On reggaenism and a new leaf

Because Bré Ambungan of "YourVoice, YourChoice Tingog Kabataan" over at 93.1 dyWF-Smash FM was out for a teambuilding assignment in Manila, I served as stand-in, and promoted the Reggae Jammin' Thursday event at La Mer, an entertainment joint at the Mango Square that reopened last October 5.

For local reggae bands to be able to get a proper venue for regular gigs here has always been every reggaenista's prayer. It was a good thing I met Cyril, the marketing manager of La Mer who was introduced to me by BSU Clothing proprietor Anthony Chua months ago. Along with his partner Ivy Torralba, they decided to sustain the Reggae Nites on weekends, and other activities like the Karaoke Nite, Open Mic Nite, and the Bisdak Rockers Nite soon. Of course, they would also be keeping some of the show bands they have been featuring in their previous events. The decision to keep a Reggae Nite on a weekend came after having been satisfied with the warmth and the sizzle that the recent event brought to the entertainment bar.

With the past articles I made on Bisaya rock bands, I felt a little guilt that for a time I lost track of my "real crowd" - the reggaenistas. I was at Smash FM with high hopes that its listeners - individuals and clans - or those Bisrock enthusiasts would also look up to being a part of the peepz gaga over reggae myoozik in Cebu.

Certainly, whatever support the Bisrockin' community has been giving the local rock bands, they would also be showing same eagerness for our local reggae bands in bloom with influences from the not-so-distant past to a fusion of contemporary styles. Bands featured last Thursday were No Parking Anytime, Onion Leaves, Tropical Roots, Peace 4:20 and of course, Santing Scalawags, of whose members I have come to be endeared with. Their stories will be splashed on the Entertainment section of this paper soon.

It was great to celebrate, for the very first time, my birthday with my "real folks" who like me have all been astonished by the works of the Great Tallawah - just and merciful amid every man's shortcomings.

"Who am I Jah, Christafari, that you have come to love me despite my iniquities; despite my spitefulness?" this has always been my question for every time I turn a new leaf the last eight years now.

My fancy for reggae myoozik stems from a desire for emancipation from mental, spiritual, political and economic slavery. I hate thought control imposed on me by institutions that almost all have spread the meme virus which destroyed the built-in program of "goodness" in my system - and I must admit, that I'm having a hard time in the debugging of such. Days before my birthday I got enraged at a tattletale at the workplace on this accusation I could have cried upon but dealt with, with so much rage, instead. "Oh Jah, if you could just allow me, just please at a point in my life allow me like a religious extremist to bury a bullet in her head, I just want one good bullet bored into her cerebellum to teach her a lesson in a term she will never ever learn to misunderstand. Then, I'll be fine."

What have those years of listening to the Great Jah brought me? Today I feel that like my craving for the universalization of religions, and the intertwining of philosophies, staying happy and peaceful is but a far cry in some wilderness. I am easily provoked by "corporate terrorists" amid the call to be diplomatic and to consider some form of "regional cooperation" in this workstation I call The FREEMAN suburbia. And for every time I give people a piece of my mind, they would throw their stares at me as if I'm dressed in dementia! "Taym sa gud, Jah, kinsa ba gu'y nanguna?," again I went on to entertain my enraged inner self in this soliloquy. "Good Lord, why can't people afford other people some space to just be happy and peaceful and make lives a bit lighter most especially on their birthdays," I said in my silence scored by gritted teeth and clenched fists.

I turned a year older still with that influence of reggae finding a beat in my head, my worship also found form, substance, sensitivity and sensibility. But why am I still angry over small, cheap, loose talk?

Is this because I have a rule of thumb to never ever buy nasty things others say about people, and that despite of such, worse is still said against me? I carried the lessons I learned in kindergarten that for people to avoid backbiting you, you should learn to say the magic words - thank you, please, you're welcome, sorry. I did all that. I push back other people's chairs after I use them. I return whatever I borrow and thank the owner. I say please for every favor. I ask for an apology for having the wrong idea or for doing the wrong thing and I stand corrected, but how come I don't get these oftentimes from others? If we are here to do good to and for others, then what are others here for?"

Back at La Mer, while I was having a couple of beers, I watched the reggae artists blaring to not only a song, but a life. A way of life for that matter. Their original compositions reveal striking qualities of good oratory on the deployment of both classical, traditional and innovative rhetorical skills to the cause of political independence, economic advancement, and the restoration of racial pride, not to mention the play-up of musical instruments that gives heads reason to rock and fingers to thump and feet to stomp and bodies to sway the night away. My! I'm so proud of the maturity of our young local reggae musicians.

If only this goal of reggaenism to unite people everywhere could become part of the mission and vision of every corporate setting, it would have been easier to evict one gossipmonger from outtah here and save the peace of one worker.

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