summer fiestas and other memories of youth

(as a perfect companion for this one, please read my earlier post on martial law here.)

"it was not merely the natural gift of a superior intellect that made him numero uno wherever he went. nor was lady luck the primary factor. in philippine politics, there are other politicos brighter and on the whole luckier than he. but ferdinand e. marcos has other attributes more effective and rewarding than just brains -- a will of steel, unflinching resolve and a passion for planning, planning, planning. it seems nothing ever happens to ferdinand e. marcos without his knowledge and consent." -- napoleon rama, staff member of the philippine free press, in an article published in january nineteen sixty- six, when the magazine named marcos its man of the year for nineteen sixy-five.

))))))))))))))))))))))))

every major historical event in the philippines always has that jovial fiesta atmosphere -- the bloodless edsa revolution that led to the downfall of the twenty year plus iron rule of the dictator marcos, protest marches and rallies against corruption in the government (the picnic at the park anti-pork barrel rally at the luneta, for instance last year), coup d'etats (witness the number of people hovering over military men with machine guns, some even urging the soldiers to fire their guns), and elections.

especially elections, be it at the national or local level.

&&&&&&&&&&

i've always associated the sultry summer of my youth -- apart from cute sweaty guys naked from the waist up playing basketball, or swimming on the beach -- with the ugly mug shuts of politicians. and their supporters, even families. i specially found it ridiculous every time politicians asked their young children to go up on stage and plead with the audience to vote for their fathers.

(kris aquino, already a trend setter even when she was just a toddler, started this trend when she campaigned for her father, the hero ninoy aquino, who was then running for a senate seat while inside the prison. ninoy was among the political opponents of marcos who was jailed by the dictator.)

it used to puzzle me (even until now. though i long lost my appetite for elections) why the national elections in the country was held during the flowery and merry month of may, which, by the way, always coincided with the fiesta at the barangay where the military camp (where i grew up) was located. i used to lay down sleepless in bed coming up with various reasons why the fiesta in our barangay coincided with elections.

(yes, even when i was young, i was already used to torturing myself with useless thoughts and solving equally useless problems)

maybe the government thought that holding the national elections in the summer would mean that more voters, especially the students, would exercise their right of suffrage. or it could be because elemetary schools that were usually used as voting precincts were normally free during summer, so classes were not disrupted; while teachers who always served as poll watchers were available to do their extra chores. it should be noted that teachers were paid a pittance compared to the amount of work that they had to put into during elections. most of the time, the pay was delayed.

&&&&&&&&&&&

(if i am not mistaken the national elections are still held in may until now. i am not sure.)

&&&&&&&&&&&

so while we (i and my friends and neighbors) were busy decorating the streets, putting up those colourful banderetas, painting fences with white, cleaning up the streets, politicians and their supporters were doing the opposite: ruining the sceneries by pasting and putting up posters, billboards, placards of their candidates, complete with their huge ugly faces.

but not everyone was complaining though. holding the elections during the fiesta season had its advantages:

- raising funds to finance the beautification of the church, the holding of several masses, parade wasn't a problem. even the cash prizes for the basketball tournament and other games were not a problem. politicians and their supporters were just too willing to donate money, cash prizes including uniforms for the basketball players, trophies, as long as their names were prominently displayed on banners and shirts, and they were properly acknowledged during the awarding ceremonies.

as if the money actually came from their pockets.

-since elections normally meant politicians were doling out cash, most people in the barrio had the money to beautify their homes and to prepare for a lavish banquet for their guests. (sadly, it was never enough. the poor barrio folks still ended up borrowing money from loan sharks, or selling their properties like a piece of land, just to celebrate the fiesta.)

-looking for sponsors for beauty contests (mutya ng barangay) was also not a problem. again, politicians were just too willing to support these contests as long as they were invited to hand over the cash prizes, trophies and pin the sash on the beauty queens. some even asked to be part of the parade and rode with the beauty contest winners on the float. a better way to be seen by the voters.

&&&&&&&&&&&

the downside of course was that those politicians who had the money and therefore would likely resort to shenanigans once elected into office to recoup their investments always won.

so the cycle of corruption, patronage politics, under-the-table negotiations for government projects continued. even to this day. sad!

(if we really want honest politicians and government officials, we should simply stop asking for donations, dole outs and other favours (job referrals, free medicines, acting as grandparents for our children or as wedding sponsors) from them. period!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

anyway, i grew up in this kind of environment. inside and outside of the military camp.

people would be excited every time elections came. as the days became longer and the sun rays grew more cruel each day, making everybody sweat day and night and necessitating taking a bath at least three times daily, the degree of anticipation for the money that the simple barrio folks would make only added to the joyful, fiesta atmosphere.

amid the sweltering, oppressive heat, the absence of rain, the thought of the money that would pour out of the politicians' pockets come election time seemed comforting. never mind the rain. never mind the farms. money, even just a few hundred pesos, changes everything.

everybody, the laundry women, the tricycle drivers, fish and vegetable vendors, were excited about it. even the perfumed set that belonged to the exclusive officers' wives club inside the military camp, would be talking about who among the candidates would be giving the most dole outs, who would be getting the most among the local government officials, while playing mahjong.

some would talk about bags and bags of newly minted philippine peso bills that would be used for election spending being hidden in the closets of barangay officials.

i remember seeing and touching those crispy, newly minted bills that belonged to my friends who were old enough to vote, or rather to sell their votes. they looked great, these peso bills, with the colours as alive as the greens in the mountains and the reds of the sunset. they smelled nice too, and their edges were too crisp that they could cut your fingers if you were not careful.

(i was then too young to vote, so i never experienced receiving money from politicians. when i was old enough to vote, i was already in college and was therefore knowledgeable enough to know that vote buying was (is) one the tools that politicians use(d) to make a mockery of our democracy, as well as to enrich themselves and perpetuate their families and relatives in power. so i never voted!)

unfortunately, some of these bills sometimes turned out to be fake.

one time, a friend treated me to a snack of halo-halo and sandwich (an all-time, all-season favourite merienda  in our town of catbalogan, not just during the summer) and the cashier refused to accept his new ten and twenty peso bills because they were fake. good thing i had money at the time, otherwise we would end up washing the dishes and cleaning the restaurant.

*******************

not surprisingly, even some of the military men who voted in the barangay would be given money by politicians and their supporters in exchange for their votes. though i had no idea if the soldiers took the money, and if they did, if they voted for those candidates. at that time, most military men would tell others, civilians included, to accept the money but not to vote for the politician who gave the money or who attempted to trample upon their democratic rights.

(most of the military men i knew, especially the low-ranking ones and the young officers who just graduated from the philippine military academy, were idealistic and they really cared for the country. they would not tolerate anyone who would make fun of an important democratic exercise like elections. too bad that their number had dwindled through the years.)

this was before businessmen jose and raul concepcion founded the national movement for free elections or namfrel, which advocates for free, clean and honest polls; and is against vote buying and selling.

&&&&&&&&&&&&

the rampant vote buying, if i remember it right, came from the camp of the then leading political party, the kilusang bagong lipunan (the movement for new society), founded by president marcos. it was not surprising because as president, marcos held the key to the treasury. he had the machinery too. so congressmen, governors, mayors, barangay captains affiliated with kbl  and their army of supporters would act like santa claus during elections.

then after elections, you would see their supporters building or renovating their houses, buying new appliances, going to cebu city or manila for a vacation.

but unlike today, there was not much indignation against these people at that time. i never remembered anyone talking badly or gossiping about these supporters (and even politicians) for becoming instant millionaires during elections. for most people, it was just the way of life. part of the reality. to criticize or even to gossip about them would be tantamount to jealousy or insecurity, traits that most of the people, faithful catholics who never missed any sunday mass, in the barangay abhorred and deplored. these traits were simply unchristian.

so the practice continued and the politicians as well as their supporters were laughing all the way to the bank at the expense of the poor, religious barrio folks, who, if i may add, would resort to borrowing money from loan sharks after the fiesta left them empty handed. a practice, unfortunately, that further kept them from escaping the cruelty of poverty.

*******************

when i was already in college, i was recruited to run for the kabataang barangay (youth of the barrio, another organisation set up by the marcos administration to gain the support of young voters) election as one of the officers. i refused, of course. i knew then that the youth organization, another brainchild of the dictator and headed by his eldest daughter imee at some point, had become a training ground for future politicians who would not mind employing dirty tricks just to win.

once, i was also approached by a former high school teacher to join a group that's supporting a prominent personality in the province who had aspirations to become a politician. i almost joined the group because i truly admired the person. but i changed my mind after i met him. there was something fake about him: his humility and simplicity that just wasn't right. he was also generous with his praises for me (i have always been uncomfortable about receiving praises, especially undeserved ones) even if we just met. i wasn't naive, so i could tell the lack of sincerity in his voice, words and gestures.

(he claimed he knew my parents and that he had been to our house several times. maybe. i never bothered asking my parents about it.)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

anyway, after the edsa revolution in february nineteen eighty six, when marcos, his family and cronies were finally kicked out of their luxurious offices, i thought everything would change. i had high hopes when president cory aquino -- the simple lady garbed in her signature yellow dress and eyeglasses whom i met at the university after her husband, the hero ninoy aquino, was assassinated -- took office.

i thought this was the chance to clean up the country, get rid of corruption, eradicate vote buying, disallow political dynasty, stamp out patronage politics, including the three gs (guns, goons and gold), and other dirty tricks that were employed and resorted to by the dictator and his allies to perpetuate themselves in power.

sadly, i was wrong.

if anything, corruption even worsened and vote buying has become a way of life.

sad. very sad, indeed.

but trust the filipinos (or some of them, anyway) to forget all about the woes of the country, the massive corruption in the government, the vote buying, the lying, the cheating, the injustices, when they celebrate fiestas. to this day, i am not sure if it's a curse or a gift -- this tendency for temporary amnesia.

(ps: all pictures in this post were taken from different websites. no copyright infringements intended. please notify me and i would gladly remove your photos. thank you.)