In memoriam, Lourdes "Chit" Estella-Simbulan (1958-2011)

On our way home riding a jeepney one afternoon when I was in Grade Four, a bunch of people handed out to us and our fellow passengers free copies of The Manila Times. That was in mid-1999, and though I no longer recall where the distribution of these papers happened, I will not forget its main story: “Nasagasaan kami ng jeep ni Erap.” The piece goes with a cropped photo of the then President driving a jeep.

Because of the pro-Estrada sentiments in our family at that time, and because I am merely 9 then, I didn’t give much attention to it. I didn’t even set aside that give-away for posterity’s sake! I was only able to realize the importance of that moment many years later, when I was already a journalism student in UP Diliman. I learn the true story behind the paper being “ran over.” Estrada filed a Php 99 million libel case against the paper, and facing the prospect of a prolonged legal tussle against the country’s most powerful man, the paper folded up, and then changed owners.

One of the key figures in that event was the late Lourdes “Chit” Estella-Simbulan, Manila Times’ then-managing editor. As I took my first journalism class in mid-2007 (History of the Press, under Ms Evelyn Katigbak), I learned about that classic episode in Philippine media’s history. Over a year later, I’d be enrolled in one of her classes.

As a final requirement for that subject titled “The Newsroom,” students must produce a newspaper by the end of the semester. The class had its line-up of news executives, and I was the paper’s associate editor, or second-in-command. For reasons that already escapes me now, we named the paper “The Signum,” a name Prof. Simbulan later described as “innovative, creative, (and) interesting, though a bit strange.” All did not go smoothly. Deadlines weren’t met, while some seemed uncommitted; printing the newspaper became a problem, too. There were moments of introspection and self-blaming, compelling the paper’s top three editors (including me) to write separate open letters via our online group. Weeks after that, Prof. Simbulan gave a detailed two-page critique of our work. Though she made some pointed comments like “some headlines were stretched disproportionately,” “not a very careful use of bastard layouting,” and “proofreading can be improved throughout the newspaper,” she was appreciative of the paper’s strong points, writing:

“The Signum was a good first attempt at a newspaper. Its choice of stories was good, the opinions were earnest. Although it had its fair share of technical lapses, the substance made up for these. The newspaper had heart. “

That was a vindication for the efforts our entire class exerted for that output. I would’ve wanted to take other classes under her, but she went on study leave on my senior year. I remember gleefully answering a two-page “test” about Philippine history as part of her graduate studies research late 2009. Nevertheless, we still got to exchange pleasantries whenever I see her around the campus, or during her lunch meals with my thesis adviser Prof. Yvonne Chua.

I once kidded her (outside the UP College of Mass Communication building) that the only way she’d be my professor again is if I’d stay in UP beyond April 2010, my graduation date. She said she hopes that I’ve already graduated by then, and humorously quipped, “and with a job!” She emceed that year’s college graduation rites, and right after the ceremonies, I went up the platform of the UP Film Center to … have a photo with her. She gladly obliged, and now that she’s gone, that picture became all the more priceless to me.

I asked if she has a Facebook account. She said yes, but I was never able to search it. Months later, we saw each other again in the college. I came to ask for a recommendation from Prof. Chua about my application for MA History last August 2010. After greeting her, she ribbed me: “Mr. Madrona, I thought you already graduated!” Of all my journalism professors, she’s the only one to call me that way. It is saddening to note though that that encounter was the last time I saw her alive.

On my way out of Arlington’s Felicidad chapel, I approached Mr. Roland Simbulan to say how proud I am to have been once under his wife’s mentorship. The appreciative wido

w told me while shaking my hand: “Chit lives on through students like you.” The important lessons in journalism integrity and professionalism that she emphasized to us will be her biggest legacy, but Mam Chit is irreplaceable.

A hero’s burial for Marcos is a shameless attempt to rewrite history

Over 200 lawmakers in the Philippine Congress have signed House Resolution 1135. Introduced by Sorsogon Rep. Salvador Escudero III, HR 1135 urges President Benigno Aquino III to allow the burial of the late strongman Ferdinand Marcos in the Libingan ng mga Bayani (National Heroes’ Cemetery). The essence of the resolution in itself is abhorrent, while the justifications cited in the “whereas” clauses betray either a sheer ignorance of established facts or a shameless attempt to twist history.

Among those who endorsed HR 1135 is former President and now Pampanga Rep. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, her sons Mikey and Dato, and brother-in-law Iggy (of Jose Pidal fame). Celebrities-turned-lawmakers Dan Fernandez, Lani Mercado-Revilla, and Lucy Torres-Gomez also backed the said resolution. Naturally, Imelda Marcos signed the move, together with Pangasinan Rep. Kimi Cojuangco (Danding’s daughter-in-law), San Juan Rep. Joseph Victor Ejercito, and Las Piñas Rep. Mark Villar[1]. Ejercito’s father, former President Joseph Estrada, also moved for Marcos’ burial in Libingan ng mga Bayani during his presidency. Meanwhile, Sen. Manny Villar got the Marcoses’ endorsement for his 2010 presidential run.

The resolution commended Marcos for being “a well-decorated soldier, a veteran of World War II, and a survivor of the Bataan Death March.” Official U.S Army records have quelled his tale of leading a guerilla unit named Ang Mga Maharlika as early as late 1940s. One of those who unearthed this damaging fact (as far as Marcos is concerned) is American historian Alfred McCoy from the University of Wisconsin. He detailed his research in the book Closer than Brothers. His findings were reported by New York Times in 1986. The front-page story was released merely two weeks before that year’s snap presidential elections between Marcos and Corazon Aquino. Some excerpts[2]:

“Throughout his political career, Mr. Marcos, now President of the Philippines, has portrayed himself as a heroic guerrilla leader, and the image has been central to his political appeal… Documents that had rested out of public view in United States Government archives for 35 years show that repeated Army investigations found no foundation for Mr. Marcos's claims that he led a guerrilla force called Ang Mga Maharlika in military operations against Japanese forces from 1942 to 1944.”

HR 1135 noted that Marcos “built the modern foundations of the Philippines” as its “longest serving president.” “He was responsible for the construction of vast infrastructure, the utilization of our energy sources, and the strengthening of local governments.” No mention of the fact that these projects (e.g. the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant) were financed by foreign institutions like World Bank and International Monetary Fund, and that the bulk of these were pocketed by who else? In 2004, Transparency International ranked Marcos as the 2^nd most corrupt leader in the world, next only to Indonesia’s Suharto[3]. His loot was pegged at $10 billion. In fact, a government body was created to try to recover the Marcoses’ ill-gotten wealth.

“It can never be gainsaid that Ferdinand Marcos gave invaluable service to his country as soldier, writer, statesman, President, and commander-in-chief.” The effects of the Marcos dictatorship in many aspects of the Philippine society has been studied extensively the past decades by a wide array of scholars, journalists, political scientists, historians and many others. A cursory view of these would reveal a legacy of failure. I am not a big fan of the current president, I did not even vote for him. However, we cannot just allow this blatant attempt to sugarcoat reality.

On the entrance of the Libingan ng mga Bayani, it is written: "I do not know the dignity of his birth, but I do know the glory of his death." What is glorious in having 3,257 killed, 35,000 tortured, and 70,000 political dissidents incarcerated under your administration[4]?

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[1] ______________. Does your representative approve of Marcos' burial in Libingan? ABS-CBN News Online. http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/nation/03/29/11/does-your-representative-approve-marcos-burial-libingan. Accessed March 29, 2011.

[2] Gerth, Jeff and Brinkley, J. Marcos Wartime Role Discredited in U.S. Files. New York Times Online. http://www.nytimes.com/1986/01/23/world/marcos-s-wartime-role-discredited-in-us-files.html?scp=2&sq=ferdinand+marcos+war+medals&st=nyt

[3] _____________. Suharto tops corruption rankings. BBC News Online.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/3567745.stm. Article dated March 25, 2004.

[4] McCoy, Alfred. Dark legacy: Human rights under the Marcos regime. World History Archives. http://www.hartford-hwp.com/archives/54a/062.html. Accessed April 15, 2011.

Remembering how I looked for a job last year ...

I promised to write about my entire job hunting experience once I finally get hired. I earned my Journalism degree (with honors) from the country’s premiere state university last April 25. Though I never had illusions of getting offers without having to apply, I never expected job hunting to take three months. In fact, I’ve lost count of how many times I passed/emailed my resume to prospective employers. Here are my most memorable moments:

*One Saturday last June, I got a call from a Makati City-based insurance company. The HR lady invited me for an interview the following week. Though I never heard of them before, I tried my luck for the position Assistant Communication Agent. Probably out of naiveté, I wrote P20, 000 as my expected pay. The HR lady asked, “Where did you get this?” She said she’d call after two days. She never did.

*I then sought a reportorial job for a business daily. I assume I passed the written and IQ tests there because the HR lady scheduled me for an interview with their managing editor. On the day of the interview, bad luck prevailed. Instead of dropping me off in E. Rodriguez Avenue (in Quezon City), the jeepney I rode took me to E. Rodriguez High School. I arrived 15 minutes late, and Mr. Managing Editor refused to even see me.

*Why not be an English teacher for Koreans? I applied in two such schools, one in Ortigas and one in Commonwealth. I decided not to pursue it just when I was about to start my training. By this time, the issue on pay has already been discussed to me. Teaching Koreans the very basics of English (similar to how we begin at Grade 1) requires tons of patience. Patience? I don’t know that word.

*Early this month, I applied to be a content writer for a web hosting company. The interview lasted for over an hour. It deviated from the normal question-and-answer scheme of things. The interviewer asked me about my job hunting experience and I told her that “it’s not the easiest experience I’ve had.” Instead of speaking to impress her, I found myself plainly expressing my thoughts. Though I didn’t pursue a full-time job with her company, I appreciated being able to speak out my mind.

Companies stress that “fresh graduates are welcome to apply” but when these job seekers (despite of their academic credentials) are pitted against more experienced applicants, the former isn’t likely to be hired. Both the employers and job hunters are choosy. The question is who can afford to be choosy for a longer time? Throughout my job hunting, I stood by my belief that I should only seek jobs commensurate to what I’ve studied.

Come to think of it, there will always be available positions for everyone. Of all the vacant jobs out there, we can only get one (in mot cases). Somehow, I never stopped believing that all of us have several career options, and we should take the time to study them. Before July ended, I already turned a new page in my life. Last Saturday (August 14), I got my first pay slip.

*Mark Pere Madrona, 20, is currently working as an assistant editor for a Quezon City-based book publishing company. He is currently a Master of Arts in History student in UP Diliman.

The old man, the jeepney driver, and the 20% discount

I was riding a jeepney (from their makeshift terminal in Centris mall-Quezon City) on the way home from work last March 28. Commuting everyday is something that I’ve done since Grade 4, around mid-1999. I’ve witnessed many things there through the years (like millions of Filipinos, I suppose). My experience that Monday night is one of those curious moments.

The jeepney is already traversing the Commonwealth Avenue when this thin sexagenarian man, clad in a white give-away shirt, asked how much he’s going to pay. Based on what I heard, he went aboard in PANTRANCO (along in Quezon Avenue) and will be going down in COA (Commission on Audit), besides Sandiganbayan. Here’s the heated exchange between the blue-polo wearing driver and the old man, as I recall it:

Old man: Magkano po ang pasahe mula PANTRANCO hanggang COA?

Driver: Disisais (P16).

Old man: Magkano kung senior citizen?

Driver: Katorse (P14). Dalawang piso (P2) ang bawas.

Old man: Ilang percent ba ang discount? 20% ‘di ba? Alam kong mahirap ang buhay, mataas ang presyo ng gasoline, pero ilalagay nyo sa lugar. Kung P3 ang discount, ibigay nyo.

Apparently disgusted, the driver handed the old man another peso. Based on the 20% discount rule for senior citizens, students, and persons with disabilities, the old man should have been charged for only P12.75. The one-peso difference is negligible for many of us, and for asserting his rights. It takes guts to do that.

As a student of the UP Diliman (where I’m now taking my Master’s in History), I have encountered jeepney drivers who look at me with suspicion whenever I say “estudyante po.” They are still trapped in the notion that all students don uniforms. Asking for this discount sometimes results in heated arguments between the passenger and the driver. Many times, I just opt to not mention that fact at all so as to save myself from the hassle. I am sure that many others share this view. I know this is not right, since I am refusing to assert something to which I am truly entitled.

From Maguindanao to Taguig: The Story of “Kaisha”

The recruiter sounded reassuring. Kaisha (not her real name) still recall how the former, whom she described as a “kaibigan ng kaibigan” (friend of a friend), was able to convince her Buluan, Maguindanao-based father to allow her to seek work in the Middle East. The man is talking about a job opportunity in Syria, and Kaisha’s family does not need to shell out a single centavo to process her papers.

“Sabi ng recruiter, ‘wag kayo mag-alala. Lahat ng gastos sa akin’” (Don’t worry. I’ll shoulder all expenses), Kaisha said. As the fourth in a family of six, the offer is tempting for her. Her parents work in the cornfields as their chief livelihood. The promise of earning $200 a month in Syria would surely help her impoverished family, she thought. In November 2008, after many send-off gatherings, she bade her family goodbye to prepare for her placement. She spent the next 14 months in the recruiter’ “accommodating” place in Taguig City (a city in southern Metro Manila) along with 20 others, mostly girls.

When Kaisha asked the recruiter when her flight would be, she was told that “inaayos pa ang mga papeles mo” (Your papers are still being fixed). Apparently, fixing her papers requires changing her name and birth date for her birth certificate, passport, and visa. Her documents indicate that she’s already 21 though she is just 15.

The United Nations defines human trafficking as the “recruitment and transportation of persons, by means of threat or use of force or other forms of coercion, of abduction, of fraud, of deception…for the purpose of exploitation." The U.S State Department had reported in 2003 that along with drugs and guns, it is one of the most profitable underground businesses worldwide. Official figures on this phenomenon are unreliable since much more cases go unreported. Around 80 % of the victims are women and girls, according to the HumanTrafficking.org website.

“Traffickers clandestinely organize their transport operations via different ports and land routes in the Philippines. Internal trafficking is the springboard for international trafficking,” says the Visayan Forum Foundation (VFF) in its website. VFF, a non-government organization that helps survivors of trafficking, adds that “internal trafficking is the springboard for international trafficking.” “Traffickers operate in underground networks with strong connections to corrupt public officials and transport operators,” VFF elaborated.

Last January, Kaisha’s deployment date finally arrived. The recruiter secured a residence visa for her, even if she does not have any relatives in Syria. Interviewed at the VFF shelter house in Manila South Harbor, she said the recruiter will get her full salary for the first six months of her employment instead of the typical salary reduction scheme to pay off her debts. She was given a three-year contract though the nature of her work was never explained. Instead, the agent instructed her that “kahit ano mangyari sa iyo, magtiis ka! Wag ka tatakas” (No matter what happens, just stay with your employer).

The order seems to be a preview of how things might have been in Syria. VFF resident social worker Marichel Ecalante said Kaisha will most likely end up as a domestic helper under “extremely abusive situations” like being subjected to forced labor, sexual exploitation, and debt bondage.

Escalante explained that Kaisha’s decision to stay in the agent’s safe house despite the long delay in her placement might be the result of her fear toward the latter. “They (the recruits) also do not want to lose a sure employment opportunity,” she added. This is not surprising for Kaisha, who came from an impoverished and conflict-torn southern Philippine province of Maguindanao. Another factor considered is the shame of being tagged as a trafficking victim.

The double whammy of being poor and a perpetual battle-zone of the military, Islamic separatists, and private armies deprive Maguindanaonons of basic social services (like health and education services) and even livelihood means. Kaisha’s acquaintances in the community (some of them are minors too) had left the country in search of a better life.

Kaisha is already in the Ninoy Aquino International Airport (NAIA) II waiting for her flight when a plain-clothed airport operative approached and asked for her passport. “Nung nakita nya sa passport na 21 (years old) ako, nagtanong: ’21 ka na? Hindi nga?” (You are already 21? Really?), she recalled. “Takot ako sa recruiter. Akala ko makukulong ako” (I am afraid of the recruiter. I thought I would be jailed).

The official determined that her passport is baklas (fake). She was then brought to the airport clinic where a dental examination was conducted to reveal her real age. The official, whose name she cannot remember anymore, assured her that she won’t be jailed because she is the victim. Kaisha was saved by a member of the NAIA Anti-Trafficking Task Force, a group that operates under the Inter-Agency Council Against Trafficking.

Government personnel may have saved Kaisha’s life in this case, but the 2009 U.S. Department of State’s Trafficking in Persons Report noted that there are instances where “immigration and police officers are complicit in human trafficking.” In 2003, President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo signed into law Republic Act 9208 or the Anti-Trafficking in Persons Act. This was hailed by many NGOs as a useful tool in curbing the menace. Meanwhile, the U.S government chastised the Philippines “for not fully complying with the minimum standards for the elimination of trafficking” though “there are significant efforts to do so.” Humantrafficking.org estimates place the number of trafficking victims in the country at 400,000.

The Anti-Trafficking Act prohibits the reception and transportation of an individual “done under the pretext of domestic and overseas employment” for the “purpose of slavery, prostitution, exploitation, debt bondage and servitude.” Stiff penalties await the law violators: a fine of P 1-5 million and possible lifetime imprisonment. There have been very few convictions so far, though, since judicial proceedings in the country drags on for years.

To prevent human trafficking, Escalante stressed the importance of vigilance on the part of the government, side-by-side with NGOs. The VFF compound, for example, has a wide window overlooking the disembarkation area of the Manila South Harbor. Their volunteers are looking around for passengers who bear the typical characteristics of someone being trafficked: minors huddled in groups, looking lost, and unfamiliar with the nation’s capital.

Once they spot someone who fits this description, the volunteers alert nearby police officers and ship owners. “Usually, out-of-school youth sila. Hindi nila kilala ang kanilang mga employers. Normally, dapat alam nila yun” (They also don’t who their employers are which shouldn’t be the case), Escalante said.

VFF suggests a three-pronged approach to combat human trafficking. First, the state must police its own ranks to prevent and eliminate collusion between the traffickers and government employees. Second, the transport sector must do its share in being vigilant and must be an ally in the effort. Referred to as “the most crucial pivot point in trafficking,” the NGO says the transport phase is the last point of visibility for the victim and traffickers. Proper intervention must be done in this phase. Local officials in far-flung communities where illegal recruiters get their victims must also be included in the campaign.

After being rescued at the airport, Kaisha was turned over to the VFF shelter. Here, she’s with other victims of trafficking (mostly minors). They are provided with recreational activities and assigned house chores, just like in a normal home. Jut before the interview, Kaisha and six others were gyrating to the tune of Beyonce Knowles’ “Single Ladies.” They also undergo therapy sessions before they return to their families.

Kaisha, who hasn’t seen her parents since November 2008, will be ferried to Maguindanao this March 25 (2010). She said she’ll say sorry to her family for not being able to work overseas. It is not easy to readjust to the life the survivors used to have. Escalante said it is important for the local social welfare offices in the area to provide Kaisha and others like her the needed education and livelihood training so they can start better lives. She conceded though that given the situation in Maguindanao, this may not be possible.

Kaisha dreams of becoming a nurse someday so she can finally help her family financially. “Mangyari pa kaya yun? Sana lang” (Will it happen? I hope so), she said. The tinge of sad resignation to her plight is apparent in her words – and she’s certainly not the only one facing the same situation.

Degrading BOTH gays and women through "Nagmahal Ng Bakla"

Degrading gays and women through rap music

The song "Nagmahal ng Bakla" by rap group Dagtang Lason received frequent airplay during the past few months. Radio stations played it repeatedly while its video has been uploaded in YouTube, and have tens of thousands of views so far. It has witty lyrics and a catchy tune, making the song inflicted in people's heads. In fact, even young children can sing-along to it. The group, meanwhile, has performed the song live in "Sharon" and "Wowowee." Given the message of this song, such publicity isn't only unwarranted - it is also dangerous.

What does the song really say? Here are the lyrics of its chorus:

Mga tambay lang kami sawa sa babae
May mga babaeng manloloko
Pineperahan lang kami
Kaya ngayon bakla na lang ang aming iibigin
Masarap magmahal ang bakla
Ohh kay sarap... damhin

Basically, it tells us that since most girls are merely looking for sugar daddies (or boys they can use as cash cows), these tambays (street bystanders) now prefer gays as their lovers. They now want homosexual males because they are already "sawa sa babae." It's as if females are muffin meals that males can just toss away once they get so used to its taste. What about the gays? They are being treated as an alternative giver of pleasure for men. "Kaya ngayon, bakla na lamang ang aming iibigin," the song goes.

There is no mention here about the need of gays to be loved in their own right - and not as an extender for women. Upon close examination, the song's chorus also lacks logic. How can a plain tambay serve as a cash one? How can he be a financial provider then? Scattered throughout the song are other lines that condescend both women and gays.

The view that homosexuals are just being used as plain sex objects (or a way by which a man releases his urges) is supported by the line: "Hinanakit sa babae ang dahilan / Kung bakit nagmahal ako ng tulad niya / Kahit siya ay pangit." The song says that though the thought of being in a relationship with a gay man is still repulsive (because of the latter's supposed ugliness) for these tambays, they would still tolerate it because women only break their hearts.

The lines "Kaya nagdesisyon tuloy ang puso na laging bigo / Na bakla na lang ang iibigin ko" and "Kahit karumal-dumal pa ang kanyang (the gay) pagmumukha / Basta wag niya lang akong gawing kaawa-awa" gives a negative generalization of women as domineering beings and a characterization even while it degrades gays as ugly receivers (taga-salo) of distraught men.

The song gives macho males the privilege of choosing who between females and gays can best satisfy their needs (both emotional and sexual). Though the song says that straight males can fall for gays, the meanness toward gays remain obvious. "Kaya sa bigo, sa mga babae diyan / Umibig ng bakla, nakakalat lang yan diyan," a line states. What does these mean? It subtly suggests that gays are always lurking around, searching desperately for a man. Unsurprisingly, the rap single also mentioned the typical gay-gives-the-guy-money stereotype: "Bakla na lang ang iibigin ko / Di na ko masasaktan, nagkapera pa ako."

Other disturbing lines include: "Bago tayo magtabi sa kama, magpa-opera ka muna." Apparently, the guy here is telling his gay lover that before they can have sex, the later must first undergo a sex transplant (so the gay can have the body of a woman?). This is like saying that gays must try hard to look like a "real" woman. Another line goes like this: "Relasyon natin ay parang ginto / Mahal kita, wag lang sana akong magkatulo." The tambay is now worried that he might contract a sexually transmitted infection (STI) from his gay partner. Really? Given that these tambays' desire for women has reached the saturation point ("sawa sa babae"), isn't it that they are the more likely carrier of STIs?

We all know that the recording industry is taking serious blows from the global financial crisis, unabated piracy and the rise of online music-sharing. The entertainment world, meanwhile, is becoming more crowded with almost everyone wanting to be famous. Coming up with a controversial single that gets tremendous airplay and good record sales may be good from a business perspective. But what if in the process, both gays and women are being maligned repeatedly?

Music is a major part of any culture. It reflects us as a people. In return, music (and other media) influences the way individuals think because of its ubiquity. When this power is used to perpetuate the hostility toward those wrongly regarded as belonging to the "second" and "third" sexes, it becomes bothersome. This is why the popularity of "Nagmahal ng Bakla" is dangerous.