Thursday, May 29, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Nowhere to hide
ISULAN, SULTAN KUDARAT--The people should be alert and inform the authority of any suspicious objects, for a bomb had just exploded in Midsayap, Cotabato.
That was the gist of the announcement issued through a PA system. I didn’t hear all of it, for the noise of passing tricycles drowned the crackling voice.
I was at the public market, walking along beauty parlors and agri-supply stores, when I heard the stern warning. When I looked up, I was surprised to see a newly installed speaker atop an electric post. It seemed the local government had taken every possible measure to keep the town safe from terrorist incursions.
From this town, the capital of Sultan Kudarat, Midsayap is more than an hour ride away. The people here have nothing to fear, if not for the fact that Midsayap and Isulan haplessly have something in common: they’re both located in Mindanao.
It’s common knowledge that what happens in one part of this large island may also happen in other parts. In the past, some bombings occurred in different spots only a few hours or days apart.
Perhaps I’ve been inured with bomb threats. I did not leave the public market in a hurry, as I usually would before. In normal pace, I walked past Maranaw stalls and booths of pirated DVDs. I lingered in a newsstand for a while and bought a paper before heading home.
I can’t say I’m no longer scared. Who could ignore vicious terrorists, violent separatists or plain terrorists? The danger they pose may not be clear and present, yet it’s lurking and real all the same. I’m still scared of the threat, but I’ve learned to live with it.
I’m confident my hometown is relatively peaceful. As far as I know, no one here has been killed by a bomb, though an improvised explosive device or two were found at the town center about eight years ago, at the peak of the Estrada administration’s all-out war against the MILF.
But even if I were in Tacurong, General Santos or Cotabato—cities that I consider high-risk—I’d probably react to a bomb threat in the same fatalistic manner.
What shall I do? Rush home? Avoid fiestas and crowded places? No, I won’t do that—because I’m tired of doing that.
In July last year, extortionist group Al-Khobar hounded with a series of bombings the bus line plying the Isulan-Tacurong-Koronadal route. I was studying in Koronadal then, so I rode those buses home during weekends. One blast killed a pastor. Another wounded a few passengers. Fearing for my safety, I didn’t go home for almost two months.
While I was studying in Tacurong five years ago, I had to walk through the center of the public market everyday, from school to the terminal of multicabs bound for Isulan. During that time, the public market of the city was a target of recurrent bomb attacks, suspectedly by the Abu Sayyaf and Jemaah Islamiyah. I would walk fast every time I passed by the area.
One time, while I was inside a convenience store, the people outside started shouting, “bomba! bomba!” The other customers and I retreated to the back of the store. Through the glass wall, I witnessed people in the streets running away, their faces red with terror, some of them leaving their slippers behind. I anticipated a deafening blast, then shards of glass to fly toward me.
Fortunately, it was just a false alarm (or else, I won’t be writing this). I left the place without any missing body parts but my sense of security and peace of mind was dented. For weeks after the incident, I would jolt whenever I heard sudden, loud noises.
When the latest bomb exploded, I felt sad for the victims and for the image of Mindanao. I worried about Muslim-Christian relationship. But I refuse to be filled with terror, if that’s what the perpetrators intend to sow.
I’m tired of hiding, when there’s nowhere to hide. I must be cautious, yes, but I’ve got to stop being paranoid. I’ve got to stop feeling helpless. Amid bomb threats, life must go on.
That was the gist of the announcement issued through a PA system. I didn’t hear all of it, for the noise of passing tricycles drowned the crackling voice.
I was at the public market, walking along beauty parlors and agri-supply stores, when I heard the stern warning. When I looked up, I was surprised to see a newly installed speaker atop an electric post. It seemed the local government had taken every possible measure to keep the town safe from terrorist incursions.
From this town, the capital of Sultan Kudarat, Midsayap is more than an hour ride away. The people here have nothing to fear, if not for the fact that Midsayap and Isulan haplessly have something in common: they’re both located in Mindanao.
It’s common knowledge that what happens in one part of this large island may also happen in other parts. In the past, some bombings occurred in different spots only a few hours or days apart.
Perhaps I’ve been inured with bomb threats. I did not leave the public market in a hurry, as I usually would before. In normal pace, I walked past Maranaw stalls and booths of pirated DVDs. I lingered in a newsstand for a while and bought a paper before heading home.
I can’t say I’m no longer scared. Who could ignore vicious terrorists, violent separatists or plain terrorists? The danger they pose may not be clear and present, yet it’s lurking and real all the same. I’m still scared of the threat, but I’ve learned to live with it.
I’m confident my hometown is relatively peaceful. As far as I know, no one here has been killed by a bomb, though an improvised explosive device or two were found at the town center about eight years ago, at the peak of the Estrada administration’s all-out war against the MILF.
But even if I were in Tacurong, General Santos or Cotabato—cities that I consider high-risk—I’d probably react to a bomb threat in the same fatalistic manner.
What shall I do? Rush home? Avoid fiestas and crowded places? No, I won’t do that—because I’m tired of doing that.
In July last year, extortionist group Al-Khobar hounded with a series of bombings the bus line plying the Isulan-Tacurong-Koronadal route. I was studying in Koronadal then, so I rode those buses home during weekends. One blast killed a pastor. Another wounded a few passengers. Fearing for my safety, I didn’t go home for almost two months.
While I was studying in Tacurong five years ago, I had to walk through the center of the public market everyday, from school to the terminal of multicabs bound for Isulan. During that time, the public market of the city was a target of recurrent bomb attacks, suspectedly by the Abu Sayyaf and Jemaah Islamiyah. I would walk fast every time I passed by the area.
One time, while I was inside a convenience store, the people outside started shouting, “bomba! bomba!” The other customers and I retreated to the back of the store. Through the glass wall, I witnessed people in the streets running away, their faces red with terror, some of them leaving their slippers behind. I anticipated a deafening blast, then shards of glass to fly toward me.
Fortunately, it was just a false alarm (or else, I won’t be writing this). I left the place without any missing body parts but my sense of security and peace of mind was dented. For weeks after the incident, I would jolt whenever I heard sudden, loud noises.
When the latest bomb exploded, I felt sad for the victims and for the image of Mindanao. I worried about Muslim-Christian relationship. But I refuse to be filled with terror, if that’s what the perpetrators intend to sow.
I’m tired of hiding, when there’s nowhere to hide. I must be cautious, yes, but I’ve got to stop being paranoid. I’ve got to stop feeling helpless. Amid bomb threats, life must go on.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Blogging myths
Fair warning: I was 50% serious when I wrote this!
I’ve been into this thing called blogging for several months now. And like millions of people in the planet who are hooked into it, I’ve been unabashedly chronicling my life. I’ve been updating my friends online with great moments in history, like where I went for coffee last night and how I fell on a fish pond last week.
You’re probably into it also, obsessively posting your cute pictures of your cute pet dog or your esteemed opinion of Britney Spears’ travails. Search engine Technorati claims it tracks 112.8 million blogs in the World Wide Web. According to it also, over 175,000 new blogs are created everyday. The influential Time magazine hailed “You” (contributors to Wikipedia, YouTube, MySpace, etc.) as 2006 Person of the Year. If you don’t have a blog, where have you been? I bet not to the boondocks, for I grew up there and I have a blog!
If by any chance you’re not yet a blogger, I suggest you hurry and sit in front the nearest PC and start building the ultimate shrine for your self—but not before heeding a few words I have to say here.
Now don’t mistake me for some internet marketing guru. I’m not doing this to get a commission from you (although there’s something like that in my blog hehe.) I’m not going to parrot all those hypes about blogging. In fact, I’d like to warn you that the blogosphere sometimes, if not oftentimes, sucks.
Since people from different countries populate the world of blogs, you might have the idea that it’s so wonderful and colorful. Truth is, blog-hopping isn’t much different from trekking Smokey Mountain; you have to rummage through heaps of trash before stumbling on something of worth. I once checked out blogs in random. Of the more than thirty sites I visited, one made me say “Wow!” The rest made me say “Aww!”
Fed up with lifestyle columnnists writing about their selves and the parties they’ve been to? Don’t go to Blogger or WordPress for a breath of fresh air. They’re the perfect place to look for countless sentences that begin with “I”. Bloggers, not excluding me, are a bunch of narcissists. (The columnists, at least, can turn a foot spa experience into a long, seemingly relevant essay, and their urban slang vocabulary is impeccable.)
Many an advertisement projects blogging as a lucrative hobby. It is lucrative indeed, if you don’t take it as a hobby. For advertisers to give you much moolah, you have to drive heavy traffic to your site. The Pay-Per-Click program, for example, requires that visitors of your site click on an advertisement before you earn a few cents. And just how many of your visitors would actually click on ads, which are usually considered pesky?
The Pay-Per-Play, meanwhile, airs a five-second audio commercial every time someone opens your homepage. So you have to continually promote your blog, the common way of doing which is by asking other bloggers to put a link to your blog in theirs. More often than not, this means coming across an awful site and leaving a comment that goes this way: “Nice blog! Exchange links tayo ha (smiley)”.
Another way of earning money is through the Pay-Per-Post arrangement, in which advertisers pay you when you review (read: praise) their product. This requires a stretch of imagination, as you have to connect your ordinary day with, say, the hotels in Orange County. You may devote an entire blog entry to the product alone, but doing this often may result to a drawback in the number of your loyal visitors. You know, people surf the net for free information. They’d feel robbed once they discover you’re cashing in on their loyalty.
I personally know some bloggers who rake in a few hundred dollars almost monthly. With technical and social savvy, they spend hours on their blog, trying to reach as many people as possible. I make an effort to follow them, but I always find myself burning time online re-reading my posts, looking for typos and engrossed with the thought of art for art’s sake. I haven’t earned anything yet, but I learned one thing: Looking for money is never easy; it always involves toiling, no matter what those darn ads say.
Lastly, you might think of blogging as a socially rewarding experience. Sorry to burst your bubble, but when it comes to gaining friends and building relationships, nothing beats the analog way: conversing face-to-face, helping each other, and going out for beer. Sure, you’ll receive some sympathetic reactions as you reveal your innermost fears or rant about that ill-mannered shop assistant who didn’t recognize you’re Prince Harry. Most of your friends in blogging, however, could really care less, for they are likely busy blogging about their friends in real life. Worse, the web is home also to people who would say vicious words against you, and it’s all the more frustrating because they usually do it anonymously.
Blogging isn’t purely fun. But despite the setbacks, I still maintain my blog—blogs, actually. I have one blog that serves as a reservoir of my angsts and anger. I could write there everything, including things I choose not to say to others, because I’d be burning bridges if I do. Of course, I don’t name names and places, and nobody knows it’s my blog.
The blog keeps me sane. Pouring out my thoughts into it has the same cathartic effect as that of talking to an old, trusted friend. This reason alone is enough for me to keep on blogging.
Blog. Be creative. Be cautious. Be responsible.
I’ve been into this thing called blogging for several months now. And like millions of people in the planet who are hooked into it, I’ve been unabashedly chronicling my life. I’ve been updating my friends online with great moments in history, like where I went for coffee last night and how I fell on a fish pond last week.
You’re probably into it also, obsessively posting your cute pictures of your cute pet dog or your esteemed opinion of Britney Spears’ travails. Search engine Technorati claims it tracks 112.8 million blogs in the World Wide Web. According to it also, over 175,000 new blogs are created everyday. The influential Time magazine hailed “You” (contributors to Wikipedia, YouTube, MySpace, etc.) as 2006 Person of the Year. If you don’t have a blog, where have you been? I bet not to the boondocks, for I grew up there and I have a blog!
If by any chance you’re not yet a blogger, I suggest you hurry and sit in front the nearest PC and start building the ultimate shrine for your self—but not before heeding a few words I have to say here.
Now don’t mistake me for some internet marketing guru. I’m not doing this to get a commission from you (although there’s something like that in my blog hehe.) I’m not going to parrot all those hypes about blogging. In fact, I’d like to warn you that the blogosphere sometimes, if not oftentimes, sucks.
Since people from different countries populate the world of blogs, you might have the idea that it’s so wonderful and colorful. Truth is, blog-hopping isn’t much different from trekking Smokey Mountain; you have to rummage through heaps of trash before stumbling on something of worth. I once checked out blogs in random. Of the more than thirty sites I visited, one made me say “Wow!” The rest made me say “Aww!”
Fed up with lifestyle columnnists writing about their selves and the parties they’ve been to? Don’t go to Blogger or WordPress for a breath of fresh air. They’re the perfect place to look for countless sentences that begin with “I”. Bloggers, not excluding me, are a bunch of narcissists. (The columnists, at least, can turn a foot spa experience into a long, seemingly relevant essay, and their urban slang vocabulary is impeccable.)
Many an advertisement projects blogging as a lucrative hobby. It is lucrative indeed, if you don’t take it as a hobby. For advertisers to give you much moolah, you have to drive heavy traffic to your site. The Pay-Per-Click program, for example, requires that visitors of your site click on an advertisement before you earn a few cents. And just how many of your visitors would actually click on ads, which are usually considered pesky?
The Pay-Per-Play, meanwhile, airs a five-second audio commercial every time someone opens your homepage. So you have to continually promote your blog, the common way of doing which is by asking other bloggers to put a link to your blog in theirs. More often than not, this means coming across an awful site and leaving a comment that goes this way: “Nice blog! Exchange links tayo ha (smiley)”.
Another way of earning money is through the Pay-Per-Post arrangement, in which advertisers pay you when you review (read: praise) their product. This requires a stretch of imagination, as you have to connect your ordinary day with, say, the hotels in Orange County. You may devote an entire blog entry to the product alone, but doing this often may result to a drawback in the number of your loyal visitors. You know, people surf the net for free information. They’d feel robbed once they discover you’re cashing in on their loyalty.
I personally know some bloggers who rake in a few hundred dollars almost monthly. With technical and social savvy, they spend hours on their blog, trying to reach as many people as possible. I make an effort to follow them, but I always find myself burning time online re-reading my posts, looking for typos and engrossed with the thought of art for art’s sake. I haven’t earned anything yet, but I learned one thing: Looking for money is never easy; it always involves toiling, no matter what those darn ads say.
Lastly, you might think of blogging as a socially rewarding experience. Sorry to burst your bubble, but when it comes to gaining friends and building relationships, nothing beats the analog way: conversing face-to-face, helping each other, and going out for beer. Sure, you’ll receive some sympathetic reactions as you reveal your innermost fears or rant about that ill-mannered shop assistant who didn’t recognize you’re Prince Harry. Most of your friends in blogging, however, could really care less, for they are likely busy blogging about their friends in real life. Worse, the web is home also to people who would say vicious words against you, and it’s all the more frustrating because they usually do it anonymously.
Blogging isn’t purely fun. But despite the setbacks, I still maintain my blog—blogs, actually. I have one blog that serves as a reservoir of my angsts and anger. I could write there everything, including things I choose not to say to others, because I’d be burning bridges if I do. Of course, I don’t name names and places, and nobody knows it’s my blog.
The blog keeps me sane. Pouring out my thoughts into it has the same cathartic effect as that of talking to an old, trusted friend. This reason alone is enough for me to keep on blogging.
Blog. Be creative. Be cautious. Be responsible.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
