It was devastating news. The untimely death of Crispin “Ka Bel” Beltran hit hard.

For those who have had the opportunity to work closely with Ka Bel would know how endearing he was. His smile, always genuine. He always had a firm handshake, a warm hug, a good word to spare.

Knowing how he was despite of who he was is very very humbling indeed.

This member of the House of Representatives lived a very simple and modest life. Before transferring to the single-room, unpainted Bulacan home where he met his death, he lived in an urban poor community not far from the Batasan Complex and not far from the garbage dump, Payatas.

That Ka Bel died from a fall, trying to repair his leaking roof was just so like Ka Bel. Knowing Ka Bel as the hard-working, hands-on, stubborn lolo that he is, of course he would insist on going up the ladder himself.

Just as he would insist on his principles, on his long discussions on labor issues, the urban poor and the poverty of the Filipino masses. Just as he would insist on wearing a “devil GMA” shirt under his barong tagalog during Congress sessions. Just as he would insist on marching during rallies despite his health.

He served, fought and live to the fullest. He insisted on doing so.

He loved to drink coffee. Almost always, South wing 602 of the Hosue of Representatives where he held office would sport the aroma of percolating brewed coffee. Never mind that he has hypertension, diabetes and a heart ailment that should have kept him from having his cup of coffee. He would insist on it.

On his 75th birthday last January, I held in my hand a brownie slice of sinfully sweet food for the gods. Like a child he took it from my hand as I greeted him happy birthday. He looked at it, beamed like a naughty boy and as he opened it, he said, “Bawal sa akin ‘to!” and munched. I prayed and am thankful his blood sugar didn’t shoot up that very moment.

A doting great grandfather to his great grandchildren, he was a great grandfather to many young activists like me. A rare icon of the Philippine labor movement.

Ka Bel’s demise is an intense loss on the militant labor and people’s movement. He was and is very much loved and he will be sorely missed.

Evil. Lucky Bitch. Duwende. Tsunami. Pandak.

No other woman president in this country has been called by so many derogatory names in public. I do not know if this would hold true for all women presidents globally, but in my book, its certainly Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.

It was something I never imagined I would do: rise in standing ovation at a speech delivered by (as I write this still) Speaker of the House of Representatives Jose De Venecia.

Tonight, JDV delivered a very impassioned speech that reminded me of the powerful “I accuse…” speech of then Senator Teofisto Guingona. That speech led to the ouster of then President Joseph Estrada.

JDV, in his speech virtually enumerated one deadly sin after another committed by Gloria Macapagal Arroyo.

He started with telling everyone how he, as kingmaker or perhaps queenmaker, built up Arroyo to where she is right now. He had been, as he said “right by the President’s side” through all political turmoil, one impeachment complaint after another and seen her through.

But now we see a beleaguered JDV. Under attack by the Arroyos after his son, Joey De Venecia chose to speak on the ZTE contract.

And so, despite all he has done for the Arroyos, and as a warning to those about to unseat him he said, “it could happen to you.”

And so he went on to enumerate one anomaly after another– the overpriced ZTE contract, the Transco deal that went to yet another Arroyo ally, and the 2AM proclamation of GMA as president in 2004 questionable election results, to which the House of Representatives under his leadership, was party to.

Honestly calls for moral revolution, for unity seems so well, unbelievable, coming from a politician like JDV. He is, admittedly so, “a sinner” and not the ideal person to lead such a revolution.

Will his speech, like that of VP Guingona, lead to snowballing protests that could oust GMA? Will JDV be consistent with what he has said and reveal more of the anomalies under the Arroyo administration that he had been a party to? That remains to be seen.

And so now for GMA, after JDV’s speech, should do well to remember Erap after the Guingona speech. It could happen to you!

Jusme, kilabutan nga kayo.

It was all I could say as thousands of peasants marching for land towards the historic Mendiola bridge were met by placard-bearing police women.

The messages ranged from unbelievable to hilarious.

“Kami ay kaagapay ninyo sa kaayusan at katahimikan ng bayan”

“Mapayapang magpahayag ng damdamin para kapayapaan ay mapasaatin”

What d f**k???

Does General Razon’s PNP and his Mamang Pulis spinmasters seriously think they could pull off such insincere messages of peace while peasants are marching to commemorate the day when 13 of them were gunned down by policemen in a rally for genuine land reform 21 years ago?

Stupid.

PNP rally antics have been done before: police women facing a composite of women rallyists, police women giving white roses and now the placards. This is the worst yet.

For one, its always the women. Why the women? This macho institution always resorts to using the women in their ranks for such tasks of facing rallyists in attempts to make protesters appear anti-women in spite of the justness of the calls. Moreover, these tasks are regarded as well, weak and therefore feminine. For the PNP, avoiding confrontation is a woman’s job.

Secondly,do they really think the public is stupid? The PNP along with the AFP are long time record holders of being the number 1 human rights violators in the country. This is a record that cannot be erased with generic messages of peace on tarpaulin placards. This is a record that was attained and sustained year after year after year with the deaths and disappearance of countless of activists, human rights volunteers, journalists and leaders, most of the victims coming from the ranks of peasants.

Winning the propaganda war and hearts and minds of the people goes beyond placards and lip service. Mamang Pulis would do well to rethink its strategy. The same goes for the AFP.

I cannot do December. But then again, I cannot not do December.

Year after year after year I tell that to myself, with a feeling of dread at the pit of my stomach knowing I have to face the inevitable: Christmas.

It starts with the countdowns, blahblah days to go before Christmas. Then you hear this dingdongding melody on the radio when Halloween hasn’t even gotten there yet. Then as September becomes October and so on, the next thing you know panic, sets in. Schedules become cramped with reunions and Christmas parties, traffic, year-end deadlines and reports and things you feel you need to get over and done with before the year ends. And I tell myself, I cannot do December and survive with my sanity intact.

Its not my favorite season of the year, obviously. But not to be the grinch for my nieces and nephews, I go along (with much effort) with the ceremonial gift-giving, cooking for the noche buena and media noche pot lucks, going to mass, singing carols and eating more than what I usually eat.

That really isn’t so bad if only the season does not magnify the reality that slaps you in the face everyday.

For an entire year you learn to live with just passing by the candy and yosi vendor; or looking out the jeepney window when a street child wipes your shoes along Quezon Avenue for coins; or not notice the tired face of the cleaning lady at the MRT; ignore the gaping holes on the soles of the slippers of a young boy pushing the trolly along railroad tracks lined with cardboard homes and accept all of these as a part of the f*cking Phillipine society you were born into. It gets frustrating in December. How the hell can you do December? Its different in December.

But it really can be different in December. People seem more charitable, donations pour, telethons for this cause and that institution, concerts for a cause etcetera.

Or is it just the media hype? Because then you see the news.

Vendors who, no different from myself, are trying to beat their deadlines– that of making enough off their wares before the 24th to give their families a decent noche buena– being demolished. All in the name of easing the Christmas traffic.

Then there are the Sumilao farmers who did make the deadline on foot arriving in Manila to ask for land. But then there is the government who wants to beat its own deadline by getting rid of the farmers before Christmas, offering them a ride home along with a stinky land reform deal that supposedly overturns a land-conversion decision to favor Cojuangco’s San Miguel but compels the farmers to still pay for the land.

And then there’s a great December promotion for rapists to go scot free. An honest mistake, Malacanang says, but who trusts Gloria Arroyo enough, believing her to be honest even with mistakes? Phoooey. Ex-Congressman Romeo Jalosjos, convicted rapist of an 11-year old girl is being rewarded by Mrs. Arroyo for his province’ remarkable performance in delivering the votes for her in 2004 and for her senatorial slate in 2007. Honestly no mistake.

And finally you see Mrs. Arroyo kissing the AFP brass ass on their 70th anniversary thanking them for their loyalty, and swearing to high heavens insurgency will be wiped out by 2010. What has been wiped out are communities after communities of peasants. Some have fled and become internal refugees, and some have added to the ranks of the insurgents this regime boasts to get rid of but cultivates instead.

I swear cannot do December. To prove it, I’ve had fever for three straight days and migraine to boot but I am writing this blog with hopes that it will release whatever that needs to be released to survive this season.

It shouldn’t be so bad but doing December has become such an effort especially when the Gloria Grinch makes the lights blink and not glitter. They just blink. And like many of us, pundi na.

At the Manila Peninsula, police rounded up 30 or so members of the press who were but doing their job of covering an unfolding political event.

Arroyo’s police probably do no know, but that’s what you do when you’re a journalist. You get into the thick of the action, scramble for the front seat so you can get a complete view of the show and have a complete story to tell the public.

It was therefore a hardworking journalist’s job to stay at the Peninsula that fateful Thursday afternoon amid tear gas and tanks.

That’s what happens in this country when you do your job and you do it well. You get arrested.

Look at those whose job is to give us clean and orderly elections. They do a horrendous job then they get kickback opportunities plus the chance to run for public office. On the contrary, those who try to count the ballots properly, get stuck in burning classrooms and die.

And look at that woman who cheated, stole and lied so that she could run this country. She’s still there isn’t she? She must be doing a hell of job.

My nephew Diwin is one month old today!

His parents say his name Diwin means “to mold” as in works of pottery or “to create”.

And that’s exactly what this little bundle of joy does. Cuteness talaga!!!

He has so far molded his mother into a full-grown fulfilled, proud, breastfeeding mother who now sends out emails announcing Diwin’s 1st month of existence.

He has created much ruckus and happiness in the home. He commands everyone’s attention at the slightest whimper. He has everyone breaking into laughs with one tiny smile, a burp and even with a fart.

We have created a blog for Diwin. And like my nephew, it is a cute work in progress.

Wala lang.. this is a proud tita’s blog..

Today, November 25 is International Women’s Day of Protest to End Violence Against Women. It also marks the death anniversary of the Dominican Republic’s “Las Mariposas”— Mirabal sisters, Teresa, Patria and Minerva, who, in their determined struggle against the Trujillo dictatorship inspired so many others.

In the hands of the dictator, they faced persecution. Their families endured the separation and the constant surveillance, threats and harassment. Minerva, Patria and Teresa were abused, abducted, tortured, detained, executed.

There are Mariposas now as there are Mariposas then.

For three straight days I have been looking at photos of this country’s modern-day Mariposas. Gabriela Women’s Party will be putting forward the issue of women Desaparecidos under the Arroyo regime. The process is haunting. It evokes feelings of sadness, anger, rage.

There are thirty of them as of last count, among them, Juliet Fernandez who I have known in my budding years as a student-activist with Gabriela-Youth. Juliet being Gabriela-Youth secretary general at that time. She was part of The Catalyst, the publication of the Polytechnic University of the Philippines and the College Editors Guild of the Philippines. She eventually opted to affiliate with Amihan the national federation of peasant women and Pamalakaya, organizing fisherfolks in Samar.

Last May 11, Juliet and her husband, Manuel Pajarito was abducted by suspected members of the Philippine Army’s 62nd InfantryBatallion. Efforts to find Juliet and Manuel have led members of a fact finding team from one military camp to another.

S ix months after, we still have no news of Juliet or her husband.

Juliet joins the ranks of Luisa Posa-Dominado, Sherlyn Cadapan, Karen Empeno (who, as of recent developments, were raped and tortured according to a witness) and a host of others who were abducted, tortured, summarily executed.

They are the modern-day Mariposas of this country.

This is a regime that attempts to quell dissent by making women and men vanish. It is an attempt that fails time and again. The legacy of Mariposas live on.

Kendra is my handy ultra-portable online Asus EEEPC. Sleek, pearly white, lightweight and tiny enough to fit not in an obvious rectangle laptop bag but in a very normal girlie  kikay bag.

Initially I had trouble about the EEEPC, well, Kendra not being available on time. I was raring to get a laptop by the last week of September, with friends Tonyo, Ina and Kim accompanying me on the quest for a low-budget, quality and respectably cute (definition: below 14″ in size) one. For hours Kim and Tonyo convinced me to wait, wait and wait for Kendra, with Kim even humiliating a respectable 12″ Twinhead laptop in the process.

They said Kendra would be available in October. She was not. Then Mau broke the news it would be available in PC Corner by November 5. It was not. I got Kendra 5 days later. Worth the wait.

It did not take much to adjust to the tiny keyboard, it just takes constant spell checks every now and then. And while I am a neophyte to Linux, it wasn’t that difficult as well.

So its me and Kendra online and when there isnt any wireless internet access, its me and Kendra and Crack Attack.

Kendra has my boyfriend jealous.

She is the reason why I am fast running out of excuses not to blog or not to be online. She is the reason why all of a sudden I am getting this urge to introduce internet connectivity at home since it can very well be so much cheaper than going to your nearest burger king or the office or gloria jeans timog which according to my friend tonyo has free wifi access: see here

I am still way out of my freaking budget so that will have to be postponed.

And oh, my friend Tonyo devoted space reviewing Kendra on his site.

So there, meet Kendra.

So my friends Tonyo and Ina will finally say, sa wakas  may blog ka na rin… and I finally got to getting this well, wordpress standard hello world maiden post  that goes:

Welcome to WordPress.com. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!

So its me and my handy Kendra out to explore this side of the world and see what good it will do me and the other way around.

I am admittedly not inclined towards making my thoughts public. I am not exactly a very public person, though many would believe otherwise– the loud and sometimes even theatrical person that I can be.

Believe me, I’m shy!

Let me just say, this blog and its entries isn’t necessarily me… or all of me. This is the icing on my cake, the pinipig on my ice cream, the leche flan on my halo-halo, the garlic on my goto, the latik on my biko, the niyog on my puto..

So its hello i guess..