The Little Tin God

Political violence is common if not the norm in Philippine politics. Prior to the declaration of our independence more than a hundred years ago, our founding oligarchs still found time to whack each other out in order to gain control of the new political order. They were like mongrels fighting over scraps – pathetic. The plebeian Andres Bonifacio, who led the revolution against our old Spanish masters was the first prominent victim of the violent power struggle among Filipinos in the shortlived first Philippine republic. Emerging victorious, Aguinaldo (FYI: this guy framed Bonifacio and ordered his summary execution, pina-salvage na), lost no time to bask in his political glory by unwittingly declaring independence for the archipelago at his residence in Cavite. And the rest was history…

We were up to a bad start. To the unfamiliar, it should be noted that it was the shrewd and scheming Humabon who manipulated Magellan and his men to invade Lapulapu’s turf in the 16th century. Humabon had a grudge against Lapulapu. The arrogant and cocky Magellan even boasted that their guns and swords would be enough to subdue the bamboo spears of the heathens and there was no need to wear heavy armor. Sadly for Magellan, it cost him his life. Interestingly, after losing this battle, the surviving men of Magellan were tricked by Humabon to a sumptuous feast and slaughtered them when they got drunk and the rest were taken prisoners and sold to slave traders. (He was really pissed off by their defeat and worthlessness.)

Anthropologically and demographically, our distrust and disloyalty to one another is fueled by our diverse ethnicity, regional, feudal and clannish tradition. I find it unfair to use the crab as an analogy for our selfishness and egocentricity since contrary to the popular adage, if you observe these carefully, the crabs were actually pushing each other up! Wasn’t him, the late Claro M. Recto who said that as individuals we are successful achievers but as a nation we fail? But wait, I am not going to talk about this.

The past and recent political killings in La Union, particularly in Tubao, is a classic example of the primitive egotistical masturbation of psychopathic individuals who fancy themselves as gods in their petty squabbles over their political dominions. Like feudal lords in medieval times, eliminating their enemies through the use of force and violence is their way of flaunting their power and authority. It seems the stakes in politics are so high nowadays, that it’s worth killing or being killed to protect one’s interest.

But Tubao is not unique. Almost every corner of this country has similar or far more ruthless incidents of political killings and violence - ubiquitously endemic, so to say. Obviously, it’s even impossible to compare it to the violence happening right now in Iraq and Zimbabwe. What makes it interesting though is the psychological effect it leaves on the impressionable minds of the common folk which ultimately waxes their fear and apathy. It gives them the bonus thrill and melodrama typical of soap operas they watch every day and night in the local t.v. channels with a twist and flavor of Tubao politics and intrigues. Some would shrug off their shoulders and ignore the trivialities, but to the familiar kibitzer (often those who are abroad), it relishes their appetite for the hottest news they could devour from their tiny sleepy town of Tubao. They feed on misery and gossip. For them, nothing can be more entertaining than witnessing the fall of the rich and the mighty; the humiliation of the hypocritical sinner, or the death and punishment of a despised enemy, neighbor or relative. But what could the poor and the helpless do? The truth is - they are mere subjects and victims of this callous display of brawn and greed.

Our “little tin god” had risen from obscurity to notoriety. In its desperate attempt to compensate for its mediocrity, its idea of grandiosity and megalomania is unfortunately disconnected and delusional. It had a promising start but hubris and avarice corrode its surface until it rots away exposing its brittle and precarious form. It’s only a matter of time before it could be proven to perpetuate itself or replaced by another for people to worship and fear.

In the meantime, Tubao could only be seen on the map of La Union with this mortifying and confounding reputation.

Living and Surviving

*ORGANIZED CHAOS: free firewood for the people of Tubao, courtesy of typhoon Cosme

I am a person with so many passions but have so little time to pursue them all. My constant struggle against mediocrity is among those. I dread the ordinary, the mundane, the middling, the stereotypical… I find it ironic to live in a place like Tubao to yearn for the best or the things that could satisfy my erudition. Yet I find solace in this place to reflect on my own flaws of which I could certainly share as a common denominator with every other person on this planet.

I don't mind living in Tubao as long as I have my wireless internet and satellite television to distract me from its lethargy, yet I could not help noticing the often familiar but intriguing passions of its people in pursuing their own personal battles as they face them everyday.

When typhoon Cosme (kapigsaan diay a bagyo a napootak) battered La Union and other neighboring provinces almost two weeks ago, I thought a lot of people in Tubao would end up like those helpless people in Myanmar (Burma) who were also recently been battered by an almost equally powerful cyclone.

The typhoon caught us by surprise. Nobody expected it would hit us that soon since people were still nursing a hangover from the week-long fiesta. In fact, that late afternoon of the 17th when the typhoon came, they were still preparing for the balikbayan night. Sapay nakasaganan ken nakasukaten dagiti D.I. (dance instructors) ti balikbayan a mahilig ti ballroom dancing. Napaway met lakay! The fiesta ended in disaster.

It was a long and fierce night… the sound of flying debris from falling trees, bamboo shacks and roofs competed with the howling wind and rain. I was hounded by paranoia if our roof would also be blown away and destroy the only shelter that protected us. Images of the aftermath of hurricane Katrina in New Orleans started to haunt me. I was petrified. I was wondering if Tubao would ever recover from such a disaster.

The typhoon left as soon as it came. By 5 o’clock on the following morning, it was over. As daylight started to illuminate the heap of destruction left by the typhoon, reality sunk in. Streets were littered with debris from almost every species of foliage in our area, fallen trees, electric posts, branches, leaves, metal roofs, capiz window panels, cable wires etc. There has been no electricity since the afternoon of the 17th, and judging by the extent of the damage on the infrastructure (electric posts, cables, roads, bridges, residential houses, buildings) it would take a longer period before power could be fully restored. As of this writing there are still many areas that don’t have electricity, especially in far barangays including the municipality of Rosario, some parts of Agoo, Sto. Tomas and a large part of Pangasinan.

Astoundingly, there was something I noticed in the middle of the ensuing chaos. I was amazed at the resilience of the common folks – as soon as daybreak came they began to pick up the pieces of their ordinary lives the typhoon destroyed and left behind. Some started fixing their roofs that had been blown away, others started to gather the fallen branches of trees for their firewood while several others foraged for useful debris that could be used to patch up their broken shacks and homes. People didn’t wait for rescue or assistance from government agencies unlike in U.S. where medical rescue and disaster relief teams would come. In the Philippines, nothing will come. People rescue and help themselves. By the end of the day, the streets were cleared, leaves and debris were swept and burned, roofs were fixed and life goes on…

The Flip Side

Behind this picturesque rustic setting and the seemingly mundane lethargic lifestyle of its people is a flip side that deserves attention and interest worthy of blogging for posterity.

The image on the top header is a picture I took while traversing the river in Barangay Rizal last year. The scenery caught me and the urge to take a shot of this escaping image from my view is defiantly irresistible. Somehow, the obscure beauty of this place has eluded me all these years, and has eluded even the most profound description I could muster. Indeed, a picture speaks a thousand words. I went on further to take pictures of natural sceneries in other distant barangays like Pideg and Linapew (respectively, above and below) during my visits to these places and managed to collect a variety of images which I’m planning to post later on this blog. These pictures convinced me to create this blog for Tubao as an outlet to promote and inform Tubaoeños especially those who are living and working abroad about the things they are missing in their hometown. I have observed that very few balikbayans or even the transient vacationer had visited these places.

Of course, I’m not just going to write about sceneries or photographs. Much of the space of this blog would be later filled by a mélange of topics and razor-sharp slivers of interesting stories from the flip side that is Tubao.