The other side of the moon

There's no official proclamation yet, but they might as well paint the city red. It seems that Zamboanga chose comfort over change, the old over the new. I don't like it one bit. But one can you do? This is what it is to live in a democracy.

Like a badge of honor

I can't say that I'm pleased with how Zamboanga's local election turned out. I am not pleased. Words cannot describe the feelings of disappointment and incredulity that have mingled to form a bitter taste behind my throat. How could people, for one minute, think of electing local officials who have done nothing for the years that they have been in public service except for wave at the crowd during city events? As if appearing in public functions is equal to public service.

What we will have, once proclamation is done and over with, are the same lethargic councilors who have done nothing to invigorate this city from its slump. Given their track records - or lack of it - they will continue to do nothing. Zamboanga may well sleep forever and be forgotten in the wastelands.

It also sucks that my mayoralty bet didn't win. Still, I could live with having 3 more years of Lobregat rule. The mayor has done his fair share for Zamboanga, and he's got something to show for it. Losing, in any form, sucks balls, so this is nothing personal.

What I find harder to swallow, though, is having a vice mayor who has nothing. I have no idea what he's done, what he intends to do and how he intends to do it. Soon to be declared Vice Mayor Ituralde may have some unknown aces up his sleeve, but that's just the point. Who knows about it? His smile is not reassuring, his constantly closed office (yes, constantly closed. I visited the Sangguniang Panglungsod quite a number of times and his office was always closed) does not speak of a person who is an achiever. The vice mayor roster was not particularly attractive, yes, but sir, I'm sorry, but you are not the best man for this job.

I guess what I'm most disappointed about is that Zamboanga did not make the most out of this opportunity. It did not dare to do something different. Which is why it is no different to what it was before.

So now what? What else is left except for the hope that somehow, no matter how strongly I disagree, this city made the right choice in choosing their leaders.

But this time, I'd like to be more vigilant. I'd like to see what our elected officials will do in the coming years, now so more than ever, with every city in Mindanao catching up and leaving Zamboanga behind in the progress race.

The joke is on this city. We vote, not on merit, but on popularity. And money. We want to see progress. And when we don't get it from our officials, we turn to each other and say "I told you so." Then, come next election, we vote for you again. To our officials, please make me sing a different tune next time. Please give me reason to believe. Bring it.

This year's election meant more than just a change of leadership. For me, it was an opportunity, the opportunity. I had high hopes for this election, and I was more than excited to be part of the country's historic first. Instead, all my expectations have fallen flat.

Tough luck.

Manila, the second act/Getting through the curtain

I was supposed to have had written this post last week. But whatever. I was a wreck when I left for Manila and still was when I came back to Zamboanga a week later. February was an extremely hectic month, with deadlines, rotating power interruptions and fickle-minded bosses adding to the stress of organizing a global launching event.

We arrived in Manila on a Sunday, which is quite lovely since I get OT points travelling on weekends. And that's about the only lovely thing I can remember. Everything went downhill from there. We left a bag full of money, checks and contracts in Zamboanga Airport's departure lounge. The office was closed for fumigation and fogging. We couldn't stay there because, yes, you will die when you stay behind a fogging. The chain holding the ceremonial agong broke. I got stuck inside one of Solair's tiny bathrooms and had to destroy public property to call for help.

Hell starts here.

These series of events did not sit well with my already stretched-out nerves. But as Ms. Cuchie philosophically enthused, better to get all the bad luck out of the system now than later. And that it did. Our launch event was a success. I was tired, hungry and battered beyond functionality but I was happy, more so when my boss congratulated me for a job well done.

Things definitely started to pick up after our event. For one, I could eat again! I stuffed myself with desserts from the breakfast buffet - parfait, chocolate cake, mango crepe, ice cream. Deciding that I had to affirm my dreams of going to Japan, I dared the sushi buffet and ate my first sushi and raw salmon.

RAW.

The hotel we were staying in was pretty posh, situated right smack in busy Makati and just in front of Greenbelt 3. Not exactly shopping central for a pauper like myself. The whole place reeked of eye-candy and, for some reason, smelled of soap. I saw my fair share of stars, Greenbelt being the high-end place that it was: Heart Evangelista, Marc Nelson and Nonito Donaire. Of the three, I was most tempted to approach Donaire, but I couldn't muster the bravado. /wrist

I managed to find an SM, but it was a disappointment. No Comic Alley there. I found Power Books in Glorietta, taking care of my reading needs, but for the first time ever, no anime. Sad, sad day.

Glorietta at night.

I had finally accepted the fact that I was going to spend my last day in Makati alone, when my friend, Penny, managed to drop by despite her busy schedule at work. We made our way to Greenbelt's cinema and did the one thing I was absolutely itching to do, pestering all my classmates in the process - watch Alice in Wonderland. In its full 3D glory. Another giddy moment for me.

300 smackeroos. And worth every penny.

And just like that, everything was over and I had to go back home - not as flashy as Makati, but home nonetheless.

Anyhow, I'm all but blank this week. I've expended so much neurons and dopamine last February that until now, I still can't get my act together. Out of whack until the next trip comes along.

Pretty hotel lamp deserves a photo, yes?

Where do you expect us to go when the bombs fall?

A month ago, a bomb exploded, followed by another, early in the morning in the city. Thankfully, there were no casualties and no injuries, except for a couple of park bouganvillas gone to flower heaven. The incident hardly caused a fuss among Zamboanguenos. It hardly made the evening news, too. Some didn’t even know what happened.

Which goes to show how used we Zamboanguenos are to this kind of life. The worst bombing incident in this city happened when I was in high school. Bombs exploded in the middle of the commercial district, killing dozens and injuring millions. When you live in such a volatile area, you get used to walking around with eyes in your back. As time goes by, you develop a kind of bravura exclusive only to those who live in no-man’s land – a polished, sort of nonchalance, a frightening normalcy in the midst of chaos.

When the latest bombing happened, everyone went to work as usual. No holiday was declared. Just another day in Zamboanga. Doesn’t mean we weren’t scared. When things like these happen, you get scared and you think of the future. You think of things – the what-ifs, that car you wanted to buy, the book you haven’t read, the health insurance leads you were thinking of following up, your dream job. A couple of my friends have even thought of moving to another city with a more secure peace and order situation.

Whatever happens, though, we go on. The things that happen in this city do not define the people who live in it. Sure, we get scared. But we do the best we can with what we have.

And we hope for a better day tomorrow, where bombs don't fall anymore.

Last stock at size 35

Today, I was supposed to register for an exam, a part of a great plan to give my life a little nudge and direction. For the first time in years, I went back to the Ateneo and still felt like the outsider on campus. I went to the Center for Testing office, pretended to be more confident than I really was and found out that they ran out of registration forms and could I please just come back on Monday when they would probably have another batch of it. And oh, that the Php 500 was just my registration fee and the actual testing fee was actually Php 1,400.

I was pretty depressed when I left campus so I decided to wile my time away in town. I’m a certified couch potato, so I don’t usually roam the city streets. But my spirit was at such a low point that being home and watching the local Saturday noontime shows was not going to do my mood any good.

It didn’t take me long to explore the market goods and to realize what a commercial void Zamboanga City is. One block of stores and you’ve seen them all.

While I love Zamboanga City with all my heart, it depresses me to know that I have to import the stuff I want from other cities. Our one big mall does not have variety; all other department stores look and smell the same. We’ve got tons of small Asian-ish stores that sell second-hand apparel, factory-reject toys and trinkets. And in all those things I see the faces of the Boys over Flowers cast winking/pouting/brooding/making a cutesy peace sign at me. Not that I don’t appreciate the fact Filipinos are embracing our Asian neighbors, and in the process, our Asian heritage, for that matter. It’s just so Meteor Garden all over again.

On top of that, we have no decent bookstore to speak of at all. I deplore the non-existence of an SM in my city, the existence of which will automatically bring the National Bookstore in its wake. That, and a variety of novelty shops that will satisfy my anime and DVD vices.

The thing is, with such limited shopping choices and opportunities, people get boxed in with the conventional and we get boring and rusty and dumb and retarded. There’s nothing in our stores that would wake up a weary 23-year-old mind, like say, a good book, a creative nook to hang out in or a store that encourages expression and artistry with their wares. Stores are not just there to bring merchandise: they’re supposed to bring ideas, create a vibrant environment teeming with movement and chances.

I guess what I want to say is that stores, and for that matter, shopping, be it actual or plain window-shopping, should be fun. Today’s shopping experience was far from fun. It was really kind of dreary.

For some reason, holistically keeps popping in my head. Now that is a word positively drenched in Atenean philosophy. If I shop, I need to shop not just for food and clothes, but for things that will make me holistically whole.

So please, let’s see some progress here. I love this city too much to leave it for the greener pastures of Cebu and Manila. To our local officials, please do your thing and work, like you’re supposed to. We hope to see you working, not hanging around in city events, hoping to get a bit of free airtime on tv. Please, Chinese Chambers of Commerce, stop being such a pushover. Don’t be afraid to go out and tussle in a little healthy competition. Start wrasslin’ your way to profits in this great democratic market that we have. Before I lose my mind window-shopping my weekends away.

Painting Zamboanga RED

A habit of perennial lateness made me miss the mass gathering of support in City Hall against the inclusion of Zamboanga City in the BJE (Bangsamoro Judicial Entity).

Inside information revealed, however, that a great number of people in red attended, and that it moved a certain classmate of mine to tears. In attendance that morning were representatives from Basilan and the Governor Hoffer of Zamboanga Sibugay.

I arrived in town, wearing red, of course. In the heart of the city, half of the population were in red. Whether or not the said populace willingly or unwillingly knew the significance of red today remains to be seen. Those who could not wear red wrapped red ribbons around their elbows.

By 11 AM, stores and establishments around the city temporarily halted business operations to show their support. No one forced them to close their establishments; that would have undermined the principles of democracy that we so value, the same principles the government claims to uphold yet so blatantly disregards with the advent of the MOA for the BJE.

The people of Zamboanga can disagree on a lot of things. Heck, they can be really apathetic people sometimes. Many still were ignorant of the issue, others chose to ignore. Still, others chose to watch Wowowee instead of the local news showing the protest of the city. I wonder why Mayor chose the color RED for today's protest (party color?).

I hope and pray for peace in Zamboanga. May PGMA realize that selling Zamboanga and the other territories to these militant and separatist groups will not achieve peace. Madam President was given the power over the country and its 1,707 islands for her to uplift and improve lives and NOT to use them as bargaining chips for to buff up her political image. There will be hell to pay. Why don't you try including the cities of Luzon in the BJE and see what happens.

Viva Zamboanga!