THE POLITICS OF CALBAYOG Many people of my generation (and those of earlier ones) are asking...What happened to Calbayog politics? Virtually growing up in Calbayog almost every summer (school) vacation, election time in old Calbayog was really fun time! One heard a candidate lambasting another...and maybe making satire of a political incumbents performance. But then it seldom led to any violent confrontation. I dont know if some criminality were then connected to elections then...maybe...but it was not apparent to me then. My mother told me of a time when once our ancestral house was shot up by unknown gunmen during the time of Pres. Quirino and Tito Peping was still new Mayor of Calbayog. That was before my time...I do not know. But all my experiences in old Calbayog is that candidate or not...people had fun...just like fiesta...dancing, drinking, joking....even among people locked in mortal political duels. When did that all change?? I think Marshall Law changed that spirit of camaraderie among politicos of old Calbayog. Well, not everybody agreed with then Pres. Ferdinand Marcos and were unceremoniously booted out of power and authority. Another factor could had been the rise of influence of the military in executing the anti-insurgency campaign of the national government then. Absolute power given to the military when it comes to stamping out NPA and other rebels then certainly got into the heads of many members of the military. And at the onset of Marshall Law, many political, elective positions were handed out to Marcos supporters and the militarys civilian subalterns. This led to possible an arms race and political killings rose and expanded. Sometime ago and already connected with TRC-LIVEHOOD-BLISS II PROGRAM, I had a rare glimpse of possible insight into the political violence that has taken root in our province. Mang Val, our Elder-man, and I just came into Cebu from Dipolog to meet our Program Director, Sylvia Munoz(-Ordonez now) and main audit team from Manila. We all converged in Tacloban in order to proceed to our Ipil-Ipil Plantation site in the area of the Samar National Agricultural School on Buenavista II (?), San Jorge. In Tacloban, I accompanied Mang Val who met up with some military guys who assured him that we clearance to go up. After that we visited a radio station and talked to someone who appeared to me as a Radio Announcer. He too said that we have safe passage to go to SNAS. Perplexed, I asked Mang Val...what was that for? And he curtly answered--its for the other side...Oh!! We all took a commercial mini-bus going to San Jorge and going down at the unpaved road leading to Buenavista I (I think). A passenger Jeepney was waiting for us at that junction to take us in. And in was a river shore punctuated by some huts and sari-sari stores. Balsas or bamboo rafts were already on standby for our river crossing and we boarded it as fast as we can. While moving along, I noticed a watch tower where a soldier on top was eyeballing us at the same time he fumbling with his radio. Then our Jeepney driver waved at the seemingly disturbed soldier which made the latter stand down and relax...and simply extended to us his left hand...maybe as if saying...its your funeral, boys and girls!. At the other side of the river, we were met by a rugged group of very young boys and girls with Carabao sleds in tow. One boy could not had been more than 11 years old and the Armalite slung on his shoulder was definitely much taller than he was. All our bags and luggage were put on the sled and we started the steep trek towards the SNAS compound. And there it was...SNAS and our Ipil Ipil plantation...some growing well...some not well...and, for the most part, I think tree seedlings were overtaken by taller talahibs....Reports filtering to our Manila Office spoke of multitudes of implementation problems that I do not care to bore you with. But its the main reason why we were there.....Whats up, Superintendent Ruiz? But first..dinner. As the latest addition to the BLISS II group, no one in our group bothered to find out what was my middle name...whats that R. in the middle?? To them, I was a Batangueno from Taal...my family name says so. During dinner, Mr. Ruiz started his monologue about events that happened before we came in. I noticed my two Bosses more busy with eating than listening...not really a good sign for the speaker. Mang Val had been teaching me how to walk through an agricultural or agri-business project before any discussion begins about status reports. Eye-balling the tree-nursery farm was enough indication that things were not going well for SNAS. Then suddenly two guys sat in with us....sight of whom made me stare at them....and the two men apparently made effort to look away from me. Sylvia noticed that and gave me an inquisitive look. She used to be a leftist activist identified with Horacio Boy Morales before becoming a government functionary. Dinner went on with the soliloquy of the project head in SNAS. But I too was not listening then...my mind wondered off to U.P. Diliman when I saw a classmate and acquaintance being accosted by the Metrocom and taken to wherever during the Diliman Commune. That was one of our guests. The other one was also a classmate and a hard core member of the KM then. Both had dinner with us. After dinner, Sylvia pulled Mr. Ruiz from the group for a very private chat. I walked away from Mang Val and others who did not smoke and did not like the smell of it. After lighting up near a tree, I noticed the two guests following me. So, I pulled out my pack of smokes and began offering them. Musta na Bing?...said one. Eto, I replied, still trying to do things my way. Kayo? I asked. Transients lang kami dito...naki-kain lang. As he got a stick of cigaret, I asked him about his father who suffered a stroke once he got news of his arrest. I was one of his remaining friends who helped attend to his fathers needs in the hospital. They are originally from Tacloban with a house inside U.P. Diliman because his father worked there. We belonged to the same study group, including the other guy, that often met in that house. He told me his father was doing well and was back to work. The two guys knew my background and where my mother comes from....They know what the R in my middle name means. But after a long nice chat reminiscing our student days...they bade me goodbye...and also said...Huwag ka na munang bumisita sa inyo..alam mo na.... I did not realize that both Sylvia and Mang Val were observing us from afar. And when I finally joined them..she just asked me friends?...I answered former classmates...Ah, any problem? I said no...And she said Good...they are also leaving tonight. And I said Ok. The next day was terrific work digging through project files...trying to find out where funds were spent on and numbers to indicate work/output status. Our female accountants were so tired that they literally dropped onto their beds...us guys stayed on for a bottle or two of beer. Suddenly....we detect a group of heavily armed men steadily approaching us in our hut. What gives? I thought...no one has said anything bad about the project...or is this a form of warning...stop probing, meddling?? But when they arrived...one of them pulled out a guitar from his back...and said...Magandang gabi, po. Andiyan na po ba si Doris? Gusto po sana namin siyang haranahin. Oh gosh...I had to bite my tongue to avoid laughing...and just announced them...I shouted Doris!....Doris! a loud response, audibly irritated came from inside the hut...Po! Sandali lang po..And Doris peeped from the window. And Doris chinky eyes popped open at the sight of heavily armed, grenades hanging from breasts. Her voice became soft and malambing..po... Nagpapaalam sila kung pwede ka nila dao haranahin. Doris momentarily stared at me...Po?...but immediately recovered...Aba opo!! The following day was more hilarious. Little did I know that my mother asked my wife about when am I to return from Dipolog. My wife then responded that my return was postponed because I was told to go to SNAS in San Jorge. Wow!! My mother went ballistic and immediately called up my aunt Ely Garcia in Calbayog and instructed her to immediately pull me out of it. And while I was busy reading status reports, Tita Ely was in the area of huts and sari-sari stores in Buenavista I looking for me...Nakita ka kan Bing...eton umangcon ni Minister Rono...patay! But this story was only told to me after I got to Manila the very next day. I believed that Sylvia told Mang Val to take me out. I could had been too mysterious for her liking. SHe too spent sometime underground right after Marshall Law was declared. Then a dress down from the Boss after several days...So..I should start calling you Bing.. I said...I think its you who started calling me Robert. With dagger looks she said..Why didnt you tell us that you are the nephew of Min. Rono...you could have gotten us all killed! Those two classmates from U.P., did they know?...I replied, Yes. And she proclaimed...From this day on...you will never be assigned to Samar and Leyte..is that clear?...Yes, Mam! On hindsight, I never saw so many guns in Samar or Leyte before. And never felt so strong animosities among people there before. And much later on, I read about a big Military-NPA encounter in Calbayog near the boundary of Sta. Margarita on the day my two friends from U.P. left. News reports had it that the NPA controlled Sta. Margarita, had their own check points there, and flew their own flags. It was a time when several howitzer canons were positioned near our plaza fronting the church pointing to the direction of 7 Hills and anticipating a massive attack from NPAs. People said that those guns, at that time, fired regularly...on the hour.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Mar 2014 03:43:58 +0000