Agence Provocateurs

The Lucban Municipal Police Station, by posting a message on social media asking girls not to wear short shorts, fanned the flames of an already simmering frustration over a predominantly misogynistic sentiment regarding rape and subsequent victim-blaming and shaming. Their Chief, perhaps unwittingly, stoked the controversy by trying to justify their deed, which singed their credibility even more.

In Metro Manila, Ben Tulfo’s allegedly minuscule but proud member stood up and spew a conflagration by saying that the manner by which women dress gives men an opportunity to commit rape, In the process, he belittled the opinion (on the Lucban Police controversy) of Frankie Pangilinan, outspoken daughter of Senator Kiko Pangilinan and Megastar Sharon Cuneta, by calling her hija, a pejorative term in this instance, thereby sparking an online tumult on social media.

In the safety of her lair, Senator Pia Cayetano, a self-proclaimed women’s advocate, was quiet. Not even a gasp came as a statement from her office. Meanwhile, the rest of the country was in the firestorm. In the melee, Claro Ganac, a part-time professor at De la Salle University got fired for insinuating that Senator Risa Hontiveros, the feisty and staunch feminist, should be raped by Bilibid inmates.

The nub of the controversy is the mistaken notion that people get raped because of the clothes they wear. This is what the Lucban Police openly emphasized. This is what Ben Tulfo accentuates. This insolence is the weapon of choice of misogynists who, in their impertinence, invariably shame the victims of rape.

Hontiveros asserts: "There is no dress code for rape. Or for sexual harassment. Instead of teaching women how to dress, we should teach men not to rape".

Note that women do not have exclusive sway as rape victims. Men also get raped, the latest in the news is a newbie OFW in the Middle East. In the current scheme of things, as propounded by Lucban Police, Ben Tulfo, and their ilk, one wonders what he must have worn. The apogee here is the extremely revolting fact that even infants get raped.

It should be emphasized that our Revised Penal Code does not recognize the clothing of the victim as an element of rape. In an exhibit aptly called “Don’t Tell Me How to Dress” organized by CNN Philippines, clothes worn by 11 Filipina survivors of sexual harassment or abuse were featured. None of the 11 clothes that we displayed could be described as provocative.

Suddenly, there is a spate of bestiality occurring with alarming frequency, including a man who had sex with two cows. In an online discussion, people were asking Ben Tulfo and the Lucban Police: “What were the cows wearing?”

We seriously need to change our perception of rape and help educate people, raise awareness of the dangers of misogyny and the reality of men as rape victims. We should, as individuals and members of groups, not only fight for justice but proactively promote sensitivity to the plight of victims of sexual harassment or abuse.

No lip service allowed.

 

I stan Vico Sotto

"May binabalak kayo, itigil nyo na yan."

(You have plans, stop it.)

#ctto: tribune.net.ph

Vico Sotto, in no uncertain terms, told his fellow workers in government and

those who support him that he will not put up with surprise parties.

No ifs, no buts.

In stark contrast, the infamy of Debold Sinas 

was his failure to say no to the mañanita.

In fact, the infamy of Debold Sinas was his failure to avoid

calling attention to himself and basking in the flattery of his sycophants, 

hence the listing of his well-planned and executed Extraordinary Birthday Celebration

as a grand event in the list of achievements under his leadership.

Leaders lead by example. Leaders obey the laws.

I stan Vico Sotto.

Happy Birthday Mayor.

Seven years old today...

shukran * xie xie * hvala * tak * dank u * kiitos * merci * danke * efharisto

mahalo * terima kasih * grazie * arigato * kamsahamnida * takk

obrigado * spasiba * gracias * salamat * kop khun

No bells, no chokers...

You think I need to be married to be whatever you think should complete me?

I am okay. I have a dog. He is an awesome companion.

Argos and I, we never argue.

You, you are married. Why fool around if you are happily married?

Oh, you and your spouse fight every single day.

You are not happy and you want out.

If my dog wants out, I just open his cage. We play.

If I want to be alone he lets me be.

My dog and I, we are happy.

You, you need a dog.

Grief at a time of COVID-19

Struggling with how to begin this article, I only had the title staring back at me, cursor blinking, egging me on. But my mind was shooting blanks, so I had to resort to an old technique, putting in random, disconnected thoughts and ideas that I would then sew together.

 

Frustrated, I gave it a rest, went to Facebook and boom – saw my niece Tweepy’s post that her Lola Mommy, my Auntie/Ninang Lily (Lillian Aguila Besana Inosanto) passed away today, 13 June 2020 at 2:10 pm, in our hometown, LA (Libacao, Aklan). She was 98.

Maninay Lily was the Guidance Counselor of Libacao Elementary School, and much to her chagrin, this imp was a regular in her office.

 

The worst timing for it to happen, during this lockdown caused by the Chinese (Wuhan) Coronavirus. The lockdown already caused grief beyond the common experience. I have had relatives and friends who have died without me being able to physically pay my last respects.

 

“Dying is like the ocean, sometimes the tide comes in gently with soft, delicate waves quietly working in the background. Other days, the waves violently crash into explosions, demanding to be noticed but regardless of how it chooses to do its job, the tide will always come in.” – Sarah Riad, The Sharp Knife of a Short Life

 

My late mother, Dolores Bolivar Inosanto Jereza, always made it a point to condole with the bereaved and would make time to do so. It is a duty she etched, no, seared, in my character. And I have always tried to oblige.

 

But these are trying times made even more so by the lockdown to control the spread of the pandemic. Travel is restricted, and so, the death of people we love (and there is quite a long list during this pandemic) leave us compelled to deal with our grief literally from a distance.

 

Complete family, save of course for Maninoy Pater who has since passed on. From left: Ninky, Nono, Lynette, Toto, Flogs, Bibim, Bebop, Suzette and Lipa. #CTTO: Manong Toto's Facebook.

There is an altogether different level of frustration and disappointment in this particular instance because Maninay Lily’s children: Anang Lipa, Nang Sue, Nang Bebop, Mare Bibim, Nang Flogs, Manong Toto, Nang Lynette, Nono, and Ninky, and their respective families, have been with us in the best and worst times. The fact that I cannot be with you to somehow, in some way, assuage your pain, is frustrating and heartrending beyond words.

 

I visited her in January when I came home for the Ati-atihan. She was, as usual, very sweet (and funny).

Maninay, may you rest in the arms of the Lord who formed you from the dust of the earth, May Holy Mary, the angels and all the saints welcome you now that you have gone forth from this life. May Christ who was crucified for you, bring you freedom and peace. May Christ who died for you admit you into his garden of paradise. Amen.

Houston, the problem has been resolved...

Could not log in to this blog for a long time because of an email address associated with this that I no longer had access to. It took a while to regain control... the anguish of a frustrating wait. But now that I have sway over this once again, yes, I really am taking control and will readily, eagerly scratch that itch to write. My fingers are ready to dance on the keyboard.

A Doggone World

I have just been labeled a non-conformist. No, I did not take offense. No umbrage at all, in fact, I just laughed.

The person who called me that must have been at a loss for words, literally. That did not surprise me at all. He has, in the past, described me as: “mabulaklak magsalita, ayaw gumamit nang ordinaryong kataga para mas maintindihan” (flowery speaker who will not use simple words to be better understood).

The words I use convey my thoughts with as much precision as I can muster. I will not call you dense when you are a dimwit. I will not admit to being lonely when I am just bored. I know the difference between hard and difficult. Why should I abuse the word beautiful to refer to a woman, a flower, or a sunset when I have an idiolect for an arsenal?

Oh but I digress.

Now, why was I called a non-conformist? I was quiet amidst the brouhaha over a dog meat festival. To me, the controversy had to do with one plain and simple fact: dogs are the most popular pets worldwide, bar none, unless of course you happen to be Chavit Singson who can afford to literally house more exotic animals.

I love dogs, too, but I do not have a problem with people who eat dog meat. It is a cultural thing; hence I do not find it repugnant.

Unfortunately, the controversy was heightened by gruesome, perturbing pictures that agitated a lot of people once they were posted online. Dogs in cages that are not really different from our overcrowded city jails, just like other animals in industrial farms, living in cramped spaces, suffering until they reach maturity, and then killed with swift, merciless precision.

Come to think of it, what are 10,000 dogs butchered for a dog meat festival in one hemisphere compared to 1.2 million dogs euthanised on an annual basis in another hemisphere?

In retrospect, it probably was not the dog meat itself, but the manner by which the dogs were killed (the dogs are hit on the head and torched) that became controversial.

Those who raised a howl must not have heard of the Pinikpikan.

Roy G Biv Wins

The Supreme Court of the United States has affirmed the legality of same sex marriage.

The LGBT communities around the world rejoiced and celebrated the groundbreaking, if not earth-shattering decision by the world’s most powerful country … while a Pastor who promised to set himself on fire as the day came to pass promptly said his statement was not supposed to be taken literally or was misquoted — or was just lame.

As the rainbow appeared everywhere, especially in social media, the ultra-conservatives mourned, going through a breast-beating catharsis.

Will same sex marriage ever be allowed in the Philippines? If it does, it will be a long time coming.

But there is always hope.

What am I happy about? Moving forward, it will not just be tolerance or lip service. Rights have been upheld for the LGBTs in the United States.

And then it occurred to me: I have a visa but don’t have a boyfie. Bummer.

Bwahahahahahahaha!

Traumatic Hair Cut

My sister and I were in a beauty salon today for some pampering. I was already there, mid-way into my hair coloring treatment, when she called and told me she also wanted to have some hair treatments done.

As I sat there after the application of color, having my nails done while waiting to have my hair washed off, in comes a couple with their almost-one-year-old son for his first haircut.

Apparently, the parents did not prepare their son for the session with the hair stylist. They just wanted a quick haircut. The hair stylist, for his part, just wanted a fast buck.

The moment the child was forced to sit, his anguished cries drowned out the television’s prattling. No tissue paper on his neck, no drape either. He was furiously swiping away at them. He also wanted to swat at his parents and the hairstylist.

As the parents held the hands and head of their son, the hair stylist went about his task. First there was a lock of hair that was kept for posterity.

The child was fearful, tense, crying his heart out … his eyes were darting from his parents (remonstrative) to the stranger doing his hair (fearful and pleading) … he was both absolutely helpless and livid!

A traumatized child … his parents did not take time to brief him, and the hairstylist did not even attempt to befriend the child before he began.

I so wanted to sock the father and the hairstylist, or at least bang their heads together, and slap the mother, for good measure.

Of Swallows, Bells, and Fond Memories

Nanay in Lombard St., San Francisco

Tomorrow, the 28^th of December 2013 will be Nanay’s 11^th Death Anniversary.

I still mourn her passing and miss her so, though I am no longer that sad, especially because this year, I was finally able to make one of her most ardent wishes come true.

I went on a pilgrimage for her, one that served me well as a catharsis.

This is my first ever pilgrimage story.

“When the swallows come back to Capistrano” by Leon René is one of Nanay’s all-time favorite songs. She never revealed to anyone why this is so, though I have an idea, or at least a suspicion.

This song has been recorded by several famous singers, including: Pat Boone, Xavier Cugat, The Ink Spots, and Glenn Miller among a host of other artists. Note that if you check the lyrics online, they all repeat the second stanza. 

Nanay’s favorite cover of this song is by The Lennon Sisters who may have added a unique third stanza:

When the swallows come back to Capistrano

When the swallows come back to Capistrano

That's the day you promised to come back to me

When you whispered, "Farewell," in Capistrano

That’s the day the swallows flew back to the sea

All the mission bells will ring

The chapel choir will sing

The happiness you bring

Will live in my memory

When the swallows come back to Capistrano

That's the day I pray that you'll come back to me

While the altar candles burn

My heart is burning, too

If you should not return

I will still be waiting for you

And the swallows come back to Capistrano

That's the day I pray that you'll come back to me

Note: There is a link to this song at the end of this article.

Nanay sang this often, and every now and again, would request our friend Jun, a broadcast colleague in IBC-DYRG to play it for her on his defunct popular afternoon broadcasts.

She was able to visit my sister in California and went to several places there, including parts of Orange County where Mission San Juan de Capistrano is located. Although she wanted to and could have, she did not visit Mission San Juan de Capistrano at that time, because she has promised me we would visit the place together. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, she passed away and we never got to do it.

When I attended the wedding of my niece Liezel in San Francisco, I just had to go. I did not even have to ask twice.

With my host and guide, Grace Magdaluyo

I left San Francisco in the early morning, return tickets and pocket money courtesy of my sister Louella and Manong Louis, on 12 June 2013. I was met by my friend Grace Magdaluyo and her husband. We went straight from the San Diego airport to Mission San Juan de Capistrano. In our collective excitement, we passed by the ruins without noticing it, and, with a fluke from our online Google map, ended up in the new Mission Basilica San Juan.

We did not realize we were in the wrong place until I noticed the predominantly Hispanic colonial-style modern structures that surrounded us. I walked straight into a cul-de-sac which led to the Mission Basilica School and asked for directions from a man who likewise seemed lost, and only spoke Spanish, the mile-a-minute variety that got me discombobulated and invariably lost in translation. To my chagrin, I realized I was no match to a Mexican who spoke andale andale with such a frenzy. So I went back and pulled Grace along, literally, dragging her inside the school administration building. The ladies there were not at all surprised that we lost our way and readily gave us instruction, with hands flying to indicate directions, in English.

It was a very short drive back, powered by peals of giggles. We entered the gates and found ourselves in a very quiet, introspective and awe-inspiring place.

Established in 1775 and re-founded a year later, Mission San Juan de Capistrano is a living piece of history and culture with religious significance. Unfortunately, this great stone church collapsed when an earthquake struck in December 1812. Today, it is run by a non-profit organization that preserves these ruins of a bygone era. Without a doubt, it has become famous for “The miracle of the Swallows” which takes place March 19^th, St. Joseph's Day.

While we were merrily walking around and taking loads of pictures, I chanced upon one of the lady volunteers, who was pruning a hedge of flowers. Spur of the moment, I asked her what her favorite version/cover of the song “When the swallows come back to Capistrano” and she flashed me a winsome smile, eagerly whipped her mobile phone out of her pocket, and showed me her collection.

I told her about Nanay, and why I just had to visit The Mission. As I was talking, I did not notice that I was already in tears. She asked if she could give me a hug, and we did. I was bawling and she held on to me for as long as I did.

As the flood of tears stopped, she asked to be excused, and much to my surprise, she gave a stern warning asking me to stay put.

With Josh, whom we met again on his way back from lunch.

She came back with Josh, the Director of the place, who, having heard my story from the lady volunteer, expressed appreciation for our visit and then walked with us to The Mission Store and gave me a candle, for free. Next thing I knew, I was in the Chapel.

I do not know what perception Grace had of me at that point, but she left unobtrusively to give me my private moment. For a couple of minutes, I just stood there … basking in my very private moment well spent in solitude, thanksgiving and closure.

Inside the "Serra's Chapel" at The Mission. Candle to the lower left was the one I lit, courtesy of Josh.

It was a time of reckoning, as a new realization came to me: I was named Josephus because of this awesome place. Yes, that is my first name, Latin for Joseph. And it was not the late Fr. Rago who added this, as if on a whim, on my baptismal certificate. It was Nanay who really wanted it, hence my nickname, Jojo.

I did not notice the swallows that day of my visit, neither did I hear the bells. But it was one of my happiest moments (to think I could have been named Juan, or even worse, Swallow … kidding!).

It was a peak experience flying with the swallows … and hearing bells … in my heart.


NB: You can listen to The Lennon Sisters' cover of "When the swallows come back to Capistrano" by clicking on this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYxrydmTXRI

.

A most unexpected phone call ...

I just got a call from a friend whom I haven’t seen in ages. I first met him in 1978 during the National Secondary Schools Press Conference in Tabaco, Albay. We’ve correspondent by snail mail for several years. Then I moved to Manila where I went NPA—no permanent address—having moved from one place to another. We’ve gone through stages—pagers and cellphones—but before SMS came along, we eventually lost touch. He found me last year, through an old blog that I no longer have access to, and eventually, on Facebook. He’s been living in Europe for over two decades now.

Through all those years, we’ve grown to know each other’s quirks and whenever we talked, we invariably finished each other’s sentences and gave voice to each other’s innermost thoughts and feelings.

Let me go back 35 years and 6,211 miles.

We are both Martial Law Babies, the product of a generation of high school writers who, while trained in the Development Communications approach, wore no blinders. Our letters went beyond the usual diary-style correspondence. We talked about anything and everything.

I eventually fell in love with him, and while he could not reciprocate, he accepted and appreciated that love. And in his special way, showed me he cared.

He was heterosexual, and that was it. We’ve remained good friends.

Today, he told me that he is divorcing his wife, and that he has a lover, another married man.

I was absolutely stunned! Where the hell did that come from?

He was pouring his heart out … so I zipped my mouth and listened … an utterly difficult feat for me.

What was I to say? What did I have to say when in my mind, I wanted to blurt out: “It should have been me, you jerk!” But I love my friend, and when he asked for my advice, I was torn.

This is insane. I am no psychologist. My friends know that I invariably give bad advice. I was wary. I may have had a bad script at hand, following in the wake of “My Husband’s Lover” which I never really watched.

I was now crying with him. For someone who is quick at repartee, I really did not know what to say. I was too stunned. I was thinking, wherever fate takes us … there must be a reason.   

And then it came to me, a phrase from one of my literature classes (though I could not, for the life of me, remember whoever it was who said it): “If chaos be the price of love, let there be chaos.”

I told him to follow his heart and wished him luck!

!!! Happy New Year !!!

May 2013 usher in the realization of your fondest hopes and most ardent aspirations. 

Sayaw ng mga SENIORita: when gays become thunderkats!

What is it about the Filipino audience that can fill huge venues featuring foreign acts and only have around a hundred people watching “Sayaw ng mga SENIORita,” a high-caliber Filipino play?

 

My jaw literally dropped when I saw the small clique of people inside the 1,074-seat AFP Theatre a quarter of an hour prior to the published performance time. I thought to myself: where is the Filipino theatre audience?

To think that there are people who fly in from the provinces or who forego major meals just to buy tickets for concerts.

When Lupang Hinirang was played, I was in tears!

Penned by Jose Javier Reyes, Sayaw ng mga SENIORita is his long awaited comeback after a 23-year hiatus from theatre after he wrote the musical Katy in 1989.

 

Sayaw ng mga SENIORita, directed by Jun F. Flavier Pablo, is a poignant, brutally honest play about aging gays that goes beyond RA 9994. Portraying gays as people and not just sexual predators, Jose Javier Reyes veers away from the stereotype and in the end, (at least for me) delivers a stern warning. With an in your face ruthlessness to it, the language is quite vulgar, and when you identify with any of the characters, some of their lines are bound to hit you and hurt like crazy.

The major roles were essayed by no ordinary mortals but by thespians and directors. Director Soxy Topacio as Rading De Guzman, antique dealer and birthday celebrator who was feted with a surprise party marking his 60^th natal day; Director Joel Lamangan as Terry Mangubat, a very stringy businessman; Director Manny Castañeda as Dr. Gerry Almario, aesthetic and cosmetic surgeon to the stars; Arnell Ignacio as Romeo Cajanding, bikini-open impresario and male-starlet manager. Rading, Terry, Gerry and Romeo are friends for life.

Newbie Chase Cervera plays the role of Ollie, a male nurse and lover of Rading. To Cervera’s credit, he simply refused to be swallowed whole by his co-stars and completely owned the stage when he had his character’s dénouement.

I was eagerly looking forward to seeing BB Gandanghari as Raquel Villasor, the homecoming queen but unfortunately, it was Justine Ferrer of Survivor Philippines Season 2 fame who played the role. Honestly, I felt cheated.

Also in the cast are Doreen Bernal as the maid/pageant host; China Cojuanco as the wife of Dr. Almario; and the eye candies Royce Chua as Lance; Christian Paul Meteoro as Troy; Paul Jake Paule as Kuya Ed/Pulis; and playing the character of Ericson is the dashing Johnron Tañada who was my boyfriend until he read about it here.

The only thing I did not like about this play was that it began almost half an hour late.

Sayaw ng mga SENIORita was created when Gantimpala Theatre Foundation was invited by the Cultural Center of the Philippines’ for its Fourth National Theatre Festival.

Inspired by Tony S. Espejo who gave life to prize-winning plays of the CCP Playwriting Contests since July of 1978, Gantimpala Theatre Foundation is now on its 35^th year and "continues its glorious tradition of bringing theatre that excites the intellect, stirs the heart, and electrifies the soul” by embarking on projects “that are of national and global interests.”

Gantimpala Theatre Foundation will “continue to create and mount artistic undertakings that further advance its stature as leader of the Filipino theatre movement”. The group has had its metamorphoses after the EDSA Revolution.

The play dates for Sayaw ng mga SENIORita at the AFP Theatre in Camp Aguinaldo are: November 24, Saturday, at 3pm and 7pm; December 1, Saturday at 3pm and 7pm and December 8, Saturday, 3pm and 7pm.

PS. During the intermission, you have to try the basil and mozzarella rolled pizza at the Snack Bar.

Two Voices: One Shrill; The Other, Silenced

She wanted so much to be a VJ and auditioned for MYX for three consecutive years. During her 3^rd audition in the summer of 2012, she was asked “what has changed since you auditioned last year?” Her reply was: “Mahaba ang buhok ko” (my hair is longer).

Such profundity was consistently manifested in the interview during which she feigned familiarity with the channel but failed miserably when she appeared to not have known and have been caught by surprise that OPM mix became PinoyMix way back in 2007. To think that she purportedly watches regularly and even named her favorite shows.

When asked to deliver a sample spiel, her lines included “This is me behind this camera and off this camera” and “I am fans with them” (referring to the group Callalily).

You could read it in her eyes and body language, the longing, the intense desire to become famous.  She tried to appear knowledgeable, eloquent and intelligent but failed miserably on all three counts.

Yesterday, she finally had her axiomatic 15 minutes of fame … and instantly gained notoriety by alarm and scandal.

That was quite a scene that she created in an LRT station with thousands of people coming and going. She was giving a lady security guard a severe tongue-lashing allegedly because she resented the manner by which her attention was called for failing to have her bag go through a security check.

Unknown to her, the scene she created (showcasing what she thought was her superior English language skills complete with ‘accent with an attitude’), and the condescending treatment she was giving the lady guard, attracted the attention of another passenger who took a video of the confrontation.

The video inevitably went viral on social media, with shares and retweets fueled by negative reactions to Amalayer’s apparent lack of self-respect.

It is possible that she may have had a legitimate grievance. If so, she could have gone to LRT management to complain. Indeed, there are security officers who are so full of themselves, rubbing their bloated egos off people they purportedly serve if only to emphasize that they are persons, or at least agents, of persons in authority.

In the video footage that I saw, it was apparent that she was bent on raising hell and calling attention to herself. She appeared to look around as if asking for sympathy from people who were either surprised, curious or shocked but had no wish to get involved in the fracas.

What was most telling was when she said she studied, ergo educated, as if security guards themselves do not have an education.

The condescending attitude towards security guards is not uncommon. The fact that they have a voice in Congress through a party list representative did nothing to address their plight, primarily that of being overworked and underpaid.

Their job is to ensure the safety of people and property. But most of the time, they do not even have job security. More often than not, they get automatic deductions for government-imposed contributions such as Social Security, PhilHealth and Pag-IBIG but their contributions are not remitted by their agency.

It is such a crying shame that security guards will not be able to send a legitimate voice in Congress, with Ang Galing Pinoy having been disqualified by the Comelec because it failed to meet the requirements for representing marginalized sectors in the House of Representatives.

Two perspectives, one sorry situation.

Death Knell for the FOI Bill

14 November 2012

Dear Mr. President:

I am very disappointed with what appears to be the death of the FOI Bill in Congress. I am very disappointed that after you said you were supporting this bill during the height of the Corona Impeachment, nothing has been heard from you since then on this subject.

I am very disappointed that you sat this one out. You might say you do not wish to interfere with Congress because it is a co-equal branch of government. But then again I know that when it was convenient for you, there is no way for you to deny that you did, too!

I sat still and kept my peace during those other times when I was of the impression that your Excellency failed, in the bar of public opinion, on certain issues. This one I shall sit out, too, Your Excellency. But I have to let you know that I am very disappointed. Very disappointed, indeed.

Respectfully yours,

Glenn Inosanto Jereza