Reading Edel E. Garcellano’s Anti-Poems in a Pandemic

Of all the poems in Edel E. Garcellano’s Vanishing History & Other Poems (University of the Philippines Press, 2012), one makes for a more haunting reading than others. In a long string of verses, the preferred form in this volume, titled ‘Anti-Poems’ (pp. 200-205), Garcellano recreates images and experiences from multiple points of views, of Filipinos fleeing Libya as civil war broke out, which continues to this day.

I was an college student when a barrage of news about an incompetent Philippine state which can’t secure the safety of its own citizens, migrant workers usually in medical and construction sectors hesitant to evacuate because of the threat of joblessness back home, and an overall sense of incomprehension in the local news coverage of violence erupting in Libya and in the region in general.

The poems in this book were collected from Garcellano’s blog, and usually dated in late 2000s. But not this one, so I presume this one was written in around 2011. Garcellano has distilled the collection of voices into verses that can serve as lenses to the precariousness of migrant Filipinos and an ineffectual consular arm of the Philippine state, whether discussing previous crises or the present one brought by the COVID-19 pandemic. When you see images of hundreds if not thousands of stranded people, not necessarily OFWs, since the lockdown started the lines of the poem becomes more stirring, with a singular theme–something must be done. Migrante International provides a concise gist of the Duterte regime’s disastrous response in their latest statement.

Anti-Poems

2
Thousands they are
fleeing toward the border,
hundreds more cooped up in camps
ransacked by mercenaries
as they await signal
from the Embassy which only listened
to their twitters weeks later
in an uprising
the home government was slow
to calculate…
Rats scampering all over the desert,
journeying with their tales of woe
& stolen dinar…
But they will leave again & again
if papers are processed
to work comfortably
as camels for the caliphate.
Hero or heel?
The revolutionaries in the boondocks
ready the team
for their ops in the lowland.

4
Should he, the self-confessed cynic,
care about that OFW
who got killed by Libyan thugs
in an attempt to get his passport
at the Embassy?
He must be itching to be with family
to risk it all
in a crossfire down some alley…
The Embassy was in a fix-
it could only issue press releases
to show they’re busy
with busyness…
The family, left twisting in the wind,
could only wring their hands
& cry endlessly.
Again, does the universe care?

5
The Arab world
is in flames:
Egypt,
Tunisia,
Bahrain,
Algeria,
Libya where the dictator does
a Mussolini:
shoot down the people
in the name of feudal universality.
O How it was then
in Paris
when communards set up barricades
& wished God were on their side.
This time will He do it right?
The Arab world
is in flames.
But we’re all crossing our fingers
this will be for real.
EDSA was a nightmare
that resurrected
the ancestral villains,
restored the feudal order.

6
Armies of international
migrant workers
culled from the margins
of Europe & Asia,
troop down on Tunisia
like a plague of locusts
from Libya.
Hungry, besotted with fear,
anxiety, & loathing,
they drag across checkpoints
& desert guns
bereft of money
saved for their overseas families.
Worrywarts are multinational bosses, too:
how to feed the masses
& keep the oil flowing
where their bete-noir rules.
How must they recover
their profit share
if their trusted colonel is in disarray?
Return to the old, old ways?
The International Order
must however
be solidly enforced,
the status quo recalled.

7
They flee
from the savage factotums
of the monarch,
staying congested under a Saudi bridge,
loitering at the Embassy compound…
The violated maidservants,
the brutalized men
who wouldn’t hack out
their bargain labor…
They have bled clean
their Middle East dreams
but the country has turned a blind eye
at their plight.
Where is justice then?
In our lifetime?
O How they persist
to believe God’s promise
in apocalyptic time.

8
At the instance
when they hurriedly trooped out
of their camp,
they had already commenced forgetting:
O how it was in the old, old days
when they fled on foot
& trucks to speed over
chilly terrains of sand & blood;
chucking & sighing
how they survived thugs
& African mercenaries
& found themselves in Paris suburbs;
taking note of their luckless dead
with a tinge of sadness
as they breathed secret prayers in Church–
it is as if destiny were written
in the stars
that as the earth moved mysteriously
so must they lest they calcify & die.
O Forgetting is elixir of life
but remembering fills the void of their nights.
O All things must pass,
gently weeps Sir George’s guitar.

9
The text pleaded for
her mother’s help.
But days had dragged on
with no rescuer in sight.
Until all signs of life…
They were desperate
down there in Iloilo/Cebu,
lamenting how helpless
they were to answer her call.
The priests could only wish
for the elusive miracle
but officials were trapped
under their own bureaucratic rubble…
Somehow they couldn’t
imagine how a sweet girl
could so perish in such
a brutal, merciless manner.
If only she didn’t dream
to leave for New Zealand;
If only she could get a job
here in the Southern cities;
If only God would hear
mortal pleas;
If only she were never born
at all
to suffer such ignominy
O If only…

10
He doesn’t know the word:
diaspora is too academic,
only he’s familiar with
zero that grips his sleep.
Runs out of the country
where everything is perennially cheap,
again he runs out of Libya,
crossing the desert hungry, distressed…
O Where shall he lay his head?
He’s a field rat flushed out
by bombs & decadent sheiks…
O To simplify quotidians
of a minimalist life:
Flee to the hills
& wage a collective peace!

Image by KJ Rosales, Philippine Star, June 11, from here.

Image by Anjo Bagaoisan, ABS-CBN News, June 4, from here.

Image from RICHARD A. REYES/Philippine Daily Inquirer, July 26, from here.

LETTER TO YOUNG POETS

I just finished reading Edel E. Garcellano’s book Vanishing History & Other Poems (UP Press, 2012). The poems in the said volume was gathered from this blog, mostly from the late 2000s. I checked his site again and he had posts until 2016. I think that could be at least two more books? I am hoping. Garcellano passed away last April 23.

EDEL GARCELLANO

(1)

I am supposed to address young people who are enamoured of poetry, or the craft thereof. This is difficult for me. I have always tried to steer clear of workshops and literary soirees. They have since become a cottage industry for enterprising academics. But when the invite was sent to me, I had to write down my thoughts as representative of the Creative Writing Center of PUP where now I lecture. Should I be gentle? I don’t want to be mistaken as a grumpy old man by young people who secretly wish to be famous or national artist in the future.

Of course, there is in our subconscious the desire to be recognized, to rise above the crowd, to be proclaimed a poet. The honour sounds majestic, but many have fallen by the wayside – they end up as advertising creatives who rake the money: they who claim to…

View original post 537 more words

Five Neoliberal Lessons in Through Night and Day (Veronica Velasco, 2018)

Audiences are not resistant to change, but they are still particular with their money

In Through Night and Day, destiny is not as involved in the plot, the leads have quirks instead of having token comic relief best friends/siblings/family, the characters more nuanced and raw (though this will be capitulated to more conventional melodramatic tropes in the second half). Initially a flop in 2018, the movie enjoyed renewed interest in Netflix. Some say this is a film finally finding its audience, in a different platform. Or it further reveals that the difference between a ‘successful’ movie and one that is a ‘failure’, is a robust marketing machinery. Companies like Star Cinema, owning both production and distribution, rarely made flops (though the future of the company is currently uncertain). Regarding exhibition, it must be acknowledged that cinema-going (making a day out of it, eating out with friends or family, braving the commute, etc) is becoming drastically inaccessible to many. Streaming is on a roll, as it entails lesser risks in costs (monetary or otherwise), on top of a pandemic (and an incompetent state response) that drags on. So is it a miracle of local cinema after all? It is hard to tell, since in the context of underdevelopment, appreciation is closely tied to where you spend the little money you have. Will a film ‘trending’ change the playing field? The latest Erik Matti rant is curiously enlightening.

Official pubs from 2018, image from here.

Yuppies like stories about themselves, without the anxieties

Related to the previous point, because of a changing (or rather decreasing) audience with surplus purchasing power, young adults take the center stage in recent romance stories. These are urban educated youths, putting off marriage or disregarding it completely and most likely found employment in BPO companies. Generally cynical towards the government, focus is on upward social mobility and pursuing other middle-class fantasies. Politics and the State is always absent. Aspects of work is modified. There is minimal worries of paying bills and supporting family members, and even if it comes up it is resolved by passion and handwork. In Through Night and Day, there is not only an absence of adult responsibilities (Ben, Paolo Contis, manages a family business, Jen, Alessandra de Rosi, is a flippant law student, both details mentioned or shown very briefly), but also the absence of sexuality. Green jokes were convenient substitutes. Contis after all is a mainstay in Bubble Gang. Aiming for a general patronage rating, you need to infantilize young adults.

Traveling for leisure is desired by a nation of labor migrations

The main trust of the movie, a vacation in Iceland from being a experience of leisure is the backdrop of the relationship’s breakdown. Considered by bourgeois common sense as a reliable relationship litmus test, travelling here serves multiple purposes and follows conventions both recent and old. It is significant that Ben and Jen live in Baguio, a space transformed by a deliberate colonial project and the city would later serve as a local setting for mimicry and cosmopolitan aspirations in film during the postwar period up to the 90s. They don’t travel just anywhere, they go to a temperate country like Iceland where they wear slightly thicker coats. There are token scenes of wonder and vexation towards foreign space like dealing with higher costs of living (groceries, car insurance), and even a snotty fellow Filipino tourist. The locations are touristy, but also economical production wise. Just like in Northern Lights (Dondon S. Santos, 2017), sightings of aurora borealis is CGI.

Official pubs from 2018, image from here.

After a big fight, both consult their parents. Ben talks to his mother in New York, where he intends to eventually migrate as well with Jen. His mother’s advice is revealing. When both of you get here, you will further learn compromises. This is textbook relationship advice, but grounded on the fact that affluent Filipino migrants when settling abroad end up in blue-collar jobs and lose their cultural capital and privileges. Decades long policy of labor export is framed as a builder of character. Many linked the film’s affinities to de Rossi’s earlier Kita Kita (Sigrid Andrea Bernardo, 2017), which I considered, among other films, as a propagator of the gentrification of migration narratives. Relationship woes unfold with metropole scenery in the background makes for an uneasy viewing experience; especially recently hearing about massive lay offs, suicides, resorting to scavenging, and migrant Filipinos in different parts of the world generally being hit the hardest by the pandemic.

Audiences want mature resolutions without brushing aside romance

How to steer clear of the notorious happily ever after? Insert a perfectly understanding new partner for Ben, and Jen ravaged by disease but not too much (semi-bald head of a woman usually works fine, as a completely bald head would evoke pity) to prevent them from going on a nostalgia trip that ends with closure. Death is of course implied, not shown. You satisfy both those happily in a relationship and those who are single (who may or may not have unresolved baggage). Films like Never Not Love You (Antoinette Jadaone, 2018) and Hello, Love, Goodbye (Cathy Garcia-Molina, 2019) would flawlessly integrate concerns of labor and migration to heighten conflict and tension in their narratives, bringing out a facade of ‘wokeness’, which also pulls on the heartstrings of the yuppie crowd. Through Night and Day does the opposite, and still works.  Either way the individual self and its emotional pursuits or laments reigns supreme, making invisible the neoliberal order.

Movie trends are symptoms of their historical periods.

Loosely, the last twenty years have shown the following trends; resurgence of bold films in the aftermath of the Asian financial crisis, but would lay the ground for the gritty indie wave under GMA administration, blockbuster romantic comedies under PNoy, and lastly the reinvented romances of/for young adults that are both light and lachrymose in the time of Duterte. What do these illustrate, about an audience and an industry perpetually in crisis, and where are we headed? More importantly, what are our alternatives?

Official pubs from 2018, image from here.

Through Night and Day is available for streaming in Netflix.

 

 

 

Motel Acacia (Bradley Liew, 2019)

I did not want to believe the flak for this movie that I’ve read. International but primarily a Southeast Asian co-production, developed in and funded by several prestigious institutions, and an urgent premise to be executed in the horror genre. If it was bad, I thought, it can’t be that bad. Not exactly the first time when a foreign production aimed for the Hollywood market, and ended up being underwhelming. Ventures like these is prone to cinematic ‘miscommunications’.

I finally came around watching Motel Acacia. It was, indeed, pretty bad.

Story starts with a group of men, appearing to be illegal loggers, cutting down a tree (safe to assume to be acacia) in the middle of the night, when paranormal things happen. Suddenly a white guy appears. I don’t know if the original intention is simply illegal logging or capturing a monster in the Philippine forest. Somehow, he was able to transport it to a rural region of a temperate country. He (Jan Bijvoet) is now an old man, and with JC (JC Santos), his adult son. How he met his mother, and how or why did JC get to be with him wasn’t explained. The father, as he was never named, runs a special kind of business, for which he is grooming JC to take over.

In the middle of nowhere, he houses undocumented migrants in a ‘motel’. He also taps the people like Angeli (Agot Isidro) to entice others to stay at the place where fake documents will be prepared, for a fee. They kept talking about crossing a border, the US comes to mind, but it could be Canada or even Europe. One character, Bront (Bront Palarae) talked about being in a crowded boat, evoking the Mediterranean refugee crisis. I’m also hesitant about calling the place a ‘motel’. It is a sprawling underground structure, bare and brutalist, but comes with a pool and a surveillance system. JC was shocked to learn the original intention.

Desperate migrants are fed to the monster from earlier which is now a queen-size bed. I didn’t quiet capture the motivation behind it. The guy could just be racist, or the state or town council is paying him, or both. It wasn’t clear. How he gets paid, and in turn pays Angeli, also wasn’t clear. To his disgust, JC killed his father in the middle of a storm. He later finds himself back in the motel with more undocumented migrants, and to my bewilderment, plays it by the ear. Conflict started brewing, the monster started killing them. It is no longer just a bed, but manifested itself in the walls, in the pool, and started impregnating women.

Just spelling out the plot already reveals poor characterization and half-baked motivations. Pacing was decent but the twists obscured rather clarified things. The effects were ‘Hollywood standard’ but weren’t grounded very well by the narrative or tension. The film took on an art-house direction without the meaningful payoff in the end.

My main takeaway is even if you have the technology and talent, it seems very hard to speak back to the Empire. In this case, it could either be Hollywood or the US, or both as the two as inseparable. Even in the advent of political correctness, the stories that Hollywood churns out could still easily make caricatures of other peoples and their cultures, whether they have cordial or antagonistic relations with these respective countries. The way things are, I don’t think Southeast Asian voices will be integrated to Hollywood anytime soon. Or if should they aspire to, is also open to debate. Looking back to J-horror wave and remakes of the 2000s, or the present Korean wave (Parasite winning Best Picture as a pinnacle), there are at least two criteria for ‘success’ in the US and other metropoles.

First, similar socioeconomic conditions, namely stories of capitalist routines and individualist values by alienated characters. Anything ‘less’, is art-house if not ethnographic cinema. Closely related to the first one, is minimal cultural signifiers or ‘political statements’. If foreign films ‘have something to say’ it should be towards the contexts where they emerged from, which audiences from metropoles could appreciate primarily in formal terms.

China’s recent tactics for cultural politics should be noted for comparative purposes. They either invest in usual Hollywood films and occasionally insert subtle messages but not too much to be labeled propaganda, or they dangle the huge and lucrative market of middle-class Chinese audiences and make American studios follow their censorship terms. Southeast Asian countries, even if they somewhat band together, aren’t capable of these gestures.

Many are praising the ‘global’ character of streaming services like Netflix to provide genuinely diverse materials, but viewing cultures of diffused populations from the global South existed long before. Netflix to a certain extent, is actually further homogenizing productions. Motel Acacia is an effort to counter this wave, unfortunately an underwhelming one.

Mga Highway

Na-delay ang flight namin, imbes na alas nwebe kami lalapag, alas dyes na. Pila pa sa immigration at paghintay ng mga bagahe. Mga 11:30 na kami lumabas sa arrival area ng terminal na yun. Iyon lang yata ang pinakamataong parte ng buong airport, ang daming Pinoy na tagasundo. Bumyahe kami galing Pearson International Airport na nasa syudad ng Missisauga, papunta sa bahay ng tita ko sa Burlington, mga apatnapung minuto din na drive yun. Madilim sa labas at wala kang masyadong makikita. Pagod na rin kaming lahat. Sa umpisa nagkwento pa ang Mama ko tungkol sa paghintay nila. Kalaunan naging tahimik din ang byahe. July kami dumating kaya hindi masyadong malamig, high 10s o low 20s, parang Bagiuo lang.

Hindi ko na namalay masyado pero maya-maya, lumabas na kami sa highway sa isang pakaliwang exit. Mas konti na lang ang mga lane, may stoplights na rin at tawiran. Bumagal din ang takbo ng sasakyan. Maraming bahay at mga gusali na. Ilang liko pa, nagpark na ang tito kong nagda-drive. Wala gate o bakod. Malawak ang frontyard ng Tita Nieves ko at nasagi ang paa ko sa damo. Pahero ang mga hugis ng mga bahay sa paligid, pero hindi mo makita ang mga detalye dahil sa dilim. Patay ang mga ilaw sa mga bahay. Magkakalayo rin ang mga poste ng ilaw. Isa pa, pagod na rin ako. Nilabas namin ang mga naglalakihang bagahe.

Pagpasok sa bahay, bumaba kami sa basement. Merong dalawang kwarto, sala, kusina, laundry area, at storage. Mas maliit na espasyo pero parang bahay na rin. Bukas na raw ang tour. Magpapanghinga na ang lahat, tumiklop ang pagod ng lahat dahil sa paghihintay. Una kong ginawa ay magconnect sa internet, bago pa yata ako maligo. Ang bilis, abroad na nga ako. Magkasama kami ng kapatid ko sa kwarto, may isang single na kama gawa sa kahoy, at isang folding bed na pinatungan ng foam. Pang isang tao lang sana ang kwarto pero pwede na. Naglabas lang muna kami ng pangtulog, tsaka tinabi ang mga maleta. Hindi ko na maalala ang nasa isip ko habang naghihintay makatulog sa unang pagkakataon sa Canada.

Alas dyes na yata ako nagising kinaumagahan. Magsibangon na raw kami, sabik na sigaw ng Mama at Tita Nieves ko. Nakalutang pa kami at lumabas, sinalubong ng amoy ng bacon at pancakes. Abroad na nga ako, sabi ko ulit. Pinagtimpla pa kami ng kape ng Tita ko. Masikaso talaga siya, parang hindi siya nakipuyat kasama namin kagabi. Gusto niyang asikasuhin lahat ng kailangan namin kasi panghapon ang trabaho niya sa nursing home, 3 pm to 11 pm. Pinakita niya ang ibabaw ng bahay; tatlo pang kwarto at isang banyo, ang harap na may garden niya, ang likod na may tool shed ng asawa niya. Stratton Road ang address namin, at paraherong inaalagaan ang mga damo sa harap ng kanya-kanyang bahay, lantad na ang pagkaberde ngayon. Si Tita Nieves ang unang dumating dito, hindi pa ako pinanganak noon. Huling bilang niya, mas maraming taon na siyang nandito kesa sa Pinas.

Wala akong maalala sa unang araw, kasi nga grabe ang sipa ng jetlag ko. Natulog ulit kami pagkatapos mag-almusal/tanghalian, pagkagising namin wala na si Tita at Mama ko. Parehong may pasok. Cellphone at laptop lang kaharap ko. Umuwi para sa hapunan ang Mama ko, nilakad niya lang daw pauwi galing trabaho. Malaking swerte raw na malapit ang trabaho. Medyo mahirap pagnaglalakad na sa snow, pero mas mabuti pa rin. Nag-init lang kami ng ulam, roasted na manok yata. Microwave, abroad na nga ako sabi ko ulit. Hindi ko nagustohan ang kanin namin doon. Basmati daw, ang nipis at parang walang lasa. Nag-text daw si Tita Ping at Tita Alice, mga hindi nakasama sa pagsalubong sa airport. Susunduin daw kami mag alas nwebe. Gusto niyang makitulog din kami sa bahay niya sa Hamilton. Handa na mga pangtulog namin sa mga knapsack nang dumating sila.

Unang beses ko siyang nakita magmaneho. Pinaliwanag niyang dito rin siya sa Burlington nagsimula, nakitira din sa basement. Pero kumuha rin ng bahay sa wakas sa Hamilton, mas maliit daw, pero okay na. Hindi yan problema, sabi namin. Maya-maya, balik na kami sa highway at bumilis na rin ang takbo ng sasakyan. Panay mga burol o di kaya mga pabrika ang tabi ng highway. Papasok sa syudad ng Hamilton, may konting gubat na rin. Sabi ni Tita Alice, nakakakot baka biglang lumabas ang isang usa. Ilang beses na raw nangyari yan. Sa lahat ng pagkakataon, wasak ang sasakyan.

Nakita namin sa malayo ang cathedral ng Hamilton, magsisimba daw kami diyan sa Linggo. Ang tanging araw na pareho silang libre. Nakatingin lang kami sa bintana ng kapid ko, naninibago pa rin sa mga tanawin na kung iisipin matagal naman namin nakita na. Sa pelikula or internet nga lang. Gawa sa aspalto, apat na lane sa kaliwa, apat din sa kanan. Nagliliparan ang mga sasakyan. Bawal daw bumaba sa 100 km kada oras. Pero wala rin, sabi ni Ta Ping, traffic pa rin dito kung umaga at uwian. Buti na lang gabi na ako natatapos, biro niya. Naubusan din siya ng tanong pangamusta. Pagod na rin malamang. Bagong kami makarating sa bahay nila, tumalikod si Ta Alice mula sa front seat, “Alam niyo saka ko lang natanggap na abroad na nga ako noong dumaan kami dito sa highway.”

Cathedral Basilica of Christ the King – Hamilton, Ontario. Kuha ni Kevin Thom. Imahe mula dito.

Biography of a Runaway Slave by Miguel Barnet, translated by W. Nick Hill (Curbstone Press, 1994) [Book Review]

In the early years of the Cuban Revolution, anthropologist Miguel Barnet wanted to create a document telling the story of “an authentic actor in the process of history in Cuba.” He started interviewing Esteban Montejo, an illiterate former slave who was 103 when they met in 1963 in a veterans home.

Montejo was a young man who fled a sugar plantation to live in woods, came back after abolition (1886) and later found himself involved in the last ‘phase’ of Cuba War for Independence (1895-99). Blunt and candid, Montejo’s recollections doesn’t burden itself the usually glorious national narratives.

image from here

The ethnographic thrust is very apparent. You learn about African practices that was kept in the island, work routines, leisure activities, sexual relations, hostility with landed elites, Spaniards, Chinese merchants, and even Filipino laborers in sugar plantations.

There are actually two passages where he mentioned Filipinos, both in bad light. This could also be symptomatic of the segregated work arraignments colonialism designed, which could still be seen today. I haven’t read much about slave routes within the Spanish empire, but Tatiana Seijas’ book looks really good.

“At Purio, like in all the other mills, there were slaves from several countries in Africa But the Congo were the biggest group. They didn’t call that whole northern region of Las Villas Congo land for nothing. In those days there also were the Filipino, the Chinese, Canary Islanders, and there were more and more criollos. They worked cane, spaded, cleared weeds with machetes, hilled over the dirt. To hill over is to plow with a lead boy and an ox to turn the earth, just like during slavery

Relations between the groups remained the same. The Filipinos carried on with their criminal instincts. The Canary Islanders didn’t talk. For them work was everything.” (p. 66)

“In the mills there were all kinds of hexes. The Filipinos were always mixed up in the business with witches. They hung around blacks, and they even slept with black women and all. There were criminal. If one of them died, they buried him next to a black, and he came out after awhile with red clothes on to frighten people. These visions were more likely seen by old folks. Truth is that young people see very little. Even today, a young person isn’t prepared to see things.” (p. 118)

Because of the shared history, late 19^th century Cuba looks a lot like the Philippines. People loved cockfighting and gambling. They drink and party, a lot. Everyone throws water at each other during the feast of San Juan. I also find the cases of friars having children with native women, especially the way is it said, somewhat amusing.

“I seen priests with very racy women who later said, “Father, your blessing.” And they went to bed with them. At the Ariosa there was talk of other matters, like how life was in the churches and the convents. The priests were like other men, but they had all the gold. And they didn’t spend any. I never seen a priest having fun in a tavern. They closed themselves up in the churches, and that’s how they passed the time. Every year they made collections for the church, for clothing, and for flowers for the saints.” (p. 81)

Aside from the vignettes that have historical value, we also learn about Montejo as a person. He was very nomadic, never thought of starting a family, though he went after women a lot. When the war broke out, he doesn’t theorize the revolution or nationalism. He actually thinks there’s very little difference in the post-slavery period. One thing he was certain, the Spaniards had to go.

“To tell the truth, the war was necessary. The dead were going t die anyway, and without helping anyone. I remained alive by pure chance. It seems my mission hadn’t been completed. The gods give each of us a task…Today I can talk about all of this, and laugh about it, but being under fire, watching people dying all around, and the bullets and the cannons and–that was different. The war was necessary. It wasn’t fair that so many jobs and so many privileges happened to fall into the hands of the Spaniards along. It wasn’t fair that for women to work they had to be daughters of Spaniards. None of that was fair. You never saw a black lawyer because they said that blacks were only good for the forest. You never saw a black teacher. It was ll for the white Spaniards. Even the white criollos were pushed aside. I seen that myself. A night watchman, whose only job was to walk around, call out the hour, and put out a candle, had to be a Spaniard. And everything was like that. There was no freedom. That’s why a war was necessary. I realized it when the leaders explained the situation. The reason why you had to fight.” (pp. 155-156)

He was frank which generals were lousy tacticians or had reservations, which ones had the tendency for treason (and the ones that would confirm his hunch). There are only two leaders he had no harsh words for; Jose Marti, but especially Antonio Maceo, El Titan de Bronce, The Bronze Titan. He argues that Afro-Cubans wouldn’t have been mobilized, which was a deciding factor in the war, if it wasn’t for his charisma and military prowess.

Antonio Maceo Monument in Santiago de Cuba. Image from here.

He was furious at the white Cubans who joined the fight later but ended up occupying key government and economic positions, also the ones that would compromise with the Americans. Montejo asserts that during that time, every Cuban knew that the sinking of the Maine was staged, and what it would bring. Uneasy with the cultural change the Americans ushered in, Montejo decided to go back to the countryside, and work again in a sugar plantation.

I could only wish to read a document like this in the context of the Philippines. There are a handful of memoirs by Filipino generals, but they’re primarily considered as academic texts. Aside from creative works (novels and poems), a substantial amount of letters by key historical figures are in archives. Most of them are from elite backgrounds, and the documents haven’t been published for a wider readership.

Oscillating between funny and bleak, insightful and crass, Montejo maintains his pride to the story of his life, his people, his country. Some would consider giving value to the documentation of frank and ‘voices from below’ narratives, that would later be known as testimonio literature, to be one of the Cuban Revolution’s lasting cultural legacy not just to Latin America, but to the rest of the world.

“And though I may die tomorrow, I wouldn’t give up my sense of honor for anything. If I could, I would tell the whole story now, all of it. Because back then, when you were dirty and naked in the hills, you could see those crisp, clean Spanish soldiers with the best weapons. And you had to keep quiet. That’s why I say I don’t want to die so that I can fight all the battles yet to come. I won’t get into the trenches or use any of these modern weapons. A machete will do for me.” (p. 200)

New edition from Northwestern University Press, came out in 2016. More info here.

I previously came across a Miguel Barnet speech last year, that he gave as outgoing president of the Cuban writers and artists union

“Art, by its nature, cannot be reduced to formulas. If we aspire to authentic, living art, that addresses conflicts and contradictions, that challenges and enriches us, UNEAC will need to do much more to protect and stimulate talent, combat passivity, accommodation and mediocrity, promote genuine artistic proposals, to encourage originality to resolve shortcomings and weaknesses in the exercise of criticism and put the values of culture above all else.

We must recover and encourage in a systematic way, analysis and debate of artistic and literary production in the heart of our associations and branches, with greater rigor and consistent evaluation of its reception by the public. Quality must be our permanent currency in everything that our organization proposes.

The cultural policy of the Revolution – which has advocated, since its inception, the democratization of access to culture, the defense of national identity and heritage – has always taken into account the participation of intellectuals and artists.

To intervene in the development of this policy, according to Marti and Fidel’s definition, requires us to listen and be heard, to be coherent and responsible in the dialogue, and warn in a timely fashion of any obstacle that stands in the way of achieving our principal objectives.”

.

 

 

Impaktita (Teddy Chiu, 1989)

Impaktita is probably one of Regal’s better horror films of the 80s. Story of a child of an aswang, facing not just the hardships of growing up poor but also of coming into terms with her nature. The film provides a lot of formal lessons in horror, and I was upset that the narrative momentum of the first half wasn’t sustained throughout the movie.

After the opening hook of an aswang attack to a drunk man going home in a rural community, the action kept piling up. We meet Roselia (Gloria Romero) and Guido (Romeo Rivera), and their newborn daughter Sita. Guido is anxious because of the gruesome attack near their home, on top of his wife deflecting talks of baptism of their child as well as of marriage. After another incident, the townsfolk put two and two together that Roselia is indeed the aswang terrorizing their community. Guido is greeted by a mob with torches as his wife transforms. Still in shock and furious, he flees carrying his child in the forest. The baby then manifested the same condition of her mother, ultimately killing him as well.

The transition of the story is fast and smooth, you get past the dated effects as attempts for a decent character study is laid out. Sita is picked up by a truck driver (Mario Escudero) who is having difficulty to have a child of his own. He goes home to his wife (Nida Blanca) in an impoverish urban community beset with gang violence. A place where he has learned to mind his own business. Sita (played by the Judy Ann Santos) grows up reading horror comics, and scavenging garbage to supplement the household’s income. When she was confronted with extortion by a criminal syndicate lead by Nato (Ruela Vernal as sinister as he was in Brocka’s Insiang and Cain and Abel), her claws appear to defend herself. The village thug then promises to exact revenge on the child.

We next see Sita as a young lady (played by Jean Garcia) that does ironing jobs to a nearby household, we also meet her suitor Rudy (Richard Gomez). Arriving home one day, she is informed she can’t continue her studies. She is fine and contented with what her family has. Later that night, in a trance, her mother Roselia shows herself and explained that her condition will catch-up faster now that she is 18. Roselia introduces her familiar, a giant bat that terrifies Sita, thought the term used was bantay. Working late one night, she goes home alone as Rudy was held up by friends in a drinking session. She was gang raped by Nato and his companions. I was expecting her abilities to show, as this was a moment of distress, but it didn’t. Tipped by a witness, her step father tried to save her. He was outnumbered and killed. While still tied, she turns and was able to kill Nato. A lost opportunity since it dragged on, a young timid girl turning into an aswang to kill thugs would have been a great transition. Following the film’s logic, I was expecting it to now turn into a rape-revenge plot, but it didn’t either. The rape was never spoken of again, which I found alarming.

It felt downhill from there on. The next subplot was also curious, but wasn’t executed very well. A dashing photographer Jessie (Aga Muhlach), who also writes for tabloids, another self-referential note to the genre, came to Sita’s neighborhood to cover the violent death of Nato. Upon seeing her, he was immediately attracted. He eventually offers her a modeling job, much to the ire of Rudy. While on a date in a fancy restaurant, Sita was uneasy catching site of her familiar, she then stormed off. She kills off the rest of Nato’s companions now headed by Asiong (Rez Cortez) while they dispose a body in the forest at night. In another incident she kills a peeping-tom taking pictures of a woman undressing. Jessie, still involved in the police beat, was able to connect the Sita is indeed the attacker. Jessie reveals this her mother, and later teams up with Rudy in an attempt to kill the giant bat. Jessie however disappears in the last 15 minutes of the movie, without much explanation. Rudy, Sita, and her mother later asks for the help of a priest to figures out how to kill the giant bat, and if things go bad, Sita herself. This is the time that religion reenters the story aside from the suggestion of its power earlier.

As I’ve mentioned, I greatly appreciate the fast pace of first half. It is somewhat fresh as conventional horror would like to spread out the scares, starting with giving bits and eventually going over the top in the climax. Impaktita views the longer frame, and at the same time reworks the melodrama bildungsroman that dominates Philippine cinema, then and now. Instead of depicting an episode where the equilibrium of bourgeois life is disrupted, this one is an accumulation of experiences where eruption of violence is not random or tangential. We have relatively better characterization, and this works very well since the lead comes from an impoverish background. She struggles with the horrors of her ‘nature’ and but also of her immediate sociocultural context of her class and gender. The love triangle wasn’t a completely bad subplot, but it wasn’t used to its full potential. The relationship with Rudy and Jessie was hostile upfront, that when they did cooperate it felt rushed. The torn between two suitors angle was dropped completely toward the end without a decent resolution. The religion as solution, though obviously a conservative gesture, should have been hinted a bit more throughout as well so as not to appear out of nowhere in the end, though that is in fact the genre’s deus ex machina.

Impaktita should be seen now as it provides an alternative template to monster’s perspective. Thought the huge weakness of the plot is maintaining Sita’s innocence when she could have been an anti-heroine, the girl that fights back to the horrors she had to go through. This could be utilized as a feminist spin on the genre that beyond the troubled mother defending her home and family in films like Feng Shui (Chito Roño, 2004) and Amorosa (Topel Lee, 2012), or the corporeal horrors of motherhood in Tumbok (Topel Lee, 2011) and Rain, Rain, Go Away (Chris Martinez, 2011). One progressive horror movie that creatively tackles similar themes in Impaktita that comes to mind is Wag Kang Lilingon (Jerry Lopez Sineneng & Quark Henares, 2006), which unfortunately is also almost forgotten. Impaktita, with its strengths and faults, is fascinating viewing as it provides possible directions at a time when local horror appears to be in a slump.

 

Impaktita is available in full for a limited time here.

Praying in the Pandemic — thesis eleven

by Charlie Samuya Veric This article is a part of the Thesis Eleven online project: Living and Thinking Crisis

via Praying in the Pandemic — thesis eleven

15 Short Documentaries from/on The Philippines

If there is one form that the internet undeniably ushered in, it is the short documentary. In a few minutes, you can tackle an issue with slightly more depth than the usual soundbite-temple of news articles. You can add photos and videos, both recent and archival. This is not a substitute to long-form journalism, but it is a viable entry point for complex issues. This is true especially in the context of low-attention span platforms of social media, and cyberspace in general. Furthermore, a large degree of democratization is taking place as bolder independent news outlets can now compete with large media conglomerates.

I recall being very happy when big networks like GMA started uploading their documentaries (especially I-Witness) online to reach a wider audience beyond the ungodly late night time-slot their award-winning shows occupy. When I was in high school I went to bed around 1 a.m. every Monday just to watch it. Also reports from the foreign press, again both small and large players, have also been more accessible, adding more platforms and perspectives to the country’s media landscape.

I compiled this list when I keep coming across good short docus, which after I share, I fear would be buried and forgotten in the pile of data the internet produces on a daily basis. Another big factor is the campaign Artists for Lumad Bakwit School initiated by the Concerned Artists of the Philippines to raise funds for displaced lumad students, whose difficult situation has been aggravated by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Several filmmakers made their works available online for free viewing and encouraging donations from those who are able to contribute. To my surprise, many of these films have long been available in YouTube. These are indie productions after all, so marketing is barely a concern. Now that these films can be watched beyond festival circuits, their pedagogical potential can’t be denied.

I made this list for myself and others. I provided brief summaries as well as guide questions. In the context of the classroom, they can be utilized by both students and teachers. I would argue that these clips should be transposed to an analog setting for better discussion and appreciation. Moreover, a well-managed class has no room for trolls and troll-like behaviour.

Unfortunately, it must be acknowledged that not all schools are equipped with audio-visual facilities. I still hope that educators and students will take away some points in condensing and giving a human dimension to complex narratives and issues, exemplified by the art of the documentary.

The titles in this list is fairly diverse but in no sense attempts to be of ‘the best of’ variety. None follows the conventions of lifestyle or magazine features created for leisurely purposes, which I think dominates the internet. There are actually more than 15 docus because many needed to be watched thematically together. Almost all titles are available in YouTube, for convenience and familiarity of the platform. Almost all have English subtitles as well. For duration, none are longer than 30 minutes and several are below 15. This provides ample time for pre- and post-viewing discussions.

Majority are produced by foreign media outlets, ultimately professing an outsider’s perspective. Occasionally some might slip into exoticism, if not parachute journalism. However, I think that the positions filmmakers take, local or foreign, should also figure in the tackling of these materials.

These titles will initiate difficult and urgent conversations about overlooked or controversial aspects of Philippine society. It will indirectly put the country ‘in bad light’, for this I make no apologies. In this political climate, I wouldn’t be surprised if they wouldn’t be available for viewing soon. I hope they will aid in elevating the discourse from what should be shown, to what is to be done after the clips end.

Why the US has so many Filipino nurses

Using the present pandemic as an entry point, breaks down the history and dynamics of nurse labor migration from the Philippines to the US, and eventually to other countries. Discussing problems in respective health care systems of both receiving and sending countries, mostly women health workers are revealed to be in perpetually precarious positions. Possible topics: labor export policy and dependence of on remittances, gendered migration and global economy of care. More info on Catherine Ceniza Choy’s book here, Philippine edition available from Ateneo de Manila University Press.

Docu available here.

How San Francisco erased a neighborhood

Recollection of the standoff between the police and activists preventing eviction of tenants, many of which are elderly Filipinos, in the low-income International Hotel in 1977. The manongs in their twilight belonged to the generation of male Filipino migrants who went to the US to be seasonal farm workers during the American colonial period. This includes Carlos Bulosan. Great docu to discuss racial and class segregation in urban planning, labor migration and imperialism, and lastly multisectorial community organizing. Essential viewing if one wants to locate him or herself in the present BLM unrest, or simply to see a grim reality of Filipino lives in so called greener pastures. More info on Estella Habal’s book here.

Docu available here.

History with Lourd: Bala at Magsasaka

With the signature candid narration and scattered humor, this is one of the best episodes of History with Lourd. It came out April 16 2016, and was the second to the last episode of the show that ran from 2013. It was a response to the Kidapawan Massacre that took place a mere two weeks before. It comprehensively connected the incident to previous peasant massacres in the past, and unfortunately would stay relevant when considering the killings that happened since then. Duterte was then a presidential candidate who openly condemned it. How do farmers fare under his rule?

Docu available here.

Duterte’s New War 

Several interviews with various victims’ families of murdered farmers, lawyers, and local politicians in Negros. Included recounting of the acts of killings, red-tagging, intimidation, and uphill battle for justice by human rights organizations, collectives, and communities. A representative from the state forces is also interviewed, only to deny allegations if not play dumb and pose as hearing about the streak of killings for the first time.

Docu available here.

Damaso

Short clip of Carlos Celdran’s daily routine in Spain after he fled the Philippines. He facing jail time for disrupting an ecumenical meeting in the Manila Cathedral in 2010, by holding up a sign that said DAMASO. He was a vocal critic of the Catholic church’s meddling in the passing of a reproductive health law. Was Celdran’s method of protest legitimate? Compare his case with that of Pol Medina and Mideo Cruz. How influential exactly is the Catholic church in the country? The reproductive health bill was passed 2012, how was it implemented since then?

Docu available here.

Filipino Cinderella: from domestic helper to beauty queen

Story of Jessarie Dumaguing, showing her in a beauty pageant school and in competition, though in the end she didn’t win. The country is now known to be a ‘powerhouse’ of beauty pageants. With Jessarie as subject, what are her motivations and goals for investing and joining these competitions? What are the cultural roots of people’s fascination of pageants? She also emphasizes the advocacy aspect of the contest, but how much impact does these efforts really have? Pia Wurtzbach and Catriona Gray are currently framed to be ‘woke’ beauty queens but how are they compared to Maita Gomez? Why isn’t the dark side of pageants, as revealed by Janina San Miguel, being discussed more? An even more concise docu on beauty pageants here.

Docu available here.

Lambat & Kababaihang Mangingisda ng Taliptip

Two docus about the fisherfolk community of Taliptip, Bulacan threatened to be displaced by the building of the New Manila International Airport. Interviewees recount their daily lives and routines of their workday, content with the income from small-scale fishing. There is collective anxiety and anger that what little they have will be taken by massive development. Aside from disrupted lives, the environmental impact of the said project was are also highlighted.

Docus available here and here.

Ground Zero 

Another community to be displaced by development, this time the Remontado Dumagat in Rizal whose ancestral lands will be submerged if the Kaliwa Dam pushes through. In fact, construction of roads, by Chinese developers, towards the area have already started without the consent of the community. Faced with red-tagging and militarization, the community fears they will lose the sustainable way of life they, and generations before them, grew up with. Does not include the long history of people’s resistance to the dam in area since the 70s. Useful also to discuss alternative ways to remedy the water supply problem of the Metro Manila recommended by experts that won’t encroach indigenous peoples’ rights.

Docu available here.

My Uncle Spanky, the Rock Star Who Left It All Behind 

Migration story of Spanky Rigor of the VST and Co fame, and how from being one of the most popular performers in the Philippine he ended up being baggage handler in the US. His nephew tackles pop music under the dictatorship, the labor migration routes that was systematized by the same regime, and the difficult choices people make to navigate hard situations at home and abroad. A glaring omission is the US’ role in keeping the Marcoses in power, how subsequent presidents also catered to their interests.

Docu available here.

Clip from Signed, Lino Brocka (1987)

I sort of bent my own rules with this one. Short clip from the full-length documentary by Christian Blackwood. Brocka discussing the Manila Film Center controversy and tragedy. And by extension, how the Marcos dictatorship utilized architecture and film to stay in power. Lastly his frank opinions about the couple and the aftermath of their rule. Full film is available for rent in vimeo.

Clip available here.

Balang Araw & Kalumaran

Balang Araw is an episode of #NoFilter about the lumad bakwit school currently in UP Diliman. Shows the struggles and perseverance of students to get education while raising awareness to their troubled situation in Mindanao. The other focus is the dedicated network of volunteer teachers and organizers helping to keep the set-up running.

Complimentary viewing would be Kalumaran. More of a impressionistic documentation rather than a report of the 2015 mobilization against APEC, whose meet was held in Manila that year. We see lumad protesters negotiate with the riot police, perform and march in the streets, and hear parts of speeches denouncing aggressive development that displaces indigenous peoples. Provides a global dimension to the fight for self-determination.

Docus available here and here.

I sold my son to ISIS: how the battle for Marawi ripped a Filipino family apart &
Battleground Marawi: A return to ruins for survivors of the Philippines war on ISIS

Interview of former child-soldiers and their parents to took part in the Siege of Marawi. On the ground perspective on people’s motivations, regrets, and overall, how they made sense of the bloody fight that tore down the city. A more human look into events that are often framed to be black and white.

Also from SMCP, this time testimonies from displaced women and their families sharing their daily struggles and frustrations. Window to the lives of people affected by conflict while the national attention has seemed to moved on. These families in evacuation camps and temporary shelters are also dealing with the pandemic. Also reveals the state’s wanting response to a crisis of this magnitude, that is similar to other calamities like typhoons and volcanic eruptions. Glaring omission is the lack of history of displacement and conflict in the region.

Docus available here and here.

A Sinking Ship 

Report and interviews of workers inside Hanjin Heavy Industries, a Korean shipbuilding company that recently declared bankruptcy. Much before that, there were already several reported cases of labor violations and union busting. Window to the precarious situation of workers dealing with contractualization and the country’s dependency to foreign capital instead of striving for national industrialization.

Docu available here.

Mary Jane, The Woman Who Escaped A Firing Squad

Detailed discussion of the case of Mary Jane Veloso, a Filipina on death row in Indonesia for drug trafficking charges. We see where her story starts in an impoverished countryside to the mobilization of a coalition of human rights lawyers and migrant rights groups. Circles back to the labor export policy of the Philippine state and the fertile ground for abuse it creates for vulnerable people. Veloso’s family were initially optimistic about the then new Duterte administration in 2016, but this hope was dissipated quicky. Her recruiters have been convicted as of early this year.

Docu available here.

Meet Estelita Dy: A Filipino Comfort Woman Survivor

Long interview with lola Estelita Dy, one of the few remaining Filipina comfort women. She narrates her experience of being abducted during the war, countless incidents of rape while in captivity, eventual escape, and living with trauma she mostly kept to herself. Then her involvement to organizing efforts with what would eventually become LILA Pilipina in the 90s to present, demanding justice and acknowledgement from both the Philippine and Japanese state. Great parallel to the current wave of sexual harassment stories exposed online from #MeToo and the local #HijaAko. Another good topic for discussion is the removal of comfort women statues not just in Manila, but also in South Korea and the US.

Docu available here.

 

P.S.

More films, short docus or otherwise, available from Concerned Artists of the Philippines.

Campaign for the Lumad Bakwit School is still ongoing. Link here.

The Decolonized Eye: Filipino American Art and Performance by Sarita Echavez See (University of Minnesota Press, 2009) [Book Review]

[This is an expanded post, specifically with more media,  that came out first in my instagram]

Decided to go for this earlier book before diving into Echavez See’s study of Philippine exhibits in two museums in Michigan. All the works discussed here were produced or exhibited in the 90s or early 2000s, not quite the internet age yet, so I don’t know any of them. The exception is comedian Rex Navarrete, whose name I heard before, but haven’t really seen his shows. Theoretical thrust is decolonizing art criticism via Freudian psychoanalysis. Reading this was great exercise as I’m rusty on those lenses.

Manuel Ocampo’s “Untitled (Burnt Out Europe)” 1992. Image from here.

Liked the chapter on the corporeal art of Angel Shaw and Manuel Ocampo. Had to grapple a lot on the take on the works of Paul Pfeiffer and Reanne Estrada, and debates about form and content, abstractions and visible histories. Stand out for me is in the linguistic strategies in Navarrete’s humor of selective assimilation. Great lenses to tackle recently popular comedians like Jo Koy and Mikey Bustos, whose acts I, and others, believe to have strong currents of nativism, feudal values, and model minority logic. Nicky Paraiso’s queer camp performance will also interesting if juxtaposed to Nico Santos (Mateo in Superstore) and Fil-Am contestants in RuPaul’s Drag Race, or even to Conrad Ricamora’s role (Oliver in How To Get Away With Murder) where queerness is emphasized over ethnicity.

 

The internet is really changing the landscape of art and performance production in the ‘homeland’ and diasporic spaces in metropoles. I hope it will lead to stronger bonds of solidarity exemplified by cultural workers like agit punk band Material Support and rappers affiliated with Beatrock Music label like Bambu, Ruby Ibarra, Power Struggle, Prometheus Brown, Klassy, and so many more. It is very exciting since the faster we get past nostalgia and exoticism, the closer we get towards justice and reconstruction, for oppressed peoples everywhere.