TALES FROM THE DAYS OF QUARANTINE 1: THOSE DELIVERY BOYS

 First and foremost, let me get this straight.

Times are hard. And as if I had to remind anyone on this planet living in the year 2020 about it.  Jobs are scarce and even the few ones left are slowly diminishing.  

All it took is a little over four months in this country and businesses have gone kaput.  Rentals continue but there is no money coming in.  Malls that used to be the mammon of commerce have literally turned into caverns so much so that when you talk, you hear an echo (and considering that you are still wearing a mask and a face shield while delivering the utterance).

So because times are hard and nobody prefers to go out of their houses unless necessary, other businesses boomed while others were doomed.  The delivery service is one of them: all these zigzagging weaving men in helmets riding their motorbikes in almost every street in the Metro since the strict lockdowns were implemented.

Well, why not?  The whole idea of commerce has been completely reconstituted with the boom of online sellers peddling everything from industrial quality chainsaws to kakanins like biko, pichi-pichi and kutsinta following Lola's secret recipe.  While disenfranchised workers have resorted to feats of resourcefulness (or survival) --- to selling everything from succulents in pots to kare-kare, lugaw na may tuwalya at bituka, or bopis, the need for the delivery boys is but imminent.  Whether you pay COD or through GCash or bank transfer, you still need Kuya Delivery Boy to bring the goodies right to your doorstep.

And since the quarantine I have practically bought everything edible and imaginable from Facebook Market.

I have ordered the entire spectrum of longganisas produced in the 7000 islands called the Republic of the Philippines.  Whether it is from Vigan, Lucban, Alaminos, Pampanga, Cabanatuan, Cebu, Davao ... name it, I have bought it.  Then there are all sorts of Keto conditioned peanut butter, cheese spreads ... pati na nga tenderloin, ground beef, bacon, chili sauce, four kinds of local vinegar.  Oh, not to mention the air plants, succulents, snake plants ... and my challenging purchase, a four-tiered pinewood plant holder na bitbit ni Kuya Delivery all the way from Imus, Cavite.

Part of the many great lessons I received from these past four months plus-plus is that all these online purchases have completely changed the way we are doing commerce.

In the Age of Social Distancing, the malls will remain like hollow caves where disturbing silence has replaced the cacophony of shoppers or even the sound of credit cards being swiped at the Cashier's counter.  Instead, you get these Delivery Boys who can provide you with enough challenge and sense of adventure and an understanding of the human condition.

Before anything else, there are certain points that should be established.

(1) Hindi madali ang trabaho ni Kuya Delivery Boy.  I do not know exactly how much they earn ... or what manner by which their daily take-home is computed but spending your entire day criss-crossing the cities at a time when exposure to people --- all kinds of people --- can be dangerous because of the pandemic, these guys must endure a lot to keep their wits about and focus on their driving.

(2) Kung sinu-sino ang nakakasalamuha nila. Whether they are the sellers or the customers, Kuya Delivery exposes himself to a great variety of people and they, in turn, are exposed to all sorts of possible conditions.  I feel somewhat queasy having to wear a mask each time I step out of the house and meet Kuya to receive the parcel but then that is part of the protocol.  You assume that he is a virus-carrier inasmuch as he assumes the same with me.  

(3) Hindi ito career, trabaho ito na dala ng masidhing pangangailangan. This is self-explanatory.  Considering the number of businesses that have closed down ... or if they remained open, the level of downsizing that has taken place --- doing a delivery job is not a step down the ladder.  It is keeping your head above the water.  I know of a lot of men (and women) who have joined the delivery service because they need jobs and it looks like there is no light at the end of any tunnel to provide better alternatives in the near future.  Besides, what is really wrong with delivery work? It is an honest job ... and that is all that matters. It provides food on the table.

But ...

There is an entire gamut of experience one gets with Kuya Delivery. I have tried to figure out what it is but (in all honesty) dealing with some of them can be an ultimate test of patience and understanding.  Di nga ba? Times are hard. Kaya let us be a little bit more pasensiyoso and try to understand that theirs is a more stressful situation that for us, the customers, who are just sitting on our derrieres waiting for the deliveries

Yet despite all these considerations, there are still these most trying moments in which you have to simply bite your lower lip as you try to deal with Kuya Driver.  It is not like each and everyone of them was sent to you to pay for some karma.  Some are very good, very smart, very sharp and very polite.  Some even strike an interesting conversation. And then there are the others.  

To make things clearer, here are some scenarios.  These are snatches of conversations over the cellphone when Kuya Driver either sends you a text message or makes a call.

CASE STUDY 1:

ME:            Hello?

KUYA:        S'an ba papunta diyan sa inyo?

ME:             HA?  Sino 'to?

KUYA:        Yung delivery. Taga-_____! S'an ba dadaan papunta dyan, ha?

(Teka, wala kang GPS, Kuya?  Gawain ba akong WAZE?)

ME:        Saan ka ba?

KUYA:   Nandito pa sa Ilaya.

(Gusto mong bigyan kita ng directions from Ilaya to Alabang?!)

Or what about this scenario?

CASE STUDY 2:

KUYA:     Sir, ikaw ba si Joey?

ME:         Ako nga. Who is this please?

KUYA:     Sir Joey, ako po si _____. Yung pipick-up ng binili nyo.

ME:         Ah, OK. May problema?

KUYA:    Sir, ano po ba yung binili nyo?

ME:         Ha?  Bakit? Tela.  Pang-kurtina.

KUYA:    Sir, marami ba?

ME:        (Sincerely confused now) Bakit?

KUYA:    Baka po kasi malaki, hindi magkasiya sa box ko. At saka baka mabigat.

ME:        Twelve yards ang total.

KUYA:    Naku, mahaba yon.

ME:       (Internally cursing) Nakatiklop yon!  Hindi naman ibibigay sa iyo yon na nakaladlad, ano?

Okay,  What about this one?  Again, in my fascination for bed sheets this time. 

CASE STUDY 3:

KUYA:    Sir ... may problema. Saan ba dito yung tindahan?

( Para naman kasing alam ko ang exact location niya sa Planet Earth at para ring alam ko ang pasikot-sikot ng Divisoria!)

ME:        Saan ka na ba?

KUYA:    Dito na sa Ilaya.  Saan ba dito?

ME:         Hanapin mo yung (name of store) diyan ...

KUYA:     Saang pasilyo?

( At this point, humahagulgol na ako sa galit, awa sa sarili at higit sa lahat sa tukso ng tadhana dahil gusto ko lang naman bumili ng tela for bedsheets.)\

Or what about this?

CASE STUDY 4:

ME:    Hello?

KUYA:        Nandito na ako sa labas ng village ... Ano nga ang address mo?

(Exasperated pero pa-cool pa rin.)

ME:        (Gives the address)

KUYA:    Ano ang number?  31?

ME:        Hindi.  21.

KUYA:    Ano nga ang pangalan mo?

Gano'n ang pagkatanong, ha?  Gan'on ka barubal?  As if kainuman ko siya ng Red Horse noong binyag ng kanyang anak kung saan ako ang ninong.

Okey, here is another:

CASE STUDY 5:

I was in my work room, writing when my phone rings.

ME:        Hello?

KUYA:   Sir, nandito na po ako outside.

ME:        OK . I-ring mo yung doorbell.

KUYA:    Saan yung doorbell?

ME:         Eh, di sa may door! Alangan naman sa bubungan!

or a corollary to the same scenario.

ME:        Hello ...

KUYA:   _____ po ito.  Nasa labas na po ako ng bahay nyo.

ME:       Ah, OK.  Sandali ...

KUYA:   May tao ba diyan?

(A moment of silence.)

ME:        Wala.  Kausap mo ang aking kaluluwa.

But this really bakes the proverbial cake.

CASE STUDY 6:

I was standing outside my house because Kuya messaged me that he was already outside my residence but he was not there.

He sends me a text message stating that he could not find the number of my house. So I texted back.

After around then minutes, Kuya arrived feeling exceptionally grouchy.

So I asked.

ME:        Bakit ka naligaw?

(And he answers me in a not so pleasant tone of voice.)

KUYA:     Ang labo naman nitong tirahan ninyo.  Ang hirap hanapin ng mga numbers.  Sabi mo 31 ... umabot ako hanggang dulo, hanggang 72 .... wala namang 31 ... may 32, 34 ...

( Hindi na po ako nakapigil.)

ME:       Eh, kasi nakatingin ka sa kanan ... eh, lahat ng odd numbers nasa kaliwa. Hindi mo talaga mahahanap yung number ng bahay ko.

KUYA:  Kahit na. Ang gulo pa rin.

ME:      Halika. Puntahan natin ang Village Manager. Gusto mong mag-complain?

Then finally this.

CASE STUDY 6:

I open the front door and Kuya's eyes lighten up.

KUYA:     Ay, Direk!!!  Ikaw pala yan, Direk!

ME:          (Smiling)  Ako nga.

KUYA:     Direk, fan po ako. Galing mo talaga, Direk.

ME:          Thank you.

KUYA:      Ano nga uli ang pangalan mo?

ME:          (Controlled pa naman) Direk Joey!

KUYA:     Sabi na nga ba, eh. Direk Joey LAMANGAN!

I rest my case.

THE PITY CARD

 Actually we should already be used to it.  The so-called Pity Card.

Every other time somebody of prominence or warranting media value is caught red handed with his or her shenanigans, he or she deals out her pity card.

What is the Pity Card?  Oh, bring out the wheelchair.  Look shriveled, disheveled, discombobulated.  Flash those tearful eyes for the cameras to see and for the public to consume.  In other words, go for public sympathy by feigning failing health ... or let's try the utang na loob trope by making people feel guilty that they are treating you so badly whereas you only wanted to help or you were trying your very best.

It is all about pricking the Filipino's preoccupation for konsiyensiya. Going hand in hand with that is pagpapatawad or the more casual hayaan mo na lang or a choice between Ipaubaya mo na kay Lord or Bahala na si Batman.

Well, reality check:  Sobrang busy na ni Lord sa dami ng problema ng mundo to pay attention to just another textbook corrupt/ambitious/careless/stupid official who has bungled it up and get caught with his or her hands in the cookie jar.  Or worse, Bruce Wayne has also been badly hit by the pandemic to give an eff about the consequences of our unconditional capacity to forgive.

Isa pa yan. I am sorry (said better than the last time those three words were spoken while addressing the nation after --- again --- getting caught) but I am not a fan of the whole forgive and forget kind of philosophy.  Sige, I will forgive you but do you think I will forget?  Will I ever shove the very thought that you tried or even ripped me off, lied to my face and given me all the reasons to lose all my trust in you?  Fat chance.

And please don't give me that sort of crap reminding me that even the Lord Jesus was able to forgive ... and how can I be so tough, mean and unrelenting?  I agree but you see Christ was the Son of God and I am not: I grew up in Pasay City, learned my street smarts in F.B. Harrison Street and Libertad.  How can I just forgive and ... oh, yes, move on ... when there is no closure to whatever wrongdoing has been done not only to me but to a lot of people? Even the whole nation?  

That, I believe, is not being Christian-like.  That is called being an imbecile.

Fool me once: shame on you.  Fool me twice: shame on me.  Fool me three times --- and I have no shame.

You can only forgive someone who has actually repented for his/her wrongdoing/shortcomings ... not someone who merely says so.  

The three words I am sorry is as cheap as I love you nowadays: they cannot be vouched for sincerity especially when muttered post-0rgasm.  

Or worse are those who are not even sorry at all, stricken by such epic proportions of pride to think that they do not owe anyone any apologies because they sincerely believe they have done nothing wrong.  And you ask me to forgive and forget and to move on?  

I cannot stand the Pity Card but I understand why it is so mabenta with Pinoys.

What with our love for telenovelas where the inaapi is the trump card of the bida and pagtitiis and pagmamalasakit are the pre-requisites to greatness?

Undeniably, we love the sight of people suffering because it makes us feel good to feel so kind.  There is almost an act of redemption on our parts every time we are nagpapatawad because it boosts the assumed nobility in our spirit as well as the plus points we earn in the scoreboard in heaven.  But it cannot and should not be that reductive.

I cringe each time some manipulative public figure  goes in front of the cameras in a foray of interviews using that pakawawa and pahumble look with matching nagigilid ang luha sa mga mata to plead for his or her case.  I almost find it laughable each time somebody accused of a crime or misdemeanor suddenly announces (complete with drumroll) that he or she is actually very ill, on the verge of death or only has a few days to live.

"Ladies and gentlemen ... may cancer po siya."

(Gasp! Goes the audience.  Karma, screams others.  Kawawa naman siya, muttered a number ang T--g ina mo! exclaimed an even bigger number.)

Roll out the wheelchairs, Folks.  Wheelchairs have not only become the accessories of the invalid ... but the mode of transportation of the cancelled.

How convenient it is to be rolled out in front of photographers, looking limp as an overcooked frankfurter on a wheelchair (perhaps attached to some medical contraption like a dextrose bottle) and to be caught in a crossfire of video cameras for the world to see. Kawawa naman me is the subtitle right under this deliberately pathetic image of a man who just happened to have stolen millions and billions. 

And with this fleeting image, our conscience has again be challenged to the limits of our Catholic conditioning. How heartless can we be indicting a man suffering, fighting for his life ... and perhaps clinging onto his last days on earth?  How can we even think ill of somebody all suffering ... to make him suffer all the more by our accusations, our vindications?

How can we even demand justice when justice is already served by a seeming punishment sent by the Lord?  Or so we are made to believe.  Or so we are conditioned to respond in a typical mapagpatawad and maka-Diyos na Filipino.

One thing about being Pinoy is that we have the span of memory of a mayfly.

Regardless of how ngitngit we are with  indignation, bring in the next scandal ... and we conveniently shove aside to the back burner and then eventually the dirty kitchen together with all the issues we deemed as so important because of the vulgarity of corruption and media manipulation.  And regardless of how mad we are at the moment, the next diversion will provide us enough reason to go into our self-inflicted amnesia and move on to the next highlight of the media circus.

In the meantime, it is our addiction to the martyrs of the world, all the suffering Pinoy telenovela heroines who equate nobility and greatness with resilience, patience, tolerance ... and yes, subservience.  We equate suffering with the key to the Kingdom of God ... inasmuch as our preoccupation of Romantic Agony almost makes us attracted to masochism.

So regardless of closure or demand for retribution, we simply shrug and say, Ipaubaya na natin kay Lord or Makakarma rin siya or worse, Bahala na si Bruce Wayne. That way we feel ennobled. Or maybe just forgetful, dismissive, defensively apathetic.

We love exercising pity because it makes us feel so good even if the whole point of the exercise is to make us all look stupid.

I am sorry.

I cannot take pity on anybody who I know is bullshitting me or swindling the nation ... regardless of alleged failing conditions of health or capacity to cry on cue in front of the TV camera.  I mean, that is so predictable: to cry sick ... or simply to cry when you can't get out of the hole you found yourself entrapped.

I still prefer justice, retribution and/or dismissal.

Postscript:

When issues have either been resolved or forgotten, by some miracle from the heavens, the afflicted individual suddenly becomes cured --- and the crying ladies go back to shaking their booties and partying.  It is much easier for them to move on --- especially if they made idiots out of all of us forgiving God-fearing people.

THE DAY OF THE OSTRICH

Putragis, I tell you!

What's happening to the Philippines ba, OK?

Just a few days ago, desperately trying to beat the rush of the MECQ when I am still allowed to take my thirty minute senior citizen walk around my gated village (Emphasis on GATED) for reasons of health and Vitamin D (Emphasis on HEALTH), I tell you ... I saw a squirrel.

Whatda---?! May squirrel?!  In Cupang, Muntinlupa?

I thought these rodents only existed where chestnuts roast in the open fire and where Jack Frost nips you at the nose.  

My mistake.  

A rat is a rat is a rat, bushy tailed or not.  They do not require four seasons.  When I told one of my friends about this, she who thinks that wearing Gap is beneath her stature said, "Really?  There are squirrels in ... Muntinlupa? I always thought they can only be found in Forbes Park."

Ah, there.  Theory explained.  Squirrels can only live in the tropics if they are in GATED villages. 

In other words, it is almost close to impossible to find squirrels in say ... Kamuning or Malibay or Cubao.  Kasi nga there are not much trees in those places not to mention that Kamuning is a hot spot for COVID19 and not that squirrels are susceptible to the buwisit na virus.  

Or are they?  I am not sure with my limited nine units of Science in college if bats also belong to the rodent family.  But then again, bats still look rats with wings, right? Whatever. Hintayin ko na lang yung vaccine from China before I theorize again.

Which leads me to the point that made me return to blogging after more than a month.

Today, the fourth of August 2020, is an extraordinary day.  

And I am not even taking into consideration the DOH-certified fact that --- wow, oh, wow --- we have more than six thousand three hundred newly record COVID19 cases just this day alone. Iba talaga tayo. Humanda ka, India. Top grosser na kami sa Southeast Asia ... but we will not be happy with just that trivial regional record.  We dream of being the top of the list when it comes to all the nations and even continents East of Trumpland.  Putsa, Pinoy Pride, Dude.  Today Asia, tomorrow the world.

While Thailand and Vietnam are back to enjoying their Tom Yum and Pho Hoa, we Pinoys are busy panic buying as we revert to MECQ as if the day after tomorrow is the end of the world or the series Probinsiyano.  It is as if we never experienced MECQ to realize that groceries and palengkes will not close ... and that the color of money will still be the same two weeks later.  Pero, we Pinoys make panicking a national past time, di ba?

And I am not also thinking of the latest scandal involving PhilHealth or why I need to convince some of my friends of a different partisan persuasion that dipping their disposable face masks in a can of gasoline will not make them reusable. I had to subtly, carefully and politically correctly tell them that even if an unleaded gasoline soaked face mask can certain keep the COVID away, wearing one for more than five minutes and sniffing all that petrol may provide another route to bring them back to the waiting arms of Jesus.  And please keep away for more than one meter from anyone who is lighting a cigarette, ha?

So what makes today exciting and extraordinary.

Because an ostrich made such a fuss among the netizens. 

That Big Bird got more publicity and attention than the return of the Queen of All Media to television or the travails of  Liza Dino in the FDCP.  Can you imagine that?  

You know that times are really weird when people are more excited about this giant bird running down the streets of a Quezon City subdivision (read: GATED VILLAGE) and creating such a havoc in the internet than the number of pandemic victims in the country ... or that she is finally returning to television with her own TV show after almost four years of absence.  What's wrong with us people, ha?

I mean ... onli in da Pilipins, right?  

Only here in our beloved republic do we have people actually keeping this ... exotic bird as a pet.  Right in the heart of the city. 

Said owner could have kept ducks, geese, fighting cocks, love birds, parrots ... but they had to have the ostrich.  I am still figuring out why: of course anyone can claim an ostrich as a pet but in a middle class village in the City of Stars?  Alam ba ito ni Joy Belmonte?

 And I dare ask, did the neighbors known that next door ... somebody is actually keeping these giant birds as pets?

"Mama, Mama ... ano yung ulo na sumisilip sa bakod ng neighbor natin?"

"Nakasampa sa bakod?"

"Hindi. Sumisilip lang ... malaki ang mata, mahaba ang leeg, kalbo."

"Ha?"

"Oo, Mama ... malaki ang mga mata at mahaba ang leeg at  ..."

"Anak,  tapatin mo nga ako. Grade Three ka pa lang ... ano na ang tinitira mo?  Bigay ba sa yo ng iyong Kuya?"

What I found extremely exciting were the videos of that poor creature running down the otherwise everyday street and with people literally freaking out at the mere sight of the unimaginable coming to life.  

I mean how would you feel if you are plantito watering your plants and an ostrich passed by?

"Mama, Mama ... may malaking ibon sa labas!"

"Lintek na! Bakit ka tumingin?!  Ang bata-bata mo pa kung anu-ano nang kabastusan ang nakikita mo."

Like that.

Or even that classic line overheard in the actual video: "Hindi naman lumilipad ang ibon na yan, di ba?"

'Teh, pag lumipad yan ... End of Days na talaga. Pramis.

Of course the more au courant expressed such fashionable shock upon sight of the video by saying, "Somebody played Jumanji." 

And the less informed retorted: "Jumanji? What dat? Kasama si Kim Chiu?"

But the more knee jerk reaction from the Everyday Folk goes, " T--g ina!  Ang laki! Puwede bang iadobo yan?" 

Somehow after four months of quarantine, you no longer know what is real.  

You suffer from a variation of the Stockholm Syndrome even if you are staying in a Gated Village to think that you are seeing African Wild birds traversing down Tomas Morato to order a cup of Starbucks.

So we had out excitement for the day.  The best part of that whole trope was when the Ostrich reached the guard house of the gated village and the security put down the barrier to stop the creature from exiting kasi wala raw ID.

We all imagined the dialogue taking place as this was happening.

GUARD:  'Day, quarantine pass mo?

BIRD:  Ay, sorry, Kuya ... naiwan ko sa balai.

As the bird nervously turned around to trace back his beleaguered path home.

Onli in da Pilipins, I tell you.

PS:  Later on, the Big Bird was wrestled down to a hammer lock by two of the Kagawads.  Yup, the humans won.

 

DAY 105: MECQ

There is that saying that goes: The road to hell is lined with good intentions.  That is assuming that the intentions are really for the good of a greater number and not that of the one who drew the map.

The Other Side of the Pandemic

Perhaps as bad as the growing number of deaths brought about by this pandemic is the economic meltdown that the world is experiencing.  The dead are buried but the survivors live with the burden of a planet that has gone completely upside down.  Businesses are collapsing: governments are scrambling to find ways and means to bring the economy back to life or try to resuscitate what is left of the commercial debris.

A recent survey in the country showed that the workers of the Arts and Entertainment are the most badly hit by the closure of work resulting from COVID19.

Understandably so.  

For more than three months, work in the film, television and the rest of the entertainment industry came to a sudden halt as a precaution against the spread of the dreaded virus. There is something unique about this industry because it requires crowds.  You need more than a hundred people for a single day of shooting a film, perhaps even more for taping an episode of a prime time telenovela.  You need as many folks on the set to shoot a TV commercial or a digital content material --- maybe a little less but still a lot to mount a concert or stage play.  

And God knows how many people are needed for a live event to launch a product, celebrate a company anniversary or hold a convention. 
Needless to add, you even need more people to fill a cinema, a theater, a concert venue or the SMEX or the MOA Auditorium or wherever it is you choose to hold your concert.

All that froze mid-March because being with strangers had become dangerous. Not only dangerous --- but life threatening.

Literally thousands of people lost their work and have not gone back to the set despite the loosening of the quarantine rules because everything is still touch and go.  Everyone is waiting to see if things will go right or what can go wrong. The question remains: "Safe na ba to go back to work?"

Well, the question is not only that. The answer is people need to go back to work despite the clear and present risks involved. Hindi pa talagang safe ... but we have to make it as safe as possible.

Yes, we have to deal with the New Normal: the working conditions in mid-2020 has become so completely different from that of the first quarter of the year.  To insure the safety of all workers concerned, protocols have to be studied, agreed upon and eventually implemented not only on the set but especially in the preparation for productions. 

And this costs money.

As it is, producers and film workers are fighting against time to find the most plausible way to get back on the set despite the fact that it is still not sure when cinemas will be allowed to open ... or if people will have the courage to immediately return to movie houses even if there is social distancing but with no vaccine discovered.

TV shows need to return to the studios with strict new rules in place to make sure that everyone is guaranteed a plausible amount of health security.  

More than ever, the film studios as well as the production houses, the freelance workers whose very lifeline is the availability of projects and all the technicians who constitute the film and tv industries need the help of the government to be able to get their acts together.  At this point, the industry does not --- I repeat --- does not and should not be burdened by needless obstacles in its fight for survival.  

The Inter Guild Alliance

Because of the pressure of having to come up with guidelines for the Return to Work Scenario, the active workers of the industry --- they who have become the new generation of creative workers of both commercial and independent film making --- got together to form the Inter Guild Alliance (IGA). The sole purpose was to set down the procedures and rules to standardize safety measures on the sets of film, tv and commercials.  

The creation of the group was organic --- because the industry workers decided that they should be the ones to move in order to give momentum to the return of productions. If there was one good thing that the pandemic brought to the industry, then it was giving an opportunity for this generation of film artists and technicians to unite, talk and share a commonness of purpose and hopefully of vision and goal.

The IGA belabored its own set of protocols focusing on their individual specializations.  

That is, production designers made their own rules, cinematographers set their own standards, assistant directors, editors, directors and sound engineers worked on their own protocols then got together to revise and adapt to each other's needs.

While the protocols were being formulated, the IGA together with the Philippine Motion Pictures Producers Association (PMPPA) met to further refine and exchange ideas about how to make the IGA Protocol workable within the constraints of production budgets. This made a lot of sense: the producers were the money bags and it was from their coffers that projects are conceived and born.

The producers and the IGA came to a mutual agreement: what the workers suggested, the producers wanted.  

The IGA Protocol is the industry standard. This is because it was crafted by the industry workers for the well-being of those in the industry.

At this point, it was made very clear that while the IGA was finalizing the protocol, the PMPPA already threw in its support stating that this will be the guide followed by movie producers when shootings resume within the COVID19 quarantine period.

Television networks have already put together their own guidelines for the resumption of taping.  This is because the demands of a tv taping is very different from that of a movie shooting.

Commercial productions also have also assembled their own protocol for the making of digital content and other endeavors.

Then came this thing called the FDCP.  

The FDCP Factor

Aware that the IGA was already assembling its protocol because of their earlier talks, the Film Development Council of the Philippines (FDCP) carried out its own independent plans.  

After having met with representative workers in a number of sessions, this office drew up its own protocols then announced that this should be the guidelines to be followed. 

This announcement pre-empted the release of the guidelines still being fine tuned by the IGA. 

The release of the office's protocols days before the scheduled publication of the IGA counterpart left a very bad taste in the mouth considering that the IGA was in contact with the FDCP.

The premature announcement generated tension between the industry and the office that is meant to support film productions because there was an apparent clash of interests.  

Whereas everybody threw in their support for the IGA Document, FDCP insisted --- by virtue of its government affiliation --- that they should be the ones to be followed and nobody else. 

An open line of communication remained between all parties concerned with the PMPPA insisting that the more realistic and effective protocols were the ones prepared by the actual workers of the industry and not those prescribed by a government office with possibly little experience in on-the-set situations and problems.  Such information can never be acquired through the so-called token consultations much less by synthesizing protocols from the U.S., Europe and other Asian countries.

The PMPPA reiterated: it was following the IGA procedures and not that issued by the FDCP.

It was the insistence of FDCP that they should be ones followed that generated further aggravation and distrust from the part of the industry with that office. Despite all requests for reconsideration, the FDCP held its ground and reminded everyone that their protocol was the officially recognized procedure by the government.

Without any further consultation or communication, FDCP linked with the Department of Health (DOH) and Department of Labor (DOLE) to come up with a Joint Order Agreement (JOA) emphasizing the FDCP protocol as the one and only official guideline for the back to work procedure not only for films but for the audio visual industry.

The same protocol was to be followed by movies, television, live concerts and events, commercial shoots and even theater.  

Anyone who has any familiarity with these platforms would know that there is no way you can use the safety procedures for films with that of theater ... more so with a concert.  But then that was only one of the rather laughable matters that made people not take this hastily put together regulation seriously.

The final pint of fuel to agitate the fire was the release of the FDCP Advisory 06 late Sunday afternoon.

The advisory was directed to everyone.  The Advisory reminded all sectors that they are now answerable to FDCP and that all productions must register their projects with their office seven days before actual shooting. 

This even includes events and productions without audiences or even panel discussions recorded and posted in social media platforms. Does that mean that even Facebook Live panel discussions and vloggers must line up outside their offices to register their proposed broadcasts? Wow, ha?

All these are said to be done in the name of insuring the safety of the workers, so it is said.  But as to why every media activity should be logged in an office like the FDCP is one of the great mysteries of the twenty-first century comparable to the puzzle of the Bermuda Triangle.

The bonfire of vanities has been lit and the fire reached out to the sky by Sunday evening.

How will this work out if the networks already have set their own safety policies and procedures, the commercial productions have already designed their own set of rules and the movie studios were endorsing the IGA's work? 

What came about was more confusion as to who follows what.  This is the last problem people wanted because they would rather focus on going back to work than wondering which rules to follow.

The Questions

Returning to the first statement of this blog, the road to hell is indeed lined with good intentions.  Perhaps the intentions are good but the timing and the rendition are not only bad: they are cataclysmic.

When an industry is literally flat on its back on the ground and trying to get up, you do not step over it and say "you follow what I say." 

An important measure of effective leadership is the ability or even the capacity to listen to the constituents to find out what they feel and need. Shutting one's faculties to these important data is tantamount not to leadership but to other terms which are unsavory and synonymous to "un-democratic." Maybe even "Imeldific."

Now what has become of paramount importance is knowing the exact mandate of the FDCP --- why it is still there and why it was created close to two decades ago.  

The principal proponents from the industry were the late Marilou Diaz-Abaya and Laurice Guillen, who battled it out with Congress to create the council meant for two distinct purposes: (a) to supervise the Cinema Evaluation Board (CEB) that would assess quality Filipino films to be rewarded with tax incentives and (b) provide developmental projects and programs to upgrade the artistic and technical quality of Filipino film making and help market local films abroad through international film festivals, markets and other opportunities for a wider exposure.

Laurice Guillen was the first chairman of the FDCP when it was established.

To this day, the Council is headed by a Chairman and comprised of (a) the President of the Film Academy of the Philippines  (b) The President of the Cultural Center of the Philippines (or his representative)  (c) The Secretary of the Department of Education (or his representative) (d) The Secretary of the Department of Trade and Industry (or his representative) (e) The Chairman of the Metro Manila Development Authority (or his representative)  (f) The Chairman of the Cinema Committee of the National Commission of Cultural and Arts (g) The President of the League of Mayors (or his representative) (h) A representative from a recognized group of film workers  (i) A representative of a recognized group of film producers and (j) a representative from the Academe.

These are all presidential appointees even if the FDCP is under the supervision of the Department of Education.  The present status of the council is that it has no representative from film workers as well as no representative from the producers. Today, there are only eight members in the Council.

All projects and endeavors of the FDCP are not the pursuits of the Chairman alone but the council that empowers the one who holds the position to plan and implement these activities. The members of the council are also accountable to what they approve or disapprove as far as the activities of the office.

Repeatedly it is underlined that the FDCP is and should be the operational function of a council. 

As illustrated by the choice of membership of the council that should approve its policies and programs, the FDCP was designed to supplement the growth of industry standards and facilitate its positioning in the international market which is why the NCCA and the CCP are there ... and so are the mayors and the MMDA.  

The council is about promoting films not legislating policies involving films.

Never was it meant to intervene with labor practices, issuance of permits or requiring registration. It should not even intervene with the operation of the various guilds and their activities.  That is the territory of the Film Academy of the Philippines ... not the FDCP.

In its present mandate, the FDCP was created for purposes of supporting the industry through developmental pursuits and has no regulatory power whatsoever to make demands that would point to the monitoring of industries owned and operated by the private sector.

When the Cinema Evaluation Board (CEB) was abolished by a ruling of the Supreme Court, the FDCP lost half of what it was supposed to tend.  The only job left was to sell the country in international festivals and to bring opportunities for the Filipino filmmakers to be exposed to the world market. But with travel restrictions brought about by COVID19 --- uhm, all the international film festivals went online and there was not much travelling to do.

So what to do ... what to do?

Now the FDCP is proposing an expansion of its Implementing Rules and Regulations (IRR.

This is to include a much greater extent of power and territory.  This would validate the inclusion of other audio visual industries like television, commercial productions, live events and theater.  Because as it is ... the FDCP should be working only for the F --- and that is FILM and not FOR EVERYTHING.

As to how the rest of the "audio visual industry" suddenly fell under the umbrella of FDCP, that is a different story all together.  Just blame this as part of the confusion brought about by the pandemic.

And come to think of it, this pandemic has actually opened a lot of gates from which people can benefit from the confusion. Hindi ba?

The Sadness of it All

There is the good news and the bad news.

The bad news is that all trust has been lost between a number of film industry sectors with that of the FDCP.  The goodwill that seemed to have existed before between the industry and the FDCP seemed to have evaporated and turned into steam.

After a series of debacles which started with the JMCm the trust was already lost.  

The JMC involves the safeguard of film workers on the set which was signed, sealed and delivered without adequate consultation with one of the important stakeholders: the producers.

The JMC was passed and published with producers caught by surprise by the inclusion of so many items which were perceived as impractical.  More than that, these addenda bloated the budgets of productions.  Even before the lock down, everyone in the business knew that the numbers being brought in at the box office were already dismal. Any added cost would further cripple productions.

The safety of people on the set is a concern for everybody.  There is nothing wrong with that --- and to find ways of further professionalizing the industry should be encouraged. But consultations are imperatives: policies cannot be made like pulling rabbits out of hats.  People affected by policies should be told and conversations, discussions even arguments should be allowed to be able to ventilate apprehensions and clarify issues.

After a meeting in late February with producers at Annabel's Restaurant in Tomas Morato reacting to the JMC, FDCP promised to review the material and accommodate necessary changes as suggested by producers. It was agreed that suggestions must not compromise the original intent of the proposal.  

Yet sometime late March during the lock down in a zoom meeting with the PMPPA, the JMC still remained in its because FDCP categorically stated that it was already a done deal. Of course, this statement created a major lesion between the PMPPA and that office. What was that promise to wait for the revisions, blah, blah, blah ... so that the producers can throw in their inputs?  What was that February meeting for? To savor the lugaw and tokwa't baboy served over merienda?

Well, it is true. By the time the producers reacted, the JMC had already been published so you really cannot do any revisions. So take it: that seems to be the modus operandi --- You have no choice because we have decided.

Then came the protocol and now this Joint Order Agreement (JOA) between the FDCP and the two government departments.  

Yes, it has reached a point that dialogue is no longer an alternative because it is easier for a biologically deaf person to listen than one who simply chooses not to hear.  There is nothing more tiring and frustrating than an exercise in futility.

With the issuance of the advisory late yesterday, even those who wanted to give people the benefit of a doubt or another chance were convinced as to what direction this narrative was going. 

That is what is most painful.

It is not going to make life any easier for any of us working in films. Or television. Or commercials. 

Now there is another bureaucratic layer where every project must first pass through the office of the FDCP.

And we still ask more than twenty-four hours later: Bakit?

Personally, I am more saddened than angered by the turn of events.

I am saddened because of the total loss of trust and respect for certain persons who I once thought had the best intentions for the industry that I love and given my life. I actually feel so stupid even believing them in the first place.

People can and will disappoint but it is hard to even feign civility when trust has been so diminished from those who you once thought were worth your time and effort. And, yes, respect.

You blame yourself for being too trusting while at the same time you hold back all the self-blame to avoid being completely cynical.

At this point, we in the film industry only want to get back to work. 

 Any form of added bureaucratic process imposed on any of the sectors of our business becomes such an intolerable burden. This is even harder to accept because this comes from an institution you once hoped would provide the crutches for our damaged industry in these most trying times in recent history.

We do not need messiahs of whatever form --- but we want to rise with our own hard work and determination and together.  

For this is the only way we can survive this economic meltdown brought by the pandemic  --- by being united and determined to go against all odds. 

Now that is the good news.  

The Industry is coming together as one --- as we are beginning to see the importance of watching each other's backs. We only hope this experience facilitates all the stakeholders to see how each and everyone of us is as important --- no, more important than any institution --- if we want to validate our dignity as an industry.

For each day when you find that your production manager is now selling kare-kare and tokwa't baboy on line --- or that your location manager has become a delivery boy plying the streets of Manila on his bike to keep his family alive, or that your Utility Boys are literally walking the streets trying to find any temporary employment to get them through the day ... you are stabbed in the heart.  

When you hear all the horror stories of your co-workers scrimping in order to stretch their remaining savings until there is work available ... you realize one thing: you do not need anybody making it harder for you and your brothers to rise up and get back on our feet.

You simply shove these obstacles aside and say, "We are the industry.  We will do it our way."

DAY 100: ECQ

Today I celebrate my 100th day of relative self-isolation.

As I have said before, there have been so many changes happening in me --- that I realize how much of a different person I have become since I agreed to stay within the periphery of my house since 14 March of this year.

Even before the Grand ECQ was announced, I was still trying to do more of the same --- extending that old normal by not taking the pandemic all too seriously to be paranoid.  As late as mid-March we were told that you do not need to wear a face mask unless you are feeling sick.  OK, fine.  I had a face mask tucked in my pocket but it was inconvenient.  It takes getting used to because you are breathing in the same air you are breathing out.

But then you were told that you were wearing that mask not only to protect yourself but to protect others from you.  The fact that you can be going around without knowing you are shedding the virus to everyone who you care to willingly or unwittingly share droplets from your nose and mouth --- is what is most threatening about COVID19.  

I precisely remember that I even had the audacity to go out to the gym and take a selfie to post in Instagram and Facebook after which I received a stampede of text messages from friends and family asking, "What is the matter with you?  Why are you in the gym?" Didn't I know that the fitness club is a petri dish for the virus to go multiply?  What will all the huffing and sweating and bodily liquids splashing around people in treadmills or undergoing ecstacy in a Zumba or spinning class!

Even if I told them then that there were a grand total of four clients in the gym and we were not only one meter --- but one planet apart --- that would not have appeased the concerned mob.  In short, I was unequivocally told to go home and hibernate like the rest of the world.

Nobody thought this would last this long.

I had a friend tell me that it would take about one or two months then it is over.  Kuya, we have entered our third month and we still have not peaked.  I am not going to go into the Blame Game to try to explain why after nearly three months and a half that we are still f--ed up.  But that is the truth:  after three months of no work and keeping away from each other, we are still so screwed.  

One of my friends asked, "Eh, bakit pa tayo nagkulong ng tatlong buwan kung ganito lang naman?"  I wish I could give a convincing answer to that.  But then the more spiritually inclined --- the last of the remaining positivists or those perhaps touched by the Holy Spirit would say, " Nagkulong tayo kaya ngayon buhay pa tayo." Well, yeah. 

The past one hundred days taught us that after two weeks of climbing up the walls of your house out of an urgent need to Get Out , a sobering feeling slowly creeps in making you numbed by hibernation.  Admittedly, I felt restless after the first week of going into a Groundhog Day Mode, knowing that each day will begin and end in exactly the same manner as the day before and even the day before that.  After getting used to a schedule thriving on the adrenaline of frenzy, you are suddenly a sleepwalker.  You feel like a domesticated zombie going on autopilot from moment of waking up until you hear the National Anthem in your mind suggesting the end of the day.

And we have all sorts of mechanisms for coping.  You cannot simply vegetate inside your home waiting for some major event like an alien abduction to give meaning to your quarantined life.

Others took to cooking and/or baking.  Considering all the cooking shows you see on YouTube, you cannot help but rush to the kitchen and bake cookies or banoffee pies.
Just tonight I watched a grand total of six videos on how to make papaya atsara ... and to think that the only time I go to the kitchen is to open the fridge to see what I can eat at one in the morning.  

Others turned not only into couch potatoes but Netflix addicts.  There shall be a term eventually concocted to describe the syndrome of those who wake up in the morning and grab the TV remote control to watch the first of a series of Koreanovelas they will binge on for the rest of the day and repeated throughout everyday of the week.  Some would even confess that they do not go out of their bedrooms because from sunrise to sundown, their eyes are glued on all the Koreanovelas they can consume while their brains are still functional.

And I do not blame them.  Koreanovelas ... or any show you let into your life not only to fill your quarantined days but to give you a sense of purpose is good enough reason for you no longer explaining yourself to everybody.  I mean, really ... it is none of their business what you do in the privacy of your bedroom --- even if it means fantasizing about Park So Joon or Lee Min Ho as the future father of their children.

Then there are those who my nephew calls plantitos and plantitas.

After being trapped inside my house for more than three months, I finally realized (or remembered) that I have a garden.  Yeah, yeah ... it's there. You always take for granted parts of your house if you do not frequent the areas --- or you can do without them.  There was a time I gave the garden much attention ... but then that eventually dwindled. 

Until the lockdown.

As a result of one hundred days of spending a good 95% of the time at home, I have become obsessed with plants.

When finally I could go out, the first major adventure I pursued is to go to Quezon Memorial Circle and buy plants and clay pots.  I also decided to attack Facebook Market ... where I used to hunt for additions to my collection of kaijus ... but now I am hunting for the most colorful indoor and outdoor plants I can find to fill up my house.  Yes, it is therapeutic and all that ... but I never realized it would reach this point when I console myself for my isolation by having a fit of excitement looking at a beautiful succulent.

After one hundred days I finally succumbed to online banking, buying fresh meat and fruits online ... and replaced malls with Lazada, Shopee and Zalora.  I realized that I barely wore anything aside from my pambahay and had no compulsion to dress up and go somewhere for the sake of dressing up and going anywhere.  You can always claim that you are scrimping because for three months there are no jobs ... but then that is only half the picture.

The truth is that after 100 days, you really have lost a substantial gusto for going out.  That much I realized.  After 100 days, I have learned to do without what I used to think was the epicenter of my daily existence.  

We are all still waiting for work to resume ... because of all the complications that arose in a desire to protect everyone on the film's set.  There is no sure Opening Date for us to go back and shoot films or have face-to-face classes with my students.  In the meantime, we ask ourselves ... where did those one hundred days go?

I have a better question: from here, where will we go?  Will we be like here and now for another hundred days?

DAY 99: ECQ

Finally, tomorrow I am hitting the century mark for spending my days locked in my house for reasons of human survival.

And as we slowly move into that historic level --- perhaps being distinguished as the winner of the Longest Lockdown Award on the Planet, I am told that there are more than one thousand new cases of COVID19 reported by the Department of Health Tonight.

I do not know what to say.  Perhaps being speechless is the only alternative --- because you really cannot make rhyme or reason about what has happened and what is happening.  Worse, you do not want to think of what is yet to come.

I know for a very sad fact that the virus has taken away about five people I know personally.  That is far much more than the numbers fed to you from all over the world about those who succumbed to the lethal import from Wuhan.  When  there is a name and a face to the victim --- it hits you where it hurts most.  And frightens you.  

No, we haven't flattened the curve.  We haven't even plateaued.  We are just cruising along and let God or Bathala or whoever Supreme Being there is out there to lead us through wherever we are meant to go.  As the number of COVID cases rise, so do we open the doors and ease the quarantine --- some damn irony brought about by necessity.  As I have always said, it all came to a decision to choose between being alive or having a living.

Guess what choice was made?  Matira ang matibay.  As that tindera in the palengke told my housekeeper who asked her why she was not wearing a face mask, the rather proud lady declared, "Naku, yang COVID na yan ... sakit sa grocery at supermarket ... hindi sa palengke. Kami dito sanay sa dumi hindi katulad ng mga mayayaman na masyadong malinis ang katawan kaya sakitin."

OK, tell that to the World Health Organization.  Or maybe somebody can come up with a brilliant theories about spawning anti-bodies.  Tell that to all the confused and confusing as we try to make way out of this pathetic quagmire.

But as we enter the 100th day, we have more problems than the rising cases that seem to smack us right in the face.

I had the mistake to enter a mall to buy stationery and what I saw absolutely depressed me.

Only about thirty percent ... maybe even less ... of the shops were operating.  The mall was dark, devoid of impressive air conditioning (as required by law) and there were about ten of us in there ... at twelve noon.

This is the mall that is my go-to everytime I need to see other human beings of various shapes and sizes: this is the mammon where I can enjoy the noise of crowds while at the same time enjoy the sights and sounds of my little capitalist joys.

Now there is something strangely dystopian about that experience --- something sad not only because of the emptiness of the place but what it implies about the businesses gasping for breath inside.  Fact:  people are still wary of coming out of their homes and exposing themselves to others ... social distancing or not.  Moreover, nearly three months of isolation has taught the common folk that you can stay home and not feel miserable because this is all a matter of getting used to.

And when staying home becomes a necessity --- then going out to see the sights and sounds of beautiful commerce turns into an unnecessary luxury.

I have spent three months without buying a stick of clothing.

I have amused myself with streaming platforms and found the joys of the diversity of YouTube.

I have learned that you can buy almost anything online ... ranging from succulents to terra cotta pots for plants to ink for your printer and even the best kare-kares in town.  You have discovered the joys on online groceries and even have Wagyu cubes delivered to your doorstep.

And you realize that you do not need crowds.  As a matter of fact, you have grown a fear of them.  

Thus business are literally struggling.  And one good reason why malls are empty is because walang pera ang tao. Ganoon lang kasimple yon.  At kung may pera man sila, there is no joy going to a mall that has turned into a catacomb.

So how are we going to proceed from this?  As we enter our 100th day, we ask ourselves, "O, tapos?" and we wish somebody can give us a concrete answer.

But the way it seems, the operating principle in these parts is, "Bahala na si Batman."

Now that is really scary.

DAY 98: ECQ

For some it is already Day 100.  For me, it is Day 98.  But it does not matter.

What I know is that my world ... our world ... went on Pause Mode for more than three months.

That means three months of no work.  Three months of self-isolation in our homes with the singular intent of protecting ourselves from a lethal virus that has cause a shutdown to a great percentage of the planet.  Three months of not going out of the house (unless extremely necessary) and if and when that need arises ... showing one's self in public looking like a Star Wars character complete with face mask, face shield, gloves, shoe protectors and terrified/paranoid that the next human being who comes closer than three feet away will sputter droplets containing the lethal COVID19 and take you back to the Kingdom of God even when that was not yet part of your immediate plans.

Yes, even after close to 100 days I still feel paranoid.

What used to be an anticipated respite --- even a weekend adventure --- has become a major production number: that is doing the groceries.  Somehow it has become too much of a ritual, so much of a hassle to be gearing yourself up while carrying about a bottle of alcohol or hand sanitizer in your pocket, gasping for breath because when you wear these masks you are sniffing back the carbon dioxide you should be sending to plants with sweat dripping from your forehead because of your face shield.  And all because you wanted to buy a bag of spaghetti and a can of tomato sauce or maybe yet another roll of three ply toilet paper.

If you believe all the rumors floating around, then you would not only have turned into a paranoid but a misanthrope because of this pandemic.

Remember that we were all warned that you wear face masks to protect others from infection just in case you are carrying the virus and asymptomatic.

That is the biggest hassle of them all.  Them asymptomatics.  There is absolutely no way of telling whether somebody is carrying the virus and spreading it to anyone who gets on the way of his droplets emanated from his nose and mouth.  What is even more threatening is that some people with such impressive health may be infected but barely affected by the virus because they may have semblances of the genes of the Planet Krypto in their system.

So the point is that you better keep away from people.  Regardless of degree of familiarity or whether you share immediate or distant branches of a family tree, you still keep away from each other because nobody is safe.  You can only make yourself safer by avoiding all human contacts.  

I would have thought that bonding with animals in the absence of humans would be good enough (and, at times, even better) until news came out that even cats can be infected by COVID19.

Maybe that is what makes these past 98 or 100 days completely ... disorienting.

For more than three months a number of us have not seen our friends and relatives.  

Yes, we can Zoom and Skype ourselves until we actually believe that people are meant to be compartmentalized like Crossword Puzzle grids --- but that is the best that we can do.  And when quarantine was finally eased to get people back to work (and save what looks like an economy tail spinning then spiraling down to the infinity pits), there is no sufficient solution to the shortage of mass transportation to get people around.

As a grumpy friend of mine said, "How can we get around with social distancing in public transportation whereas in the 'old normal' it was already hard enough to get a ride ... ngayon pa with social distancing?"  

This also leads me to another frustration that even with the easing of the quarantine, I cannot completely reopen my office because I do not want to risk the health of my assistant who has to take the MRT from his place to our place of work.  Not only is that a death-defying trial to get on the train ... but the amount of waiting time is enough for anyone to beg for euthanasia even before you get aboard a coach.

Yes, I am still disoriented ... and maybe flabbergasted that it will almost be 100 days for me and I still do not see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I do not know when I can see my friends and family again ... or when I can dine in a restaurant and have a good meal and a good laugh with my buddies without curtains of transparent plastic fluttering in between us so that we are safe from each other.  

I want to hug people again --- and not limit this predilection of mine to my Labrador retriever who has been hugged too many times she is beginning to keep away from me.  
Sige, I can do without the handshakes and maybe turn Japanese or Korean by replacing this with a gentle bow.  I can even do without the high fives --- but I want human contact again.

I want to be human again ... for this is what the virus has done to punish us.  We are kept away from each other.  We are being taught a lesson of how we took things so easily for granted.  And now that we must keep away from each other, we realize that there the privilege of human touch is priceless ... and necessary.

I want to be with people again.  I want to get back to work.

Perhaps I am wanting a world that will take so much time (especially here) to even create a semblance of sorts of the way it was.