Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Wala na si Ka Bel

Pumanaw na si Rep. Crispin "Ka Bel" Beltran, lider-manggagawa, kongresista, ama, asawa, kasama.

Mahirap sumahin ang buhay at pakikibaka ni Ka Bel, haligi ng militante at palabang kilusang manggagawa. Estudyante pa ako, si Ka Bel na ang simbolo ng pagkakaisa at tindig ng mga manggagawa. Kaya noong mag-thesis ako, walang dalawang-isip, labor ang paksa.

Hindi ko makakalimutan si Ka Bel. Magiliw sya, palabiro, malambing, magaan kausap. Walang ere, walang iniinda, tunay na lider ng masa.

Kapag kinamayan ka nya, tuloy akbay, ganun nya minahal ang mga manggagawa at ganundin nya kinalinga ang mga kasama.

"Ayan ha, ito ang una kong public appearance pagkalaya ko!" Sabi nya noong pinaunlakan nya ang porum ng aming upisina tungkol sa tubig, ilang minuto lang pagkalipas syang "palayain" ng gubyernong Arroyo. Si Ka Bel talaga, sya na nga ang nagbigay karangalan sa aming porum sa kabila ng kanyang hapit na kalagayan, pakiramdam pa rin nya ay magtatampo kami kung hindi sya dadating.

Mahigit 30 dekadang tinugis, inapi, pinatahimik, kinulong, hinaras si Ka Bel ng reaksyunaryong estado. Pwede na sana syang namatay sa torture, assassination, physical injuries, sa kulungan, o sa sakit dulot ng karahasan ng estado.

"Bakit daw?!" galit kong tanong

"Nalaglag sa bubong." Sagot ng kausap ko.

Noong mabalitaan ko kung paano pumanaw si Ka Bel, kahit isang sandali ay hindi nabawasan ang paghanga at pagpuri ko sa kanya bilang bayani ng sambayanang Pilipino. Ang paraan ng kanyang pagpanaw ay simbolo ng kanyang komitment sa buhay at pakikibaka ng anakpawis.

Paalam, Ka Bel. Tuloy ang pakikibaka!

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Survivor Caramoan, Epilogue

The other day, news featured Caramoan, now dubbed as the next Boracay. No less than the lucky bitch (President Arroyo herself) was in Gota beach, wearing her tacky summer dress, meeting the Survivor cast and crew, and accompanied by the tourism secretary Ace Durano who was wearing shorts a la Indiana Jones.

Mayor Cordial was also interviewed on TV. This time, unlike during our visit when he was broken for being bypassed, he seemed happy to note that development was coming his way. I wonder how he was finally convinced by the President, but he cannot ignore the fact that fishermen in Caramoan have been complaining that they can no longer fish in the bays because of the closure of Gota beach and neighboring islands.

President Arroyo has gone on a natural resources/tourism mega-sale, and Caramoan is her current flavor. Will the people of Caramoan survive the onslaught? If she will not stop her whoring, she might be the one not surviving her illegitimate term.

Survivor Caramoan, Part 2

We pitched our tents right on top of the hill, the island’s highest point, which affords a great view of the sea, neighboring islands, the house, our beach, and partly Catanduanes island.


We cooked dinner, changed from wet to warm clothes, took photos of the rising full moon, mixed gin and tonic, and enjoyed conversations with the councilor, a friend he picked up during our island hopping, and the mother of the only household in our island who cooked us fish and sweet potatoes. We were lamenting how development could spoil Caramoan while our hosts on the contrary were excited about the prospect. Generally we were having fun … until it rained, and rained so hard, and rained till dawn.

We slept (or held on to the concept of sleep) with puddles inside our tents. We had to synchronize how to “toss and turn” to survive the night. Upon sunrise (or the illusion of it), we ‘woke up’ (or simply decided to get up and out of our tents) and started to salvage rain-soaked food. While preparing breakfast, Mango, Mai and I were formulating the lessons we’ve learned.

The view from our campsite, with the reluctant sunrise

Lesson No. 1. It was a mistake to share campsite with a carabao. We had puddles of mud inside our tents.

Lesson No. 2. Never trust the councilor when he says it won’t rain while he’s having fun. He walked on the sand bar going home, by the way.

Lesson No. 3. Always trust the mayor when he offers his place, he knows the weather.

Lesson No. 4. A boy scout can really read a map. Mango’s dad, a scout master, warned us that travel and island hopping would take much of our time, so better settle in the first island we find.

Lesson No. 5. Mother knows best when she tells you to bring sugar. We were bringing 3 in 1 coffee, so we didn’t listen to Mango’s mom. The sugar could have come in handy for the sweet potatoes.

Anyway, photo-ops will do the trick! Show and tell our friends that we enjoyed….

We broke camp and sailed at 8 a.m. to catch the last boat going back to Sabang at 11 a.m. Our island friends were sad to see us off and wished that we would go back to Caramoan soon and often. On one hand, we were secretly sad to see their excitement over the prospect of developing Caramoan as the next Boracay.

It’s a pity that we ended up the ones not remembering the names of the islands and beaches we went to. But since Mango and Mai were able to do their ‘morning ritual’ after breakfast (first time in the outdoors for Mai, no big deal for Mango), we are calling our island for now and before so-called development takes over, the “Prut-Prut Island”.

View of Prut-Prut Island from our boat

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Survivor Caramoan, Part 1

We were thinking of having vacations in unexplored getaways with names our friends would not even be able to pronounce. Mango extended this invitation to trailblaze the “unexplored” Caramoan Peninsula, a group of islands at the tip of Camarines Sur, Bicol region, and to host the expedition in Albay (her hometown) with a side trip (take note, just a side trip) to the world-famous Donsol in Sorsogon, the migratory route of whalesharks locally known as butanding.

The prospect of Caramoan alone made Sam, Ems and Mai brag to their friends who turned green with envy. Caramoan, it turns out, is not that unfamiliar – everyone has already heard of the place, no one is brave enough just yet to wander far from the comforts of Boracay or Galera.

We really didn’t have plans to be uncomfortable ourselves. To save exploration time, we decided to experience Caramoan exactly the way it was described in a blog we tumbled upon. Plagiarize – guess that’s the classic tourism strategy – read the brochures, read the write-ups, relive the blogs, copy the postcards…

But it was a mistake to plagiarize. First of all, we did not end up in the more famous Gota beach. Caramoan has several beaches, islands and islets, and you can just choose your own island like create your own fantasy, pitch tent, camp, swim and explore your island. Since we followed the blog, we looked for Gota beach, but the place was closed for the shooting of the international reality show, Survivor.

What to do next? Island politics dictates that you go straight to the mayor. We raised issues like public land being closed for private use, lack of community consultation, development aggression, blah, blah, blah. But the mayor, bypassed by the governor, just sighed, short of saying “I’m the victim here.”

Anyway, the mayor instructed his councilor to lend us his boat and guide us to the mayor’s island. That started our great misadventures and shift to survival mode.


We were sailing for about an hour when we decided to have lunch in the councilor’s island.

Then we dropped our things in the mayor’s island and sailed again, touring the peninsula and searching for our perfect island.


Finally we decided to take a dip in an island with only one house, a carabao atop a hill, and a wide sand bar that connects the island to another island and that you can walk on during low tide.

We decided to stay. Mango and I had to go back to the mayor’s island to get our things while the rest explored the hill where we would pitch our tents.

That's me on the boat, waiting for Mango. Postcard-perfect? Well, that was the calm before the storm!