Saturday, June 28, 2008

Many things can happen in ONE MONTH:

The first batch of facilitators show what they're made of in Zamboanga City.
Lilli the German-Filipina gymnast in Talikod.
Discussing the Bangsamoro Right to Self-Determination in Jolo, Sulu.

A family traveling to unknown destination in Lamitan, Basilan.
Good friends make the world go round at home on the rooftop.
Celebrating 27 years of existence at Autoshop.


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Friday, May 9, 2008

Satra, the Yakan from Basilan

Last December 9, Angan-Angan (Dreams) won the Mindanao Shorts in the Kontra-Agos film festival known for showing films that “go against the grain.” In an interview, Sheron Dayoc, the director, reveals Angan-Angan (Dreams) is really a story about the Yakan women of Basilan.

In the jungles of Basilan a grandmother is weaving. She tells her ten year old granddaughter to learn how to weave in order to appear attractive to men. But the girl seems to have other plans. In one poignant scene in Angan-Angan (Dreams), the girl is squatting outside a classroom longingly watching and listening to the students reciting after their teacher. Her father passes by, sees her, and is furious. “I don’t want you to be like your mother,” he says, and drags her home. A series of flashbacks show that the girl’s mother left her family to join the Bangsamoro Movement despite her husband’s disapproval. The girl remembers that day well and is now torn about what to do – get married or get an education? In the end, the girl decides to follow her dream.

“That’s the beauty of the film,” says Fernand Salinas, a Mindanaoan filmmaker based in Davao City. “The ending doesn’t reveal what exactly the girl decides. The girl only says, ‘I will follow my dream and leaves her father. It’s up to the audience to decide what she’s going to do.”

In Zamboanga City, Sheron Dayoc, the director of Angan-Angan (Dreams), sits down for a chat in Katribu, a compound of bars, restos, and coffee shops where disco lights and mist cover a stage decked with instruments. Puffing on one cigarette after another, Sheron raises his voice above the blaring hip hop music and reveals that there are seven other community films made by filmmakers from Mindanao. All were commissioned by the Local Governance Support Program in ARMM (LGSPA) to show the many positive changes happening in ARMM, a region that is associated with terrorists, violence, and poverty.

In September 2007, LGSPA sent the filmmakers to join Nick de Ocampo’s directing workshop. Sheron recalls, “For Nick, the script is the backbone of the film. But visuals bring life to the script.” Nick’s input on the use of space was also something Sheron appreciated. “I learned that a shot doesn’t have to be complicated,” he says. “What’s important is that the shot has to say something about the film. Each shot should advance to the next shot.”

In October 2007, LGSPA sent the filmmakers to a community development workshop in Zamboanga City where they worked with 30 selected residents of Tawitawi, Sulu and Basilan in conceptualizing the scripts. Each group of 6 to 8 residents sat with a director and shared their life stories. Aside from this, the residents helped establish the setting. They described the tourist spots, the language used, the way people dress, their customs and beliefs. Of the Basilan residents, all except one were Yakan women; native settlers of Basilan. They shared stories of early marriages, and having to weave yet wanting to go to school.

For centuries, Yakans have been marrying off their young children who, after the elaborate ceremony, continue to live with their parents until they reach puberty. This gave Sheron the idea to film ten year old Satra on her wedding day. “Her father,” Sheron explains, “fears that if she gets an education, she will get Christianized and start having liberal ideas like equality between men and women.”

Sheron further explains that in the film, Satra’s mother is a Christian from Lamitan, Basilan who converted to Islam when she married a Muslim. The mother’s ability to read and write makes her intellectually superior to the father, and a source of inspiration to her daughter. When the mother is killed in a battle between the Bangsamoro and the military, the distraught father’s dislike for education grows. But before the dislike blows out of proportion, his mother tells him that she would have gone to school if she had the choice. She weaves not because she likes to, but because she doesn’t know anything else to do. The last scenes show Satra’s father arriving on her wedding day and giving her a paper with a drawing. For Sheron, this is the clincher. It signifies that the father is finally allowing his daughter to leave her marriage and go to school.

Indeed, Angan-Angan (Dreams) is full of symbolisms and viewers are often left to read between the lines. The message is crystal clear though: acceptance of new ideas takes time in Yakan culture but small steps have been taken by a few like Satra, her mother, grandmother, father, and the increasing number of Yakan women today who are in school and have even taken up influential positions in government.

(Good news: Angan-Angan is a finalist to the 2008 Cinemalaya Film Festival, sponsored by Dream Broadcasting, ABC 5, and the Cultural Center of the Philippines.)

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Thursday, April 24, 2008

Another Biking Story






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Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Finding your G-spot

Went to watch the SP session today. 

Was the picture-taker for the councilors of Lamitan, Basilan. They were impressed by the professionalism of Davao City Councilors Cabling, Dayanghirang, Lavina, Reta, Zozobrado, Lavina, et. al. They couldn’t stop talking about the strictness of Sarah and the wonderful Earth Day speech of Avila. 

But the highlight for me was when the pregnant Councilor Angging Librado-Trinidad condemned an article in a newbie newspaper as being too erotic or something. She used the word “censor”; I forgot her exact words. 

Aloud she read the article’s title: “Finding your G-spot.” Then in her speech, Angging expressed worry about the newspaper being circulated and people reading the article. 

In my mind: Oh c’mon, is she serious?! 

Girls are getting pregnant without reading “Finding your G-spot.” People who, moralists say, are not supposed to have sex – are having sex – and that’s not thanks to “Finding your G-spot.” 

So, you see, spending ten minutes talking about how dangerous “Finding your G-spot” is to the youth, comes over to me as quite funny – in an eye-ball-rolling way. 

Angging could’ve used that time talking, for instance, about how to help stop too many parents from having too many kids they can’t even send to school! 

But condemning “Finding your G-spot”? In this time of Playboy, FHM, Vogue that publish similar articles?! Give us a break puhlease!

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Cinderella On A Mountainbike

We left Santa Ana Wharf at 3pm, had an early dinner at a resort in Kaputian, took some pictures on the beach, then, as it was beginning to drizzle, we put on our lights and started pedaling into the approaching darkness. One hour later, as we reached PeƱaplata, the sky burst but we refused to be cowed by its anger. Afraid we would be left behind by the barge, we raced to Babak, the wind whipping us as we careened up and down the hills at breakneck speed. Feelings and thoughts enveloped me and I found myself crying with the rain. We had some accidents, too. But no details nalang. It's hard to put everything that happened that night in writing. Basta. Lamiiii kaayo. To feel so free and powerful! On the way home, my lights died out on me and with some trepidation, I arrived butt aching and hair all sticky just as the clock struck 12. No kidding. I felt like Cinderella on a mountainbike. End of Article.




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Sunday, March 2, 2008

Jaywalker defies cop

Two days ago, I got caught jaywalking in Claveria but because of sheer bravado (for lack of a better ‘sounding’ word), I was able to walk away with my police record untainted.

I could have avoided the confrontation with the cop because I saw him standing near City Triangle. He was looking at the pedestrians and standing there in an arrogant pose that said don’t-you-dare-cross-the-road-or-else! I remember thinking that if the cop weren’t there, I’d cross the road without a second thought. So why not just stop pretending to be a good citizen and just be my jaywalking self? That’s exactly what I did. I thought: Heck, if the cop reprimands me and makes a scene, I’ll just argue my way out of it. Everything’s in my favor anyway:

It is 12 p.m. and I haven’t had breakfast yet. If I use the pedestrian crossing, I’d have to walk back some 10 meters, wait ten minutes for the traffic lights to say ‘walk!’ and while waiting, get scorched by the sun and consumed by carbon monoxide. Besides, the cars are some 50 meters from where I am standing along the Roxas-Claveria intersection. They’re near Marco Polo still waiting for the traffic lights to turn green. Surely jaywalking under these circumstances is okay?

Hell no.

My blatant display of hardheadedness in the face of authority does not sit well with the traffic cop. He motions me to stop walking and approaches me saying in a much too loud voice that I should have used the pedestrian crossing. Everybody turns to watch my reaction. Instead of cringing in embarrassment, I reply in an equally loud voice: “But it’s too far! And besides, when I crossed, the cars were still far, far away over there!” (I point in the direction of Marco Polo.)

The cop acts as if he hasn’t heard me. Cop: “Jaywalking is a crime. You should have used the pedestrian crossing.” Me: “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” Cop continues ranting. I tell him again that I’m sorry but he continues ranting. He apparently wants to embarrass the wits out of me. I take a long hard look at his ugly face and turn around, calmly walking away but fuming inside at his lack of indiscretion.

Cop shouts after me: “You could get in prison for that!” Oh really now. I allow myself to be provoked and face him again. Me: “Just for jaywalking I can get put in prison? I don’t believe you!” Cop: “Yes, jaywalking gets you in prison.” Me: “I don’t believe you. I’ll research to see if what you’re saying is true.” I walk away again, the cop still ranting behind me. (Research! I can’t believe I said that!)

That was more or less how our exchange went. Hardly civil. Almost a shouting match. I’m glad I kept my cool because later a friend confirmed that community service or prison is indeed a punishment for jaywalking.

Maya the jaywalker. Why? Upbringing probably. It’s the result of living with a mother who defies authority and breaks red tape all the time – and gets away with it. She’d probably say, “It depends on your arguments. Not all rules are good rules and often there are exceptions to the rules!”

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River tubing with Yani

Bayani arrived two weeks ago from Laguna. We first went mountainbiking and then went tubing in Sibulan river.

Never heard of river tubing? The contraption is actually an inflated inner tubing of a truck’s wheel. It looks like a gigantic doughnut with flat rope webs converging in the middle of the hole. You have to sit in the tube with your legs hanging out and let the current drag you downstream. If you can’t swim or are unsure about navigating the tube on your own, then get a guide. If you’re big, get two guides. They’ll push and pull you all the way down the river – over rocks and boulders and tiny waterfalls. This wet roller coaster ride takes about three hours from start to finish. But if you’re not ready to try the uh, dangerous sections near the jump off point, you can always take a short cut and do the less dangerous sections. Rent a tube for 40 pesos. Pay your guide 200 pesos.

How to get there? If you’re coming from Davao City, ride all the way past Talomo and Toril. When you reach the San Miguel brewery, slow down the car a bit and watch out for a dirt road at the right side of the highway. Take that dirt road all the way to the river. You can’t miss it.

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