Congratulations, Baguio!

(article published in Cordillera Today last March 1, 2010)

By the time this sees print, the infamous concrete pine tree at the top of Session Road would have been felled already. The reactions we’ve heard so far were mostly praises, although there are still a few who actually continue to defend it and its creator. So what’s the big deal about the damned tree that made that has continually made it the topic of coffee shop and online talks, particularly during election time?

While on one side people are celebrating, on the other side they are trying to wash the hands of the root of that concrete monstrosity, some have even tried to direct the anger toward the current administration, even going as far as saying that it is them who are grandstanding, keeping it there to be used as political leverage in the coming elections. Maybe, maybe not, but while we do wonder why it took this long to finally rid the city of this blight, we must not forget the people who erected this monument to graft and corruption. We must remember that this concrete pine tree was just one, albeit the most prominent one being situated right at the top of the heart of the city, of a string of questionable “concretization” projects in the past. We are not talking about chump change here, the concrete tree alone cost more than a million pesos to build (perhaps enough money to do some substantial rehabilitation work at the Athletic Bowl without the need for foreign investors).

Approve without thinking, spend the people’s money without shame. And why? Who in his right mind would erect a concrete pine tree in the land of pine trees? What were its proponents thinking? Wasn’t there even one person in that circle who could’ve raised the alarm and said, “sir, that’s a stupid idea.” And in a city once famous for its natural beauty, who in his right mind would build something that is fake, a pathetic, ugly, repulsive imitation of a beautiful thing? Really, would anyone put up fake snow in Aspen or Styrofoam pyramids in Giza?
The concrete pine tree was the perfect epitome of a rotten political system – hard-earned taxpayers’ money being spent on something ugly, illogical, totally unnecessary, just so someone can satisfy his megalomaniacal tendencies. What a waste.

One actually cried foul over its demolition saying that getting rid of it is such a huge waste of taxpayers’ money. No sir, keeping it there and not doing anything about it just reminds us of how acquiescent we have become that our elected officials can commit such dastardly acts with impunity knowing that they can get away with it.

The money was already wasted when they built that thing, keeping it there is almost like a declaration that we don’t mind that the people’s money is wasted on useless pieces of (s)crap.
Now, an installation using river stones will be put in its place, the creation of local artist, Gilbert Gano, in collaboration with a group of architects and engineers. An artwork that aims to remind us of the historical significance of Session Road, and perhaps of the city’s entire glorious history. Now, that one makes sense. Knowing where this city came from and how it got to where it is now, perhaps we will be more vigilant in the future and never allow a concrete pine tree to be erected in Baguio ever again.

It’s a small step towards the right direction, a small one, yes, but a step forward nonetheless. And for that, congratulations, Baguio!

14, 100 reloaded and two love stories

February 14 was never really a special day for me and my wife – any given day can turn into Valentine’s Day in a beautiful city like Baguio. Here in Baguio, sometimes just walking hand in hand with your loved one to where you take your jeep to go home can turn into a most romantic stroll through afternoon sun-kissed flower gardens and trees. At times Mother Nature may even treat you to a dramatic display of fog gently rolling in, skimming just above the lake where other lovers in boats come in and out of view to tell their stories.

But, it is Valentine’s Day, and while I most probably won’t be wearing red, I thought I’d share with you an article I wrote last July as my wife, RL, and I celebrated our 14th year together, just weeks away from Baguio’s 100th, with a little alteration, to retell the story of two of my greatest loves. So here it is 14, 100, reloaded …

Our 14th year, no precious stones, no grand getaways, just an evening with friends, an evening of whisky and brandy and chicharon, at an exhibit opening and at table number one in Luisa’s on Session Road. A beer brought over from Rumours next door. Acquaintances slip in and out. Monsoon rains raging outside. “Really?” this paper’s editor-in-chief asked, in between brandy refills, “14 years? This calls for a toast!” And so we raised our glasses for the sixth or seventh or eighth time last night. We have been raising our glasses to Baguio, our dreams for Baguio and our resolve to realize those dreams, all night. In my mind, I’m writing a song…

Nung una kitang makilala, aking mahal, ang aking puso’y nabihag ng ‘yong kariktan. Magmula noon, ‘di ko na kayang mawalay sa’yo. Kafagway sa yakap mo ako’y hihimlay, pinapawi mo’ng lumbay na aking taglay… Kafagway. In my mind the word Kafagway and my wife’s name crossfade.
So there, it’s been 14 years since the day we decided to spend the rest of our lives together, and that life has been closely intertwined with Baguio's last 14 years, or perhaps the last one hundred. And then, another song…


“Halimuyak ng mga pino nariyan na, nagsasabing ako’y malapit na. Ilang sandal na lang, akin na’ng masisilayan – kabundukang nababalot ng dilaw at luntian. Patungo sa puso ng Cordillera, daang malapit sa mga ulap, puno ng talinhaga. Dugo at pawis ang gumuhit ng ‘yong kasaysayan, walang sawa kong tatahakin ang ‘yong kagandahan”
It’s been quite an adventure – we’ve lived in a rundown apartment tucked away in a corner in Campo Sioco (named after one of the fathers of the city), in a friend’s house in Mines View (which once offered a magnificent view of vestiges of Baguio’s gold rush in its early years), in Gen. Luna and Gen. Malvar streets (reminders of Baguio’s role in our nation’s struggle for independence). We now live on Asin Road, a stone’s throw away from the Ifugao carvers’ village, and just a little further down the road is Asin’s famous hot springs (which has drawn visitors since the time of the Spaniards). For 14 years we have walked the streets of Baguio, saw the construction of tall buildings and flyovers that ruined the beautiful skyline, the transformation of Camp John Hay and the deterioration of the Baguio Convention Center. Malls sprouting one after another in different parts of the city, the closing down of theaters along Session Road, a snatcher being chased by the police and young men hurting each other for no reason. And we told these stories to the community, my wife and I. We staged plays that we believed asked relevant questions, that provoked, inspired, painted the real picture. We made films that reminded all of us of the city’s beautiful history. We’ve tried to voice out the aspirations of the community, its heartaches, its dreams…


“Ang mithiin ng Baguio, isapuso mo, itaguyod mo, isulong mo
Ang kailangan ng Baguio, ikaw at ako.”
Here’s wishing you a special Valentine’s Day. As for me and my wife, we’ve got each other – her and I, and Baguio, that’s all we need for an all-year Valentine.

As for Baguio, well, what she needs is you and I.

Stop and smell the roses

Stalls selling RTW, miscellaneous export overruns, and shoes from Marikina. Big tents set up by telecom and cigarette companies and those nifty gift items they give away and amusing promotional gimmicks they come up with to grab the attention of passers-by. Rows and rows of food stalls selling shawarma, sweet corn-on-the-cob, and barbecue.Free rock concerts that hopefully won’t result in brawls between intoxicated under-aged members of rival gangs.

Sure, there’s the occasional stall actually selling plants and flowers, usually outnumbered by stalls selling plastic flowers and other fake plants.

Because of the way it has evolved through the years, these are the things that usually come to mind when you mention Panagbenga, or the Baguio Flower Festival. Sadly, it has ceased to be a celebration of Baguio’s natural beauty and has become a mere month-long tiangge. It seems like the only thing that somehow still relates to anything floral are the parades, and even those now showcase fake flowers made of plastic and crepe paper.

Add to that the sight of politicians, since according to the guidelines issued by the organizers, political parties will actually be allowed to participate in the float parade as long as they “don’t shake the hands of spectators so as not to disrupt the flow of the parade.” Great.

If this trend continues, then we might as well stop calling it the Bagiuo Flower Festival and call it simply, the Baguio Festival, or maybe The-Festival-That-Just-Happens-to-be-Held-in-Baguio.

A century and a half ago, when the Spaniards finally succeeded in conquering this part of the Cordilleras with the intention of getting their hands on the area’s riches, particularly gold, they were stunned by Benguet’s sheer beauty: its magnificent skyline, its healthful climate, the presence of plants, flowers and vegetables that do not grow elsewhere in the country, all of these made the colonizers turn their attention to the creation of a health resort, or a hill station in what was then known as Kafagway.

So you would think that a festival called Panagbenga would be a celebration of that distinct natural beauty that captivated our colonizers more than a hundred years ago - those sunflowers that begin to blanket the mountainsides in November, the roses that grow so succulently all year round, the marigolds, snapdragons, carnations, daisies, lilies that can be found all over Baguio.

Or maybe at least call attention to the simply beautiful but sadly slowly vanishing Benguet Lily, endemic to this part of the country, which dies when taken out of its natural environment (very much like the city itself).

Not so long ago, we took a walk around the city’s downtown area to take photos of whatever flowers we may find along the way, and were amazed by the number of different species, as shown in the photos, that can be found just within Baguio’s Central Business District.

Yup, they’re there, taken for granted, mostly unnoticed.

Which makes one think, why do they keep on coming up with “new, innovative ideas” that are supposed to make the festival better, when Panagbenga’s, or the Baguio Flower Festival’s supposed raison d’etre can be found all over the place? Stop and smell the roses that are right under your noses.

Children of Coroz

I first met the children of Coroz last November, 2009 when I joined the team of artists from the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) on a visit to three areas affected by last year’s devastating typhoons for art therapy sessions. We spent two days in Coroz, Tublay, Benguet and at the end of the second day, I knew I would be going back there some time soon. I did last Friday.

I needed help, so I broached the idea to members of our theater group, Open Space, and after getting the commitment of some of the members, my wife, RL, solicited the help of the Fernando & Rosa Bautista (FRB) Foundation through Ms. Kristine Bautista-Sameon, who almost immediately agreed to the proposal: a workshop that will introduce the children to the wonderful world of theater and hopes to help the community in Coroz put together their very own theater group.

In the more than 20 years that I have been in theater, I have been to countless workshops, both as a student and a facilitator. As a young boy of 10, I learned about props making in that very first workshop I attended at my mother’s Workshop for Creative Survival. In that workshop, we turned what mostly seemed like garbage into backdrops and hand props: a two-dimensional 10-foot by 30-foot landscape made of discarded computer printouts (some of which we recycled into notebooks and photo albums), a lion headdress made out of shredded newspapers, etc. I learned about group dynamics exercises in several teen theater workshops at the CCP and in one held by actors from the Royal Shakespeare Academy, I learned about method acting. Up north and in the mountains of Baguio and the Cordilleras, I have conducted creative dramatics workshops for children in Baguio, Kabayan, Banawe and Ilocos Norte. I would never forget that the boy from Laoag whom his mother described as having been very shy, even antisocial, all his life. I cast him as the lead performer in that workshop’s culminating activity and his mother couldn’t believe her eyes as she watched her son take center stage to tell his story. In Kabayan, the theater group that the Cordillera Green Network helped put together through its workshops, one of which I was fortunate enough to have been a part of, has been staging plays that are entertaining while at the same time thought-provoking and educational.

These experiences, and the countless possibilities it can open up in the individual, are what I wanted to share with the children of Coroz.

And so last Friday, with my wife, stage actress RL-Abella-Altomonte, fellow theater artists Ro Quintos, Jeff Coronado and Eunice Caburao, together with photographer Jojo Lamaria and whom I believe is my theater-bound 11 year-old son, Leon, at half-past eight in the morning, we were waiting along the highway somewhere in Tublay for the jeepney that was hired by the FRB Foundation to take us through that rugged dirt road to Coroz.

The FRB team, led by Ms. Sameon included social workers of the foundation, its scholar-barbers and cosmeticians who will be providing free haircuts to the children and bags and bags of goodies (clothes, food, etc.), soon arrived and another 30 minutes later, we were being welcomed by the excited elementary pupils at the school grounds.

After starting the day with morning snacks, the workshop proper began with warm-up exercises and vocalization. The day’s session aims to simply introduce them to theater, and we opened with a conversation about plays they’ve seen (they haven’t and most of them had no idea what a stage play is), their favorite movies, stories, etc.

We then introduced them to what I believe are the four major elements of theater – idea/story, space, artist, and last but not the least, audience. And then the fun began – group dynamics exercises to emphasize the concepts of collaboration and cooperation which are very important in a collaborative art form such as theater.

Before the morning was over, we had the kids going “onstage” and infront of an audience to tell their personal stories and dreams: most of them want to become teachers, nurses and policemen, several dream of becoming missionaries... one of them want to become the president of our country.

After lunch we brought out the paints and brushes and canvases and encouraged the pupils to imagine themselves as the persons they want to become, and how that person relates to the community – and two hours later the school grounds was covered with paintings of teachers in classrooms, policemen and nurses helping those in need, missionaries working with the community in building houses, and at the end of the day, after several free haircuts and after handing out gifts, we knew we would have to come back again soon.

And when we do, our next task would be: bring a whole performance to Coroz to show them what they themselves can do on their own some time in the near future – tell their very own stories.

Have cane, will go places

One step at the wrong time on the wrong spot, the earth beneath shifted and my left knee twisted too far towards one side, way farther than the ligament in there can handle – a sprain and no, I did not hear any sound that would indicate any dislocation.


The twisting itself wasn’t that painful, but I knew that whatever movement I make thereafter would be, so there I was halfway up the knoll behind the house that I was cleaning up the morning after Christmas, frozen. I ventured a small movement, and the pain was almost unbearable.


Naipitan ng ugat, a friend ventured that evening. He said it may have to be “snapped back into place,” and I almost fainted when he tried to do just that. No more snapping of anything back into place.


I reached for a wooden walking cane that was once used as a prop by an 80-something character in a play years ago. And for the next few days, the cane I went places.


At the mall, I got to park the car (thank God for automatic transmission, I could still drive) at the space reserved for the differently-abled, which meant a shorter walk from the car to the entrance. Nice.


Limping and walking with a cane, the security guard at the mall entrance for once didn’t think I’m up to no good and waived the S.O.P. of frisking me and poking inside my bag with a wooden stick. Nice. The limping even merited a rare bow and smile from him. Nicer, and odd.


The next day, again at the mall but this time without the car, I fell in line for a cab, and the guard offered to put me ahead of the twenty or so people in front of me. Cool, but I declined.


Day two, I thought the sight of the cane would afford me some consideration from motorists going down Session Road. Besides, cane or no cane, motorists are required to go to a full stop at pedestrian crossings. No luck. It’s still a game of patintero. If only that cab that just sped inches from me was going any slower, I could’ve used the cane to smack a window or a taillight.


No, it’s not gout (not yet, anyway), I told the familiar faces in Luisa’s. Really, it’s a sprain. That same evening, next door in Rumours, I again had to disappoint familiar faces… it’s not gout and neither is it arthritis. Yeah, sure, whatever, one replied (the place isn't called Rumours for nothing, you know).


A week or so since that fateful and painful morning, I’m wearing a knee brace, the knee’s getting better, no more swelling and pain has subsided and we’re at the beach. The next morning, I woke up my son for a pre-sunrise walk along the shoreline of Canaoay, San Fernando, La Union. Not paying much attention to the sand underneath my feet (we were totally amused by the ongoing power play between two rival gangs of dogs both trying to protect their respective turfs), that injured leg fell into a hole in the sand which made me want to bite a chunk of flesh off my arm. But some five minutes later, the knee actually started feeling much better. Cool, maybe that “snapped some misplaced thing back into place.”


Later that day, I even went for a short swim and the knee did just fine.


Back in Baguio, I was back in the garden. And for an instant, to pick up a potted plant, I totally forgot about the injury and knelt down, putting all my weight on what turned out to be an un-completely healed left knee. The pain was back. And now the wife’s on my back – go see a doctor!


I did the next day. He bent it this way, that way, sideways, and yes, it’s a sprain, and it’s quite bad. A torn medial collateral ligament with grade 2 symptoms. A 5-day therapy was prescribed.


First day, four electronic thingamajigs were attached around the damned knee – twenty minutes of electrocution (that’s how it felt anyway). Then twenty minutes of ultrasound treatment followed by a 10-minute massage. On the third day, some stretching exercises were added to the regimen. On the 5th day the therapist rested.


I saw the doctor again on the 6th. Though its condition improved a lot, he prescribed another five days of sessions with the hospital’s lone physical therapist. Doing what this time? The doctor said he’ll forward his recommended treatment to the therapist himself.


The next day, the therapist was surprised to see me. The doctor told me to go for five more. Did he tell you what exactly we’re supposed to do? , she asked. No, I thought he’d tell you that himself. So we did what we did last week. What exactly does that electronic thingamajig does? Relieve pain (but it wasn’t painful anymore). How about the ultrasound thingy? It’s a notch or two better than just a hot compress, it speeds up the healing process. So a hot compress would do. And I can do these same exercises at home. And my wife, who just bought me a nice new cane (the handle of the other one cracked, I need to lose some weight), can do that same massage you’re doing (even better).


The therapist reminded me to keep on using my cane even if I could already support myself on that injured knee, just to make me not forget that the knee wasn’t completely well yet.


Better parking, a smile and a nod, and I can get ahead of the line, so – sure, my pleasure. I paid the second week’s first session and went straight to the market to buy new plants for the garden.


Gout? The person manning the store where I buy pots asked when he saw me limping. Nah, I just really like this cane.

The Memorandum and Scare Tactics (in stereo)

The first photo (the skating rink taken from, well, SM) was taken a few years ago, and the second one just a few months ago. Development?



On the one hand, the controversial Memorandum of Agreement is being downplayed as nothing more than an understanding between two parties, the City Government and the development proponents, to pursue and study the possibility of developing the Athletic Bowl. When the MOA was brought to the attention of the public via online status updates and blog entries, we saw how quickly our “honorables,” not unlike Pilate, washed their hands. One “honorable” declared that the whole thing was suspect and did not follow the proper process – of course he didn’t now this when he signed the endorsement and there was still no public opposition to it. Another “honorable” lucky enough to be absent when the MOA was deliberated upon by the City Council and who has done nothing significant at all for Burnham Park in the last two terms suddenly positioned herself as the “only one taking a valiant stand” against this controversial MOA. Bull. There’s a fine line between taking a “valiant stand” and positioning and scoring PR points. It’s election time, after all. (And in case you haven’t noticed, I always place the word “honorable” in quotation marks).

On the other hand, you have the opposition, some of whom are themselves guilty of twisting facts to suit their own agenda. We don’t need to resort to that, really. The fact that there was an attempt to railroad a development project is enough reason to protest. The fact that it was allegedly endorsed by the City Council in record time is enough reason to create some noise. News reports and op-ed pieces condemning the deal and purposely omitting some of the city government's clarifications on the issue were praised to high heavens, but when the issue was reported by another local daily, howls of protests were heard online calling that paper’s, which happen to be partly owned by the mayor’s father, reporting biased. I read the news report in question and found out that it presented the same facts as what the other papers did, except that equal space was given to both sides of the argument.

Let me reiterate and go on record first: I am against the development of the Athletic Bowl, or Burnham Park as a whole, into something that it is not. The Athletic Bowl is a sports facility. A hotel and commercial complex have no place there. And we don’t need another golf course in this city. Daniel Burnham reserved that largest piece of level-land in Baguio for the masses, and to serve as the lungs of the then future city. Let’s keep it that way. Or develop it that way. I jog there, once or twice a week. My children play there, at least thrice a week. I will do whatever I can to help keep it that way. Or develop it that way.

For while you would want to keep it the way it is, the sight last week of Baguio’s young athletes doing the hundred meter dash barefoot was heartbreaking. When I asked a couple of teachers who were supervising that morning’s competitions about it, I was told that while it‘s true that some of the city’s athletes cannot afford to buy a decent pair of running shoes, others decide to do away with shoes during competition for one’s bare soles provide better traction on the track’s dirt surface. No question about it, the place needs to be rehabilitated.

The good thing about the whole Athletic Bowl brouhaha is that it brought to the fore the current state of our city’s main park. The discussions online have spilled over the perimeter of the Athletic Bowl to the now privatized skating rink to the ongoing fencing project. But the sad thing is that facts are being twisted, blown out of proportion and purposely taken out of context by both sides.

“Are you scared? Are you very scared? Well, you shouldn’t be, because you’re on Scare Tactics!” So goes the line from a reality television show where they create make-believe scenarios to scare “victims” usually set up by a friend, a relative or a colleague.

I turn off the television and go online and there it is: Scare Tactics, in stereo.

Misdirected Initiative of Energetic Lumbermen

The news was certainly enough to make your blood boil: the Baguio Athletic Bowl being rented out for a measly 100k a month to a Korean investor who will put up, as alleged in several blog entries, among other things, the following in the area: a commercial complex, a hotel and a golf course.

I wanted to get it straight from the horse’s mouth, so I made it a point to attend the next morning’s “Ugnayan” with the City Mayor. The mayor began the morning's session with an update of what has happened in the last days of 2009 and the first few days of the New Year, and towards the end he attempted to shed light on the Baguio Athletic Bowl issue.

There is a proposal to develop the Baguio Athletic Bowl, he said, and yes, the main proponent is a Korean national. And yes, the proposal is for a 25-year lease. And although halfway though the press con I was already lost in semantics and drowning in government-ese, what I understood from the Mayor’s statements was that the MOA that was signed between him and the proponents was only meant to get the ball rolling, pursue/study the proposal, which he said was only the first step (Grade One) in getting anything done at all.

And as to the details of the proposed development, there is simply none yet, but he did venture some conjectures as to the alleged chismis spreading like wildfire in various online forums.

The proposed rehabilitation and development of the Baguio Atheltic Bowl, he added, which has been in existence for years now but never implemented because of lack of funds and certain administrative issues, has always included: a dormitory for athletes to be located below the bleachers (and that, he said, was blown out of proportion, hence the rumors about a hotel); a driving range (a golf course?) and coffee shops / snack bars / shops that will service the the athletes/users of the facility (a commercial complex).

He thanked everyone for coming to that morning’s forum to get the “real picture” and not rely only on “online chismis” in online social networking sites.

But, chismis or not, the good thing is that the heated discussions on Facebook.com, Multiply.com and various blogs reminded the powers-that-be that they are being closely watched and that the people of Baguio have become much more vigilant.

For me, though, another issue here is that word, "development," and it scares me. As I have said in the past, Baguio's raison d'être is its natural beauty. Anything, as in ANYTHING, you add to, erect, build in Baguio will definitely take away from that natural beauty - whether it's a mere house (no matter how beautiful that house is, it would still scar the land), or a ridiculously huge mall (bye, bye beautiful skyline). Take away as little possible from that natural beauty, I say. Less, in Baguio, is definitely a lot more.

And that's why the word scares me, because in Baguio, development means building "something", and given the track record of our city officials, that could be anything from a totaly unnecessary flyover or a horrendous concrete pine tree. Or a "shed" over a park. The list goes on.

The development of the Baguio Athletic Bowl should be limited to its main function - a center for athletic events. Improve the oval, maybe, rehablitate the bleachers, beautify the surroundings, but its development must not go beyond improving it as a sports facility.

And, seriously, another golf course? For a small city like Baguio, we have too many of that already.

Daniel Burnham was right when he said:

“Unless early protective measures are taken,

the misdirected initiative of energetic lumbermen

will soon cause the destruction of this beautiful scenery.”

As of yesterday, the update on the issue was that the Korean proponents were scared off by the fast growing opposition to their proposal. So for now, those online status updates, blog entries and other online forums serve well as early protective measures, or perhaps as early warning devices.

Let’s keep our eyes open.