Clarissa Ocampo versus Jun Lozada

Here's why I'm not quite stirred by the political hooplah involving star whistleblower Jun Lozada:

I hate any form of grandstanding.

I acknowledge that Jun Lozada is on the side of truth. What I don't appreciate how he keeps on appealing to emotion and popularity. Self-references as a mere "probinsyanong intsik." Engaging in an interview on national television dressed in an undergarment then calling attention to how meekly he is dressed compared to the uniformed people with whom he is engaged in a debate. Declaring statements inflamed with self-importance, like "I didn't know my coming out to tell the truth will save the country's soul." Doing rounds, making appearances, delivering speeches, and quoting Jose Rizal in interviews and opportunely referring to the national hero as his idol.

I am tempted to call them stunts, but I don't want to be unfair to Mr. Lozada. Having said that, it's hard to not suspect him of consciously doing these things with the intention to efface himself. In an instant, Mr. Lozada morphed from a sniveling witness to a master showman wielding humor and self-deprecating comments to capitalize on public sentiment anxious for change. In my eyes, that's what spells the difference between genuine and false humility.

This is where Clarissa Ocampo comes in.

Miss Ocampo came out as a witness because she was privy to something important. She simply had something to say, so she came forth, said it, and left the people to weigh her revelations on their own. And that was it. Clarissa Ocampo wasn't all over the place campaigning for public support like Lozada does nowadays. I seem to remember her indulging requests for appearances but not in a manner that sought recognition as a hero or a savior. Not the way Lozada strikes me. His actions reek of an agenda to hoist himself onto a moral pedestal to earn credibility for his testimonies.

Don't get me wrong. I believe in what Lozada says. I believe that the ZTE deal was anomalous, that Abalos was out to protect his PhP130M commission, that his escort out of the NAIA airport was an attempt to keep him out of the Senate's reach (though I wouldn't really join in calling it "kidnapping"). I believe in the value of Lozada's testimony and how crucial it is in ridding our country of this culture of corruption.

Even so, I believe a careful scrutiny of the messenger is still in order. No, I am not out to shoot Lozada, but neither will I blindly follow the call of Lozada, Joey de Venecia and those from the opposition whose motives are unclear and possibly mixed with selfish ones. Greed, as generally recognized, is the root of corruption. This is why a whiff of greed evokes extraordinary discretion on my part, enough to keep me in the sidelines, far from the hysteria in Binay's front yard.

What I advocate is a fair assessment of the veracity of these witnesses' revelations, and a resort to the appropriate legal action that conforms to the rule of law. Yes, people power has been ensconced in the constitution, but so were other legal remedies such as "impeachment." The political minority and other interest groups lobby for a street protest saying that the administration control of the congress makes it impossible for the a proper resolution of this controversy. So when will an impeachment, as provided in the constitution, be the proper recourse? When it's convenient for them? Perhaps what they really want is for work to be cut out for them.

I continue to believe in the spirit of EDSA Dos and am grateful that it resulted in the ouster of former President Joseph Estrada. And yes, I believe that President Gloria Arroyo is much better president than he was, though she's obviously far from perfect. But like before, I still would've preferred the impeachment proceeding to an extrajudicial ouster of Estrada. I welcome the windfall of our mass protest in 2001 but admit that it was essentially a shortcut. That we allowed it then, I believe, is what drives certain politicians now to clamor for a wrest of power from the present government.

I understand how unfathomable it would seem, especially for hardliners, to hear how I can like EITHER Estrada or Arroyo. But I stress again: this opinion piece is about Jun Lozada and Edsa Dos, and today's call for rallies.

Back in 2001, I don't remember being 'called' by anyone to go to Edsa. I think it's because back then, ordinary people like us took the lead, and organized blocks followed. Not necessarily the case now. While I recognize this time that many untarnished figures who I look to as moral beacons are beckoning ordinary people like us to join the rally, beside them I see the likes of Erap, Joe and Joey de Venecia.

We should've heeded that nagging feeling back in Edsa Dos, when we wondered why traditional and quasi-politicians like Chavit Singson, Bong Revilla and Nora Aunor shared the stage with Chief Justice Davide and those others whom we trusted as sincerely echoing our sentiments, when we wondered why GMA only showed up for the oath-taking. But I own up to that, I helped ushering a GMA into the presidency, I share the blame. I just don't want to contribute to another wrong. I want to determine if this indeed is the right way to go - an extrajudicial route to enact changes once again. Who fills in the void afterwards is a serious concern that needs as much deliberation. We should learn from the Estrada turnover to GMA in 2001. Doesn't it prove that people power is not only an extrication, but an installation of another figure, and that it can be just as bad, if not worse? Sino ulit sisihin natin pag nangyari yon? Discernment is my mantra for now.

It's not simply about lack of an alternative to a present evil, but a refusal to be manipulated by another one.

I was already made into a pawn when I participated in EDSA Dos. I'm not falling for that again. Fool me twice, shame on me. It would take much more than people with shady credentials and blatant agenda to coax me into heeding a call that could ultimately sweep someone else less deserving and more deleterious into power.

Thank you, Mr. Lozada, for telling us what you know. You have definitely earned your place in history. But can you please stop with the antics now?

River Rafting in Cagayan De Oro

I spent the February 15 to 18 post-Valentine weekend river rafting and pigging out in Cagayan de Oro, with a side trip to Bukidnon. In effect, I was chaperone to Council Couples Alexa and Pat, and Concep and Dodie.

We stayed at the Pearlmont Inn at Limketkai Drive in CDO. On our first night, we tried the Chicken Ati-Atihan at the Cucina de Oro, a few steps away from where we stayed.

The following day, Saturday, was solely devoted to rafting on the Cagayan River. It is easily one of the best adventures I've ever done! We're already talking about going to Chico River to try rafting there. We almost didn't mind the sun burn and aching muscles (salamat sa spa ng Pearlmont).

The next day, we hired a cab for PhP2,500 bucks and headed to the neighboring province of Bukidnon. Thanks to Miss Maya, we were able to get to our next destination: the Del Monte Golf Club, where we feasted on the best steaks I've ever tasted. (A thousand bucks for the porterhouse was well worth it). That afternoon, we went to the town's historic church and heard mass in Bisaya. Afterwhich, straight to pasalubong-shopping na. Specifically, pastel and chicharon!

For dinner, we tried Pearlmont's "Stuffed-Roasted Chicken" (as if lunch's 300g of beef was not enough). Dodie's cousin joined us, and later took us videoke-ing at M2 at Limketkai (which at PhP150 per hour room another steal).

Cagayan de Oro is fast becoming one of my favorite places in the country. Even if the traffic's bad. All in all, a great post-Valentine weekend... Even if sunog ang limbs ko at bitak bitak ang face ko ngayon! :)

Bye Bye Brother Felix!

Been thinking of a fitting homage to one of the best memories I have of Zobel. Kinda weird thinking of a person as a memory, but that's how Brother Felix Mason will be to many people now. Since graduating from Zobel in '97, and with no younger siblings left in the campus, I never had a chance to see him again. Thanks to Chad's, my highschool classmate, status message, I found out that Brother Felix recently passed away. Further googling confirmed it was just a few days ago, possibly yesterday, February the 6th. It was skin cancer that got the old man, and it happened at Napa Valley in California where he spent his remaining days in retirement.

The past few years, I've wondered whatever happened to Brother Felix. I've hoped against the grim thought of him being dead, but that wasn't exactly unthinkable. After all, he already looked way beyond his sixties when I was barely in my teens. He was this very tall, balding, bespectacled white American who was usually dressed in his white clerical clothing distinctive of most La Salle brothers. His speech was naturally accented, which tended to make him appear more foreign than he already was, but he would always pepper it with Tagalog terms. It amused us whenever he'd tell us how 'pogi' we were. (Or maybe ako lang yon, haha, the compliment-deprived kid that I was!).

Back when I was still studying in Zobel, he seemed to know all the students' names. I remember blogging how he was the first person to ever call me Razmatazz. That's the thing I remember most about him, and I think it serves as a beautiful metaphor for his relationship to me and the hundreds (thousands?) of kids whose lives he touched. Being known to him in that special way, having this previously unheard of pet name from someone, made me feel like I was unique. That was his thing, you see. To me at least. He had this way of making a person, a kid, feel special. One of a kind.

When it was someone's birthday, he made it a point to summon that student to his office. Remembering now, I realize I actually looked forward to Mang Bravo (the school messenger, another bald man, pero Pinoy) arriving in our class with a small colored piece of paper, and the teacher reading it then announcing that I am wanted in Brother Felix's office. At times it served as a public reminder that it was actually my birthday. For a few seconds, with everyone's eyes on me and some of my classmates whispering birthday greetings (sometimes, the teacher even made the whole class sing a song before letting me go), I'd feel like it was indeed my special day.

In his office, Brother Felix would make me choose from a bunch of small cards with religious images of Jesus, the Holy Spirit, Virgin Mary or the saints. (I just learned they were called stampitas). It was to be his gift to me. After I make my choice, he'd tell me the stories behind my selection. He'd say why the image of the child Jesus preaching in the temple was a perfect choice for me, or what virtue my Saint of choice personified. Sometimes, he even made me stay long enough so I'd go out just in time for recess or lunch.

It was also Brother Felix who taught me how to play Cribbage. That was at a point in my student life when hanging out in his office became a past time for me. At first, it was an excuse to stay in an air conditioned room during the heat of lunch time. Then it became an escape from having to mingle with the other students. I was that shy when I was in grade school, contrary to what some of my friends today think (promise, di ako bibo noon, haha). In his presence, I felt welcomed. I also remember this small nondescript box Brother Felix kept on his desk. When you opened it, you'd find a small card with a note asking, "Curious, aren't you?" He was a jokester and a smart-ass that way.

Brother Felix's warmth, kindness and ebullience is missed. He was loved. And he was one of a kind.