Monday, March 18, 2013

It's all in the name


THE CANDIDATE for Pampanga’s first congressional district seat, other than the comebacking Francis “Blueboy” Nepomuceno, is not named Joseller “Yeng” Guiao.
That is, if we go by the stories coming out of the hustings.
 “Paciencia, ya pu ing lagyu ning kalaban yu (Paciencia is the name of your opponent).” So was a surprised Blueboy told in a caucus in Barangay Sapang Bato, Angeles City.
“Ala ya pung asabi kekami nune pasensiya na kami mu uling ala yang abiye, andat lalapit ke kaya (He has nothing to say but ask for our patience and understanding as he cannot give us anything whenever we approach him).” So the barrio folk explained to an amused Blueboy.
Paciencia, eh?
In Barangay Mamatitang, Mabalacat City, residents say the fight is between Nepomuceno and a certain Paras.
Paras who?
Again, a puzzled Blueboy could only put any sense to this after he was told, thus: “Nanu man pu ing ilapit mi kaya, metung mu ing pakibat na: ‘Paras ku kang Nanay Gov yan’ (Whatever concern we take to him, he has only one answer: ‘I will make sure it will reach the Governor’).”
Paras, indeed!
In Barangay Camias, Magalang, the hometown boy fighting Blueboy is named Yabut.
No, no, no. Blueboy had to be assured: Perennial House daydreamer Ric Yabut, board member from Candaba, has not decamped from the fourth district and set residency in the first.
Why Yabut?
“Pilan beses na ke pung linapit kaya, ala ya pung amanu kekami nune ‘Ipayabut ku kang Nanay Gov ing adwan yu’ (The many times we sought his help, he had nothing to say but ‘I will bring it up to the Governor).”  
Ah, Yabut!
Collectively now: Why is he running for congressman when all he can do is to transmit to the Governor the needs and concerns of the constituents of the first district? That is the role exclusive to a lowly factotum.
Paciencia Paras Yabut, official candidate of Kambilan Party for representative of the 1st District of Pampanga.
Yes, a Yeng by any other name still spells… whatever.
To the double visionary of Mabalacat City, Deng Pangilinan, it starts with a capital L, referring to the outcome of the elections.
To the astute Ashley Manabat, it begins with a D, associated with summer and the (in)capacity for giving.      
On the other hand, Nepomuceno’s given name, Francis, has got it going for him.
Of all the Johns, Gregories, Benedicts, Celements. Leos, Innocents, and Piuses on offer, Jorge Mario Cardinal Bergoglio had to choose Francis!
What better augury for the election results in the first district than this!
It’s all in the name. So shall we hear now shouts of Habemus victorem!
We have a winner! So shall we. So shall we.















       

Il papa Gesuita

“ANNUNTIO VOBIS gaudium magnum: habemus papam.”

Again to the pealing of bells reverberated March 13, from across St. Peter’s Square to the all the corners of the world the age-old tidings of great joy: We have a pope!
A Jesuit pope, OMG!
So quick are the end-of-world doomsayers to cry: ‘Prophesy fulfilled!”
By being a Jesuit, Jorge Mario Cardinal Bergoglio now Pope Francis fits some “black pope” hearsay if not heresy as the last in the line of Peter. This directly taken from the derogatory moniker appended to the Jesuit superior general: “Black Pope” said to have been derived from the order’s garb of black cassock in the past centuries (they have since wore white ones), and the “storied power” of the Jesuits within the Church. Most probably though from the fact that the superior general of the Society of Jesus is elected for life. Just like the pope – now reduced to presumption in the light of Benedict XVI’s resignation.    
Rather than indulge – and waste time – in conspiracy theories and doomsday scenarios, I would rather seek to know more about the persona of my novus Pontifex Maximus. Even as I pray for him, for his blessed pontificate for the good of Mother Church.
Lacking in personal contact, so I shall resort to the next best way to know about him, indeed to learn him. By his words. For as a man, so much more as a prince of the Church, his word is his honor.
Thus, Cardinal Bergoglio – at least some of his words – then from the web:
First on the secular front, I readily find connection with.
On politics: "Politics is a noble activity. We should revalue it, practise it with vocation and a dedication that requires testimony, martyrdom, that is to die for the common good."
Some totally alien, aye, indeed, very strange, thought there given Philippine political praxis.
Some resonance in the current Sabah situation we find in then-Cardinal Bergoglio’s Mass in April 2, 2012 on the 30th anniversary of the failed Argentine invasion of the Falklands which they claimed as their Islas Malvinas: "We come to pray for all who have fallen, sons of the homeland who went out to defend their mother, the homeland, and to reclaim what is theirs, that is of the homeland, and it was usurped."
The Sultanate of Sulu readily finds some solace there. 
In the light of the scandals that surrounded the Roman curia, the governing body of the Church: "I see it as a body that gives service, a body that helps me and serves me. Sometimes negative news does come out, but it is often exaggerated and manipulated to spread scandal.”
Leading to his take of media: “Journalists sometimes risk becoming ill from coprophilia and thus fomenting coprophagia: which is a sin that taints all men and women, that is, the tendency to focus on the negative rather than the positive aspects."
For those who have no inkling of what those strange terms meant, cocrophilia refers to obsessive interest in excrement, especially the use of feces for sexual excitement; coprophagia is the consumption of feces. That’s taking bullshit to the literal, aye, gustatorial extreme.
We leave the muck there and proceed to the realm of the ecclesial.
To priests: "Jesus teaches us another way: Go out. Go out and share your testimony, go out and interact with your brothers, go out and share, go out and ask. Become the Word in body as well as spirit."
Evangelization and social reformation, I very well see there. Further highlighted thus: "We need to avoid the spiritual sickness of a church that is wrapped up in its own world: when a church becomes like this, it grows sick. It is true that going out on to the street implies the risk of accidents happening, as they would to any ordinary man or woman. But if the church stays wrapped up in itself, it will age. And if I had to choose between a wounded church that goes out on to the streets and a sick, withdrawn church, I would definitely choose the first one."
And then some more, with modern means:
"We also try to reach out to people who are far away, via digital means, the web and brief messaging."
Of today's Catholicism: "This Church of, come inside so we make decisions and announcements between ourselves and those who don't come in, don't belong" he likened to the Pharisees of Christ's time: "People who congratulate themselves while condemning others." Remember Luke 18:9-14, the Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican?
No parable now, but real cases of pharisaic hypocrisy: "In our ecclesiastical region there are priests who don't baptise the children of single mothers because they weren't conceived in the sanctity of marriage. These are today's hypocrites. Those who clericalise the church. Those who separate the people of God from salvation. And this poor girl who, rather than returning the child to sender, had the courage to carry it into the world, must wander from parish to parish so that it's baptised!"
Bonfiring vanity thus: "An example I often use to illustrate the reality of vanity, is this: look at the peacock; it's beautiful if you look at it from the front. But if you look at it from behind, you discover the truth … Whoever gives in to such self-absorbed vanity has huge misery hiding inside them."
His choice of papal name – Francis, connected to the 13th century saint from Assisi known as the very embodiment of humility – bespeaking of the then-Cardinal’s own “littleness” – eschewing the archbishop’s palace for a small apartment, riding clattering city buses, making his own meals, and accessibility to people from all walks of life.
As he is reported to have reminded priests in one of his sermons last year: Jesus bathed lepers and dined with prostitutes and taxmen.
His papal name also impacted from another Francis – Xavier, one of the 16th century founders of the Society of Jesus to which he belonged, the religious order famously known for its scholarship and outreach.
There, by his very name, we may already be looking at the path of Francis’ Petrine ministry.
Gaude, populum Dei, habemus papam!
 (Published in Punto! Central Luzon March 15, 2013)

Wednesday, March 06, 2013

And you'll still make her senator?


"WE WERE sent here to look out for our fellow Americans in the same way they look out for one another every single day, usually without fanfare all across the country.
"We should follow the example of a New York City nurse named Menchu Sanchez. When Hurricane Sandy plunged her hospital into darkness, she wasn't thinking about how her own home was faring. Her mind was on the 20 precious newborns in her care and the rescue plan she devised that kept them all safe."
Thus immortalized US President Barack Obama in his State of the Union Address the Filipina nurse at New York University's Langone Medical Center.
Seated in the viewing box with First Lady Michelle Obama, Sanchez occupied a place of honor reserved for "extraordinary Americans who exemplify the themes and ideals laid out in the State of the Union Address."
By honouring Sanchez, Obama in effect elevated to the high pedestal of honor, indeed of heroism, all Filipina nurses.
Really now, what greater accolade can ever come upon our nurses than that given by the President of the most powerful nation on Earth?
Inversely now, what worse damnation can ever come upon our nurses than that spat upon by one of our own?
Yeah, methinks now: Like the prophets of yore, nurses are not honoured in their own country.
Rather, not honoured by their lawmakers.
Or to be most specific, verily dishonoured by senatorial wannabe and once congresswoman Cynthia Villar.
Gone viral now, getting millions of hits is the Team PNoy’s bet’s stand in the Pagsubok sa mga Kandidato aired over GMA 7, to wit:
“…Actually, hindi naman kailangan ang nurse ay matapos ng BSN (Bachelor of Science in Nursing), kasi itong ating mga nurses, gusto lang nilang maging ‘room nurse.’ Sa America or sa other countries, ano lang sila, yung parang mag-aalaga. Hindi naman sila kailangan ganoon kagaling…”
Gone viral now too, is the universal backlash, with Villar getting millions of hits – in the head. Rightly so.
“Room Nurse.” Is that what RN has come to mean? To be “mere” caregivers requires neither a nursing degree nor even some rudimentary skill. That is how abysmal is Villar’s (dis)regard of our nurses.
No explanation, no rationalization can provide any justification for Villar’s condescension, aye, for Villar’s damnation of the Filipino nurse, reduced as she/he was to the dumb stereotype only the highhandedness, haughtiness, indeed, arrogance of a power-drunk egoist could conjure.
And no amount of apology could salve the pain of the humiliation inflicted by Villar on all Filipino nurses.
And she wants to be senator?
Says a nurse taking care of mental patients: Actually, hindi naman kailangan ang senador ay may utak, kasi itong ating mga senador gusto lang nilang matawag ng ‘honorable.’ Ano lang sila, yung parang mag-aastang may laman ang ulo. Hindi naman sila kailangan ganoon kagaling…”    
And we still ask what’s happening to this country?

Friday, March 01, 2013

Beating the bullet


WHAT GROWS out of the barrel of a gun?
Political power.
Every communist knows this by heart, if not by rote. Even if his/her “little red book” has turned syphilitic yellow with age.
Bullets birth tyrannies. Bullets too exterminate tyrannies. Live by the gun. Die by the gun. And the karmic cycle continues.
Ballots birth democracies. Ballots nurture democracies. Ballots take democracies to full maturity.
Win by the ballot. Rule through the ballot. Lose by the ballot. Fade away from the democratic stage. Or return, again through the ballot. 
As tyrannies anathemize democracies, so bullets are a curse too to ballots.
Bullets. Ballots. Contradictions – dialectical, diametrical, moral.
Abraham Lincoln summed this thus: “To give victory to the right, not bloody bullets, but peaceful ballots only, are necessary.”
It brings to mind the campaign for the snap presidential elections of 1986. Of two streamers strung along a road in Zamboanga City –   
Cory, isang bala ka lang! said the first – obviously a take from a Fernando Poe Jr. movie.
Marcos, isang balota ka lang! came the retort.
Great reminders there in time with the EDSA anniversary. Anyways…
Pampanga 3rd District Rep. Aurelio “Dong” Gonzales has long been toiling to impact his name in the people’s mind – via his accomplishments in the socio-economic sphere of his domain – for imprinting in their ballots come May 13.
DONG – in big bold black letters – is printed on white bond paper folded in a brown envelope with five live M-16 bullets. Left at the gate of the congressman’s former close-in security aide.
Threats. Harassment. Intimidation. Through bullets.
Hindi ito ang pinasukan ko (This is not the world I entered). Cong Dong’s political engagement revolves around some “new picture of politics based on relevant issues that uplift the lives of my constituents.” So he says.
“This is now my worry. That’s my fear.” He says of possible desperation – at this early in the game – that could drive someone go any which way to win. At whatever cost. Using here the analogy of the outpunched and outpointed Mike Tyson biting off the ear of clearly winning Evander Holyfield.
Unfazed. Unintimidated. That is Cong Dong, managing to play the five live bullets like matchsticks in his hands.      
Lalu kung pasiknan ing kampanya ku 500 percent (I will even increase my campaigning 500 percent). Cong Dong vowed to reach – and serve – as many of his constituents as humanly possible. The bullets be damned!
He’s taking the threat seriously though. As indeed, he must.
There’s no knowing when the threating ends and the doing begins.
Yeah, live bullets are no more than threats.
But spent shells are a totally different morbid matter. 
A loud bang makes all the difference.