Safe and sound: Rock Ed's Safety Series is making safe sex sound good

I first learned about AIDS through an old Pinoy action flick. I was stunned by one sensationally choreographed rooftop brawl scene where a quite-resourceful thug brandishes a syringe, jamming this into the chest of another thug. The face of the attacked is then stricken with terror after he’s informed of the virus he’d just contracted via needle; and, opting for suicide rather than a life of incurable sickness, he proceeds to leap from the roof to his death.

Having witnessed such a scene at the tender age of seven, the virus became my bogeyman; an evil so horrific, it was unreal. Like most childhood fears that later enter the realm of myth when you’re older, it would occupy similar territory for me — within the realm of possibility, but not in my life’s context. Until two years ago, that is, when the fear introduced itself to me as a reality.

“My name is Wanggo Gallaga and I’m HIV-positive.” These weren’t the exact words my friend Wanggo used when he’d called me from a hospital two years ago, but they still bear the same impact, especially with the crowd gathered here tonight at a corner of Malate’s Nakpil Street. It’s 11 p.m. and because the rain has spared this particular Saturday night, what can be considered Malate’s prime party real estate is awash instead with its most characteristic revelers: heat-seeking homosexuals propelled by the neon glow of bar lights and looking to zero in on some action, the kind that is preferably brought home.

Tonight, however, the orgiastic flow of people, customary of nightlife along Orosa Street, has been offset. Adding to the street’s festivities is a stage at its center, assembled by alt-nonprofit volunteer group Rock Ed Philippines. But behind its bands’ music is a message that can’t be played loud enough today: sexual safety.

What’s palpable, though, through a campaign simply entitled The Safety Series, and through its setup — a slew of tents congealing both sides of the bar-lined street rather than obstructing it — is the restraint Rock Ed exercises in judgment. After a set by dance rockers Pedicab, absent are speeches littered with no’s or should’s. In lieu of confrontation, there is conversation. And by the looks of it, people are listening.

Bodies that brush past one another towards their pleasure-seeking directives are currently stationary and suggestive gazes have become inquiring looks directed at Wanggo, who is staring right back at viewers from a screen. They hear the voice of Rock Ed’s founder and foremost educator Gang Badoy asking him about his sex life like a curious, albeit temperate female companion would. He says that the Internet was a great source for intercourse; that he once used Friendster like it was a catalogue for prospective lovers. He talks about wild nights in Malate, in this very place; this man, who looks no different from any beer-swigging bystander here, casually sharing his experiences. And by the way, folks, he has HIV.

‘It’s a health issue’

In 2007, UNAIDS and the World Health Organization estimated 8,300 HIV cases in the Philippines — this, from an estimate of less than 1,000 cases in 2001. The eightfold increase doesn’t include the countless undisclosed cases, but it attests to the alarming attitude of indifference and ignorance toward the epidemic. Of course, the incidence of such hasn’t escaped the attention of the Department of Health (DoH), which, under Health Secretary Esperanza Cabral, reached out to Rock Ed in order to give HIV/AIDS awareness more aural appeal.

“It happened after the Valentine’s Day fiasco,” Gang says of the church’s fiery response to the DoH’s distribution of roses and condoms at malls on Valentine’s Day. “Secretary Cabral met up with us and asked, ‘Are you in agreement with me? Whether you’re uncomfortable with it or not, there are men who have sex with men and they’re most at risk. I don’t know what your opinion is on homosexuality, I don’t care what your religion is, but do you agree with me that we should address it?’”

As the virus doesn’t discriminate whom it infects, the Safety Series has managed a comprehensive tour. Following a launch concert in June at call-centric Eastwood Grand Central Plaza (the proliferation of orgies correlating to a significant rise in HIV-infected call center workers), there have also been the requisite trips to gay bars, where comedic skits like those performed by entertainer Tuesday Vargas serve as a lubricant in easing leery crowds into condom-considering consciousness. Last week, Rock Ed’s heterosexual male volunteers even entered bathhouses — easy-hookup hubs for gay men — to hand out rubbers. More challenging, however, is giving pause to the general mall-going public; a public that widely perceives the disease to be an evil spread by evil.

The RH-ight choice?

Where morality has considerable sway over mortality, Rock Ed’s simple message of sexual self-defense isn’t easy to circulate. At

Art-awareness: An entry at a recent Safety Series exhibit at the Collective’s Outerspace Gallery.

a recent Safety Series concert held at SM Baguio, for example, the availability of free condoms had to be kept on the down low. “Us program implementers have to be very cautious,” says Emma Magsino, a senior project coordinator of the Philippine NGO Council on Population, Health & Welfare (PNGOC), which works with the Global Fund HIV-AIDS program in supplying the Safety Series the condoms it disperses. “We should always have education first before we give condoms out. Unfortunately, at a venue like SM, it’s the general population — halo yung tao, may mga bata diyan. Although Gang did say that those interested, who needed it, could get it. Unlike here,” she says, surveying the crowd at Malate, “condom distribution is okay kasi target audience talaga.”

Here, where Wanggo’s voice is audible, putting up a fight against the blaring dance music that encapsulates the area.

His voice is a reminder to the guys entering the bar across the street, where a stranger’s grope isn’t hard to come by; where, standing alone on the curb can be considered invitation to a nearby motel room. And while this reality exists in a district like Malate, the awareness advocates of Rock Ed, backed by the DoH and PNGOC, are intent on pitting the reality of HIV/AIDS alongside it.

“Many of us have a hard time embracing the advocacy,” admits Badoy. “Many of us were raised with certain beliefs about sodomy. For a long time, I was uncomfortable saying ‘men who have sex with men.’ But I’ll paraphrase what Allen Ginsberg said: Things change because people are brave enough to talk about them; nothing changes when we beat issues with polite silence.

“I got to study the numbers and the main thing is that there are people dying because of behavioral choices. I agree that abstention is an option. I do not agree, however, that it is the only option. People will respond to what resonates most with them eh. If I had a choice, I would make a federal law na ‘Bawal mag-sex kung walang condom’ just so the disease is staved off; but there’s an understanding that we can never tell people what to do. However, we can give options — options that are in their pockets, within hand’s reach.”

Catholic or not, homosexual or not, it’s high time everyone opted for awareness. To start talking about things, as Ginsberg encouraged — through quick-info sites like Positivism.ph that tackle everything from testing sites to treatment, and through the roving rock concerts and art exhibits that the Safety Series hopes to inspire both protection and action with.

Certainly, these options are better than learning from a mindless action flick. And they’re certainly better than learning about the reality of things a little too late.

The Safety Series heads to Palawan 1 Bar, Quezon City next for its Safe and Proud bar tour. For inquiries on events and how to get The Safety Series to your institution or establishment, you can e-mail safe@rockedphilippines.org. For information about the AIDS epidemic, call the DOH AIDS hotline at 743-0512.