Web log

“Utilize the blog while it is free,” said an editor of a local newspaper a few years back.

I learned to blog almost half a decade ago. First as a depository of my old and not-so-good articles published in some student publications, Voice of Talamban (VOT) and Today’s Carolinian (TC), during my university days on the early and late 1990s.

(I served as editor of VOT, official student publication of the University of San Carlos (USC) College of Engineering and TC, official publication of USC students.)

Now dead, both campus papers demised were also the time of the popularity of web log and online journalism.

Writing for campus paper then was the only visible and effective means for aspiring writers and critical thinkers to propagate their influences, prior to the advent of web log. It could have been different if blog was visible during those days.

Second, as the public figure of several progressive organizations (i.e., Anakbayan) during the late 1990s until the middle of the decade of the first decade of the current century, I wrote the progressive stand of the organization and submitted it to local newspapers for publishing.

So, I needed an online space to ensure a wider audience as well as a depository of published opinion pieces. Hence, the birth of binignitogchopsuey.

Until I realized web log is beyond depository of old and assorted ideas.

Though not often, I write some of my most important commentaries here. Since my exposure and social practice derived from the fact as a political and social activist, most of the articles here are a complete expression of the dialectical relations of economic, political and cultural analysis to issues as complex as societal change and as “shallow” as vacation and traveling.

I am writing this because, lately, I was able to take a look and awed by the elements of blogger.com which I found interactive and provided self-fulfillment.

For example, I found “Stats” as an important tool of my web log to monitor my audience, posts and traffic sources.

Surprised, my audience are scattered in ten countries. Still counting, topping the list is the Philippines with 658 audiences, following the colonial connection the US ranks second with 137. Counting countries instead of individual audience, my blog is present in European countries with Germany - 43, Turkey - 31, Russia - 18, and France and Italy with 15 each.

Latin America is represented by Colombia and Mexico, 20 and 13 audiences respectively. Surprisingly, the presence of China ranks last with 9 audiences. I wonder where my South East Asian readers are.

Most read posts are also included. Page views by Browsers and Operating Systems used provided a detailed statistics.

Like any “lazy” writer, I rarely re-write. I just write in a way that comes naturally, perhaps a glaring limitation of my blog. Not to mention some grammatical, sentence structure and language problems.

Beyond syntax, blogging is serious – dead serious. A blogger should use it to propagate not just the whims and caprices of individuals, but also our collective desires for a truly free and democratic society (and cyberspace) – while it is still “free.”

Coming out

Few days before the entire Christianity will reflect on Jesus Christ passion and resurrection, Ricky Martin, a native of deeply Catholic Mexico, confirmed the long time rumor that he is gay. The world did not lose a nanosecond of standstill. It was a confirmation of a decade-old gossip that he is, in fact, a proud homosexual.

Ah, rumor. Such is a lousy business.

Carefully crafted with full of honesty, he divulged in his website: "Today is my day, this is my time, and this is my moment. These years in silence and reflection made me stronger and reminded me that acceptance has to come from within and that this kind of truth gives me the power to conquer emotions I didn't even know existed ... I am proud to say that I am a fortunate homosexual man. I am very blessed to be who I am."

I don’t know if the acceptance is part of a series of press releases for his memoirs to be published soon to gain popular followers and earned tremendous profit in the process. Whatever the objective of his “coming-out”, it was a testament of bravery and honesty. To move on and be happy, one should sincerely and honestly accept the pain of believing in oneself. Not necessarily to the extent of letting other people salivate on it. Giving in to their pressures, is giving in to their wishes and gender discrimination deepens. It adds salt to the already wounded heart and soul.

Saying that her questioning may have ended his career, Barbara Walters interviewed Ricky Martin almost a decade ago and regretted trying to force (or coerced?) Martin to open up about his sexuality. A month ago, she said: "In 2000, I pushed Ricky Martin very hard to admit if he was gay or not, and the way he refused to do it made everyone decide that he was," she told The Toronto Star. "A lot of people say that destroyed his career, and when I think back on it now, I feel it was an inappropriate question."

And, perhaps in a sighed of disbelief, Walters tells him, "You know, you could stop these rumors. You could say, as many artists have, 'Yes I am gay,' or you could say, 'No I'm not,' or you could leave it, as you are, ambiguous. I don't want to put you on the spot, but it's in your power to do it."

Adel Tamano, a Filipino Muslim and candidate for senator was asked by my favorite anchorwoman about his sexuality. Live on television, my favorite anchorwoman cross-examined the poor Adel like a guilty suspect of a crime he never dreamed of committing, and politely he answered about the gender inquest. The anchorwoman should heed Barbara Walters regretting what she did to Martin.

I doubt if the anchorwoman will do the same thing to Noynoy, a candidate for president, given the fact that Adel is happily married while Noynoy is still a bachelor in his waning years. I haven’t heard anyone suspect Noynoy’s gender orientation just because he doesn’t look like one? It adds discrimination by means of one’s appearance. You don’t appear like one, you are not gay. You appear like one, even if you are not, you are a poor boy.

Typical of being honest, Ricky Martin or Adel Tamano could have asked those who interviewed them if they really are heterosexuals. But they did not. Such is a gift of human kindness and respect towards other people anchored on the basis that we are all one and the same. Equal.

In fact, if they are not cross-examined in public interviews, they are being portrayed as hapless human beings capable of entertaining the crowd in movies and television. What a poor way of self-preservation!

I know for a fact that even discreet individuals are proud of who they are. Who aren’t? Let’s take it from them and let us leave it that way. That is the kind of existence they wish to enjoy and that is the kind of respect they deserved. As long as they did not cross the thin red-line of human-to-human exploitation in all its forms then by all means embrace them like a new born child, incapable of inflicting wounds against anyone.

But the respect that should be showered (accorded is quite masculine, I might as well use the word ‘showered’) to them should be observed. For no one, not even one-self, can force himself/herself to believe that he/she is not, well, a heterosexual or a homosexual.

But the world that we are in is deeply feudal and macho that anything outside of it is exploited.

Gender and sexuality marginalization, discrimination and isolation in whatever form will continue as long as the fundamental and basic unit of its existence will prevail in our day to day life. In order for us to confront gender and sexual discrimination objectively, it is correct to fight gender discrimination on the basis of deeply rooted economic liberation hand in hand with other oppressed and exploited sectors and classes. For it will not only liberate an individual from the clutches of economic slavery, it will provide an all round cultural and political advancement and acceptance. Without that, no homosexual can claim to be happy in this world, save perhaps the likes of Ricky Martin.

Western academics call it heteronormativity or the superiority of heterosexuals against any other gender. It actually stigmatizes other forms of gender and sexuality as deviants and consequently confirms that self-expression is dangerous as long as it does not conform to the so-called ‘norm’. Thus it is utterly dangerous like ideological, political, race, religion, physical or even age discrimination.

But a heterosexual man or woman cannot claim to be superior on the basis of his gender or sexual orientation alone. Political and economic power moved the heterosexual man or woman to be supremely powerful and dangerous over all other heterosexuals and homosexuals.

On the other hand, I do not find it appropriate for one to divulge his gender orientation whether in public or privately not because there are heteronormative out there but because it vibrates indiscriminately to the already subjective society. For doing so is accepting the pressures of a biased society to give in to their wishes, pin down someone and isolate him/her in the process.

Is it really acceptance that we want while forcing someone to admit?

The current socio-economic and cultural set-up prohibits someone to divulge his/her gender orientation. For coming out, the brave ones are further discriminated. Such is the case even within the gay community or now aptly called the sexual minorities. You are only ‘in’ if you are discreet or scandalously straight acting. With that, I give honor to the effeminate, the transvestites, the transgenders and the newly formed group called baklita for they are the tsunamis in the eye of the storm.

Before you look at someone, or before that someone look at to him/herself as straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, labyboy, queer, nilatch, paminta, bayot, baklita or whatever term coined in the process of gender isolation and discrimination, we must look at them, and they must look at themselves as human beings first and foremost. For no major consideration can guarantee gender isolation by looking at someone as your own image and likeness. The good Lord has a word for it: He created us in His own image and likeness. Others who studied God’s gospel consciously overlook a simple message.

We are all equal on the basis of our existence we can’t go any deeper than that.

Needless to say, economic, political and social considerations matters deeply on gender and sexuality question. For a poor homosexual is totally different from a rich one. Take it from Ricky Martin’s words, “I am a fortunate homosexual.” His economic and social status defines it and takes cue and shape from it. His stature in the world stage as gay musician will never be diminished because he has wealth to defend it and has status to prolong it – and influence us.

And such wealth and status will prohibit others to minutely alter his new found moment.

Earth hour?

It seems we are enjoying the one-hour Earth Hour?

Yesterday, around 7:30 in the evening, I was about to finish my 1000 meters freestyle or roughly ten laps of the 50 meters Olympic size swimming pool at the Cebu City Sports Complex when the Earth Hour participants eagerly awaited to switch off their electricity.

Meant to raise awareness on energy conservation, according to Wikipedia, Earth Hour is a global event organized by WWF, also known as World Wildlife Fund and is held on the last Saturday of March annually, asking households and businesses to turn off their non-essential lights and other electrical appliances for one hour to raise awareness towards the need to take action on climate change.

Earth Hour was conceived by WWF and The Sydney Morning Herald in 2007, when 2.2 million residents of Sydney participated by turning off all non-essential lights.

With the success of the Sydney’s lead, many other cities around the world, including the Philippines adopted the event in 2008. Earth Hour 2010 took place on March 27, 2010 from 8:30 p.m. to 9:30 pm, at the participant's respective local time.

Such activity is incredibly innovative, every year since 2007, participating countries offered an hour of their precious time for mother earth. But then, switching off is not enough. We should be reminded that the electricity that we are using, mostly coming from the destructive effects of coal-fired power plants, major cause of ozone layer depletion.

In Cebu alone, we have three.

While the Philippines have a lot of indigenous, clean and green energy resources, it remains untapped due to pressures and politics from multinational corporations (MNCs). We remain reliant on carbon dioxide (CO2) emitting coal fueled power plants as a source of electricity.

However cheap the electricity generated by this carbon dioxide emitted power plants, it makes our life cheap and the earth hour cheaper if awareness alone on raising energy conservation is the goal. Condemnation for the use of destructive power plants, like coal, and advocating for the use of earth friendly renewable and indigenous energy sources, like hydro, solar, wind, should be in the agenda.

Geothermal and natural gas are heavily taxed by the government while coal-fired power plants like Kepco-SPC (Salcon Power Corporation) coal fired plants in the City of Naga, Cebu are being encourage by the energy department and the province of Cebu.

Unfortunately it reflects our governments policy on the use of renewable and energy sources, despite the abundance of natural gas and geothermal the Philippines remains committed to contribute to the ozone layer depletion.

In Naga alone, where I used to serve as consultant to both the rank-and-file and supervisory employees union, most of them are electrical engineers at the prime of their life, are not comfortable with coal fired power plants, experiencing first hand its destructive effects in the nearby communities and themselves.

In time of massive panic due to the erratic weather disturbance, energy conservation is laudable and necessary. Switching off our electricity usage for an hour coupled with our green and clean energy advocacy should be in placed. And in our everyday life, for example, we should limit our energy usage.

In the meantime, let us enjoy the Earth Hour, while transnational and multi-national companies around the world are signing agreements after agreements with host countries for the energy development using coal-fired power plants just so we can switch off the electricity that we are using – for an hour!

So that by the last Saturday of March 2011, we can switch off our electricity usage again and enjoy the privilege of being ‘in’ even just for an hour.

Child prostitution

October 20, 2009

10:00am

Lately, I was asked by a friend, a graduating nursing student, to help him in his research about the knowledge, attitude and practices among commercially sexually-exploited children on sexually transmitted infections and proposed possible teaching interventions. Like any research involving reproductive health, I readily offered my limited resources and services.

For what use are the limited resources and time if not shared? Only government officials won’t do that, with the exceptions to really some dedicated public servants. I can only count nine among them, all found in the House of Representatives.

With all honesty, I was disturbed that a non government organization in Cebu called FORGE Inc. documented at least more than a thousand children involved in prostitution and counting; because it is really far-fetch from my mind as to the extent of children involved in the flesh trade. I have several close friends involved in the trade (hetero females and males and homos et. al), and never in our constant collaboration did we mention children involved in it. I wonder why.

What is truly disgustful is the fact that rarely government officials talked or even discussed issues on child prostitution. A lip service will do, you hear nothing. Clearly, since this children cannot vote, we cannot hear from them deliver social services.

Ah, but they cannot even provide basic social services for those who can.

Rizal’s lessons are now forgotten saying the youth (let’s include the children) is the hope of our country. If a significant portion of our children are involved in prostitution, is their hope left? Others are sniffing rugby or are part of a web of gang involved in anti-social activities.

Typical of bureaucratic governance in our island-nation, we only hear our policy-makers throwing stones at each other’s glass houses. And the oppressed and exploited people are left scrambling for broken glasses, literally. Exponentially, others are left moving heavens ward looking for genuine social change, which is inevitable.

It is a challenge for all. If a nursing student can find a great knowledge and commitment in conducting research to children involved in prostitution, it is really a great leap forward and offers hope, however dim. I also wish other developmental worker and institutions, the corporate social responsibility of business entities, should also invest in keeping our children away from the flesh trade and giving them the kind of direction they rightfully deserve. For in every child’s tarnished future, is ours too.

With all man-made and natural catastrophes coming our way, the fuss about the need for a reproductive health bill is gaining strength despite the opposition of the Roman Catholic Church and its lackeys. The urgency of the bill that should be passed is gaining momentum and the Church’s stand remains isolated than ever. Like I said before, the world is not flat. And in order to deepen one’s faith, one should question it, before saying ‘amen’. And so, the reproductive health bill is equally important to the children involved in the flesh trade.

Even if these are just band-aid solutions to a deep-rooted, class and historical problem, but it can help for our tactical relief and satisfaction.

For the reasons they involved in the flesh trade is mind-boggling poverty. All of the respondents undeniably said so.

Most of their parents are not working or if working as a tricycle/trisikad driver, with no regular income to support the entire family. It is either their mother or father has just been laid-off from work or they were displaced in the countryside and end up scavenging in the cities.

Hence, they involved themselves in prostitution – the only way they can help buy their daily food for the entire family – said to be the oldest profession. Whoever said that should bear in mind that the long standing solution to a problem like prostitution is actually our continuing (well, in fact protracted) fight for economic equality and social justice.

How do we provide solution to this problem vis-à-vis child prostitution?

Genuine agrarian reform should be implemented and let the parents of this children return to the countryside to till the land and improved their lot without fear of land-grabbing and militarization.

A government supportive of and exist based on the peasantry’s cry for land is a government that can stand despite the onslaught of imperialist globalization policies. Hand-in-hand, providing security of tenure and just benefits to our workforce and establish a truly Filipino industry that exists solely and for the purpose of providing the needs of the state and its people will deter their children (our children) to involved themselves in the flesh trade.

Historically, past and present regimes backed by powerful countries, ignored genuine agrarian reform and providing job security and rightful benefits to workers. Historically too, the oppressed and exploited people including their children are dissatisfied with their current conditions that they find refuge in educating themselves so they will provide radical solutions to their age-old woes.

The problem on child-prostitution included.

My Botolan

October 11, 2009

7:40am

1985.

My vacation was perfect. Vivid memories for a six year old kid from Cebu, visiting for the first time the hometown of my father located in the westernmost part of Zambales and host to South China Sea’s peril.

I visited the place in a time of conjugal dictatorship of Imelda and Ferdinand. It was also a time of a social volcano erupting even in the rupture.

And the six year old kid at the time was just stuck how deafening the super-sonic bombs released by F-18 fighter jets of the U.S Air Force hosted by one of US’ biggest military installation outside its homeland in Subic Naval Base in Olangapo City while passing through the dreamland.

Yes, the dreamland.

Walking for an hour from the seashore with grayish sand (a sign of abundant sea creatures) where my grandpa and grandma live, passing the thin and constricted river but nonetheless muddy, the rice paddies ready to be harvested and the passers-by shouting ‘mangan ta pon’, my uncle brought me to the only place, he said worthy of my vacation.

The place indeed brought some realistic awakening. Fine pine trees in hundreds I’ve never seen in Cebu, lake water fish, carabao’s, chicken, horses, goats, age-old trees, kasoy (which can never be found in Cebu), kamatsili (rarely found in Cebu) and several other ‘acts of God’. Surprised, matanglawin are also abundant the locals said, but most are leaving the place due to the rampaging fighter jets regularly disturbing the limited sky.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed eating the kasoy and kamatsili.

Seemingly reluctant, I traversed the scenery of a government-owned dreamland. Touching the leaves as they are about to dry while listening to the whirlwind blowing melodically and me just sitting in the carabao grass waiting for the uninterrupted conversation of my uncle and the care-taker to end.

Still, the F-18 jets destroyed my senses.

We returned to my lolo and lola’s place completely awed with what I experienced. For what is good to keep in a six year-old kid’s heart and mind is just his penchant for what is left a century hence. What the place look like, say in 1885 without the super sonic bombs and conjugal dictatorship. I wonder.

I told my tall, willowy lola with what I saw. She, being of Chinese descent from Fujian (formerly Amoy) is almost reluctant to listen to his favorite apo while playing mahjong, chewing her tobacco and inhaling it smoke from within.

My Ilocano lolo, a US war veteran adopted two Amerasians, remains isolated due to ageing.

Since last August until now, several typhoons and floods ravaged the hometown of my father, destroying what is left to keep, including vivid memories of a six year old kid from Cebu.

My Botolan is now gone…almost completely.

What is next? My Baguio?

What price spam?

October 2, 2009

8:39pm

“Am stranded!!”

The title of the subject seems believable. After all, while we are still experiencing the aftermath of typhoon Ondoy (international name Keshena) wreaking havoc to millions of people in Luzon, and me just traveled from Manila a week before Ondoy arrived, who will not believe that I am actually stranded?

But in London? Perhaps, it is believable if it is in Florida. But that is another story.

The hoax cried like wolf drowning in a sea of mud. And me, while experiencing silhouetted pain, didn’t realize that a spam message sent to my 600+ contacts created disturbance of epic proportions by just reading the responses of those the spam message have caused.

It all started with a message that I can’t open my yahoo ID. While no longer surprise since I’ve experienced for more than a year a routine to change my password often, a spam is still a surprise. In this age of cyberspace, guarding our cyber-home is equally important like guarding our morals.

Significantly, I also realized how important friends are, despite the disturbances the spam caused them (and me) they heartily extended support, believing it was true.

Take it from Mr. R&*(, a friend for more than 15 years, London-based and a graduate of History and Philosophy of Science:

“Hello Roxanne

That sounds terrible. It must be awful to be stuck and not know what

to do next. I'm really sorry though because I cannot help you with the

money. With the best will in the world I simply don't have access to

that kind of money - even to lend for a short time. I just don't have

it.

I find it strange that the consulate would not let you use a phone to

call home. Could you not go back and ask for their help? And the hotel

must have more than one phone line - since it sounds like it is them

who want payment surely they would let you make calls to arrange a

wire transfer?

It sounds like you don't want anyone to know you are here, but I think

you may have to tell somebody back home in order to get out of your

predicament.

Were the police involved? Can they not offer you advice on how to get

home? In any case you should go to the police if you have been robbed.

The most important thing is to stay calm. I am sure it can be worked out.

I'm really sorry that I can't help Roxanne. But I'm sure it will be

fine. People get robbed while abroad all the time and so the travel

industry and consulates are used to dealing with the problems.

Good luck with it

R&*(,”

And after telling him am OK and it was just a spam that I hardly expected. Here is his kind reply:

“Dear Roxanne

I am so relieved that it was just spam. I did wonder since it seemed

so unusual and unlikely. I was very worried when you didn’t reply - I

had imagined coming to find you and putting you up for the night while

it got sorted out, but I stopped short of saying so in the first

message in case it was a hoax.

I am at work now so cannot write for longer - but I'm glad you are OK

and wish you all the best

Your friend

R&*(, “

Someone read his mail first other than me. Fortunately, that someone didn’t reply to his e-mail.

Another friend (a Filipino based in New York) is about to contact his friends in London to ensure that I will get the kind of support needed.

“Hi Roxanne,

Do you want me to contact some folks there in London, so they could at least assist you with you predicament?

I know a couple of people who lives in that area. They may be able to help you with your situation.

Please advise on what else we could do from our end.

Y&*%”

But others are not as polite as you expect them to be. Maybe because of the length of time you overlooked each other. Or they just simply send an e-mail message which look like, well, a spam. Or someone sent the e-mail in their behalf and then end up a spam victim, like me.

Maybe.

“Go to hell it is free”

Said she.

Maybe she forgot me, but we collaborated once in an indie film shown in her department. She’s a college professor and a department chair.

“Kill yourself if this is not true”

Coming from an alternative (progressive) online newsmagazine which I used to contribute several years ago, replied with tremor.

I just hope that the messages “Go to hell it is free” and “Kill yourself if this is not true” are, well spam.

Beyond that, I am glad others remain silent (and end up irrelevant?) And others called up just to ensure I am really fine and safe. Truly, in a wired world, it is better to get wired and avoid electrified than being electrified and yet, disconnected.

Daily, I received the inquisitions of friends so diverse that it made me realize how important and unimportant I am to them. I randomly selected the responses, please read.

From a friend who teaches political behavior at UP Cebu, nailed the scammer:

“Hay roxanne...someone hacked into your account. I'm sure you're not in London kay I was just eating lunch with you today. paet. scammers.”

Unexpectedly, a friend so close to my heart for more than half a decade and rarely sent an e-mail, excite my senses when I received his:

“hey roxanne is it true?? what happened?? wla ko money oi...nag unsa diay ka dha ron sa london??”

A lady lawyer I worked with in saving children involved in prostitution cried like a wolf as her reply to the spam:

“HOHOHOHOHO!!!!”

Below is from someone who loves vasectomy and is an advocate of reproductive health:

“Hi Rox!

You're one of my several friends nga binuangan sad with this kind of letter unsaun kaha ni pag stop! am forwarding this to u in case u didn't know u've bin spammed!

F#^$& “

The truth is it is difficult to stop this kind of online/computer project.

From L.A. to my mailbox, a friend inquired:

“Poor thang! Where did you fly from to London ??

Tell me which hotel you stay?”

From a patriotic independent film makers:

“ok. let me know”

From a fellow who fights for freedom:

“may virus computer mo...”

And from a dyosa:

“ola roxy! your joking!!!”

Below from a friend who writes and edit a national business daily:

“Na-unsa man ka bay? Kahibalo ko naay naka-gamit sa imong email. Ako lang ning sakyan kay wala koy lingaw. Good luck. Will send immediately.”

And again,

“I don't know where you got my e-mail address. But for sure I will forward this e-mail message to all my contacts to warn them about your trick.

I am 100% sure you are not roxanne and that you only used him to extort money online.

Hope you'll die with the storm Pepeng so you cannot victimize innocent people.”

And from a fellow who works as an engineer:

“I'm sorry but the credibility of Roxanne that I know will not stoop low as to beg for money. This gimmick will be ignored will be and reported to authorities. Your IP address is being tracked down by the Federal Government as you are reading this reply.

Thank you..”

It is only now that I realized how important my 10 year-old primary e-mail is and how important its contents are. Maybe, it is true, cyberspace is the end of our species...or mine...

Like what a friend of mine commented in my face book account keeping me cool despite my ordeal and warned for future, identity theft is not far-fetched. I am beginning to wonder how virtual I am in a really imaginary world.

She said:

“Weird. I have similar experience but instead of having someone sent a spam mail, someone deleted my yahoo account. It couldn't be me for obvious reasons.

I recovered the account through secondary email, which contained many notifications that I requested to delete my yahoo account {complete with time and date details}

Some weird things could happen anytime to anyone. What's next mama Rox, an identity theft?”

While I can not paste in this blog all those who replied to my mail, I really took time to reply one-by-one to those who sent friendly and unfriendly messages informing them I am a victim and all are not spared from online hoax. For in the end, the polite and not-so-polite e-mail messages I received is a time consumed on their part and a destruction that wrought havoc to their senses.

So whoever (I am not discounting the possibility of an online project or a computer) triggered to disturbed the senses, time, mode, and circumstances of my online contacts, the obvious reasons seems inadequate, but the incident reminded me as the primary victim and my online contacts as secondary, that in a virtual and wired world we are in, life should be safeguarded carefully.

With the incident, I was reminded of a computer named Deep Blue who defeated Kasparov in their chess match. And what is next after the digital after life? (read: digital afterlife)

Confessions of a pet (dog) lover

Yesterday, around five in the afternoon, the Olympic size swimming pool of Cebu City wasn't cooperative at all. The traffic of swimmers, amateur and pro, beginners and the like, forced me to cancel my 15 laps - I end up going to the Archivus Designs to print the poster I designed for our upcoming activity, earlier than I planned.

Walking through the infamous Junquera St., is a common sight of a family staying in a make-shift outside the unreachable walls of Philippine Christian Gospel School, an exclusive school where, incidentally, one of my closest hetero male-friend, studied. I don't know if during his high school days he saw what I saw and feel what I felt.

Nevertheless, just beneath the mahogany tree beside the unreachable wall lies what I hardly expected to be a source of my proletarian discontent vis-à-vis bourgeois appreciation. The unfamiliar sight of troubled puppies and the much familiar sight of a family who owned the puppies languishing in a petty-sight of familiar awakenings.

Since this is a confession, I might as well confess.

I owned a dog. Not just an ordinary dog, but one banned in several states in the US and feared by many whose only line of defense is subjective fear. I owned an American Staffordshire terrier a.k.a American pit-bull terrier. Her name is Nadem, a quite patriotic one, short for national democracy. The name is taken from an aspiration for several decades by millions of Filipino people's struggle for genuine freedom and democracy. Thus, Nadem.

The inspiration too, stems from the fact that she was born on the 26th of December.

Four years ago, Nadem, owned and breed by a friend and comrade, a doctor of veterinary medicine, whom I aptly called "animal nga doktor" envied me with his pit-bull puppies and I bought one with a comradely discount.

Nadem gave birth to nine puppies almost two months ago after almost four years of being a single “lady-dog”. Unfortunately, only seven survived. Diablo, Nadem’s mate is a perfect father for their puppies, but that is another story. My puppies are well taken care of by the entire family. Even the stud’s owner, is equally excited to see Nadem and her puppies as often as he can, including his younger brother.

As per advised and the random routine of veterinary check-up, my puppies underwent the routine check-up due them. Otherwise, I can’t sell them with a good price.

Which lead me to be distracted by the three puppies, less than six inches each, dirt colored and sleeping, lying beside and above each other below the mahogany tree. Walking achingly slow towards my destination, as if my legs have just been bitten by dogs, I wanted to move back. But I decided to go ahead and not be distracted with what I saw.

Owning a pet, despite the social and economic disparity in life, should never be a hindrance. In fact, I always appreciate people, whose limitations in life (including time), still finds time to be with their “best-friend.” That old moniker referring dog as man’s best friend simply holds true to several familiar sights I saw within the perimeters of a garbage dump skywalk, below the overpass or even within the unreachable walls of a Christian Gospel school.

What struck me was the family who owns the pet, while their pre-nursery and nursery kids were drinking their milk; they also provided milk to their malnourished puppies. The familiar and disturbing sight becomes deeply familiar, moving and painful. I not only remembered my puppies but also reminded myself that my two-year old kid will be brought to a doctor tomorrow for his routine check-up.

Not just on that day, but on the 26th of December thereafter.