget airline and wait for their turn to check in.

A young woman has had four miscarriages in Japan, no thanks to stress.

What does she do for a living? Oh, she kust keeps the house in order, 24/7 while Japanese hubby brings home the money.

She is home in the Philippines to seek help from a hilot in her hometown. Can't leave fate to chance anymore after losing four. Japanese doctors aren't reliable, she says.

Another passenger just arrived from Syria. Her employer has lost her house to a bomb explosion. They were lucky to be out of the house at the time.

She left soon after and took refuge at the Philippine embassy, along with hundreds of fellow domestic helpers.

The "good" President Noynoy has given them free tickets home.

There is a man bound to Gen San. He wants another child but his wife does not.

An OFW is covered with a heavy make-up shade of pink, to cover the sorrows of her heart perhaps.

Her mother just passed away and members of her family here in Manila kept the news of her death from her.

"But that's life, there has gotta to be some drama," she says, her voice concealing the pain.

Our Night with Sting

Photos by me and Jes Aznar

Workshop: Photography and Human Rights by Jes Aznar

On December 11, Jes Aznar will tackle the critical role of photography in upholding human rights in a workshop at the Polytechnic University of the Philippines.

Illuminating the Shadow

Do you often see negative qualities in other people? More often than not, these qualities are actually in us but we just don't or we just choose to ignore it.

We also have positive shadows, that kernel of lively energy we have in us potentially but do not see.

In psychology, the shadow represents our hidden qualities. According to Swiss psychologist and psychiatrist Carl Jung, the shadow contains all the parts of ourselves that we have tried to hide or deny.

These are qualities hidden from ourselves and from others; everything about ourselves that we do not know our refuse to know.

“It is the sum total of the positive and negative traits, feelings, beliefs and potentials, we refuse to identify as our own,” says the Carl Jung Center of the Philippines.

What causes these qualities to hide?

All shadow issues are a form of denial. We choose to avoid what is unpleasant.

However, to become a truly mature person, one has to embrace one’s shadow.

People who do not accept criticism get stuck but Jung says that if you want to move forward, you have to listen and accept the shadows.

Having the courage to uncover the shadow is to come to terms with one’s self.

Individuals who face their shadows achieve a more genuine self-acceptance, defuse negative emotions, feel more free of shame and guilt, recognize the projections that color their opinions of others, heal their relationships and use the creative imagination to own their rejected selves.

In Zen practice, eating the shadow is the practice of reclaiming these hidden qualities, realizing they are part of us.

“Zen practice is the practice of doing this – eating the shadow, sitting and knowing that we ourselves contain the entire world,” according to Brenda Shoshanna, author of Zen Miracles.

Thus, be one with your shadow. Embrace one's self. And just let go. 

Remembering a Massacre

Below is my latest blog for The New Internationalist:

WE remember them, all 58 people who died three years ago today, on a barren windblown hill, under a glistening yellow sun, in a place they called home.

They were massacred and some of the women were raped in what would be the worst election related violence that shocked a country like the Philippines which is so used to political tensions.

It happened on November 23, 2009 in Maguindanao, a province in the southern Philippines that is so rich in agricultural resources yet teeming with poverty.  

Members of ruling clan in the province, the Ampatuan family massacred the supporters of rival political leader Esmael Mangudadatu, the vice mayor of a small town in the province.

All 58 victims including Mangudadatu’s wife and more than thirty journalists were in a convoy on their way to the municipal hall to file Mangudadatu’s candidacy as governor of the province the following year.  But they were stopped by dozens of armed men and forced to a hilltop – a pre-dug mass grave -- where breathed their last.

The massacre was clearly to stop the group from filing Mangudadatu’s candidacy – a move that could end the Ampatuan clan’s decades-long rule in the province.

Citing a study by the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism, the New York Times said in a 2009 article by Carlos Conde, that the Ampatuans’ control of Maguindanao is almost absolute.

“Most of the province’s 36 towns are run by mayors and deputy mayors who are either sons, grandsons, cousins, nephews, in-laws or close allies of the senior Mr. Ampatuan,” the article said.

Three years after the gruesome killing, the families of the victims continue to cry out for justice.

Philippine president Benigno Aquino III, whose father died in the name of democracy, promised to speed up the quest for justice.

But two years into his presidency, the perpetrators have yet to be brought to justice. Only two of the eight Ampatuan clan members in jail have been arraigned, according to a statement signed by the Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility.

Some witnesses have already died or are missing while some relatives of the victims are on the run, fearing for their safety.

Today, journalists, press freedom advocates and families of the slain victims of the Ampatuan massacre marched to the presidential palace with 153 mock coffins to demand swift justice.

“Each mock coffin bears the name of the every victim of journalist killings, including 32 of the 58 people killed in the Ampatuan massacre,” said the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines and the Freedom Fund for Filipino Journalists, organizers of the march.

In the Philippines, 153 journalists have been killed since 1986 when democracy was restored. 

Three years ago today, 58 people were massacred on a barren windblown hill, under a glistening yellow sun, in a place they called home. Today, the quest for justice continues. We remember and we remember still. 

Three Years Ago Today

UNITY STATEMENT ON THE THIRD YEAR SINCE THE AMPATUAN MASSACRE AND THE SECOND INTERNATIONAL DAY TO END IMPUNITY:

Aquino gov't policies, politics, inaction
delay justice for Maguindanao martyrs

THE FAMILIES of the 58 victims of the Nov. 23, 2009 Ampatuan Massacre are starting to lose hope in the justice system, and the government has only itself to blame.

As we commemorate the third anniversary of the Ampatuan Massacre, where 32 journalists and media workers were among the murdered, only two of the eight Ampatuan clan members in jail have been arraigned. Some witnesses have died. Some relatives of the victims have fled their hometowns following receipt of death threats.

In August 2010, President Benigno S. Aquino III promised five crucial reforms to help speed up the quest for justice. Among these were improvements to the Witness Protection Program, the formation of quick-response teams to investigate media killings, measures to speed up the pace of the trial, and a review of the Rules of Court to mitigate possible abuse and manipulation.

The problems raised are hardly imaginary. As a Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility (CMFR) study shows, some 100 warlords continue to rule areas in the country that have chalked up the most number of media killings.

Even as fear of reprisals continue to haunt witnesses and plaintiffs in the case, the government of Mr. Aquino and other major political parties in the country have embraced the Ampatuan clan.

At least 72 Ampatuan clan members are candidates in the May 2013 elections, nine of them running under the Liberal Party, and 34 others under the United Nationalist Alliance of Vice President Jejomar Binay.

The big number of candidates from the clan bares an intact financial and power infrastructure. In fact, the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ) shows that Andal Ampatuan Jr. has managed to sell eight prime properties, an outrage when the government has pledged to forfeit wealth that multiplied many times as the clan consolidated its powers with help from successive administrations that wooed the clan’s formidable voting machine.

Nov. 23 is also the International Day to end Impunity. A Southeast Asian Press Alliance report shows the Philippines, supposedly the region’s most vibrant democracy, remains the most dangerous place for journalists.

A total of 153 journalists have been killed since 1986. Of these, at least 14 had been murdered during the administration of Mr. Aquino. Of the total cases, only 10 cases have won partial convictions. No mastermind has ever been brought to trial.

A survey of all cases of media killings will show that half of the suspects are state actors – policemen, soldiers, and elected officials. The Aquino administration’s embrace of a clan long known for warlordism only highlights how state policy can fuel impunity.

Aside from the killings, Mr. Aquino has consistently exhibited a penchant for proposals to curtail press freedom and freedom of expression.

Despite his avowed pledge to implement “tuwid na daan,” he has reneged on a promise to prioritize the passage of the Freedom of Information bill – an initiative that could help his government fulfil its promise to rid the country of corruption.

What he has supported instead is the patently unconstitutional Cybercrime Prevention Act, a law which grants the state draconian powers to crack down on dissent and critical expression on digital space.

Lately, the President has even mentioned in glowing terms the Right to Reply initiative, which would force the press to hand over its space to the whims of politicians and other powerful individuals and groups seeking to manage the flow of information.

Taken together, the acts of commission and omission by the Aquino administration betray sheer lip service to justice and press freedom, and a dangerous tendency to sacrifice both to the exigencies of power.

Signed:

Center for Community Journalism and Development
Center for Media Freedom and Responsibility
Freedom Fund for Filipino Journalists
National Union of Journalists of the Philippines
Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism
Philippine Press Institute
University of the Philippines-College of Mass Communication

The Art of Mastering Pain

On the second day of my two-week isolation, I am in a place where there is nothing to do but think. Or perhaps it is the only recourse so I can forget the pain.

Recent griefs come to mind and there is no lack of painful stories. From friends. From family. From loved ones.

And the only question that's left to be asked is why? Why, in a world where each and every individual struggle to find love, does pain exist? Why does a woman leave her man and two children? Why does a man die with not a friend or loved one beside him? Why would a mother leave her offspring, her very own flesh and flood? Why did she abandon her four children when so many other women whose lifelong dream is to become mothers, don't get the chance to have even just one child? Why is there genocide? And war? And rape? How about child abuse?

Why does a brother leave home and why does his mother allow it? Why does a mother tie her child up to die in a fire?

Why does the body learn to accommodate pain instead of fighting it? Why does the brain get used to seeing 300 blisters all over the body? Why does the human spirit make room for grief instead of yearning for happiness? Why does it settle for the hardships? Why, in a world where love is the better option, do we choose anger, misery and pain?

Tiong Ed

When someone dies, we remember all of his or her good traits. There is hardly space to think about the bad qualities. Tributes overflow with the only the best words we can to describe the deceased. Most often, the loved ones wish to remember only the good things.

But this is not the case with tiong Ed.  If you come to think of it, there really isn't anything negative to say about Tiong Ed. He was simply an altruistic person. It's not that we chose to highlight only his good traits. I personally couldn't remember him having negative qualities. He was just one of those rare individuals who had the kindest of hearts. In a world of artists, photographers and journalists, a world where individuals have the biggest of egos, where backstabbing was a daily fare, where genuine admiration, mentoring and respect often took the backseat over self-preservation and where men have a tendency to be bigger than themselves, Tiong Ed stood out as a kind soul who had only the best intentions for people. Not once did I hear him backstab a person. On the  contrary, he supported and mentored each and every individual who came his way. He listened and listened well. No biases, no judgement. He didn't care for recognition, he only did his best. He helped friends even if he personally could not. He always found a way to help those in need. He was there on all occasions that were important to those he considered a friend -- birthdays, baptism, the death of a loved one. And he was there every night. He was always there even if he had to walk a mile or to borrow money to get there. Yes, he was always there to ease the burden.

He died on an ordinary Tuesday morning, in a government hospital with nothing in his pocket but ninety pesos he borrowed from his landlord; no friend or loved one to hold his hand. But the life he lived was rich and extraordinary enough, an endless sea of friends and loved ones came to his wake and laid him to rest. It was a life well-lived by an individual who stood out in a world so insane that those who deserve to live longer die ahead of so many others who dont.

Paalam, Tiong Ed. Maraming salamat sa lahat ng ala-ala.

Photo by Jes Aznar. August 14, 2009.