Making up our minds

I had an interesting experience last week guesting on a TV show devoted to politics – which, these days, is like being asked to talk about refuse management. The immediate subject, as you could have guessed, was the advisability and the likelihood of Fernando Poe Jr. running for the presidency (a topic rendered moot the following day, when FPJ smiled to the camera and said he would).

In this country, politics and entertainment are often one and the same thing, but I won’t go into all the issues raised that night, since dozens of op-ed writers and commentators have already brought up the same predictable arguments for and against President Poe. (Should we start getting used to it? You’d have to admit, it does have a certain ring, though not quite like "President Ping.") Let me just add this: No matter what we thought or said, FPJ’s mind was ultimately his and his alone to make up. What’s more important now is for us to make up ours.

I presumed to be speaking for millions when I said on that show that I was perplexed, confused, and somewhat angry and desperate, because the choices available to us left me largely uninspired. If there’s one thing I want right now from a presidential candidate, it’s inspiration – not in the way of rhetorical fluff, but of a clear and powerful vision that will lift me up from this feeling of helplessness, this sense that my life and future are being shaped by larger and darker forces intent only on perpetuating themselves in power. And what I’d demand of FPJ I’d demand of all the other contenders: Inspire me! Give me three sharp, refreshing, and hopeful ideas – not just fuzzy slogans, platitudes, or promises – that I can identify with each of you.

Interestingly enough, the very same day that we went on TV, Sen. Edgardo J. Angara – one of FPJ’s staunchest backers – spoke to a group of businessmen and enumerated what he believed were the requisites of the next president. Such a leader, Angara said, would have to be a person with "vision and ideas." Bravo! Maybe the good senator knows something we don’t.

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We were back in Iloilo a couple of weeks ago to speak to a group of teachers and students on "Contemporary Philippine Literature," about which I’ve probably written enough in this column to fill a book, so I’ll spare you the details for now.

It’s always a pleasure for me to revisit Iloilo, which I’ve come to associate with balmy afternoons with a beer in hand in some riverside hotel. We used to spend our New Year’s eves here, taking the Superferry, because we could be assured of the quietest New Year’s eve anywhere within reach. Farther back, I remember visits and days when I’d wolf down my lunch in anticipation of an afternoon’s shopping or gallivanting, only to find all the shops closed for the obligatory siesta.

Iloilo’s a lot busier and noisier than that these days, when one of the worst blights of modern urban living – traffic jams – have become a regular feature on Gen. Luna, one of the city’s main streets. The Sex Bomb and F4 crazes haven’t spared the Ilonggos, either, with the search for the "Sex Bomb Queen of 2003" prominently displayed on the fence of Molo Church the last time I looked a few months ago, and more than a few homeboys sporting slinky manes.

But the old standards – the La Paz batchoy, the pancit molo, the biscocho and the bañadas, the seafood at Tatoy’s and Breakthrough – are all still there, scrumptious as ever, holding the culinary fort against the inevitable onslaught of fast foods, such as you’ll find in the new SM mall close to the airport. The philistine in me understands why you might want go to McDonald’s in Mandurriao (or Moscow, or Milan) for some relief from the local borscht, but you’d be crazy to forgo Ilonggo cuisine for a burger; I munch on chicken of one sort or other nearly every day and would fly straight to heaven if all the chicken wings in my belly acted up in concert, but the roasted, lemongrass-flavored chicken at Tatoy’s always makes me feel like devouring a farmful of our fine-feathered friends. Amazing: There everyone was, polishing off tubfuls of oysters, while I sat quietly in my corner, gorging on chicken. If your budget for visiting writers is just enough for a leg or two of chicken inasal (or inato, as it’s known on the other side of Negros), invite me, I’m easy to please.

Dining (and, corollarily, snoozing) in Iloilo is always a treat, but you have to keep at least one eye open for the scenery and the architecture. I’ll bet you won’t find a more spectacular Montessori school than you will in Iloilo (on a side street on the way to the airport), and many of the old mansions still look like filigree sculptures standing at the end of long swaths of green felt. A large, prosperous town like Guimbal justifiably advertises itself not only as Iloilo’s "cleanest and greenest", but also as its "most disciplined" and "best in uniform" (its elementary school, that is).

We passed Guimbal on our way to Miag-ao, about an hour’s drive southwest from Iloilo city proper, the roughness of the road more than compensated for by the cascades and sprays of cadena de amor. And why should anyone want to visit Miag-ao? For at least two reasons.

There’s the breathtaking Miag-ao Church, built in the late 1700s and recently restored to its salmon-sandstone glory. This church was gutted twice – during the 1896 Revolution and during the Second World War – and twice it rose from the ashes. In 1993, it was designated a World Heritage site by Unesco. (One of the conditions of the honor, I’m told, is a proscription against messing with the design of the place without Unesco’s approval – a prudent measure, if you ask me, given the propensity of our mayors and parish priests to slap a fresh coat of cement and sickly green paint on centuries-old masonry.)

The second reason is the University of the Philippines Visayas, which has its main campus in Miag-ao – aside from a downtown campus in Iloilo – over 1,200 hectares of sprawling, rolling land. (UP’s Diliman campus, by comparison, covers less than 500 hectares.) Few people know this, but UPV actually comprises three main campuses – in Iloilo, Cebu and Tacloban.

UPV’s unique strength lies in its fisheries and oceanic sciences programs, but it is also a comprehensive university offering a broad range of courses at both graduate and undergraduate levels. (UP’s Miag-ao campus has another and somewhat quaint – or bizarre, depending on how you look at it – claim to fame, as possibly the only Philippine university campus with a cemetery on its premises.) For thousands of bright young people in the Visayas, UPV offers the kind of hope that only a good, well-rounded education can bring.

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Another unexpected pleasure I had on this last visit to Iloilo was meeting up with an old batchmate from the Philippine Science High School – Florencio "Renz" Yap, our PMT corps commander and now a successful businessman.

Renz and other Iloilo residents are now engaged in the battle of their lives against a large funeral parlor, the Gegato-Abecia Funeral Homes in Alta Tierra Village, which was allegedly allowed to operate in their area without the required environmental compliance certificate and other clearances. So far, Yap says, Iloilo City Mayor Jerry Treñas has been dragging his foot in enforcing the law, for one reason or other.

That struck me as being strange and sad if true, because the first and last time I met Mayor Treñas, it was in a context that would have suggested a keen awareness of environmental considerations for decision-making at the local level. This was at last year’s Earth Summit in Johannesburg, South Africa. Perhaps the good mayor can review all those brochures we picked up at the summit.

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Send e-mail to Butch Dalisay at penmanila@yahoo.com.