He said...
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Posted:Jan 30, 2008 7:41 am
Last Updated:Feb 4, 2008 4:38 am 12064 Views
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He said she's his first love, his first kiss, he can't live without her. Even if she throws his roses to the trash bin right in front of him, he isn't shoved.
Such tenacity for a love that's being ignored, I could die laughing, watching the whole gooey drama right in front of me. No wonder I don't have so much patience for tele-novelas. But on a night where your cable isn't showing anything that doesn't have the delusions of love, and your brain is popping out because of too much reading, what else is there to do? Go for tele-novelas and have a good laugh.
I must admit I have to give my thumbs up for the word swaps -- Coffee Prince, geez! It's unfair not to admire the person behind the tele-novela. I'd be fair, it's a hundred percent worth the laugh.
I wish I saw the other episodes so I could follow where the story's going. Unfortunately, I'm not much of a couch potato between 7-10 p.m. Bed potato is what I turn after...
Yesterday (a year or two, I think), I tried to be patient to watch Meteor Garden because the girls were raving about it. Every time, during coffee moments (long ago), I'd find myself alone in a corner just listening to them as they go about discussing the episodes. I told myself "THIS CAN'T BE" -- I have to belong. I tried watching a few, but couldn't make it to the finish line. I couldn't stand long stories on television.
One of these days, I have to give it a try... not because I want to watch tele-novelas, but because it's a personal challenge. Sometimes, challenges are offered by activities no one likes.
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Gone Before, Here Now...
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Posted:Dec 20, 2007 6:32 am
Last Updated:Jan 30, 2008 7:30 am 11916 Views
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I DIDN'T bother anymore to check the date of the last blog I wrote here; I'm sure it has gathered enough cobwebs to swathe me for an entire year. But I'm thankful that friends and other members whom I haven't met before have come and visited to read my rants and raves.
I realize there are now many things new here at FFF. Wow, how long has it been since I was away?
There's STICKY POST and I'm not even sure what it's all about. I did take a quick look, but I will pass for now and ruminate about it later. There's also SHOW IN FORUMS but I'm not sure if I want to be the mark of anyone's unpleasant opinions just yet -- so forget that too. The safest thing is to put this on DON'T SHOW IN PUBLIC DISCUSSIONS.
Anyway, I'm happy to be back! Many things have already happened in my life since I was last here. Some blissful and exultant, some sad and lonely, some full of fun and adventure and some full of crap and crazy. I don't really know why I'm still breathing.
Life goes on... If we don't feel every emotion there is available, we might as well be dead.
Merry Christmas... catch the bug, it will expire soon.
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The Problem with " and @
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Posted:May 5, 2007 8:39 am
Last Updated:Dec 20, 2007 6:08 am 12457 Views
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I HAD my computer reformatted today because a very aggressive virus corrupted the integrity of some of my important programs and stored data. Mhel, my computer technician, told me the name of the virus, but I'm not interested in committing it to memory so I don't know what it's called.
I'm really frustrated because there was so much work we did since 2:30 p.m. Reformatting took more than an hour; plus storing everything back, it's so annoying. Until now (7:37 p.m. by my watch), Mhel and I, are wondering why my anti-virus failed to remove it. And all the while I thought Norton is the best cure for troubles like this. Ay, naku!
Right now, I'm adding music files to my iTunes all over again. That's more than 450 songs; all personally researched and collected in the past from various sources (friends, relatives, limewire, FM stations).
On top of that, I'm having problems using " and @ or at. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but every time I need to use quotation marks; press shift and then number 2, what comes out is " and not the symbol for at. If I press shift and then the key for comma, that's when the at symbol appears. Weird! Like, I have to really use my brain now -- try to remember all the time that they've switched places. Aruujuskoo! Elam den lamang.
I'm badly hurt. This weekend has been set aside for direly needed rest and recreation. Do whatever is there to do that can make me spend time at ease because I think I started the week desperately chasing deadliest deadlines. I'm even supposed to leave yesterday and take on that thing referred to as its-time-for-a-holiday since I spent the whole holy week working. What happened?
If there's any consolation, it's that one important lesson I've learned: I'm good being obsessive-compulsive sometimes (only sometimes, winkz!). That is to say, I don't throw everything away. I keep documents from long ago, magazines, CD installers, receipts, little notes, passwords and PIN numbers in a special notebook, label files saved in compact discs, anything -- even dusty spider webs, in case I need them in the future.
When you're spring-cleaning at home or at work, check what you're throwing away. Make sure you keep what are still essential. You'll never know when a problem would turn up, and you'd require their use. Like when Mhel asked if my installers are still with me, I told him yes. He said he needed the drivers for my scanner, my printer, my web cam -- I'm glad I kept all of them in a box.
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pussycat Dreams
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Posted:Apr 7, 2007 4:17 pm
Last Updated:May 7, 2007 3:54 am 12987 Views
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MY SISTER'S cat, Mimingga, died several days ago, and she's still brooding about her loss. I've offered to get her a new kitten or look into adopting an older cat, but she's not interested.
I realized that I am so dumb making my sister that offer. In my dash to provide her a source of comfort, I forgot that she's still grieving. Certainly, a new kitten or cat wouldn't help her broken heart.
It's sad when a pet dies. Pets serve as companions to many of us, especially for the old and those who live alone. They provide a warm living presence and keep sadness at bay. Mimingga's like that for Cecille who lives on her own in El Nido.
A cat or can be more than a companion; losing them often leaves an emptiness that's hard to fill. I have a dog, Wola, and I'm used to going home with him running and jumping around to welcome me. When I work in my computer, he'd be behind my chair comfortably stretched on his belly, waiting for me until I finish. Sometimes, I'd even hear him snoring.
I don't want to think that he might die too.
Any death evokes other losses. I really don't know because I am just guessing, but perhaps for Cecille, Mimingga's death reminded her of other deaths in the family. The recent ones were the demise of our Uncle Big and Sr. Guadalupe de Jesus or Lola Madre to us. The death of a pet can also stimulate in people thoughts about their own mortality. This would be an exaggeration in the case of my sister, but for others, I know it happens.
Dealing with the death of a pet is not really far from how one copes with any loss. The mourner needs supportive listeners to share his or her grief. This may include stories we've heard before about how the pet was chosen, what it was like as a puppy or kitten, and what made it special.
Exactly true with my sister. Cecille just sat there in front of her lifeless body, tugging at her neck bracelet, and telling me how special Mimingga was as a companion during days and nights she's lonely in El Nido.
I've heard it before from her, but I still gave her the time (after I stupidly offered to get her a new cat) to grieve and tell me stories about how she taught the cat to sing with her while she's in the bathroom; how Mimingga would do her snobby tricks when she has guests at home; how the cat would flirt with the male cats in their neighborhood; how tiny she was when she found her in a canal being stabbed by sticks by little and soaked by the rain; etcetera.
She titled her Blog pussycat Dreams in honor of Mimingga, she added.
She's not the only one brokenhearted. All of us because we love Mimingga too. Whenever she's at home, she likes to wander under my computer table and play with the electrical cables there. Sometimes, I'd scold her, then she'll just turn her back and toss her tail at me as if she doesn't care.
Another time Cecille went home late, she found her way to my bed and curled and slept with her backside in front of my face. There was that night too, when we thought she had ran away, only to find her sleeping soundly inside a shoe box on top of my closet. When my mom admonished her, Mimingga just boringly yawned at her.
Talk about attitude, and Mimingga has it. She loves being pampered; knows it's her right as an adorable cat to be treated lavishly and fed excessively. I do miss her too.
In due time, Cecille will accept and forget her loss. When that day comes, I hope she's ready to take in another cat, or maybe another lost kitten, because she didn't fail in taking care of Mimingga and loving her. She should know she has fulfilled Mimingga's pussycat dreams since that day she rescued her out in the rain.
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Looking Forward Thinking Women
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Posted:Mar 30, 2007 10:09 pm
Last Updated:Apr 4, 2007 8:44 pm 12594 Views
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HERE'S A NEWS FLASH: I only slept for an hour and a half. Nevertheless, I'm fine. It seldom happens, anyway. At least, I was given the wonderful opportunity to catch this morning's sunrise with my dad. For a sunrise devotee, I'd chill like a drug dependent if I don't get to appreciate any in a week's time.
The mood has changed. I'm now a happy smiling face. And before anything else tries to jeopardize my composure, I'd start today by Blogging about WOMEN and DREAMS. That is to say, WOMEN of substance, not women of inadequate self-worth; and DREAMS that provoke feelings of inner positivity, not dreams of castles in the air that have no foundations below.
Last Tuesday, I sat with 14 -- I should not forget to mention this -- inspiring and EMPOWERED women; different shapes and sizes; quality and quantity of life experiences and achievements; and dreams (simple or complex) at Neva's for a small forum on women empowerment in celebration of the international women's day this March.
It's amazing. The afternoon overflowed with women confidence and pride that moved slowly and steadily so as not to make others become self-conscious. We were laughing and making friendly banters, and though such an occasion wasn't the first time for me, I still think of it as a chance of a lifetime. I've sat with many groups of women, and each time is really a memorable encounter.
Women empowerment?
Over breakfast that Nay Jane invited yesterday morning (again at Neva's), I told her that last Tuesday, I thought the forum would be tackling intricate issues concerning women, such as battery and abuse, , how lucky the Philippines is compared to other countries in Asia because its women are now taking center stage in terms of business, politics, culture and others, women exploitation, unfair labor treatment in other countries, etcetera.
I'd pay just to see the expression on her face again because it made me realize I was dead wrong. Sometimes, I do have the tendency to take a lot of things seriously for my own good. Better this than the propensity to lean towards anything that doesn't follow the rules of logic.
That Tuesday, there was nothing about women empowerment being one of the medium development goals (MDGs) of the UNDP or one of the priorities in the Philippines' development agenda. It was all about us who were present there; what we think of it in relation to our personal goals and dreams as a woman.
The first question wasn't even about what we think of women empowerment. It was about our dreams. Visions that are necessary to our lives as women.
Iced tea-drenched afternoon, that's what it was, I was dumbfounded. But I succeeded in hiding it by horsing around like a few did. I wasn't prepared for the question. What are my dreams as a woman? Where did that come from? I mean, dreams? I have a lot, and I can even categorize them into long-term and short-term ones.
Long-term ones are: (1) taking a gondola ride across the canals of Venice, (2) an evening date with Paulo Coelho brightened by the moonlight, (3) dancing naked under the rain on top of Taraw in El Nido (believe it or not), (4) write a book; topic yet undecided, (5) build a home for vagrant elderly people and neglected , (6) take a big balloon ride across Asia to safely land on the Great Wall of China, and ultimately (7) be a good mother and good wife to a good husband.
Short-term ones are: (1) implement that livelihood project with the JCIP-Puerto Princesa Peacock for more than 3,000 women whose families lost their homes in the fire that struck three barangays where the baywalk now sits, (2) apply pressure (lobbying would be nice instead) for the City Government to provide a separate quarter for mentally ill women patients seeking shelter at the Drop-In Center inside the old PNP compound in Barangay San Pedro, (3) make ends meet to finish the coffeetable book project I will be heading for an October deadline, and (4) attend an HIV-AIDS forum in Mexico soon.
See? I'm big on dreams as a woman. Yet amongst all these, I think I only mentioned No. 7 in the long-term. Probably because I expect it to be the very last to come true? Don't know where all my dreams went that day, really. I also remember teasing I am dreaming to be a man and not to get beaten black and blue by my future husband -- what?! Of course, they're only funny retorts to the question (hahaha!).
It wasn't nausea, but truth was, the query made me feel like a cat on a hot tin roof. I'm used to discussing my dreams out of my own autonomy to my family and to my friends. There are even times that they come out when I'm talking to people I only met. To be asked about it however, there's a glaring difference. It almost blinded me. Was it the first? In recent times, yes.
At the core of the concept of women empowerment, they say, is the idea of power. Power that changes then expands. If it cannot change then expand, it is not possible at all. Power too, in its principle, should not be misconstrued as lording over men and making them follow what we want them to do unreasonably.
It's not having a restaurant that is ONLY for women, or a bus that can only be patronized by women, or a NO MEN building. These would be the most twisted way of understanding women empowerment.
The subject matter is really broad. Maybe I can express more of my opinions as I roll and write Blogs later.
Right now, the most important thing here is for us women to know that we cannot have that empowerment within and outside us if we don't know how to dream. Sure, being practical about life as a woman has unquestionable end results. But to stop dreaming because were too busy being practical? Can't imagine a life like that.
Our environment, or whatever our condition is in it, shouldn't scare us too to dream for ourselves as women. If we have faith, and for just once won't take long breaks in dreaming, we will know it's an important rationale to empowerment. We should be looking forward thinking women who have goals and dreams, and not otherwise.
If you want to dream to be sexy, why not? If you want to dream to be rich, yes! If you want to dream about relaxing for a while away from your responsibilities at home, do it. If you want to dream of getting out from an abusive relationship that's not bringing you anything except wounds and scars, go right ahead and don't look back. There's a lot of dreams for ourselves we can give rise to.
Let's just not stop dreaming for dreams, Anais Nin said, are necessary to life. I agree. Nothing happens first unless we dream. Dreams, not fantasies, remember that.
I can't wait to sit in the next one coz there's more to talk about.
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Shouldn't You Have Horns?
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Posted:Mar 29, 2007 6:45 am
Last Updated:Apr 1, 2007 2:17 am 12721 Views
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I AM a person who doesn't want to be angry because I believe it's a great obstacle to living a life that is at ease and contented. Frustration and depression is its byproduct, and who would want to feel discouraged and exasperated? I don't!
Anger is a thief. It's very nature is to steal. If we allow anger to come in, it will rob us of our treasure -- INNER PEACE. Why would anyone want a treasure like that to be stolen? I can't risk my inner peace. It's the only valuable inside feeling I want to buildup and hoard for as long as I live. With it, one can never go wrong.
Hence, even if I can already sense myself in the vicinity of that thin line between anger and calmness today, I'm doing everything I can to hold on to the latter. Calmness builds positive nature; anger only destroys.
There are three projects I'm supposed to get done before nightfall, but because I'm so occupied crying inwardly for deep aspiration to come to the fore and block anger from eating away my ability to tolerate -- SHOOT! It's already 9:39 p.m. I need to stay up late again.
Times like this, where's EXTRA JOSS?
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Scorched By Hell
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Posted:Mar 20, 2007 4:42 pm
Last Updated:Dec 20, 2007 6:05 am 13339 Views
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WRONG SIDE of the bed for me again this morning.
D*mn it!
March has always been a bad month for me even if it's the beginning of summer, or the time of year that brings the flowers of my favorite cherry and fire trees to come into bloom.
It's probably ridiculous or cracked, but I am thankful that in 700 B.C., that King Numa (I forgot his family name) guy found it sensible to add the winter months of January and February ahead of it into the Roman calendar.
It's a long story how the two months made their way into the Gregorian calendar that we now widely use. Besides, my memory is malfunctioning. King Numa is the only piece of historical explanation I can remember as far as calendars are concerned. How it happened and whatever the reasons were, I'm just glad March is no longer the first month of the year. Otherwise, every year would be utterly defective and flawed for me to live. I can't begin to imagine that!
Why in Carmen's name am I grumbling?
It's because nothing gave way today to make me feel okay. I've been scorched by hell as early as 3:00 a.m. Somebody who's almost certainly out of his mind was ringing me at around this time until 3:30 a.m. There was no name that appeared on my mobile phone's screen so I ignored the call. I've had too many experiences with anonymous text senders and callers, and I can't handle another. Not when I've just changed my number. What registered was just "CALL." That means the one who rang is probably living outside the country, or if he's living somewhere within, he must be using a landline.
What a bad morning. Its aftereffects tailed me like an evil power that can't be avoided even when I was already home. Tomorrow's another day. I'll be careful not to get scorched again.
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Tau Gamma Phi/Sigma Figures in Death of Neophyte
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Posted:Mar 16, 2007 3:12 am
Last Updated:Mar 17, 2007 8:31 am 13713 Views
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CHARGES OF violation of the anti-hazing and abuse laws were filed on March 15 and 16 by the City PNP against 22 members of the Tau Gamma Phi/Sigma Triskelion Grand Fraternity and Sorority who are all believed to be involved in the gruesome death of 19 years old Roland Cequiña, a mechanical engineering student of the Palawan State University (PSU).
Charged before the Palawan Regional Trial Court (RTC) are Rex Alcantara, Joey Abin, Pantaleon Valdez, Israel Portaleza, Garry Naria, Zander Zapanta, Anthony Evina, Ray Jan Barapero, Jonalee Ivory Toang-toang, Sonny Majegro, Lloyd Toang-toang, Roger Alcantara, Eden Rick Canilla, Kenneth Ticki, John Lerry Alegre, Gerald Cabate, James Daduce, alias Balting, and alias Carding; and several and Melly Nolledo, Giane Versoza and U.S. national Robert Bob Violett who are now detained at the City PNP.
City Police Senior Superintendent David Martinez said they might also file charges of obstruction of justice against the suspects, but they are still studying its possibility. Only 70 years old Violett, Nolledo and Versoza were personally brought to the local court to be charged. The rest still remain at large.
Hazing Day
Superintendent Martinez accounted that according to their probe, Cequiña and four other neophytes of the Tau Gamma Phi/Sigma, identified as Janrick Cabalongga, Ariel Magbanua, Prince Harold Soritta, and a certain Rico, were met on March 11 by their masters and ladies at the Palawan Sports Complex between 8:00-9:00 a.m.
The group then proceeded at about 9:30 a.m. for a “one-day survival” initiation rite at an isolated spot in Barangay Sta. Lourdes, nearby the old Palawan Quicksilver Mines, Inc. mining area and the City solid waste management site. The police refused to divulge the name of the owner of the place.
By 11:00 a.m., the hazing of Cequiña and his other companions was started by allegedly more or less 35 members of the Greek letter secret society. Superintendent Martinez revealed that when interviewed, one of the neophytes claimed that during the initiation, they were beaten and paddled with wood a number of times causing all of them to scream and cry in pain.
“Our witness narrated that their blood were already sputtering, and even their skin, but their masters and ladies were just laughing and clapping their hands”, Supt. Martinez told Palawan Times.
The initiation ended at 2:30 p.m. The group separated in two, with one going back to PSU, and the other to Sitio Kaakbayan, Barangay Tiniguiban. But apparently, along the way, Cequiña’s companions noticed him breathing irregularly, vomiting, and eventually lost his consciousness.
They tried to resuscitate him in their hiding-place in Kaakbayan, but his heart was no longer beating. Afraid and unnerved by the situation, the Tau Gamma Phi/Sigma sent two of its members to rush him to the Palawan Adventist Hospital between the periods 3:00-3:30 p.m.
Superintendent Martinez related that those who brought Cequiña to the hospital on board a tricycle gave him a fictitious name -- John Albert Rodriguez -- and made claims that they are his close relatives. At the hospital, despite emergency procedures, medical personnel failed to revive him. Cequiña was declared dead on arrival shortly after.
Because they’re his relatives, the Adventist allowed them to withdraw his dead body without so much inquiry. Before 4:00 p.m., Cequiña was taken back to Sitio Kaakbayan. Along the way, Supt. Martinez said the Tau Gamma Phi/Sigma members even requested the tricycle driver to return at 7:00 p.m., but he refused.
Inside the safe house, Cequiña’s body was first laid on a wooden bed, and then later hidden inside a trash can made of rubber tire. Shouting matches ensued afterwards because the members were undecided what to do and how to dispose the body.
Superintendent Martinez theorized that it was between 4:30 p.m. and 7:00 p.m. when one of the members called Violett in Brooke’s Point for help. He added that it was amid this interlude too when he started receiving text messages informing him of a hazing incident where a neophyte was killed that day.
“Immediately, I informed my duty officer to investigate this. They went to PAH, but the victim was no longer there. We could not even ascertain his identity because he was given a different name”, the police chief added.
As per witness’ account, Violett arrived from Brooke’s Point before 7:00 p.m. “It is possible that the victim’s body was thrown into the river between 7:00-10:00 p.m”, he presumed.
That night he ordered a check point to be set up in Barangay Irawan because he received information that the body will be disposed somewhere in the zigzag road. But until midnight, Violett’s vehicle was never spotted.
Missing Body
On the morning of March 12, Superintendent Martinez ordered the investigating team he has tasked to probe the case to leave no stones unturned and find Cequiña’s body. He was receiving rampant text messages in his mobile phones, but since none of the members of Tau Gamma Phi/Sigma was ready to talk, building leads as to where his body was hidden or buried proved difficult.
It was only after two days when the police got a strong lead that the body was disposed at a river in the Iwahig Bridge, Barangay Iwahig. When Supt. Martinez requested the Philippine Coast Guard to search the river on March 14, Cequina’s body, which was already in an advance state of decomposition, was found.
The search began at 7:00 a.m., but he was discovered only after three hours. When found, the victim was stark naked, his hands were secured with a straw, and his feet with an electrical wire tied to a large round rock estimated to be weighing 15 kilos.
His chest area bore puncture wounds, but investigators could not say if these were made by a knife or part of the body’s decomposition stage. Dr. Ricky Panganiban of the City Health Office recommended that Cequiña’s body be autopsied by a medico legal expert from the National Bureau of Investigation or Camp Crame to determine the real cause of his death.
Justice for Cequiña
When Guillermo and Violeta Cequiña saw their dead ’s body being hauled out of the river, the two couldn’t help but cry and shout in despair.
The victim was their youngest who was full of dreams, and who wanted to become a warrior of the Philippine Marines Corps. According to his mother, Roland’s study was being supported by a former Marine colonel because they could not send him to school being poor.
“Roland was a very good . All he hoped was how he can help us because we are really broke. That’s why when he was offered help for his study, he readily accepted it and promised to be study well”, Violeta spoke to the press with tears rolling down her eyes.
Roland’s father has no permanent work. He only gardens, and then occasionally sells its yield in the market. The Cequiña family resides in Barangay Tagburos next to where their youngest was brutally initiated by members of the Tau Gamma Phi/Sigma.
“We want justice for our Roland. What they did to him is brutal. They treated my like an animal when they threw him in the river to be eaten by fishes”, Guillermo said, adding he still couldn’t believe what happened.
Meanwhile, Isabelita Pelonia, the wife of the former Marine colonel, is also crying for justice for Roland. At the PNP Station on March 12, she informed Supt. Martinez that Roland failed to go home on Sunday night. Allegedly, he sought her permission to go to school to finish a project with his classmates.
“That boy was very, very kindhearted. After school, he goes home straight and really concentrates on his study. I was shocked to know that he joined the fraternity, and now he’s dead. I hope the police will find those who are responsible for his death, and that they suffer the same fate too”, she said.
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My Guest Blogger
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Posted:Mar 13, 2007 3:19 am
Last Updated:Mar 16, 2007 3:04 am 12798 Views
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Modern Penal Colony: A Humane Alternative to Brick and Mortar Prisons’ Progressive Rehabilitation Program
By Antonio Graceffo
WHEN I heard the words “penal colony”, I was having visions of Papillon and Les Miserables, tortured images of the innocent Jean Valjean, hauling rocks and being beaten by sadistic guards. The Philippines wouldn’t be the first country I would think of in a discussion of prison reform and innovative rehabilitation programs. My opinion changed dramatically, however, after a tour of the penal colony, on Palawan Island. A philosopher once said, “If you want people to behave like animals, put them in cages.” In the penal colony, the prisoners are free to roam about the grounds. They work in the rice fields, growing their own food. They are given a weekly supplemental food allowance and must learn to budget and cook for themselves. They make and sell handicrafts, attend church and have social clubs.
Back home in Brooklyn, we often referred to the prisons, Rykers and Attica, as “gladiator academies,” places where dangerous men went and became more dangerous. But when prisoners leave the penal colony on Palawan Island, they are ready to live on their own in society and do an honest day’s work.
Down a quiet country road, amid the tropical beauty of Puerto Princesa, the cleanest and greenest city in the Philippines, two kilometers from the prison, my guide, Yuks, pointed at some ordinary farm houses surrounded by rice paddies.
“This is all part of the prison”, he said.
There were no walls, no fences, barely even a sign, only a large statue of blind justice marks the entrance to the penal colony. A single guard, one of only three who operate the facility, armed only with a pistol, greeted our vehicle and had us sign the guest register.
Stepping in the beautifully manicured, common area, I was shocked to see a prisoner, with a huge bolo knife tucked into his belt.
“They need those for their farm work”, he explained.
On the wall in administration building was sign that read, “Mission Statement: The effective safe keeping and rehabilitation of prisoners. Vision Statement: A self sustaining penal institution with fully-developed agricultural sustainable rehabilitation.”
Ten minutes into our visit, it seemed these noble goals had been achieved.
According to the head inmate, the rate of recidivism is 1 in 500. Anthony, an inmate who had already served ten years for murder, told me that he had only finished third year high school when he was arrested near Manila. “At first, I had difficulty getting used to the schedule. I wasn’t used to doing heavy farm work”. Anthony had to adjust to the new concepts of learning to cook for his self, as well as planning his weekly food allotment.
Anthony did the first four years of his sentence in a maximum security prison in Manila, but he likes the penal colony much better. “Here we are free to walk around. In the prison in Manila, there was always trouble. There were gangs and violence. Here there are no problems”.
A section boss, himself an inmate, also called a prison foreman, rode up on a bicycle, armed with a baton. “Sometimes I need this to maintain order”, he said. The section boss explained that he lives with the men and makes sure they turn for work and observe lights out. “The men work from 8 AM to 8 PM. New prisoners are assigned to brigades, where they eat, sleep, and work.” They are never required to wear chains, manacles, or leg irons. “New prisoners live in barracks and eat on schedule, in a cafeteria. Successful prisoners, (who have been here longer) live in bungalows. They get food allotments and cook for themselves”.
The section boss told us that he was convicted of murder. “If you commit a crime in Manila you have to go to maximum security prison for the first part of your sentence, before you would be eligible to go to the penal colony. If you commit a crime in the province maybe you would come here first.” He had spent four years in maximum, in Manila, followed by six years in the penal colony. “In Manila jail there are riots. People get hurt or killed. We were always nervous, watching out. Here it is calm, tranquil.”
At the colony there were no phones, no cell phones, and no internet. Prisoners could only keep in touch with their families by writing letters.
“We can earn some money by making handcrafts and selling to tourists. We can’t go off the grounds at all”, he said.
The section boss narrated that if prisoners left the grounds, there was an implied threat that they would have to go to the guard house for punishment followed by shipment back to maximum in Manila.
The penal colony had two churches, one Catholic mission, run by nuns, and a Protestant church. Many of the inmates said that they had converted to Protestantism. “They were Catholic when they committed the crime, so they changed to Protestant now”, he reasoned.
The approximately 2,000 prisoners are divided, according to how long they have been in the facility. New prisoners live in barrack. Long timers live in bungalows. At the top of the prison hierarchy were the prisoners of the release unit, all of whom were only a few months away from being released. These were the only prisoners allowed to have contact with tourists and have the opportunity to make money by selling souvenirs.
The section boss said the biggest lesson he learned in the prison was patience. “Before, I was less tolerant. Also, I was in a gang. We stay in our gangs here too, but it is not for trouble, only for socials”.
A prisoner named Marcos claimed to be a US citizen, born in Subic Bay, which was a U.S. Territory till the late 1990s. “My father was a sergeant in the U.S. Marines”, said Marcos. “My father used to send me 1,000 Pesos every month. Then in 1999 the money just stopped, and I didn’t have anymore contact with my father.”
Marcos claimed that his passport, birth certificate and other documents had been lost. “When I get out, I plan to go to the U.S. Embassy and try to find my father”.
If the story were true, it was sad. All around the world, U.S. military personnel have left a number of single mothers and fatherless with no support. Often, these deadbeat dads don’t even arrange a U.S. passport for the or register the birth. The fathers disappear into the massive military establishment and the Philippine taxpayers are left to support the mestizo when they get in trouble.
“I was 16 years old when I committed a murder in Manila. I did one year in maximum and eight years here. Life is better here”, Marcos described. “It is calm. We get free food, and a free house, but we have to pay for soap”.
Most of the prisoners were from poor families and admitted that life in the prison was better than being back on the streets in some slum in Manila. In Puerto Princesa they have a view of the mountain, fresh air, and nice weather. Most are probably better fed than back home. I really couldn’t see why anyone would want to leave. And yet, all of them said that upon release they would return to their home.
Apparently, the nature of human beings is to seek freedom, even if their prison was like a holiday camp.
There were no female prisoners, but prisoners were allowed to marry, so there were women and living inside the facility.
A prisoner, working in the gift shop, Louis, told us that he was married at the penal colony and lived with his wife. His two sons were born there, and they attended the elementary school, along with the 47 other , on the prison grounds. Louis is now the mayor, the highest ranking prisoner, after having spent 22 years of his life in the colony. “The prison provides food allotment for prisoner only, not for the family. So, I
have to support my family myself, by selling trinkets to tourists”.
Like all of the others, Louis plans to go home after his sentence is finished. “Upon release, the government will pay for my flight, but not for my family. So, I will have to pay for the family myself”.
Before coming to the penal colony, Louis had served a sentence in the maximum security facility in Manila. “It was very violent”, he recalled. “I am in for murder. The reason my sentence was so long is because I killed two men in maximum in Manila.”
According to Louis, who also works in the prison office, there are five similar colonies in the Philippines. “But only this one is referred to as a prison without bars”. There are 16 families and 48 in the facility.
With free education for the , food, lodging, I asked, once again, why the prisoners would even want to leave. “You can’t stay here when your sentence is finished”, answered Louis, almost with remorse.
He has spent more than half of his life behind bars. The final and obvious question was, what had he learned, and how would he adjust to the real world. “I learned a lot in here in release group. Living in prison I didn’t know how to communicate. Now I have contact with people, including foreigners, so I learned to communicate with people again”, he said.
My driver said it was time to go. As I walked past the prison tennis courts, I wished Louis well. I also considered booking a room for a few nights.
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Still In Dire Need Of Sleep
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Posted:Mar 10, 2007 12:09 am
Last Updated:Mar 13, 2007 5:42 pm 12847 Views
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I WANTED to go back to bed, but sleep's no longer there for me to catch at 10:00 a.m. I was supposed to be with my brothers and sisters at the sports complex at 5:00 a.m. today, yet I missed that one because of a problem that came earlier at about 4:00 a.m.
I'm still in dire need of sleep.
Friend Y's lucky because I always sleep with my phone beside me. Had I left it somewhere away from me inside the house, I wouldn't be able to receive her call. She said she and her husband fought again. Why would couples choose to fight at such an ungodly hour beats me. I have to remind myself to ask her just that question when all's peaceful and quiet later.
Friend Y's problem is nothing new to me, really. It happened before. And before, I know it's going to happen again. What was started once is bound to happen again. Like history repeats itself.
At 6:00 a.m., she and I went to their conjugal (ah, conjugal!) home to get her things. I was driving with half of myself still in dreamland. To be honest, my memory does not recall anything she said the whole driving time from my place to her home -- which is probably a good thing because that was like making her believe I was only listening to her. I've said it once, and I'll say it again, when friends have problems, sometimes all that is needed to relieve them is someone who will listen and not say anything to aggravate the situation.
I can't say "I TOLD YOU SO" for the fourth time. That would be sounding like a broken record already not only to her, but to myself as well. I hate repeating what I've said thrice. But I understand her. It's LOVE. Love is a formidable enemy. No one can fight it by just a blink of an eye, or by the falling of tears. Even going away does not help because memories make the distance short. It comes easily, but it doesn't go away at the same rate of speed. It takes time to fight it, much more to get over it. But there's time. Make it a friend.
When it's about love, it's not questionable. Even when the situation has become a mistake, no one can really say it is wrong because feeling in love is ALWAYS right. Perhaps the only thing is ACCEPTANCE that no matter how much we love there are really things that "CAN'T BE" no matter how we want them to be "CAN BE".
We will be hurt, and it is a process that we have to go through. Even if we're loving, it doesn't mean we can't let go. "Time heals all wounds". We can let go, and think confidently that we are happy because we know how to both love and let go when it's time to let go and move on.
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