Connecting the dots

Rodne Galicha links extreme weather conditions to global warming.

(published 28 Sept 2011, MST, p. A5)

This week as we remember the horrors of Ondoy from two years ago, the Philippines is again battered by another storm — typhoon Pedring. I write this column amid howling winds and a power outage (I am hoping I can finish before my computer’s battery is drained). Classes in all levels as well as government work in the National Capital Region and other danger-stricken areas have been suspended.

Just two weeks ago, Filipino environmentalist Rodne Galicha from the Haribon Foundation and Friends of the Earth Philippines talked about extreme weather patterns in his presentation for 24 Hours of Reality, an event of the Climate Reality Project founded and chaired by former United States Vice President Al Gore. The event was broadcast online to a global audience of 2.6 million.

Galicha spoke on behalf of people from the Solomon Islands who, like Filipinos, are especially vulnerable to the effects of a warming globe.

(The recorded video presentation of Hour 9, Galicha’s presentation, and the 23 other hours may be accessed through www.climaterealityproject.org)

24 Hours of Reality sought to communicate the “full truth, scope, scale and impact of the climate crisis” to mobilize global citizens to do their part. It is possible, say the organizers – just as it was possible for the Berlin Wall to come down and for people of all skin colors to live side by side in America. Gore is worried that if we do not do something today, future generations, suffering from the mess we have created, would say: “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you connect the dots?”

Galicha started his presentation by connecting all the extreme weather patterns felt all over the world to the warming of the global temperature. It is nice to imagine a world free of floods, drought, floods, heat waves and other environmental disturbances, he said. But that world is not where we are. This is the reality: Extreme weather conditions occur like never before. Storms are bigger, pour harder and more frequently. Droughts are longer and deeper. You have places where the temperature goes up to more than 50 degrees Celsius. These wreak havoc not in any particular part of the world, but everywhere. Think “new normal” is a fancy, superfluous term? Think again.

The link has been established by scientists all over the world. Galicha launched into an uncomplicated explanation of the hydrological cycle that we were all taught in grade school science, the one where water evaporates and precipitates. “As the temperature increases, the oceans evaporate more moisture into the sky,” he said.

Galicha went on citing the works of scientists: With an additional 1 degree Celsius increase in temperature, the atmosphere’s capacity to hold water rises by seven percent. Right now, there is already 4 percent more water vapor over oceans than there was 30 years ago. This is why the extremes are getting even more… well, extreme.

***

Galicha acknowledged the existence and the arguments of climate skeptics and outright “deniers.” For example, some United States politicians say that solar activity—not the accumulation of excess carbon and methane in the atmosphere—was responsible for global warming. He then presented findings that there was no correlation between solar activity, which has remained relatively flat over the past centuries, and the increase in temperature.

And then, skeptics also say that scientists merely rely on computer models. Galicha then showed 12 separate and distinct sets of data—from ocean air temperature to glacier volume to stratospheric air temperature—that significantly showed that humans caused global warming. Worse, skeptics say that the warming trend has stopped. Galicha then showed four major independent records all saying that the warming has not stopped—and that, in fact, it is getting worse.

In the grand scheme of things, temperatures have risen and have fallen many times before. True, but this is the first time this has happened with human civilization present. What is also scary is that this is the first time it is happening so fast.

Deniers’ favorite tool is ridicule, Galicha pointed out. Their objective is to position global warming as theory, rather than fact. But ridicule is nothing compared to a collective global effort as seen in numerous initiatives. Galicha then identified various projects from all over the world, from the installation of solar panels to the adoption of wind technology.

Then again, more needs to be done. First, speak up: Don’t let deniers win the debates. Don’t allow them to get away with ridicule. Make your voice heard in traditional and social media. Second, deepen your commitment: Make choices that lessen the energy consumed. Consider the environmental impact of items you buy. Third, don’t give up: Lobby with leaders and decision makers to prod them into action. Let them know that you will support them only if they act responsibly towards the environment.

***

A few days after his presentation, Galicha gamely answered my follow-up questions regarding his presentation and the climate issue in general. Some Philippine businessmen seem cool to the idea of mitigation and decreased reliance on coal-fired power plants. The idea is, why mitigate when the Philippines is a low carbon emitter anyway?

He says that the climate crisis is global and the solution is global. “While it may be right not to focus on mitigation but rather on adaptation and resiliency, we should not forget the other side of mitigation which is a call for climate justice. With this, we are not only decreasing our emission contribution but also pressuring countries to decrease theirs.”

Galicha also warns against hypocrisy. How can we ask other countries to lower their emissions when “we continue opening up coal-fired power plants, stripping our mountains for minerals to let stored carbon/methane free and transport the ores to large countries (hence, continue emitting more carbon for processing and transportation), killing vegetation and cutting trees which absorb carbon dioxide, and converting forests and agricultural lands into large monoculture plantations?” Indeed, the “present administration is caught between the issues of economy and ecology.”

Finally, does he think that the Aquino administration is committed to addressing the effects of climate change? “The Climate Change Commission has been doing its job. President Aquino MUST sign National Climate Change Action Plan (NCCAP). However, commitment does not end with another commitment. The present administration should learn from the failures of the Arroyo administration especially when our negotiation experts like Bernaditas Muller were rejected to participate in the Copenhagen negotiations. I appreciate the openness of this government to the participation of the civil society movements such as Aksyon Klima and Philippine Movement for Climate Justice.”

There is no more room for denial. The reality is that the climate problem, its consequences and dilemmas, are here to stay. The question is how well—and how soon – we can stand up to the challenge.

adellechua@gmail.com

Documenting a work in progress: What I write, how and why

I was in grade school when I started writing on a diary. Many of my classmates did, too. We enjoyed the fine paper, the fragrant stationery, the rush of the word “secret” and the habit of recounting the highlights of our days. Years passed, and my friends outgrew their chronicling, put down their pens and moved on to other fads. I kept on.

I started branching out into a “public” and a “private” sphere. In high school my public work consisted of my work in the newspaper, where I was features editor, associate editor, and eventually editor in chief. I wrote straight news stories, light features and student commentary. These gave me much satisfaction. I felt that I was part of something big – out to make a difference. At a young age, I had purpose.

On the other hand, the private sphere took on the form of an adolescent’s efforts to make sense of the world. Aside from growing pains and snatches of infatuation, I had very real struggles: I did not even know who my father was, my mother had been diagnosed with (and would later die of) colon cancer, and I wondered whether my grandmother could afford to send me to college. What lay ahead?

The private writings – where I poured out dreams, frustrations, joys, insecurities, little successes – helped me keep my sanity. For this I did not need an audience. My sentiments all sorted out, I was able to focus on my studies, snag a scholarship, and dream big.

Often, though, we find ourselves in situation we never quite imagined. A teenage pregnancy, subsequent early marriage and my decision to keep studying nonetheless presented newer, more formidable challenges. In university, where I majored in literature and had to write papers for my professors, I got complimented for my writing. I did not believe, though, that I had the luxury of joining an organization, hobnobbing with established and up-and-coming writers, honing my craft further. I was very mindful of my priorities: I had to rush home when the bell rings, take care of my babies and decide what to serve the husband for dinner.

In the meantime, I turned to my writing more than ever, for introspection. I had graduated from scented paper to the unassuming, unostentatious steno notebook which I carried everywhere. For many years, this enabled me to go from one day to the next.

The nine years after graduation were spent in professional wilderness. I must have been employed by more than a dozen entities in that period of time. I fancied myself a young urban professional, strutting on Ayala Avenue, but I did not quite feel I was at my best. I also spent some time in government, but I realized it was not the place for me, as well.

When I started working for the Manila Standard Today in 2006, I felt that I had come home. Not only because my late mother used to be a reporter for this newspaper (and as a child I tagged along to her Palace beat and the rickety newsroom), but because I realized that this was what I was born to do. Years passed, my children grew and many other things changed in my domestic sphere. Yet I knew one thing: I could never be divorced from writing.

Writing for a living, writing to live

Indeed for a living I edit four or five opinion columnists a day, six days a week. More importantly, I write editorials two times a week, and my own column every Wednesday.

I always stop and marvel at my good fortune of being able to do exactly what I love: writing about what goes on around us, in pursuit of a better place.

Beyond the social aspect, however, is the creative process. Persuasive writing is never easy. An editorial, for instance, has to be grounded on relevance, accuracy, logic, common sense – and some degree of literariness to make your work stand out from the others if you even hope to make an impact.

The hardest part is deciding what the editorial will be about. Shall I comment on the most recent appointment to a government office, a casual remark uttered by the President, the logical acrobatics of lawmakers? Once I have settled into the day’s subject, I use the Internet to scout for previous articles – from all angles – about the matter. I open a file and type away phrases and incomplete sentences per paragraph, forming the outline of my piece. I have to know first how I will begin, how I will end, and how I will get from one to the other. When I feel that my piece is well-structured and sound, I proceed to fleshing out the phrases into complete sentences. I make sure I have good transition and end on a hopeful, albeit sometimes critical, note.

The editorial does not contain my by-line. It is taken as the stand of the entire newspaper. My column, however, bears my name and picture. Since it appears only once a week, I take great pains planning my topics – sometimes varying from events I attend, advocacies I espouse, and occasionally, personal experiences and musings I decide to share.

Then again, perhaps the most rewarding writing I do is the kind that I do not have to do. There is no deadline; just urgency.

Times have definitely changed. I do not keep a hard-bound journal anymore. And while I have a word file on my computer to vent about the things that are bothering me, I generally turn to my blog --- www.adellechua.blogspot.com to chronicle even the most mundane of my daily concerns.

Like any parent, I like writing about my kids, their individual quirks and our time together. I like writing about my life as a single mother, who also happens to be a journalist and a graduate school student. Some of my entries are like snapshots: they actually only revel in a particular moment of self-possession. They are celebratory even when it is not quite clear what I am celebrating. It is with wide eyes that I wonder: what awaits me, us?

The process here is a lot less deliberate than what observe in my professional work. An idea simply dawns on me, wherever I am, whatever I am doing. I jot it down and let it stay in my head for just the right amount of time. I walk around feeling pregnant – like I am nursing something inside and to which I have to give birth in its own good time. When you write too soon, the material comes out raw. You wait too long and it begins to feel trite in your head, even before you have written a word. The enthusiasm fizzles.

I sit down and type away, feeling like a woman possessed. I just pound the keyboard as though I were being dictated to by some unknown entity from right within my guts. I feel I am just a medium. Could the words actually be mine?

And then I am done, and I am myself, the editor again. I proceed to smoothing out the edges, changing a bit here and there, making subtle changes that would make the piece more powerful, more effective.

The constant chronicler

Life is never still. Everything, even happiness, or especially happiness, is a moving target. I want a better nation where there are no women resorting to aborting their eighth or ninth child. No boys sniffing rugby on the streets and attacking jeepney or cab passengers. No politicians behaving badly. I want a society – as do many others, I am certain -- where basic services are delivered well, where citizens are productive and purposeful and where everybody whistles on his or her way to work.

At the same time, our personal lives are never in a state of perfection. I love where I am right now, and I love my life with my children even though it is not easy. I love my job. I think I have done well despite my earlier troubles. Still I have grander dreams, loftier aspirations. I have wishes yet unfulfilled.

As I inch closer to these ideals, I write –and chronicle my progress, our progress, even our occasional backslides. The resulting story will be a source of inspiration to others who are treading their own roads.

How will it all end? I don’t know. But I will tell it as it happens, and tell it well.

Masters of their fate

published 21 Sept 2011, page A5, Manila Standard Today


Cayetano talks about adolescent reproductive health.


Defensor-Santiago tests her skills at uttering pick-up lines even as she talks about a serious matter.

photos were taken from the Facebook account of Mr. Ramon San Pascual, executive director of the Philippine Legislators' Committee on Population and Development Foundation, Inc.

The ability to make informed choices spells the difference between merely subsisting and truly living.

Senator Pia Cayetano momentarily waxes nostalgic about stepping on the stage of Malcolm Theater of the University of the Philippines College of Law, where she is an alumna. The last time she was there, she says, must have been her freshman year in law school when she was getting ready to perform for Malcolm Madness.

It's a different madness she riles against these days: the inability of some of her colleagues at the Senate to talk about such things as adolescent reproductive health with a level head, and without resorting to logical acrobatics. If she were on the Senate floor, she adds, her staff would probably be winking at her to tell her to tone down her language – not that she's being foulmouthed – lest she offend some sensibilities.

That morning, though, at a forum by the UP Institute of Human Rights, and surrounded by reproductive health advocates and college students from all over Metro Manila, Cayetano feels she is among mature, like-minded friends.

According to Cayetano, adolescent RH is primarily about enabling young people to have a positive self-image that in turn would help them make better choices. And no, talking about sensitive matters to the youth would not make them promiscuous. RH is as practical and as basic as answering a child’s questions, for instance: “Why is Mommy’s stomach getting big?” A few years later: “What are all these changes taking place in my body, and what do they mean?” To where do we look for answers: the Internet? The racy billboards along Edsa?

Nobody protests the fact that it is the parents’ responsibility to talk to their children. That is the ideal situation: an open communication line between parents and children. Unfortunately, most Filipino families do not operate like this. Some parents are ignorant, for lack of education – they simply do not know what to say. Some are irresponsible – some fathers, for instance, tell their sons that being able to “score” is the ultimate test of manhood. And then, there are some parents who are knowledgeable and responsible – but just too uncomfortable talking to their child about the intricacies of anatomy, much less the dynamics of intimate relationships.

And just as some parents are squeamish, so are some senators averse to anything about reproductive health, much less, God forbid, adolescent reproductive health. “If we talk as openly as we do right now, among you, people,” Cayetano continues, “most likely the bill will not be passed.”

Unwanted pregnancies, sexually-transmitted infections, as well as the resulting emotional, psychological and sociological effects of sexual activity on young people are very real occurrences. Most of these are rooted to lack of knowledge, not necessarily of birth-control methods but of what goes on in their bodies.

Unfortunately, many people do not seem ready to hear these concerns. Cayetano says that if you don’t recognize that they exist, or if you recognize that they do yet do nothing about it, then you are “blind, ignorant, and stupid.”

Ultimately, these kids will, in the future, engage in sex. The goal is for these young people to grow up enjoying healthy, long-term, satisfying physical and emotional relationships with a partner, likely in preparation for their own parenthood, in their own good time.

**

A few minutes later, Senator Miriam Defensor-Santiago walks towards the podium and starts talking about her life in UP, “where nobody picked me up.” This is only the first of many jokes she would crack that morning, engaging the young audience and sending them wildly cheering for the feisty lawmaker. I am sure that the list exists somewhere on the Internet.

One does not mind the abrupt shift into her prepared speech – on how reproductive health is a human right -- because what it contains is equally riveting, even as what it occasions are feelings of frustration behind the senator’s characteristic sarcastic humor. Her colleagues are living in a time warp, Santiago claims, and they refuse to acknowledge that some reasons are simply morally compelling. Hence, the arguments do not end.

The senator delves further into the much-questioned provision of the RH bill which deals with giving Filipinos access to family planning services. It does not force anybody to avail or not avail of these services; it just lays down the options on the table. What is so wrong with providing information? “Why do they want to keep their constituents ignorant?” she demands.

She likens the crusade to the struggles of Copernicus, who centuries ago challenged the prevailing belief advanced by leaders of the Catholic Church that the earth was the center of the solar system. Of course Church officials were not happy with Copernicus’ audacity. They made his life difficult. Interestingly enough, the Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines now also stands in the way in delivering this most basic, most humane service to millions of poor women in the country. This, when they are not even the Church. It is the community of believers who comprise the church.

Why, even Benedict XVI, wrote when he was so much younger that “above the Pope stands one’s conscience.” Santiago wonders whether she can ever have the chance to remind the Pope of his earlier words.

And while Santiago began her talk by making the audience laugh, sustained their attention by her characteristically colorful language (“The sophistic procrastination of politicians are underwhelming!”, “What the ….?!” And “Pass the bill, you son of …..!”), she ends it on a sober note, by reciting the last lines of the poem “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley. We want our women, though poor and under-educated, to take control of their lives, to not just be swept away by circumstances, so that they could better perform their duties to themselves, their families, and society. Why make them believe they are not in control, when they can be -- if only they are empowered through knowledge?

The reproductive health bill has languished in the legislative mill for far too many congresses. Unfortunately, while the antics and tactics of opposing lawmakers and religious leaders are far too obvious, they have also been, enough to block the bill's passage. Let’s hope those who are in a position to change this pattern do so, and soon.

To some lawmakers, it might just be another bill. To the millions of underprivileged women, it spells the difference between merely subsisting and truly living.

adellechua@gmail.com

Love me, love my God

(This is not to be taken as a commentary on the answer of my compatriot Shamcey Supsup to a question during the Miss Universe pageant. Along with the nation, I am proud of her. I can also imagine her state as she stood before millions with only a split second to come up with an answer.

Neither should this be taken as an "if it were me, instead" -- good heavens, no.

I just want to explore a point that I arrived at while pondering the day's events: the pageant and everything else.)

This essay is not about religion. This is about expectations.

Every woman dreams of an all-consuming love, one that defies constraint, common sense and reason. We have been programmed to think, or maybe we have done the programming ourselves, that we -- exquisite, beautiful, wise, extraordinary -- are deserving of that kind of love. Yes, that kind that is so powerful as to compel a man to discard the faith he was born into and embrace the faith of the woman he loves.

The other way around is just unthinkable.

The assumption, of course, is that the parties are of different religious persuasions, and that faith is a significant factor in both their lives. Because if one converts to the partner's faith from a position of faithlessness, or lukewarm-ness, then that would not be a sacrifice but a movement towards more comfortable ground. Hypocrisy, even.

Is it reasonable, then, to expect the man to renounce his faith and love the woman's God to prove his love for her?

Ideally, and consistent with our programmed expectations, yes. Would it not be nice to be with someone who loves you that much? Talk about a capital E for effort! Haba ng hair!

On the other hand, would you seriously want him to? In the first place, you came to appreciate the person for who he is, and his faith is a great part of who he is. If religion is so fundamental, then who would he be -- where would he be -- if you took it away from him and asked him to embrace another faith?

I would pretend for a moment that I was the one who was -- not vying for Miss Universe but -- haunted by a dilemma: Would I give up my religious persuasions for a man?

First, it would be a hypothetical question. Lightning has not quite struck.

Seriously, no. But that is only half my answer. I would also not expect him, much less demand of him, to do the same. It is very tempting to crave that kind of assurance. But that would be too much.

That he must love my God as well, if he happened to be molded otherwise, goes against the very notion of love being a union of two wholes. The most each party should ask is that the other respect his or her belief. Or non-belief. And still try to do good for the sake of doing good. And carve a beautiful, at least tolerable, life together, anyway.

A corruption-intolerant citizenry

The fight against corruption is in vogue these days, with the assumption into power of President Benigno Aquino III. But thinking that this fight was only begun in earnest in June 2010, when Mr. Aquino was sworn in, believing that all anti-corruption efforts should focus on any one person, and thereafter resting on our laurels once that specific person is charged, convicted and put behind bars is dangerous.

Most certainly, fighting corruption is more than just a campaign slogan or a fashionable advocacy. It is not a feel-good activity for the self-righteous. It is rather a consistent, painstaking, inconvenient process that involves not one single, quixotic crusader, but an entire community -- and numerous communities all throughout the nation.

If one suspects one’s local leaders to have committed irregularity, after all, it is not enough to point fingers and cry “foul!” You have to have witnesses willing to come forward at the risk of their lives and livelihood. You also have to have access to documents – communication trails, statements of assets and liabilities, audit reports -- on which to base your accusations. You have to communicate your findings to the rest of the community and agitate your fellow citizens enough to take action.

But how can you fight when you don’t understand what these documents are supposed to contain? How do you respond to threats to your life? How can you have the mobility to convince others of your cause when everybody seems to think corruption is too entrenched, systemic and overwhelming?

“Pera Natin To! (It’s our money!)” cannot be written or uttered without an exclamation point. It is an assertion that the funds that circulate in the government belong to the people by virtue of the taxes we pay. As stakeholders, thus, we cannot just stand back and watch how this money is wasted or used to advance politicians’ personal interests.

“Pera Natin To!” is also the more popular name by which the Philippine Public Transparency Reporting Project is known.

It is a public literacy campaign – without which citizens, and members of the media who reach out to them, cannot ever hope to adequately monitor public officials’ fiscal behavior. How can one, after all, act on financial information if one cannot make sense of it?

The Web site of the program, www.transparencyreporting.net, offers a wealth of tools useful to ordinary citizens who wish to take a more active role in holding their officials accountable for the funds entrusted to them.

Aside from providing instructional materials on how public finances, systems and cycles work, the PPTRP, between November 2009 and August 2011, offered training modules aimed at journalists and ordinary citizens.

According to its handbook, it has generated over 100 unique reports and investigations, 29 blog entries and 46 project news reports. It has given financial literacy training to more than 390 journalists and transparency activists in 22 workshops and nine public roundtables held across the country. It has set up four local pilot citizens watchdog groups in Samar, Bohol, Kidapawan City and Misamis Occidental.

The challenge lies in following through these initiatives when local media and citizen groups as well as those in government are left to their own devices.

**

In the meantime, the project's time is up. The project – a collaboration among four media development organizations: the Institute for War and Peace Reporting, the Center for Community Journalism and Development, the Mindanao News and Information Cooperative Center and the National Union of Journalists of the Philippines, and funded by the USAID and the American Bar Association Rule of Law Initiative – was concluded August 23 with a final roundtable conference.

At the end-of-project conference, project director Alan Davis talked about how struck he was at seeing billboards and posters promoting politicians’ faces and names beside infrastructure projects. Davis, who is married to a Filipina, said he felt he was entitled to be upset alongside the rest of us. He stressed that corruption thrives when nobody is paying attention.

In an article in the project handbook, Davis concedes that structural change does not come easily. Thus, the “active and continual participation of citizens, both at the national and local level” is needed. He advocates a top-down AND bottom-up approach to fighting corruption: initiatives from the government, yes, but also from communities working their way up. The key to all this is public ownership – a sense of involvement of the public who pay the taxes, yes, but must also be literate in the area of public finance.

There were also several government officials and other prominent personalities present that day. Senate Blue Ribbon Committee Chairman Teofisto Guingona III stressed the importance of the passage of the freedom of information bill, which unfortunately does not seem to be a priority of the Executive. Interior and Local Government Secretary Jesse Robredo exhorted everybody to challenge established ways. Engineer Jun Lozada relived his days as a whistleblower, stressing that it is not only whoever comes forward who gets uprooted. The entire family is put at risk, their lives disrupted, their future made uncertain. Audit commissioner Heidi Mendoza, who advocates transparency especially in public bidding, highlighted that financial information must be mined for popularization and public consumption.

Finally, the new chairman of the Commission on Audit, Grace Pulido Tan, said that telling the truth and getting to the bottom of it always entails some form of inconvenience. This is why corruption is so endemic, so incorrigible – because people do not like being inconvenienced. Tan talked about the citizens’ participatory audit project that her agency was working on, similar in principle to the PPTRP’s main message. This is an interesting project that deserves to be written about once details become firmer.

Tan also said that these things are not, per se, to go after a single person. Rather, they are meant to improve the system, and make these things not a turf of the financially literate but an entire nation’s – a knowledge-empowered nation, specifically – business.

In the end, according to Mendoza, we have a stake in all this not because we are auditors, journalists, transparency advocates. It is for the fact that we are all Filipinos that we should care.

adellechua@gmail.com

Meeting the Mrs.

Mrs. Phebe Santiago was our class adviser during our senior year in high school at Our Lady of Grace Academy, which has since been renamed St. Mary's Academy of Kalookan City. She also moderated the student council and taught our Filipino class. Because of this, we students addressed her as "Ginang Santiago." (Ginang is the Filipino word for Mrs).

She ably taught Rizal's second novel, El Filibusterismo, but more than that, she was always around with a piece of advice. In 1992, 19 years ago, I was a starry-eyed 16 year old who was shooting for top honors, running the school newspaper, caring for a cancer-stricken mother and having a first serious relationship. Ginang surely had a lot of things to say to me.

She even met J. and predicted that we would eventually get married, just because we shared similar facial features. She got that part right -- but missed how it would all end.

Fast forward to this afternoon, at Max's Restaurant at Trinoma. Finally our schedules jibed. Ginang was so pleased to see me and Bates, one of my best friends from waaay back, who became close to her as well through their work at the student council.

As always, "Ginoo" was on hand to drop his wife off our meeting place (he picked her up afterwards). Ginang and Ginoo behaved like boyfriend and girlfriend around each other. It was that way then, when they had been married only a few years, and it was that way now. She told us about the time his gallbladder was removed in November last year -- she had never prayed so hard. Indeed, this couple had not been blessed with a child, but they had been blessed with many other things that are just as priceless.

Ginang teaches at a public science high school these days, and is so proud of her students who are smart and determined even in the face of extreme poverty.

Bates and I updated her as well about the more recent things that had taken place in our lives. We then made plans to go visit Ginang at her Bulacan home sometime soon.

Ginang was certainly pleased to see Josh and Sophie, who picked me up from the restaurant. She said she just got older, but I disagree. It's a shame none of us remembered to take a picture of our reunion -- the first, we hope, of many.

A second look at suicide

published 07 Sept 2011, MST

The Philippines has a relatively low suicide rate. According to the World Health Organization, an average of 2.5 males and 1.7 females commit suicide per 100,000 Philippine residents. (This, however, is 1993 data even as the latest compilation was done by the WHO in 2011 [http://www.who.int/mental_health/prevention/suicide_rates/en/])

A survey conducted by Gallup polls among 67 countries in 2005 and 2006 showed a tendency for religious countries to have low suicide rates. The Philippines ranked third in terms of religiosity (79 in the index) and 5th lowest in terms of suicide rates (2.1 per 100,000).

Despite the low rates, a 2011 study by Maria Theresa Renadiel and David Gunnell of the School of Social and Community Medicine, University of Bristol and May Antonette Lebanan-Dalida of the Department of Epidemiology and Biostatistics of UP Manila revealed that “there is likely to be under-reporting because of its non-acceptance by the Catholic Church and the associated stigma to the famly…As in other Catholic countries, a high proportion of suicide deaths are likely to be misclassified as injury of undetermined intent or accidents.”

The study, “Suicide in the Philippines: time trend analysis and literature review” (published on July 6, 2011 in www.biomedcentral.com) used data from the Philippine Health Statistics of the Department of Health between 1974 and 2005. It yielded the following conclusions:

• While suicide rates are low in the Philippines, they appear to have been increasing in recent years, particularly among males;

• Among females, the highest rates are seen in 15-24 year-olds;

• More women than men attempt suicide in the Philippines. But fatality is higher in males, in part due to males’ preference for more violent/lethal methods of suicide;

• Suicide attempts and mortality were generally higher in adolescents and young adults than in the older age groups…. This could be due to increased vulnerability of young people to social stressors.

Because of these findings, the authors underscore the importance of a focused suicide prevention program. “Improving data quality and better reporting of suicide deaths is likewise imperative to inform and valuate prevention strategies.”

Ultimately, it’s not about the numbers —how high or low the prevalence rates are. A life ended abruptly and willfully is a life lost especially to that person’s family, friends and colleagues.

That people take their own lives is always big news here, whether we are talking about a government official mired in scandal, a bank lawyer who is privy to the details of a controversy, an unemployed father of a big family or a jilted suitor.

The reasons may vary. Indeed, a major crisis may trigger the decision. It is accepted, though, that suicide is almost always rooted in depression—a medical condition that could be addressed by medication, by counseling and by having a strong support group.

Unfortunately in the Philippines, depression is either seen as synonymous to being crazy (and nobody would admit to being one) or dismissed as merely a condition where one “has the blues”.

Here lies the fundamental problem: no adequate steps can be taken to deal with depression of it is not acknowledged for what it is in the first place.

Part of why depression is spoken of in hushed tones, aside from the stigma, is that it calls forth dark, negative thoughts. This prompted the Natasha Goulbourn Foundation to launch Mindstrong, a campaign that focuses not on the tragedy of suicide and depression but rather on harnessing one’s mental resilience and cultivating a feeling of flourishing. These are antidotes to the downward spiral that depression brings. Essentially, the campaign helps make individuals more optimistic, mentally agile, self-aware, self-regulating. It enables one to focus on one’s strengths and build better connections with the people around him or her.

Mindstrong, like an earlier campaign, My Happy Hour, is an initiative not to treat depression but to prevent it by taking positive steps in small, regular doses.

***

Katrina Goulbourn Feist, a board member of the foundation, adds that the emergence of technology tools like mobile phones and the Internet makes young people vulnerable to bullying both in person and on cyberspace. “Of course, they don’t tell their parents about it. They keep it to themselves.” There is a need to help them cope with the pressures of adolescence and prevent the bullying incidents from pushing them to take drastic, irreversible action.

The foundation is also working with children of overseas Filipino workers. Physical separation from one or both of their parents no doubt take their toll on the children, despite the trade-off of financial gain.

“We know that depression and suicide are heavy subjects, but we need to bring these to the attention of the people,” says Jeannie Goulbourn, president and founder of the foundation. “This is why we are using a light approach to get more people to listen to us.”True enough, for the World Sucide Prevention Day slated this Thursday, September 9, a fun run and a concert will accompany a series of lectures, the launch of Mindstrong, and other activities.

The foundation is undertaking all these with the Department of Health, the Department of Social Welfare and Development, the local government of Quezon City, UP Diliman, Miriam College and Ateneo de Manila. Details of the September 9 events as well as the foundation’s work may be found at www.natashagoulbournfoundation.org.


adellechua@gmail.com

Day at the DFA

The gate is open for those who have set their appointments online.


I had foolishly thought, though, that I could just stroll over to a booth at 1130 sharp and get everything done by 12. This was taken a few minutes before 11. Those standing in line belong to the first row of the 11am lot. In front of me are all the others given 1130 slots. We were a big group.


Once inside, more lining up. There were rows of back to back seats and the line snaked forward as counters opened up. For about 20 minutes at high noon, though, the line stalled -- and only two of the 23 counters were manned. I guess the employees decided to take lunch at the same time. This would have been unbearable if they had a leisurely meal. But they were back to their posts soon, though their names had to be called out. After that, the line moved briskly again.


I was directed to counter 19. As I handed over my documents, I snapped this photo, much to the surprise of Miss Sagum, my processor. The transaction was brief and methodical. The only questions she asked me were: What newspaper I worked for, and what I was going to use the photo for.


The encoding process. I was assigned to booth 28. I checked the accuracy of the encoded information, took off my earrings, bared my ears and smiled for the camera. This was the second-to-the-last step. After this, I arranged for the delivery of my new passport to my Makati office. I was done by 1:20.

My passport is expiring in February so yesterday I went to the Department of Foreign Affairs to renew it.

I had high expectations of the new system. They had moved the passport-processing unit from the dingy basketball court-side street somewhere in Libertad to a new, smarter looking building along Macapagal Boulevard. I also took advantage of the online appointment setting facility. I logged on early last month and had chosen September 5, 1130 am from among a few other slots. I printed out the bar-coded application form.

I targeted being in the building one hour before my appointment. My form said I was scheduled for 1130-12. I thought that was cast in stone so I even attempted to set a lunch date with a friend for 1230. I would be wrong, of course. Contrary to my notions, I still had to do some waiting. But it was not too bad -- at least not compared to the three previous times (1995, 2001 and 2007) when I had to do the same thing.

Despite the sheer number of applicants (106,000 a month), what stood out was the DFA's EFFORT to put some order to a previously chaotic, and for some, traumatic, experience, and to recognize that times -- and people's needs -- are changing.

This is important not only for the DFA but for all government offices if they are serious about wanting to eliminate fixers and/or those who feel entitled to special privileges. Processes should be improved so that more people become willing to go through them themselves without exception.

The experience was not a holiday, to be sure, but I felt more of a citizen than ever.

Far East first

Above is a photo of the building where I had my first full-time job, 14 long years ago. The cab I was in earlier stopped in front of it.

It goes by a different name now, but at that time it was known as the Far East Bank Center -- brand new when I started working there in May 1997. I was assigned to the public relations unit of the Corporate Affairs Department. We occupied the 24th floor.

I was sent to college by the scholarship foundation of the bank's then-CEO, Mr. Octavio Espiritu (no, I do not have a business degree. It's the university that pairs scholars up with the benefactors) and when I paid him a visit after graduation, he asked me if I had a job already. At that time, I was only working part time writing puppet scripts for Batibot, the kids' show, the counterpart of Sesame Street. When I said no, he asked if I wanted to work at Far East. I jumped at the chance.

My first main responsibility was to cut newspaper -- text or photo -- clippings about the bank. Eventually I was asked to write an occasional press release and two articles. I remember these very clearly: one was about scholars sent to school by the bank's foundation, the other was a feature on General Santos City where the bank had just inaugurated a new branch. No, I did not go to Mindanao. I researched.

Those were pre-MRT days. Most days, I took the bus that plied Edsa, straight from Valenzuela to Makati. The trip took me anywhere between two and three hours. One way.

How I delighted in using an ATM for the first time! I started at the lowest administrative staff level, and my gross salary was no more than P5,000 per month. I enjoyed earning a regular income, though, however small, and I remember buying siopao for my late Uncle Edwin on my first payday. On my second payday, I splurged on a trip to Enchanted Kingdom. Even in those days, a little over two thousand pesos every payday did not take one far.

Having to wear high-heeled shoes and make up every day also felt novel to me. The sight of the Makati skyline at night simply took my breath away.

But I soon became restless and resigned after only two months. Many years later, Far East was bought by BPI, a much bigger bank. I had lost touch with even Ate Luchi, Mr. Espiritu's longtime executive secretary, even as my first immediate boss, Tita Chell Jacob, is a friend on Facebook.

And I had graduated from cutting newspapers and filing the clippings to actually writing material published in a broad sheet at least three times a week.

It is good to be reminded that everybody starts somewhere.