Chamber of deathly hallows
MANILA, Philippines - The Philippine Senate is homeless. This is a half-truth. More accurately, they’re tenants/lessees. The Upper House currently resides in a drab gray building leased from the GSIS. It looks just like what you’d imagine a GSIS office building to look like. Even driving up to the lobby was disappointing, winding through disorganized rows of parked cars, only to be greeted by... a metal detector and X-ray machine. There are only two elevators, one for the Senators and their staff, and one for everyone else. Everything feels painfully utilitarian but, ironically, is not. It’s a far cry from the grand Daniel Burnham Greco-Roman design of the old Legislative building, which the National Museum now calls home. Even the Lower House has better quarters in Batasang Pambansa, a virtual oasis unperturbed by the Payatas squalor surrounding it.
It’s my first time to visit the Senate. The objective was to interview one of our senators (watch out for that, that’s a different story). To kill time while waiting for our audience, I decided to drop in on the Senate-Blue-Ribbon-Committee-Hearing-in-aid-of-legislation du jour — the one starring ex-AFP Comptroller Carlos Garcia, ex-AFP Chief of Staff Angelo “Angie” Reyes and in his breakthrough role, ex-military budget chief Lt. Col. George Rabusa with his pasabog of traditional “pabaon” and “pasalubong” practices in the AFP.
There was Comptroller Garcia, left foot tapping impatiently under the table, belying his calm while snacking on fresh fruit and coffee. Beside him was Angie Reyes, brimming with righteous indignation, ready with the occasional rude retort. Diagonally across, a hunkered-down Lt. Col. Rabusa sat in his wheelchair, to the immediate left of Senator Jinggoy Estrada, who couldn’t fully hide his gigil towards Reyes (remember EDSA 2?).
I was alternately distracted by Sen. Estrada’s weight loss, smooth pink face, and his look of slight confusion with the proceedings. Committee chair and neophyte Senator T.G. Guingona looked equally overwhelmed, intermittently reaching for the gavel as if to reassure himself that he was in control. Senators Frank Drilon and Antonio Trillanes were seated beside each other. The former looked chipper as ever, constantly whispering Lord-knows-what to the latter, who in turn was completely absorbed in the proceedings. After seven-some years in prison, it was perhaps only fitting for the idealistic Magdalo leader that the issue being discussed was that of corruption in the AFP.
Last but not the least, the man himself, Senate President Juan Ponce Enrile, dapper in a well-cut black suit with punchy purple tie, sharp as ever — the only one who seemed to fully grasp the goings-on. Also noteworthy was the fact that even being the most senior (i.e. old) public official there, he was the only one snacking on deep-fried fish fillet.
On my way out of the building (using the stairs of course, I had to leave and the elevator would have taken all afternoon), I passed the second-floor restroom that reeked of ammonia. I couldn’t help but feel sad that our august Upper House was relegated to this drab building, eclipsed by SM’s Mall Of Asia. Sadder to note that, if Sen. Juan Miguel Zubiri had his way, the Senate’s next address would be Imelda’s ill-fated Film Center. If that happens, where would that leave the Amazing Philippines Theatre show? The thought of kicking out transgender performers and their predominantly Korean audience is just ghastly. Although after witnessing the “performance” of the Senate at work, the only difference might be that it would only be less entertaining.
