Saving Sangyaw

"Behind the tough Waray exterior is a very generous heart. A Waray invites strangers to his home to partake of food on his table during a fiesta.

I regret having to leave yesterday, the eve of the city’s fiesta, a much-celebrated event in the Tacloban calendar.

But if ordinary Taclobanons are magnanimous, their leaders are petty.

Pettiness is nowhere more evident than in Mayor Alfred Romualdez disallowing the holding of the Pintados, a parade where participants, their faces painted, dance in the streets much like Aklan’s Ati-atihan, last Saturday, three days before the fiesta.

Romualdez did not honor a court order lifting his ban on the holding of the yearly parade.

The parade organizers, however, held the parade anyway in complete disobedience to the mayor’s order.

City policemen, ordered to block the parade, would have clashed with fellow policemen assigned in the province and the regional command who escorted the Pintados revelers, but did not.

Why did the mayor try to prevent the holding of the yearly parade?

Because he had his own parade similar to the Pintados—the “Sangyaw.”

Pintados is sponsored by the provincial governor, Jericho Petilla, whose family is an arch political rival of the Romualdezes.

Politics is supposed to make people magnanimous, but in Tacloban City, it has made a petty tyrant.

The great politician, Daniel Z. Romualdez, once a Speaker of the House of Representatives, a grand-uncle of the mayor’s, must be turning in his grave."

- Petty Politics in Tacloban City by Ramon Tulfo

Nothing like a controversy to spice up an event. My friends and I spent much of yesterday, June 29, sunbaked in the streets of Tacloban (with a few minutes of rain shower as we waited outside the Balyuan Amphitheater) for the Sangyaw Festival. This would be the second year running that Mayor Romualdez is reviving this event.

The conflict between the city and provincial government has somewhat split the fiesta celebration: the Petillas with their own events at the Pintados-Kasadyaan park and at the Leyte Sports Development Center, and the Romualdezes at the Balyuan amphitheater and at the Tacloban Convention Center. During the Ginoong Leyte pageant sponsored by the provincial government, the emcees neglected to mention the big event happening the next day- the Sangyaw, which is an initiative of the city government. In turn, the city-sponsored events also snubbed festivities sponsored by the provincial government.

This is so unfortunate, not to mention embarrassing for both government leaders. They all talk about unity and peace all the time, and yet their actions speak otherwise. The celebrations have been tainted by politics, and political giants joined in to push their agenda: Imelda hinting that Bongbong Marcos might run for the senate, Manny Villar and Senate President Enrile also made themselves visible for the 2010 elections.

Excuse me, but isn't the celebration to honor Sto. Nino? Isn't the whole point of the Pintados-Kasadyaan and the Sangyaw to showcase and enrich the Waray and the Filipino culture in general? With all the fuss going on, we must have forgotten what the events were really about.

In spite of everything though, both festivals were very successful. There were two categories for Sangyaw- the School category, and the "Open category". Nine local elementary, high school, and colleges vied for the championship where the winner will receive 200 thousand, plus more prizes in special awards. The Open Category- with contingents coming from neighboring Naval, Biliran and Basey, Samar- to as far as Isabela in Luzon and Surigao in Mindanao. The first prize for the open category gets half a million.

The Balyuan amphitheater was overflowing with people (another unfortunate consequence of the political rivalry- the only decent place that could hold thousands of people comfortably would be the "grandstand" or the Leyte Sports Development Center, which is under the provincial government, so the Sangyaw was a no-no there), yet most stayed on even during the rain just to watch the performances.

The most noteable were the ones from Isabela, Basey, and Surigao. The crowd went wild with Banigan (Basey, Samar) Festival's complex dance routine which was flawlessly executed, with costumes made entirely of banig (native mat from which the town is known for), and stunts which had the crowd shrieking to no end.

Hands down for me, it was Surigao's Bonok bonok Maradjaw Karadjaw Festival that was the winner. Their metallic costumes shimmered (they had the advantage of being among the last to perform at sundown which upped the drama factor in their routine) as they danced in unison to the drum beats. Their spectacular dance ended with a long banner which said, "Godbless Tacloban" to which the crowd clapped and cheered to.

In the middle of the crowded amphitheater overlooking Cancabato Bay sometime during sundown, I really got to realize how much religion is rooted in our culture as Waraynons and Filipinos in general. I said a silent prayer of thanks and smiled to myself- in spite of controversies and whatever trials we Leytenos face- we gather, young and old, rich and poor, to celebrate and pay homage to our patron who watches over us.

Wow Leyte!

Since early June, tensions were brewing between the City Government (headed by the Romualdezes) and the Provincial government (headed by the Petillas). The word on the streets were: the Pintados-Kasadyaan Festival had been canceled. Let me give a brief history- when the Marcoses were still in power, Imelda started a festival for Tacloban named Sangyaw. After they were removed from Malacanang, the Pintados Foundation took over and held the Pintados festival the day before the city fiesta. Since we moved to Tacloban in 1988, I can remember the Pintados festival being one of the highlights of the celebration- I myself took part in the parade during our high school days in Leyte High.

Just recently, Mayor Alfred Romualdez tried to revive the Sangyaw- but understandably Pintados had become much, much bigger in scale and relevance, and Leyte had been known nationwide for the latter. This year, the date for the Pintados parade had been moved several times- rumors even spread that the city government refused to give permit for the parade (all roads within the city are pedestrianized, and only official vehicles and ambulances are allowed), and that if the Petillas insist on holding the festival on the 29th, a court battle would ensue.

It was settled then that the Pintados would take place on the 27th, and the Sangyaw on the 29th, preceding the June 30 Sto.Nino of Tacloban Fiesta. The night before, my friends and I were still asking around if the festival was really pushing through, and decided we go downtown anyway next morning to find out.

By 8am of the 27th, I was stuck in horrible traffic because all roads were off limits from the old Sagkahan junction. Right then and there, I knew the Pintados festival was going to push through. I walked the length of Real St. and as the drumbeats and trumpets sounded- the colorful parade began.

It was not until the parade was done that I was able to find my friends in the crowd, we were off to Leyte Sports Development Center ("grandstand", where the Palarong Pambansa was held this year) for the performance of the contingents.

The Pasaka Festival of Tanauan, Leyte was declared the champion- combining a flawless routine, vivid storytelling through dance, stunts, props, confetti, and believe it or not, a live Sto. Nino being hoisted above the near-hundred dancers using hydraulics during the finale. They won half a million pesos, and will be joining the Buyugan Festival of Abuyog- the defending champions of the Aliwan festival.

In my opinion, no matter how flawless the other dancers are, no one can beat the "cute factor" of the Buyogan kids. Imagine, seven year old kids dressed as bumble bees dancing on a beehive (and the stunts!). They were the last to perform, and from start to finish all you hear are either shrieks (from the stunts), oohhs and aahhs from the dance routines, and of course coos from the cute kids.

We'll see this Monday, if the Sangyaw can outdo the Pintados. Seriously though, if the Mayor and Governor are reading this- peace! Work together instead of competing, after all Taclobanons are Leytenos and these festivals are both in honor of Sto. Nino. Proud to be Leyteno, proud to be waray!

Backward Barrios, Flyover States, and HUC

Fresh from a stay in a remote barangay in Alang-alang, Leyte for the recent six-day Community Immersion, I could not avoid making a comparison between the simple life of Brgy. Dapdap residents and the fast-paced life in a constantly growing city like Tacloban. While one might loathe the feeling of obscurity (at least from a city dweller's point of view) living in towns far from urban jungles, one could also wonder if the comforts of a mall or other big establishments necessarily spell a better life.

This reminded me of a certain Urban Planning class I once attended, when the topic veered on urban and rural settlements, and I first encountered the term "flyover states". Apparently, when one travels in the US to and from mega cities like Los Angeles and New York, the airplane flies over less urbanized (and less popular) places such as Wyoming and Nebraska. Whoever coined the term must have thought that apart from the populous centers of the East and West Coast, other cities were considered obscure. But a certain phenomenon, with the very same forces that became catalyst to the creation of mega cities, promises an eventual transformation of their lesser counterparts- and that event is called urbanization.

Whether the reason is to reduce time and cost of transportation, or look for job opportunities or education, or even seek modern health services, more and more people flock to the ever-expanding urban centers. Growth is therefore inevitable in these financial hubs, where more specialized goods and services are available.

Urbanization is nothing new even to developing countries such as the Philippines. Locally, there exists a classification of cities which tells more or less how urbanized or populous it is: Component Cities (which basically do not meet the requirements for a Highly Urbanized City, and remain a component of a specific province), Independent Component Cities (which are independent of the province), and Highly Urbanized Cities (per Republic Act 7160, it must have at least 200,000 inhabitants with the latest income of at least 50 million pesos annually). As of December 18, 2008, the results were in for the plebiscite and Tacloban officially joined the ranks of Highly Urbanized Cities in the Philippines- but only after much debate and clamor between pro and anti-HUC.

While much of the uproar about the HUC conversion of Tacloban has died down, a question still remains as to whether or not the change was beneficial for ordinary Taclobanons. Looking at it closer, and from a pragmatic perspective, we need to see how the conversion affected the city's constituents- and by that I mean not only the affluent business people or politicians, but more importantly the local folk including street vendors,tricycle and jeepney drivers, and squatters.

The pros of the HUC reclassification certainly looked good on paper: the new status will boost the confidence of investors- which will mean more businesses in Tacloban, employment generation, a share of funds for development, independence of leadership from Leyte Province, and as how politicians such as Mayor Romualdez and Makati Mayor Binay puts it- a more competitive city in general. Five months after the status change may be a little premature to judge if the majority was right on their vote, but a quick interview among the locals pretty much gave a picture as to how the change affected some of them so far.

Mrs.Reyes, a 34 year old fruit vendor from Brgy. Nula-Tula says she was opposed to the status change of Tacloban from the beginning. Now, she complains, her income is limited now that there are certain areas where vendors are prohibited. The city office also required her to secure a permit, and with it, she paid a certain fee. Another thing was that she used to be able to go home with only one jeepney ride, but because of the re-routing, going home now consists of two rides: one going to the terminal, and finally from the terminal to her home. She says that on a daily basis, this takes its toll on an already tight financial situation.

Mr. Fernando, a pedicab driver from Brgy. 77, also complained of a dwindling daily income. The pedicab terminal was moved, and they were restricted only to the minor streets. Traffic cops, he said, are only too eager to give them a ticket at the slightest mistake. (And if the pedicab is impounded, they pay around Php500- so much more than their net daily earnings of Php150.)

Some squatter's area were started to be demolished to give way to new construction- though resettlements for those who lost their homes were promised. Left and right, downtown Tacloban seems to be abuzz with activity- people erecting billboards, setting up new shops, and constructing buildings. A previously unemployed neighbor was now working at a newly opened Gaisano Mall. A new call center started hiring trainees. More traffic cops are now seen on almost every street corner.

Perhaps Tacloban's joining the ranks of metropolitan cities like Cebu and Iloilo was inevitable, and as far as the effects are concerned- they seem to be both a mix of good and bad. Whether it would be positive in the long run for the majority, only time will tell. We can only hope that this kind of progress bridge the gap between the rich and the poor, rather than further widening it , like what is evident in most metropolitan areas (perfectly illustrated by a fancy building right next to a slum area). One thing is for sure- life in Tacloban is bound to get a lot more complex and a little more fast-paced in the days to come.
Photo Source: Taclobanon photographer Gerry Ruiz

Ironies in our Country

Tacloban is a small coastal city where life is generally slow paced. I love the laid back atmosphere- the most traffic we have occur during fiestas or festivals, and I gather no one would be complaining about that. Most of the time, people here cruise through their routines and live life simply.

This premise is however being challenged by the changing times- a “Big Dome” was just completed to serve as venue for events, and “Mall fever” hit as Robinsons and Gaisano Malls have begun construction early this year. In more than two decades of living here, it seems we’re finally going to get those plush movie theaters, minus the wooden seats and hollow block projector screen that we have now.

Passing through old Real street with my beau, I was suddenly feeling nostalgic as we passed Sto. Nino Shrine- Imelda’s ancestral home. I have never been inside, so with a little persuasion, N. agreed to go on a tour of the Heritage Museum (as PCGG would put it).

I had a little obsession back in my college days in Diliman of Mrs. Marcos’ life. As the guide (a nice lady who went on with her memorized spiel) led us around, I gave my own take on the history of the place, to which my beau gave a knowing smile.

“Imelda belonged to the poorest Romualdezes, according to a bio of her that I read. With a battered tampipi, Imelda went with a relative to Manila, where she would join a beauty pageant, lose, file a complaint, and as consolation get declared as Muse of Manila. Later she would meet a young, ambitious politico, who she will marry within eleven days of courtship.”

I continued:

“The Sto. Nino Shrine was not built until Marcos was in power. As First Lady, Imelda built a number of buildings and institutions in Manila, and of course in Leyte- among the most ambitious: the San Juanico Bridge (an engineering feat during its construction), Imelda’s Olot Residence, People’s Center, and Sto. Nino Shrine.

Imelda told people that Sto Nino Shrine was her ancestral home, but truth be told, it was merely a humble dwelling before she became First Lady. The old house was destroyed, and in its place now stood a beautiful building.”

The interior was amazing: Italian mosaic adorning the walls, chandeliers from Czechoslovakia, antique vases from China, intricately carved furniture from Korea, mirrors from Egypt, brass beds from England, King Louis XIV furniture from France, fine ivory carvings, jade statuettes, Pina and leather paneling of some of the bedrooms, antique Sto Nino’s from all over the globe, and of course, original paintings by Filipino Masters and portraits of Imelda and her family.

It was hard to believe these existed right here in a city where most people’s idea of opulence was buying a new karaoke machine during fiestas. Or displaying wedding giveaways in a divider in the living room.

I remarked to N. how the place was slowly decaying through time. The incandescent glow of the chandelier was overpowered by the light of the sun outside, and as we passed the heavily carved wooden door, I saw a sight that made my head shake in irony:

A vagrant just outside the fabulous shrine, with a pained expression, reached out her calloused hands to beg for change. I couldn't find a clearer picture of the real state of the Philippines today.