This is my Manila Standard column last April 27, 2009.

It’s quite hard to describe ourselves collectively as a people. But if there’s something that seems able to capture our essence as a people, it’s the fiesta. First of all, it’s the one experience that seems common to all of us—there are as many fiestas as there are many barangays and barrios in this country.

When I was growing up in a small town called Abuyog in the island of Leyte, summer meant the onset of fiesta season. The fiestas were scheduled like clockwork in the months of April and May, as if the elders of the various barrios of the town got together many scores ago to plot a timetable. A fiesta blended together religious fervor, unbridled merriment (including drunken revelry and lots of dancing), traditional games and contests, and needless to say, partaking of large quantities of food, glorious food. Nothing like a fiesta brings out our penchant to do things in the most bongga (over the top) way ever!

I think that years of experience have enabled us to bring the fiesta to the level of a science. In the past, fiestas were mainly about celebrating the feast day of a patron saint. Not anymore today. Most now adopt a specific cultural element that’s unique to the community and highlight this as the central theme of the celebration. For many, it’s a historical event such as the Sandugo festival of Bohol, which commemorates a blood compact. For others, it’s an indigenous tradition such as traditional practices of painting bodies and faces such as the Pintados of Leyte or the Boling Boling of Quezon, or a unique feature of the town such as the Ibon Ebun Festival of Candaba—a celebration of the migratory birds that flock to town’s swamps.

There’s still a religious element thrown into the picture, but for the most part, it’s almost like a token side bar to the celebration. The Sinulog of Cebu, the Dinagyang of Iloilo, the Ati-atihan of Kalibo, etc., are religious in origin, but the packaging of these festivals now reflect a unique cultural heritage of the specific locales.

Our fiestas reflect who and what we are as a people. Everything about us finds expression in the way we celebrate our fiestas, even the state of our community spirit. The value of bayanihan may be dead in other aspects of our life as a people, but it’s there—left, right and center stage—in a fiesta. Our inherent creativity, our natural artistry, even our flair for the superficial at the expense of substance—all these converge in that annual tradition that is the Philippine fiesta.

One simply had to be there last Saturday night at the Quirino Grandstand to experience how the fiesta is indeed an integral and wondrous element of our culture. The occasion was the 2009 Aliwan Festival. Dubbed as the “Festival of all festivals,” Aliwan is a courageous—and I must say highly commendable—annual project of the Manila Broadcasting Co.

This year, Aliwan drew 21 festivals from all over the country—from as far north as Laoag City (Pamulenawen Festival) to as far south as General Santos City (Kalilangan Festival). The major festivals were represented by a contingent of street dancers—from the Sinulog of Cebu, Dinagyang of Iloilo, Kadayawan of Davao, Penagbenga of Baguio City, Pamulenawen of Laoag, Pulang Angui of Bicol, etc.

It was a highly spirited competition of floats and street dancing that featured a riot of colors, an explosion of innovation and creativity, and a most importantly, the pulsating throb of national pride. Festivals like the Aliwan really deserve all the support it can get, as no other cultural event has been able to achieve what it has been able to successfully mount all these years, which is showcase the breathtaking breadth and depth of our culture. It is sad of course that government and other private organizations choose to mount their own little events instead of just pouring all our resources into what is already an established and successful venture. I was disheartened to note, for example, that the Department of Tourism still seemed happily oblivious to the Aliwan Festival. At least the Cultural Center of the Philippines and the city governments of Pasay and Manila were co-sponsors of the event.

Last Saturday’s Aliwan Festival was finally held at the Quirino Grandstand— a much bigger and more accessible venue compared to the Aliwan grounds at the CCP. I don’t want to take credit for the decision although I did suggest it last year in this column, and someone from MBC told me that my column was discussed by the organizers in one of their meetings. But the change of venue enabled more people to witness the once-a-year extravaganza, which should be the case.

This year, the judges of the Festival which included cultural luminaries such as prima ballerina Lisa Macuja and CCP president Nestor Jardin made it a point to stress their bias for more indigenous dance movements. This was an inspired decision as I have noted the seeming predilection of most festival choreographers to feature ballet and modern dance movements in street dancing entries. There’s also this rather annoying proclivity to insert gratuitous acrobatic acts into the street dancing, which as can be expected, gets the roaring attention of the crowd but which really comes across as superfluous. And of course, there’s this absurd and quite hilarious tendency to dress up dancers in glittery outfits that remind one of Christmas tree ornaments as if our indigenous costumes are not colorful enough.

Nevertheless, last Saturday’s festival was in general an extremely delightful experience. I have never seen such creativity particularly in the use of props and in theater staging. The contingents used handheld props that transformed into platforms and various contraptions that boggled the mind and took the audience’s breath away.

I must note with great pride that the grand champion this year was the Buyogan Festival of my very own hometown, Abuyog Leyte. The Festival has really gone a long way. What makes the festival unique is that it features not professional dancers but high school students and elementary pupils—from a very small town in the heart of Leyte. The kids traveled aboard several buses from Leyte and had very little resources to cover its participation. But what it lacked in resources, it more than made up for with sheer talent and determination.

I hope that government and other private organizations such as the media rally behind the annual Aliwan Festival so that it can become even grander than it already is, ennoble more festivals to participate, and enable more Filipinos to sit up and notice it. It’s a shame that not very many people know something we can all draw pride in exists.

In closing, I’d like to express my heartfelt thanks to Ellen Fullido, vice president for Human Resources and Eleanor Ebreo of the MBC who literally plucked me from the sidewalk where I was watching the festival and gave me access to the VIP section of the grandstand.

See you at the next Aliwan Festival where I am confident my hometown festival will successfully be able to defend its title as overall champion.

This is my Manila Standard column last April 22, 2009.

For quite some time now, we Filipinos have taken at face value the assertion by certain quarters that we are the “Texting Capital of the World.” It is alleged that the volume of text messages we exchange on a daily basis is far greater than the annual output of many European countries combined. I really don’t know if the record—or the self-anointed title—is something to gloat about.

It’s a fact that we are a people with a propensity for staking claims on various global records and distinctions, some with dubious value. I know that there’s nothing inherently wrong with such a propensity; I also agree that there’s a lot of good to be had from having grand aspirations. I think that aspiring to be the best in a particular discipline or holding records for being the fastest in a competitive event deserves commendation. Unfortunately, this propensity has reached ridiculous levels such as when towns and cities begin holding all kinds of festivals to create the biggest turon, bibingka, barbecue, salad, etc.

To be fair, we’re not the only people in the world that has become gaga over getting mentioned in the Guinness Book of World Records. If it is any consolation, at least we do not have people who have not cut their nails, or hairs, or have not bathed since they were born just to continue being in the list—or at least not yet. But as if these overt efforts to snag world records are not enough, we also happen to have this propensity to make hyperbolic statements—even without the benefit of empirical evidence to back us up. For example, I get dismayed when people make statements such as how we are the “basket case of Asia.” Or about how we are a “nation of cheats.”

Okay, I’m digressing. To go back to my original point, I am concerned that no one it seems has done any analysis on why, how come, and what does it mean being the “texting capital of the world.” I don’t expect the telecom companies who are raking profits from the service to raise a howl, of course. But surely consumer groups should have something to say on the matter; perhaps our legislators?

One obvious factor that has spurned the phenomenon is that the charges for text messaging in this country are smaller than those for voice calls. In other countries, the tariff for sending text messages is the same and in some cases, more expensive than making calls. Thus in countries like India and Thailand, people call each other rather than send text messages. So text messaging is cheaper. That still does not answer the question why we seem to be sending more text messages out there. In fact, economics complicate the issue because if it costs money to send text messages, why are people spending hard-earned money on it instead of buying more essential stuff?

Given how popular it is, and given how texting is so prevalent in this country even among children (my 7-year-old nieces don’t have cell phones, but they sure know how to text), isn’t it about time that we take proactive steps—not to regulate it—but to ensure that the service is being used more effectively and to make sure that there are enough measures to protect consumers and certain sectors of society such as children from unintended consequences?

I want to be clear about this: I am not advocating that we regulate text messaging in this country. I am against any form of censorship or curtailment of freedom of expression. Nor am I advocating draconian measures to address certain emerging trends in the way text messaging is being used today. What we need to put in place are proactive measures such as better education and information campaigns directed at the more vulnerable populations such as children. I want to highlight these because God knows how the minds of certain legislators in this country works—they think that regulation is the key to most problems and that crafting another law and creating yet another regulatory body solve problems in this country.

Before you think I am over-reaching here, let me tell you about my personal experience with texting in the last two weeks. One of my main advocacies is HIV/AIDS prevention and education. As most everyone in this country knows, we are seeing a new wave of infections in the country, particularly among certain vulnerable populations such as younger people. In the last few weeks, I have been immersed in the activities of text messaging-based groups more popularly known as “clans.” I decided to join a “clan” to be able to understand the patterns of interaction among more vulnerable populations.

Thanks to promotion programs of our telecom companies, unlimited texting is a service that is readily available to everyone. I have discovered, by virtue of my joining a “clan,” that the term “unlimited” is not an exaggeration. I have been receiving, on average, 40-75 messages per hour—many of these messages I just delete and don’t read anymore. And the clan I joined is smaller compared to other more established clans out there.

Clans use the unlimited texting service of our telecom companies pretty much as virtual chat rooms, with each member sending messages to the whole clan in “general message” mode. So if a clan has 50 members, that’s the number of people conversing at any given time each one responding to each other, with every other member of the clan as eavesdropping or reacting to the conversations. The discussions cover a whole range of interests and concerns— from the weather to intimate stuff to well, fetishes and perversions.

Clans have regular general eyeballs (that’s cyberspeak for a meet-up). I went to one last weekend at a place that is generally accepted as the venue for clan activities. I couldn’t believe the sheer number of people that were there. There were at least 20 clans having an eyeball in that place on that night. What was more interesting was this: Most of the people were high school students— people aged 14-17. The place was bursting at the seams with people—each one holding a cell phone. And yes, intimacy was very much in the air. It was very clear that for most of the people in that place, the evening would end in bed.

I was told of course that clans are not just avenues to meet people but also serve other purposes, some primarily functioning as some kind of social support system. Like anything, it is a double-edged sword. What is very clear, however, is that text messaging is now a platform for a different kind of interaction. Small wonder we are the texting capital of the world. However, text messaging is just a tool. Like anything else, it can be used positively or negatively.

Let me repeat: I hope our legislators, our regulatory officials, government, and even police authorities do not react to this phenomenon with hasty programs that really do not provide long-term or even effective solutions. I have purposely chosen not to reveal identities and locations because I fear that the police will react by raiding the establishments that play host to these clan parties. I really hope they don’t because doing so will only drive the clans underground, which will make them even more difficult to access for prevention and education programs. What we need to do is reach out to these groups and conduct more information and education awareness programs.

The best response is information and education. The best form of control is self-control. The most effective solutions are those that empower the communities and individuals themselves to act in ways that promote their self-interest.

This is my Manila Standard column last April 20, 2009.

Now that people seemed to have come to their senses, perhaps it is time to talk about the Failon tragedies in a calm and sober manner. Yes, the use of the plural form in the previous sentence was deliberate. The unfortunate death of Trina Arteche Etong was just the first of a series of tragedies that happened last week.

I did write a very impassioned piece on the incident in my Web log last week in reaction to the monumental blunders (a reader of my blog called it epic failure) of the officers belonging to the Quezon City Police District Criminal Investigation and Detection Unit. I don’t regret writing that piece where I cursed to high heavens the utter senselessness and the extreme viciousness displayed by the police officers.

Department of Justice Secretary Raul Gonzalez has tried to explain, in his usual sardonic way, the general demeanor of the police officials as “enthusiasm.” I don’t know if there’s anyone out there who still puts any weight on the Justice Secretary‘s opinions, but one has to grant that the attempt to inject a positive spin was amusing.

But at least it was an indirect admission that the death of Ted Failon’s wife did receive “special attention” from the police.

In a country where police response to crimes is often compared to that of a three-toed sloth taking its own sweet time, the display of zealousness should have been worthy of commendation. One can only wish that the supposed “enthusiasm” was also tempered with compassion. It seemed that in their haste to show that they are capable of quick action, they forgot that the incident was not just a potential criminal case. Trina Arteche Etong was a wife, a mother, a sister, a friend. It was also an occasion for grieving.

Unfortunately, our police officials don’t seem to be acquainted with the concept although they seemed to have handled the case of Rod Strunk in the celebrated Nida Blanca murder many years ago with a little more sobriety. It wouldn’t really hurt for the police to be contrite at this point and to apologize.

Our police officials really need to learn to be more “human.” Very often, what victims really need is empathy and concern rather than swift solutions. We all know that crimes take some time to solve. Of course we want solutions, but we first want them to be a reassuring presence; to convince us that something is being done.

I am not discounting the possibility that “revenge” was also a motivation on the part of the police. Police inaction or ineffectiveness has been one of Ted Failon’s favorite advocacies. But it’s an insinuation that remains to be proven, so in fairness to the police, probably best left as a sidebar for the moment.

Much of the frenzy, however, should be attributed to the sensationalized reportage of media. ABS-CBN went out of its way to issue an official statement appealing to everyone to respect the privacy of the Failon family during the difficult time. Ironically, the same media company was at the forefront of the coverage reporting the minutest detail of each revelation.

I hope that everyone has learned a lesson from the series of tragedies. It would be such a waste if Etong’s death is simply relegated to one of those unfortunate things that happen in this country every now and then.

***

Press Secretary Cerge Remonde has finally acknowledged, and vociferously denied, rumors that have been going around and around for about two weeks now on who ordered that ill-fated helicopter to fly out of Baguio causing the death of six people. The version of the rumor that was relayed to me unequivocally put the blame squarely on Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.

The President, famous for her micromanagement tendencies, was supposed to have given marching orders for the advance team to fly out of Baguio pronto on that fateful afternoon. The rumor painted the President as a tyrant who barked orders with nary a care for the welfare and safety of her underlings.

Given that we have seen the President on many occasions fuming mad and throwing a fit on public and the many stories around her legendary temper, I can understand why that particular rumor soon became almost like Gospel truth. What I couldn’t believe though was how Senator Rodolfo Biazon—a former military officer, might I add—fell for that rumor, even calling for a Senate investigation in the process.

My personal reaction when the rumor reached me was that it was a disservice to the victims of the tragedy. It painted them as automatons—brainless people who scurried around to comply with orders without the benefit of some thinking process.

The other rumor implicated presidential son Rep. Mikey Arroyo. The rumor alleged that the other reason that caused the delay of the team’s departure was that the First Son was still using the chopper for highly personal—and therefore suspicious—reasons. The Palace has denied the rumor.

What are we to make of these rumors and our seeming predilection to believe the worst of the First Family? Of course it is indicative of the level of unpopularity of the current occupants of the Palace.

But to be fair, these have happened before. A lot of rumors swirled around the Marcoses when they were in power some of them really incredible such as those ones about Bongbong Marcos’s alleged drunken sprees. There were also rumors about the Ramoses, the Aquinos, and the Estradas.

The usual explanation being proffered is that these are all part of our attempts to “humanize” people who live in palaces. We make fun of them, make them fodder for jokes, reduce them to caricatures, even ridicule them for their foibles.

But really, at a time when we have all these technology at our disposal to clarify issues and inform people of the real score, one wonders why it takes quite some time for our leaders to set the record straight quickly and effectively.