Dutch Election 2012: An Observation of a Season

Like a season that comes and goes, election must bring something new to our surrounding. The Dutch election, like no other season, was over with some hope for new things, and some more hope for a better future. That I was told, and that I would not know.

What I know was what I have observed in the past weeks leading to the September 12 election.

For precautionary measures, any observations are always coming from somewhere, a certain reference or basis of observations. In my case, it would be the Philippine context (what else but my country). But this is in no way a comparative presentation; nor an attempt to objectively cover the Dutch election. This is the 2012 Dutch election, in my observation.

Wooden bulletin boards of this size (2 x 3 meters) were strategically set-up in cities and municipalities to allow political parties to post their official campaign posters. Some posters have smiling faces of leaders, some simply have the name in the official color of the parties.

In the whole campaign period, I did not see any party officials roaming around Nijmegen.

And I saw this at the train station in Heyendaal, Nijmegen. Plain name and colors of the party, Groenlinks (GreenLeft), with the slogan, de tijd is nu (the time is now).

And this was near the Molenhoek train station. A picture of the leader of the Partij van de Arbeid (PvdA) or Labour Party with its slogan, Nederland sterker en socialer (Netherlands stronger and more social).

Then on election day (September 12), polling booths (stembureau) were put up in strategic public places such as train stations, schools, government buildings/offices, universities, club houses, canteens, and even houses.

In my university, Radboud University Nijmegen, the stembureau was set-up beside the refter (cafeteria). Students, faculty and staff could cast their votes right in their campus and workplaces. Well, it is because election in the Netherlands is not a holiday. It is a working day like any Wednesdays of a week.

Found this sign at the entrance of Erasmus building. No need for police to guard the polling booths and election observers to monitor the credibility of the election. No need. There was no report of election-related  violence either.

The results were known after several hours. There was no protest or objections regarding the election results. The winners celebrated, those who lost seats contemplated. The Dutch had spoken to their politicians; it was time to be responsive to them in a representative government.

While the people have chosen their leaders, the two biggest election winners (conservative-liberal Volkspartij voor Vrijheid en Democratie or VVD, and  PvdA or Labour Party) can start talking about forming a government. The talks may take months. Until then, a government comes around like a season where people hope new things when they know exactly what to expect.

Closer to home, An Maogmang Lugar - Naga City that gave us, Mayor Jess

Ituloy ang laban ni Ninoy at Cory!

(Continue the fight of Ninoy and Cory!)

I copied and pasted the last sentence of Jesse Robredo's blog about, coincidentally, the death of President Cory Aquino. It was three years ago, August 16, 2009. Unfortunately, it was also his last blog entry.

My old blog is one of the few blogs in his blogroll or bloglist. I got links from his blog. Of course, I felt elated by that inclusion.

I came to Naga City in the 1990s. Mayor Jess (there are positions that sound so natural before names; Mayor Jess is one of them) was the new mayor of the city. I witnessed the transformations of one of the cities of Bicol to a premier city of Southern Luzon. The changes were not only in the physical and economic improvements of the city; it was social and moral as well. The people, the Nagueńos, breathed and exemplified the positive changes happening in the city.

I came to Naga City as a student. The city was my best university (No offense to Ateneo de Naga University). Through Mayor Jess, I learned that ordinary peoples such as vendors, farmers, women, public transport drivers, youth, informal settlers, senior citizens, and other disadvantaged sectors, had to be part of governance because they were the primary actors of change. They are not merely constituents, they are active partners in the development of the city. Indeed, the city's people's council represents the sentiments, needs, aspirations, and vision of the city, an Maogmang Lugar (a happy place).

I stayed in Naga City as an NGO worker. It was easy to work for positive changes when the local government shared the tasks and mission of empowering the marginalized. Mayor Jess was always our first co-worker. Mayor Jess understood the role of the national government in the local development. In 2000 until the first month of 2001, he roused the Nagueńos to stand and rise up against corrupt practices at the national government. Naga City saw several of its biggest rallies in history in the span of four months (October 2000-January 2001). Mayor Jess symbolized the opposite of what we got rid in 2001. But the country mistakenly put a variation of the same in the old regime after 2001.

I left Naga City for studies elsewhere. Mayor Jess took a cabinet post as the Secretary of the Department of Interior and Local Government (DILG) in the national government. He became Secretary Jess and suited in the job. Who else could have been a better DILG secretary? Now, President Aquino is forced to answer the question and settle for a better DILG secretary (because the best is gone).

Now I am outside Naga City. The tragedy causes me to be even closer than ever to Naga City, the city that gave you and me, Mayor Jess. It is only proper that he goes home symbolically to Naga City, an Maogmang Lugar which he tried hardest to make it so. Somewhere, there is a true Maogmang Lugar, and that is his home now.

I would end to continue the last sentence of Mayor Jess' blog - Ituloy ang laban ni Ninoy, Cory at Jess.

We know what they fought for - para sa casaraditan - for "small" people, like you and me. They made us "big." And we won big. Let us not lose what we gained from and because of them. One big fight!

'Tay Jack: A kick to my life

Last August 7 (Tuesday), when I logged in to FB, I read one post stating that Jack Rombouts had passed away in the Philippines. Jack was to many a "Kuya Jack" or simply Jack to the Filipino community in Nijmegen-Molenhoek area in the Netherlands. For a few, he was "Tay Jack." And in Tagalog, it sounds like a kick ("tadyak").

That was what I felt when I read the first FB post referring to his sudden death. It was like a kick that would make me look at the culprit with surprise, shock, and questioning stare. And then minutes later, posts of the same news streamed. At that time, the kick carried some forceful weight that tagged me down. Down to the chest and exploded there. My body could hardly contain its intensity and violence inside me. I was aching for a release, to relinquish from the confined emotions weighing me down. My knees and legs gave up to the weight of the sudden loss, like a kick that was forceful and real.

Memories of him flashed.

A day before his departure from the Netherlands to the Philippines, I went with him and Ate Renna to Eindhoven to visit and have dinner with Beca and Richard. Tay Jack drove for more than an hour while Ate Renna and I were sharing stories. After a while, Ate Renna dozed off. I struggled to stay awake to keep Tay Jack a company, but I knew I lost my consciousness to dreamland for some brief moments. It was Tay Jack who did not waver in the task - to bring us to the destination safely.

Tay Jack was a steady presence in the activities of the Filipino community in the Nijmegen-Molenhoek area. I remember in the days leading to the Sinulog Festival in Molenhoek, Tay Jack was always there, supporting and helping his wife. He was very functional in the tasks before him. He simply did and delivered whatever he could do to facilitate the conduct of the event.

My first experience of snow was with him in 2010. He drove me from Molenhoek to Nijmegen for nearly an hour. We were stuck in a traffic jam because of tremendous snowfall. One of our topics was about marriage. At that time, I had just proposed with my then girlfriend, and now my wife. I asked Tay Jack, "how would you know whether or not a woman is right for you?" Tay Jack straightforwardly responded in this context, "when you met that woman with all the feelings, and you made a decision to have her in your life, the question whether she is right or not disappears. Your responsibility now is to make that decision work and to make that decision right. Do not depend on others to help you make it work and make it right. You have yourself and that woman."

Tay Jack was not able to meet "that" woman of my life. Surely now, he won't be able to in this world. But he left me a mark that was real, powerful and personal; like a kick to my life. I needed that.

Thank you, Tay Jack. Dank je wel. Dios mabalos po!

Summer Retreat in Wittem (Finding one's "way" and being a light for others to find their own "way")

As a foreign student in the Netherlands, I have become accustomed to the sentimental longing for a connection with the proverbial self. There is a sense of disconnectedness, a grappling of what is familiar and meaningful in life. It seems to be more than being away from the family and unable to express the voice within oneself.

The invitation for a three-day retreat was a welcome opportunity to get in touch with oneself and to let out that voice within. The retreat venue was a monastery, Arnold Janssen Klooster, in Wahlwiller-Wittem in Limburg province. The theme, How to be a faithful professional?, put the retreat in a perspective of graduate students with work experience as professionals.

From Nijmegen, I traveled by train and bus to the retreat venue with a South African participant from Radboud University for about two hours. As the train from Heyendaal station in Nijmegen moved, the passing sceneries and shrinking view of the landscapes of the city indicated that we were going away.

To get to the monastery, we needed to walk uphill on a winding road. When we reached the vicinity, a distinct certainty dawned that we were in the right place. As if to welcome us, the entrance door suddenly opened. Inside, a smiling nun led us to the dining hall where the retreat facilitators and participants were already having their lunch. The warm reception from the facilitators, participants, and sisters marked a positive impression in the beginning. We arrived around lunchtime, and so, food and its smell and sight made the two-hour trip truly worth it.

There was a diverse group of participants coming from 10 different countries, namely, Honduras, India, Indonesia, Lebanon, Philippines, Rwanda, South Africa, Tanzania, Uganda, and Zimbabwe. After a brief introduction, we were paired with another participant for a walk around the vicinity of the monastery with assigned points to share and discuss. We were to share the things we wanted to learn from and give to the retreat, our positive and negative experiences as a professional in our home country, and the meaning of retreat for us. We were allowed to walk by pairs around the area of Walhwiller-Wittem as long as we should get back to the venue at a specified time. The area was a huge plantation field dotted by few houses and
fenced ranches bordered along walking trails. The afternoon cool breeze accompanied our walk and exchanges of personal thoughts and experiences.

When we resumed, the pairs had quite a number of things to share to the whole group. The common expectation was to have a break from the rigors of studies. Meeting new people was also mentioned. Some participants shared their positive and negative experiences as a professional in their own countries.

A member of the Missionary Sisters-Servants of the Holy Spirit (SSpS) which is the host institution of the monastery shared to the group the history, missionary activities, and spirituality of the congregation. She also intimated her vocation story including her experiences in the Philippines as a missionary. Afterwards, an open discussion on issues such as the secularism in the Netherlands and the relationship between spirituality and sexuality followed. Sister Claudia pointed out that spirituality and sexuality are like two sides of one coin; they go together. She said that in the Book of Genesis, when God breathed to give life to humankind, our body became an instrument and expression of a spirituality.

The first day of retreat concluded with a French film, Of gods and men.

There was an opportunity to celebrate the Holy Eucharist with the sisters at the chapel in the morning the next day. Then, it was the turn of the guest speaker, Erik de Jongh, Ph.D., to talk about the theme of the retreat- How to be a faithful professional? He started with the previous night’s discussion on spirituality differentiating it with religion, although the two are interrelated. Every religion, be it monotheistic, theistic, or non-religious, has a spirituality that speaks about a "way." If one does not find a way, s/he gets lost. If one does not have a way to follow, s/he is not going anywhere. He stressed the importance of knowing clearly this way or pursuing to know a way to follow for one’s life.

Erik expounded the concept of professionalism by drawing out the positive traits associated with it such as respect, enthusiasm, commitment, honesty, responsibility, etc. Then, an activity was made to focus on one positive trait and relate that with our work experiences and religious beliefs. After the group sharing, Erik highlighted to establish a disposition to serve and collaborate as a professional. He further elaborated that as a professional, certain scientific knowledge and skills are required. To contextualize the role of professionals in an ever changing society, Erik stressed the need to innovate and deal with change. This is where spirituality becomes relevant because it guides the professionals to make good decisions in given situations.

In the afternoon of the second day, we went to a nearby German city, Aachen, for a field trip. We visited the majestic Aachen cathedral and its treasury museum. Most of us were surprised to discover a German city near theborder of the Netherlands with such history and religious significance.

The day was declared free after the Aachen trip.

On the third day, the morning exercise and prayer were exhilarating. They brought back prayerful atmosphere to the retreat. Then, there was an activity to make sketches to show dilemmas in the workplace. The dilemmas at times shook our lives and we often got lost on what to do. In times like that, our spirituality provides anchor to our decisions that reflect our values, purpose and goals.

In the last activity, a time for silence was given. There were five points to reflect upon while in silence. There was also an option to talk with the retreat facilitators during this time. The last reflection point was about a message to take home after the retreat.

I remember my disposition in the beginning of the retreat. I had this sentimental longing for connectedness. When Sr. Claudia reminded me of the Book of Genesis which narrates that God breathed in me giving and sustaining me a life, I felt connected to the core of my existence.

As the train moved closer to Nijmegen after three days in a monastery in Wahlwiller-Wittem, there was a sense of coming home. The trees and landscapes seemed familiar which conveyed a voice within me that stirred my heart, mind and soul in praise, and connected me to this beautiful creation – life. I knew that there were fifteen others seeing and feeling this way and finding their way back home.

Holy Week Outside the Philippines (Remembering the life of Christ)

From http://www.insanetwist.com

For the past decade, I have been out of the Philippines for most of the time. And for quite a number of times, I have been asked about the Philippines. This Holy Week, I have been asked about the penitents who get nailed to the cross in observance of Good Friday.
"Is it true? Why do you do that in the Philippines?"

I was taken aback. I did not know at first how to respond. In my own effort to provide some answers, I have replied, "Yes, it is true. But I have never done that (showing my two palms apparently unscarred). The Catholic Church in the Philippines discourages people to engage in that which has become quite a 'tradition' in the Philippines."

I heard and read stories and reports that the act of crucifixion -getting nailed to the cross, is meant to relive and experience the passion of Christ. As reported, most of the penitents have personal "panata" or pledge to Christ. These solemn pledges can range from a very religious commitment to live a changed and holy life to an act seeking forgiveness or a mundane matter such as asking big favors (passing a national test, winning in lotteries, winning the heart of a beloved, etc.).

Every year, this tradition is drawing large crowd including curious foreign tourists especially in the province of Pampanga.In the 1950s and 60s, the tradition was secluded for the locals and communities of believers. The media have made this tradition a global news. And there is no turning back from the prying, disbelieving and bewildered eyes of those outside of the Philippines.

From http://www.insanetwist.com

For Catholic Filipinos, Holy Week is celebrated in many ways in various places. It is one of those seasons (the others are Christmas, fiestas, All Saint's Day) that Filipinos return to their hometown and villages. Because of its long vacation (usually 4-5 days including the weekend), majority, I'd say, opt to observe and cultivate the religious meanings of the Lenten season. The whole country, even the smallest towns and villages, have religious activities that celebrate the Holy Week. On the side though, social and recreational activities are also held such as reunions, outings and parties.

In the midst of these activities, there is a general atmosphere that believers must do penance during this season. The usual penance is to join a procession in prayer. Abstinence is also a common practice, especially from meat which is an essential Filipino culinary (prices of fish and vegetables shot up during this season). Fasting is also practiced. However, some people do penance in extreme ways. That is, walking long distance without slippers or shoes, experiencing the suffering of Christ such as carrying of the wooden cross, scourging themselves, and getting nailed to the cross.

For Filipino Catholics outside the Philippines, Holy Week is different. I am a bit lucky that Nijmegen in the Netherlands has a university with many international students. The studentenkerk (student church) has a line-up of activities for the season such as Way of the Cross and Holy Masses. There is also a Filipino community in the neighboring areas of Nijmegen, Molenhoek, and Wijchen.

Pasion Bicol (I brought this to deepen my knowledge of the Bikol language and do the pasion this Holy Week)

This is my second time I have observed Holy Week in Nijmegen. It has made me remember Bicol. Back then and there, Bicolanos have Pasion. A group of people sing a text in Bikol language that narrates the passion of Christ for days until Easter Sunday (often it lasts 2 days without pause and stop). Then, at the end of the Pasion, there is a big celebration with food and games, a gathering of family members and relatives, neighbors in the community. That was back then and there.

More than the "tradition" of literal crucifixion on the cross, Filipino Catholics celebrate Holy Week in religious and worldly ways. However, in our human efforts to be like Christ, we do want to share in His passion for humanity, in that He suffered for it and gave up His own life for the fulfillment of a will. In these human attempts to be like Christ, the closest that penitents can get to Christ is to actually get nailed to the cross as Christ. But we know that Christ not only died on the cross, He resurrected and showed us a life of love, service, compassion, and resistance (He resisted the temptations of wealth, power, and prestige).

From http://www.epm.org

In this Holy Week here, there or anywhere, more than the crucifixion, the season brings to fore the resurrection which makes us remember the life of Christ, a life of love, service, compassion, and resistance against evils.

The Pasion in Bikol ends with this:

Jesus, cami naghagad man            Jesus, we seek
con sucat maheracan,                    ever with pity
na cun matapus an buhay,              if life ends,
samuya mo na pacamtan                grant us
an Lagnit camurayan.                     a glorious Heaven.

AUOTPA LOGOD GUIRARAY       Amen for ever more.

After A Year, Here I Am Again Nijmegen

Nijmegen train station

I know I will be back. I am bound to be back.

It was cold as expected in the Netherlands. I was prepared for the nearly freezing point of 3 degrees celcius. From Schiphol to Nijmegen, the train passed familiar and welcoming sights, and yet I felt a misplaced sensation of time and space.

Am I here?"

"Or Ï am moving to where I am supposed to be?"

The moving train settled and tied my wandering thoughts and trembling senses back to my own.

Welcome! says doraemon, flower and card

And then after an hour or so of that train ride, it felt a year of travel; here I am, in the same neighborhood, flat and room.

I was welcomed by a waiting greeting card, flower and doraemon on the table. It felt that I was not away that long. The radio, couch, bed, paintings, cabinets, and the silence in the neighborhood seemed to be unsurprised to see me back.

These are what I need to see, feel to say, "Ï'm back!"

I started to unpack my things, unraveling some memories and stories in my mind. Almost every stuff I put inside the cabinet or drawer, it carried a certain weight of home; unsettling at first in a new place.

Dominic buried in snow

Excitedly, I went down to the basement to get the few things I had left behind in the flat. They were all there, anticipating my homecoming. It took me more time to open the boxes than bringing them up and inside my room. It was like unloading the past behind to move on to the things that were immediate.

The last thing that went out of the basement was "Dominic." Remember him?!

Well, Dominic survived the most severe winter. He survived the isolation, the stationary position, the dark and hidden corners of a basement. Yes he did. And he waited, and waited, for a year.

Thanks to the oil and hand air pump!

And then finally, he was out of the basement. The wind of freedom, touch of ground, and light of movement greeted its wheels.

But his tires were slouchy; they were gasping for air. The rims were rusty; they were screaming for oil.

So I asked my landlord if he had hand air pump and grease oil to revive my Dominic.

He brought those two and I tried to put more life to Dominic. And yes, Dominic came back.

Dominic and Molen together under the sun

For my first week, Dominic brought me to Uni and home. After four or five days, his tires were slowly getting heavier and losing some air. I needed to revive him, again.

My new production place (oh, they call it here office)

With this experience, I decided to have Dominic a partner. I borrowed one bike from Ate Renna in Molenhoek. And I got that bike last week. I introduced Dominic to his new companion, Molen (for obvious reason). Dominic was quiet. I reassured him that Molen will be with us for a while; look after her. She is new in the neighborhood. Then, I left the two bikes for them to have their own time together because they will be together, bound by incidence.

View from my corner

I came back to Nijmegen to do something. And here I would do much of my work - Erasmus building at the 14th floor. I got a corner space (well, four of us got a corner in a rectangular office). The view is exhilarating. The countryside of endless plains feels like inviting me to look further than the trees, hills, and what's obvious in the eyes. (Still connected with research).

Dutch says it with flowers: Welkom!

Today I'd say I do (Wedding Day Story)

When I proposed in December 2010 (read my proposal here), I knew that wedding day (We-Day) would come soon.

Next year, why not?

But then, Prince William and Kate had their We-Day in 2011. So we thought that our wedding would have no chance to be the wedding of the year!

2012, why not?

But 2012 is a leap year. In the Philippines, there is a superstitious belief that any important event held this year is filled with omens. Not a good year for wedding, I suppose. And the next year is even more omenous with the number 13. I have not extended my imagination and thought on 2014 though. Too way too long to have her in my life, formally.

So 2012 remained the most viable option. We just had to leave the month that has the extra day, February.

Why not in January 2012? Talking about starting the year right. So it was January 2012.

January has 31 days. So many good days in January. But professional commitments made our options a little bit restricted. We were both occupied in the middle of the month. So we looked at the end of the month as a possible We-Day.

The last weekend was a strong choice. But there was yet another strong choice after that weekend. And so we decided to make our We-Day a gift to one important person in my life who celebrates her birthday on January 31. On that day, she would be 70 years old.

So it was January 31.

On the day, I kept telling myself, "This is it! This is it!" Convincing myself that the wait was over. It was time to let things be, to dwell in the moment, to breathe in the significance and magic of reality and exhale the illusions separating me from that reality.

I was unsteady, and yet her grip fixed me. She held my hand firmly to declare that we were into this together. That wiped off the beans of sweats rolling from my head, into my hand.

I was nervous, and yet her presence beside me was comforting. The reassuring look in her eyes, the constant smiles, those relieved me from the nerves that were uncontrollably killing me.

I knew she too was unsteady and nervous. Amidst those nerves, I tried to respond, grip by grip, look for look, smile upon smile; reassuring her that I would stand by you, here and now until tomorrow comes, grip by grip, look for look, smile upon smile.

"Yes, I do."

And so I got married, that day of January 31 in a leap year.

A big leap with her over omens, onto the promise of a wonderful life together.


(I would like to thank Liway and her crew for arranging things and making our wedding truly memorable and special. Contact the coolest crew here: http://carazuniga.multiply.com/notes).

Sheeps and lambs on my long slumber from singlehood ( Wedding day's eve countdown)

Tonight, I would like to see the night slipping away. I would watch the transition from night, dawn to day.

I would let my mind wonder, wander, and discover. I would let the mighty hand of time bring me to the dearest and fondest part of my life, and feel its moment with every tick; no closure, no end in sight. Just a man facing time and his future.

It's been a long time since I have this kind of moment. My senses are killing me. I see the darkness out there blurred by glowing lights from the ground. I feel the heaviness of parents' breathing due to the suffocating anxiety of the next day. I hear the silence of the night on the workers dotting the high-rise building construction from afar. I smell the drench of the waterways flowing underneath a dead stream. I touch the tinge under my soles from the cold floor to the lively perceptive soul inside. Outside, I plunge myself to the expanse of possibilities.

A lone airplane slicing the yawning distance between those left behind and those moving forward. I sit still, in a distant horizon.

I see a man, who has submitted himself to the trials of life. Sometimes he wins, sometimes he loses. But he has words for me.

"If you are going to get married, look for a woman who understands you, not necessarily understanding you every time; who accepts you, but not entirely accepting you; who supports you and stands by you. Look for a woman whom you can communicate with the ordinariness of the day, and whom you can believe in."

Yes Tatay (father), I have met and found that woman. And tomorrow, I am going to get married with her.

And sleep comes uninvited and unwelcome, like the night after a long joyous day, surrendering to the certainty and inevitability of the next day.