The DDS Are Killjoys

After the Philippines was battered by tropical cyclones and heavy southwest monsoon rains a couple of months ago, which resulted in predictable but deadly flash floods, Filipinos are now suddenly -- ironically -- hopeful.

And why wouldn't they be? When the water subsided, anger rose, and President Bongbong Marcos just had to douse the collective rage during his State of the Nation Address. (After spending most of his term thus far gallivanting abroad [a la Sara Duterte] in the name of "generating investments," but not much to show for it, Marcos didn't have a choice. He was already earning the ire of the eagle-eyed; it's easy nowadays to track the frequency of his foreign trips and the corresponding travel expenses.) 

"Mahiya naman kayo," Marcos intoned (an ironic choice of words, don't you think?), singling out those involved in anomalous flood-control projects.

Pasig City Mayor Vico Sotto went a step further in a Facebook post, and zeroed in on Sarah and Curlee Discaya, whose myriad of "companies" helped them amass a fortune, two of which were included in Marcos's top 15 DPWH contractors. And it didn't help that the Discayas absolutely love flaunting their (ill-gotten?) wealth, in the form of luxury cars, with Sarah proudly telling Julius Babao that she specifically chose the Rolls Royce because she fancied the umbrella that came with it.  

The floodgates (pun intended) are wide open, and the ordinary folk are hoping that they don't close anytime soon -- hence, this wellspring of hope. (Some have audaciously begun comparing the protests in Indonesia and Nepal to the Arab Spring, a series of anti-government protests that spread across the Arab world in the early 2010s -- hoping that Filipinos will follow suit.) As it is, contractors, senators, congressmen, and corrupt DPWH officials are scrambling to put a finger in the dike, but with pillage of this scale, it's hard to put the genie back in the bottle.

Or is it?

After all, we're talking about the Philippines here. A day ago, Batangas 2nd District Representative Gerville Luistro called out Curlee Discaya during the House infra committee hearing for having "selective amnesia."

"Would you have us believe," Luistro said, "that there are people making kickback requests under the current administration but none did during the past one [under Rodrigo Duterte]?"

Luistro accused Discaya of having selective amnesia; I'd argue that the Filipino people as a whole have COLLECTIVE amnesia.

Exhibit A is Senator Jinggoy Estrada of course, and his involvement in Janet Lim-Napoles's pork barrel scam. But because we're Filipinos, he got away scot-free, even managing to win this current Senate term, and now he's once again facing accusations of pocketing flood-control money.

Filipinos are suddenly hopeful, after Indonesia managed to force a Cabinet shake-up, with Nepal following suit.

I, personally, am less hopeful. This isn't EDSA 1 and 2, where there was a collective goal that spurred collective action. In this case, the biggest hurdle for widespread change in the country are the Die-hard Duterte Supporters or DDS.

Even now, the DDS are attacking Vico Sotto, after he voiced his displeasure at the Discayas' alleged lies, chief among them the statement that they'd only earn 2 to 3 percent from a government project, 5 percent if they were -- in Curlee's own words -- "lucky." Sotto is advocating for complete transparency, as is anyone who has a stake in this, naturally the taxpaying public, but the DDS are advocating for complete opacity -- at least when it comes to the presidential term of their Po-on, their beloved and infallible Tatay Digong.

I saw someone's hilarious post recently here on Facebook: "Discaya-Duterte Supporters." Now the DDS are clamoring for the Discayas to be put on the Witness Protection Program (WPP), never mind that they are the least qualified to be state witnesses, for obvious reasons. This is like putting Napoles on the WPP for orchestrating that PDAF scam.

Like others, I'd like to believe that there's hope for this country yet. Heck, that sounds strange to me because we've gone through two EDSA Revolutions already. Who says we can't engineer (pun definitely intended) a third one?

The DDS, with their collective will to cover up for their Tatay -- that's who.

Breaking Bad Philippines

To break bad means to turn to immorality or crime.

Walter White in "Breaking Bad" turned to the illegal drug trade -- transitioning from chemistry teacher to meth cook and eventually drug lord -- out of necessity. He thought he was dying, and was worried for his family's future.

Walter broke bad. These contractors, politicians, and corrupt DSWD heads are just, well, naturally evil.

 

Still No to the Death Penalty

This knee-jerk clamor for bringing back the death penalty to punish plunderers and corrupt government officials is putting the cart before the horse.

FIRST, let's make sure that the guilty ones go to jail and not get away scot-free, especially the ones who can buy their freedom using not just money but also power and privilege -- the Eraps, the Jinggoys, the Arroyos, the Bong Revillas, the Imeldas.

ONLY THEN can we think about bringing back capital punishment.

(Better yet, make an example of that jet-setting daughter of the dirty old man in the Hague, who spent her confidential funds faster than the Discayas could amass a fleet of luxury cars.)

Otherwise, the only ones hanging from that noose are, again, the poor and the powerless -- regardless of whether they are guilty or not.

"Distractions"

The recent news of Royina Garma's decision to testify against Rodrigo Duterte at the ICC has been labeled an unnecessary distraction from the current Senate hearing on the substandard flood-control projects and the massive corruption behind them. 

A distraction? Not really. You can call something a distraction if the newer issue isn't of equal weight. "Distraction" here only depends whether you're a DDS or a Marcos loyalist. Not both, because, as well all know, Unity doesn't exist anymore. But that's another story. Or issue. Or "distraction."

For instance, when this DPWH-Discayas-congressmen thing exploded, people were quick to say that it was a distraction from the missing sabungeros case. 

And can someone refresh my memory please: what distracted us again from that Alice Guo issue? 

What's sadder to me is that all these "distractions" seem to come out of the blue, rapid-fire -- one after the other, leaving us with no breathing room. That they distract us, a captive audience, is what's wrong with our country in the first place.

They shouldn't be taken singularly as things that distract us from one issue or the other. They should be taken as a whole as in WTF, why are we allowing ALL THESE MOTHERFUCKERS to screw us, the country, our children, and their future children?

Massive corruption, extrajudicial killings, murder, illegal gambling, illegal aliens masquerading as Filipino politicians etc. etc. shouldn't be pitted against each other by being labeled as distractions. That minimizes the harm that has already been done.

That kind of thinking distracts us from the real issue: these aren't trivial spectacles. They are a matter of life and death.

Petty Is As Petty Does

Last night I called an Uber from my mother-in-law's house (my wife was staying the night with her) to take me home to our apartment, and I noticed that the car was driving away from me. The driver was already in the immediate vicinity, about two minutes away, but I noticed right away that he was driving in the opposite direction. (And no, he wasn't finishing a previous trip.)

I'm not new to the ride-hailing game, fuck no. And heck, I'm from the Philippines. A lot of Grab drivers use this tactic too, in the hopes that the passenger will cancel to avoid a penalty.

The problem is, I can be petty as fuck. There was no way in hell I would cancel the ride before that scumbag of a driver did, and so I was already preparing to spend the night sleeping on the couch at my mother-in-law's living room -- to, at first, my wife's amusement and then, later on, to her chagrin (she was pissed, all right: more at me than at the Uber driver. And I couldn't blame her. Lol).

And so there I was, comfortable on the couch, actually beginning to doze off and fighting off sleep, while the driver continued driving home and hoping that I'd cancel (it was already late, close to 11:00 p.m., which was why I didn't take a bus or the subway, which I prefer). I even saw on the map that he was already more than 30 minutes away from me, and he finally parked his car in what I assumed was his garage, while he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Oh you chose to fuck with the wrong guy, my friend.

And then, finally, he cancelled and Uber assigned me a new driver, who arrived in less than five minutes. 

(To be clear: I wouldn't mind if he sent me a message asking me to cancel, especially if it's an emergency; believe me, I understand. I'm not some heartless bastard. But I know when someone's trying to screw me up.)

I've heard some tourists here in Mexico complaining about Uber drivers and taxi drivers, that they can be scumbags (the colloquial term is "pendejo.") And sure, yeah, they have a point.

But obviously, they haven't met NAIA taxi drivers. (There are scumbags, and there are SCUMBAGS.)

And then, there are petty passengers who won't let scumbags be scumbags.

Professional Is, as Professional Does

 

When I decided to transition from writing to teaching, I had to earn a couple of certifications. Before that, I volunteered to teach online English students in the Ukraine and Gaza, for experience. Even now, while carrying a full teaching load, I'm still studying for two more certifications, which I'll hopefully get in the next couple of months. After that, I'll be looking into a master's degree in education (to make me feel better after that master's program I abandoned in the Philippines? Probably. Who knows?)

My point is, we SHOULD take our jobs seriously (especially something as critical as, well, I don't know--Senator??). God knows I have -- after 20+ years as a professional. And that's the operative word here, isn't it? PROFESSIONAL.

Please, please, please, let's vote for qualified and competent candidates in the upcoming midterm elections. We've tolerated these clowns for the longest time.

Señor Manuel

This was me with Señor Manuel many years ago, when I first visited Mexico. Coming from a tropical country where the summer heat can literally kill you, I wasn't used to the relative cold of Mexico City in winter, and you can see the difference here in the way we were dressed -- it's hilarious. 

He took me out one evening, along with my wife, Diana -- his youngest daughter -- to the best taqueria in town.I didn't speak a lick of Spanish at that time, and it was a pleasant surprise when Señor Manuel spoke to me in fluent English after graciously playing the piano for me after dinner one night in their home. He talked to me about his career as a music teacher that spanned many decades, and it never failed to amaze me to hear stories from his own former students -- many of whom would still call him on his birthday or on Christmas day after all these years -- about how inspiring a teacher he was to them. Some of these students we would chance upon on the street while we were walking around the neighborhood -- to a nearby café or to church -- and they'd speak to him animatedly, with genuine joy, while fondly calling him "Maestro." It was awe-inspiring.

Señor Manuel has been the closest to a second father to me here in Mexico. It was a pleasure to finally speak with him in his native language the past several years as my Spanish improved. I particularly remember that time when he could still walk on his own, and we were in the well-manicured -- thanks to my mother-in-law, Señora Mary -- garden of his home on a pleasant spring day. He talked of his children and how he was proud of the people they've become. He made sure his son and daughters finished their studies because he didn't have any material wealth to leave them.

What he'll leave them is a legacy of a decent, hardworking man who made sure his family wanted for nothing. A father, husband, and brother who was always there when it counted. A mentor and friend who was quick with sage advice when it was sought out, and it was sought out frequently.

It hasn't been an easy past few years for my father-in-law, someone who still enjoyed walking and playing music in his retirement years, someone who loved driving cars as much as he admired them, someone who actually bought his own small plane many years ago and learned how to fly it -- eventually inspiring his only son to want to become a pilot.

But while his body deteriorated, his spirit never wavered. He couldn't play the piano anymore, or walk -- much less drive -- but he could still tell his stories. And boy, could the man tell stories. He has a published book of those stories -- those memories of many years ago -- and it will be an honor to finally read it -- in Spanish.

His stories -- from him, and about him -- are all we have now. But that's enough. For someone who lived his life the way my father-in-law lived his, that's more than enough.

Descanse en paz, Señor Manuel. Gracias por recibirme con los brazos abiertos y permitirme formar parte de su hermosa familia.