Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Commuter Tales No. 1: Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman with an Umbrella
Commuter Tales INTRO
I grew up on a jeepney.
I grew up riding public transportation: the ubiquitous tricycles in San Jose, Occidental Mindoro, the jazzed-up “patok” jeepneys of Montalban to the lumbering yellow buses of San Mateo, Rizal. As a loyal “pasahero” I have had quite a number of memorable experiences within those confined spaces of public conveyances that I decided to collect them as a series of vignettes which I originally planned to release as an ashcan comix (who knows? It may yet happen). I thought: “if Harvey Pekar can do it, so can I!”.
Harvey Pekar of “American Splendor” can attract top talents, however and I, on the other hand, is only limited to a bunch of people I could force to draw for me for a song: namely my brother, Mannie and my brother, Mannie. (Who is always perennially busy, by the way.)
I decided therefore, to just release the darn thing anyway in the form of blog entries. So here it is. Hope you enjoy them. (Yes, I’m talking to the two of you.)
Commuter Tales No. 1: HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN WITH AN UMBRELLA
I’m very bad at remembering names. I could remember a face very well but somehow I often fail at supplying the correct name for a particular face.
There was this time when a middle-aged woman tried to start a conversation with me on a jeepney while I was on my way to work. She was a heavy-set woman with a large friendly face. She appears to be on the way to the market because she was holding a large “bayong” (market bag) and an umbrella. The woman also seems she knows my mother. She asked about her, and I told her my mom was OK.
Then without further ado, she paid for my fare, along with hers.
Since she beat me to the draw of paying the fare(not that I will pay for her fare but I was more than willing to reimburse her, only she wouldn’t hear any of it), I now felt a debt of gratitude to her. I had to keep the conversation she started, going. I had to nod and smile and try to appear interested in everything she says even if in back of my mind I was still trying to fit the puzzle of “connect the face with a name”.
Of course, now that the lopsided conversation---it was mostly her talking with me nodding my head with a few 'ah-huhs' here and there---has gone on for a while, it puts me in a quandary. It would just be a tad too impolite to interrupt her and ask her what’s her name. Why, that would mean, I wasn’t really listening to her since I could not place her story within a proper context of how I knew her. Besides, I had pretended I knew her the moment she called my attention. Ah, what to do?
Meanwhile, another woman went on board the jeepney. She was about the same age as my benefactor but the thick make-up and frilly dress she wore invites everyone to believe she was younger than she was. When my benefactor saw her, the latter clammed up. Alas, some peace and quiet for the rest of my journey, I thought.
It was a short trip, by the way: just under four kilometers. It only appeared longer because I had to carry the conversation along during lulls and…well, I thought, I had paid for my fare by being a polite conversationalist.
Then my friendly benefactor, the one with a shining benevolent face and St.-Francis-of-Assissi smile suddenly turned red in the face and turned her attention to the new passenger. The sheep was turning into a wolf. A big, bad, pissed-off, take-no-prisoners wolf.
“Where is my husband?” she shrieked. Yes, shrieked. I could swear I saw her fangs glisten. Now, everyone’s attention was on them. The newly-arrived passenger turns out to be the concubine of my benefactor’s husband. They started exchanging heated words inside the jeepney.
Then it started to get ugly. My wolf started to jab the concubine with the pointed end of her long umbrella. The concubine was feisty too but her umbrella was too short so she resorted to deflecting the jabs and retaliated through taunts and verbal attacks.
I could feel the dagger looks of the rest of the passengers on me. I can hear them think: "Why don't you stop the crazy woman? Don't you know her? Didn't she just pay your fare?". STOP HER. Do something! I tried to pacify the wolf but since I never really knew her or even her name before this fateful jeepney ride, I could not come up with an appropriate summoning or spell that would divert her attention from her homicidal tendencies. Whenever I try to deflect her umbrella from hitting the concubine, I was liable to injure the other passengers. So I just decided to hold the umbrella firmly to prevent it from being used as a deadly weapon. I was grappling with the umbrella as my benefactor was about to lunge at the throat of the other woman.
Finally, the jeepney screeched to a halt. The driver has had enough. He could not let these women fight inside his jeepney. He ordered them to get off.
The wolf-woman went down to the sidewalk. She was still itching for a fight and was looking forward to smashing the face of the concubine to the street. (She said so.) But the concubine wouldn't budge. She knew couldn't last two minutes with my transfigured benefactor. She told the driver to floor it.
But the wolf immediately got wind of the plan. With both hands, she grabbed hold of the handle bars at the back end of the jeep and screams at the driver (yes, screams that even the people three blocks away seems to have been awakened from their slumber) that if the concubine does not get off the jeepney, she would let herself get dragged by the jeep.
More dagger looks. The people on the streets, including, whom I suspect to be the old grannies who were sleeping three blocks away start to congregate near the ruckus.
It was quite a scene. The woman was willing to get dragged by the jeepney if she couldn't get her claws on the neck of the other woman. I repeatedly pleaded to my wolf "tama na po, tama na po" ("That's enough, ma'am. That's enough.") as I try to pry her claws---I mean fingers---from the handle bars. But she was beyond reason! There's a crazed glint in her eyes. I felt she couldn't care less about how she looks or sounded, she's going to have her revenge---either inside or outside the jeepney.
A few seconds of distraction wherein our protagonist releases her vise grip on the metal bars of the jeep was enough for the driver to speed away.
The driver and the other passengers laughed so hard but I couldn't join them. The other woman was still in the jeep and I couldn't be that insensitive. The other passengers tried to felicitously ask the other woman whether she was hurt but I couldn't join them, because after all---I was friends with the enemy. My benefactor was left biting the dust but I couldn't join her: heck, I didn't know her and besides...I might be late for work.
I hang my head in shame for the rest of the trip never uttering another word. It was just about two kilometers but it was a very long two kilometers.
Now, when I ride the jeep, I try to pay my fare immediately before looking at the faces of the other passengers. It's a lesson well-learned.
I grew up on a jeepney.
I grew up riding public transportation: the ubiquitous tricycles in San Jose, Occidental Mindoro, the jazzed-up “patok” jeepneys of Montalban to the lumbering yellow buses of San Mateo, Rizal. As a loyal “pasahero” I have had quite a number of memorable experiences within those confined spaces of public conveyances that I decided to collect them as a series of vignettes which I originally planned to release as an ashcan comix (who knows? It may yet happen). I thought: “if Harvey Pekar can do it, so can I!”.
Harvey Pekar of “American Splendor” can attract top talents, however and I, on the other hand, is only limited to a bunch of people I could force to draw for me for a song: namely my brother, Mannie and my brother, Mannie. (Who is always perennially busy, by the way.)
I decided therefore, to just release the darn thing anyway in the form of blog entries. So here it is. Hope you enjoy them. (Yes, I’m talking to the two of you.)
Commuter Tales No. 1: HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN WITH AN UMBRELLA
I’m very bad at remembering names. I could remember a face very well but somehow I often fail at supplying the correct name for a particular face.
There was this time when a middle-aged woman tried to start a conversation with me on a jeepney while I was on my way to work. She was a heavy-set woman with a large friendly face. She appears to be on the way to the market because she was holding a large “bayong” (market bag) and an umbrella. The woman also seems she knows my mother. She asked about her, and I told her my mom was OK.
Then without further ado, she paid for my fare, along with hers.
Since she beat me to the draw of paying the fare(not that I will pay for her fare but I was more than willing to reimburse her, only she wouldn’t hear any of it), I now felt a debt of gratitude to her. I had to keep the conversation she started, going. I had to nod and smile and try to appear interested in everything she says even if in back of my mind I was still trying to fit the puzzle of “connect the face with a name”.
Of course, now that the lopsided conversation---it was mostly her talking with me nodding my head with a few 'ah-huhs' here and there---has gone on for a while, it puts me in a quandary. It would just be a tad too impolite to interrupt her and ask her what’s her name. Why, that would mean, I wasn’t really listening to her since I could not place her story within a proper context of how I knew her. Besides, I had pretended I knew her the moment she called my attention. Ah, what to do?
Meanwhile, another woman went on board the jeepney. She was about the same age as my benefactor but the thick make-up and frilly dress she wore invites everyone to believe she was younger than she was. When my benefactor saw her, the latter clammed up. Alas, some peace and quiet for the rest of my journey, I thought.
It was a short trip, by the way: just under four kilometers. It only appeared longer because I had to carry the conversation along during lulls and…well, I thought, I had paid for my fare by being a polite conversationalist.
Then my friendly benefactor, the one with a shining benevolent face and St.-Francis-of-Assissi smile suddenly turned red in the face and turned her attention to the new passenger. The sheep was turning into a wolf. A big, bad, pissed-off, take-no-prisoners wolf.
“Where is my husband?” she shrieked. Yes, shrieked. I could swear I saw her fangs glisten. Now, everyone’s attention was on them. The newly-arrived passenger turns out to be the concubine of my benefactor’s husband. They started exchanging heated words inside the jeepney.
Then it started to get ugly. My wolf started to jab the concubine with the pointed end of her long umbrella. The concubine was feisty too but her umbrella was too short so she resorted to deflecting the jabs and retaliated through taunts and verbal attacks.
I could feel the dagger looks of the rest of the passengers on me. I can hear them think: "Why don't you stop the crazy woman? Don't you know her? Didn't she just pay your fare?". STOP HER. Do something! I tried to pacify the wolf but since I never really knew her or even her name before this fateful jeepney ride, I could not come up with an appropriate summoning or spell that would divert her attention from her homicidal tendencies. Whenever I try to deflect her umbrella from hitting the concubine, I was liable to injure the other passengers. So I just decided to hold the umbrella firmly to prevent it from being used as a deadly weapon. I was grappling with the umbrella as my benefactor was about to lunge at the throat of the other woman.
Finally, the jeepney screeched to a halt. The driver has had enough. He could not let these women fight inside his jeepney. He ordered them to get off.
The wolf-woman went down to the sidewalk. She was still itching for a fight and was looking forward to smashing the face of the concubine to the street. (She said so.) But the concubine wouldn't budge. She knew couldn't last two minutes with my transfigured benefactor. She told the driver to floor it.
But the wolf immediately got wind of the plan. With both hands, she grabbed hold of the handle bars at the back end of the jeep and screams at the driver (yes, screams that even the people three blocks away seems to have been awakened from their slumber) that if the concubine does not get off the jeepney, she would let herself get dragged by the jeep.
More dagger looks. The people on the streets, including, whom I suspect to be the old grannies who were sleeping three blocks away start to congregate near the ruckus.
It was quite a scene. The woman was willing to get dragged by the jeepney if she couldn't get her claws on the neck of the other woman. I repeatedly pleaded to my wolf "tama na po, tama na po" ("That's enough, ma'am. That's enough.") as I try to pry her claws---I mean fingers---from the handle bars. But she was beyond reason! There's a crazed glint in her eyes. I felt she couldn't care less about how she looks or sounded, she's going to have her revenge---either inside or outside the jeepney.
A few seconds of distraction wherein our protagonist releases her vise grip on the metal bars of the jeep was enough for the driver to speed away.
The driver and the other passengers laughed so hard but I couldn't join them. The other woman was still in the jeep and I couldn't be that insensitive. The other passengers tried to felicitously ask the other woman whether she was hurt but I couldn't join them, because after all---I was friends with the enemy. My benefactor was left biting the dust but I couldn't join her: heck, I didn't know her and besides...I might be late for work.
I hang my head in shame for the rest of the trip never uttering another word. It was just about two kilometers but it was a very long two kilometers.
Now, when I ride the jeep, I try to pay my fare immediately before looking at the faces of the other passengers. It's a lesson well-learned.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Story of a Genuine Worker's Coop
In a meeting with coop leaders in Metro Manila ostensibly to discuss the Implementing Rules and Regulations (IRR) for the newly-minted RA 9520, otherwise known as the Philippine Cooperative Code of 2008, I happen to decry my distaste for all these pseudo-cooperatives posturing as worker's cooperatives; which where in fact, really nothing more than employment agencies.
Former senator Agapito "Butz" Aquino was in that meeting and although he left early, his secretary approached me to ask for an article in the upcoming issue of the Philippine Cooperative Center's newsletter, The COOP VOICE.
I shared a story about a cooperative which I had a hand in organizing: the Pinagkaisa at Nagkakaisang Manggagawa ng R. Hortaleza Multi-purpose Cooperative.
Here is the article:
Former senator Agapito "Butz" Aquino was in that meeting and although he left early, his secretary approached me to ask for an article in the upcoming issue of the Philippine Cooperative Center's newsletter, The COOP VOICE.
I shared a story about a cooperative which I had a hand in organizing: the Pinagkaisa at Nagkakaisang Manggagawa ng R. Hortaleza Multi-purpose Cooperative.
Here is the article:
From Crisis to Opportunity: The Story of a True Worker’s Cooperative
by Arnel Abeleda
It is the shared nightmare of the working class: reporting for work one morning and finding out that the company has closed shop. This is what happened to some 300 workers of a popular chain of beauty supply and vaciador shops one fateful morning in July, 2007. A working class nightmare they soon collectively transformed into a working class dream.
On July 1, 2007, the workers of R. Hortaleza shops suddenly found themselves out of work as all of their branches in Metro Manila, Cavite and Laguna were closed down and padlocked in the night. A paltry sign was posted in each of the shops saying the shops were closed due to bankruptcy. The two labor unions, namely the Nagkakaisang Manggagawa ng R. Hortaleza, representing the supervisory personnel and the Pinagkaisang Manggagawa ng R. Hortaleza, representing the rank-and-file personnel immediately called for a unified general assembly, filed a case at the labor department for illegal dismissal and then went on strike. It was a harrowing experience for them and prospects for the future were, at that time, certainly bleak.
The picket line was also thinning as the days went by. The workers, caught unawares either had hardly any savings or were in debt and thus had to find other sources of income in the mean time. Some of their members went back to their home provinces.
Their usual customers or ‘suki’ were also caught unawares. They brought their knives, coping saws and nail clippers to be sharpened only to find there’s a picket line outside the shops. Some enterprising vaciadors, seizing this opportunity, sharpened the objects themselves, albeit manually.
Eventually, the idea to take over the business left by their erring employer started to take root. After all, they have the requisite skills of seasoned vaciadors, they knew the suppliers and more importantly, they have earned the trust of their customers or ‘suki’ for a great number of years. All they needed was capital to get the business going.
Some money lenders were even offering to finance select shops. But they decided to manage the shops themselves. It was at that point that they toyed with the idea of forming a cooperative. A genuine worker’s cooperative that would be owned, managed and run by the members themselves. They would report for work, conduct their business and set their own salaries and incentives.
This was the genesis of the Pinagkaisa at Nagkakaisang Manggagawa ng R. Hortaleza Multi-purpose Cooperative.
Starting with a capital of twenty thousand pesos (P20,000.00) borrowed from the lifetime savings of one of their members, they bought supplies at Divisoria and started their trade. They wanted to retain the loyalty of their existing customers but could not afford the pricey rentals of their branches’ former locations so the Cooperative decided to ply their trade in less pricey locations but always at a place near their former place of business. They borrowed almost half a million pesos from various sources in order to rebuild their business in five branches---out of the total twelve branches originally---in Metro Manila and Laguna.
Running their own business, they admit is not a walk in the park. In 2008, they had to close their branch in Singalong, Manila due to poor sales. Their four remaining branches in Blumentritt (2454 Rizal Ave. ext., Sta. Cruz, Manila), Sucat (8292 PDRC Bldg., Dr. A Santos Ave., Parañaque), Alabang (354 Romicar Bldg., National Road, Alabang, Muntinlupa) and Biñan, Laguna (Kris 100, Sto. Domingo St., Biñan, Laguna) are still going strong. In fact, they have almost paid their loan obligations and are seeking to expand in other areas.
Aside from sharpening services of a vaciador, their shops also supply products for beauty parlors and they have recently ventured into production of nail files and nail pushers after getting a grant from the Department of Labor and Employment in the form a production machine. Ably headed by Board Chairperson Ms. Fe Floralde, Vice-chairperson Mr. Chito Doluntap, and Manager Mr. Denes Evasco with Ms. Cristina David as treasurer and Ms. Shirley Protacio as Secretary, this cooperative serves as a model worker’s cooperative.
So what is their trade name, you ask? It’s called “Worker’s Control Beauty Supply & Vaciador ng Bayan”.
Truly, the coop sector’s answer to the working class dream.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Remembering M/V Princess of the Stars
The MV Princess of the Stars capsized off Romblon province on June 21, 2008, exactly one year ago today. It capsized after being directly hit by Typhoon Frank. It carried at least 820 passengers. Of the total, 504 were recovered and 443 have been identified so far.
I was a passenger on the same ship less than a year before it sank. The Union of Metro Manila Cooperatives, of which I am a director, decided to hold the General Assembly of the coop union on board the ship. The general assembly will be held during the trip to and from Cebu. The overnight stay at Cebu once we disembark is our night out.
It was an offer too good to pass. And of course, I went despite stern warnings from some of my friends because a major typhoon had just passed a few days before.
My first thought upon seeing it was: "wow, this ship is humongous!" It was 7 stories high. I remember sending SMS to my friends saying the ship was so large I couldn't even feel the rocking motion of the waves. The facilities and amenities in the M/V Princess of the Stars, was to me (who's used to some rickety ships plying the Batangas Port to Mindoro route) really impressive. It had a convention cum disco area, a sun deck, karaoke rooms,play area for kids, a swimming pool and well-appointed cabins.
More than the ship itself, what I shall remember about the Prinecess is it's nice crew who accommodated our various requests during the 4 day trip/convention/assembly. Being younger than my fellow directors, I am usually left with the secretariat to help in the conduct of the assembly. I remember being green with envy as my fellow directors recount how the nice captain took them to the bridge while I was at the convention hall clicking on a laptop as a resource speaker was doing a presentation.
I may not have met the nice captain but I have met and interacted with his nice crew. And the thought that some of them may be lying on an upturned 7 story coffin off Romblon doesn't fail to leave a lump in my throat.
I pray that justice be done to the victims of the M/V Princess of the Stars. And I hope that such a tragedy never happen again.
I was a passenger on the same ship less than a year before it sank. The Union of Metro Manila Cooperatives, of which I am a director, decided to hold the General Assembly of the coop union on board the ship. The general assembly will be held during the trip to and from Cebu. The overnight stay at Cebu once we disembark is our night out.
It was an offer too good to pass. And of course, I went despite stern warnings from some of my friends because a major typhoon had just passed a few days before.
My first thought upon seeing it was: "wow, this ship is humongous!" It was 7 stories high. I remember sending SMS to my friends saying the ship was so large I couldn't even feel the rocking motion of the waves. The facilities and amenities in the M/V Princess of the Stars, was to me (who's used to some rickety ships plying the Batangas Port to Mindoro route) really impressive. It had a convention cum disco area, a sun deck, karaoke rooms,play area for kids, a swimming pool and well-appointed cabins.
More than the ship itself, what I shall remember about the Prinecess is it's nice crew who accommodated our various requests during the 4 day trip/convention/assembly. Being younger than my fellow directors, I am usually left with the secretariat to help in the conduct of the assembly. I remember being green with envy as my fellow directors recount how the nice captain took them to the bridge while I was at the convention hall clicking on a laptop as a resource speaker was doing a presentation.
I may not have met the nice captain but I have met and interacted with his nice crew. And the thought that some of them may be lying on an upturned 7 story coffin off Romblon doesn't fail to leave a lump in my throat.
I pray that justice be done to the victims of the M/V Princess of the Stars. And I hope that such a tragedy never happen again.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Sunday, May 31, 2009
The Mike Enriquez effect
I used to watch TV Patrol religiously but I became disgusted with it when the newscast featured longer and longer segments of crime or traffic accidents. When I tune in to my evening newscast, I want to watch news, dammit, not some neighborhood altercation somewhere in Metro Manila that gets to be broadcast on National TV just because some blockhead reporter hangs around police precincts too much and do not sniff out more news worthy stories.
Now, I’m starting to get incensed with GMA news, and I believe it’s because of Mike Enriquez and what he brought to the news and newscasting in general. It may be funny when an impersonator mimics Mike Enriquez in a comedy routine but alas, the real joke is on us.
Mike Enriquez doesn’t deliver the news: he shouts them. He treats his audience as if they are all hard of hearing. When somebody said he should be a hard-hittin’ newscaster, he took it to mean literally. He took it to mean aurally. Maybe one could forgive him in the beginning because his roots are from radio broadcasting, but he’s been on it for years on television and somebody should tell him to tone down his voice--- particularly his bosses from GMA 7.
Mike Enriquez also points out what is already quite apparent. He treats everyone as if they were half-blind. For instance, just before the commercials are shown, he announces that in a small hick town, a bull went rampaging inside a supermarket as caught in a CCTV camera. He says: “O, ayun, nakita ninyo mga kapuso? O, ayun o, sumugod!”. He does this every time. He interjects his inane remarks into his news spiel. Somebody should tell him: “yes, everyone can see that, now stop pointing out the obvious!”.
Mike Enriquez, as the self-styled Imbestigador ng Bayan, also struts about like he’s Zorro: the defender of the poor and the oppressed. Yes, even in the newscast wherein he features himself. We want the news, we don’t want to see your adventures (or more likely, the adventures of your staff wherein you take all the credit as you narrate).
He ceased to be the dark knight of the oppressed for me years ago when I saw in one of the segments in his program the story of a supposedly abused student. This student was apparently being sexually propositioned by a superior in his school, so what the Imbestigador did was to equip that minor with a hidden camera and set-up a sting operation. The child met with the alleged sexual molester in a motel. Only then did they call the police. So when they tried to barge into the motel with cameras and police in tow, the motel management ran interference, fearing it would sow panic in their customers.
It was several hours later when they were finally allowed to secure the child. In the end, the molester was caught, the Imbestigador had good ratings but at what price? The child was molested under their own noses. Under the sting they had poorly planned. To my mind, they were as guilty as the child molester, perhaps even more so. To my mind, Mike Enriquez is also a child molester.
Of course, now, Mike Enriquez carries the Anak-Seal TV award as one of the most admired TV newscaster of children. Ay, if they only knew.
And this is what disturbs me most about this Mike Enriquez brand of newscasting: it’s being legitimized. It’s being accepted as good newscasting even by standard award –giving bodies. Gone are the days of no-frills newscasts from my youth from the likes of Ms. Tina Monzon-Palma and Ms. Cathy Santillan. The worse is, I can sense that the newscasters even from other channels are assimilating the Mike Enriquez Style.
When I watch the evening news, I want to watch more news. Not more newscaster quirks.
Now, I’m starting to get incensed with GMA news, and I believe it’s because of Mike Enriquez and what he brought to the news and newscasting in general. It may be funny when an impersonator mimics Mike Enriquez in a comedy routine but alas, the real joke is on us.
Mike Enriquez doesn’t deliver the news: he shouts them. He treats his audience as if they are all hard of hearing. When somebody said he should be a hard-hittin’ newscaster, he took it to mean literally. He took it to mean aurally. Maybe one could forgive him in the beginning because his roots are from radio broadcasting, but he’s been on it for years on television and somebody should tell him to tone down his voice--- particularly his bosses from GMA 7.
Mike Enriquez also points out what is already quite apparent. He treats everyone as if they were half-blind. For instance, just before the commercials are shown, he announces that in a small hick town, a bull went rampaging inside a supermarket as caught in a CCTV camera. He says: “O, ayun, nakita ninyo mga kapuso? O, ayun o, sumugod!”. He does this every time. He interjects his inane remarks into his news spiel. Somebody should tell him: “yes, everyone can see that, now stop pointing out the obvious!”.
Mike Enriquez, as the self-styled Imbestigador ng Bayan, also struts about like he’s Zorro: the defender of the poor and the oppressed. Yes, even in the newscast wherein he features himself. We want the news, we don’t want to see your adventures (or more likely, the adventures of your staff wherein you take all the credit as you narrate).
He ceased to be the dark knight of the oppressed for me years ago when I saw in one of the segments in his program the story of a supposedly abused student. This student was apparently being sexually propositioned by a superior in his school, so what the Imbestigador did was to equip that minor with a hidden camera and set-up a sting operation. The child met with the alleged sexual molester in a motel. Only then did they call the police. So when they tried to barge into the motel with cameras and police in tow, the motel management ran interference, fearing it would sow panic in their customers.
It was several hours later when they were finally allowed to secure the child. In the end, the molester was caught, the Imbestigador had good ratings but at what price? The child was molested under their own noses. Under the sting they had poorly planned. To my mind, they were as guilty as the child molester, perhaps even more so. To my mind, Mike Enriquez is also a child molester.
Of course, now, Mike Enriquez carries the Anak-Seal TV award as one of the most admired TV newscaster of children. Ay, if they only knew.
And this is what disturbs me most about this Mike Enriquez brand of newscasting: it’s being legitimized. It’s being accepted as good newscasting even by standard award –giving bodies. Gone are the days of no-frills newscasts from my youth from the likes of Ms. Tina Monzon-Palma and Ms. Cathy Santillan. The worse is, I can sense that the newscasters even from other channels are assimilating the Mike Enriquez Style.
When I watch the evening news, I want to watch more news. Not more newscaster quirks.
Walang Kinikilingan, Walang Pinoprotektahan
In a recent interview, Ms. Jessica Soho, vice-president for News programs of the GMA network’s News and Public Affairs’ Department said: “…ang branding sa amin, pag GMA news kilala yan na patas, nasa gitna talaga. Totoo yan sinasabi namin eh. Wala kaming interests to protect, therefore wala kaming kinikilingan, wala kaming pinuprotektahan. Ang baduy, noh? (Laughs). Serbisyong totoo lamang. Kung merong kaming pwedeng ipagmalaki, yun”.
I can’t believe she takes that seriously. Or expects anyone else to swallow it hook, line and sinker. The operative word in her reply, I believe is “Branding”. That is how they like to fashion themselves. But of course, we know better.
I do not believe that GMA news, or any news organization for that matter, can really be that objective to state “walang kinikilingan, walang pinoprotektahan”. Even the tenets of elementary journalism and broadcasting admits that we can’t really claim pure objectivity. Our political, religious, sexual and cultural upbringing will always color the way we see and interpret things and I don’t think the reporters from GMA-7 are exempt from this. Our political socialization affords us a unique lens in which we view---or in the case of newscasters---frame the stories.
GMA news is a business and like all businesses, they, who run them would move heaven and earth to protect their own. They have an interest to perpetuate: the credibility of their own broadcast.
Also, they have a television station with a stable of stars and shows. Even a cursory look at the showbiz news the evening broadcast carries will show that it is heavily focused--- on their own stars. For instance they feature such inane segments like “Sexbomb girls (the network’s patented version of dancing vixens popularized in a noontime show) teaches children to dance”. It had no real human interest to begin with. It wasn’t as if the children were dying of terminal diseases or something. Nope.
Why on earth would they feature that? Are they trying to promote the Sexbomb Girls as some group little Filipino children could emulate? “Mama, when I grow up, I wanna be a sexbomb girl!”. Mom: “now pout your lips, gyrate and say: Awwww!” The real reason: it was because the sexbomb girls has a new season in their afternoon soap.
There’s also the Manila-centic news. You can hear about a neighborhood altercation among residents in Metro manila complete with slapping incidents inside the police stations but you don’t hear similar incidents in neighboring provinces. You hear about a motorcycle accident in Metro Manila involving one person but you don’t hear about vehicular accidents in Visayas or Mindanao unless it involves a certain threshold of fatalities preferably in the double digits. So yes, there’s bias because the bread-and-butter of GMA news derives from advertising revenues in Metro Manila so they would naturally pander to news about or in Metro Manila.
GMA also has newscasters doubling as product endorsers. One endorses a shampoo, the other a liquor brand, while some a laundry detergent and even a health supplement. Their credibility as news presentors suffer because GMA news allows this. Although I consider myself more of a GMA viewer (oh, please no “kapuso” shtick) than the other channel, I believe that the restriction on product endorsements by newscasters as imposed by ABS-CBN was a good call. Will the product endorsers report about labor disputes or labor issues in the companies whose product they espouse? How about if someone doesn’t get well from taking a health supplement that a famous newscaster endorses? If truly they have no bias, they would have to report such cases., but the question is: will they have credibility? Will the people believe in them?
There’s also the Atty. Gozon slant. Atty. Felipe Gozon (along with Mr. Gilberto Duavit, of the Duavit political clan in Rizal) owns the majority shares of the network. I feel that if a foundation wanted to have news coverage for its activities it will have to invite Atty. Gozon because there’s almost always an Atty. Gozon feature in every evening newscast. It doesn’t matter what the activity was, if they had invited Mr. Gozon to speak, that would most assuredly earn a few seconds spot on national television. Ah, what the powers-that-be at GMA news would do to suck up to their boss.
Every evening we hear “walang kinikilingan, walang pinoprotektahan, serbisyong totoo lamang” as the GMA 7 sign-off but the truth is, no matter how much they repeat this mantra, no matter how much they try to make themselves and others believe: it will never be self-fulfilling.
Because it’s patently false.
I can’t believe she takes that seriously. Or expects anyone else to swallow it hook, line and sinker. The operative word in her reply, I believe is “Branding”. That is how they like to fashion themselves. But of course, we know better.
I do not believe that GMA news, or any news organization for that matter, can really be that objective to state “walang kinikilingan, walang pinoprotektahan”. Even the tenets of elementary journalism and broadcasting admits that we can’t really claim pure objectivity. Our political, religious, sexual and cultural upbringing will always color the way we see and interpret things and I don’t think the reporters from GMA-7 are exempt from this. Our political socialization affords us a unique lens in which we view---or in the case of newscasters---frame the stories.
GMA news is a business and like all businesses, they, who run them would move heaven and earth to protect their own. They have an interest to perpetuate: the credibility of their own broadcast.
Also, they have a television station with a stable of stars and shows. Even a cursory look at the showbiz news the evening broadcast carries will show that it is heavily focused--- on their own stars. For instance they feature such inane segments like “Sexbomb girls (the network’s patented version of dancing vixens popularized in a noontime show) teaches children to dance”. It had no real human interest to begin with. It wasn’t as if the children were dying of terminal diseases or something. Nope.
Why on earth would they feature that? Are they trying to promote the Sexbomb Girls as some group little Filipino children could emulate? “Mama, when I grow up, I wanna be a sexbomb girl!”. Mom: “now pout your lips, gyrate and say: Awwww!” The real reason: it was because the sexbomb girls has a new season in their afternoon soap.
There’s also the Manila-centic news. You can hear about a neighborhood altercation among residents in Metro manila complete with slapping incidents inside the police stations but you don’t hear similar incidents in neighboring provinces. You hear about a motorcycle accident in Metro Manila involving one person but you don’t hear about vehicular accidents in Visayas or Mindanao unless it involves a certain threshold of fatalities preferably in the double digits. So yes, there’s bias because the bread-and-butter of GMA news derives from advertising revenues in Metro Manila so they would naturally pander to news about or in Metro Manila.
GMA also has newscasters doubling as product endorsers. One endorses a shampoo, the other a liquor brand, while some a laundry detergent and even a health supplement. Their credibility as news presentors suffer because GMA news allows this. Although I consider myself more of a GMA viewer (oh, please no “kapuso” shtick) than the other channel, I believe that the restriction on product endorsements by newscasters as imposed by ABS-CBN was a good call. Will the product endorsers report about labor disputes or labor issues in the companies whose product they espouse? How about if someone doesn’t get well from taking a health supplement that a famous newscaster endorses? If truly they have no bias, they would have to report such cases., but the question is: will they have credibility? Will the people believe in them?
There’s also the Atty. Gozon slant. Atty. Felipe Gozon (along with Mr. Gilberto Duavit, of the Duavit political clan in Rizal) owns the majority shares of the network. I feel that if a foundation wanted to have news coverage for its activities it will have to invite Atty. Gozon because there’s almost always an Atty. Gozon feature in every evening newscast. It doesn’t matter what the activity was, if they had invited Mr. Gozon to speak, that would most assuredly earn a few seconds spot on national television. Ah, what the powers-that-be at GMA news would do to suck up to their boss.
Every evening we hear “walang kinikilingan, walang pinoprotektahan, serbisyong totoo lamang” as the GMA 7 sign-off but the truth is, no matter how much they repeat this mantra, no matter how much they try to make themselves and others believe: it will never be self-fulfilling.
Because it’s patently false.
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