Native Bags

The recent "One Visayas Island Fair" held recently in Cebu City yielded surprising finds of bags made from native materials, in this case a particular kind of grass.

Mind you, it takes weeks to finish one bag and all are hand made. A labor of love indeed.

JOie de vivre

I was just about to write here how depressed I have been the past few months. Secretive as I am, my friends and co-workers does not realize it though. I try to keep up a happy front, but as janed chua posts in her blog, just because I smile it does not mean my heart does too. I really cried when I read that post because it really hit home. I feel such sadness that has been my constant companion these days. Yet, just as I opened this blog, I came upon a comment of a reader that has somehow inspired me. Unexpectedly, I got a lift from a total stranger.

So, perhaps this post may take on a different tone. My "companion" has for the moment "absented" herself and I somehow feel a little lighter. But I know she will soon back when I'm alone again or just before I sleep and even in the early mornings. I struggle and miraculously I'm able to function though not with such joy that I once was filled with before this envelope of sadness descended upon me. Joie de vivre, a French word, that if memory serves me right meant love of life. I have lost it.

Two pink lines

Yes, two pink lines showed in the pregnancy test kit I took last Friday. It confirmed what I had been suspecting for thepast few weeks, that my little girl will soon be an Ate.

I must admit that this pregnancy was not planned but still, it is very much welcome. Five years is more than the ideal time to wait for another addition to our small family.

I'm filled with both excitement and a little anxiety. After all, the hubby is currently in a career shift and the budget will have to be "re-adjusted". Yet, I know, we will cope and the blessing and joy of having another baby will more than make up for it.

Right now, B_ _ is having fits of jealousies and bouts of insecurities. Every night she would cuddle up to me and ask plaintively if I will still love her after the baby comes. Of course, I would say, in fact even more as she will now be a responsible elder sister to her coming sibling. There is much love to go around so B_ _ need not feel left out. In fact, as early as now, seven weeks into my pregnancy, the hubby and I have been involving her in our plans (e.g. where the baby will sleep).

Its been quite long and I have forgotten how it felt like last but I'm sure three expectant souls are eagerly awaiting his/her arrival.

A Fork

I have always believed that while we may have our own grandiose plans for our lives, there is always that “X” factor, wholly uncontrollable, that either puts the proverbial monkey wrench to all the “best laid plans” or sets out a path that was totally not thought of.

What I am saying is, destiny and fate shall always intervene and reminds us that there are things greater than us that determine the course our lives shall take.

I mistakenly thought that winning was a done deal and all that was needed to be worked upon was to set the margin higher to eliminate all possible protests should there be the eventual proclamation. The discontent was palpable and the demand for change was ringing all through out the town. Caucuses showed the hubby had all but the consensus. The greater efforts were towards ensuring that the lead candidate for the top position would be carried by the then apparent wave of popularity my better half enjoyed. The possibility of losing never entered my mind and back up plans of such an eventuality were never made.

But it was not meant to be and my hubby faced his first ever loss in his 12-year political career. The three days after E-day passed like a blur and he had to face scores of supporters and leaders who came one after the other conducting the requisite "post-mortem", the questions of how and where we went wrong. So, like a true leade, after the battle was lost he took on the dificult job of lifting the morale of his defeated troops. Licking his wounds in private had to take a back seat for a while no matter how much he was itching to get away from it all. I watched him take on a very brave front although I knew deep inside he was hurting.

And for that I started hating the world of politics. I saw soon enough how the sacrifices he made did not amount to anything and how service to the people could never be appreciated in a community whose cries for change got lost in a sea of "green", money and money was all that mattered.

I never fit the model of a politician's wife. I was, still am, fiercely protective of my privacy and was uncomfortable letting in strangers of different stripes and colors into the hubby's home and being made to act like each and everyone is my best friend. But I tried my best because notwithstanding my reluctance, I had to be supportive all the way.

Now this loss. Frankly, I do not know how to deal with it and I know the hubby will find it difficult to change careers mid-stream. Yet it is in these difficult times that we also discover the most important things in life, the one constant that remain unaffected by the changing winds fortunes, political or otherwise. in the end, its all that matters.

What It Really Was

As the whole country celebrates the apparent success of the automated 2010 elections, in a small inconspicuos town somewhere in the mountainous portion of the island of Samar, people grieve. For despite all it high tech gadgetry, automation still could not provide a truly honest elections that reflected the people's will, at least in this part of the world where almost 90% live below the poverty line.

A combination of guns, goons and gold conspired to show the loopholes and the leaks where dishonest elections could still come out the norm in a much hailed automated polls. For while no one was looking, 1,500 non-resident and under-age persons managed to have themselves sneaked in as as registered voters of this town with a voting population of 6,500.

Readers of this blog who know my true identity might, to themselves say that these are but gripings of a sour loser but I dare say that while defeat may taste bitter it does not distract from the truth of what really happened on May 10, 2010.

It was the day when masterlist of voters had two versions and jeepney loads of total strangers started filtering in late in the afternoon (so as to afford little time to challenge and contest them) to vote for a slate composed of people they hardly knew and trade in their votes, nay, their souls for a few thousand pesos. They came all the way from Tacloban City and Calbayog City in trucks three days before the elections to provide the captured swing votes for a group of candidates in a town where for all intents and purposes many of the former only knew from a map that such town exists. In a place where everybody knew everybody else, the strangers stuck out like sore thumbs yet by some "magical" stroke of a pen and a computer keyboard, they were now officially "residents" and registered voters of the town.

Considering the massive scale and proportions of this operation "flying vultures", it came as no surprise that preparations and executions of the plan started a full year ahead of the polls. The "magician" knew his tricks well and played them with the deftness of someone who had been in his position for quite sometime betraying the public trust reposed in him to conduct a clean and honest elections.

The stage was set. The machine for registartion and validation started disappearing for days at a time from the office where they were supposed to be and when an election clerk was queried as to the computer's whereabouts, a ready answer was: it was being brought to another place for repairs. A check with a higher electoral office, however, confirmed that no permission was obtained from them which was what the law dictated before such a machine/computer could be moved. It was only after seeing the hordes of non-resident voters that the significance of its (the machine) disappearance came to light. Your guess is as good as mine.

Election employees refused to receive written request for master lists of voters and BEI's (the precinct level set of electoral officers) and candidates from the slate were only given the lists with only a few days left for them to exercise their remedies against the "imported" voters. As if that was not enough, the "magician" came up with two materlists, an incomplete one for the other slate and the other the official list carrying hundreds of names that was missing from the first list given to the candidates. The other side was deprived of notices for ERB hearings (the body that approves registration of voters) and they had to rely on the incomplete voter's list to file exclusions cases in court which proved to be costly for the meagerly-financed other side slate. The highest official of the town himself who was taking another crack at his post was seen personally ferrying voters to the precinct and even grabbed the cellphone of a watcher he suspected of calling someone up to report him.

But most depressing of all were the peole themselves, poor and uneducated folks who sold their votes to the highest bidders. Even familial bonds proved wanting when relatives were faced with the tempting offer of money in amounts that could never be seen in their lifetimes. At times I feel anger at these folks but upon deeper thought I realize they are but victims to machinations of people preying on their biggest vulnerabilities. P3,000.00 could already buy them a supply of rice for the whole year. Shading a few circles on a piece of paper for P5,000.00 was nothing compared to months of toiling in the sun to earn just as much. So it was never a hard choice to make and blood relations be damned.

And so I weep for these poor folks who now must pay for the next three years of a government from hell.

Mind Readers in the Ivory Tower

Prior to reading the now much maligned Supreme Court ruling on the power of the incumbent president to appoint the new Chief Justice when the present one retires on May 17, 2010, I stumbled upon the column of Ms. Patricia Evangelist in the Philippine Daily Inquirer. After going through her piece, I dare say it took one non-lawyer to blow to smithereens what is turning out to be a decision that dwells more on conjectures and mindreading than true interpretation of the law.

For a collegial body that has most of the time, if not always, been articulate, coherent and consistent, we read a ponencia* that not only is inconsistent but drives us around in circles as to what it actually means. It just proves my point that an indefensible position is just that, indefensible.

I truly admire Ms. Evangelista for her to-the-point, no mincing of words dissection of the High court's ruling. It reminds me of the story of the "Emperoro's New Clothes". While all of the articles I've read held their punches, owing in large part to the awe and high esteem the Supreme Court, though now in danger, enjoys from the people in general, this columnist said it as it is, a decision that defies logic and reasoning, this from an institution that is supposed to be the last bastion of reason.

Yes, indeed, "the sky will not fall should there be a vacancy" for the Chief Justice position. But more than that, the things that really impressed upon me about the Bersamin ponencia was that the Court took it upon itself to be read the minds of the members of a Contitutional Commission that was convened fourteen years ago. Even Superman could not have that power to go back in time and determine people's thoughts. For try as you might, read it as many times as you can, the wording of the 1987 Constitution is clear: the president cannot make any appointments two months before the holding of a a national or local elections. It does not exempt the judiciary and the framers of the constitution would not have intended it so for the simple reason that if that was their intent they would have included/written it into the constitution. Exempting the judiciary is a significant provision and the framers would not have relied on mere structuring of the constitution to put that point across.

Much ado is made of Justice Florenz Regalado's opinion, but his word is not that of the Court or that of the Con Com. As empasized, the Court, and the ConCom, is a collegial body and a single vote does not a decision make. What was decided and what won by majority rule is the view that the ban is total with the minor exception being only of temporary appointments for vacancies that might endanger public safety or public welfare if unfilled.

Indeed, these are most trying times for the judiciary, a male-dominated branch of government where recent events has shown that it is actually the women who has the balls: Judge Tolentino, for accepting the Ampatuan case without hesitation, and Justice Carpio Morales with her highly incisive dissenting opinion. Now I know why it is a woman depicted as holding the scales in the symbol for justice.

Caution: Escalators Bite!

People flocking to the mall on Valentines

Last February 14, the hubby and I together with our unica hija went to Robinsons Tacloban with the idea of dining out in one of its restaurants to celebrate Hearts Day. That idea was quickly scrapped with the mob that greeted us as we entered the mall. So many people at a given time in a given place, I bet the restaurants there were making a killing with its sales. Me and the hubby, however, decided to go someplace else more, uhmm, less populated to escape the maddening crowd.

Just as we were about to go outt by "the Mang Inasal exit", we noticed people gathering at the foot of the escalator and looking upwards towards its top that was manned by blue-shirted mall engineering personnel. A few questions thrown here and there gave me the info that a boy's clothing was caught somewhere between the steps just as the escalator was brought to a stop for reasons not disclosed. It took the engineering guys almost an hour to break him free.

Boy trapped in escalator is surrounded by engineering personnel

Angels and Demons, the Movie- What I think

(Photo credits www.allmovie.com)

What is it with Mr. Brown, has he got an axe to grind with the Catholic Church? This question one is almost tempted to ask in the middle of the movie adaptation of the novel of Dan Brown with the same title.

But I would like to give the author the benefit of the doubt and review this movie absent my own personal views on the religious aspect of it. Why? Because the movie took me for one hell (no pun intended) of a ride and left me gasping for more.

It is basically a whodunit in an unconventional way and Mr. Brown weaves his tale amidst the backdrop of the Vatican with its age-old rituals and traditions. (Warning: spoiler alert). Compared to the Da Vinci Code film, this one is indeed several degrees higher, both in action, pacing, and style. Its tightly edited putting just the right amount of action in some scenes while placing emphasis on the dialogue that makes it so much more than just a plain action thriller. While it may not grant you ephiphany it does provide food for thought long after the credits has rolled in.

The movie starts with the death of the Pope, the highest official in the Roman Catholic Church symbolized by the breaking of the Fisherman's Ring, a ring worn only by those who seat as head of the Church. Following tradition and canonical law, a conclave is convened composed of the Cardinals of the Catholic Church from all over the world tasked to choose the successor to the post first held by St. Peter. The rituals and rules of the conclave really got me fascinated and here in the movie it is central to the plot as would be revealed in the ending.

Upon the start of the conclave all the cardinals are ushered into a big room in the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican and the door is both physically and symbollically sealed. No one is to get in or get out until the purpose for which the conclave is instituted is served: that is, to elect the new leader of the Church and for whom a new Fisherman's Ring will be made and molded. Once a vote is taken, the ballots (I don't know what it is actually called) are burned and depending upon the result, two kinds of dust is burned along with it that would produce either black or white smoke. As any devout Catholic would know, black means the cardinals has not reached a consensus and the Church remains in sedente vacante, without a Pope, while a white smoke would mean that a successor has been chosen.

What makes this conclave so different from other conclaves? Well, Mr. Brown decided to put a touch of terrorism to the plot and had four of the cardinals kidnapped right from their quarters in the Sistine Chapel. And they are not just any ordinary cardinal, they are the preferiti, the strongest contenders to be the next Holy Vicar. Here, the clue is already provided as to what the movie is all about. To add spice to the story bringing with it a Tom Clancy/Die Hard touch, a newly discovered anti-matter is threatened to be used to wipe the Vatican off the face of the earth, literally. All signs point to a centuries old enemy of the Church, the secret society of the Illuminati as behind the abduction and the terrorist threat. Here enters Robert Langdon, played to perfection as before by Oscar winner Tom Hanks, the protagonist in the Da Vinci Code. He had authored a book on the society and the head of the Vatican police, Commander Olliveti, believes he could help greatly in the investigation. Racing against time, the Swiss Guard (the Vatican's equivalent of the PSG and the Secret Service), the local gendarme and Mr. Langdon work through clues provided by symbols and archives of the Catholic church to find the kidnapped cardinals before they are murdered, one by one by the hour in different fashions so sadistic this blogger cringed when watching. This is the part where I really felt uncomfortable, as to why I leave you to find out for yourself.

Ewan McGregor, as usual delivers a most impressive performance. As Carmelango, the Church official entrusted to perform the functions of Pope during sedente vacante, he is most believable as the orphan adopted by the recently dead Pope bent on protecting the Church for the ideals he believe it should fight for. The nuances and emotions he displays can be done only by an actor with a depth such as he has. I cannot give you what that particular emotion is without revealing the twist at the end so its better left unsaid. In this movie it is his character that lingers, and through no fault of Mr. Hanks (it is just that the role of Carmelango is more meatier), Ewan overshadows the academician-protagonist.

The focus on the conflict of the Illuminati and the Church brings to fore what at first seems to be the irreconciliable differences of the Church and science. If you follow closely the dialogue, it is here, in this conflict, that what is perceived to be the anti-Church stance of the author is shown. But upon the end of the movie, I changed my mind. As the Grand Elector said: "Religion is flawed only because men is flawed.."

Didn't I say in the beginning that this was basically a whodunit kind of movie? Oh, yes, because just like any whodunit, red herrings are a plenty and you would think convictions, right or wrong , and beliefs are the moving force that drives these terroristic acts in the movie. Who would have thought that one of the most common of human frailties is behind it all.

Can't Get My Groove

Its been almost two months since I lasted posted to this blog of mine. Why oh why? Blame it on the mundane requirements of life which has all but snuffed all creative juices in me. I'm at a loss on an interesting topic as subject and putting my social life on hold (indefinitely) is not helping any. Am I turning into a social hermit? My eight to five routine has not seen any deviations for the past two months, its home-office-home everyday of the week. Two people really, really like this development (clue: one is no more than three feet tall and the other has been subject of an article I wrote in a women's magazine). To give them credit, they would want me to enjoy a few nights out with girls in a month its just that they seem to be loving the undivided attention (second clue).

So, rather than bore you with insights taken from an involuntary self-exile, I would much rather keep the posts few and far between in the meantime. Should inspiration strike, then, mabilis pa sa alas kwatro, yours truly shall post again.