MANILA, Philippines - Around 70 journalists from around the ASEAN region as well as from Japan, Korea and host China gathered in the capital of the northeastern Jilin province at the onset of autumn to discuss common cause if any, and try to lessen the western stranglehold on the slant of media stories.
Theme of the conference now on its 5th year was Peace, Harmony and Cooperation, so it was fair warning not to dwell too much on sticky issues, particularly regarding territorial disputes in the South China Sea, now officially renamed West Philippine Sea by Manila for the sake of history books, correspondence, and posterity. But you could hardly tell that to the formidable delegates from the other two countries comprising the +3, as Korea and especially Japan continually rubbed in the fact of the controlled media in China, and though addressing no one in particular, scored nationalist sentiments that get in the way of objective reporting and pressed the need to get both sides of the story.
Yes, it sounded at times like a refresher course in Journalism 101, funny how the most basic tenets of news gathering and reporting have to be reminded and drummed in to the tired brain cells of veteran journalists from long running newspapers, wire agencies, national television networks.
In such a setting where there is plenty of talking and later in the evening, much raising of glasses in the alcohol buffet of the five-star cafeteria, the role of the translator cannot be belittled. It was unlikely anyone would have understood the other if not for the omnipresent polyglot, who occasionally had to translate statements and speeches in real time as delivered at the lakeside Nanhu Hotel during the conference proper on Sept. 4.
I had written a prepared statement just in case I would be called for recitation in the roundtable discussion in the afternoon, scribbled on stationery provided in the room at Shangri-La where guests were billeted, but which eventually I deferred from reading aloud, preferring to let the other delegates have their say on the whys, wherefore and whatnots, not to mention haves and have-nots of media peace, harmony and cooperation.
The gist of the roundtable, which took up most of the afternoon or a good three hours, was that okay maybe there really was need for a little more room for understanding each other, emphasis on giving vent to the other side of the story and not be carried away by flag-waving emotions. We are, after all, journalists, and the written or spoken word our wonderwall that may in the end actually save us.
The delegate from the Malaysian outfit Utusan seemed unimpressed and said no wonder it is already the 5th media cooperation forum and it’s the first time he’s heard of it. The guy from Singapore’s Chinese newspaper said it was better not to expect too much from the forum in terms of output, because “it’s basically networking.” The lovely lady from Laos said that any natural bias in story treatment can be likened to a mother’s nurturing a child whether natural or adoptive, and that the bloodlines must not get in the way of objectivity or fairness.
The fellow from Myanmar who always seemed to be angry said the first step in cooperation would be to understand each other more, especially where the other side is coming from, in short a matter of empathy.
In between sips of the exquisite peach blossom tea that was religiously refilled by shapely cheongsam-clad waitresses with their tall thermoses, I decided to just listen and not add to the confusion, fearful that the translators might misread my lips or misinterpret my mumbles.
The last say rightfully belonged to Danny Siong Lee of Singapore, of the ASEAN secretariat who’s been with the forum since the start five editions ago, who admitted that talking shop is unavoidable in conferences. But what else can we do after getting tired of raiding the buffet tables, drinking the local beer and wine bottomless? Surely it is better than fighting or not talking, the silent treatment.
At least this way we can compare notes, smile for the camera, enjoy the graciousness of our Chinese hosts and forget for a day or two that there exist the Diaoyu Islands or Scarborough Shoal, the latter of which has at least four other names – Panatag Shoal, Bajo de Masinloc, Huangyan Island, and Minzhu Jiao, and not Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme.
The balance of our stay in Changchun had the delegates doing a tour of various industries and sites of the city slowly opening up, including the beef and mutton processing plant of the Haoyue Group, reminiscent of the silence of the cows and lambs, and the International Agriculture and Food Expo on the outskirts that featured monstrous sized vegetables and fruits, winter melons as big as x-rated breasts good for a year’s supply of hopiang baboy, and cactuses phallic and tickling the prickly heat of the imagination.
The last night in Changchun there was a dumpling festival where everyone partook of the ritual Chinese meal, complete with a solicitous waiter constantly refilling teacups with a long stemmed hot water dispenser, shotgun style, the only thing lacking was a shisha for the forbidden stuff. The volunteer student guides around the table were coaxed to sing, as did the visiting side with a number more palatable than “Sapatos ni Sion,” until one spoiler pointed out that singing during mealtime practically ensured the singer of one day getting married to a much older person.
This didn’t take the flavor out of the dumplings though, neither out of the robust student volunteers who sang in the bus all the way to the airport for the delegates to catch the flight back to Beijing, 20-year-old Luo Junan saying yes, this is how we will send you off on a wing and a prayer, though goodbye doesn’t necessarily mean good riddance.
Before we knew it the plane hovered over Beijing in the night fog, another matrix revealing itself slowly in the drizzle. It was another hour’s ride back to the Radegast Hotel, where we had first checked in at the start of this trip of peace and harmony, but now we were on the first stop of a long road home, looking for the usual signboards of cooperation out of the foreign-looking, incomprehensible characters.