Someone who keeps her words is worth all the respect

As I came to power peacefully, so shall I keep it. This is my contract with my people and my commitment to God.

~ Pres. Corazon Aquino~

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Early Saturday morning, the television has been bombarded with old footage of the People Power Revolution and the Pres. Cory's contributions to Philippine democracy. I was at the bus that day on my way to LB when I heard the news. She lost her battle to colon cancer and was announced dead at 3:18 am.

I was in elementary when the EDSA Revolution happened. My sister then was in a hospital for an operation, so that year was more than significant for our family. Our eyes were glued on the television watching a series of nonviolent and prayerful mass street demonstrations unfold. I kept asking my mother what was going on. Why the tanks, why the guns, why are the armies fighting. Cory's speech didn't matter that much. And because I was still a child, I couldn't care much how that particular event will affect me when I grow up.

Now that the footage is being played repeatedly over the last three days, I can't help comparing the country's situation then and now. We have the same woman president who supposed to be our salvation from the Estrada administration...but she, Pres. Arroyo, will never even come close to what Cory stands for. For one, Cory had always been true to her word. Something that we will never have from Mrs. Arroyo. No wonder, her people DO NOT respect her.

A night of confessions, revelations, and making a “tabo” list

Even now I cannot understand the measure of a life, but I can tell you this. I know that when he died, his eyes were closed and his heart was open. And I'm pretty sure he was happy with his final resting place, because he was buried on the mountain. And that was against the law.

- Carter Chambers (Morgan Freeman), The Bucket List

Part 1: Confessions and revelations

I met with my co-writers the other day at the Oz Café in UP Diliman. Beverly had set up a meeting to discuss our recent book project and also to distribute to us half of the payment from our recent book anthology. We have a new publisher, owned by someone who pays on time and treat his writers with a bit of respect.

Wennie was waiting inside the café when I arrived. A few minutes more, Bebang came in followed by Haidee who was in a funky attire matched with her infamous white dangling earings (I really admire her fashion statament). We knew that Mar would not be coming because he was in Isabela, his home town.

While waiting for Jing to arrive, Wennie told us about her "gutsy confession" to a guy whom she’s been admiring and loving for years. She said such confession "has to be done" so that she could function normally. She does it to free herself (I love the way she puts things in perspective). I was smiling the whole time she was telling to us the incidence. Such a gutsy lady, I thought. She calls the guy “tol” which I find really cute (dunno it's equivalent in English). It turned out that the guy has a girlfriend. But the confession have gotten along so well that they've become friends and have shared stories for hours.

As Wennie’s story came to an end, Jing appeared from the door of the café. I knew something was up, there's something in the heavy air she brought with her. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I was too caught up with the story of Wennie that I shrugged it off. True to my hunch, Jing did announce something that night. One, that she is pregnant. Two, she is getting married soon. Flabbergasted but we are happy for her. I am (quite) excited to cover her wedding actually. It's going to be my first wedding assignment, if things pushed through. Well, a civil wedding for that matter.

Part 2: My "Tabo" List

So while everyone was happy about the confessions and revelations and the royalties we recieved that night, I suggested that we watched a movie afterwards. I just felt like being with them for a longer time. I haven't seen them much. Everyone seems busy. Being a movie buff that I am, I took the initiative to suggest Rob Reiner’s The Bucket List.

The movie tells the story of two terminal cancer patients (Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman) who formed a friendship while stuck sharing a hospital room. When both are told that they only have a few months left to live (6 months to a year), they decide to accomplish a "bucket list" -- a list of things they'd like to do before they die. Soon they were jetting off to see the Pyramids of Egypt, the Taj Mahal, the Great Wall of China, The Serengeti in Africa, The Himalayas and made stop overs at fancy shops and restos in Chateau de la Chevre d'Or in France. They went skydiving and drive race cars. Throughout their journey, they have discovered more than what they hoped to achieve.

Bucket List is a simple movie. It’s inspirational, thus it tends to be melodramatic. It’s a travelogue through life offering a deeper perspective on one’s existence and purpose in life. But I should say that there's enough humor strewn throughout the movie to keep one from overdosing from the sense of seriousness. I had a dose of my own laughs.

When watching a film (especially during the sappy part), I try to pan my view from the screen to the audience and observe them. Beverly was beside me and I saw her crying (trying not, but she was hehehe!). And then I turned to myself: Why the heck am I not crying?! I (almost) did but my tears went back, haha!

After the movie, everyone agreed. The movie is inspiring. “Bucket list looks fun but it’s expensive!” I retorted.

Bebang suggested that we make our own “bucket list” but she wanted to put it in the Philippine context so she dubbed it the “tabo list”. I honestly think that Beverly is not only pretty, she is witty and funny too. The English word for “tabo” is “dipper”. Filipinos use tabo when taking a bath because most of us are not fond of using the shower. We hate wasting water (especially for some whose water comes by schedule or has to be paid by the bucket). All we need is a bucket (balde) of water and a dipper (tabo) and we are all set.

So anyway, I was thinking some items for my “tabo list” and so far, here’s what I got.

1. Try nude photography using an Adam and Eve motif. (I will just be the photographer).
2. Go to Peré Lachaise and spend half a day at the grave of Jim Morrison and the other half at the tombs of Honoré de Balzac, Marcel Proust, and Oscar Wilde.
3. Conquer my fear of heights and try extreme sports: skydiving, bungee jumping, rock climbing, hang gliding, and paragliding.
4. Tell the story of my life to a total stranger, sparing no details.
5. Climb Mt. Apo, the highest mountain in the Philippines (2,954 m or 9,692 ft).
6. Do my own version of the Wennie-gutsy-confession to a guy I have been admiring for the last 8 years and never expect anything.
7. Do a cameo role in a film (preferably a Coen Bros film).
8. Write a novel and have it published.
9. Drink beers until I drop at the Oktoberfest in Munich, Germany.
10. Participate in the Boston Marathon.

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Tuol Sleng: Cambodia's Dark Moments

"I really hope people will not deny their own emotions or shut them off because the images might be disturbing.
It very important that viewers not shut down, but instead engage their own emotions."

~James Nachtwey~

Every history has its dark moments.

For a country like Cambodia, a great portion of this painful and miserable history is pinned down to the four-year reign of the notorious Khmer Rouge (1975-1979). They are long gone, what the Cambodians have now are vestiges and painful memories of those dark moments.

While most tourists come to Cambodia mainly to see the ancient ruins of Angkor Wat, some would opt to take a glimpse into its grim past and meet head-on with the horrible episodes of Cambodia's history by visiting its Genocide Museums. We chose to traverse both historical moments.

Being sucked into the moment, I started throwing questions along the way. Is man by nature evil? Is this a moment of the past or is it a recurring phenomenon? Of course, this wasn’t the first time that I tried questioning even the capacity of human's emotion to bear witness to such horrible blunder of the past. It doesn't either help that I was doing this meandering in a foreign country. But one thing I realized, for a minute or so, going to Tuol Sleng Museum made me feel I am the luckiest person alive (or my generation for that matter).

If you are the type of tourist who would simply want to enjoy and bring home nothing but “sweet” memories from Cambodia, visiting this place would probably ruin your whole adventure. It's not a pleasant piece of sightseeing. Emotionally, you will be brutally tortured. It will haunt you for days (at least, that is what happened to me). But if you want to understand Cambodia and its people, then this is one historical visit that you would not want to miss.

Located in the suburbs of Phnom Penh, Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum used to be secondary school. In Khmer, Tuol Sleng means “Hill of the Poisonous Trees”. With the rise of the Khmer Rouge, Pol Pot transformed it into a prison called S-21 (Security Office 21), the biggest in the Kampuchea Democratic. The prison was surrounded by double wall of corrugated iron and surmounted by thick barbed wires. But it’s not only a prison. S-21 became a centre for interrogation and torture for its victims. The classrooms were divided into several cells and were pierced with holes for connection. The upper floor was used for mass detention. Bigger rooms were used to brutally torture the victims.

Several thousands of the victims were imprisoned and exterminated with their wives and their children. Only a few of these poor souls who were brought into the prison survived.

Going there, we met an amputee asking for money. It felt awkward going inside. The air was heavier here than in the Killing Fields. I knew then that we were bound for something hefty and unusual. We spotted a woman at the counter who gave us brochures on Tuol Sleng in exchange for our entrance fees. There were a handful of tourists with us, some of them were sucking into the moment, some opted to sit on the available benches after the round, some opted to enjoy a peaceful walk around the vicinity, others treated it at a passing moment.

The gate of Tuol Sleng Museum. This is the first batch of barbed wires you will notice upon entering the facility. As you go along, these barbed wires will become the most common sight in this place.

Over at the counter, there is this lady who greets the visitors. After paying the entrance fee, she'll be handing out brochures about Tuol Sleng Museum, sort of an introduction of what to expect in this visit. The brochures are in black and white.

In strategic corner of the facility, we spotted this attention note on how to appropriately behave while inside the museum. This is also in respect to the souls of the victims who suffered and died unjustly in this place.

This is the grave of the 14 victims located at the front of Building A. The 14 victims whose corpses where found by the Army Forces in this exact place were the last ones killed by the agent of S-21.

The long and empty corridor located at the 3rd floor of Building A. These former classrooms were transformed into various cells wherein the victims were being detained and brutally tortured to death.

Inside the (larger) cell, it's more creepy. Each cell contains an old bedframe, a painting of the person who was brutally tortured on this bed hanging on the empty wall, and soots on the ceiling that darkens the four corners. Some of the cells still have the rusty shackles and the stained mat used during the torture.

View of Building B as seen from the 3rd floor of Building A.

Inside Building B are bust photos of the victims being exhibited in panels covered with glass. These are photos of children, women, peasants, workers, technicians, engineers, doctors, teachers, students, buddhist monks, ministers, Pol Pot's cadres, soldiers of all ranks, members of Cambodian Diplomatic Corps, foreigners, ordinary people, etc. killed during Pol Pot's regime.

This is (perhaps) the most haunting set of photos I've seen: the photos of children.

From this point, I feel like a prisoner myself.

I took several photos of this facility. And reviewing it now, I said to myself, "Was I able to capture the right images? Should I let them see what I saw? Or should I spare them of the details?" At least spare them of the emotional torture. Afterall, whoever said that photography is a mere approximation of reality has been right all along. The photographer chooses for the viewers. In this case, I did not only choose the images to show, I also choose to present it in monochrome.

I am hoping that I could share with you at least a portion of what I felt that day. I could tell you that after coming out from Tuol Sleng Museum I felt like half of "my soul was completely(trapped) in there" but you might think I am over exagerating a bit here. I could tell you that "the feeling was intense" but then those are just words. You could believe me for awhile, but you will never truly understand the feeling. Describing it is the next best thing, but even that would not suffice. I believe I've ran out of words to say.

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James Nachtwey has always been my one (and only) favorite photojournalist of all time. I look at the images he produces and say, "Nothing could beat the bravery of this man."

Experiencing “death and survival” at Choeung Ek

Boy, when you're dead, they really fix you up. I hope to hell when I do die somebody has sense enough to just dump me in the river or something. Anything except sticking me in a goddam cemetery. People coming and putting a bunch of flowers on your stomach on Sunday, and all that crap. Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.

~J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye~

It was in 2001 when I first saw The Killing Field, a British film about the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia. Watching it then, I have no idea of the savage execution, starvation and forced labor imposed by the Red Khmer headed by Saloth Sar a.k.a "Pol Pot". I was both horrified and enthused. I have long been aware of the horrors of war and survival all over the world, but never had this film struck me in the face like that.

After watching the film, I had long established an affinity for Cambodia so much so that I promised myself that I would one day visit Phnom Penh to see the Killing Fields. That promised did come true. Going there, I thought I would just be an outsider visiting a remnant of this particular gruesome memory, little did I know that I would be this affected.

It was our second day in Phnom Penh. Oki and I prepared our itinerary and showed it to our rickshaw driver whom we contracted for the whole day to tour us around. He suggested that we go to Choeung Ek Memorial (Killing Fields) first thing in the morning before heading to other desired destinations since it is located outside the city (15 km SE of Phnom Penh) and would take us around 45 minutes to an hour depending on the traffic. Although we agreed, I was hesistant at first. I just don't feel like starting my day with visiting the killing fields. Nonetheless, the 45-minute travel prepared me for the worst (feeling).

Spotting the sign, we turned left all the way to a narrow and dusty road. The killing field is just half kilometer away from this point. Around this time, I already had the weird feeling.

This is the newly-built gate of Choeung Ek Genocidal Center.

We made our way through the traffic-clogged city towards south eastwards along the Monireth Boulevard. Veering along the dusty road of the suburbs, we passed by several factories, buildings under construction, a pile of rusting cars and onto the rural village full of stilt houses. For awhile, I thought I was just taking a road trip to the outskirts of Laguna but getting lost in translation with all those signs and advertisements we have passed by along the way made me realized I am in a foreign land.

We followed a narrow track with rice paddies on the left side of the road which reminded me of one of my short trips to Calauan. A moment later we noticed a sign with the photos of the Choeung Ek Genocidal Center. The sign says we're only 500 m. away from the site. A few minutes more, the mood suddenly became lonesome. It could be some other feeling but "lonesome" is the closest I could think of. It doesn’t help that the site is located in a deserted compound. Except for some young Koreans who seem to be at a lost roaming around the place, tourists were not much around.

This is the commemorative stupa with all the exhumed skulls being displayed inside a glass. This memorial has a yellow-tiled roof which is distinctive in Khmer architecture. It was built in 1988 to house the remains of 8,985 victims that were unearthed in 86 separate graves discovered at the killing fields.

This also served as a memorial for Buddhist funeral rites which is performed to allow the spirits of the deceased a more peaceful passage to the afterlife.

We paid $2 for the entrance and we were greeted by two men in uniforms sitting on the stools. We showed our tickets and headed our way to a huge commemorative stupa which we immediately spotted upon entering the vicinity. Inside this memorial are skulls of the victims lined-up and confined inside a glass. Getting a close encounter with these exhumed skulls felt weird. I’ve seen them in pictures and in documentaries but seeing them for real is intense.

“Killing fields” are actually dumping grounds for dead bodies. The memorial at Choeung Ek is one of most infamous killing fields during the Khmer Rouge regime. Prior to that, the place was an orchard.

Perhaps the most distrubing image you will see are these bleached skulls piled inside the glass. It disturbs me more the way these skulls are arranged. The three skulls at the back seems like they're "screaming" from gruesome pain or something. Then again, that is just me and my wild imagination.

Choeung Ek is the site of the brutal executions of more than 17,000 men, women and children, most of whom first suffered through interrogation, torture and deprivation in the Toul Sleng or Security Prison-21 (which we've visited right after).

The "magic tree" which was used as "a tool to hang a loudspeaker which make sound louder to avoid the moan of victims while they were being executed."

One of the large open pits, marked 7. On the sign it says, "mass grave of 166 victims without heads" I am terrified to know what's beyond those murky pits.

Behind the stupa is a vast forage area for cattle grazing but after 1975, this was turned into a mass grave wherein human bones sometimes come unearthed after heavy rains. There are open pits with easily spotted shards of bone and remnants along the enclosed field. Some of the largest pits are marked with numbers and mass grave signposts.

Standing noticeably in the field is “the magic tree” which was used as a tool to hang a loudspeaker to amplify the sound and to prevent the victims from moaning while being executed.

Cambodian kids on top of a tree. Climbing this tree enables them to get inside the enclosed killing field. They hang out here and wait for tourists to ask for money.

As we ended the tour, we passed by a group of kids at the other side of the fence. They were climbing up to the tree to get inside. After I took a couple of shots, they insisted that I gave them money in exchange. I told them I don’t have money. But one of the kids persisted that I give them a dollar since I took their picture. I was astounded for a bit and gave them a smile.

I headed for my route but the kids followed me around and insisted that I gave them some money. I got alarmed and headed for a run. Being in Cambodia for awhile, one thing I learned fast is how to avoid kids who extort money from tourists and really being persistent with it to the point of following them around.

Oki is being hounded by the kids asking for more Max menthol candies! ;-)

They cornered Oki though, and insisted that she gave them money. Quick-witted as she is, Oki grab a pack of her Max menthol and distributed them to the kids. We bought two packs of them. I bought mine to serve as my lozenges since I’ve had my cough since we set foot in Bangkok. I was some steps away, watching her while she's being mugged by these kids.

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