How To Make Banana Vinegar

I do not buy vinegar from the market anymore.  I do not buy because I make my own.

I have always asked myself why we just throw away a lot of coconut water and bananas when it could very well be processed into vinegar.  I have known this as a child: In the 70s my maternal grandmother had plastic jars of coconut water lining up her windows.  These were vinegar made from coconut water in several stages.  The more aged the more sour.

Then we had a farmhelp who had a plastic pail full of overripe bananas that would become vinegar in 2-3 months time.  Then there's Louie who provided pocket money to college kids in exchange for dried flowers - he had a big plastic drum with overripe evergreen bananas for vinegar. 

I'd say that maybe in the Philippines we have not yet become so poor that we do not have to make because we can buy.  Even if we complain to high heavens that life is hard, we still buy. Haha.

Anyway, I told myself: Even if I have money, I will not buy.  Let's see.

Banana Peels or Overripe Bananas (Any banana basta hinog na kaayo)

You see I make green juice every day.  Oh well, give or take a handful of days every month that I miss it - I'd like to peg it at every day.  Part of the green juice is ripe bananas.  I store the banana peels in the freezer until it accumulates to a kilo or so. Chop it up (manually or with a food processor it's up to you).  Then I put it in a cooking pot, add one liter of water and 1 cup brown sugar.  Boil for ten minutes. When lukewarm, squeeze out all the liquid.  Manually or using a fruit press again it's up to you.  While lukewarm, add 1 tsp of active dry yeast, put in a container and seal lightly to ferment. Don't twist the cap tight or it will burst.  Store in a dark place (I store mine under the sink where it is dark and cool).

Check after one month.  Some jelly-like solidification in the bottom may occur.  Siphon the liquid into smaller glass bottles, taking care not suck up the solidified bits.  Ferment for another month or two until the desired sourness is acquired.

Enjoy!

The Bol-anon Does Not Beg!

I was browsing through old files when I came across a Word document entitled "Idja-idja. Aho-aho."  It is a Bol-anon term which means "What's yours is yours; and what's mine is mine." Boholanos usually swap the letter /y/ with the /dj/ sound.  

It was a text of a Mindanews article I copied-saved way way back. I saved it for a handful of reasons: it struck a chord in me; I was afraid (that early) that I will not be able to find it later on the net; a low-tech retrieval system should come in handy.  Making backups sort of became second nature to me after experiencing an office fire that erased my efforts and that of my colleagues in a matter of minutes.

It was a good idea that I saved it, because I could no longer find it on the Mindanews website.

The article struck a chord because as a child, we were taught not to ask. (Dili mangayo).  'Taught' is even an understatement because I learned mine the hard way:  

I must have been six that time, and there was this pretty college student who frequented our house as we lived next to one of the colleges in a university town.  I even remember her full name, but let us just call her Priscilla (or was it Placida?).  Anyway.  

Priscilla had a red circular plastic wallet that was en vogue and I was fascinated by it.  It was closed and opened with a zipper that had a key chain at the end.  Flowers were printed on one side with an animal figure which seemed like Hello Kitty long before Hello Kitty was born.  I don't have a picture so I hope those who are my age can recall what it looked like.  (I found similar pictures on the net though).

She asked me if I wanted one and I gleefully answered "Yes!" She said she will bring one when she comes back.  

I totally had it off my mind until one day Priscilla came back.  I was in the yard playing with neighborhood pals and she called me.  She dangled a pink plastic wallet and there I was, my face and feet smeared with sweat and dust, smiling ear to ear at the sight of the treasure.

Nanay arrived from work (it was noontime); and asked what I was holding.  

"Imo nang gipangayo? (Did you ask for that?)" she asked sternly.

"O Nay," was all I could muster.

"Iuli (Return it)."

"Kaluoy pud sa bata oi. Ako man nang gihatag, Maam," Priscilla was pleading.

But Nanay would not hear anything of it.

Gingging, our maid (that was how househelp were called that time) was looking at me with eyes saying, "Do it now or you will be spanked."

No questions asked, I gave back the wallet to Priscilla who I know was as heartbroken as I was confused.

Lola who was nearby heard the conversation and joined our little crowd.        

"Iuli." She also told me.

Imagine three women who loomed large and powerful to a little girl who still had to sift the value from such an exchange.

A sermon followed, details of which I could no longer recall.  All is left was a red flag for me through the years saying: "Ayaw pangayo."  Literally "Don't Ask"; and figuratively "Work for what you want."

That was the atmosphere that we were brought up.  We did not know the word "pasalubong" or it's Cebuano equivalent.  All I knew was we were always told, "paghuwat" (wait).  Rushing to meet our elders was for us to kiss their hands and we were back immediately to what we were doing, say, playing.  Only when we were called that we know there was something for us - Serg's was truly special.  And it was not often.

When someone arrives from travel it was considered bad manners to mill around and ask for gifts. And when someone had bad manners, it was expected that s/he got a whack instead of a treat.  

Accepting food from strangers was a big no-no, too!  It was either naa'y lumay (prepared with a potion or a charm); or anything that you eat coming from other people would make you beholden to them.  Beholden meaning you will follow everything they tell you to do.

Now back to Idja-idja Aho-aho. The Bol-anon language is said to use the /dj/ sound for syllables using y; and /h/ for syllables using k.  For example: Iya (his or hers) becomes idja; and ako (mine) becomes aho.  Generally, idja-idja, aho-aho means: What is his is his; and what is mine is mine.  Further, it means that every one must fend for himself; must be responsible for himself; self-reliant and not dependent on others.

[As a side note, a friend illustrates the /dj/ sound through a curse: "Pisti kang dyawaa ka madjatakan unta ka'g kabadjong puti'g tidjan".  Roughly translated to "May a horse with a white belly step on you."]  

I recall that in Lola's memoirs, she wrote that her mother kept pesetas (coins) inside buyots (in tagalog bayong, or baskets made of buri palm leaves).  Francisca Biasong was from Bohol; but it is not clear to me whether that makes her a Bol-anon or a Sugbuanon who migrated to Bohol and lived there.  That's okay.  Lola's father Juan Sapitula was from La Union; and she was born in Balamban, Cebu.

Finally, here's the article that I found (Dated Jul 28, 2009)

* * * * *

MINDAVIEWS
CHILD OF THE SUN: Idja-idja, aho-aho!
by Ting Tiongco/MindaNews

(Speech of acceptance as one of the Ten Outstanding Boholano Award (Tobaw)  delivered at the Tapok Bol-anon Tibuok Kalibutan awarding ceremonies on 25 July).

TAGBILARAN, Bohol (MindaNews/26 July) -- I accept this award both with great pride and humility. I dedicate this award to my late parents who came from Bohol; my father from Bilar, and my mother, a Manigque from Tagbilaran. My mother, who died a few months ago, lived 63 out of her 86 years in Mindanao. But she died a true Boholana, speaking Binol-anon to the end.

I was not born in Bohol. Neither did I grow up here.  My parents made it clear to their children who were growing up in Mindanao that we are Bol-anons. Ang Bolanon, murag Amerkano. Maskin asa ka ma tawo, basta Amerkano ang imong tatay o nanay,  Amerkano ka lang guihapon. Ang Bol-anon, mao sad. Maskin asa ka matawo, basta Bol-anon ang imong kaguikan, Bol-anon ka lang guihapon. Mailhan man gud ang Bol-anon sa uban, kay tag-as man ug ilong.
 

I was often puzzled,  growing up as Bol-anon in Davao where a welter of cultures flourish; the moment my companions knew I was Bol-anon, I was immediately set apart as different from the rest. I was puzzled by the saying ‘ idja-idja, aho-aho!’ often said in jest by classmates. And this was usually followed by the declaration that Bohol was ‘outside da Pilipins’. Predictably there ensued a typical schoolboy fistfight. Sinumbagay!

I often asked my mother what all this was about but she only told me to be proud of such things. There was a history and a culture behind this that she did not bother to explain because perhaps she knew that sometime in my life I would realize what it meant.

And indeed, I did. It happened the first time I came to Bohol to set up a health cooperative. I was warned that the Bol-anon attitude of ‘idja-idja aho-aho’ was against the basic principles of cooperativism. But setting up a hospital and health services cooperative in the land of my parents, ang akong yutang guinikanan, was a promise I made my father before he died.

So 15 years ago I landed in Tagbilaran, walked to a restaurant, and unthinkingly ordered more lunch than I could consume. I had the rest packed in a brown paper bag to give to a hungry street child.

Outside, I met a raggedy malnourished little boy and wordlessly handed him the brown paper bag. He looked suspiciously at me and asked what was in it. Learning it was food, he immediately ran away, shrieking ‘Di ko!’ (No!)

I was surprised, a bit disheartened. So I walked to the cathedral where I expected to find beggars. There I found an old woman sitting on the ground by the main door, in the heat of noon, clutching a
rosary. This time I was more circumspect. I explained to her that I had ordered too much for lunch and I was loathe to see so much food wasted and I was wondering if she would accept the rest, assuring her that it was clean. She gladly took the brown paper bag, thanking me profusely. Then, as I was leaving, happy that no food was wasted, she called after me.

‘ Doy,’ ingon siya, ‘ pila man ni?’ (‘Doy,’ she asked, ‘how much is this?’)

I was floored. Only then did I realize what ‘idja-idja, aho-aho’ means.

It means the Bol-anon does not beg!

It means that I belong to a noble culture that believes Man must provide for himself and the community he belongs to. It means that we are free of the humiliating cultural muck of Mendicancy that the rest of our country is drowning in.

It means that we believe in ourselves. In our own capacity to provide for our own needs through our own resources.

Happily, this is what cooperativism is all about. Self-sufficiency and pride in one’s own.

Then this could be very well our battle cry: ‘idja-idja, aho-aho!’.

With this, from ‘outside da Pilipins’ we may be able to rebuild the Philippines, flattened by financial crises, sucked dry by unscrupulous politicians, debased in its own eyes by cultural pollution and
disoriented by a demented media that foists the ‘Wowowee’ mentality on Filipinos  in massive daily noontime doses.

Idja-idja, aho-aho!

Mabuhi ang Bol-anon!

Mabuhi an[g] Filipinas!  

[Dr. Jose “Ting” M. Tiongco, chief executive officer of the Medical Mission Group Hospitals and Health Services Cooperative-Philippines Federation, writes a column, Child of the Sun, for MindaNews. He is author of two books, “Child of the Sun Returning” (1996) and “Surgeons Do Not Cry” (2008). The second book is available at UP bookstore, National bookstore and MindaNews]  

* * * * *

Aveen Acuña-Gulo posts herself on Facebook as a Monumental Operations Manager (MOM).  She is a Bukidnon-born Cebuano mother of three (3) Maguindanao-Ilonggo-Cotabateño children; who will always be a child at heart even if she is a hundred years old.

She wrote a column “The Voice” for the Mindanao Cross from 1991-2006. 

She likes to challenge stereotypes.  “Don’t worry about my opinions.  It won’t make a dent to the conventional,” she says.

Day 4: Talisay-Bacolod-Iloilo-Guimaras

November 17, 2017

It's the last day of the FPE 25th Anniversary Celebration.  I made sure I woke up early so that I can hear mass in the town center.

I requested the guard to take my picture with the welcome tarpaulin.

I'm wearing the Nine West loafers I found at a bazaar in the Ayala Mall nearby for a tiny fraction of the brand new price. It was the genuine article and it was comfortable so I got it. I love the idea that I can have it blessed by going to church too.

I took a Ceres bus and told the guard to drop me near the church.  He said the church was just a walking distance from the highway.

It was drizzling and it was nice to breathe the crisp morning air.

I passed by a walled mansion.  It is said to be owned once by a sugar baron.  People were setting up stalls for what seemed to be a weekend market.  But it was still Friday so this must be an everyday thing.

The San Nicolas de Tolentino church was an impressive structure.

And has an impressive interior, too.

I took a seat near the front -- somewhere in the 4th or 5th row.

Many things are sold outside the gate, like these fresh bulubitoon and other charms.

I traced back my steps and more stalls were being set up.

I found a stall near the police station and had breakfast of coffee, laswa and pritong galunggong.  I almost did not mention rice because it is a given.

Interestingly, a sound system near the ukay ukay stalls was playing "Marawi". And this is Silay City, Negros Occidental, hundreds of miles from a war-torn city tottering back to its feet.

Having my full, I walked again.  I had to remind myself that I cannot buy anything bulky because I will be travelling by plane later.

Ilonggo Bagoong. Hmm. Sarap sana. Indi lang anay, day a.

Then there's these plants that I saw for the first time.  It looks like it comes from the ginger family and the flowers are like large carnations.  I resisted at first, but asked a lady vendor up ahead and she told me what it was. She said they call it Twilight.

Each bunch already has a sucker for every color (red, yellow, fuschia, pink, white).  Just three bunches for a hundred. Irresistible. I can trim off a couple of inches from the top, wrap it in newspaper and tuck it in my luggage. Hmm. Ok. I'm happy now.

I took a jeepney back to Nature's Village.  Finalized my things and requested the front desk for a bellboy and a taxi.  That would be three hundred pesos to the Bacolod City Wharf.

Other convention participants were in the lobby.  The front desk clerk asked if it was ok for me to car pool with two other people.  Perfect.  That means we three can split the fare.  An unmarked Toyota Revo pulled up and off we went -- Dann Diez of Cebu and Darlene Blando Surriga from Roxas City.

Had to receive two phone calls thus it was impossible for me to really concentrate on the passing scenery.  All I could remember was there was always something constructed every dozen meters -- a road, a building, whatever.  

We got our tickets and boarded the boat.

It was no longer drizzling; a bit cloudy but the weather was just right with some sea spray.  I see boats in all shapes and sizes.  A handful of sea gulls too. 

We approached Lapuz Port (there are several ports in Iloilo). Again, the port is clean and it does not smell.

Darlene introduced us to Lucky, the son of Iloilo City's Vice Mayor.  He was easy to spot because of his movie star complexion.  Seems like a well-grounded young man -- courteous; and that it was endearing to think that he was in the economy section along many of us ordinary folk.  

I took a taxi to CitiMall where the Parola Port is located. Had lunch at Chow King and spent 30 minutes in one of the self-operated massage chairs.

I whiled the time away while waiting for Ely to take me to Guimaras.  Lots of pasalubongs. Local brands. 

I buy a ticket and handed the cashier one hundred fourteen pesos.  She handed me back the one hundred peso bill. Fare to Guimaras is only fourteen pesos. One Four.

The pre-departure area is squeaky clean.  There were only three of us but they did not stay long.  A boat leaves every 15 minutes, that's why.  That means my ticket was not for this particular boat so I had it refunded.  When Ely arrived he got me a ticket and sure enough we went straight to the boat for Guimaras.  It was hard to see what was outside because the seats are below the boat's hull.  In less than ten minutes we were in the Port of Guimaras.  Yes. It's clean.  No garbage floating on the water. No ugly smells.

We take a tricycle to The PitStop Restaurant in the Municipality of Jordan.  PitStop is the home of the Mango Pizza.  Guimaras is famous for its mangoes so what else would be a fitting pizza flavor but mango.

Simple but delicious. Thin crust. 

The PitStop Juice is refreshing: Lemons and Cucumber. We had it refilled with water and it seems the taste did not change.

We dropped our luggage at the house of Ely's brother.  They have a dozen or so turkeys and ducks feeding on azolla.  He borrowed his brother's motorcycle and we went to see the wind farm in the next municipality.  

Since it was already late in the afternoon we had to go back to see the proposed People's Farm, a site where people will soon be trained on basic food security.  Many of Guimaras' sons are seafarers; and while there's money circulating in the island, most of its everyday fruits and vegetables have to be bought from mainland Panay or other provinces.

While Ely spent most of his life in South Cotabato, his mother's dream is for him to take care of their land in Guimaras.  

Supper was native chicken tinola with green papaya and malunggay.  After dinner beverage was turmeric tea.  With intermittent internet signal, sleep was quick and deep in a one-room kubo in the backyard.

*****

RP Must End Its Participation in the "Alms Race" - Reyes

RP Must End Its Participation in the "Alms Race" (Part 6 of "Filipino Psyche" Series)

(Note: I copy pasted this article and saved it in my blog because there have been online articles that I have read before but when I click the link, it is no longer there.  I cannot forget this article because of the term that the author used: Alms Race. 

I have shared this in a Facebook post in 2016;
https://www.facebook.com/aveen.acunagulo/posts/10154114220282991?pnref=story

And I shared it again today, September 29, 2017.
https://www.facebook.com/aveen.acunagulo/posts/10155227805187991

Almost a decade after this was written, a duly elected President by the name of Rodrigo Roa Duterte has shown to the world, aside from the millions who believed in and voted for him, that the Filipino people are not beggars. -aag)

The full series starts with this link:

http://www.mabuhayradio.com/reinventing-the-philippines/reinventing-the-filipino-psyche-part-one

- - - - - -

Part Six of the "Reinventing the Filipino Psyche"

By Bobby M. Reyes
Thursday, 09 August 2007 05:13
  The Philippine government, with the help of the Overseas Filipinos, must end its practice of begging for alms AKA economic and/or military aid from the industrialized world, especially from the United States. The Overseas Filipinos earn enough that the Philippines can easily give up its perennial quest for charity from foreign donors. The Filipino leaders must leave out the begging bowls from their luggage when they make official trips or even state visits to the United States, Canada, United Kingdom, Germany, France, Italy, Japan and Russia – the so-called G-8 countries – and/or the other industrialized nations in Europe and Australia. Ending the Philippine participation in the "Alms Race" will make the Filipinos look good, feel good and proud of their socioeconomic independence.

I wrote in Part One of the "Reinventing the Filipino Psyche:" QUOTE. The Philippines does not have economic influence because its population that now exceeds 85 million souls does not have much buying power. For many Filipino families earn an average of a measly U.S. dollar per day. There is really no change in the income of the Filipino family. Then Philippine National Security Adviser Jose Almonte reported at a Socialist Congress in Chile in 1994 the same income of one-dollar a day.

Economic power translates to political clout. And as the adage says, mendicants cannot be choosy. This is the reality that sadly very few Filipino national leaders and many Filipino-American community associations cannot understand or refuse to understand. UNQUOTE.

But the Philippines can afford now to cast away the international image of a mendicant country. Filipino workers and immigrants earn annually in excess of $42-billion—as spelled with a B—in the United States alone. Filipino Americans and the Overseas-Filipino workers (OFWs) in the United States remit a minimum of seven-billion dollars per year back to the homeland. And how much does the United States give per year in economic AND military aid? The American aid does not exceed two-hundred-million dollars per annum.

This writer has posted comments in some e-forums about the "Philippine Foreign Aid to the United States." Yes, it is the other way around: The Philippines is actually providing indirectly foreign aid to the most-powerful and richest country on earth. To read the article about this topic, please go to http://www.mabuhayradio.com/content/view/71/51/

In fact, the Philippines can be one of the few countries that can help in ending the world’s "alms race." There are nearly nine-million Filipino souls toiling from the sands of Saudi Arabia to the sands of Nevada. There are Filipino merchant marines manning cargo vessels and cruise ships in all the world’s seven seas. The Philippines is now the world’s biggest provider of medical professionals. Perhaps the world, especially the G-8 countries, can take advantage of the skills of the Filipino in seamanship and medicine to bankroll the operation of a fleet of hospital ships that can minister to the needs of some of the poorest countries in the world, especially in the African continent.

(More on this topic later this week in the Health and Medicine Section of this online publication.)

In short, the OFWs know the value of their services, the importance of their work and the dignity that their professional careers bring to their existence and consciousness. Perhaps the OFWs must indeed go home and participate in the electoral process, so as to "reinvent" finally the Filipino psyche, so that the Filipino mind can be productive to the maximum level. Perhaps the 2010 national elections in the Philippines will enable the people to change the prophetic words of Philippine Commonwealth President Manuel L. Quezon. It was Mr. Quezon who said that he preferred a government run like hell by Filipinos to a government run like heaven by Americans. Perhaps the OFW objective for the 2010 elections is to present to the Filipino people a government run like the Land of Promise, if not paradise, by Filipinos trained in America and other leading countries as an alternative to a government run like a nightmare by traditional politicians.

(To be continued . . .)

To read the article in its entirety, please go to this link: http://www.mabuhayradio.com/content/view/156/90/

The Limits of Tolerance

My Article for OpinYon

30 November 2016

The Limits of Tolerance

How much of bad behavior have we as a Filipino nation tolerated lately?  What’s with tolerance that it deserves its own international day of observance?

In 1996, the United Nations passed a resolution to observe November 16 as the International Day for Tolerance.  Its website[1] says that it launched this campaign to promote tolerance, respect and dignity across the world.  It aims to reduce negative perceptions and attitudes [towards refugees and migrants, and to strengthen the social contract between host countries and communities, and refugees and migrants].

It also set up a prize that may be awarded to institutions, organizations or persons, who have contributed in a particularly meritorious and effective manner to tolerance and non-violence.  Interestingly, the winner for 2016 is the Federal Research and Methodological Center for Tolerance Psychology and Education (Tolerance Center, for short) of Russia.

While the Philippines has a Presidential Proclamation No 914[2] observing the day, this year’s International Day for Tolerance came and passed us by uneventfully.  Observance of this day is probably just confined to school activities if ever.  While the UN definition seems to limit the context to host countries, refugees and migrants, the Philippines has its own unique context on tolerance.

Social media was full of the milestones of the five-month old Duterte Administration, not to mention the incessant destabilizing actions from detractors on mainstream media that dish out propaganda material no different from so-called fake news on social media.  More particularly on November 16, internet traffic was abuzz with the admission of an extramarital relationship by a former justice secretary – a woman justice secretary at that.  If anything, wrongdoings by public officials (not just women) were tolerated by a general public who had lost steam in fighting corruption. 

The UN definition of tolerance includes lofty concepts like respect and dignity.  These are interesting times in the country’s history as these words are being put under the scrutiny of a nation that has awakened from years – nay, centuries – of tolerating oppression.  They elected into power a person who was neither an oligarch nor a member of the elite.  President Rodrigo Roa Duterte (PRRD) is an iconoclast, someone who broke a lot of conventional characteristics of what presidents of the Philippines were in the past.  PRRD turned tables on the US, the UN and the EU questioning their interference on local affairs. Indeed, is interference a manifestation of respect towards the Filipino people?  Coming from institutions of international statures themselves?  How could we as a people, have tolerated the dictation from foreign entities as if we were their puppets?

From the time the Philippines was colonized by the Spaniards and the Americans; and after the braver ones were snuffed out bloodily, Filipinos who survived were reduced to meekness and subservience just to maintain relative peace.  Unquestioned loyalty was even manifested when Filipinos fought alongside the Americans in their wars against other countries.      

When the Americans left and Filipinos ran government, those who belonged to the upper crust of society, became the new masters and treated the rest of the citizens as slaves.  History is replete with stories of how the ordinary Filipino tolerated the abuses or intolerance of the master. 

How did the Filipino tolerate the abuses?  How did they counter it?  The same UN website[3] offers five requirements to fight intolerance: law, education, access to information, individual awareness, local solution.  Somehow many of the actions of the people also fall on these five.  For example: the faulty electoral process that the people tolerated was countered this time with the sheer number of voters, the magnitude of which was already impossible to tweak on computerized counting machines.  Half-truths, incomplete truths and angled truths that were churned out by mainstream media was countered with real time posts on social media long before mainstream media had time to tweak it.  To compensate for the gap on television, newspapers and radio, people informed each other on what was going on.  And instead of looking at more of the same Luzon-bred candidates, they pitched a local guy to fix the national problem. 

Years of protest actions in the streets and in the courts proved futile (or did it just bear fruit?).  Marginalized for ages, people used the silence of the voting booth to show that they already had enough.

The 100-day working honeymoon period for its 16^th President was a welcome development for a people who have reached the limit of their tolerance towards a system that is oppressive.

And the momentum has just started.

* * * * * *

Cotabato City

18 November 2016

Aveen Acuña-Gulo posts herself on Facebook as a Monumental Operations Manager (MOM).  She is a Bukidnon-born Cebuano mother of three (3) Maguindanao-Ilonggo-Cotabateño children; who will always be a child at heart even if she is a hundred years old.

She wrote a column “The Voice” for the Mindanao Cross from 1991-2006. 

She likes to challenge stereotypes.  “Don’t worry about my opinions.  It won’t make a dent to the conventional,” she says.

---

[1] http://www.un.org/en/events/toleranceday/

[2] http://www.gov.ph/1996/10/31/proclamation-no-914-s-1996/

[3] http://www.un.org/en/events/toleranceday/background.shtml

How We Can Help: Disaster Response in 3D

September 4, 2016

I received feedback of some people asking why should we be donating for the bombing victims when President Duterte said all the medical expenses will be shouldered by government.

I understand your concern.

Ganito yan:

3D's of Disaster Response

Donate
Dedicate
Do It Now

I came up with this rule of thumb for dummies. There are trainings and templates on Disaster Response for experts but it seems like we ordinary citizens have yet to master the secret of surviving on our own, by and among ourselves. As it is right now, it seems like "to each his own".

* * * * *

When the news of the Davao blast came out, the first questions that whizzed in our minds were (and yes, in this order):

1) Was that really a bomb?
2) Were people killed?
3) Do I have family or friends there?
4) How can I help?
5) and many more

Answers:

1) Only the authorities can tell us what really exploded. Since we are not the authority, any effort we exert saying what it was is a total waste of time. Let’s leave it to them.

2) Yes. Among them Cotabatenos.

3) At least Facebook now has a feature on how to check if your FB friends are safe. If my memory serves me right, this was used during the earthquake in Haiti, then the Japan Tsunami and the Nepal Earthquake. Whatever concerns others have on whether Facebook is being used by some big power to monitor impacts of terrorism is beyond me. The relief I felt every time I got a notification that friends were ok was immeasurable. This goes without saying that family members are the first people we check before anything else.

4) The focus of this post is on HOW CAN I HELP

That is the first D in the 3Ds. Donate.

a) Money is the first thing that comes to mind. While money can do many things, it is not everything.
b) We can also donate blood.
c) And if money and blood are already out of the question, we can always donate Time. Volunteer. Run errands. Go online. The gift of self is priceless as it is endless.

(Take note that food and water were given by grateful citizens to the disaster responders).

Deskbound, the least I can do was share information through Facebook on anything that shed light on the situation. Looking for answers on who did it was a waste of time and emotion. Then there were calls for blood. I retweeted it. I can see that blood donations were pouring in. But not necessarily because of me. I was just one among hundreds who went online to help.

Then the question came: How can I help? We’re so far away.

I asked around. At that point – barely 12 hours after the blast – the advice on sending donations was to send directly to the family. Ok. Done.

Now back to where we were: Why would we be asking donations when government is shouldering all the expenses?

Well, to be honest – that the government under Duterte would be doing that never, ever crossed my mind at the height of the crisis. Until now.

Remember that generosity is -- I can’t find the best English equivalent: Bukal sa Loob. Roughly, innate. From within. From deep in the heart. And the soul. Natural na sa atin bilang isang tao ang magiging mapagbigay.

And to bring the point closer to home: Remember in the 80s and in the 90s when we had disasters? Natural, man-made – name it. Bakbakan, bakwit, baha, tagtuyot. Pag nanawagan sa radio kung ano ang pangangailangan, dumarating, umaapaw. The heartfelt generosity of Cotabatenos was overwhelming.

But there was a point in our history when this generosity faded. I have an answer but I would just like to ask if you have any idea…

Ok I hope that you took a few seconds to think through that.

The point where we lost that generosity was when foreign aid came. There may be other reasons but yes, this is one.

When before we donated rice wholeheartedly by the glass, now it came in trucks from big organizations. When before we organized ourselves to manage our own garbage, now it is replaced by some foreign-funded agency teaching us how to sweep our own backyards. The only thing probably that remains to be donated without being funded by foreign money is blood.

And before I make a longer list and you adding to it, let me just emphasize that no, I am not criticizing. I am describing. Whether we come out to be better people (collectively) or not with help from outside remains to be seen.

This motivation to give whatever little we can to victims of bomb blasts is an opportunity to be generous. We can only whisper a prayer that those generous individuals be blessed more abundantly.

I like to feel being Cotabateno again. As this new administration is genuinely generous, we also cannot let this opportunity to be generous to each other be taken away from us.

No matter where we are.

#WalangIwanan
#KeepTheFaith
#KeepThePeace

Here's the link to the original Facebook post:

https://www.facebook.com/aveen.acunagulo/posts/10154043053442991

Parens Patriae: Post-SONA Reflections

Twenty-four hours have passed and everything that needs to be analyzed about PRRD’s 2^nd SONA must have already been said and scrutinized. 

It was difficult to pick just one quote from the entire speech.  Many people prepared for a 45-minute speech knowing all this time that it was going to be more than that.  For the next couple of hours people stayed glued to TV, radio, cell phones listening to President Duterte.  No, he was not delivering a speech: he was talking to us, the Filipino People. 

President Duterte played his role fully well – that of Parens Patriae, or Father to the Nation.  He did not forget what he promised last year, what has been done and what needs to be done; what are the challenges while giving instructions to agencies according to their respective mandates.  He was like a head of the family who gives tasks to his children commensurate to their capacity – with the eldest child taking a heavier load and the youngest the lightest load.  Everybody must pitch in, even the recalcitrant ones.

He was candid; that same characteristic that endeared him to the Filipino people, talking in the language that sent the right messages to all audiences, including his critics.  He gave clear warnings, especially to those who are remiss in paying back after enjoying the fat of the land; i.e. miners to use their multimillion profits to repair the areas that they have destroyed. 

He mentioned in passing indigenous peoples in terms of inclusivity of the draft Bangsamoro Basic Law.  It seems though that The President looks at Lumads in terms of how they are perceived to be sympathetic to the NPA – which is not always the case.  Lumads or Indigenous Peoples including the ones in Luzon face issues bigger than the NPA like the destruction of their ancestral lands and access to basic services.  This puts an already exploited people in double jeopardy.  Though with the submission of the draft BBL to the President and the IP Commissioner saying it is the best for the moment, I am confident that the concerns of the IPs specifically in Maguindanao will be responded to appropriately in due time.

People in Cotabato City, Maguindanao, North Cotabato and Sultan Kudarat also waited for something that will address the perennial problem of flooding in the Mindanao River Basin.  There was none.  I have the gut feel – I may be wrong though – that agencies mandated to address the problem did not brief the President enough.  Or maybe the President already lumped that into the environmental degradation issue as a whole.

The President also wrapped up his speech beautifully – by invoking God’s loving protection as the country journeys with him.  I always like to repeat the fact that no other president invoked the name of God in everything he does.  He does not come across as proselytizing, but someone whose spirituality is so deep he does not have to name any religion even if he says some words in Arabic.  After all, the faithful rejoice in praising God in any language. I soak in those parting words.

Here is a leader whom the Filipino people loves and respects and are willing to build the nation with. 

It is only proper that the rest of the world respect that.

* * * * *

Aveen Acuña-Gulo posts herself on Facebook as a Monumental Operations Manager (MOM).  She is a Bukidnon-born Cebuano mother of three (3) Maguindanao-Ilonggo-Cotabateño children; who will always be a child at heart even if she is a hundred years old.

She wrote a column “The Voice” for the Mindanao Cross from 1991-2006. 

She likes to challenge stereotypes.  “Don’t worry about my opinions.  It won’t make a dent to the conventional,” she says.