Pirates beware

Yesterday, I posted my Quiapo lakwatcha last June 12. Today, I read from an online newspaper that government agencies have destroyed P10M-worth of pirated products, including DVDs.

The crackdown for pirates continues, as evinced by statements of government officials. They say that the government loses five percent of its tax collection to pirates who do not pay tariffs and taxes. Plus, they suddenly found another rhetoric to the piracy problem: our [government officials] role is to defend our space where ideas, solutions, new business and opportunity can grow and flourish to everyone’s greater benefit. Yet this space is constantly encroached upon by those who would take and not give....


Obviously, they are oversimplifying the issue. The government wants to talk about defending a mythical space, but in the first place, are they helping to create these spaces? Are they nurturing local businesses and creative thinkers? Defending it implies that it already exists; maybe it does, but only a few have access to it. The government wants to talk about space for flourishing business opportunities, but the taxes will suck the businesses dry even before they start making money. And where do our taxes go? Ask Noriel Jarito, an independent filmmaker, who made a film with that title.

Another point: when a certain government official said that the "space is constantly encroached upon by those who would take and not give...," I honestly think that this statement is applicable to both the pirates and more so to the corrupt government officials. Since we are in the mood of oversimplifying things, we can say that the government pursues these pirates because the billions of pesos lost by the government due to these illegal activities is really a lost by government officials--okay, maybe not all of it.

Last point: the issue of piracy is an issue of copyright or intellectual property rights that favor mostly Western companies and products, or those local companies whose structure and operations follow the Western way of doing business. If you read on GATTS, WTO and TRIPs, you will realize that the concepts of copyright and IPR are working against our local scientists and artists because it is still an arena where the Western power dominates and dictates the rules of the game. And if you want to question this order of things, to show distrust to the government and question their inefficiencies and distorted logic, you may want to start with the stalls in Quiapo.

Surreal Saturdate*

There should have been nothing special with the free ride in LRT and MRT two Saturdays ago except that it was in celebration of our Independence Day, but to free ride with someone who I haven’t seen for almost a year and whom I have been waiting to see for almost a year, it was surreally special.

The plan was to go to Quiapo for some DVD hunting. The easiest route from where we were was to ride a jeepney bound to Quiapo, but no, we rode the MRT from end to end—SM North to Edsa Taft—then transferred to the LRT line and got off at Carriedo station. Good thing that it was still early morning and that it was a Saturday, which means that there were relatively fewer passengers because there was no work (We all know how the trains transform into cans of sardines during weekdays at almost any time of the day, but most especially during rush hours.).

From Carriedo station, it was a walkathon to the mecca of DVD that is Hidalgo Street. But we had a stopover at a fast food chain to eat breakfast (and for En--the one I’ve been waiting for--to trim his beard. I know. It’s weird) and a detour at Meyer’s to check for DSLR camera prices. After we realized that it was too early a morning to spend thousands of money for a DSLR cam, we headed to the underpass to go to Hidalgo. As always, vendors lined up in the underpass with their wares. The little toys bouncing with colorful lights caught En’s attention. He wanted to buy one for his favorite nephew, Seraf, but he seemed to be saving his first purchase for DVDs.

Finally, we emerged from the underpass—unharmed and ‘un-snatched’— and we were greeted by the sight of vendors selling DVDs and just about everything you need. I love Quiapo!

We headed straight to our suki. When we arrived, we excitedly scanned the DVDs one by one. En, after a year without Quiapo, was like a child—wide-eyed and with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. Every time we found a treasure film, we would exclaim its title as if we were Archimedes who ran around naked shouting, Eureka!  (“Woooowww. Stagecoach!” “The Men Who Stare At Goats! Up in the Air!” Said En, who’s a George Clooney fanatic.).

After almost 30 minutes, the damage had been in thousands. Best DVD buy: 2010 Oscars Best Picture Nominees. Next time I go to my heaven on earth (which would be in a few weeks time), I would buy the Miyazaki anime collection with 16 DVDs at P60 each (you do the math).

We left Quiapo with our bags heavier with all that loot! Our Quiapo escapade did not end there though. We searched Raon for the cable converter I need and found one at a good price with a three-month warranty. Didn’t I say I love Quiapo? Before that though, we passed by the underpass again to get to Raon, and En couldn’t resist the bouncing, colorful toy and bought one. He also bought a rubber ducky (For Seraf. Or for him?).

For lunch, we binged on Chinese food at Wai-ying (we call it Wong Kar Wai-Ying because it resembles the set in some of the Chinese director’s films) in Benavidez Street near Recto. We haven’t eaten in that restaurant for a year, so we ate as if we haven’t eaten for a year! Ok, I’m exaggerating. Maybe three days. Good Chinese food as always, especially the Roasted Peking duck and Hakaw, shrimp dumpling. We had two orders of that and good thing I did not have an allergy attack. We swore that when we get back, we will order the P1, 100-worth whole Peking duck for a feast. Nobody knows when it will be, but it will be.

It was almost 2pm when we finished, and En had a 6pm flight going back to Iloilo (L). He still had to go to UP Diliman to get some of his things then head straight to the airport. The plan: from Recto, ride the LRT line 2 to Katipunan, ride a taxi to campus (to save time but not money), get things in five minutes, ride a taxi to MRT (but we rode a jeepney instead because he wanted to sit in front of the jeepney, beside the driver), free-ride in MRT from Quezon Ave. to Edsa-Taft (we said our goodbyes here), he, ride a taxi to airport and me, ride the MRT back to Cubao for Lakwatcha meeting and lakwatcha.

It was indeed a surreally special Saturday, and I hope I don’t have to wait for another year to experience it again.

*I first heard of the term ‘Saturdate’ from my friend, Thea Alberto.

*Photo of hakaw, shrimp dumpling, from http://forum.philboxing.com/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=129344&p=3329402

Moving Out, Moving On

Last night, I moved out of my studio apartment where I have holed up since 2008. When I moved in in that space, I was hesitant because it was the first time that I had no roommate or house mate. Ever since college, I have lived with friends, four, eight of them; then I lived independently when I was 24.


Living alone was lonely at first because you eat alone most of the time and you have no one to talk to, but, like any other kind of loneliness, you get used to it. The loneliness I felt turned to a quiet solitude, a relief from all the hustle and bustle of the world. My room was my little space where I can rest, think, lie down and stare at the (beautiful) ceiling, do nothing, write, watch films. It was home for me.


It was also home to En, who have stayed there for some time as well. When he left for the Visayas in 2009, Kuya Cesar (the caretaker) and some neighbors always asked about his whereabouts as if he were the tenant and not me. En told me he was sad that I was moving out and that he was not able to say goodbye to his home in LB. I am sad he was not able to say goodbye to his house in LB.


It was difficult and sad to leave that room, but I felt that I had to. One reason is practical--it was getting smaller and smaller for my things. The other is psychological/emotional--I felt stuck in that place. I was left there waiting, for a year now, and I felt I had to move (literally and metaphorically). So I moved out and hopefully move on.  


My new apartment (two-bedroom with a PhD house mate) is not really new since my friend used to live there, and I used to sleep over. Nonetheless, it is a new space where I'll do what I do (or what I haven't done before), a new space to be shared with a house mate and friends who visit and neighbor-friends living in the apartment above ours. Of course, sleepovers are allowed.   


Last night, after I brought all my things (which occupied the whole jeepney, with my bed on its roof) from that little apartment to my new apartment and had a housewarming with guests, I went back to the room and--I know, this might sound crazy--said goodbye even though I was already tired and it was already past midnight. I swept the room, inspected every corner, every cabinet (oh, how I love those cabinets!). It dawned on me that it was really bye bye time. Good thing Ponkan, a friend, was with me so I had to do it coolly. No crying uncontrollably--though I did not cry uncontrollably. 


But in my mind and heart, I did. I was saying goodbye not only to the room itself but to everything I experienced and will remember there, the neighbors, caretakers, owners, and the roommate who stayed for a while. Mostly the roommate who stayed for a while and whom I waited. 


After that trip, Ponkan and I went to 7-11 near our new apartment, and he bought me two sticks of ice cream before we headed home. It was a pleasant experience, and I do hope for the same living in my new apartment.   




* In the photo are Ponkan and moi taken during our volunteer work in Polillo Is. last May.