ORAGONX: THE NEW BIKOL REPUBLIK

(or what is pagkaadimuwanon?)

My friend Romy Olea, a colleague in the community journalism scene back home and who is a rare example of one who made an easy transition from the broadcast to print media, did not miss the irony on that streamer at the park thanking Mayor Madel for solving the flooding problem in the city. Last September 18, like the Biblical thief in the night, flash floods hit the city proper as well as the geographically low-lying towns of Nabua and Baao. It had been nearly a decade since this part of the Bicol river basin was submerged in water and this perhaps explain why the story found its place among national dailies and television networks beamed in the United States. The streamer may have been a sincere expression of gratitude or relief; but the sudden coming of the flood showed it to be a premature celebration. What bothered me about the streamer, however, is not that it may be seen as “papogi points” for the mayor but that it showed a wrong and misguided view about governance. It is still indicative of a traditional notion of the government as only, the institution represented by our representatives, our elected leaders, the politicians. It is of the thinking, albeit, incorrect that the government and its operation, including solving the flood problem, is best left to them. The people’s participation in the government ends after they have chosen their leaders and from that time on, it’s their leaders’ show. It is this thinking that has paved the way for much abuse among the politicians and bureaucrats, like graft and corruption; for the establishment of political dynasties and the lack of progress in our country. We leave our elected leaders to do their thing and so what we have is a government perennially engrossed in investigations on graft and corruption. Former President Estrada and COMELEC chair Abalos, are just two recent examples.

What does this got to do with flooding in Iriga? The streamer, like a Freudian slip, shows its thinking about the solution to the flooding problem. Its the mayor’s, i.e. the government’s job, alone. We may clone Mayor Madel a hundred times, but she will not solve the problem by her hundredfold self. Not without the people’s participation, which she had been pounding on the people’s mind as shown by the on-going barangay day gatherings and consultations. For the flooding problem is not only a natural hydrologic (water finds its own level) problem that can be solved outright by infrastructural solution, like dredging or canal constructions; but it is an environmental symptom that respects no geographical boundaries. It therefore calls for the involvement of all people who still live on land; that is, not only the people of Iriga, but also the people of the flood-prone areas of the Rinconada area. For it is a law of nature that whatever is done somewhere, will have an effect somewhere else. Or in the old law of physics, for every action, there is a corresponding reaction. Put in another and more concrete way, when people of Buhi cut their trees upland; either it can result in flooding or drought in the basin area. It is a chain or as Joey Ayala puts it in a song: “Ang lahat ng bagay ay magkaugnay.” That is why my PRRM colleagues had long been advocating and pushing for the revival of the old RIADEC, which can provide a forum for sharing and coming up with common solutions to our spatially-related problems. That is why, too, I believe that any government program should always factor in people’s participation, if only to draw out their sense of ownership and commitment to the program. Failing that, we will repeatedly grapple with the same problem all over again, like the recurrent flooding problem.

Yet, back to the streamer. I also think that the message on the streamer forgets an Irigueno trait which we are promoting in our character program, i.e. resourcefulness, which our colleagues in the City Character Program translated as, pagkadimuwanon. I can identify the root of the word, but I don’t have an idea of its concrete derivatives. Nevertheless, from its usage, I can see its connotation of self-reliance. This then harks us back to a very Irigueno adage: “Dios nang Dios, di nananao sa iniros.” Even God does not serve us steaming rice. Meaning, we have to rely on the sweat of our brows. We have to work ourselves and do our part (like disposing our garbage at the right place and receptacles) and not leave the work of solving the flooding alone to Mayor Madel. When we do that, then perhaps we can put up a streamer and pat ourselves in the back with words like: Mabalos Kanato, Ta Uda Na Baha Sadi Iriga.”

If we take the etymology or root word of Mapagpaonod as onod, or a tuber; then we can see a concrete example and beauty of patience and tolerance. For a tuber literally grows under the ground. It crops up beneath the stem of a plant; hence, a root crop like our native alyon, bungkukan, namo, kamote, kamoteng kawoy. Its a UG, an undergrowth. Yet, growing or going under does not mean condescension or submission. For a plant, it is its nature. For us, human beings, to go under is an act of tolerance and patience. It is an act of humility, of denying the self to give way to others; of understanding people and their differences. Imagine what a wonderful world we will have if only people have the patience and tolerance to let others, who are different from them in race, religion or rank; be themselves. Globalization, which has shrunk the world into a barrio, needs this value so much as multi-culturalism is creating inevitable and unnecessary tension among people, anywhere in the world.

Mountain climbing is one endeavor where one’s patience is tested to the limit. The Filipino pioneering climbers to Mt. Himalaya very well know this. So is the German traveller Feodor Jagor who was able to climb the summit of Mt. Iriga, after two failed attempts, in 1870. Here is the record of his triumph and the first account of a foreigner who has ever climbed the mountain:
“About six o’clock on the following morning the ascent began. After we had gone through the forest, by availing ourselves of the path which we had previously beaten, it led us through grass three or four feet in height, with keen-edged leaves; succeeded by cane, from seven to eight feet high, of the same habitat with our Arundo phragmites (but it was not in flower), which occupied the whole of the upper part of the mountain as far as the edge. Only in the ravine did the trees attain any height. The lower declivities were covered with aroids and ferns; towards the summit were tendrils and mosses; and here I found a beautiful, new, and peculiarly shaped orchid. [153] The Cimarrons had cut down some cane; and, beating down our road for ourselves with bolos, we arrived at the summit a little before ten o’clock. It was very foggy. In the hope of a clear evening or morning I caused a hut to be erected, for which purpose the cane was well fitted. The natives were too lazy to erect a lodging for themselves, or to procure wood for a watchfire. They squatted on the ground, squeezed close to one another to warm themselves, ate cold rice, and suffered thirst because none of them would fetch water. Of the two water-carriers whom I had taken with me, one had “inadvertently” upset his water on the road, and the other had thrown it away “because he thought we should not require it.”

[Altitude.] I found the highest points of the Iriga to be 1,212 meters, 1,120 meters above the surface of the Buhi Lake. From Buhi I went to Batu.” (from Reisen in den Philippinen by Feodor Jagor, Chapter XVIII)

Had Jagor given up, had he not the patience to go on, we would not have been given this record of how our mountain was like during the Castillan times. By having the patience, Jagor also proved true the adage of our forefathers: “Sa paturo-turo, malulubot a bato.”