Desiderata

Noong 1995, nakatambay kami sa bahay ni Ronnie Lazaro, nagkakape, nakikinig sa radyo. May nilabas siyang isang libro, sabi niya, "makinig kayo." "Sa Daigdig ng Katahimikan" ni Pete Lacaba yung libro, at sa isang bahagi, isinalin niya sa Tagalog ang Desiderata. Binasa ni Ronnie.

Mahabang katahimikan pagkatapos, tapos sabi niya, hindi mas magandang sabihin ang Bayang Ginigiliw? Oo nga naman... pangkasalukuyan ang dating, hindi natatapos, tuloy-tuloy. Alam niyo ang kailangang gawin sa bayan ngayon? Tanong niya sa'min. Linisin. 

Doon nabuo ang proyektong "Bayang Ginigiliw," simbolikong paglilinis ng Pilipinas. Sa Luneta, doon sa mapa ng Pilipinas, nagboluntaryo kaming linisin ang buong lugar. At kahit yung mapa lang ng Pilipinas ang napagpasyahan naming linisin, na akala namin ay kaya naming gawin sa loob ng ilang oras, inabot kami ng halos isang linggo. Marami-rami rin kami sa simula, ngunit ng nagsilisan na ang mga mamamahayag, ang mga manunulat sa diyaryo, ang mga camera ng mga potograpo't istasyon ng telebisyon, unti-unti ring nabawasan ang bilang namin. Sa bandang huli, mabibilang mo sa mga daliri mo ang naiwan. 

Sa bawat araw ng paglilinis, parang dasal, binibigkas namin ang Panatang Makabayan, tapos susundan ng pagbigkas ng Desiderata, ayun sa pagsasalin ni Pete Lacaba...

Naging personal kong tradisyon na isulat sa aking bagong planner kada taon ang pagsasalin na'to. Parang paalala ba, paalalang bubukadkad sa'kin tuwing bubuksan ko ang planner na 'to...

Kaninang bago mag alas-sais, ginawa ko ulit ito...

Desiderata, salinwika ni Pete Lacaba

Lumakad ng mahinahon sa gitna ng ingay at pagkukumahog, alalahanin ang kapayapaang maaaring makuha sa katahimikan. 

(Parang ngayong umaga, unang araw ng baong taon. Pagod ang karamihan, mahimbing pang natutulog)

  

Walang isusuko hanggang maaari, pakisamahan ng mabuti ang lahat ng tao. 

Sabihin ang iyong katotohanan ng tahimik at malinaw, at makinig sa iba, kahit sa nakayayamot at mangmang, sila man ay may kasaysayan. 

(Nitong nakaraang taon, ninanis kong isigaw ang ilang katotohanang sa aking palagay ay kailangang mapakinggan. Ilan siguro rito ay mas mainam na nailathala ng mas mahinahon, hindi nga lang ganoon kadali kung ang iyong pinagsasabihan ay nagbibingi-bingihan)

Iwasan ang mga taong mabunganga at palaaway, sail'y ikinaiinis ng kalooban. Kung ihahambing ang sarili sa iba, baka yumabang ka o maghinanakit sapagkat laging may lilitaw na mas mahusay o mas mahina sa'yo. 

Ikalugod and iyong mga tagumpay at mga balak. 

(Masaya ako na sa kabila ng lahat, pagkatapos ng lahat ng mga gabing pagpupuyat, mga hapon sa lansangan dala-dala ang placard na nagsusumamo sa mga may kapangyarihan na huwag patayin ang mga punongkahoy sa Luneta Hill, karamihan sa mga ito ay mananatili doon, buhay, at maaari pang paramihin... may iba mang gusto pang ipagpatuoy ang away, ang labanan, ang bangayan... sa akin, mahigit isang daang puno ang mabubuhay at ang sinsasabing nagmamay-ari ng lupa ay nakinig at maaaring patuloy na makikinig sa mga ganitong adhikain, ikinalulugod ko ito...)

Manatiling interesado sa iyong trabaho, gaano man kababa - ito'y tunay na kapangyarihan sa pabago-bagong kapalaran ng panahon.

Maging maingat sa negosyo sapagkat ang daigdig ay puno ng panlilinlang. Subalit huwag maging bulag sa kabutihang nakikita, maraming nagsisikap na makamit ang mga adhikain. Sa lahat ng dako, ang buhay ay puno ng kabayanihan. 

(Salamat sa isang Dok Mark, na lingid sa kaalaman ng karamihan, lingid mula sa mga camera ng media, ay linggo-linggong nasa Rizal Elementary School, dala-dala ang ilang kaldero ng masustansyang merienda para sa mga batang kapus-palad at nangangailangan ng pagkalinga)

  

Maging tapat sa sarili, higit sa lahat, huwag magkunwari. 

(Kung may mga paang natapakan ko sa aking paglalakad, pasensya na.... hindi ko kayang ipagkait sa aking sarili ang ilathala ang mga katotohanang dapat ilathala...)

  

Huwag ding libakin ang pag-ibig sapagkat sa harap ng kahungkagan at kawalang-pag-asa, ito'y lagi't-laging sumisibil tulad ng damo. 

Tanggapin ang payo ng katandaan, buong giliw na isuko ang mga bagay ng kabataan. 

Pagibayuhin ang lakas ng loob at nang magkaroon ka ng pananggalang sa lahat ng kasawian. Subalit huwag ikaligalig ang mga haka-haka, maraming pangamba ang likha ng pagod at pangungulila. 

(Siguro nga... kaya sa mga taong nagkakalat ng mga haka-haka't kasinungalingan, siguro sa taong ito, itulog at ipahinga niyo na lang muna...)

  

Supling ng sandaigdigang tulad rin naman ng punongkahoy at bituin, may karapatan kang manatili rito. At malinaw man sa'yo o hindi, walang dudang ang sandaigdigan ay bumubukadkad na tulad ng nararapat. Kung gayon, pakisamahan ang Panginoon, anuman ang pananaw mo sa kanya, at anuman ang iyong pinagkakaabalahan o minimithi. 

(Mabait ang Diyos, at hinding-hindi siya maninira, mangaalipusta ng kanyang mga nilikha... kaya kung ika'y nangangaral tungkol sa Diyos, huwag sana sa mapanglait na pamamaraan...)

Sa kabila ng pagkukunwari, kabagutan at gumuhong pangarap, maganda pa rin ang daigdig. 

(At yan ang totoo...)

  

Mag-ingat, sikaping lumigaya. 

(Oo...)

Maligayang bagong taon!

Love for sale

The posh hotel was quite impressive, I should've worn shoes instead of rubber slippers. The coffee did not taste burned (well, at least the first cup didn't) and the sandwich came with a tiny umbrella.

"We need your brain." All 8 or 9 or 10 of them said in perfect unison, and the man seated at the head of the table wolfing down a rather long longanisa looked up and smiled at me as if to say, "aren't these people great?

I said, What?

"We need some stuff in your brain for this things we're working on." What is this thing you're working on? "A beauty pageant." (Cue: Yanni music fades in).

A beauty pageant. I paused for a while (Yanni music up), wolfing down my 300-peso snack and thinking why I didn't order a 500-peso lunch instead like everybody else, it was past lunch afterall. and I thought they called me for a project that would present relevant social and cultural issues that could make the world a better place, or stop global warming.

"A beauty pageant can do that," said the man in between longanisa bites.

Sure, what's in it for me?

"Nothing."

Nothing. Sounds fair. But wait, this stuff you want... from my brain... you're just borrowing it, right? I mean, it's my stuff afterall.

"Er... yeah." (Music crossfades from Yanni to Mike Francis' "Lovely Day").

The man wasn't halfway through his longanisa when the first meeting ended.

So that night with a sterilized ice pick, a cuticle remover, a teaspoon and a plastic bag with ziplock, I picked my brain. They were nice people, and they were nice about it, so the pain was worth it (which wasn't much anyway), although it wasn't easy picking through the rubbish inside my head. Some brain stuff kept splashing on the heap of bond paper on my desk - I'll use them later for something. I carefully placed them inside the ziplock bag and went to bed, dreaming about tiny umbrellas and fog machines with pine-scented oil.

The next day, I hand over the ziplock bag to them (there were more of them, actually their numbers kept growing as we kept on having more meetings). This time I ordered for something in between a snack and a lunch - tapsilog here is served without a free bowl of soup like every other tapsilog place does, but that's ok. I should have ordered a longsilog.

"Hmmm, nice stuff," said one while sniffing the bag. Another opened the bag and dipped his finger in it and licked his finger, "would you have something in there to season this stuff a bit?"

You mean right here, right now?

"Uh-huh."

Good thing I brought that faux Swiss knife I won in a Christmas raffle. So right there, while everyone was enjoying either their grilled prawns or Caesar's salad or minestrone, I picked my brain. I added a bit of this and that into the ziplock bag and the bag was passed around and everybody dipped their fingers into the bag and then everybody licked their fingers and in perfect unison, just as the man at the head of the table who continued to eat his rather long longanisa from yesterday licked his fingers, they said, "Hmmmm, this is good. Take two bottles of freshly ground pepper and we'll call you in the morning."

I left feeling quite dizzy.They didn't call the next morning, but two mornings after. They wanted another meeting, and they wanted me to bring them more of that brain stuff. Like Clarisse Starling, I trustingly and blindly obeyed. This brain picking makes me hungry, and I was hungry on that third meeting, so I ordered something two notches classier than the soup-less tapsilog platter. The man still had that rather long longanisa from days ago.

As they passed around the new batch of stuff around, and just as I was picking through the extenders in my goulash, one of them, "there's one more thing we need."

What?

"Your heart."

My heart?

"Yup, we'll pay you."

How much?

"Your brain stuff's good, we're sure you heart's fine too, so name your price."

You do understand that if you take my heart I'll die, right?

"Really?"

Really. So here's the deal, I can give you a taste of my heart and let's take it from there. But bear in mind that I will never allow you to take all my heart away from me, you may use if for your... er... pageant, but it must always remain inside me, ok?

Again, in perfect unison, "ok." I forgot to cue the music for this scene.

We had 10 lunches after that, and on the 11th one which came after a breakfast, we stared at each other for hours until it was time for dinner and I was about to order something only to find out that they've alreay ordered something for me.

Pink salmon.

"Your heart's too expensive."I almost choked on the salmon I just put in my mouth, as if it's a rather long longanisa. Speaking with my mouth full of fish, I said that I wasn't selling my heart, I was merely letting them use it.

"But using it entails costs for us that we find too prohibitive, the equivalent cost of 6 luncheon meetings mean so much to us you know. And besides, we were just wondering if you'd actually sell your heart to us, but you won't, though renting it is fine with us too since we wouldn't need it anymore after the pageant and after we've taken our curtain calls."

I take a sip straight out of the Coke Light can. So what now?

"Actually, we don't really need a heart, all we need is an extra pair of hands... how much are those?"

They're not for sale.I left in such a haste that I forgot to retrieve the brain stuff in that ziplock bag. But that's ok, there's more where that came from. Like that rather long longanisa.

Isang Daan

In the early 90’s, the Baguio Arts Festival, then run by the Baguio Arts Guild, was among Baguio’s biggest tourist attractions, drawing both participants and audiences from here and abroad. But sadly, the annual holding of one of the country’s most successful art festivals seized with the last festival that was held back in 2002. Since then, no major artistic and cultural even has been held in the city. Or maybe there were, and I just missed them.

Baguio has always been an art haven, it is a fact that the city is home to many renowned artists. As another matter of fact, its artists are among Baguio’s greatest treasures. I’ve said it before, our city officials often mention this fact in their speeches and pitches, yet nothing much is really being done to develop and promote the local art scene. I really believe that only the artists themselves can revive the vibrant artistic and cultural skyline of Baguio.

I am dreaming of holding a week-long arts festival within Baguio’s Central Business District. The festival shall feature various artistic and cultural events with the various business establishments and institutions along Session Road and its environs as venues. The festival aims to promote the local art scene and at the same time help the local economy by attracting audiences/visitors to the city.

I am dreaming of photographs and paintings and installtion art pieces in banks, bookstores, hardware shops, poetry to go with your coffee, music to go with your family dinner, films out in the open, different stories that hopefully will provoke its audiences, the community, into taking a more active role in making Baguio a better place.

I dream that the festival may open with a parade along Session Road by the participating artists. With the local performing and visual artists at the forefront, this parade promises to be a real multi-sensory experience. I dream that during the festival proper, the community will be treated to exhibits, theatrical performances, performance art pieces, book launches & poetry readings, film showings and concerts held in the various establishments along Session Road as well as out in the open.

I dream that in closing, the last day of the exhibit, hopefully with Session Road closed to traffic, may feature a grand outdoor exhibit and performance.

I dream of all this happening right in the heart of Baguio City - Session Road.

Isang Daan – The First Session Road Arts Festival, a collaborative effort between the private sector and the city’s creative minds, joining hands to express the beauty, the dreams and sentiments of a century-old city, reviving the once world-renowned arts and culture scene of Baguio City.

Isang Daan – one hundred.

Isang Daan – a road.

Isang Daan – one common goal.

Hopefully, the city will wake up one November morning to find this dream becoming a reality.

Stream of consciousness... Attitude, aptitude, auditions, tales and stale coffee and solitude

Rehearsals... space not available 'til 7PM, we move upstairs, right on the stage.

Half the cast is late. That's ok. Short notice. Thanks for your patience, this production isn't a walk in the park. A couple of weeks ago, when the SM told some guy who came with his mom to the auditions to get ready with his audition piece, he turned to his mom and asked, "I have to audition?"

"It's ok, they just have to hear your voice so they know what role to give you."

I have to audition? Yes you have to audition. That's the thing with some of Baguio's actors... they do a couple of plays and they believe they've earned the right to be pre-cast and never to have to audition again. A couple of years ago, Ronnie and I went to couple of auditions for various film projects in Manila, nothing came out of it. But was lucky enough to be cast in Raymond's latest full length film. A cameo. Interesting.

Ethan worked on one of the musical's most vocally challenging musical numbers. One soprano tells me she's not sure if she can commit to the production. The three tenors have not shown up. Ethan does a great job with the lean cast. We pack up for the night as Baguio's most famous choir passes by - side glances, whispers.

We've decided to give way to the elders' production this first semester... we'll tell our story next sem.

No text from the producers yet. The car has been running on empty, cruising on neutral, but will soon be forced to grind to a halt as we approach an uphill climb. Winging it, as someone once said. May his soul rest in peace.

At the lobby, an official souvenir shop is selling official centennial souvenirs bearing the official centennial seal... you wanna consign some copies of your documentary?

Anyway.

We complain about the state of the local theater scene - partial or no government support, no venue, very little or no money... how much of yourself are you giving to your craft anyway? A partial income for a part time job sounds fair.

And then we were told, here are some solicitation letters, whatever you get, it's yours, let that be a partial payment of your respective honoraria. LOL. We want to tell stories, we don't wanna be told tales.

The song list says 40 to 41 musical numbers, 14 backing tracks done.

Then I ask myself, is this all worth it?

At the end of the day... a bunch of us smoke our one for the road. Someone says coffee, someone says yes, someone asks where, someone says there. Coffee sounds good, I could use a cup of coffee in the company of friends.

Invitors suddenly decline, half of them decides it's not worth it. That's ok. Sigh. Isang kape, please, sa baso. Deja vu. Haven't I been to this empty table before?

"Look around there's another mask behind you."

It's getting late, the coffee's stale. But it's good some stayed.

I wait in the car. He gets his dinner. She smokes by the window. He forgot his water bottle and she waits for him at the bottom of the road. The burger's cooked, I drive him home, I drive her home, and her too.

And then I answer myself, yeah, as far as I'm concerned, the dream is well worth it.