New People's Park, Through the Eyes of Housemate Janice

The Gods Must Be Angry

Something very interesting happened last Sunday. I may have mentioned before that the controversial company Hedcor is building a hydro-electric power plant in the heart of Mount Apo. Last Sunday, one of their bulldozers slipt into the ravine during a landslide...

Why is this interesting? Well, Hedcor has been criticized for a number of things. Environmentalists fear that the construction of roads, the building of a dam and the divergence of water from the Sibulan and Baroring rivers are going to affect the whole ecological balance of Mount Apo. One of the consequences of clearing an area is that the soil becomes prone to erosion and land slides. Having one of your bulldozers topple into the ravine during heavy rain is - to say the least - bad publicity for a company that claims its project does not harm the environment.

The incident is also interesting because it strenghtens the conviction of the indigenous people that the gods are angry. Because Hedcor is building its plant on sacred ground, it is messing with the gospel and challenging the gods. The torn of the gods is called 'gaba' in Bagobo.

But the most interesting thing about the whole matter is how everyone sees his truth reflected in this event. Even if the whole matter is just a simple twist of faith, people will attribute meaning to it. It keeps the discussion alive, doesn't it? By the way, no one got hurt in the incident, fortunately.

Bayad na lang

Can everyone be corrupted? It's a good question and I really don't know what to answer to it. I guess we are all prone to a bit of fraud every now and then. It's just a matter of degree, perhaps. In the Philippines, corruption is a huge issue. It is deeply rooted in society and it often seems as though structures are designed to be corrupted.

First example. Imagine driving home on the highway after a trip. There's a lively discussion in the car and you somehow fail to notice the light has turned red. A policeman spotted you and gesters you to pull over. If you play by the rules, your license will be taken from you, you will have to pay a fine and you'll have to attend a whole-day seminar. If you pay the policemen, you get off cheap and you have none of the hassle. The policeman's salary is low and he smells some good pocket money. What do you do? The whole situation has "likely to be corrupted" written all over it, but if you howl with the wolves, you are of course supporting corruption and keeping it alive.

Second example. An NGO has a whole-day seminar about local governance. One of the issues is corruption. Everyone agrees that corruption is hampering the progress in development work as so many government officials use badly needed funds for their own benefit. The next day, a naive volunteer asks where he can take a course to get a motorcycle driver's license. His colleague in the NGO immediatley replies: "don't bother with the course, just buy a license. It'll be so much quicker."

It makes me come back to my initial question. I think everyone can be corrupted to some extent, but it becomes dangerous if corruption is so easy and so prevalent that you would have to be silly to resist it. People also see large-scale frauds at high levels as an apology for their own little everyday corruption, I guess. Poverty also adds to it. High morals standards are very nice if you have no trouble getting food on the table.

One of my favourite short stories, by the way, is Mark Twain's "The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg". If you ever get the chance to read it, be sure to do so!

Text na lang

In the Philippines, your mobile phone is your life line. Without it, you cease to exist. Your social world is locked inside the memory of your cell phone. If you lose it, you will have to start from scratch. On the bright side, as long as you have an extensive list of contacts in your cell phone, you'll never be alone.

The magic word is 'load'. 'Load' is the amount of credit you have left on your account and, consequently, the number of messages you can still send. Filipinos are always looking for load. If they don't have it, they will send special free messages to their friends asking to 'pass-a-load'. If they have load, they will spend it in the blink of an eye.

It's nice if you have a purpose in texting someone, but it's surely not necessary. Sometimes, you get a message from a complete stranger early in the morning that reads 'Hi'. If you take the challenge, you're in for a game of 'find out who this is' that can go on for quite some time.

Texting is a great social leveller. Basically, if you can get hold of someone's number, that entitles you to text that person. If you would ever manage to get the president's number, don't hesitate: text na lang. You never know if she replies... After all, during her last state of the nation, she said that texting is a way of life and tried to ease the pains of our faltering economy by reducing the price of a text message by one half. Where else than in the Philippines would a president even dare to come up with that?

Some people know each other only through texting. So-called text gangs grow from people passing on numbers to other people, passing it on to other people... If you ever get involved in this, you'll be answering text messages for the rest of the day.

It's easy to get addicted to texting, and I must admit I have also fallen for it. It's cheap and it gives you something to do while your in a jeepney or on a bus or just turning thumbs at home. And above all, it keeps you virtually connected to people you may never meet again in real life.

Filipina Maaike

De laatste drie weken hadden we bezoek van Maaike, een Belgische vriendin van collega-vrijwilliger Frithjof. Haar bezoek was in veel opzichten een frisse wind. Het is interessant om op te trekken met iemand wiens ogen nog nieuw zijn. Het doet me beseffen dat ik ondertussen echt al een hele tijd hier ben. Haar verwondering was de mijne van enkele maanden terug. Ook zij liep eerst verloren in een grote stad met weinig structuur en vreemde verwijzingen op de jeepneys... En toch leek het steeds alsof ze al veel langer hier was. Bij deze een foto van Filipina-Maaike, in the middle of nowhere...

Kadayawan

This week was Kadayawan week in Davao City. Kadayawan is a week-long festival celebrating the culture of the indigenous peoples in and around Davao ('dayaw' means 'to praise'). The event is supposed to empower indigenous peoples to express their culture in a city setting showing that indigenous culture is alive and kicking. The intention is good, I don't doubt that. But why did I get the feeling that I was watching tricks in a zoo?

To start with, the kadayawan's 'praise' of indigenous culture does not cut very deep. It is all about dancing, dressing up and eating unusual foods. Cultural diversty is a hot issue in the Philippines, but the Kadayawan plays it safe. What harm can there be in a dance, what threat in a colourful costume, what subversion in a picture taken with a 'real Lumad' in his 'real traditional house'? Funny enough, the Kadayawan is - apart from museums - the only place where you will see this abundance of traditional articrafts. Go to Mount Apo, and you'll be hard-pressed to find anything of the clothes, instruments or artwork for sale by the masses in Davao. It is staged culture. I asked one of the girls who was waiting to perform a dance from what community she was. She poked her friend in the side asking "hey, Candy, what tribe are we again?". The dancers are high-school kids who made the dresses and learned the dances in school. I think it is a nice idea to learn young people indigenous dances, but where are the people they are supposed to represent?

I'm not saying that the Kadayawan doesn't have a positive value, it's just that it represents indigenous peoples the way we would like to see them. Not as people in modern suits waving the Philippine constitution and claiming their rights, but as communities frozen in time, colourful and harmless. As a tourist, you will come home with a sore index finger from taking pictures of all the willing dancers (guilty as charged), but you will not have spotted one bit of living culture.

To be fair, cultural performances are always tricky. It's a thin line from culture to folklore and when the line is crossed, the effect is often ludicrous. One evening we watched a miss-Lumad election in People's Park (seriously). Six girls had to dance in tradional dress (with high heels for the occasion!) and answer one question (in English!) about their culture and the importance of the Kadayawan. I noticed I was not the only one frowning at this.

I am being too harsh, I know. The Kadayawan brings together crowds of people who enjoy the dances, the music, the colours, the food, the ambiance. I too, enjoy it very much. It's nice to walk the streets of Davao at night and be absorbed by the crowd and the multitude of impressions. The children are adorable and the dances area really beautiful. But in a sense it also makes my heart bleed a little. What is going wrong in the dialogue between tradition and modernity that we have to choose between conflict and folklore?

Multatuli

POLICE OFFICER. Mr Judge, this is the man who murdered Barbertje.

JUDGE. That man shall be hanged. How did he do it?

POLICE OFFICER. He cut her into small pieces, and he pickled her.

JUDGE. He did a great wrong. He shall hang.

LOTHARIO. Judge, I did not kill Barbertje! I fed her, I clothed her, I cared for her. There are witnesses to testify that I am a good man, not a murderer.

JUDGE. Man, thou shalt hang! Thou makest thy crime worse by self-satisfaction. It isn’t proper for one who stands accused of something, to call himself a good man.

LOTHARIO. But, judge, there are witnesses who will confirm it. And while I am accused of murder ...

JUDGE. Thou shalt hang! Thou hast cut Barbertje into pieces, thou pickled her, and thou art satisfied with thyself … three capital crimes! … Who art thou, lady?

LADY. I am Barbertje.

LOTHARIO. Thank God! Judge, thou seest that I did not kill her!

JUDGE. Hm ... yes ... so! But the pickling?

BARBERTJE. No judge, he did not pickle me. Instead, he hath been very good to me. He is a really righteous man!

LOTHARIO. Thou hearest, judge, she sayth that I am a good man.

JUDGE. Hm ... so the third crime still stands. Police officer, take this man away, he shall hang. He is guilty of self-satisfaction.

Kind of Blue

I'm gathering 'first times' on a daily basis now, it seems. This morning Frithjof, Maaike and I went on a trip to Small Ligid island for what we thought was going to be a day of snorkling near the coastline. Edgar, a friend of Maya, however suggested that we try the real thing instead: scuba diving! I've been thinking of taking a diving course for some time now, and this was a great opportunity to give it a try. The Philippines is the right place to do it since it has excellent diving spots. It's a funny feeling, breathing underwater, floating on the current. We went as low as 41 feet below the surface and were able to see some colourful fish.

Frithjof getting more than just his feet wet

Who's the new round table knight?

Maaike and Frithjof adapting to Filipino 'picture time': strike a pose!

GMA

On July 28, the Philippine president Gloria Macapagal Arroyo delivered her State of the Nation Address (SONA) to the House of Representatives in Quezon City. We had the privilege of watching the SONA on big screen during a three-day conference called "SIPA". "SIPA" stands for "State of the Indigenous Peoples' Address", a gathering of people from different indigenous groups who have a thing or two to say about Arroyo's policy towards national minorities. "sipa" also means 'kick' in Tagalog, so apparently the conference was meant to be a kick in the ass for Gloria :). The SIPA is a counter-address to the president's SONA to call attention to the plight of indigenous people, many of whom ten years after the passing of the Indigenous Peoples' Rights Act feel their rights exist only on paper. It was an emotional three days for many of the IP's present. It gave them a chance to speak out and to vent their disappointment about the lack of government commitent for indigenous peoples' rights.

The SONA is an important moment in Philippine politics. The president is suppossed to provide the public with objective information about the state of the nation and present new measues to tackle problems. Arroyo's popularity has been in free fall for a long time now and everyone was anxious to hear this year's SONA. Nothwithstanding that, the television broadcast of the SONA first amply focused on the dress of the president and the wives of members of parliament who dress up like moviestars for the occasion. President Arroyo likes a bit of theatre, so during her speech she would have representatives of different population groups stand up and greet the audience. She even got one IP to appear in Congress wearing little more than a piece of cloth to cover his vital parts while thanking her for granting his tribe an ancestral domain title...

Gloria is a peculiar character. She's not a woman of many inches (mubo kaayo siya), but she has a powerful grip on the country and its politics. Her administration has a very bad reputation for being one of the most corrupt in recent history (and believe me, that is saying a lot) and people feel the effects of her import-dependent and export-oriented policy everyday as high prices of food and gasoline hold the population by its throat. Arroyo's middle name 'Macapagal' is therefore sometimes transformed into 'maka-mahal' ("to make expensive"). To be fair, prices are going up everywhere, but the international food and oil crisis hits different nations in different degrees.

Many human rights activists and NGO's are also alarmed by the many extra-judicial killings that took place in recent years. 'GMA' therefore refers not only to the president's initials, but to her whole style of governing. It's difficult for a foreigner to judge the situation in the Philippines but it was certainly interesting to hear the SONA in the presence of Filipinos who are critical of Arroyo's policy. People often feel they are fighting a force they cannot beat, but fortunately a lot of people also believe in the strenghth of their own community resources.