Remembering Karen and Sherlyn

I logged in to Facebook earlier and was reminded through Prof. Judy Taguiwalo’s status post that today marks the third year since the forced disappearance of UP student-activists Karen Empeño and Sherlyn Cadapan.

Karen and Sherlyn are active members of the militant groups League of Filipino Students and Anakbayan. They were doing research for their theses when they were abducted by military men on June 26, 2006 in Hagonoy, Bulacan.

A local farmer, Manuel Merino, who was also abducted with Karen and Sherlyn, eventually managed to escape after months of captivity. His testimony in court has confirmed that the AFP is behind the abduction.

I remember being horrified while I first read the blotter reports and eyewitness testimonies, while I interviewed Karen and Sherlyn's families for a news article for the Collegian, while I read Manuel Merino's tales of torture. My horror was rivaled only by my new-found disgust and anger at what the government can do to "neutralise" anyone at the slightest suspicion of being an "insurgent."

I remember being enraged by Jovito Palparan's nonchalant denials of his involvement, because he projects the easy demeanor of someone who is above the law, who can get away with whatever he does.

What has happened since the two disappeared? Writs from the courts have been issued and the high tribunal has ruled that the military is behind the abductions. A UN rapporteur has declared that the government is responsible for orchestrating extrajudicial killings and forced disappearances. Human rights groups and other progressive organizations have tirelessly fought in court and in the streets. But like in many other cases of missing, jailed, or murdered activists, it seems as if these otherwise valiant efforts have yet to yield results.

Three years is a long time for waiting. To me, it seemed as if it happened just yesterday, but to the closest friends and family of Karen and Sherlyn, three years must have felt like an eternity. To the mothers of Karen and Sherlyn who have fought relentlessly, who have attended numerous court hearings and protest rallies in the hopes of being reunited with their daughters, it must have been a long, lonely, and painful process.

Three years is a long time. What to do? I guess we don't just wait for justice to be served. We fight for it. Personally, I don't know everything that I could do to help and I suspect I alone could not do much. I could start, though, by saying I have not forgotten. I remember.


(Artwork by Jether Amar)

Contemplathings XIII

1. My long-overdue Pene tribute. Nobody talks about the Oscars anymore, but a kudos post to someone like Penelope Cruz is perhaps always welcome; I just couldn't find the right mood to write decently and finish my blogpost draft. So I'm typing away randomly instead in an attempt to while away the hot afternoon hours.

2. Friends at the Collegian. I know I should not have reduced myself to being published in Inquirer's Youngblood. But I did, because I was bored, and now I have to live with the fact that Jerrie et al are disappointed with me. There's an unspoken but mutual opinion among them that I took the easiest way to write and get published, which is a polite way of saying I'm cheap. I'm afraid I don't entirely disagree. Lesson learned: do not ever do things out of mere boredom.

3. Last Order sa Penguin, by Chris Martinez. I just reread this Palanca-winning play, and I hope a theater house thinks about doing it onstage again. We could all certainly use a good laugh.

4. Rurouni Kenshin. I have liked anime well enough before, but when Naruto and a slew of other crass anime shows came into the picture, I lost my eagerness to watch more. I decided to watch Rorouni Kenshin (Samurai X) on DVD these past few weeks, and found out it was quite historically accurate to Japan's Bakumatsu period. Some even say most of the characters were patterned after real Shinsengumi members. I religiously followed the TV series back in high school, but I have never given much thought about it.

After I'm done with Rurouni, I'll hunt next for a copy of Neon Genesis Evangelion. Also back in high school when I was following the series on national TV, I always thought Rei is hot. And then I started noticing Shinji is hot, too. LOL.

Nostalgia

It is both comforting and painful to accept that there is a very slim chance that I will write for the Philippine Collegian again. I say there's still a chance, though very slim, and that shows how hopelessly optimistic I can be even with the bleakest of prospects. Newsbreak: I still toy with the idea that Joey and I might go out together again.

What was it that Jesse (Ethan Hawke) said in Before Sunset? "We all look at the world through our own tiny, little keyhole"?

Still, it's quite comforting to know that I no longer foster illusions of superhuman strength. I have tried juggling work, school, and writing news for the Collegian last year, and it was a horror better experienced once.

I still groan at the idea though that work, Kule, and studies all make up a lethal combination. I am someone who's always impatient to get all things done at once, or at least, try doing them all at once. (When I was a kid, I shuttled back and forth between Tom Sawyer and Mills & Boons.)

I still marvel at how Kule manages to publish weekly and, at the same time, come up with well-written, relevant articles. I do not brag, the credit is to those at the helm of this paper. Until now, I am amazed that they put up with me for almost two years. Working with some of the most talented and principled students in Diliman, you are left with no other choice but to be at least good at what you're supposed to do, because everyone else is brilliant at what they're doing.


I feel that I have disappointed them in one way or another. During my stint, I was eager to learn, and for some time, they thought they might even groom me for news editorship. Then I quit school and worked at a call center. I said it's a temporary thing, until I saved enough money. Did I already say I am too optimistic (read: naive) for my own good?

I miss the weekly Friday-to-Sunday presswork, the thrill of writing about something important, of something urgent. I miss walking from building to building in the hot afternoon sun, interviewing Academic oval vendors, janitors, professors, university officials, fratmen, athletes, student leaders, congressmen sometimes.

I miss Budget Cat, the resident feline we named after UP's perennial woe, who lives in our office. She has a very healthy sex life that some writers secretly envy.

I miss Mang Romy, the senile octogenarian who's livesd in Vinzons Hall since the 80s, I think. He claims he is a former UP student and that he used to date Susan Roces, among other women. Every year, the current Editor-in-Chief's greatest fear is that he would have to attend Mang Romy's funeral.

I miss the grafitti on the office toilet walls and the engraved names of the staff on the "conference" table. I miss the ancient rusty refrigerator which made me realize I am immune from tetanus.


But most of all, I miss the people. I miss Melane, a Batanguenya born in Italia. It is a running joke that she has shook the hands of the Pope. Nakadaupang palad na niya ang Papa. I miss the usually fierce Jerrie who sobbed once because a probationary news writer preferred to have his draft edited by Melane, because he thought Signiora Melania is, uh, nicer. Mas matututo po kasi ako sa kaniya eh.

I miss the news staff: Alliage, who is now news editor, whose motto in life is to not eat on time. Mamaya na lang ako kakain, bilang magugutom din naman ako mamaya; and Tony, the perpetual closet gay who sounds like the puppet voice of a ventriloquist.

I could go on and on. I find nostalgia vastly entertaining. It only makes me sad that these are things and people that I may never see again, if and only if I ever find myself in Room 401 of Vinzons Hall again. I can console myself though of one thing: that though I failed my friends in Kule, they will be able to find new people who would take over, who would bury Mang Romy, who would take care of Budget Cat's litter, who would lobby for a new refrigerator.

But most of all, I am confident that they would be able to find people who would stand for what they believe in, who will not bow down to repression, and who will continue the Philippine Collegian's long tradition of serving the students and the marginalized.

These new people will be better than I was. They will be stronger to ignore the difficulty of going to school on an empty stomach. They will be able to resist the lure of a tempting five-digit salary. They will be able to go back if they strayed too far. I almost feel as if I no longer want or need to write again.



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