tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-168671532024-03-17T03:18:06.015-07:00Dennis VillegasReportage on people, places, events, and chismisDennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.comBlogger398125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-26677061819352060772013-05-17T17:16:00.000-07:002013-05-17T17:17:59.337-07:00Holying in Banahaw<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TAWmeBVNJpI/AAAAAAAAD_Q/lK7Md9Dm6DI/s1600/banahaw.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" height="288" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477967556449740434" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TAWmeBVNJpI/AAAAAAAAD_Q/lK7Md9Dm6DI/s400/banahaw.jpg" style="display: block; height: 287px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: 180%; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">A</span></span> young girl prays to the altar inside one of the mysterious caves in Mount Banahaw in Dolores, Quezon. To our amazement, strange circling lights suddenly appeared at the very head of the Virgin Mary. It lasted only for about a few seconds. I thought that it was an optical illusion, but my camera captured it. More on the mysteries of Mount Banahaw in my later posts.<br />
<br />Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-62401965496216618662012-01-24T04:37:00.000-08:002012-01-24T19:49:00.488-08:002012 Year of the Dragon Scenes at the Manila Chinatown<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ABavyF474Y8/Tx6o6qT_HWI/AAAAAAAAEpw/zNYv1DXVoqE/s400/IMG_5273.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701179904041622882" /><br /><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MHjOMUCpqyM/Tx6o64yaKRI/AAAAAAAAEp8/FkIdUWCFtxI/s400/IMG_5298.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701179907927320850" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7oCjoWo8E-g/Tx6o5gRIkAI/AAAAAAAAEpk/xkmfkWn7DLQ/s400/IMG_5285.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701179884165435394" /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U-sLQjOiYd0/Tx6o5r-JBBI/AAAAAAAAEpU/laaFLC9HMfk/s400/dragon1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701179887306998802" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 248px; " /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R95VAcr5OmU/Tx6o5Xk-OxI/AAAAAAAAEpM/9acyGDC9TaA/s400/IMG_5333.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701179881832725266" style="text-align: center; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px; " /><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8oQY7r4wc9w/Tx6pyc7s8CI/AAAAAAAAEqM/A1yHCRIxUgg/s1600/IMG_5307.jpg"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 224px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8oQY7r4wc9w/Tx6pyc7s8CI/AAAAAAAAEqM/A1yHCRIxUgg/s400/IMG_5307.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701180862522781730" /></a></div></div>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-33319672249916928602011-11-01T07:59:00.001-07:002015-01-30T17:52:17.901-08:00Mga Kaluluwang Ligaw<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YnANG7qnO8s/TrAPfsB_pnI/AAAAAAAAEjc/66BnLW63jiA/s1600/IMG_4786.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YnANG7qnO8s/TrAPfsB_pnI/AAAAAAAAEjc/66BnLW63jiA/s400/IMG_4786.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670048967929341554" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 292px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div>
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span">T</span></i></b>his is one of the old traditions among us Filipinos on the night of <i>Araw ng Mga Patay</i> (All Souls day): we light a few candles in front of our homes for the so-called "<i>mga kaluluwang ligaw</i>", roughly translated as "lost elementals" or souls of dead people who have not yet ascended to heaven.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
According to ancient Filipino belief, the<i> kaluluwang ligaw</i> still inhabit the Earth and make their presence felt by making mysterious manifestations like vague sounds, shadows, and strange lights which cannot come from natural sources. It is believed that their manifestations are part of their desire to still contact the world. The Tagalogs call them<i> multo</i> (ghosts). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This night I lighted a few candles and offered some food outside our door for the "<i>kaluluwang ligaw</i>", whoever they may be. It is also my one way of acknowledging their ethereal presence so that they need not manifest their presence to me If ever I needed to wake up at 2 in the morning to go the bathroom. </div>
Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-22140232519183301642011-10-01T11:40:00.000-07:002011-10-02T05:55:08.918-07:00Escolta After Dark<div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span">E</span></i></b>scolta, that old ephemeral street of Manila, has been one of my favorite hang-outs since I was a young Manila student in the early 1980s. Back then, I used to frequent this little boulevard to buy my long-playing discs in <i>Syvel's</i> (now closed), or to have my shoes cleaned by one of those ubiquitous shoeshine boys who lined the street sidewalks. Or perhaps just to hang-around in one of its old little <i>cafés. </i>I still visit the Escolta almost everyday, and every time, that wonderful and a little painful feeling of nostalgia is evoked in me. </div><div><br /></div><div>I took the following photographs while on a solitary late-night walk along the old Escolta. I took these pictures just as souvenirs or perhaps to just record the scenes I have seen at a given time. </div><div><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nAdW68EO39Q/Todf0Njt_OI/AAAAAAAAEhk/tQo1oD--HcE/s1600/IMG_3990.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 258px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nAdW68EO39Q/Todf0Njt_OI/AAAAAAAAEhk/tQo1oD--HcE/s400/IMG_3990.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596807411629282" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H__HElgw5ZM/Todf0JaL0_I/AAAAAAAAEhc/0Zx4XM0xfo4/s1600/IMG_3991.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H__HElgw5ZM/Todf0JaL0_I/AAAAAAAAEhc/0Zx4XM0xfo4/s400/IMG_3991.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596806297900018" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Evening newspapers. You can decide if they bear good news or bad.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QbJgKcRFjzs/Todfz19wAzI/AAAAAAAAEhU/E3Od3JKVfPk/s1600/IMG_4009.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QbJgKcRFjzs/Todfz19wAzI/AAAAAAAAEhU/E3Od3JKVfPk/s400/IMG_4009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596801078362930" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Plaza Moraga</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wgjyERYaUjQ/TodfzvN0ivI/AAAAAAAAEhM/KZLplfY8otA/s1600/IMG_4007.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wgjyERYaUjQ/TodfzvN0ivI/AAAAAAAAEhM/KZLplfY8otA/s400/IMG_4007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596799266720498" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Night students</div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBeSMo9umXo/TodfZqiPe1I/AAAAAAAAEhE/cytXxQU1Vrg/s1600/IMG_4010.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oBeSMo9umXo/TodfZqiPe1I/AAAAAAAAEhE/cytXxQU1Vrg/s400/IMG_4010.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596351333595986" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The old <i>La Estrella del Norte</i> building</div><div><br /></div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oRidQJLnbys/TodfZWMZCnI/AAAAAAAAEg8/3v9oj7hLTAQ/s1600/IMG_3992.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oRidQJLnbys/TodfZWMZCnI/AAAAAAAAEg8/3v9oj7hLTAQ/s400/IMG_3992.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596345873238642" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Antique money seller</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EApO3uIiH-g/TodfZOO1PSI/AAAAAAAAEg0/oZIu76Kk6UE/s1600/IMG_4014.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EApO3uIiH-g/TodfZOO1PSI/AAAAAAAAEg0/oZIu76Kk6UE/s400/IMG_4014.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596343735991586" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Pedestrians</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IjjkVxvshL0/TodfZGWqSUI/AAAAAAAAEgs/DIu4T53qPLQ/s1600/IMG_3995.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IjjkVxvshL0/TodfZGWqSUI/AAAAAAAAEgs/DIu4T53qPLQ/s400/IMG_3995.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596341621344578" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Gone was the <i>tranvia</i> but the <i>calesa</i> still plies the Escolta</div><div><br /></div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bRPydfrO3jg/TodfY91qIlI/AAAAAAAAEgk/25i63oS1Lj0/s1600/IMG_4001.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bRPydfrO3jg/TodfY91qIlI/AAAAAAAAEgk/25i63oS1Lj0/s400/IMG_4001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658596339335438930" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Posters and cables</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G3BggzxMJM4/Tode7J6S3_I/AAAAAAAAEgM/G7megcMiiJ4/s1600/IMG_4015.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G3BggzxMJM4/Tode7J6S3_I/AAAAAAAAEgM/G7megcMiiJ4/s400/IMG_4015.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658595827180036082" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Sidewalk-dwellers</div><div><br /></div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xLDjO5ZyI5k/Tode62SHUtI/AAAAAAAAEgE/VAxh8brkrpc/s1600/IMG_4005.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xLDjO5ZyI5k/Tode62SHUtI/AAAAAAAAEgE/VAxh8brkrpc/s400/IMG_4005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658595821911233234" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wYaeLxhihmQ/Tode60z0gVI/AAAAAAAAEf8/_ETIeruzNo0/s1600/IMG_4003.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wYaeLxhihmQ/Tode60z0gVI/AAAAAAAAEf8/_ETIeruzNo0/s400/IMG_4003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658595821515735378" /></a><br /></div>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-39216631345887820172011-09-11T14:48:00.003-07:002011-09-12T00:39:48.461-07:00Ilang Pang-hatinggabing Larawan sa Abenida Rizal<div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span">E</span></i></b>skinitang madidilim. Mga paskil sa pader. Mga kaluluwang puyat. Mga aninong hapo. Mga pulubing ginawang tahanan ang bangketa. Niyuping karton upang maging higaan. Mga basura ng nagdaang maghapon. Mga ilaw na patay-sindi. Iyan ay ilan lamang sa mga tagpong maaring matunghayan sa isang hatinggabing paglalakad sa Abenida Rizal. Mga larawang nakakapukaw ng damdamin. Ang ila'y nakapagpapahungkag sa ating kamalayan. Ang iba nama'y nagbibigay ng panibagong pananaw o dili kaya'y may hatid na mensahe na maaaring mapagnilay-nilay sa mga gabing pagod at puyat sapagkat bihirang matunghayan. Kaya't minsa'y ating inililihis ang tingin o dili kaya'y nagkukunwaring walang nakita upang kahit paano'y hindi maantig ang mga gulantang na damdamin.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YpLZdRiO6xg/Tm0x0HXn2WI/AAAAAAAAEf0/hsrRIZ2EhiI/s1600/2009_0329sample0010.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YpLZdRiO6xg/Tm0x0HXn2WI/AAAAAAAAEf0/hsrRIZ2EhiI/s400/2009_0329sample0010.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651227878820927842" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--C3MjnCPBUM/Tm0xGbEC2rI/AAAAAAAAEfs/Xe1xSuJ0eek/s1600/IMG_3856.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--C3MjnCPBUM/Tm0xGbEC2rI/AAAAAAAAEfs/Xe1xSuJ0eek/s400/IMG_3856.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651227093833538226" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HdiRx4jQE-4/Tm0xGMfkOMI/AAAAAAAAEfk/ogHejAsn_dA/s1600/2009_0329sample0021.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 238px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HdiRx4jQE-4/Tm0xGMfkOMI/AAAAAAAAEfk/ogHejAsn_dA/s400/2009_0329sample0021.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651227089922439362" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BG5CFRUoBlU/Tm0w5slIT8I/AAAAAAAAEfc/JL8rGNfYcWI/s1600/2009_0224sample0078.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BG5CFRUoBlU/Tm0w5slIT8I/AAAAAAAAEfc/JL8rGNfYcWI/s400/2009_0224sample0078.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651226875197411266" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rzIVUUfpHG0/Tm0w5DGb-mI/AAAAAAAAEfU/Bk6-SOGHdYE/s1600/IMG_3853.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rzIVUUfpHG0/Tm0w5DGb-mI/AAAAAAAAEfU/Bk6-SOGHdYE/s400/IMG_3853.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651226864062823010" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ieKX439Hb_o/Tm0w47LWe8I/AAAAAAAAEfM/LQKUgROgyYk/s1600/IMG_3851.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ieKX439Hb_o/Tm0w47LWe8I/AAAAAAAAEfM/LQKUgROgyYk/s400/IMG_3851.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651226861935950786" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vzd8KmG9ZsU/Tm0w41FUcEI/AAAAAAAAEfE/XuEIzITNXBg/s1600/IMG_3850.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vzd8KmG9ZsU/Tm0w41FUcEI/AAAAAAAAEfE/XuEIzITNXBg/s400/IMG_3850.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651226860300038210" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-woKr7QcbbNI/Tm0w4iue0oI/AAAAAAAAEe8/SVD7q0FwS1k/s1600/IMG_3852.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-woKr7QcbbNI/Tm0w4iue0oI/AAAAAAAAEe8/SVD7q0FwS1k/s400/IMG_3852.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651226855372411522" /></a>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-80057185669611259812011-08-29T17:50:00.000-07:002011-11-20T08:49:30.103-08:00Gulugod ni Dr. Jose Rizal<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tlT1y9Q8vnU/Tlw1AdGOKSI/AAAAAAAAEe0/k7g5XEMhNdU/s1600/IMG_3131.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 241px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tlT1y9Q8vnU/Tlw1AdGOKSI/AAAAAAAAEe0/k7g5XEMhNdU/s400/IMG_3131.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646446314742753570" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kKX832uRcvM/Tlw1AYHcvrI/AAAAAAAAEes/d4MmDplqns8/s1600/IMG_3130.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kKX832uRcvM/Tlw1AYHcvrI/AAAAAAAAEes/d4MmDplqns8/s400/IMG_3130.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646446313405726386" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><i>I</i></b></span>to ay isang buto sa gulugod (vertebrae) ng ating Pambansang Bayani na si Dr. Jose Rizal. Noong 1898, dalawang taon matapos na mailibing sa lumang sementeryo ng Paco si Rizal, ay hinukay ng kanyang mga kamag-anakan ang kanyang labi. Nilinis ang kalansay ni Rizal sa loob ng bahay ni Dona Narcisa Rizal (nakatatandang kapatid na babae ni Rizal). Nanatili ang kalansay ni Rizal sa kanilang bahay hanggang 1912, noong inilagay na ang kalansay sa ilalim ng monumento sa Luneta. Isang buto sa gulugod ni Rizal ang hindi isinama at ginawang subenir sapagkat ito ang bahaging tinamaan ng bala noong barilin si Rizal sa Bagumbayan. Hanggang ngayon ay makikita itong naka-exhibit sa Museo ng Fort Santiago.</div>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-13265427802121596772011-07-06T16:57:00.000-07:002011-07-19T17:34:46.793-07:00The Best of Siquijor, Philippines<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NWLX2wR2XPw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>A Video Tour of my 2010 Trip to Siquijor</div>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-36775534571649573752011-06-26T17:44:00.001-07:002014-12-07T14:45:54.552-08:00Jose Rizal: First Filipino Saint?<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ywag-_SDWbU/Tgu9plUBc0I/AAAAAAAAEeU/gRD23COdJdY/s1600/st.rizal.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ywag-_SDWbU/Tgu9plUBc0I/AAAAAAAAEeU/gRD23COdJdY/s400/st.rizal.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623797081790575426" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 295px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span">F</span></i></b>or the past few years, I have been studying some of the Rizalista sects in Mount Makiling, Mount Banahaw , and Mount Arayat . These Rizalistas worship Jose Rizal as God. They call Rizal in a variety of names: the Tagalog Christ, the Jove Rex Al, the Son of God, Amang Doktor, Amang Rizal, and so on.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">One time, while on discussion about Rizal’s various mystical powers, an old Rizalista told me that Rizal could also be considered the Filipino Buddha because he was the first Filipino to attain enlightenment. You could imagine my amusement thinking about Rizal sitting in Buddha-like position trying to achieve Nirvana!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">It is fascinating me because some years back, I was asked by a young smart-aleck student if Rizal could be considered for sainthood because he died a martyr’s death. I remember answering that Rizal will never be canonized by the Catholic Church since during his life, Rizal attacked the Catholic Church. But then again in more enlightened retrospect, I knew I made a mistake, because Rizal <i>never</i> attacked the Catholic Church itself, but rather the bad practices in it.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">Nevertheless, the thought of Jose Rizal becoming a saint was cool. I wanted to find out if there were some people in the past who may have lobbied for Rizal’s sainthood in the Catholic church. My research led me to some dusty shelves in the Filipiniana section of the National Library where I asked a bespectacled librarian if there was ever a book or a monograph about a move to beatify Jose Rizal.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span">The bewildered librarian looked at me as if I had just come from outer space, and perhaps considered me as one of those rabid Rizalistas who invade the library every now and then to research on the divinity of God Rizal. Then she told me that there was no such a thing. As consolation for my weird research, she handed me Rudy Astronomo’s <i>Kristong Kayumanggi </i>(Tagalog Christ), which of course, I already read many times before, the book being freely given in many Rizalista churches in Laguna.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ANzOAITpd5s/Tgu9pnuNxWI/AAAAAAAAEeM/c1vB9YlELR0/s1600/st.rizal1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ANzOAITpd5s/Tgu9pnuNxWI/AAAAAAAAEeM/c1vB9YlELR0/s400/st.rizal1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623797082437305698" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 298px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I went home and totally forgot about St. Jose Rizal. Then one evening, while browsing some old newspapers in my collection, I came across an old <i>Renacimiento</i> newspaper from 1903. It contained news of Jose Rizal canonization in the Philippine Independent Catholic Church (Spanish: Iglesia Filipina Indipendiente) or more widely known as the Aglipayan Church . Indeed, unknown to most of us, Jose Rizal was canonized as a saint on September 24, 1903 by the Aglipayan Church .</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
This canonization of Rizal was not, of course, recognized by the Roman Catholic Church, since the Aglipayan Church was a breakaway Catholic group. Nevertheless, this was the very first known act of any organized religion in the Philippines to venerate Rizal as a saint, making him as the first Filipino saint! Consequently, after Rizal’s canonization, hymns and prayers were composed in his honor, and his birth and death anniversaries became important feast days. Rizal’s pictures and statuettes were placed in the altars of Aglipayan churches.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
It is important to note, however, that at present, the Aglipayan Church has already ceased to recognize Rizal as saint. According to present Aglipayan Bishop Rev. Fr. Efraim Fajutagana, Rizal’s sainthood was revoked in the 1950s, since it was only done during the nationalistic phase of their church—that is, during the early years of their separation from the Catholic Church. So at present, the church no longer celebrates the feast days of Saint Jose Rizal, although they still recognize Rizal as the foremost Philippine hero.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
The question now is: in the light of Rizal’s unjust execution (like Joan de Arc who became St. Joan of Arc), if it’s now possible for the Roman Catholic Church to beatify Rizal and elevate him to the official roster of Catholic saints. Since the Catholic Church claimed that Rizal retracted his “errors in faith” shortly before his death, then it can be argued that it is already high time for the Catholic Church to retract its own condemnation of Rizal as enemy of the church. This would be complicated, as anti-retractionists would argue that Rizal did not retract because he had nothing to retract.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Nevertheless, immaterial to whether Rizal retracted or not, the issue is clear: Rizal was unjustly executed partly because of the role played by the Catholic Church. So the first thing the Catholic Church should consider is to issue a long-due apology for its role in the martyrdom of Rizal. As a Catholic and Rizalist, I feel that this is a just demand because our greatest hero was wrongly executed. For the record, Spain already issued an official apology for executing Rizal. Now, a Rizal monument similar to the one we have in the Luneta stands in a plaza in Madrid.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Rizal’s retraction would no longer be the issue here but the Church’s retraction. But I guess it would be very unlikely since the Church as an institution has not admitted errors, just as in the Middle Ages--during the Inquisition—it committed serious errors in executing so many innocent people, but has not issued any formal apologies on these dark years of Catholicism.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Hence, I believe that Jose Rizal joining the ranks of the Catholic saints would be a remote possibility at present. Nonetheless, for the Rizalistas, it does not matter: God Rizal always sounded better than St. Jose Rizal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</span><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLPFW41Eb9I/TgfSr-yLODI/AAAAAAAAEeE/ubbxVLMo-uQ/s1600/rst.rizal.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kLPFW41Eb9I/TgfSr-yLODI/AAAAAAAAEeE/ubbxVLMo-uQ/s400/rst.rizal.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622694312825010226" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 276px;" /></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span">*This article originally published <a href="http://www.thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/12658-sainthood-for-jose-rizal-.html">here</a> at the <a href="http://www.thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/12658-sainthood-for-jose-rizal-.html">Philippine Online Chronicles.</a></span></i></div>
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<o:p> </o:p></div>
</span>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-51050847279555533742011-06-19T17:02:00.000-07:002011-11-10T07:31:14.648-08:00The Story of the Rizal Monument<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kmTvydk-znY/Tf6Qv2pZ2bI/AAAAAAAAEd8/z8rc2tYq3eM/s1600/IMG_3195.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kmTvydk-znY/Tf6Qv2pZ2bI/AAAAAAAAEd8/z8rc2tYq3eM/s400/IMG_3195.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620088536802384306" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 19px; "><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span"><i>O</i></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span">f all the historical landmarks in the Philippines, the Rizal monument in Luneta easily stands out as the most recognizable and most photographed. It is thus an irony that very few Filipinos know the story behind the building of this important national memorial, and how, more than a century ago, some of the world’s leading sculptors participated in an international contest to design and build it.</span></span></p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "><span id="more-890" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "></span>Built by virtue of the United States Philippine Commission Act No. 243, dated September 28, 1901, the Rizal monument was approved by no less than United States President Theodore Roosevelt. The act stipulated the allocation of land in the Luneta to build the memorial, near where Rizal fell when he was executed by the Spaniards on December 30, 1896. It also specified that the monument bear the statue of Rizal, as well as serve as the final resting place of his remains. To fund the project, a Rizal committee was set up to raise funds from public solicitations. The committee—whose members included Paciano Rizal (Rizal’s brother), and Tagalog novelist Pascual Poblete–was also tasked to hold a design contest for the future monument.</p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">In 1905, when the committee gathered enough funds, it announced the art competition. Local and foreign sculptors were invited to participate, with the year 1907 as the deadline of submission. It was a reasonable period of time to conceptualize and design a scale model for the future Rizal national monument. The grand prize winner would be awarded a cash prize of P5,000, as well as the P100,000-contract to build the monument. It was a huge sum during that time and thus many sculptors, including some of the best in Europe, participated.</p><p style="text-align: left;font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">Forty artists submitted their bozetos (scale models) in 1907. From these forty, ten bozetos made it to the finals. Some of the bozetos were titled “Noli Me Tangere” (Rizal’s first novel), “Motto Stella” (Guiding Star), “1906”, “Al Martir de Bagumbayan”, “Eripitur Persona Manet Res”, “F.F”, “Victoria”, and “Maria Clara.” The bozetos were exhibited in the Marble Hall of the Ayuntamiento in Intramuros. The judges, all non-artists, were headed by then American Governor of the Philippines Frank Smith.</p><p style="text-align: center;font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "><a rel="attachment wp-att-892" href="http://myrizal150.com/2011/06/the-story-of-the-rizal-monument/bozetofinalists/" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; text-decoration: none; color: rgb(153, 153, 153); "><img class="size-medium wp-image-892" title="bozetofinalists" src="http://myrizal150.com/wp-content/uploads/bozetofinalists-560x602.jpg" alt="Bozeto finalists" width="535" height="575" style="margin-top: 0.25em; margin-right: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; margin-left: 0.25em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; max-width: 100%; height: auto; " /></a></p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "></p><p class="wp-caption-text" style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0.5em; margin-right: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "><i>Bozeto finalists</i></p>Extant photographs of the exhibit revealed the superior qualities of the finalists. Most were meticulously made in the Art Nouveau style that was very popular at that time. After thorough deliberation, the jury reached a decision. They awarded the P5,000-grand prize to bozeto No. 21 entitled “Al Martir de Bagumbayan” designed by the famous Italian sculptor Carlo Nicoli of Carrara, Italy. The jury gave the second prize to bozeto No. 9 entitled “Motto Stella” by the Swiss sculptor Richard Kissling. Kissling received a P2,000 cash prize.<p></p><div id="attachment_895" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: auto; padding-top: 0.5em; padding-right: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0.5em; padding-left: 0.5em; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: both; display: block; text-align: center; width: 413px; "><a rel="attachment wp-att-895" href="http://myrizal150.com/2011/06/the-story-of-the-rizal-monument/almartirdebagumbayan/" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; text-decoration: none; color: rgb(153, 153, 153); "><img class="size-full wp-image-895" title="almartirdebagumbayan" src="http://myrizal150.com/wp-content/uploads/almartirdebagumbayan.jpg" alt="Al Martir de Bagumbayan" width="403" height="600" style="margin-top: 0.25em; margin-right: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; margin-left: 0.25em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; max-width: 100%; height: auto; " /></a><p class="wp-caption-text" style="margin-top: 0.5em; margin-right: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "><i>Al Martir de Bagumbayan by Carlo Nicoli. Grand Prize Winner</i></p></div><div id="attachment_893" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: auto; padding-top: 0.5em; padding-right: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0.5em; padding-left: 0.5em; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: both; display: block; text-align: center; width: 403px; "><a rel="attachment wp-att-893" href="http://myrizal150.com/2011/06/the-story-of-the-rizal-monument/mottostella/" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; text-decoration: none; color: rgb(153, 153, 153); "><img class="size-full wp-image-893" title="mottostella" src="http://myrizal150.com/wp-content/uploads/mottostella.jpg" alt="Motto Stella by Richard Kissling" width="393" height="600" style="margin-top: 0.25em; margin-right: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; margin-left: 0.25em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; max-width: 100%; height: auto; " /></a><p class="wp-caption-text" style="margin-top: 0.5em; margin-right: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "><i>Motto Stella by Richard Kissling, Second-place Winner</i></p></div><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">As the first prize winner, Carlo Nicoli was supposed to have been awarded the contract to build the monument in the Luneta. However, for some reason the contract went instead to second-prize winner Richard Kissling, for his bozeto.</p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">Some speculated that Nicoli’s intricate design would cost so much more than the P100,000 budget to build the monument. Indeed, Nicoli’s bozeto required installations of intricate parts that were lacking in the Philippines and needed to be imported from Italy. Nicoli also specified that in order to construct the bozeto faithfully, Carara marble (the famed marble that was favored by Italian sculptors like Michaelangelo and Bernini), must be used. Of course, the contract stipulated that all materials would be from local sources.</p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">There was also a theory that Nicoli backed out of the contract because he failed to put up the P20,000-peso bond as guarantee to finish the monument. Or that Nicoli was not able to come to the signing of the contract. Whatever the case, Richard Kissling was eventually awarded the contract, and his “Motto Stella” bozeto was the one upon which construction was started in 1908.</p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">In comparison with Nicoli’s grand prize-winning bozeto, Kissling’s model was more streamlined, and almost lacks the grandeur that befits the greatest hero of the land. Indeed, when news of the change of model spread, some of the local press criticized Kissling’s model. A newspaper caricature poked fun at its design. Some unscrupulous people even put forward the ridiculous suggestion that the famous Filipino painter Felix Resurreccion Hidalgo should inspect and modify the design. In fairness to Hidalgo, he might not even have known of the suggestion and even if he did, would most likely have rejected the idea. Indeed the suggestion was quickly rejected by the jury. Meanwhile the work on the monument was already in progress in Switzerland. The figure of Rizal was cast in bronze while the obelisk and the base were sculpted from unpolished Gotthard granite.</p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">In retrospect, looking at the extant photographs of the two bozetos now, the change in the design was, in my opinion, highly propitious. Nicoli’s design was, of course, aesthetically speaking, more beautiful to look at. No one will ever doubt that it was designed by a master, as indeed Nicoli was. But it also looked very European with all its elaborate designs. It would have been perfect in a city such as Rome or Vienna. But in Manila’s Luneta—with its then grassy fields– it would have looked totally out of place.</p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">The strength of Kissling’s design—which was perhaps well appreciated by the jury who adjudged it second prize—was its stark simplicity. Rizal’s posture in the bozeto was subtle but heroic. The hero, attired in his usual overcoat and holding a book in his hand, was depicted as if looking towards the breaking of dawn after the long troubled night. The figures beside him are very strong symbols of a struggling nation’s hope for a better future through progress and education—a mother rearing her beloved child, and the evocative figures of two young Filipino boys ardently reading. Of all the entries, it was the only one that approached the embodiment of the very ideals of Rizal: family, education, and enlightenment.</p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">Every time I visit the Rizal monument, I always feel proud and fortunate to be a Filipino, having been born a free man because of Rizal’s martyrdom. Our forefathers—our beloved Rizal among them– were not so fortunate to see the light of dawn emerge from the darkness.</p><p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">On the sixteenth death anniversary of Dr. Jose Rizal on December 30, 1912, as the monument was nearing completion, the remains of the national hero was transferred through a solemn procession from the Ayuntamiento to the Rizal monument. A year later, on December 30, 1913, the monument was unveiled to the public.</p><div id="attachment_894" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Tahoma, Geneva, sans-serif; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: auto; padding-top: 0.5em; padding-right: 0.5em; padding-bottom: 0.5em; padding-left: 0.5em; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; clear: both; display: block; text-align: center; width: 389px; "><a rel="attachment wp-att-894" href="http://myrizal150.com/2011/06/the-story-of-the-rizal-monument/rizal002/" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; text-decoration: none; color: rgb(102, 102, 102); -webkit-transition-property: all; -webkit-transition-duration: 0.3s; -webkit-transition-timing-function: ease; -webkit-transition-delay: initial; "><img class="size-full wp-image-894" title="rizal002" src="http://myrizal150.com/wp-content/uploads/rizal002.jpg" alt="Rizal monument" width="379" height="600" style="margin-top: 0.25em; margin-right: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; margin-left: 0.25em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; border-top-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-bottom-style: none; border-left-style: none; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; max-width: 100%; height: auto; " /></a><p class="wp-caption-text" style="margin-top: 0.5em; margin-right: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; ">The Rizal Monument today </p><p class="wp-caption-text" style="margin-top: 0.5em; margin-right: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "><br /></p><p class="wp-caption-text" style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0.5em; margin-right: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0.5em; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-color: initial; font-size: 12px; font: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; "><i>This article originally appeared in the websites <a href="http://www.thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/12515-the-story-of-the-rizal-monument.html">Thepoc.net</a> and <a href="http://myrizal150.com/2011/06/the-story-of-the-rizal-monument/">MyRizal@150</a> website that you can visit <a href="http://myrizal150.com/2011/06/the-story-of-the-rizal-monument/">here</a>.</i></p></div></span>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-11811090387853095682011-06-14T16:36:00.000-07:002014-12-07T14:38:42.487-08:00Jose Rizal: Komikero<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nqbINfvC9YI/Tff48QeV1uI/AAAAAAAAEd0/ifQSNBAd93o/s1600/DSC_7072.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nqbINfvC9YI/Tff48QeV1uI/AAAAAAAAEd0/ifQSNBAd93o/s400/DSC_7072.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618232774266050274" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 262px;" /></a><i></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span">Jose Rizal (1861-1896)</span></i></span></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span">I</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">n 1884, Dr. Reinhold Rost, editor of Trubner’s Record, a magazine devoted to Eastern literature, asked Jose Rizal to contribute some Asian fables. Rizal was more than delighted to comply and he submitted “Two Eastern Fables." One of the fables was titled “Matsing at Pagong”, which Dr. Rost published in Trubner’s Record issue No. 245 in 1885.</span></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">To complement his article, Rizal created the “Matsing at Pagong” in comic form, using the back of Paz Pardo de Tavera’s notebook to draw the originals. The original drawings still exist to this day, owned by the descendants of Paz Pardo de Tavera. If you must know, Paz was the wife of Juan Luna, and Rizal used to “tambay” in Luna’s atelier in Paris.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><span id="more-620"></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">To my knowledge, this “Matsing at Pagong” comic strip was the very first known comic strip created by a Filipino—prompting the historian Ambeth Ocampo to regard Rizal as the Father of Philippine Comics.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">I recently browsed my library and pulled out a 1913 book called Lineage, Life and Labors of Jose Rizal, authored by the American historian Austin Craig. Considered the first English biography of the National Hero, the book is illustrated throughout with many drawings and sketches by Rizal. Towards the very end of the book is found the complete “Matsing at Pagong” comic strip as reprinted directly from the originals, and with the original letterings of Rizal.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">In this comic strip, Rizal did not use talk balloons for the dialogues of Matsing and Pagong. He instead wrote their “talks” below each of the panels, which was standard practice among comic artists during the 19th century. It seemed that the early cartoonists avoided talk balloons because they too often clutter in the panel and get in the way of the drawings. Although invented as early as 17th century, talk balloons came into general use only in the 20th century.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">Interestingly, very much later, Rizal adopted talk balloons in his “Mangkukulam” cartoon strip, although this remained unpublished during his lifetime. It was finally put out by the Jose Rizal Centennial Commission in the 2-volume Facsimiles delos Escritos de Rizal in 1961.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">Undoubtedly, Rizal was a genius. He was a poet, novelist, a humorist, songwriter, linguist, sculptor, inventor, an illustrator, and maybe more than a hundred more things that we even do not know of. He was a polymath, a curious man who was into trying everything. Inactivity and complacency bored him and he used his tremendous talent to satisfy his desire to understand the world he lived in.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">Drawing was a favorite past time of our national hero. He wanted to keep a visual record of the things he saw or the people he met. There were no portable cameras during the 19th century, so Rizal just drew scenes and views while standing on ships’ decks or while idly waiting for trains’ arrivals.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">One could only imagine how lonely our hero had been during his travels to Europe and America. To escape boredom and homesickness, he carried notebooks which he filled with drawings and sketches: a view of the Manila coastline as it receded from view, a picture of a funny man, Voltaire’s head, a Chinese man, or just about anything that caught his attention and piqued his interest. Rizal would spend days and nights drawing humorous panels we now called comics. Fortunately for us, many of these drawings still exist and can give us a view of what Rizal may have seen at a given time.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-osvejeR_ZxU/Tff1RnsfMKI/AAAAAAAAEdk/pu536IUyGNY/s400/rizal10.jpg" /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">In Germany, Rizal illustrated a hilarious panel in which he showed a gentleman curtsying to a lovely woman. While doing so, the gentleman accidentally emitted a fart resulting in chaos all around him!</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">While Rizal was staying with the Ullmer family in Wilhelmsfeld, he created a comic strip called “The Two Brothers,”which he gave Friedrich "Fritz" Ullmer as a gift. Fritz was the young son of his friend and host Pastor Ullmer. These comic strips, along with several other drawings and sketches done by Rizal during his stay with the Ullmers, are intact to this day. The Ullmer descendants kept these precious mementoes and were eventually discovered by Mrs. Paz Mendez (of the Jose Rizal National Centennial Commission), while she was traveling to Germany to retrace Rizal’s footsteps.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BlCpDG9zYMk/Tff0vqVEoUI/AAAAAAAAEdc/Uw4mwVj3pw8/s400/rizal8.jpg" /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">By a stroke of good fortune, the great-grandsons of Pastor Ullmer—Fritz and Hans Hack—generously donated the drawings to the Filipino people during their visit to the Philippines in March 1960 (upon invitation of the Philippine government), a year prior to Rizal’s centenary in 1961. These drawings are now part of the precious Rizaliana collection in the National Library.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">While living as an exile in Dapitan in 1892, Rizal was asked by his friend Benito Francia to write something about Visayan witchcraft. In compliance, Rizal wrote an excellent article entitled “Notes on Witchcraft in the Philippines,” and even created a four-paneled comic strip to accompany the article. When looking at the originals, I noticed some bluish tint on the drawings. Rizal may have used a blue pen to make his work more attractive—making it the first comics in thePhilippines with color (so what if it is only one color?).</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">Now, I am not sure if this comic strip is to be read horizontally or vertically, since Rizal did not provide a number guide on the panels. I believe though that the panels do not conform to a continuing story. They are more of vignettes that have relation to witchcraft.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">What is fascinating about this comic strip is that it was the only one written by Rizal in Tagalog. Rizal knew at least 22 languages, and he was fluent in some twelve of them, including, of course, Tagalog. Not only was Rizal the first Filipino to create a comic strip, he was also the very first one to create a Tagalog komiks!</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">I had the rare chance to examine many Rizal original drawings kept in the National Library. Seeing them close was such a thrilling experience that I when I went to sleep that night, I dreamed Rizal was drawing for Aliwan Komiks!</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">Meanwhile let us see what we can understand from these panels. Notes within parentheses are my translations as well as some of my own comments:</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qLcrjXQUOh0/Tffx6bUCc5I/AAAAAAAAEck/tJWrRZG6nR8/s400/rizal3.jpg" /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qaKFoA7LpHo/TffyxNyGpaI/AAAAAAAAEc0/JkEDMO54dqs/s400/rizal4.jpg" /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">FIRST PANEL: -Ay inang mamatay aco! (Oh, mother!, I’m dying!) -Huag po cayo matacot at aco man ay bata, ay isang bantog na hilot (Be not afraid, I maybe a child but I am a good healer)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KFSIzq_YTDs/TffzU3XFChI/AAAAAAAAEc8/cQlLrmOpa_A/s400/rizal5.jpg" /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">SECOND PANEL: -Itong cuto na ipinunla sa aquin toong malago ang pagdame (The lice planted on my hair are rapidly multiplying) -Tag-anas namang pirit(?) pati mga cuto mo a (Your lice are all like birds!)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T6XVBEQBsS8/Tff0FMKJrSI/AAAAAAAAEdM/JnU10JHPK3g/s400/rizal7.jpg" /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">THIRD PANEL: -Caeng, at cayo calvo!! (Caeng, you are bald!!) -Aa aa! Puga, puga ca! (the Tagalog word Puga means escape. The bald man may be saying to the boy to get lost for teasing him as bald!)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cuYGYpyllys/TffzinXt1eI/AAAAAAAAEdE/QJ4leY_JysM/s400/rizal6.jpg" /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">FOURTH PANEL: -Jesus! Aco’y nanglalata. Cung ano po ang naroroon sa loob, aswang yata (Jesus, I’m very weak. Whatever thing is that inside, maybe a vampire.)</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">In retrospect, Rizal’s drawings may be amateurish by today’s standards (although I found them cute). But one should remember that Rizal was not a professional illustrator. Also, he drew cartoons more as a hobby and distraction, in between doing several things of national importance such as writing his immortal novels and defending our country against the Spanish oppressors. The important thing was that he was the very first known Filipino to have drawn comic strips.</span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
These drawings, sketches and comic strips are all proof of Rizal’s universal talent, which led the popular historian Ambeth Ocampo to marvel: "No wonder Rizal is the Father of this or the father of that. Rizal was into everything”. Yes indeed, except that Rizal was not the father of Hitler.</div>
<div class="ultimatesbplugin_bottom" style="font-size: 12px; text-align: center;">
<img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5L2lWeFPU_Q/Tff0Y4t9OTI/AAAAAAAAEdU/k-dNyeEM3Zc/s400/rizal9.jpg" /></div>
<div class="ultimatesbplugin_bottom" style="font-size: 12px; text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="ultimatesbplugin_bottom" style="font-size: 12px; text-align: center;">
<i><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-568miIZYO78/Tff1iDNyVmI/AAAAAAAAEds/6KVdktIGch0/s400/rizal001.jpg" /></i></div>
<div class="ultimatesbplugin_bottom" style="font-size: 12px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span">Rizal's self-portrait circa early 1880s</span></i></span></i></div>
<div class="ultimatesbplugin_bottom" style="font-size: 12px; text-align: center;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; line-height: normal;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></i></span></i></div>
<div class="ultimatesbplugin_bottom" style="font-size: 12px; text-align: center;">
<i>**This article was originally published by the author Dennis Villegas in the website <a href="http://myrizal150.com/">MyRizal150.com</a>. Please visit our web tribute to our national Hero <a href="http://myrizal150.com/">here</a>.</i></div>
</span></div>
Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-87135790487780879452011-05-17T18:13:00.001-07:002011-12-31T05:03:57.376-08:00The Rizalistas of Rongot<div><i><br /></i></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gkOVKE5Z-CE/TdMgy_pHTRI/AAAAAAAAEa4/P-THSsDJJn4/s1600/DSCF4251.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gkOVKE5Z-CE/TdMgy_pHTRI/AAAAAAAAEa4/P-THSsDJJn4/s400/DSCF4251.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607862021455826194" /></a><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><b><i>T</i></b>he town of Calamba, in the province of Laguna--by virtue of having been the birthplace of Dr. Jose Rizal--has become a pilgrimage site not only for those wanting to pay homage to the Philippine National Hero, but more importantly for the Rizalistas who worship Rizal as God.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Calamba is said to be the new "promised land" where God Rizal shall establish His kingdom after the old world has been destroyed in the apocalypse. At the very center of this kingdom will be the barrio of Rongot, presently Calamba's poorest community, but which will eventually be the New Jerusalem.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">This is the belief of the religious sect called Iglesia Sagrada Familia, a small but intensely dedicated group of Rizalistas found in Sitio Rongot, Calamba, Laguna. Led by a vibrant old lady named Gloria Bibat, 84, the Iglesia Sagrada Familia worships Dr. Jose Rizal as God. They call Rizal not as Dr. Rizal but as <i>Amang Rizal</i> (Father Rizal) or simply<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>Amang Doctor</em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>(Father Doctor).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">I first met Nanay Gloria during the street parade of Rizalistas in Calamba on the occasion of Rizal's 149<sup>th</sup><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>birth anniversary last June 19, 2010. In her characteristic vim, Nanay Gloria was leading the procession amidst the hot mid-day sun along the streets of Calamba, the birthplace of the National Hero. She was holding aloft the Philippine flag and a banner imprinted with a picture of Rizal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">After the parade, Nanay Gloria and her members sought refuge in the shade in front of Rizal's house, and ate their packed lunch. Nanay Gloria invited me to partake of their food which consisted mainly of rice, small dried sardines, and steamed vegetables. I declined their kind offer, but Nanay Gloria insisted, giving me a plate and a plastic spoon.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>"Kumain ka na anak,"</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>she said to me. While we were eating, she told me that I should visit the <st1:place st="on">Holy Land</st1:place> someday. I found that the <st1:place st="on">Holy Land</st1:place> she was talking about was actually the barrio where her church is located, Sitio Rongot, only five kilometers from Calamba's town proper.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span>Secluded Sitio Rongot</strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Sitio Rongot is located in the remotest portion of Calamba, and is hardly accessible by vehicles. Isolated from the rest of Calamba by a narrow five-kilometer dirt road, only one vehicle can pass through it at a given time. In the unfortunate case when two vehicles meet head-on, one has to give way, retreat, and find the part of the road wide enough for both to pass through. The road is rough and dusty during the dry season, and wet and muddy during the rainy season. It is therefore understandable that even the local tricycles have to charge P150 to anyone coming in or out of the barrio. Most of the Rongot residents are poor, so they prefer to walk rather than pay the exorbitant amount.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">The sitio, however, receives a few visitors every Sunday, mostly students from the <st1:place st="on">Manila </st1:place>universities who are taking Rizal courses and are assigned to interview the Rizalistas. Aside from these students, very few tourists ever care to visit Rongot. In fact, there is really nothing much to see, save for the mystical <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Mount</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Makiling</st1:placename></st1:place> beyond the horizon, and the Laguna de Bay just at the edge of the barrio.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Despite its promise of becoming a <st1:place st="on">Holy Land</st1:place> someday, Rongot is at present an impoverished community. Most residents eke out a living by fishing, farming, raising ducks, or gathering<span class="apple-converted-space"></span><em>kangkong</em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>talbos ng kamote</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>from the marshes. In fact, Calamba townspeople sometimes call the Rongot people as "<em>magka-kangkong</em>" (people who gather<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>kangkong</em>)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Like most rural towns in the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Philippines</st1:place></st1:country-region>, Rongot exhibits an ambience of quietness and stillness. The only sounds one can hear are the soft winds from Laguna de Bay, the muffled noise of little children playing near the lake, and from time to time, the occasional barking of neighborhood dogs from a distance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">People go about their daily lives in a relaxed and unhurried manner: the men gathering vegetables from the marshes, women tending to their little babies, young lads playing board games on benches, and old folks relaxing under the shade of trees -- whiling time away. Around the village one can see numerous small wooden houses, old empty boats docked along the bay and, on the bay itself, green water lilies that grow abundantly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span>The Church of the Iglesia Sagrada Familia</strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">At the edge of the barrio, very close to the bay, lies the modest temple of the Iglesia Sagrada Familia — a small rectangular white edifice built on multiple concrete stilts, two of which go down into the lake so that part of the church "stands" on water. The Iglesia meets here every Sunday at seven in the morning. The church members are mostly women in their octogenarian years, led by Nanay Gloria Bibat. There are some young male members — all grandsons of Nanay Gloria. Nanay Gloria claims that the Iglesia has, at present, more than 100 members. But on the several Sundays that I went there to observe their group, I noticed no more than 20 in attendance.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">The interior of the church is simple in appearance. Save for a few wooden chairs reserved for visitors, there are no pews of the kind usually seen in Catholic churches. In fact, the Iglesia has no need for benches: all the members kneel throughout the worship rituals.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">The center of attention is the elevated altar in the shape of a triangle which displays a motley array</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "> of pictures, posters, and statues, all depicting Rizal or his other “personalities.” I learned that in the past, Rizal — according to Nanay Gloria — appeared to them as an old white-bearded man (whom they call Apo Asyong), and as an aged woman (whom they call Inang Adarna). But one should not be confused. They are all Dr. Jose Rizal!</span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Hanging on the walls of the church are numerous posters listing the many teachings of Amang Rizal. Some of them contain quotations from Rizal's great body of writings, the stanzas of Rizal's "Last Farewell", and curiously, a poster with Rizal's "Ten Commandments.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">At the start of their Sunday service, the congregation offers a prayer while genuflecting in front of the altar. Then with their right hand upon their bosoms, they sing the Philippine National Anthem in two versions: the original version and another with different lyrics praising Rizal and other Philippine heroes. A series of chants follows, led again by Nanay Gloria. Most of what they sing are about love of country and fellowmen, as well as love for Apo Asyong, Inang Adarna, and Amang Rizal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span>Meanwhile, I observe their rituals at the far end of the pew, jotting down notes and taking pictures. After an hour of prayers and chants, Nanay Gloria suddenly stands up, faces the group and begins a long monologue exhorting the members to keep the faith, to worship Amang Rizal, and never to be influenced by other religions. She calls her flock "<em>mga anak</em>" (my children) even though most of them are ladies of her age. "<em>Mga anak, huwag na huwag ninyong kalilimutan ang mga aral ko! Ang inyong mga pagtitiis ay nakikita ko</em>," (My children, do not ever forget my teachings! I see all your sufferings").<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">All the while, the Iglesia members are on their knees, listening attentively with their eyes closed. They all look as though they've been turned to stone by the mighty rhetoric of Nanay Gloria. Then all of a sudden, Nanay Gloria shifts her gaze to me, pointing her finger in my direction.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">She utters in a fierce tone: “Why are you here?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span>Surprised by Nanay Gloria's question, I meekly reply that I am interested in learning about the indigenous religions of the <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Philippines</st1:place></st1:country-region>. And being an admirer of Rizal, I am fascinated that their Iglesia worships Dr. Jose Rizal.</span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Nanay Gloria is visibly pleased by my answer. “What do you think of our group?” she asks. I say they are a very religious and nationalistic people because of their reverence of Philippine heroes like Rizal, Bonifacio, and Mabini.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“You are correct,” she says. She then approaches me and raises her right hand to bless me. She touches my head, telling me I am fortunate to have traveled to this remote barrio because it pleases Amang Rizal, and that I am now blessed. Then she turns to her flock once more and delivers another long and rambling speech -- somewhat disconnected but with only one important message -- that they should forever love God in their hearts, and to follow the 10 commandments. At one time she tells them they should be thankful I visited them, coming from a place as far away as <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Manila</st1:place></st1:city>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Nanay Gloria as Rizal's medium</span></strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">It is only after the sermon that I learn it was no longer Nanay Gloria who was talking. The Iglesia members revealed to me that the spirit of Amang Rizal possesses Nanay Gloria every time she delivers her sermons. It was not Nanay Gloria who touched my head and blessed me. It was Amang Rizal. I have been blessed by Amang Rizal himself. Indeed, after the sermon, Nanay Gloria appeared more like her usual self: gay, smiling, and humble. She no longer had the fierce voice and penetrating gaze of God the Father.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">After their rituals, they all stand up, bow to the altar and rest on the wooden chairs. They all smile at me, bowing, their hands on their chests as as sign of respect. Meanwhile I focus my attention on the numerous Rizal statuettes and photographs on the altar. At the center is the bust of an old man. For me, the figure doesn't resemble Dr. Rizal in any way, even if I mentally added years to my personal image of the hero. The old man has a shawl on his head and sports a long white beard. One cannot mistake his identity because written below the statue is his name: Apo Asyong. His full name, according to Nanay Gloria, is Senor Don Ignacio Coronado.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Fascinated, I ask Nanay Gloria who Apo Asyong is. She answers that Apo Asyong is God the Father. I complain to her I get confused over who God is: Rizal or Apo Asyong?. She taps my forehead as if to teach a young kid: “Don’t be confused!” she says. “Amang Rizal and Apo Asyong are one person! Sometimes Rizal appears as Apo Asyong, sometimes Apo Asyong appears as Amang Rizal. Amang Rizal is the Diyos Anak, Apo Asyong is the Diyos Ama! But they are one!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">And then I ask the inevitable question: “Then who is the Diyos Ina?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Nanay Gloria, now visibly exasperated by my ignorance, taps my forehead again: “Inang Adarna is the Diyos Ina!” She giggles through her revelation as though it were the most important thing she has ever said to anyone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Forgive me, my dear Nanay Gloria, I say. “So Inang Adarna is also Amang Rizal who is also Apo Asyong, am I right?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“Yes!” she said. “They are the Holy Family! Three persons in one God!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">I close my eyes to ponder on what she is saying. I realize that this is the reason they call themselves the Iglesia Sagrada Familia or The Church of the Holy Family, because in their belief, God consists of a family: God the Father, God the Mother and God the Son. The Most Holy Trinity.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“Have you seen Apo Asyong?” I ask Nanay Gloria.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“Yes. I lived in his house when I was still a young woman” she says proudly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">The story of Apo Asyong</span></strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span>Don Ignacio "Apo Asyong" Coronado, I later found in my research, lived in Sitio Aplaya, some three kilometers away from Calamba town proper (about seven kilometers from Rongot). Apo Asyong's house, though old and very dilapidated, continues to stand to this day, now inhabited by his numerous grandchildren and great grandchildren.The house also doubles as Apo Asyong's temple, where many Rizalistas still come to worship. In Sitio Aplaya, many old residents still remember Apo Asyong as a good and helpful man. Many also believed that he was a man with mysterious powers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Born on February 2, 1890 (?), Apo Asyong preached in the 1940s that he was the real Dr. Jose Rizal -- and that the man killed by the Spaniards in 1896 was a fake, a Rizal double. Apparently, many people believed him, and he was thus worshipped by followers (including Nanay Gloria and the entire Sagrada Famila sect) as the true living Jose Rizal. Interestingly, Nanay Gloria and Apo Asyong's grandsons never use the term "death" when referring to Apo Asyong's demise. Instead they prefer to call his death as "<em>paglisan</em>" (leaving), which of course denotes that he would be coming back in the near future. "Apo Asyong will never die, just as Amang Rizal did not die in Bagumbayan," she told me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Apo Asyong's core teachings are basically the same as those preached by Rizal -- love of God, love of fellowmen, and love of country. <st1:place st="on">Apo</st1:place> Asyong -- if we are to believe the testimonies of his followers -- has the power of teleportation and can be in several places at the same time. Like Rizal, he is also said to be a linguist -- fluent in all the major languages of the world, even though there is no record he had had formal studies in schools. When Apo Asyong and his followers would go to Calamba town proper, they would visit the old Rizal house (the reconstructed house, actually) and he would point out his bedroom, his sisters' bedrooms, as if he was indeed the young Rizal who lived there in the 1860s.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Apo Asyong suddenly fell ill in the morning of 21 December 1957, and died at midnight. His remains were interred at the public cemetery in Lecheria Hill, the place where Rizal was believed by Rizalistas to have spent his childhood and youth. His grandchildren still faithfully keep his old things -- his clothes, his pillow and bed (still arranged in the same way as when he died), his pipes (he smoked tobacco), and his old<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>tumba-tumba</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>chair. They regard him as God the Father.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">There is one extant photograph of Apo Asyong, and it is always prominently displayed in many Rizalista temples that worship the kindly old man.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">One rainy Sunday afternoon (after attending the worship rituals for Apo Asyong), Joseph, one of Apo Asyong's grandsons, asked me if I wanted to visit his<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>lolo</em>'s mausoleum in Lecheria. Although it was raining hard, I agreed to go to the cemetery to visit the tomb of this mysterious man. The grandson assured me it was still existing and that the family visited it annually every November 1. Because of the heavy rains, we slushed through mud, clambering atop old tombs to individually search the tombs and mausoleums, but alas, we couldn't locate Apo Asyong's final resting place. "It was just here," Joseph told me, pointing to an empty plot in the cemetery. "He already took his bodily remains to heaven," Joseph concluded.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Fascinated with this mysterious man, I asked Nanay Gloria how they first came to know Apo Asyong. In reply, Nanay Gloria told me a fantastic story of how Apo Asyong built their church. It was not easy. They lived a very difficult life. Many people accused them of being lunatics. But the people just didn’t know what Nanay Gloria and her group had gone through - their travails and hardships just to build this church. They persevered because they knew Amang Rizal/Apo Asyong would reward them in the near future.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span>The Beginnings of the Iglesia Sagrada Famila</strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span><span><span>It all began many years ago in a place not so far away….</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span new="New">There was a war; the Second World War. The exact date was October 1942. Mr. Danny Bibat, a U.S. Navy skipper, and the elder brother of Nanay Gloria, was a commander of an American vessel in the <st1:place st="on">Pacific Ocean</st1:place>. His vessel was torpedoed by a Japanese battleship. Fortunately, Danny and some of his men were able to jump out into the sea before the ship floundered. After a few days of floating, when Danny and his men were so exhausted they were ready to give up and sink in the water, something mystical happened. A low-lying cloud appeared before them. Perched on top of the cloud was a half-body figure of a mysterious bearded old man. The old man rescued them and pulled them all to shore. Soon after, the old man, without saying a word, vanished.</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">After the war, Danny retired from the Navy and lived a quiet life in Tatalon, <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">Quezon City</st1:place></st1:city>. In 1951, an old woman came knocking on his door, looking for him. After introducing himself, Danny was told by the woman that an old man wanted him to go to Sitio Aplaya in Calamba, Laguna.</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Without hesitating, Danny went with the old woman to Sitio Aplaya, Calamba, where he came face to face with an old man -- the same one who rescued him from the sea mishap during the war. But this time, the old man was no longer in the clouds. He no longer looked like a sacrosanct apparition, but a man of flesh and blood. And, to Danny’s amazement, he looked like Dr. Jose Rizal!</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">The old man showed Danny a picture of all the Philippine national heroes and asked Danny if he could identify the one that resembled the old man. Danny pointed to the photo of Dr. Jose Rizal. The old man affirmed he was indeed the patriot presumed executed in Bagumbayan many years ago. "I am not a ghost, Danny. I am real," he said.</span></em></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Danny prostrated himself before the old man, who was none other than Apo Asyong, crying: “My Lord, I have been looking for you for a long time! Why is it only now that you called me?”</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><st1:place st="on"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Apo</span></span></em></st1:place><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "> Asyong replied: “The time has come. I called you because you will now prepare the New Jerusalem in Sitio Rongot. You will pave the way to start the new <st1:place st="on">Holy Land</st1:place>. Bring your family and live there."</span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Danny thanked Apo Asyong and immediately went to all his relatives in San Nicolas, Pangasinan. He told them they were going to live in the new <st1:place st="on">Holy Land</st1:place> in Calamba, that it was a beautiful place, and that it will be the new paradise. Danny succeeded in convincing his family and relatives. Altogether, 13 families, including friends and their families, joined Danny in the exodus to Rongot. They sold their houses and farms in San Nicolas. Then they hired a truck and headed to the sitio. Everyone was excited and looked forward to settling in the Promised Land.</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">But they soon found out the journey would be no picnic. On a stop to San Luis, Pampanga, they were robbed and lost all their money and possessions. With no money to buy food, they remained for an indefinite time in San Luis, until six of the families, penniless and without food, decided to go back to Pangasinan, hitchhiking and walking (the truck abandoned them). Seven families decided to stick with Danny and continue their exodus to Sitio Rongot. Nanay Gloria was a young woman then, but she remembers the hardship they endured.</span></em></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span>“We neither have money nor food. But we thought it was God testing us to persevere. We knocked on every door begging for food, and very few people helped us. We only ate lugaw (porridge) everyday. We sold many of our personal belongings to buy food.”</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">After several months of walking and begging, they finally reached Sitio Rongot. What they saw devastated them. Sitio Rongot was not the paradise they thought it would be. Instead, it was total wilderness, with tall weeds growing about everywhere in the place.</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“We thought we could not live here,” remembers Nanay Gloria. “It was all weeds and tall grasses here. No one lived here then, except maybe snakes and field rats. But still we persevered. Apo Asyong told us that Sitio Rongot will become the New Jerusalem and the new <st1:place st="on">Holy land</st1:place>. So we decided to stay. We cleared the area and turned this place into our home. And look, this is now a community!”</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">They decided to build their church, the Iglesia Sagrada Familia, on the very banks of the Laguna de Bay. Most of the materials they used to build the church were either donated to them by the more affluent members of the Iglesia, or by local politicians asking for votes during elections. Even the posters, pictures, and statues of Amang Rizal were donated to them by various people. They really could not afford them.</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">"We are poor,” says Nanay Gloria, "but there are many people being used by God to help us and this church.” Meanwhile Amang Rizal was appearing to them frequently. Sometimes he is just like what is seen in his numerous pictures — wearing the double-breasted coat and carrying the Noli me Tangere in his left hand; other times as an old man or Amang Rizal appears; or even as Apo Asyong, or an old woman, Inang Adarna.</span></span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">To earn a living, they harvested kangkong and kamote and sold them in town, walking the five-kilometer road and carrying the crops on top of their heads. The men built small bancas so they can fish at the Laguna de Bay.</span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-color: white; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-attachment: scroll; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat repeat; "><em><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Soon, their living conditions improved, but not much. Nevertheless, they consider themselves blessed to have been chosen as the first residents of the <st1:place st="on">Holy Land</st1:place>.</span><o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; background-image: initial; background-attachment: initial; background-origin: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><b><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: normal; ">Nanay Gloria as the New Spiritual Leader</span></b></em><b><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span>In 1972, Danny Bibat passed away and Gloria Bibat became the head of the Iglesia Sagrada Familia. To prepare herself for her new role as spiritual leader, Nanay Gloria fasted for 40 days, subsisting daily on small bread and a cup of tea. It was what she termed as "sacrificio”, to cleanse her body for her new spiritual life.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">"I became very thin," she said. "But I survived because of God's will." She then assumed her role as the leader of the church. From then on, she was called Nanay Gloria (she was called Ate Gloria before).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Although she is now 84, Nanay Gloria still looks strong. She attributes her long life to the blessings of Apo Asyong. She never cuts her hair although it is now very thin because of her age. She still walks the five-kilometer distance road from Rongot to town proper. In her chest she keeps an<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>anting-anting</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>medallion which she says was given to her by Apo Asyong.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“This is the medallion of the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>Impinito Dios</em>," she says while showing it to me. “<em>Impinito Dios</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>is the highest God. He went down to Earth to save us. He became Jesus, Apo Asyong, Inang Adarna, and Amang Rizal”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“Do you all keep an<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>anting-anting</em>?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“Yes. Look at us; we are still strong despite our age.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">By now, though, many of the original members of the Iglesia have died from old age. There are now only about 20 original Iglesia members still living--all belonging to the original seven families who first came to Rongot. All the ladies are in their 80s and 90s now--widows who have outlived their husbands. Some, like Lola Aria, 87, are spinsters. They all wear long white dresses that reach their ankle. Like Nanay Gloria, they never cut their hair. Every one of them still diligently attends the Sunday worship service for Amang Rizal. Sometimes, they bring along their<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>apo</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to the worship rituals. They teach their grandchildren to worship Apo Asyong and Amang Rizal. Aside from these youngsters, there are no new recruits to the Iglesia.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“We don’t attract new members,” Nanay Gloria tells me “It is better we are few. We are few but we are true to our faith and that’s the most important thing. But if someone wants to become one of us, he or she is most welcome.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">While the Iglesia is not keen on recruiting new members, Sitio Rongot, meanwhile, is attracting new settlers. The sitio is a public land, and the growth of Calamba's population forced some locals to migrate to Rongot. With more people now living in Rongot, there are also more religious groups now preaching their respective religions such as the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>Iglesia ni Cristo</em>, the Baptists, the Mormons,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>Ang Dating Daan</em>, and the Born Again Christians.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Now, the Iglesia Sagrada Familia has become a minority religious group in Rongot. Sometimes people--even those from the new religious groups--malign and accuse them of practicing "cult" or<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>kulto</em><span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>worship.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“They call us<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>kulto,</em>” resents Nanay Gloria. “Don’t they know the meaning of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>kulto</em>? It means worshipping a human. But we do not worship a human. We only worship God. We worship Jesus. We worship Apo Asyong. We worship Amang Rizal. Amang Rizal is not a man.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>Ang Amang Rizal ay</em><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>Diyos na totoo.</em>"<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Many people also accuse Nanay Gloria and her group as lunatics. They simply ignore the insolent remarks, shrugs Nanay Gloria. "We always remember the lesson Apo Asyong imparted to us: '<em>Kung ika'y sinampal sa kanan ay ibigay mo pa ang kaliwa.</em>"(If someone slaps you on your right cheek, then turn the other cheek).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Indeed, throughout my frequent visits to them, I became an admirer of their simplicity, kindness, and humility. Their lives, basically unchanged since they first arrived here some 60 years ago, have been uninfluenced by the outside world. Their faith in God enabled them to reach the level of piousness that few of us can ever claim to achieve. Their kindness and hospitality are genuine--reflecting the old mores of the ancient Tagalogs. They may be superstitious and mystical in their beliefs, but I could never accept that they are lunatics or a<span class="apple-converted-space"></span><em>kulto</em>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "></span>During the street parade in Calamba on 19 June 2010 to celebrate the 149th birth anniversary of Dr. Rizal, Nanay Gloria and her members joined the parade--together with most other Rizalistas in Laguna. But none of them were invited to the grand dinner that afternoon organized by the provincial government.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">For me, it reflected the general attitude of people towards the true Rizalistas. While local and provincial politicians--who instantly became "Rizalistas" on the birth anniversary of Rizal to further their political careers--were served in the grandiose dinner, the genuine Rizalistas were on the side streets seeking shade from the heat of the afternoon sun--eating their own packed lunch or sandwiches and drinking softdrinks from a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>sari-sari </em>store.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">How come the Rizalistas are never ever given importance during the anniversaries of Rizal? Instead they are treated with indifference or mockery because of their obsessive love for the national hero. But in my heart of hearts, I feel compassion for them. The true Rizalistas--like Nanay Gloria and her group--are forever ignored by the Filipino people.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">I have often associated myself with the Rizalistas because I felt that they are true to their beliefs. Though I myself may find it bizarre that they worship the hero, I nevertheless respect their beliefs. And I find that they are closer to my heart than other worshippers, including those from my own Catholic religion. I always, ALWAYS want to understand them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">And so with some trepidation, I ask Nanay Gloria the question that really brought me to Rongot: ‘Why do you worship Amang Rizal?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“Because He is God,” she replies. "Amang Rizal is the Savior of the Filipino people. He saved us from the Spanish oppressors.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">"So where is Amang Rizal now?” I ask.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“He’s living somewhere in the forests and caves of <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">Mount</st1:placetype> <st1:placename st="on">Makiling</st1:placename></st1:place> . But he will come back soon. He will make this place--Sitio Rongot-- the center of his kingdom!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Meanwhile it is already getting late and I know that Nanay Gloria also needs to rest. I thank her for her kindness and hospitality. Then I take from my backpack my secret gift for her: A small statue of Amang Rizal I purchased from an antique shop many years ago. I thought it would be the best gift that I could give to the Suprema and her members.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">“Here,” I offer, “is my gift to you for your kindness to me,” handing to her the small bronze statue.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Nanay Gloria beams when she sees the little statue of Amang Rizal. Her eyes well with tears. Then she motions to her members to look at it, all women in their octogenarian years.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><br />“It’s beautiful!” they say in unison. Some of them also cry upon seeing the miniature figure of Amang Rizal. They caress the statue like a little baby. Then holding the statue together with their hands up in the air, the old ladies chant:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Amang Rizal! Amang Rizal! Amang Rizal! Aming Diyos! Aming Diyos! Aming Diyos! Ikaw ang simula at ang wakas, ika’y aming pinupuri!!! Amang Rizal!!”</span></em><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 7.5pt; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 7.5pt; margin-left: 0in; line-height: 13.5pt; "><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">I, too, am moved by the spectacle. Then I approach and hold the statue with them, chanting with them.</span></p></div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FXt5Zw7mTms/TdMfg9cpvKI/AAAAAAAAEao/RHavulBsshA/s1600/DSCF4251.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FXt5Zw7mTms/TdMfg9cpvKI/AAAAAAAAEao/RHavulBsshA/s400/DSCF4251.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860612117413026" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3KAwLN8VwzU/TdMfgnmeoxI/AAAAAAAAEag/Zv_NfZHcE3Q/s1600/DSCF4212.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3KAwLN8VwzU/TdMfgnmeoxI/AAAAAAAAEag/Zv_NfZHcE3Q/s400/DSCF4212.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860606253048594" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNvrbLchwEY/TdMfgKJmanI/AAAAAAAAEaY/iJRxsxPuSKs/s1600/DSCF4221.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNvrbLchwEY/TdMfgKJmanI/AAAAAAAAEaY/iJRxsxPuSKs/s400/DSCF4221.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860598347295346" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7RvYaVtpfw/TdMff7L_OMI/AAAAAAAAEaQ/PN6ihmqpawg/s1600/DSCF4196.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V7RvYaVtpfw/TdMff7L_OMI/AAAAAAAAEaQ/PN6ihmqpawg/s400/DSCF4196.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860594330777794" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dh_UsoPkvCo/TdMfJA3MuMI/AAAAAAAAEaI/hrOoLl0JZSM/s1600/DSCF4155.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dh_UsoPkvCo/TdMfJA3MuMI/AAAAAAAAEaI/hrOoLl0JZSM/s400/DSCF4155.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860200717203650" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVcOwoj7foQ/TdMfI9onrvI/AAAAAAAAEaA/-oy2xM4-Rds/s1600/DSCF3350.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVcOwoj7foQ/TdMfI9onrvI/AAAAAAAAEaA/-oy2xM4-Rds/s400/DSCF3350.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860199850749682" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AQThZjPQPrM/TdMfIwuKHAI/AAAAAAAAEZ4/C6sXNWLQvHc/s1600/DSCF3348.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AQThZjPQPrM/TdMfIwuKHAI/AAAAAAAAEZ4/C6sXNWLQvHc/s400/DSCF3348.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860196384316418" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fcvOKGRSe-M/TdMfIg6bweI/AAAAAAAAEZw/zBiG7FbySM8/s1600/DSCF3316.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fcvOKGRSe-M/TdMfIg6bweI/AAAAAAAAEZw/zBiG7FbySM8/s400/DSCF3316.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860192140837346" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QoNSMqUDkHk/TdMfITl2BMI/AAAAAAAAEZo/RKZFReVhah0/s1600/DSCF3312.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QoNSMqUDkHk/TdMfITl2BMI/AAAAAAAAEZo/RKZFReVhah0/s400/DSCF3312.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607860188564817090" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uqLpqbe2AiI/TdMe2xThFRI/AAAAAAAAEZg/yNolKuQCya8/s1600/DSCF3291.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uqLpqbe2AiI/TdMe2xThFRI/AAAAAAAAEZg/yNolKuQCya8/s400/DSCF3291.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859887303365906" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lWpyhde5Qao/TdMe2mJJLvI/AAAAAAAAEZY/gSz7eQi-nnM/s1600/DSCF3257.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lWpyhde5Qao/TdMe2mJJLvI/AAAAAAAAEZY/gSz7eQi-nnM/s400/DSCF3257.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859884307066610" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MMPyciJ34M0/TdMe2XAVJiI/AAAAAAAAEZQ/kY7wtAQePAY/s1600/DSCF3223.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MMPyciJ34M0/TdMe2XAVJiI/AAAAAAAAEZQ/kY7wtAQePAY/s400/DSCF3223.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859880243570210" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zviC8Xzlw5s/TdMe2E5Tq1I/AAAAAAAAEZI/bLdzZI1it_A/s1600/DSCF3214.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zviC8Xzlw5s/TdMe2E5Tq1I/AAAAAAAAEZI/bLdzZI1it_A/s400/DSCF3214.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859875382274898" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fFETjuZ7dcM/TdMe1yQ56_I/AAAAAAAAEZA/yoragwc9fQU/s1600/DSCF3194.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fFETjuZ7dcM/TdMe1yQ56_I/AAAAAAAAEZA/yoragwc9fQU/s400/DSCF3194.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859870380977138" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z2eqU1JZkzw/TdMejw1WcgI/AAAAAAAAEY4/FGBDH40JLo4/s1600/DSCF0283.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 252px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z2eqU1JZkzw/TdMejw1WcgI/AAAAAAAAEY4/FGBDH40JLo4/s400/DSCF0283.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859560759325186" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sNX1cTJZCq0/TdMeji9asKI/AAAAAAAAEYw/LQ9VBABULJM/s1600/DSCF0280.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sNX1cTJZCq0/TdMeji9asKI/AAAAAAAAEYw/LQ9VBABULJM/s400/DSCF0280.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859557035061410" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H0PD9q2_WFM/TdMejZ0x2-I/AAAAAAAAEYo/7l6VhDOnrIU/s1600/Copy%2Bof%2BIMG_2750.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H0PD9q2_WFM/TdMejZ0x2-I/AAAAAAAAEYo/7l6VhDOnrIU/s400/Copy%2Bof%2BIMG_2750.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859554582911970" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMLqxo7Cb5Y/TdMejFsFFwI/AAAAAAAAEYg/ee-WvReIYes/s1600/Copy%2Bof%2BIMG_2744.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMLqxo7Cb5Y/TdMejFsFFwI/AAAAAAAAEYg/ee-WvReIYes/s400/Copy%2Bof%2BIMG_2744.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859549177714434" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XfUM79GFKZk/TdMei-WkNnI/AAAAAAAAEYY/fC4lQZ1IaVo/s1600/Copy%2Bof%2BIMG_2726.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XfUM79GFKZk/TdMei-WkNnI/AAAAAAAAEYY/fC4lQZ1IaVo/s400/Copy%2Bof%2BIMG_2726.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607859547208431218" /></a> <p style="margin-top:7.5pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:13.5pt"><span style="color:#333333"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="margin-top:7.5pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:13.5pt"><span style="color:#333333"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p style="margin-top:7.5pt;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:7.5pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:13.5pt"><span style="color:#333333"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-17465329830797178462011-04-26T17:58:00.002-07:002015-01-30T18:04:42.106-08:00Good Morning, Pan de sal!<div>
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span">O</span></i></b>ne early morning in Palo, Leyte, last week, my friend Sidney Snoeck and I went to look out for a <i>Pan de Sal</i>, that famous Pinoy bread that we Filipinos have used to eat for breakfast. We were complete strangers in this strange land and we had no one to guide us in town. But I tell you, it was the very first time I saw a tall Belgian look for a <i>pan de sal</i> so early in the morning in a remote village in Leyte! We could not find a bakery anywhere near.</div>
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
By a stroke of good chance, we found a man on the road holding a small plastic bag of <i>pan de sal</i>. So Sidney--who neither speak Tagalog nor Visayan-- approached the stranger and said "Good Morning!", and then intrepidly in English where he bought his <i>pan de sal</i>.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The stranger replied "Good Morning!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sidney, realizing that the man must have misunderstood him, asked again--this time pointing to the bag of <i>pan de sal--</i> "Your <i>pan de sal</i>...where did you buy it?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The man again replied: "Good Morning!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Exasperated because of the communication gap, Sidney turned to me and said "He doesn't understand me! Dennis, can you ask him where he bought the <i>pan de sal</i>?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I asked the poor guy in Visayan: <i>"Haen nimo pila ang imo nga pan de sal?"</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
"Good Morning!", said the man again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sidney rolled his eyes, and shrugged his shoulders... but now I get the idea.The man indeed, actually bought his <i>pan de sal</i> in....Good Morning Bakery, just a few meters from where Sidney and I were standing.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H1e3NMLLQK0/Tbdv3EXQwRI/AAAAAAAAEYQ/mJmyRiv7C58/s1600/goodmorning.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H1e3NMLLQK0/Tbdv3EXQwRI/AAAAAAAAEYQ/mJmyRiv7C58/s400/goodmorning.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600067653513298194" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 201px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nF_EeoZJydY/Tbdv2_hvN7I/AAAAAAAAEYI/FJCt-5BhsZk/s1600/goodmorning1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nF_EeoZJydY/Tbdv2_hvN7I/AAAAAAAAEYI/FJCt-5BhsZk/s400/goodmorning1.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600067652215060402" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 225px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-24220038160169705202011-04-02T08:29:00.000-07:002011-04-07T06:19:31.968-07:00Billboard<div>I was driving sleepily along heavy-traffic in EDSA when I saw this billboard...click the picture to see the bigger version.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sbtT38RNIEM/TZdBAR6wq7I/AAAAAAAAEXo/HT024N4KI4k/s1600/jinkee.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sbtT38RNIEM/TZdBAR6wq7I/AAAAAAAAEXo/HT024N4KI4k/s400/jinkee.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591008935469427634" /></a>I don't know if this was intended to be a joke or something so EDSA drivers don't get to sleep behind the wheels. Photoshop or surgery?Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-15070449064069136582011-03-13T09:17:00.000-07:002011-03-13T10:11:06.445-07:00Manila in Miniature 1<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe title="YouTube video player" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0LWSMujZehM" width="640" frameborder="0" height="390"></iframe><br /></div><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">T</span></span>his film clip you are currently watching is a "miniature effect" video of Carriedo pedestrian market and Plaza Lacson in the downtown Quiapo/Sta.Cruz area. This "miniature effect" is achieved by using my Canon Powershot s95's fake tilt-shift or miniature effect feature. I find it fascinating to look at Manila in this unique tiny "dream-like" perspective.<br /><br />Please watch out for more of these miniature videos in my Youtube channel soon. Thanks!Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-60773457028871865942011-02-13T17:55:00.001-08:002011-02-23T00:26:28.270-08:00Philippine Love Motels<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/S3ankoYWDAI/AAAAAAAADYg/uDKIYRRY760/s1600-h/motels3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/S3ankoYWDAI/AAAAAAAADYg/uDKIYRRY760/s400/motels3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437717847853108226" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">C</span></span>heap motels abound in Metro Manila, and they are thriving in popularity. I remember once entering one of those cheap motels in downtown Manila on the night of the Quiapo Fiesta in 2009. Virtually exhausted after following the procession of the <span style="font-style: italic;">Senyor Nazareno</span> from morning through evening, I decided to try my luck and "check-in" for the night in one of the small-time motels in downtown.<br /><br />This motel was located in the second floor of a decrepit old building along Quezon Boulevard. From the sidewalk, a double swinging doors opened to a flight of stairs, on top of which was a small receiving area. A thin middle-aged Chinese man in a white <span style="font-style: italic;">sando </span>was in the counter, and behind him was a collection of keys with room numbers printed on them. In a smattering of Tagalog, he asked me if I was going to stay “short time or overnight.” For the uninitiated, “short time” means one to three hours of stay. I answered "overnight". He told me the cost would be P200. I paid in cash and was ushered into my room by a teenage boy who also gave me a towel and a small piece of soap. <p>Entering this motel was a decision I would later regret with much shame. The room was grimy, and the bathroom stank. Scribbled on the walls were phone numbers of people offering sex. "Just call this number," one said, "and I’ll be knocking on your door in a few minutes." Here and there were scribbled lewd drawings of sex organs and sexual positions. During the night, I had difficulty getting to sleep. I could hear passionate moans from the adjoining rooms, and even some banging on the walls. I hurriedly dressed and took a taxi back home. I never entered a cheap motel since then.</p> <p>Some of you may think that entering the motel all alone is very unusual, since a motel, in the Philippine context, is a place where people usually spend very private moments with the opposite sex. To say it bluntly, it meant satisfying one's earthly urges. Indeed, by checking in, I risked censure of my friends and colleagues if they found out. Yet I have always maintained that there are no sinful places, only sinful people. Motels cannot be sinners, in the same way that a prison cannot become a criminal.</p> <p style="font-style: italic;"><strong>Postwar travelers' lodgings</strong></p>The very first Philippine motels(short for "motor hotel"), however, were not originally designed as places to have illicit sexual affairs. The first motels in the Philippines sprang up to meet the postwar shortage of lodgings for travelers. Immediately after the Second World War, ruined Manila had no hotels but a lot of lodgers, especially the American soldiers who traveled regularly from their camps to different destinations.<br /><br />To cope with the demand for lodgings, the first rooming houses were established in downtown Manila in 1945. Then, in 1946, the first authentic motel was established in Apelo St., in Pasay. This motel was a six-garage bungalow with air-conditioned units that came complete with toilets and bathrooms and hot and cold showers. The motel also served food for the G.I.s weary after a long journey from their camps. At P30 a day, the motel's rooms were cheap and always filled to capacity. Of course no G.I.s short of cash would have thought of staying in expensive Manila Hotel with only a few bucks in their pockets! <p>Then in the 1950s regular hotels began to be built in Manila. Offering better conveniences and services, these hotels were considered classier than motels. By this time, most of the G.I.s had already returned to the United States, and thus in the 1950s and 1960s, motels became superfluous. No longer were they as popular as before and their usefulness in the city had dwindled. The changing culture in Manila, however, saved the motels from oblivion. In the early 1950s, night clubs and bars began to be built in Manila, and many motels began offering cheap "short-time" rates, which were for one- to three-hour stays--to male clients who found instant sexual partners from the red light establishments.<br /></p><p>Back then, it was considered highly improper if a man was seen entering a motel with a female companion. Thus, many couples entered motels a few minutes apart. Patrons also didn't want their identities known -- men pretended to read newspapers while entering motels and women wore dark shades and used <em>abanicos</em> to hide their faces from public view.</p> <p style="font-style: italic;"><strong>'Tira-han ng mag-syota'</strong></p> <p>The transformation of motels from simple lodging houses to private venues to conduct illicit sexual affairs became complete in the 1960s. A popular joke back then was a question of the difference between a hotel and a motel. The answer was "<em>Ang </em>hotel<em> ay tirahan ng mag-asawa, samantalang ang </em>motel<em> ay tira-han ng mag-syota </em>(Hotels are where married couples live, while motels are where boyfriends and girlfriends stay)."</p> <p>The so-called "love hotels" were considered anathema by women civic groups in the 1960s. In particular, the Catholic Women’s League of Manila (CWL) filed a petition to then- Manila Mayor Antonio Villegas to close the motels because, they argued, the motels were increasingly becoming venues for illicit sexual affairs <em>(Mayor Antonio Villegas was the author's late grandfather</em>). The motel owners, primarily thought to be rich Chinese businessmen, fought back. They argued that closing the motels fringe on their right to operate legal business. There were no laws banning motels and especially banning people from entering motels!<br /></p> <p>Pressured from both sides (CWL and motel owners), Mayor Villegas reached a compromise. Although he did not order the closure of the motels, he nevertheless levied heavy taxes on the motel operators. In short, while he gave the motels a new lease for life, he made their existence difficult. Then at about this time came one of the most serious blows to the image of the motel: the rape in a motel of Antonieta Cabahug by Cesar Guy, a Chinese lumber magnate. It was perhaps one of the most sensational crimes of the decade, and Cabahug died as a result of the rape. Eventually Guy was sentenced to life imprisonment (he has since been released and is now a Christian preacher). From this time on, however, motels became associated not only with illicit affairs but with crimes, too.</p> <p style="font-style: italic;"><strong>Removing the tarnish</strong></p> <p>It was only in the late 1970s and the 1980s when motels began a serious effort to rebuild their tarnished image. Some of the high-end motels even began changing their names into vogue-sounding names like "Ritz and Waldorf," "Bermuda," "Victoria Court," "Town and Country" and "Capri". They also remodeled their interiors to provide a hotel-like ambiance -- spacious and wholesome lobbies, and themed rooms, offering patrons choices of Disneyland-painted rooms or, for the more adventurous lovers, jungle-themed suites . Some of the high-end rooms also offered private jacuzzi, water beds, and sound-proof walls, all of which, of course, cater to the more affluent clients.<br /></p> <p>At present, love motels in Metro Manila are as ubiquitous as the shopping malls -- you can find them everywhere. In the university belt alone, one could count more love hotels than there are universities, so the area could also have been termed the "Motel Belt" with none the wiser. In Quiapo’s Quezon Boulevard stretch for instance, I recently counted a dozen motels, not including the numerous cheaper, more dubious, no-signage motels that operate like boarding houses, located in the smaller inside streets.</p> <p>The cheapest of motels sometimes masquerade as lodgings for travelers, although very few transients actually go there to slumber. Unlike motels in the past that were located in high-walled compounds for the utmost privacy, love motels nowadays operate more openly in large modern buildings that have been designed to have entrances and exits that lead to shopping malls, MRT train stations, and even call centers.<br /></p> <strong style="font-style: italic;">A 'romantic' atmosphere</strong> <p>The inside of motel rooms tells something conspicuous about their very nature. One notices the absence of windows and the presence of dim lights. Some motel rooms even provide a swing hanging from the ceiling, in the middle of the bed. Some rooms are provided with cable television. What can be shocking to the uninitiated, though, is that these cable subscriptions include channels showing pornographic movies. Also, inside bedside bureau drawers one can find condoms in different fruit flavors.</p> <p>Motel managers are very strict in following the concept of “short time”. Fifteen minutes before the “short time” lapses, occupants will be reminded that they need to get ready to vacate the room as the next customers are already waiting to occupy it. Such is the popularity of motels that there are not enough rooms for their numerous clients, and as such numerous love seats are provided in the lobbies for the lovers waiting for their turns.<br /></p> <p>These conditions suggest the nature of the relationships of people lodging in motels -- many times, they are after sex without the benefit of marriage. Since married couples usually have sexual intercourse at home, couples staying “short-time” in motels are generally thought to be engaging in: (1) Pre-marital sex (sex before matrimony) (2) Adultery/concubinage (i.e., a married woman having sex with a man not her husband, vice versa), and (3) Prostitution (sex trade).</p> <p>Of the three, the last is the most flagrant and the most obvious. Prostitution, as the saying goes, is the world’s oldest profession. But in Metro Manila and in other big cities for that matter, prostitution has also become a thriving industry. One could count Manila, Cubao, Monumento, Pasay, Pasig, Quezon Avenue, as the places with the highest concentration of motels in the metro because of the thriving sex trade in these places. In all these places, prostitution is a 24-hour business. One only needs to walk at anytime of the day in certain streets and furtive offers will be made in exchange for money.</p> <p>We are thus drawn to answer a very crucial question. Could the proliferation of motels in our midst be an indication of the moral degeneration of Filipinos? Or are Filipinos just beginning to experience a modern sexual revolution already experienced in Japan, the United States, Sweden, and many other countries?</p> Indeed, one cannot escape the conclusion that although many people consider motels as sinful places of fornication, illicit sex, and prostitution, their popularity reflects the general attitude of the Filipinos towards motels in particular and sex in general. Manilans in general are loathed to be seen entering motels. Nonetheless, the very popularity of these establishments only indicate that motels are a product of our culture-- and not the other way around.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qU8ZFatduKc/TVi5Bxl50WI/AAAAAAAAEV8/LO2hGHMu3K8/s1600/motels1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 279px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qU8ZFatduKc/TVi5Bxl50WI/AAAAAAAAEV8/LO2hGHMu3K8/s400/motels1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573407979014312290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-epDAwxX9Jx8/TVi5M94pEmI/AAAAAAAAEXE/fHvQQRfZti4/s1600/motels10.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-epDAwxX9Jx8/TVi5M94pEmI/AAAAAAAAEXE/fHvQQRfZti4/s400/motels10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573408171292693090" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PlWoA6QA-Eo/TVi5M1bIzRI/AAAAAAAAEW8/8Xis07ae5Zw/s1600/motels9.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PlWoA6QA-Eo/TVi5M1bIzRI/AAAAAAAAEW8/8Xis07ae5Zw/s400/motels9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573408169021459730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-huSd8E-oHeE/TVi5Mru9VXI/AAAAAAAAEW0/nlruzx9oTpY/s1600/motels8.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-huSd8E-oHeE/TVi5Mru9VXI/AAAAAAAAEW0/nlruzx9oTpY/s400/motels8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573408166420239730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-muc0hgBX1bo/TVi5MtuDXiI/AAAAAAAAEWs/dCU259cugPk/s1600/motels7.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-muc0hgBX1bo/TVi5MtuDXiI/AAAAAAAAEWs/dCU259cugPk/s400/motels7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573408166953311778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d3EVqkQmiD4/TVi5Mdrot6I/AAAAAAAAEWk/vn5PxyYE5y8/s1600/motels6.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d3EVqkQmiD4/TVi5Mdrot6I/AAAAAAAAEWk/vn5PxyYE5y8/s400/motels6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573408162648209314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jea-_5o-Z-k/TVi5DMNkHaI/AAAAAAAAEWc/0ZK_LsRxyMQ/s1600/motels5.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jea-_5o-Z-k/TVi5DMNkHaI/AAAAAAAAEWc/0ZK_LsRxyMQ/s400/motels5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573408003339853218" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ndn7cJ8etFQ/TVi5CsBHmuI/AAAAAAAAEWU/cnQADPgrKjI/s1600/motels4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ndn7cJ8etFQ/TVi5CsBHmuI/AAAAAAAAEWU/cnQADPgrKjI/s400/motels4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573407994697718498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qKkgxDAN9cI/TVi5CIOMCAI/AAAAAAAAEWE/4fs6lpOwjvg/s1600/motels2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qKkgxDAN9cI/TVi5CIOMCAI/AAAAAAAAEWE/4fs6lpOwjvg/s400/motels2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5573407985088858114" border="0" /></a>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-56810189454080422622011-02-08T17:20:00.001-08:002011-02-10T15:11:02.105-08:00The Lost Children of Ulingan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm6ED8JdI/AAAAAAAAEVU/wT-HZkL-mMo/s1600/ulingan20.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm6ED8JdI/AAAAAAAAEVU/wT-HZkL-mMo/s400/ulingan20.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571699205463614930" border="0" /></a><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapelayout ext="edit"> <o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"> </o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">I</span></span>n one of the makeshift tent houses in Ulingan, a charred wooden statue of Jesus Christ stood in a grimy corner—the Lord’s hands and arms are amputated as if to deprive the Savior from offering any comfort and hope. The statue was one of the scrap woods gathered by a scavenger in the dump site, and destined to the fires of Ulingan to become good charcoal. But the scavenger thought better of it and left it in his house. Thus was Jesus saved from the furnace.<br /><p class="MsoNormal">Hope and comfort are probably scarce among the people of Ulingan but they are not entirely missing. There are many people in Ulingan—most especially the children—who find comfort and hope among the little things they find in the dumpsite or in the charcoal furnace.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">A little girl named Jessa collects charred nails from the burnt woods in Ulingan. These blackened nails meant little to most of us, but to Jessa these little nails could save her and her family from the pangs of hunger. The nails sell at eight pesos a kilo—enough to buy a loaf of bread and alleviate their hunger.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKoXa3u34I/AAAAAAAAEVs/L1XqWhbSmFs/s1600/ulingan25.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKoXa3u34I/AAAAAAAAEVs/L1XqWhbSmFs/s400/ulingan25.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571700809314262914" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jessa is one of the child workers in Ulingan. The eldest among a brood of five, she is counted upon by her family to help alleviate the meager income. Her father and mother both work in the dump site and the charcoal furnace, or wherever they can find work to earn a little. Sometimes her mother goes to the market to ask for junked vegetables. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jessa’s family came from the island of Leyte. They escaped the rural poverty and insurgency warfare from their remote village in order to find better living conditions in Tondo, Manila. As it happened, their living condition did not get any better in Tondo. It was not the paradise they envisioned it to be. Nevertheless, here they can live in peace, and can survive poverty, what with all the garbage that they can find and sell, and all the woods that they can burn—even if these pose a significant hazard to their health. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Like many children in Ulingan, Jessa and her siblings never went to school, even though there is a free school near Ulingan. Jessa’s family decided that school and poverty do not mix. Also at eleven years of age, Jessa is deemed too old to study. <span style=""> </span>Now, instead of listening to a teacher’s lecture, Jessa is laboriously scouring the charcoal pits with her small magnet to attract the little nails that may lie within the charcoal debris. She then puts the nails inside her grimy sack.</p><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKoXSWGcQI/AAAAAAAAEV0/rl9geIkTrQY/s1600/ulingan24.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKoXSWGcQI/AAAAAAAAEV0/rl9geIkTrQY/s400/ulingan24.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571700807025717506" border="0" /></a><br />In another area of Ulingan, I see a little girl of eight with a withered doll she picked up in the dump site. The doll—a plastic Bisque imitation-- was naked and grimy, one-eyed and one-armed. Nevertheless, it is still a doll and the deprived girl is hugging it tightly. It may be the only toy that she has ever had and one can see in her eyes the happiness the doll gives to her.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm55nASJI/AAAAAAAAEVE/Fq4G8YOmI6k/s1600/ulingan18.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm55nASJI/AAAAAAAAEVE/Fq4G8YOmI6k/s400/ulingan18.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571699202657896594" border="0" /></a><br />To the scavenger children of Ulingan and Pier 18 (the nearby dump site), a discarded doll, a junked toy, even if already damaged and grimy--are perhaps some of the most treasured finds in the garbage site. These toys—though they may have once made a home in the upscale villages of Manila-- could still find a home in the heart of a slum child. <p class="MsoNormal">Older children, however, no longer need toys. Aged twelve to fourteen, these children have other more important things to find in the dump site than old discarded toys. A plastic bottle, a scrap metal, an electrical wiring, can all be converted to cash at the nearby junkshops. In Ulingan, the boys can work as coal packers or stevedores, earning a few pesos that could be able to buy food for the hungry stomach. The girls meanwhile have to assist their mothers in packing charcoals.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jason Narido, twelve years old, is one of the older child laborers in Ulingan. Orphaned at a young age, Jason lives a vagabond life, packing coals at day, and wandering by night looking for a place to sleep, which means any sidewalk corner or a makeshift place with a roof. Jason had been to school once but since his father died of a mysterious illness some years ago, he decided to quit school and in order to work.</p><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm6sdhfLI/AAAAAAAAEVk/YybeNoNVJlA/s1600/ulingan22.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm6sdhfLI/AAAAAAAAEVk/YybeNoNVJlA/s400/ulingan22.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571699216308337842" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="">Today, I find Jason doing his usual job of packing coals into sacks. For each sack that he fills, he earns four pesos. Lifting the coals with his bare hands and carefully putting them into sacks, Jason fills up ten sacks from morning until noon, earning him forty pesos. But Jason has to share ten pesos with his friend Louie who holds the sacks while he filled each.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Jason is amused I took the time to interview him, although he seems hesitant answering many of my questions, especially if they are about his family. Failing to elicit response, I turn to Jason’s co-workers to know more about him. They tell me that Jason is not totally an orphan. His mother, it turned out, is still living, though he doesn’t know her whereabouts. She had abandoned him some years ago. Jason doesn’t like to speak much about his family, and so whenever someone asks him about them, he just replies that he is an orphan. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">Jenny, a co-worker of Jason in Ulingan, asked me to help Jason. Although she is poor herself, she has a family nevertheless. She told me how Jason lives everyday. “<i style="">Kawawa talaga yan kuya”</i> Jenny told me, <i style="">“walang pamilya walang bahay, palaboy. Kung saan saan siya naututlog. Minsan nakulong pa dahil pinagbintangan na nagnakaw ng kalakal. Pero mabait yan kuya. Tulungan mo”</i>. (Please take pity on him. He doesn’t have a family, no house to go home to. He just sleeps everywhere. One time he was even imprisoned because he was suspected of stealing scavenged materials. But he is a good boy. Please help him.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">The life-story of an Ulingan boy is not one for the soft-hearted. Apparently, Jason has an older sister in Parola, but since she got married and begat children, she too abandoned Jason. Jason soon plunged into the world of squalor reserved for children whose family had abandoned them.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">I asked Jason if he would like to live with me. Honestly, I could just adopt him, sponsor his schooling and give him a chance to live a more normal life. He smiles but declines my offer. His world is the Ulingan, and despite the harsh conditions, this is what he truly calls his home. Indeed, despite being poor and without a family, Jason survives in independence.<span style=""> </span>An experienced and industrious laborer despite his youth, he could variously work as an errand boy, a stevedore, a coal packer, a trash scavenger and any job at all that could earn him money and assure that he would have something to eat.</p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm6Uc5NuI/AAAAAAAAEVc/_egWFfUdkog/s1600/ulingan21.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 273px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm6Uc5NuI/AAAAAAAAEVc/_egWFfUdkog/s400/ulingan21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571699209863247586" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal" style="">After the grueling work, Jason heads to the nearby <i style="">carinderia </i>(a local store that sells cooked food). This is the day’s highlight for Jason. With his forty pesos, he buys two scoops of fried rice (14 pesos) and an ice-<i style="">tubig</i> (ice cold water) for 2 pesos. He calls this meal as <i style="">altanghap</i> which is shortened for <i style="">almusal-tanghalian-hapunan</i> (breakfast-lunch-supper combined into one). The next meal he would eat will be tomorrow, if he will be lucky enough to find a charcoal owner to work for. As I bid Jason goodbye, I wonder what will happen to him in the future. But then again, I feel confident Jason can somehow manage to survive in the cruel world of Ulingan. He is such a strong and courageous boy. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">In Ulingan, one could stay and gather enough stories that could break the hearts of men. But I do not go to Ulingan to merely tell the tales of pathos, but rather to unravel the conundrum of abject poverty that is a stranger to most of us.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">It is said that the eyes are the windows of our souls. And in the eyes of these children, the truth is starkly revealed.<br /></p><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm6CYh5AI/AAAAAAAAEVM/BQTEOY_Jcl0/s1600/ulingan19.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TVKm6CYh5AI/AAAAAAAAEVM/BQTEOY_Jcl0/s400/ulingan19.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571699205013103618" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This article is published originally at The </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/11104-the-lost-children-of-ulingan.html">Philippine Online Chronicles</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, now one of the world's leading web resource site about the Philippines. Please check our website</span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://thepoc.net/"><span> </span></a><a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/11104-the-lost-children-of-ulingan.html"><span style="font-style: italic;">here!</span></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-13980946116423536122011-01-26T07:47:00.000-08:002011-08-16T16:07:21.784-07:00Tondo's Ulingan: Life in Manila's Inferno (2)<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDC-WRbkI/AAAAAAAAEUw/6iY6wzJOjBA/s1600/ulingan12.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDC-WRbkI/AAAAAAAAEUw/6iY6wzJOjBA/s400/ulingan12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566522857805147714" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:10pt;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">U</span>lingan is a small squatter community in Vitas, Tondo Manila located near the North Harbor where the Manila Bay and the Pasig River meet. Also known as Sitio Damayan--a rather anachronistic name for an impoverished slum community that doesn't receive any subsidy from the government--Ulingan came from the Tagalog word <em>uling</em> (charcoal), and it means “a place where charcoal is made.”</span></span></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>The workers of Ulingan, called <em>ulingeros,</em> rely on the charcoal industry for their daily bread: they work here as wood burners and charcoal packers. The average income per day, however, is way below the minimum wage standards in the Philippines. Many workers earn just around 40 to 70 pesos a day, a fraction of the standard 400 pesos (roughly, 9US$) as mandated by the law.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>The <em>ulingeros</em>, however, seemed content enough. They are not looking for other jobs outside of Ulingan; indeed, they even feel complacent they are employed and have some source of income to somehow mitigate their wretched existence. The pay, however meager it may be, gives them assurance that they will have something to eat on the next day. P40 can buy a kilo of poor-quality rice and maybe a 10-peso bowl of <em>pagpag</em>— discarded left-over foods from city restaurants that have been collected and offered for sale by entrepreneurial scavengers.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>Aside from the charcoal industry, another source of income for the Ulingan people is the Pier 18 garbage dump site nearby*. The refuse of Metro Manila goes here every day and becomes sustenance for the Ulingan people who sift through tons of Manila’s garbage and find something useful that can still be sold to the junk shops. These include scrap metals, plastics, cardboards, electrical wirings, and so on. After a whole day of digging and sifting through the mountains of garbage, the average scavenger just earns enough money for a day’s worth of food.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><strong style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><span>A Surreal Place</span></strong><strong><span> </span></strong></span></p> <span style="font-size:100%;"><span>Ulingan is a place that challenges man’s notion of a normal existence. Outsiders who visit Ulingan are appalled by the inhuman conditions of the community. <a href="http://my_sarisari_store.typepad.com/">Sidney Snoeck</a>, the famed Belgian photojournalist, visited Ulingan with me several times. He witnessed first hand how the people lived in terrible condition. “This place”, says Mr. Snoeck, “is surreal." </span>
<br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>Indeed, Ulingan is a surreal place, as it breaches our normal notion of a community, even that of a slum environment. We know that a slum is supposed to be a poor community where people live in poverty and squalor. But even here, the word slum is an understatement. Everything in Ulingan is an anomaly. The whole place is laden with garbage piles, dirt, and flies. The rats easily outnumber the people. And as if these were not enough, the whole neighborhood shimmers with waves of fumes, heat, and black smoke. In some places nearest the charcoal factory, visibility is zero. Fire and smoke is perpetually present here. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>But Aling Mercedita, 46, and her nine children have long regarded fire and smoke to be their benefactor. “Without the charcoal ovens”, she says, “We would not have survived as we have. Ulingan gives us our daily bread”. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>Aling Mercedita, like the many women I met in Ulingan, is a widow (many other Ulingan wives were separated from their husbands who ran away). Her husband, an <em>ulingero</em>, died of tuberculosis a few years ago, succumbing to the long-term effects of smoke inhalation.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>Now, working as<em> ulingera</em> herself, she has to support her nine children. To lessen the burden, she was forced to send the three youngest to an orphanage for the simple reason that-- to use her own words--“they will just die here.” Her remaining children had to work too, digging through garbage or sifting through charcoals.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>Aling Mercedita smiled while wiping the tears that instantly welled in her wrinkled eyes as she remembered her lost children. Most people can smile in adversity, but one cannot successfully mask the pain, and the tears are the sign of internal suffering. “It gnaws on me”, she continues “I feel guilty whenever I think of my other children. But what can I do?”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>In general, fortitude is an admirable trait. But the poor who bear this characteristic do not strive for admiration. They didn’t want to suffer as no people would. What they needed is our understanding and compassion. Theirs is a brutal existence, and we cannot know exactly the extent of brutality unless we are brave enough to enter their world. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""> </i></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;">Inside the Charcoal Factory</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style="">
<br /></i></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDB5x1csI/AAAAAAAAEUY/E3mDmJ4RDqk/s1600/ulingan16.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDB5x1csI/AAAAAAAAEUY/E3mDmJ4RDqk/s400/ulingan16.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566522839398707906" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>The charcoal factory is the very center of Ulingan. Divided into small shallow pits in the earth enclosed by makeshift fences, the factory is where wood is burned to become charcoal. Each of the pits is filled with neat stacks of wood. The fire is ignited at the top of the wood stack and then covered with <em>yero</em> or iron sheet. Everything is then covered with moist soil. Beneath the piles of wood are small shafts of tubes called <em>tambutso</em>-- flues that act as the exhaust or chimneys of the fire and smoke from within the wood stacks. There are eight or more flues in each charcoal oven, depending on its size. </span></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>The combination of dust, smoke and fumes make Ulingan seem like an inferno—which in a way it is. The acrid smoke and the sweltering heat are overpowering. The people of Ulingan have been burning charcoal for over three days now. Looking haggard and restless, they vigilantly monitor the fire, making sure it is under control. The wood must be burned through slow pyrolysis. If the fire grew any stronger, the wood would be reduced into worthless soot. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>On the other charcoal ovens of the factory, some workers are already through burning their wood. After three days, it is now time to harvest the charcoals from the ovens. With shovels, they carefully lift the charcoals piece by piece to put them on a dry ground. This too must be done carefully so as not to damage the precious charcoal.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>Many of the workers in Ulingan are small children. Some are teenagers and a few are even as young as six or seven. Unable to attend school because of poverty, they are “no read no write” children. Most of them have very low self-esteem and have developed the kind of sullen and taciturn behavior common to children who have endured long-term suffering.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">Nonetheless they are here to survive, even if they do not know until when. Instead of pencils and pens, they have shovels in their hands, taking turns scooping the charcoals into sacks, collecting the nails that could be sold to the junk shops, or packing the charcoals into little plastic bags. All the kids work without protective masks, gloves, and boots. Some are naked.
<br /></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><span></span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBEOojB0CI/AAAAAAAAEU4/Sn3fpHnw0bw/s1600/ulingan10.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBEOojB0CI/AAAAAAAAEU4/Sn3fpHnw0bw/s400/ulingan10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566524157623128098" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDCTuD0FI/AAAAAAAAEUg/EzX-wJHqb-M/s1600/ulingan15.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 277px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDCTuD0FI/AAAAAAAAEUg/EzX-wJHqb-M/s400/ulingan15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566522846362194002" border="0" /></a>
<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>At the end of each grueling working day, the Ulingan people look bedraggled, gaunt weary figures who seem to have just come from a conflagration--which essentially is where they had been. Their eyes look sullen, hair singed with fire, faces masked with soot, and their bodies layered by thick grime. </span></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span>But the polluted Manila Bay is just a step away, and after their grueling work, many dip into the bay to remove the grime on their bodies, and most importantly, to cool and relax themselves—a welcome respite after spending a day’s work in hell.</span></span></p><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDB0He7PI/AAAAAAAAEUQ/EUVW-hKN_Fg/s1600/ulingan17.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDB0He7PI/AAAAAAAAEUQ/EUVW-hKN_Fg/s400/ulingan17.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566522837878893810" border="0" /></a>
<br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDCkfJyXI/AAAAAAAAEUo/-MYdG5TVhyY/s1600/ulingan13.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TUBDCkfJyXI/AAAAAAAAEUo/-MYdG5TVhyY/s400/ulingan13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566522850863073650" border="0" /></a></span></p> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;">*The Pier 18 is actually a garbage transfer point rather than a dumpsite. Nevertheless the people regard it as such.
<br />
<br /></span>This article is published originally at The <a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10990-ulingan-in-tondo-part-2-almost-like-dantes-inferno.html">Philippine Online Chronicles</a>, now one of the world's leading web resource site about the Philippines. Please check our website<a href="http://thepoc.net/"><span> </span></a><span><a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10990-ulingan-in-tondo-part-2-almost-like-dantes-inferno.html">here!</a></span>
<br /><p class="MsoNormal"><i style=""> </i></p><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;"></span> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-51932815141158233942011-01-15T21:28:00.000-08:002011-01-23T20:43:06.969-08:00Tondo's Ulingan: Life in Manila's Inferno<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTMSF-6NLBI/AAAAAAAAETg/KOWEB88QMu8/s1600/ulingan2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTMSF-6NLBI/AAAAAAAAETg/KOWEB88QMu8/s400/ulingan2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562809858728471570" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">A</span></span>ling Nelia Gumapac, 45 years old, and her brood of five live a quiet but difficult life in their shanty in Vitas, Tondo, Manila. The word shanty, however, may be an understatement to describe their abode. Built with scrap wood, discarded tarpaulin, Styrofoam, and other scavenged materials from the garbage dumpsite, it is nothing but a withered old tent--covered with soot as a charcoal factory is a whiff away-- a makeshift ramshackle shack if you will, some four feet in height and around five square meters in size. But Aling Nelia and possibly her children seem content enough, even if they have to crouch in order to get in or out of their shack. “At least,” Aling Nelia says,”we have something to sleep in. It’s very hard to sleep in the streets."<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Their rickety shack is located right on the dumpsite and near the charcoal factory just aft the new Smokey Mountain. Thus they have to contend all day with the heat, fumes, dust, stench, the flies and, at night, the mosquitoes and the vermin. Aling Nelia and her children have grown accustomed to these hazards, however. For them, these are the features of ultimate poverty which they accept to be their lot. “It’s just a matter of adjusting yourself to the situation. We are poor, so we have to live like this,” she says, sounding resigned to their fate.<br /><br /></span> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTZck5bGJbI/AAAAAAAAEUA/C7MWE1b_s8I/s1600/ulingan1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTZck5bGJbI/AAAAAAAAEUA/C7MWE1b_s8I/s400/ulingan1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563736178622342578" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Aling Nelia with her five brood, and with some friends</span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Aling Nelia works in the charcoal factory of Ulingan which is a few blocks away from their house. She is a widow; her husband, a trash scavenger, was killed in Smokey Mountain when one of the cranes carrying trash accidentally fell on him. The husband’s death in 2007 was a big blow to the family. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">“Every night,” Aling Nelia laments, “I sleep with my one eye open, wondering if I would be able to support my children, and whether there will be food for them tomorrow. <em>Ang hirap ng tinitiis naming mga mahirap! Hirap na hirap talaga ako. Kung ako naman ang mawawala, ano na ang mangyayari sa mga anak ko?</em>” </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">In order to survive and make ends meet, Aling Nena works as coal packer. She puts the <em>uling</em> inside small yellow plastic bags. For eight hours of work, she gets paid forty pesos, just enough to buy a kilo of poor-quality rice and a few pieces of dried sardines. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">At the end of each work day, Aling Nelia comes home with her face and body covered with soot. Oh, yes, her children still recognize her under the thick grime, she says laughing. More than that, they must see in her the means to survival: the rice that will be their sustenance for the morrow.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span><span style="font-size:100%;">Her children—who never attended school-- help augment the meager family income by collecting trash in the nearby dumpsite and selling their collection to the junk shops. At the end of a busy day rummaging through piles of garbage, the children are happy to bring a few more pesos so that they will have money for a <em>lugaw</em> (rice porridge) in the morning. The l</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >ugaw</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> assures them that they will be not go hungry for the next two to three days.</span><br /></p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTMSGdY8JVI/AAAAAAAAETw/ZJXLIlQfejo/s1600/ulingan4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 272px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTMSGdY8JVI/AAAAAAAAETw/ZJXLIlQfejo/s400/ulingan4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562809866910442834" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">But it is not every day that they can eat three square meals. There are days when it is worse -- when the charcoal ovens didn’t have wood to burn and Aling Nelia would be out of work. To make matters worse, the children would go home empty handed. The garbage trucks may have brought only useless trash. With no money and food to eat, they would spend the night sleeping with empty stomachs, dreaming about food, and hoping that the morrow would bring in sustenance.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">As a last resort, they dig into trash cans for left-over foods. These discarded foods—known as <em>pagpag</em> in the slums-- are trash to well-off people but manna from heaven to Aling Nelia and her brood--even if these stinking foods are already infested with maggots. The poor has a way to kill the maggots by boiling the food in cooking oil. But it is not everyday there is <em>pagpag</em>. Sometimes all they find are empty food packs. The rats—so numerous in the dump site-- have already beaten them to it. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <span style="font-size:100%;">In a neighboring shack nearby, Mang Julio Dela Cruz, his wife Linda and two small children live. Mang Julio is employed as a wood burner in the same charcoal oven where Aling Nelia works. When Mang Julio first saw me, he shyly asked for a picture with his youngest daughter, Tin, barely two years old. Apparently, he has never had a photo before with her daughter. But Little Tin was afraid of the camera. When I was about to click the shutter, she began to wail. Embarrassed, Mang Julio apologizes to me. I have already taken the shot, however, and the picture that emerged showed a father and daughter smeared with soot and grime.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTMSGCA06CI/AAAAAAAAETo/IBEDdi5nPkY/s1600/ulingan3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTMSGCA06CI/AAAAAAAAETo/IBEDdi5nPkY/s400/ulingan3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562809859561547810" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Mang Julio is a very poor man. He has yet to receive his pay for five days of work (100 pesos a day, or roughly, US$2 ). The scrap woods must be burned slowly—around three to four days of continuous slow burning to become good quality charcoal. It could not be done quickly. Increasing the fire can reduce the wood into powdery soot and therefore render it worthless. Afterwards, when the wood has turned into good charcoal, it is packed by workers like Aling Nelia. Once packed, the <strong style="font-weight: normal; font-style: italic;">uling</strong> (charcoal) is then sold wholesale to a market retailer. Thus, Mang Julio must agonizingly wait for a few days in order to get his pay. Meanwhile, penniless, he momentarily relies on the neighborhood <em>sari-sari</em> store to give him a short-term loan of provisions like rice and canned sardines. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Aling Nena’s and Mang Julio’s are just two of the more than 1,600 families living a subhuman existence in a place called Sitio Damayan a six-hectare slum area in Vitas, Tondo, Manila. Sitio Damayan, also called “Ulingan” because of the charcoal industry in the area, may just happen to be the most depressed of all the depressed slums area in all of Metro Manila. It is located just a few meters away from the infamous Smokey Mountain.</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">During the course of several months, I kept coming back to Ulingan, to immerse myself on the condition of extreme poverty, to study and photograph how the people in this most depressed slum area exist, so that I can report faithfully what they go through everyday. I have been brought up in a middle- class family and the condition of extreme poverty is strange to me. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">It is not a very encouraging work. Each time I visit Ulingan, my heart breaks as I witness how people live in a destitute state. It is not easy to see small naked children running around barefooted begging for money so that they can buy food, or to see their fathers carry multiple sacks of garbage and charcoal on their shoulders to earn a few pesos. I know that in general life is hard indeed, but no one needs to live in utter destitution. Indeed, some animals live better.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">As a photojournalist, I consider it my duty to expose the social illnesses afflicting the poor, the very social cancer that everybody else neither wants to see nor touch. But photography has a stark way to force people to look into a subject that we have long thought to deny. We can no longer ignore the facts. The truth is staring us in the eye.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;">This is my first article on my series on Tondo's Ulingan.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; line-height: normal;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTMSGmZmwvI/AAAAAAAAET4/R2wm6Y_GdRE/s1600/ulingan5.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TTMSGmZmwvI/AAAAAAAAET4/R2wm6Y_GdRE/s400/ulingan5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562809869329154802" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt; text-align: left; font-style: italic;">This article is published originally at The <a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10888-the-charcoal-workers-of-tondo.html">Philippine Online Chronicles</a>, now one of the world's leading web resource site about the Philippines. Please check our website<a href="http://thepoc.net/"><span> here!</span></a><br /></p></div>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-5120629002569975922011-01-09T14:54:00.000-08:002011-01-09T15:10:47.520-08:00Quiapo Procession of the Nuestro Padre Jesus Nazareno 2011<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ULiMJc6xBkQ?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ULiMJc6xBkQ?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">A</span></span> partial movie clip of the more than 1 million devotees who flocked to Quiapo yesterday January 9, 2011 for the 404th Feast Day of the Nuestro Padre Jesus Nazareno. Despite all the frenzy and the shouting, no one is fighting here. Everyone just wanted to touch the Nazareno or the rope that is pulling the carossa.Hundreds were injured though while trying to jockey for position.Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-46416081008981178262011-01-09T05:56:00.000-08:002011-01-09T06:04:00.385-08:00A Blind Singer at Quiapo Nazareno Fiesta 2011<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><object width="640" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/H9EvphAyanA?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/H9EvphAyanA?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"></embed></object></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"></span></span></div><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">A</span></span> blind man with a beautiful voice serenading the devotees at the Quiapo Fiesta, while waiting for the procession on January 9, 2011.<br /><br />NAG-IISANG IKAW<br /><br />Lyrics by Louie Heredia<br /><br />Araw-araw na lang<br />Ay naghihintay sa 'yo<br />Nananabik na mahagkan at mayakap ka<br />Iniwan mong alaala<br />Ang s'yang lagi kong kasama<br />Bakit kapag wala ka<br />Sadya bang kulang pa<br /><br />Bakit kaya gano'n<br />Ang s'yang nadarama<br />Sa bawat sandali hanap ka ng aking mata<br />Marahil ay ikaw na nga<br />Sa akin puso ang ligaya<br />Dahil sa 'yo ako'y wala nang hahanapin pa<br /><br />Ikaw ang pag-ibig ko<br />Ang tawag ng damdamin<br />Ang mabuhay nang wala ka<br />Ay hindi sapat<br />Dahil kailangan ko<br />Ay laging ikaw<br />Nasa t'wina'y nagtatanaw<br />Sa aking puso'y may tinatangi<br />Ang nag-iisang ikaw<br /><br />Bakit kaya gano'n<br />Ang s'yang nadarama<br />Sa bawat sandali hanap ka ng aking mata<br />Marahil ay ikaw na nga<br />Sa akin puso ang ligaya<br />Dahil sa 'yo ako'y wala nang hahanapin pa<br /><br />Ikaw ang pag-ibig ko<br />Ang tawag ng damdamin<br />Ang mabuhay nang wala ka<br />Ay hindi sapat<br />Dahil kailangan ko<br />Ay laging ikaw<br />Nasa t'wina'y nagtatanaw<br />Sa aking puso'y may tinatangi<br />Ang nag-iisang ikaw<br /><br />Kahit na ano'ng mangyari<br />Magmamahal pa rin sa yo<br />At ang lagi kong iisipin<br />Mahal mo rin ako<br /><br />Ikaw ang pag-ibig ko<br />Ang tawag ng damdamin<br />Ang mabuhay nang wala ka<br />Ay hindi sapat<br />Dahil kailangan ko<br />Ay laging ikaw<br />Nasa t'wina'y nagtatanaw<br />Sa aking puso'y may tinatangi<br />Ang nag-iisang ikawDennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-21738292269140454892011-01-06T09:41:00.000-08:002011-01-08T09:38:29.920-08:00The Senyor Nazareno: Lord of Quiapo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TSYC5hi9rXI/AAAAAAAAETA/9pJsuU8bUrE/s1600/quiapo3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 307px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TSYC5hi9rXI/AAAAAAAAETA/9pJsuU8bUrE/s400/quiapo3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559133977316273522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">W</span></span>hen I was a small boy, I always knew the <em>Pista ng Quiapo</em> was drawing near whenever I saw colorful buntings and banners being hung around the streets of downtown Manila. Back then, I was afraid of the <em>Pista ng Quiapo</em> because that meant my father would hold me aloft once more amidst the line of supplicants i<span style="text-decoration: underline;">n Quiapo Church</span> -- for me to touch the statue of the <em>Nuestro Padre Jesus Nazareno,</em> a statue that frightened me because of its bloody face and black skin. <p>Afterwards, we would line up once more, this time to kiss the foot of the huge <em>Santo Entierro</em>, the Dead Christ, inside his glass coffin. You can just imagine how scared I was at that time. In fact, big statues of saints always gave me the creeps, and we have a few of those in our devoutly Catholic home prominently displayed in the huge altar of our living room. I thought that the mannequins always looked at me straight in the eye, and I imagined them moving during midnight hours.</p> <p>The 9<sup>th</sup> of January is the Feast Day of the Nuestro Padre Jesus Nazareno, the grandest fiesta in all of Manila. On this day, tens of thousands of barefooted devotees flock to Quiapo to pay homage to the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em>, the Black Christ and the Lord of Downtown. For several years, I have been one of the multitudes who participate in the grand procession of the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em>.</p> <p>The ultimate task of the devotee is to climb the <em>carossa</em> which bears the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em>, and to touch the statue with hand and towel while asking the <em>Senyor</em> to grant his fervent wish. It is a formidable undertaking as there are the other thousands bent to do the same. The strategy is to jockey for position, elbow and squeeze your way through the humongous crowd, and then with sheer muscle and brawn muster your acrobatic skills to swim on top of a sea of people in order to climb the carrosa.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TSYC5RDRmWI/AAAAAAAAES4/T8drgjTbdk0/s1600/quiapo2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TSYC5RDRmWI/AAAAAAAAES4/T8drgjTbdk0/s400/quiapo2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559133972888394082" border="0" /></a></p>Not everyone can do this stunt successfully. There were many in the past who got trampled and either injured or killed in the stampede. Those who lacked the daring and the physical agility, and who do not have the desire to be injured or killed, have to be contented to throw their shirts and towels to the guardians surrounding the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em>, the <em>Hijos del Nazareno</em>, who will wipe it for them on the Nazareno’s sacrosanct image. <p>The frenzy surrounding the procession lies in the supplicants’ belief that the statue of the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> is miraculous. Many people believe that if they do a <em>panata</em> (vow) to follow the procession every January 9 for an exact number of years, the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> will repay their devotion by granting whatever wish they have, be it material or spiritual.</p> <p>Stories of people whose wishes have been granted by the <em>Senyor </em>abound. There was, for instance, the story of Aling Norma Lapuz, who suffered from brain cancer and decided to fight her way to touch the Black Nazarene during the 2007 procession. She was successful, thanks tothe help of the macho men who carried her aloft while the <em>Senyor </em>paraded in front of her. Afterwards she went to have a brain scan, and lo and behold, the tumor was gone—to the amazement of her doctors. Aling Norma attributes the miracle to the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em>.</p> <p>There is also the story of Mr. Antonio Lucio who won in the Sweepstakes after following the procession for exactly nine years of devotion. The prize money made him a multi-millionaire, and of course, he attributes his great luck to the blessings of the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em>. In gratitude, he made huge donations to the Quiapo Church and ordered new robes for the <em>Senyor</em>. He also became one of the huge money contributors to the <em>Comite de Festejos </em>whenever the <em>Pista ng Poong Nazareno </em>approaches.</p> <p>And, of course, there is the unforgettable story of a radio announcer who became Vice President of the Philippines because he vowed to follow the procession every January 9 of his life. Up to now that he is back to radio and television, he continues his <em>panata</em> to follow the Senyor Nazareno’s procession.</p> <p>But there are also those whose wishes have not come true—yet, but who believe, in time, the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> will grant these. After all, the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> knows their sufferings and will, if they are steadfast in their devotion, sooner or later grant their heart's desire.</p> <p>Aling Leticia Mendoza, 54 years old, has been following the procession of the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> ever since she arrived in Quiapo some 12 years before. Born in Samar, she made it a vow to follow the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em>. Now paralyzed with stroke, she doubled her efforts to please the <em>Senyor</em>, going to church every Friday in a wheelchair, begging the <em>Senyor</em> to heal her. But her condition is no better. She believes, however, that the Lord will answer her prayer soon. “I have faith in the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em>. Even to the last breath I will follow the <em>Senyor</em>,” she insists.</p> <p>My late maternal grandmother was not a Quiapo devotee, but in August 1944, she suddenly became one. Her husband and my Lolo, Alfredo Santos, a guerilla, was captured by the Japanese Army. Rumor had it that he was executed by the Japanese for his resistance to the invaders. My Lola went to Quiapo Church and knelt all day and night by the altar, asking the <em>Senyor</em> to bring her husband back. But my Lolo never came back. Of course my Lola never blamed the <em>Senyor, </em>but she was angry with the Japanese all her life.</p> <p>The veneration of statues as true representations of God and saints is a long and deep-seated tradition of the Roman Catholic Church. Through the centuries, the Roman Catholics have created many different versions of statues for one saint. The Virgin Mary, for instance, has various representations. In the Philippines alone, she is variously depicted as the <em>Lady of Penafrancia</em> in <a href="http://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Naga" title="WikiPilipinas: Naga" rel="nofollow" target="wikipedia">Naga</a>, the <em>Lady of Peace and Good Voyage</em> in <a href="http://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Antipolo" title="WikiPilipinas: Antipolo" rel="nofollow" target="wikipedia">Antipolo</a>, the <em>Lady of Manaoag</em> in <a href="http://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Pangasinan" title="WikiPilipinas: Pangasinan" rel="nofollow" target="wikipedia">Pangasinan</a>, and so on.</p><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TSaXAH6BPiI/AAAAAAAAETI/nsz9DtrUr8Y/s1600/quiapo4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TSaXAH6BPiI/AAAAAAAAETI/nsz9DtrUr8Y/s400/quiapo4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559296818413649442" border="0" /></a>The same thing goes for the Roman Catholics' devotion to the Lord Jesus Christ. He is variously depicted in statues as a sleeping baby (<em>Santo Nino Dormido</em>), as a young boy (<em>Senyor Santo Nino</em>), or as the suffering Christ (<em>Senyor Nazareno</em>). The <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> is depicted in four different statues inside the Quiapo Church alone. The most famous one, of course, is the genuflecting, bleeding Christ in maroon-colored robe carrying a huge cross—its head with a crown of thorns and a diadem forming three golden rays. The three other statues depict the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> as the crucified Christ, the <em>Santo Entierro</em> (dead Christ), and finally, the triumphant resurrected Christ. <p>Devotees from all walks of life spend enormous time and energy to queue every Friday to touch the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> statues so that they may be blessed. Many small children, however, are quite afraid of the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> statues, especially the <em>Santo Entierro</em>-- the statue of the dead Christ lying inside the glass coffin.</p> <p>The veneration of the <em>Senyor Nazareno</em> in Quiapo started in the 17<sup>th</sup> century when the Augustinian Recollects brought its image to the Philippines. According to legend, the original statue was carved by an Aztec sculptor and, when it was brought to the Philippines in 1606 by way of the Pacific Ocean, the galleon that carried it caught fire, charring the statue and rendering its color black. The statue was initially enshrined in the first Recollect church in Bagumbayan (now part of Luneta Park). That is why the statue is being paraded from Quiapo to Luneta, and then back to Quiapo. Between 1767 and 1790, the Archbishop of Manila, Basilio Sancho de Santas Justa y Rufina, ordered the transfer of the Black Nazarene to its present location inside the Quiapo Church.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TSYBuNYeHXI/AAAAAAAAESw/Al4qalDKuRk/s1600/quiapo1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TSYBuNYeHXI/AAAAAAAAESw/Al4qalDKuRk/s400/quiapo1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559132683413364082" border="0" /></a></p><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />*This article was originally published at the </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10781-the-senyor-nazareno-lord-of-quapo.html">Philippine Online Chronicles</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, now one of the world's leading news and article magazines in the web. For other more interesting articles log on to </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10781-the-senyor-nazareno-lord-of-quapo.html">Thepoc.net</a><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10781-the-senyor-nazareno-lord-of-quapo.html">here</a><span style="font-style: italic;">.</span>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-36162367308266186772010-12-31T23:25:00.000-08:002012-12-29T17:12:47.743-08:00Justice for Rizal!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YbBmvygI/AAAAAAAAERw/K6a9vcellpw/s1600/DSCF5743.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557116949020789250" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YbBmvygI/AAAAAAAAERw/K6a9vcellpw/s400/DSCF5743.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 294px;" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YjuIwqeI/AAAAAAAAESg/SIasjZW-6LA/s1600/DSCF5772.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a><!--[if !mso]> <style> v\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} o\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} w\:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} .shape {behavior:url(#default#VML);} </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if !mso]><img src="//img2.blogblog.com/img/video_object.png" style="background-color: #b2b2b2; " class="BLOGGER-object-element tr_noresize tr_placeholder" id="ieooui" data-original-id="ieooui" /> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--><span style="font-size: 180%;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">K</span></span>a Ed Punzalan is a man on a mission. Since 1995 he has been deep in research, compiling facts and figures so that he could finally bring to the court of justice the killers of Dr. Jose Rizal—114 years after the hero was shot by a firing squad. The hero was executed here in Bagumbayan (now Luneta) at exactly 7:03 am, on December 30, 1896 by order of the Spanish Military Tribunal for the charges of sedition and rebellion against the government. Ka Ed believed--and rightly so--that Rizal's trial was a farce.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fast forward December 30, 2010— Ka Ed was standing on the very ground where Rizal fell, distributing leaflets to people, giving impromptu speeches, and promising that he will re-open the Rizal murder case. This was where I met Ka Ed, as I was also on a pilgrimage to the exact execution ground of the Philippine National Hero. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A native of Pampanga, Philippines, Ka Ed grew up with stories of Rizal’s heroism and greatness embedded in his young mind. Although he didn’t get past Grade Six, Ka Ed was a voracious reader of history. As a young man, he read the various biographies of Rizal and became a staunch admirer of the dead hero. Fifteen years ago, he started his crusade to research on available resources so that he could prove once and for all there is still a case against those responsible for the patriot's death.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Earlier in the morning, Ka Ed attended the memorial ceremonies at the Rizal Monument led by President Benigno Aquino III. Ka Ed wanted to have an audience with President Aquino so that he could personally present his case to P-noy, but he could not get through the tight security around the president. I told him that presidents have daily schedules that should be followed and one cannot just go through him at whim. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ka Ed was complacent. “I will go to Malacanang one day and ask for an appointment”, he said. Meanwhile he started giving out to pedestrians and tourists brochures documenting his various researches. “Here”, he said to me and some of the curious onlookers who stopped by to listen to his impromptu speech,“are the facts that we could use to sue the killers of Rizal.”<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could not for the moment believe what he was saying. Rizal has been dead for many years; whoever killed the hero couldn't still be around today. No mature person alive in 1896 could still be living in 2010. I was here in the Luneta to pay homage to the national hero; but meeting Ka Ed and knowing his strange case is totally unexpected. Indeed, I expected to meet some Rizalistas here as I have in the past—those who believe that Rizal is God and therefore still alive--they always flock to the Luneta on December 30 and June 19 to honor God Rizal. But Ka Ed is not the usual Rizalista you would meet in the Luneta, Calamba, and Mount Makiling. He doesn’t believe that Rizal is God. He believes that Rizal is only a human being like you and me—but a great one, and Rizal was wrongly executed on December 30, 1896 on false charges. Ka Ed is very determined to set the facts straight and correct the injustice. He will exert every effort to re-open the Rizal murder case.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Admittedly, I find Ka Ed’s thinking quite unique, if not downright bizarre. Here was a man trying to put Rizal’s killers to justice. This is the first time I have ever heard a man trying to pursue this long-forgotten, albeit obviously neglected murder case. Ka Ed may be a lone crusader but he was a very determined one. He produced several photocopied sheets of his researches. I was astounded they ran into hundred pages, obviously a task that required a lot of time and energy. I am not prone to judge a person, but Ka Ed doesn’t exactly fall into the category of lunatic—he was quite a sensible man—though his mission is quixotic and unusual.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of Ka Ed’s audiences said: <span style="font-style: italic;">“Malabo na ho yang sinasabi nyo. Matagal na hong patay si Rizal. At isa pa, patay na rin yung mga pumatay sa kanya. Sino pa ang ikukulong natin?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
The audience smiled but Ka Ed was unfazed and quickly replied, <span style="font-style: italic;">“Tama ka, pero makakakuha tayo ng damages para sa pagpatay nilang ginawa kay Dr. Jose Rizal”.</span><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-style: italic;">“Eh sino po ba ang pumatay kay Rizal, di po ba mga Gwardiya Sibil?”</span> said a young man, presumably a college student and one who already took a Rizal course.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-style: italic;">“Napag-utusan lang ang mga Guwardiya Sibil. Hindi sila ang may kasalanan kungdi yung mga mastermind”</span>, said Ka Ed quite emotionally.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-style: italic;">“E sino po yung mga mastermind?”</span><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-style: italic;">
“Aba e di yung Gobernador Heneral, yung Hari ng Espanya, at Papa sa Roma noong panahon na yun. Si Gobernador Heneral Camilo Polavieja, Haring Alfonso XIII, at Papa Leo XIII. Patay na sila pero mahahabol pa natin ang bansang Espanya at Roma na magbayad sa atin ng damages”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<span style="font-style: italic;">Magkano naman po ang damages</span>”, asked another listener.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We will demand that they pay us 333 Billion U.S. Dollars for the 333 years that they occupied our country. That’s 1 billion every year”, Ka Ed said.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Suddenly a wild applause from the audience erupted and Ka Ed was visibly pleased. But for me, I was getting a little tired of this. After making some excuses, I prepared to leave. But Ka Ed wanted me to wait, because on this very day, he would go to the Department of Justice to file a case to against Rizal’s killers. Fortunately, December 30, 2010 is a working holiday and all the government offices were open. The only problem is that Ka Ed didn’t know where the Department of Justice office was located. I said it’s in Padre Faura street, in Malate.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Can you accompany me?” Ka Ed said. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Right then and there I would have said no, and instead just give him directions, but I supposed if I helped him go to the Department of Justice (DOJ), and possibly meet with Secretary Leila De Lima, the country’s chief attorney could advise him to stop his fantasies. This way he could retire from his mission (he was already 70) and perhaps embark on another worthwhile and more realistic mission (say, find the true killer/s of the Vizcondes).<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So we went to the DOJ. We walked the convoluted Ermita streets, stopping by a few moments to buy crackers and soft drinks from a sidewalk vendor. In half an hour, we were at the gates of the DOJ. The kindly guards at the gates inquired where we wished to go. Ka Ed could barely contain his excitement. He said “I am going to file a case to re-open Rizal’s murder case and bring to justice those who killed him”.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The guards looked at one another, but they realized that Ka Ed was serious and surmised I was a reporter with a camera. The guards requested us to log in our names and directed us to the second floor of the DOJ building so we can meet Secretary De Lima. Unfortunately, the secretary was in an important meeting that could not be disturbed, even for such a momentous case as the murder of Rizal. We were directed instead to the office of one of the government prosecutors.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A kindly middle-aged woman warmly greeted us. “How can I help you sir?” asked the lady who happened to be one of the DOJ’s prosecutors (she declined to give her name though after realizing I was a reporter).<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Madam”, said Ka Ed “I want to file a case”.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Is it criminal or civil?” asked the lady prosecutor.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s criminal madam!” said Ka Ed, barely containing his enthusiasm “I want to file a criminal case against the killers of Dr. Jose Rizal!”<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, the lady prosecutor was very matter of fact, very professional, as one could expect from a lawyer--not a little bit shocked by Ka Ed’s statement. She said without a hint of exasperation: “Sir, Rizal was killed in 1896, a period of 114 years. The prescriptive period for a criminal case has already elapsed. For a murder case to be pursued, one must file a case twenty years from the commission of the crime.”<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Undaunted, Ka Ed replied: “If it’s not possible to file a criminal case here in DOJ, then I will go to the International Court of Justice to file this case”.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, you certainly can sir. But I doubt if your case will be entertained”, said the lady prosecutor.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“At least I will give it a try, and I'm the only Filipino who have tried to get justice for Rizal” said Ka Ed proudly. Ka Ed asked the lady prosecutor a file form so that he could still file a murder case. The lady gave him one and Ka Ed enthusiastically filled up the blanks. In the blank where it asked what case was being filed, Ka Ed wrote: "Murder Case Against the Killers of Rizal".<br />
<br /></div>
Still Ka Ed thought that the DOJ might just ignore his plea. He still wanted to go to the International Court of Justice. He asked me, “Do you know where the International Court of Justice is located?” <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unfortunately,or rather fortunately I do not know where the International Court of Justice is.<br />
<br />
I thought that I had helped him enough. While I was about to walk away, Ka Ed said to me “Thank you ha? <span style="font-style: italic;">Ite-text kita pag nanalo itong kaso. Kailangan nating bigyang katarungan ang kamatayan ni Rizal!”</span><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I smiled and wished him the best.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7Yb50CE6I/AAAAAAAAESI/MoGD8lSuVMI/s1600/DSCF5762.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557116964108899234" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7Yb50CE6I/AAAAAAAAESI/MoGD8lSuVMI/s400/DSCF5762.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 282px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> </a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Going to the DOJ</div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YjWZQqQI/AAAAAAAAESY/WzAHOCvDxlQ/s1600/DSCF5773.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557117092040321282" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YjWZQqQI/AAAAAAAAESY/WzAHOCvDxlQ/s400/DSCF5773.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Explaining to the DOJ security guards his important case to bring to justice Rizal’s killers.</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YjuIwqeI/AAAAAAAAESg/SIasjZW-6LA/s1600/DSCF5772.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557117098413566434" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YjuIwqeI/AAAAAAAAESg/SIasjZW-6LA/s400/DSCF5772.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YjWZQqQI/AAAAAAAAESY/WzAHOCvDxlQ/s1600/DSCF5773.jpg"><br /></a><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YcLF5deI/AAAAAAAAESQ/SKw6OgYY2S8/s1600/DSCF5768.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557116968747234786" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YcLF5deI/AAAAAAAAESQ/SKw6OgYY2S8/s400/DSCF5768.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Filing the murder case for the “heinous crime of murdering Rizal”</div>
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7Ybt3hL9I/AAAAAAAAESA/jdzQKaSMnMY/s1600/DSCF5750.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557116960902295506" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7Ybt3hL9I/AAAAAAAAESA/jdzQKaSMnMY/s400/DSCF5750.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 261px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Ka Ed with a new supporter, Princess Bae Catiguman</div>
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YbfSpPtI/AAAAAAAAER4/C2ACfE5qaK4/s1600/DSCF5747.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557116956989538002" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TR7YbfSpPtI/AAAAAAAAER4/C2ACfE5qaK4/s400/DSCF5747.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
Lecturing the people about Rizal and why it’s important to put to justice those responsible for killing Rizal and other Philippine heroes like Diego Silang, Gabriela Silang, the Thirteen Martyrs of Cavite, and the Three Martyred Priests Gomburza.</div>
<span style="font-style: italic;">***This article originally appeared at the </span><a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10721-justice-for-rizal-.html" style="font-style: italic;">Philippine Online Chronicles</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, the world's leading online news magazine about the Philippines. For more interesting articles and news please visit our website </span><a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10721-justice-for-rizal-.html" style="font-style: italic;">here</a><span style="font-style: italic;">.</span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-91235341956817170772010-12-16T22:46:00.000-08:002013-06-10T13:46:53.542-07:00Artex, Malabon: A Waterworld Village<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsI0JdQCzI/AAAAAAAAEP0/WuyTg0f4nIU/s1600/artex3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551540657649093426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsI0JdQCzI/AAAAAAAAEP0/WuyTg0f4nIU/s400/artex3.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 247px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 180%;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">D</span></span>uring the monsoon season, many areas in Metro Manila are prone to flooding. But in <a href="http://en.wikipilipinas.org/index.php?title=Malabon">Malabon</a>, just north of the suburbs of Manila, flood is a regular occurrence—rainy season or not---because of its low location and its proximity to Manila Bay. <br />
One of Malabon’s lowest-lying areas is Panghulo, where a small housing village known as Artex is permanently submerged in flood. The houses in Artex have been sunk in five-foot flood since 2004, and the water has never receded. It has stayed put, permanently changing the way of life of the Artex residents.<br />
The changing geography and economy of Malabon is the main cause of the permanent flood. With urban population growth, many of the old fishing ponds surrounding Artex Compound were converted into housing villages. The ponds were filled with soil and elevated. The conversion of ponds to housing villages resulted in the construction of roads, raising further the land surrounding the Artex Compound, and thereby turning it into a virtual wash basin. All of the more than 200 houses of Artex sank in five-foot deep waters. During heavy rains, the flood could reach up to ten feet deep. Luckily, all the houses are two stories high, with the ground floor submerged and the second floor more or less dry.<br />
The Artex residents, most of whom are poor, have chosen to stay in the village. They have no other place to go. They decided they can live with the flood. It is a hard life indeed, but the Artex people, like most Filipinos living in poverty, have persevered. The flood is a harsh reality they have learned to adapt well to. They built small boats to get around the village, to go to work, school or market, or to get in or out of the village. Despite the difficulties, no family has immediate plans to leave the village.<br />
<br />
The people of Artex continue to live "normal" lives despite the abnormal situation they find themselves in. In fact, many consider themselves lucky to have a home they call their own— even if the lower-half of the houses is sunk in water. Indeed, it is better than being homeless. The residents consider the permanent flood as the “new normal”--they can live with it, they have lived with it, they will endure it.<br />
<br />
Artex Compound, however, has not always been a waterworld. There was a time not so long ago when people still walked---instead of paddle--the streets of Artex. The compound was built in 1979 by the Artex Yupangco Textile Mills Corporation---one of the Philippines’ largest textile manufacturers in the 1960s and 1970s—as a housing project for its laborers. <br />
<br />
In 1984, however, the Artex Labor Union staged a strike against the corporation, claiming inhuman conditions at work and below minimum-wage rates. They demanded better facilities and payment of back wages they claim the company owed them for the years they were underpaid. They stopped working until the company paid them what they demanded. The company, however, stood its ground. While salary rates were indeed below those mandated by law, the company insisted the gap was compensated for by the housing units workers get to live in free of rent; i. e., the Artex Compound.<br />
There was thus an impasse between the company and its laborers. Lawsuits were filed and counter-filed, with each of the parties not yielding to each other’s demands. The Artex workers held their ground and stayed in the housing compound despite the company’s demand they vacate it. In 1989, the Artex Yupangco Textile Mills Corporation finally shut down, not because the company simply decided to give up on the business, but rather because of the worsening flood situation in the compound and the factory. In the rainy season of 1989, the flood was higher than usual. Although the waters still receded into the bay, the flood was becoming more frequent, even on summer months.<br />
<br />
The Artex residents, now jobless, contributed what little money they had to buy an expensive water pump to spill the water outside the compound. But in 2004, as more lands surrounding Artex were elevated by the construction of new roads, and more fishing ponds were converted into housing villages, the Artex Compound virtually became a wash basin—the lowest-lying area in all of Panghulo, Malabon. No matter how long and hard they used their water pump, the flood simply spilled back into the village. It was a waste of time and money. The compound became a virtual waterworld. <br />
The permanent flood did not stop the company and the resident-laborers from battling each other in the courts, despite the fact that all of the houses have all been now permanently submerged. Legally, the Artex Yupangco Textile Mills still owns the housing compound, but as part of their continuing protest, the resident-laborers would not leave the houses unless the company paid them their back wages.<br />
And so, even as Artex residents struggled to cope living with the flood day in and day out, at the back of their minds, they are nagged by a far graver fear -- that any time the courts could issue an order for them to vacate their submerged houses. As yet, the residents are complacent with what they have, still waiting for the uncertain future.<br />
<br />
They might have weathered the flood, but the legal battle rages on.<br />
<br />
I interviewed Aling Lourdes Mariano, 58 years old, one of the old residents of Artex Compound. A former worker in the textile mills, she was one of the lucky ones to be given a housing unit in the Artex Compound. She grew up in Panghulo, Malabon and thus has known flood all her life. Luckily, the houses of Artex are all two stories high, enabling residents to keep dry on the upper floors. <br />
Today, Aling Lourdes and her family keep body and soul together with the help of a small sari-sari store business. She sells a variety of retail goods to her neighbors, like a pint of vinegar, a pack of garlic, or snack foods. A bag attached with strings is slid from her store to her customer’s house. Her clients would shout out to Aling Lourdes (window to window) what they wanted to buy -- say, for instance, a bottle of cooking oil. Aling Lourdes would put the bottle inside a bag and slide it through the strings into the neighbor’s window. The neighbor then puts the payment inside the same bag and slides it back to Aling Lourdes' store. Some customers, too far away for the strings to reach, paddle their way to Aling Maria’s store to buy the commodities. Business is done this way, everyday.<br />
“It’s really hard to live here in Artex,” says Aling Lourdes, “But we have survived. We have no choice. And we have learned to love this compound despite the flood.”<br />
“Has anyone drowned here?” I asked.<br />
<em>“There was a drunken man who went home one very late night who drowned. His body was discovered early the next morning. Aside from him, no one has drowned here.”</em><br />
“Are there no plans to rehabilitate Artex, say, to fill these waters with soil?”<br />
<em>“That would be a very expensive project. Most of us who live here are poor, so we cannot afford it.”</em><br />
“Is the local government trying to help you?”<br />
<em> “Local politicians always campaign here during election time, with lots of promises to help us. But so far, we have received very little support from them.”</em><br />
“Are you prepared to live here all your life?”<br />
<em>“We really have no choice. If we are destined to live here all the days of our lives, then so be it. Besides, we have come to love this place, and we have already found ways to live with the flood. It is hard but we have to accept it.”</em><br />
<em></em>“Is there any news update on the lawsuit between the Artex residents and the Yupangcos?”<br />
<em>“As far as I know, the case is still in the courts. If the courts decide that we should leave Artex, then we would leave. But the Yupangcos must pay us our back wages. We will not leave unless they pay us."</em><br />
“What if by miracle, you wake up one day and the flood is gone?”<br />
<em>“Then we would be the happiest people in the world”.</em><br />
<em><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKCBLjKbI/AAAAAAAAERE/3vF0gk8d_TM/s1600/Artex15.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541995457161650" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKCBLjKbI/AAAAAAAAERE/3vF0gk8d_TM/s400/Artex15.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></em><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKCT9XPVI/AAAAAAAAERM/OQZVTENc5R4/s1600/Artex16.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551542000497933650" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKCT9XPVI/AAAAAAAAERM/OQZVTENc5R4/s400/Artex16.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKB6IuNdI/AAAAAAAAEQ8/-p6oZJoJgqY/s1600/artex12.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541993566254546" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKB6IuNdI/AAAAAAAAEQ8/-p6oZJoJgqY/s400/artex12.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 268px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKB8eHaBI/AAAAAAAAEQ0/34hNsJdvBN0/s1600/artex11.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541994192857106" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKB8eHaBI/AAAAAAAAEQ0/34hNsJdvBN0/s400/artex11.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKBsKXc1I/AAAAAAAAEQs/Pjkz3fST6Jc/s1600/artex10.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541989815055186" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsKBsKXc1I/AAAAAAAAEQs/Pjkz3fST6Jc/s400/artex10.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJwqnHemI/AAAAAAAAEQk/Y3BKXqu-YmI/s1600/artex9.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541697340996194" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJwqnHemI/AAAAAAAAEQk/Y3BKXqu-YmI/s400/artex9.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 273px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJvyCUkcI/AAAAAAAAEQU/CNF22s0i-hM/s1600/artex7.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541682154279362" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJvyCUkcI/AAAAAAAAEQU/CNF22s0i-hM/s400/artex7.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJv0wouKI/AAAAAAAAEQM/2nW740NCcTI/s1600/artex6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541682885408930" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJv0wouKI/AAAAAAAAEQM/2nW740NCcTI/s400/artex6.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJvnDrocI/AAAAAAAAEQE/vV1qIu13e3s/s1600/artex5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541679207195074" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJvnDrocI/AAAAAAAAEQE/vV1qIu13e3s/s400/artex5.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 267px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsI0bN05fI/AAAAAAAAEP8/JLjqtDXi8tg/s1600/artex4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551540662416238066" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsI0bN05fI/AAAAAAAAEP8/JLjqtDXi8tg/s400/artex4.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 249px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsIzZ0LwoI/AAAAAAAAEPs/ALIRiUy8I34/s1600/artex2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551540644860379778" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsIzZ0LwoI/AAAAAAAAEPs/ALIRiUy8I34/s400/artex2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 279px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsIzeW7PwI/AAAAAAAAEPk/Nhpmq4xiN1M/s1600/artex1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551540646079840002" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsIzeW7PwI/AAAAAAAAEPk/Nhpmq4xiN1M/s400/artex1.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 271px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsIzIe0t3I/AAAAAAAAEPc/1XVqrETIx34/s1600/artex.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551540640207386482" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsIzIe0t3I/AAAAAAAAEPc/1XVqrETIx34/s400/artex.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 268px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJwFCkLkI/AAAAAAAAEQc/nAEB211iqCQ/s1600/artex8.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551541687255576130" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TQsJwFCkLkI/AAAAAAAAEQc/nAEB211iqCQ/s400/artex8.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /></a><br />Note: This article has been originally published at the <a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10562-artex-malabon-a-waterworld-compound.html">Philippine Online Chronicles</a>, now one of the world's leading web news magazine on the Philippines. Please visit<a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10562-artex-malabon-a-waterworld-compound.html"> the.poc.net</a> <a href="http://thepoc.net/thepoc-features/buhay-pinoy/buhay-pinoy-features/10562-artex-malabon-a-waterworld-compound.html">here</a> and read more interesting articles about the Philippines!</span>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-84868374655577335822010-12-10T06:16:00.000-08:002010-12-10T06:17:18.030-08:00Cubao Rush Hour<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8YgPeWWAI/AAAAAAAABNY/MBScA_8pgJI/s1600-h/rushour6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8YgPeWWAI/AAAAAAAABNY/MBScA_8pgJI/s400/rushour6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232928234216511490" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;">I</span></span>t happens every night in Aurora Boulevard Cubao: people lining the streets waiting for the jeepney, bus, Fx, or taxicabs that will bring them home. As it happened, rush hour in Cubao is a protracted one. It starts at 4 o'clock in the afternoon and ends at about 10 in the evening, when the people begin to thin out. The photos above and below were taken at about 9 in the evening.<br /><br />I pity the people who do this on a daily basis. Imagine having to work everyday for eight hours, be it in the office or the construction site, and then waiting in line for hours in the streets afterwards, longing for the much needed rest at home, and there weren't enough vehicles to transport them home. And when they finally get to board a vehicle, the hours of traffic ahead still add fatigue to the already tired body.<br /><br />I myself experienced this for several years, and I know the pains and the exhaustion of this kind of commuting. In the end, I decided to quit work, because I knew I will not be able to survive this kind of existence, that this will either take a toll on my health, or I'd look older than my age. Maybe I wasn't built so tough, and I must have thought there was more to life than chasing buses and jeepneys. But for many people, this is already an inescapable part of living or working in busy Cubao.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8Rl4otZ5I/AAAAAAAABMs/9G3CSosUUgo/s1600-h/rushhour.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8Rl4otZ5I/AAAAAAAABMs/9G3CSosUUgo/s400/rushhour.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232920634583771026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8S36d7JTI/AAAAAAAABNA/F_04nUhq15g/s1600-h/rushour3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8S36d7JTI/AAAAAAAABNA/F_04nUhq15g/s400/rushour3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232922043824678194" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8YUTssT6I/AAAAAAAABNQ/i-cNqEOMzPI/s1600-h/rushour5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8YUTssT6I/AAAAAAAABNQ/i-cNqEOMzPI/s400/rushour5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232928029191983010" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8S4BFBgoI/AAAAAAAABNI/zHLIXi0m3AE/s1600-h/rushour4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8S4BFBgoI/AAAAAAAABNI/zHLIXi0m3AE/s400/rushour4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232922045599285890" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8SJxTcFsI/AAAAAAAABM4/nahBqFlb6xA/s1600-h/rushour2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/SJ8SJxTcFsI/AAAAAAAABM4/nahBqFlb6xA/s400/rushour2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232921251090798274" border="0" /></a>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16867153.post-54647356793046725212010-11-24T08:58:00.001-08:002011-09-21T11:27:22.996-07:00Kropek<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TO1JTgJWXBI/AAAAAAAAEPE/itE6G1yvDsU/s1600/DSCF5852.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ZSDvZc5FF1I/TO1JTgJWXBI/AAAAAAAAEPE/itE6G1yvDsU/s400/DSCF5852.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543167315758439442" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">K</span></span>ropek (or kropeck), photographed above, is a very common Pinoy snack that has stood the test of time. It is a fish or prawn cracklings (mixed with flour) that have been dried in the sun and deep fried. The Star brand pack consists of around 20 pieces of rectangular-shaped kropek cracklings. There is another variety, though, the oval-shaped one that is slightly a bit thinner but same delicious taste.<br /><br />In one sitting, I could eat one pack of this <span style="font-style: italic;">kropek</span>, especially if I sink each of its contents in a small bowl of <span style="font-style: italic;">sukang maanghang</span>. When I was a kid, a piece of kropek was 10 centavos (one pack would be around 2 pesos). No one sells it by the piece now, however, as it is usually sold in one pack for ten pesos. The <span style="font-style: italic;">sukang maanghang</span> is always free, though. Back then, one pack of <span style="font-style: italic;">kropek</span> would be an ideal snack while watching the Crispa-Toyota games in our old Black and White TV set. Or perhaps a snack while reading <span style="font-style: italic;">Tagalog Klasiks</span> or <span style="font-style: italic;">Aliwan Komiks</span>.<br /><br />I think every Pinoy must have had acquired a taste of this ubiquitous snack, especially as it is sold in every street corner by our same <span style="font-style: italic;">Balut</span> vendor. In Sari-sari stores, the <span style="font-style: italic;">kropek</span> is among the bestsellers, especially on Sundays, when many Pinoy <span style="font-style: italic;">istambays</span>, hard of cash, prefer it as<span style="font-style: italic;"> pulutan </span>with the Tanduay, over the slightly more expensive <span style="font-style: italic;">chicharong baboy</span>.<br /><br />With the numerous arrivals of foreign-branded snacks like Pringles or Pik-nik, I still prefer the lowly kropek, especially if paired with a bottle of Cosmos or Mirinda. Although some older people would have preferred a <span style="font-style: italic;">sarsaparilla.</span>Dennis Villegashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14233133682413799988noreply@blogger.com7