Today I tasted fresh Guyabano for the first time, which reminded me of the fabulous new genre of fruits in the Philippines – what I call “creamy fruits.” These are fruits I’ve NEVER had before in my life, and which are all, well, creamy!
They include: Durian, Mangosteen, Marang, Guyabano, Jackfruit (perhaps semi-creamy) … they’re all delicious!
Jackfruit images: [fruits] courtesy of SOMMAI / FreeDigitalPhotos.net [on tree] courtesy of scottchan / FreeDigitalPhotos.net.
My two DCs experienced violence within one hour of each other on September 16.
13 people died in a shooting after 8am EST, Washington DC USA.
2 bombs exploded after 9pm [UTC+8], Davao City, Philippines. No one died.
I arrived for a workshop Tuesday morning and was told by a fellow participant that two bombs exploded in Davao City malls on Monday night. I quickly looked up the news and saw the details, that a mall that’s fairly near our house (though we hardly ever go there, in my mind it’s often my “second choice” mall close by) and a mall that I passed by on my way to the workshop both had an IED explode in their last movie showing of the night in their cinemas. This was a surprise, and felt “close to home.” Just on Monday, our supervisor was recommending that we “lay low” for the next week or two because of the instability in the island. (see previous note on the Zamboanga crisis, which has continued since my post and correction that no ceasefire has been declared – increasing to over 80,000 displaced persons and dozens (perhaps around 100) people killed. Hostages are still being held even though over 100 have already been released since the beginning of the crisis.)
Later on, I was able to receive more information, hearing that the bombs were, due to their makeup, not intended to cause serious harm or damage. While no analysis is clear, some speculated that the bombs were more likely meant to distract from the ongoing attention in Manila about the pork barrel (elected officials using taxpayer’s money to filter through fake NGOs and get the money returned to them), then about being related to the Zamboanga violence. But again, no analysis is clear.
So I started processing this – what does it mean for me? Things still felt very normal, we participated in this planned workshop in the exact same way we would’ve done without any violence occurring. While I knew these bombs were close to my worlds, I still felt “safe,” and began to wonder about my reactions – whether I felt some level of “invincibility” or whether I just had a sense of knowing there’s not much you can do about these actions. Tuesday night I went home, passing right by one of the affected malls, and looked to see what the effects were. People were coming in and out of the mall as per usual; it didn’t look like anything had happened. It reminded me of my reflections on how “war” embeds itself in our daily realities (see earlier post).
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Tuesday afternoon I heard for the first time about the (Washington) DC shootings. I was immediately pained at the news. The loss of life is always painful. When I heard that the shootings took place on a navy base, I immediately was depressed at the underlying roots of violence that are spread through our military system and how we have yet to develop a supportive rehabilitating structure for those who have returned from war and service in the military. Still without knowing the facts, I was depressed at the interconnected web in the US that together seeds the potential for situations of mass violence that happen like the one on September 16 and so many others previous to it.
I was intrigued, also, with how for Mindanao, 2 bombs that explode in city malls (injuring a few but killing none) are part of an overall ongoing image of war/violence in the region, but how a shooting rampage of over a dozen victims is seen as an aberration in a land of peace. Shooting rampages in the US are not embedded in people’s realities as a part of daily life (though argument may be made that in violent pockets of the US, gang warfare and gun fights and violent deaths are part of the daily norm), whereas incidents of bombings and armed clashes in Mindanao are considered as part of the framework of life for many Mindanaoans.
I’m also intrigued by the pattern the media has developed in framing and responding to incidents of mass violence in the US. They splash headlines quickly of the tragedy, then as details unfold, they focus in two areas. One focus is on the suspect/perpetrator(s) and their life’s history – looking for signs of abnormality which may give cause for understanding a motive or likelihood for the violence. They interview family members, teachers, friends, people who will sometimes point to obscure references that could suggest the individual could be capable of this level of violence, other times asserting the “shock” that such violence could come from someone who seemed so “normal.” Often the media determines that the individual struggles from mental health issues of some variety, and questions the inability for the person’s mental illness to be better addressed (sometimes with the direction of blame going in many directions).
The second focus is on the innocent victims. Life stories emerge of these beautiful, lovely people, highlighting the tragedy that their life was cut short without any particular reason or explanation. The “shock” of their sudden and “senseless” death is highlighted through moving accounts of their lives and from their family members.
Sometimes, wider analysis is offered. Conversations about gun laws, security of facilities, and other contributing factors are considered.
One difference with Mindanao is that the focus on the perpetrator ends quickly once the person has been identified with their chosen political party, and sometimes no specific individual (or individuals) is named, but a political/armed group takes responsibility. Also since incidents of violence are unfortunately common, much less time is spent in getting down to the small details of the event, understanding motivations of the individual involved, creating montages of victims… reporting and analysis happens, but not much time is spent in the major media because inevitably other events will take front page news before long.
I’m not sure yet what these approaches suggest about our societies and responses to violence, needs for humanization, approaches to responding to trauma, needs for healing … but I do note the patterns – especially those emerging in the US with what appears to be a newly set matrix to put such events in perspective for the general public.
It happens every time.
You’re a go-and-get shopper.
You enter stores with purpose, an agenda, and while you may allow distraction, you generally come and go quickly. You don’t find a lot of “soul” or “spirit” or “comfort” in stores, so they’re more like a necessary evil in your life.
You may pause in the grocery aisle to compare which container will provide the cheapest option for the most nutritious value – this one is cheaper but has MSG, that one is bigger but has no price, this looks great except it has hydrogenated ingredients…but it would be too much to suggest that it’s akin to meditation. More like calculus.
But most of the time, you enter the store on your way home from work as it’s en route, and therefore you’re anxious to get the few items you need and head home. But it’s always the same.
The store is in a new design (it’s under renovation). Every single day, new aisles appear out of nowhere, and new walls stop you in your tracks. One week the shampoo was on one end of the store, this time it’s hidden around a corner you hadn’t seen before. So regardless of your attempt to spend short periods of time, you’re stuck hunting the aisles for the same 3 things you get each week.
And you’re battling major crowds. All of Davao has done the same thing as you – gone to pick up their evening groceries. But you feel confident in your speed, darting between people, and only occasionally being stopped by a wandering child or slow-moving elder.
Once you’ve finally located your items, you breathe a sigh of relief and head to the lines to pay.
And oh the lines! Can it be true! While you just mastered the feat of a lifetime – navigating a store with completely rearranged aisles, locating your three items in record efficient manner, and making it to the line in less than 10 minutes, you now arrive at what seems improbable. Dozens of lines all backed up with at least 5 people in each. And all you have is a small basket, but you stand in line with the dozens of people with small baskets, in fact at least half the shoppers only have a small basket. But they fill their baskets with a week’s worth of groceries, just so that they can go through the baskets-only line. Whereas you have no escape with your three items.
Here you have a choice. The obvious choice is to sigh deeply, look anxiously for a sign that another line will go faster (a worldwide phenomenon that never, ever works in your favor if you switch lines), tap your feet, and allow small rivers of anger to rise up inside of you, frustrated that you are forced to spend another 10 minutes just waiting in line to pay, when you could walk promptly out the door. Not least that currently you really should be doing that, because you’re not supposed to spend much time in public spaces as a foreigner with your current status as wanted target in this near-warring land. And this is not to mention the additional 5 minutes you have to wait while the bagger bags your goods – in their special Philippine store way – in a plastic bag with a piece of cardboard as a base (ingenious actually), folded over top and with your receipt stapled to your bag, thereby rendering your bag useless for reuse because inevitably you will rip massive holes in your bag attempting to remove the receipt.
But it is here I suggest another choice: meditation.
Breathe in and out deeply. Allow your anxieties to melt. Because here you are forced into a world beyond your control. You cannot make the line go faster. You will not be able to choose a faster line. If you don’t want to abandon your mission, or your goods, than this is your place in the world for this moment. Set your basket at your feet, stand solidly on the ground, let your hands drop to their sides and relax. This is your place for this moment. Breathe in and out. This is life.
Update from previous post… sadly, no ceasefire has actually been declared yet.
Guns not silenced; civil society pushes for ‘humanitarian ceasefire’.
I’ve never lived in a “war zone.” There are plenty of accurate comparisons of life in the US, especially in urban and poverty-ridden areas, as life in war, but I haven’t spent a lot of time in those places and it’s still not the same as organized forces fighting against a government.
So what does it look like? From countless images of wars, I expect to see military personnel in combat gear with rifles and the rest, marching along the streets, looking menacing to passers-by. Even the occasional bodies on the street. I expect to either see chaos or emptiness. I expect to “see” the war and violence.
On my way to another town in Mindanao about 4 hours away, we passed through an area which was notorious for violence and was an epicenter of conflict during the war(s). As we drove through, it looked like any other provincial town in the Philippines, with people and shops, and “normal life” happening. What did I expect to see? Bullet-attacked walls? Bomb-destructed homes and buildings? (Both of which I saw when visiting Serbia and the former Yugoslavia) People marching with weapons? (Of course, in Davao City, bank and building guards carry guns, sometimes even AK-47s, so it’s not as if “normal life” here is without weapons.) I traveled through the southern areas of Mindanao, through areas where the NPA (communist army) is active, though I remained in the coastal areas and avoided the “inner” part of the provinces. If you didn’t know that NPA was active in the area, I’m not sure if there are many signs that would suggest it’s an occasional location for violence. On the contrary, the beautiful nature conjured up images of “Paradise” – except it wasn’t over-glamorized postcards or magazine covers, but reality.
Living in Davao, we’re a good 8 hours (I’m guessing) drive from the attack/siege/rebellion/war/violence that has been occurring in Zamboanga City and area. The latest count puts it at around 30,000 displaced people, references at times to 80-200 hostages, 30 human shields…it’s hard to count for sure. It began Sunday night/Monday morning and continued through Friday. Each day, I expected to hear that things had settled. They hadn’t. On Tuesday, CRS staff still took their normal routes to the field. By Wednesday, several had returned because of bans by the organization to travel on certain roads, etc. By Thursday, I was thinking, surely this will end soon. On Friday, renewed violence broke out (beyond the previous recorded numbers), and emergency notices from the US State Department were warning about specific targeting against foreigners (I’m unsure if this is directly related to Zamboanga or not). I began to wonder, when do you shift your thinking from thinking “this is horrible, but it will end soon” to preparing oneself for a long-term onslaught of violence?
Thankfully, Saturday morning, a ceasefire was declared. What the ceasefire means, and what the future holds is far from certain. Nevertheless, I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that this could mean the thousands of displaced people could slowly return, and that those caught – literally – in the cross-fire may be released from their terror.
And this is all in the context of a country that is in the middle (and even towards the end) of peace negotiations. The Philippines, and Mindanao specifically, has been enjoying a time of relative peace since the negotiations have been happening between the MILF and the government. But in that time, there’s been plenty of occurrences of bombs, gun fights, kidnappings, targeted anti-military attacks, and more. There are at least 5 “main” organized fighting groups (with many more factions and smaller criminal groups), some of which have peace agreements, but several do not.
People live through wars. And that doesn’t just mean sheltering in a home that luckily avoids the gunshots or bombs. It does mean that, sometimes. But it also means finding food and groceries, going to school (or not), and often still working. When I visited Colombia, “war” was ongoing, though you could barely feel it in the capital as the activity happened in more rural areas. People drove, shopped, ate, danced, and went about their lives as you would expect they would in a time of peace. Wars don’t happen in a neatly contained time and place. They’re spread out, indiscernible from beginning to end, meld themselves into the fabric of daily life, perpetrated by brothers and sisters, friends, enemies, big G governments, and foreign infiltrations of hatred, greed, and resources. They’re explained and reported by rumors, phone calls (and texts), and official media. They happen around the corner, in your friend’s home town, and on the other side of the country. It happens to “them,” but it also happens to “us.”
What does war look like?
… What does peace look like?
p.s. I’m aware I write here of “war,” despite the fact that no one in Mindanao has referred to the latest violence in Zamboanga as “war.” It’s a fire-fight, a clash, an eruption of the heat that boils so closely beneath the surface in Mindanao. While the violence is serious, I’m playing a bit with the word “war” because of its exaggeration, ubiquitous use, and simplified definitions that pervade countries like the US where our wars are fought on others’ soils. If you haven’t lived through war, chances are, the Picture of War is simplified and contained, very specific and repeated – no matter the context.
p.p.s. Not to be simplistic, but war also looks like Syria.
Images from a weekend in Surigao del Sur, Mindanao, Philippines. Highlights include beaches in Cantilan, Cagwait, and Lianga, Britannia Group of Islands, Tinuy’an Falls, and Enchanted River.
justkalinaw 