AFTER THE LOCKDOWN WHAT?

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

The first extension of the lockdown is about to end by April 30. Yet, it could not be ascertained if a second extension would be necessary. This is an unsettled issue within the Duterte administration.

The dynamics within the largely dysfunctional government has been upsetting, to say the least. At the one end, Sonny Dominguez, the chief revenue guy, was said to have been arguing for another lockdown extension until mid-May, saying the government has sufficient funds to subsidize the requirements of the majority – the poor.

Dominguez was said to have favored a second lockdown extension mainly to avoid a “second strike,” a concept similar to a relapse when new outbreaks among the local population occur to trigger a new and longer lockdown.

But Dominguez was said to have favored the reopening of the national economy after the second lockdown extension provided that it would have to be gradual. He has proposed of another round of increasing the excise taxes on cigarettes, beer, and alcoholic drinks to finance the lockdown, but his proposal has been rebuffed in the Cabinet.

On the other end, certain Cabinet members who have gravitated to Ernesto Pernia, the economic planning secretary who resigned earlier, wanted to jumpstart the Philippine economy by end-April to bring back its usual vigor and dynamism.

DILG Secretary Ed Ano was said to have joined Pernia, as he insisted that a second local extension would not be sustainable. There are views that extending the lockdown would greatly affect he poor and downtrodden. They will die of hunger, not the dreaded virus, a source said.

The dynamics of debates could not lead to anything concrete on policy decisions because of two essential unresolved issues:

1. The lack of reliable baseline data that could be used for policy-making; and
2. The failure of the national health system to contain the spread of the China-Duterte Virus.

Because of the two factors, the administration of the sick crazy old man has yet to come out with a national emergency action program to combat the dreaded virus.

The Inter-Agency Task Force to Combat Emerging Infectious Diseases (IATF), composed of five retired military generals, has yet to fulfill its mandate to serve as the crisis committee of sort on the development of the emergency program that has to be pursued on a nationwide scale.

According to another source, the daily count of the Department of Health hardly provides the overall picture that could be used for developing the national action program. It could not be ascertained whether current efforts have somehow “flattened the curve” on the basis of the DoH data, the source sid.

The national action program includes the curative aspect where victims are segregated from the population and treated during the lockdown period. It also includes to the rehabilitation aspect in the post-lockdown era. It could include community programs mainly to bring back normalcy to affected communities.

But what nags the issue of a national action program is DoH’s inability to contain the disease and use the DoH organization to nip it in the bud. It could not provide the essential requirements like PPEs and other equipment for the frontline medical workers.The inability of the DoH to conduct and facilitate mass testing is another unresolved issue.

It has been claimed the DoH suffers from poor leadership and lack of foresight. Francisco Duque III is notorious for incompetence. He is described the weak link in the current lockdown program.

So what will happen after the lockdown?

Even the top officials are lost and confused. The sick crazy old man could not even comprehend the extent of the crisis. This is a question that would remain a question for the coming days. In the absence of reliable official data, they have to be play it by ear, or gut feel.

WHAT MARTIAL LAW?

By Philip M. Lustre Jr. 

SINCE yesterday, I have been receiving the purported “leaked memo” from the PAF re martial law. Since I did not open it, I did not know its contents. I was not even sure how I would describe the leaked memo (why “leaked, I truly don’t know, but that was how they added mystique to a simple piece of paper).

I told several netizen-friends, who shared on separate occasions the memo to me, that I, in no uncertain terms, refused to dignify that piece of paper. Why should I? The 1987 Constitution is clear on the grounds for martial law. The incumbent president can only declare martial law on two major grounds: lawlessness and amed invasion or rebellion. Neither of the two conditions exists. Moreover, the Constitution does no mention any epidemic or pandemic as ground for martial law. Why martial law declaration?

Those pictures showing Filipino people going out despite the lockdown were fake news. They were taken before the pandemic. My lady friend Nangni clearly pointed out in a vigorous exchanges of PMs that it was near to impossible for those people to mill around those public markets. Bolstering their fake nature, Nangni pointed out the sheer number of soldiers and police officers who have put checkpoints and other barricades to minimize mobility of the people they have sworn to serve.

Granting that those picture were authentic, it could be argued too that the people were not resorting to lawless violence. These people were buying foodstuffs to feed their hungry families. What’s wrong with feeding their families? They should be admired instead for their determination to feed their families in these trying times.

Moreover, I don’t want to engage in some sterile discussions. The lockdown is about to end by the end of April. Somehow, we have to resume our normal activity. We have to break those barricades and checkpoints to show a semblance of normalcy. The overwhelming show of police and military power would have to end.

Hence, the stupid use of military and police solution to an essentially a major health issue would have to end or minimize. The police and military institutions would have to take a backseat. It could be surmised the discussions on martial law declaration were their way to confer some relevance in a post-lockdown era.

Below is the constitutional provision on grounds for martial law declaration.

ARTICLE 7, SECTION 18. The President shall be the Commander-in-Chief of all armed forces of the Philippines and whenever it becomes necessary, he may call out such armed forces to prevent or suppress lawless violence, invasion or rebellion. In case of invasion or rebellion, when the public safety requires it, he may, for a period not exceeding sixty days, suspend the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus or place the Philippines or any part thereof under martial law. Within forty-eight hours from the proclamation of martial law or the suspension of the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus, the President shall submit a report in person or in writing to the Congress. The Congress, voting jointly, by a vote of at least a majority of all its Members in regular or special session, may revoke such proclamation or suspension, which revocation shall not be set aside by the President. Upon the initiative of the President, the Congress may, in the same manner, extend such proclamation or suspension for a period to be determined by the Congress, if the invasion or rebellion shall persist and public safety requires it.

NEW WORDS IN THE TIME OF COVID-19

By Philip M. Lustre Jr. 

THE pandemic caused by the novel coronavirus Covid-19 has led to the emergence of new words and phrases to reflect a new emerging subculture, or a culture within a culture. These words and phrases are used within the context of the pandemic.

“Social distancing” tops the list. It means keeping a distance of two meters or more away from the next person to avoid viral contamination. “Physical distancing” is used as its equivalent.

“Invisible enemy” refers to the unseen virus. “Flatten the curve” is the immediate objective of any program or action plan to combat the pandemic. This phrase refers to the eventual decline of infected persons as shown on the graph.

The standard Merriam-Webster dictionary defines “quarantine” as “state of enforced isolation,” but when applied to the isolation of a specific community, the phrase is “communty quarantine.” When additional measures are being imposed, the phrase becomes “enhanced community quarantine.”

When a persons suspects he has symptoms of the destructive virus, he goes into “self-quarantine,” a situation of forced personal isolation for at least 14 days. When interpersed with some contacts and modifications, it is called “modified self-quarantine.” When pursued at home, it is “home quarantine.

“Lockdown” is the emergency protocol to prevent people from leaving an area, or community. It could be total or partial. When applied in the pandemic, total lockdown has been pusued for the mass quarantine, or complete isolation of a specific number of people.

Lockdown is pursued within a specific period of time. The period beyond its due date becomes “lockdown extension.”

The pandemic has altered the people’s behavior worldwide. The work place is an example. Many workers engage in what is called “work at home,” even as they receive “stay-at-home orders” from their superiors.

Anybody suspected of being infected of the dreaded virus is a “person under investigation,” or PUI. When his previous social contacts are being traced, he becomes a “person under monitoring,” or PUM.

Google defines curfew as “regulation requiring people to remain indoors between specified hours, typically at night.” But the pandemic has given rise to an ugly variant: “24-hour curfew,” which means people in a community should stay indoor for the entire day.

Those medical workers – doctors, nurses, lab technicians, assistants, and orderlies – who attend to Covid-19 patents are aptly called “frontline medical workers.” Since they put their lives on the line, they are described as “war heroes against Covid-19.”

Persons who are Covid-19 positive but keep on going out without respect to the safety protocols are called “VIPs,” but it does not mean the traditional “very important persons.” On the contrary, it means “very irresponsible persons.”

When an VIP named Koko Pimentel was diagnosed Covid 19-positive, many netizens gave him the sarcastic advice: “Stay positive.”  No, they did not mean that Koko stays mentally positive. Your guess is as good as the guess of anybody else.

‘Protect Vico” is the new phrase for an outstanding character in the fight against the virus. This is the 29-year old Vico Sotto, mayor of Pasig City.

MY COVENANT WITH GOD

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

BECAUSE of the unforeseen pandemic and lockdown, I had celebrated my 66th birthday without fanfare. But I’ve made it a point to pray hard and renew my earlier covenant with God, which is to dedicate the rest of my life to the cause of freedom and democracy in our country. That I would use my pen to write and communicate with our people to strengthen democracy and freedom in our country.

I am an old man, although I would insist I am healthy and energetic to advance the cause of freedom and democracy in our country. This is committed journalism for you, dear fellow netizens. I would join other advocates for freedom and democracy, good governance, and clean government. This is part of my covenant.

I am most grateful to the people who have greeted me. Thank you.

Over 1,000 friends, actual and virtual have greeted me on my natal day. Relatives from my mother and father sides, visible and long-lost, mostly younger than me, have posted birthday greetings. High school batchmates and co-alumni, and even contemporaries from the other high schools, here and abroad, have come to greet me too. Of course, It would be incomplete without mentioning my college contemporaries and friends, again here and abroad, have sent their greetings and best wishes.

I have received greetings and wishes from people whom I broke bread and toasted with bottles of beer and glasses of wine and other liquor (I've been a hard-drinking journalist all my life). Public officials, past and present, business executives, and professionals from the journalism community and other fields of endeavor are among my coterie of friends I have developed since I started walking on this planet. There were also a number of teenage friends and acquaintances with whom I shared secrets, among other things. Even my ex-gfs were around to greet me. A big number are virtual friends, or FB friends, with whom I've shared beliefs and advocacy. They are a bunch of wonderful people.

Their messages are most outstanding, reassuring, and reinvigorating. They are full of humor – divine and humanly. Some guys assuage my feeling of combined inadequacy and insecurity as I reach old age. 66? "Ah, numero lang iyan," said a netizen friend. "Bata ka pa," said another. Bata pa nga ba ako? I mused to myself. My back aches a lot, I must confess. Some friends thanked me for my "sacrifices." I began to wonder if I deserve those words, although a lawmaker friend noted I have stood in the fight when I should be relaxing at this stage in my life.

Quite a number of friends, particularly my regular readers, have egged me to continue the fight through my writings. I am no public official, albeit an elective one. I’m not elected to do the hard work, so to speak. But those words of encouragement could also be viewed as sort of mandate to complement what I strongly believe the mandate from Heaven. I see no way of saying no.

It's noteworthy to say that at 66, I still harbor existential questions. What's the point of standing out there when I could do some other things to the extent of having a more pleasure-oriented or epicurean lifestyle? That I would be standing there like an angry young man I was once four or five decades ago could baffle the peace in me.

We are all governed by our sense of values. We pursue our values. Hence, the answer is simple. I want to be with God. I want to be at peace with my God. That I would do things for the least of my brothers and sisters has always been the answer. That has always been part of my values.

Today at 66, I dedicate the rest of my life to freedom and democracy. I seek to enhance my committed journalism to the cause of our people. I seek to make my life more meaningful. I am with you, guys... Maraming salamat sa mga pagbati at papuri...

'TAMBALOSLOS’

By Philip M. Lustre Jr.

(N.B. I've never encountered a single native word that been subjected to a thorough conceptual analysis. Whew!)

IN my youthful days, my late grandmother, a pure Pampaguena, scolded me for being haughty, naughty, and hyperactive. She used the pejorative word "saligawsaw," whenever I went out of bounds.

Being old school, Lola Felisa was a stickler to decorum, or else she would castigate me using that single Pampango word.

Ilocanos have an equivalent of that word. Kids, who have the propensity for lies and hyperactivity are called "salawasaw." The two words sound so similar. I have been a little fascinated to find out their equivalent in other dialects.

While in a taxicab in Davao City six years ago, I heard over the radio a commentator, who described and lambasted a bunch of truant local public officials there as "tambaloslos."

I immediately asked the driver about its meaning. Lo and behold, it was no different from the two pejorative words I have described. That word sounded fascinating for a Manileno like me.

I posted my impressions about that word in social media, particularly Facebook, and I got plenty of replies. Indeed, that word is part of the Visayan folklore.

From a high school batchmate: “Tambaloslos means naughty, haughty and hyperactive. You always have it with you: punishment andr aching wounds! Tambal goes together with, as in "katambal;” “los” is short for hambalos or punishment and the second “los” is “galos” or wounds.”

Another netizen said: “Tambaloslos is someone who is good for nothing.”

A netizen friend said that word is a Visayan word for a “super large penis,” but it also refers to a person, who is considered "worthless."

A seemingly angry netizen said: “You’re a pr*ck" in Bisaya "Tambaloslos ka"

A netizen, who claimed to be an Ilocano, digressed from the issue, saying "salawasaw" is one who “habitually utter, or speak foul words." It is the same as “bastos" in Tagalog.

Two Ilonggo netizens likewise digressed to offer the equivalent words in Hiligaynon. A netizen said Ilonggos tag a worthless person as “sariwa-ol," while another netizen said hyperactivity is "palakan," which is derived from word "palak," or unreasonable activity.

Other netizens had varying explanation of the “tambaloslos.” A netizen said: “Tambaloslos is a supernatural being who when you are walking alone in the wilderness makes you lose your way and then try to eat you. It will first peel itself begining from his lips all the way down until its skin is inside out. Such scary sight will surely make you lose your mind and that's when he starts to eat you.”

He continued: “The antidote to that sir if you can remember first before he eats you is by turning your clothes inside out fast before he does with his skin. And don't turn your clothes inside out again until you find your way home or your intended destination.”

Another netizen said: “Tambaloslos in Bikol folklore is a mythical creature whose main characteristic is a wide mouth that stretches from ear to ear and very thick lips that measures 2-3 inches (yes, somebody must have been crazy enough to measure with a ruler just to be exact).”

This supernatural being could be called “sarawayon” in Bicolano, another netizen said in a rejoinder. Or it could be likened to a “kapre” in Tagalog folklore, another netizen chimed in.

Another explanation by a netizen: Tambaloslos, in some sense, can be understood generally as "bayag mo, (your testicle).”

It appears this word has several meaning in the pejorative sense. It is even part of the Visayan folklore. 

'FIRST LADY' OR 'LABSKY'

By Philip M. Lustre Jr. 

IT was a quiet 2017 post on Facebook that sought the netizens’ opinion on how Honey Avancena, the presidential live-in partner, would be appropriately addressed. I didn’t know my post would stir a hornet’s nest, when a plethora of varied opinions came in to form the thread of my post.

Since Ms. Avancena has been visible in several state functions and since she has become the private nurse of the ailing but moody Rodrigo Duterte, I felt it would apt to discuss on what title she would carry. Calling her first lady would be inappropriate since the whole world knows that she and Duterte are not legally married.

Calling her the presidential common-law wife sounds grinding to the ears. Lawyer Lorna Kapunan earlier explained before a court of law that a common-law wife does not exist. It's fiction. It’s a mere euphemism for a mistress, or paramour. This was something I said on the thread of my earlier post.

Since I wrote the post, I had the first crack to give my opinion. I prefer to call her “presidential companion.” It sounds neutral and does not carry any burden. Other netizens suggest other titles. Eunice Barbara Novio, a Thailand-based writer and teacher, prefers “presidential consort,” which is also acceptable.

Columnist Mackoy Villaroman, blogger and opinion writer Belinda Olivares Cunanan, Dr. Emmanuel Lallana, a UP-based academic, and journalist Michael Alunan suggest separately the official title of “presidential partner.”

Philippine Daily Inquirer features writer Cathy Canares-Yamsuan proposes “de facto first lady,” citing the case of Valerie Trierweller who was called by French media by that title when she was living with President Francois Hollande.

But other came out with amusing titles, mostly irreverent. Writer Beting Dolor Laygo gives the title of “first mistress,” while writer and journalism teacher Mike Suarez proposes “presidential mistress,” which he justifies by taking mistress in its proper context, not the pejorative one we know today.

Netizen Eduardo del Rosario Jr. prefers “presidential live-in partner.” At least four netizens, including Marivic Agbayani, suggest “presidential jowa,” which sounds unappealing to the ears. High school batch mate Cecile Agobian mentions “presidential querida,” which means beloved in Portuguese.

Then, the purist, or prudish, give what appear to be mere alliterative rants: “kabit,” “kerida,” “kalunya,” “kulasisi,” and “kalapati” – words all starting with the letter k. They are too extreme, I told myself. A lawyer friend uses the phrase “toy girl.” No, please.

Others give amusing titles. Hataw publisher proposes “presidential love”; netizen and photography buff Chinggoy Castro, “significant other’; desk editor Julie Javellana Santos, “presidential concubine,” and Sybil Jane Pena, a medical doctor, “second lady.”

Netizen Marivic Agbayani proposes a nickname for her – “Messy,” which is a takeoff from “Missy,” the nickname of Lucy Mercer, US President Franklin Roosevelt’s social secretary and alleged lover. Missy served as hostess in the White House in the absence of first lady Eleanor Roosevelt.

Former bureaucrat Demaree Raval gives “current housemate,” writer Teddy Montelibano, “presidential syota”; high school batchmate Jun Sibug, “presidential kibitzer”; Ed Zafra, “first lady-in-waiting”; Evelyn Grimares Gonzales, “domestic partner”; Ivy Lisa Mendoza, “pambansang Kabitenya”; and Ernest Famatigan, “ex-future first lady.”

Jun Urbano, popularly known as Mr. Shooli,” could not help but express his compassion for Ms. Avancena, saying she does not deserves those negative comments. “But that goes with the territory,” he says.

For my part, I could not help but get a little humorous. I see humor as a weapon to keep my sanity intact in these trying times. I am about to change my mind, as I now prefer to call her a title proposed by witty People Journal’s columnist Mario Fetalino: “Labsky.”

But a lady friend cautions me that it’s a title that does not sound funny at all. It sounds as if she is a crossbreed of Labrador and Japanese Spitz dogs. There, it goes.

‘DALAW’, 'SUNDO’, ‘HATID’

By Philip Lustre Jr. 

NO, we did not have those cell phones, PCs, tablets and other gadgets to profess our undying love and affection to women of our choice. We did not have those social networking sites and other platforms to communicate unlike today.

Neither did we have those text messages using those nauseating text language and jejemonic mambo-jambos to express man’s noblest value - love. But we were imaginative during our days. That had made a lot of difference during our younger days, which were more than four or five decades ago.

Courtship during our younger days had followed certain set of rules unlike today. It had relied mainly on direct interpersonal relations and interaction. Because telephone lines were few, direct person-to-person communications was the preferred mode of courtship. But it was never easy. It was difficult, to say the least.

The rule was simple: if you wanted to win a young woman's heart and become your girlfriend, wife or whatever, you had to find ways to introduce yourself, gain her trust and confidence, and take your chances to get her sweet yes. Again, this was not easy. It was tedious and laborious.

I remember resorting to the usual “dalaw,” or regular visits to my first girlfriend. It was in the summer of 1968, when I introduced myself to a comely neighbor, who lived a dozen houses away from us in the busy street of Asuncion in Tondo.

She was tall and bosomy for her age; she had glistening brown skin and a pair of smiling eyes. But it did not stop the swagger in me to introduce myself to her. I was only 14, but I felt confident to own the world since I was already cut and had my own bleeding rite three summers ago.

Immediately after my self-introduction, I visited her almost daily at their house. Her parents were not around because of work, but her older siblings allowed my presence – or intrusion. They seemed to like me. I remember taking a bath and combing my hair before my daily visits.

Then, I wore my clothes as if I was a grownup man, or “binatang taring” as the old Tagalogs would say. Because, I did not have many clothes during those days, I wore my white polo shirts, which I also used as school uniforms. In hindsight, I looked like a choir boy, a perfect look to win a young woman's heart.

It was a brief summer fling, a case of momentary infatuation or “puppy love” that was not meant to become a full-blown romance. The heavy school workloads took a toll on us; we got busy and never resumed contact. We both did not have telephones at home, which could be a factor for the loss of love.

We have long left the place to settle elsewhere. But when I visited my relatives there nearly a decade ago, I saw my puppy love, a public school teacher, walking on the street to go home. No, she did not look paradoric or ballenic (or scandalously fat); she was slim with her bright brown skin. But she was tagging along two little kids, whom, I was told, were her grandkids. She is now a full-pledged lola, or grandma.

I was 16 and in fourth year high school when I started doing regular “dalaw” to my first love, a young lady, who was a trophy by all standards. I met her in late November, 1970 in a dance party at the house of a common friend In Quezon City, introduced myself, and formed a one-man barricade (or "bakod") – composed of me – on her. It was a glorious conquest, as I was the only guy whom she danced all night to her discomfiture and the other guys’.

I did the “ligaw Intsik” (Chinese courtship), arriving at 2 pm every Sunday only to leave their house in a middle class subdivision in Quezon City by dinner time, or 7 pm. Because of my persistence, she rewarded me with her sweet yes. But it was a romance that was not meant for us. The lure of political activism did not escape me; “Inang Bayan” had snatched me from her.

There were no bitter fights or recriminations between us; ours was a case of two people on wrong pages. We parted ways with regrets in my heart. She is now a registered nurse in the United States.

It took me sometime to court some ladies. But I usually went out with friends visiting some ladies in certain dormitories in the University Belt area. Later, I learned to make “sundo,” or fetching, where I took some lady friends to certain destinations, usually schools or homes. They were perfect occasions for conversations.

But communications were problematic during those days. We hardly had sufficient telephone lines; there were no cps or any of those things unlike today. Hence, there were no subsequent followups.Making appointments was difficult too.

Hence, I always ended up as “na-indiyan” (when the lady did not appear), or “nang-indiyan” (when I did not appear). There were also times when "parehong nang-indiyan" (neither appeared); it was technically a draw.

Later, I wondered why we use the term “indiyan” for the irresponsible habit of non-appearance on appointed time and place. The Indians did no wrong to us.

“Hatid,” or literally to take her home, was my strategy to show my interest to a damsel, who was not necessarily in distress. It was a perfect way to communicate with her.

Since I usually took night classes in college, I did this strategy with scintillating success, as I took home my classmates, who were objects of my interest. For them, I was “nagmamagandang loob,” but I was a vulture with an ulterior motive.

Doing "hatid" was a perfect opportunity to communicate what was inside a man's heart. But it also had its pitfalls. One time, I made "hatid" to one of the school librarians, who took notice of me because of my studious ways (laman ng library).

It was 6 pm, when her shift ended, but we detoured to land at St. Jude's Church, where we attended a novena and smelled burning incense. It became a practice every Thursday for the next four or five weeks. I kidded her that it was fine with me so long as we did not go to Baclaran.

"I was planning that we go there," she said. "Huwag," I told her. "Bakit?" she asked. "Baka tayo lumampas sa langit," I said in jest. I could not imagine attending two different novenas on two consecutive days every week.

One time, I took her home only to be greeted by her three brothers, who were having a drinking spree. They harassed me by asking my intention on their sister. I said I had no bad intention, which they did not believe anyway. It was the last time I saw her.

A few months later, I was told that she had married a drug detailman of uncommon ugliness. Whether they live happily ever after or not is something I do not know until now.

Comparing my personal experience with modern-day courtship, I could say that nothing beats personal interaction. All those person-to-person talks and conversations remain incomparable because of their intimacy and passion.

I still favor and prefer the old fashioned ways. I am old school. I rest my case.