I had not been to the Boulevard in a long time, so the sight of the sea with a large gathering of bancas bearing No to Reclamation banners was beautiful and most inspiring.
Gazing at the spread of outrigger boats with their fisherfolk-owners clustered near the sea wall after a fluvial parade, I was reminded of the Badjaos in their bancas that I had seen on a balikbayan trip in 2002 at the Bohol harbor. Openly exposed to the sun and water, they looked like the children of the sea.
Since the Philippines is an archipelagic nation, we are all children of the sea, of blue water and sky that symbolize hope and happiness. We were at the Boulevard to make sure that would prevail.
Although my twin sister and I have always been ardent anti-reclamationists, last Sunday was the first time we joined an actual rally of the Dumaguete No To Reclamation advocates.
Belle, our more actively-involved anti-reclamation friend, believing that gray-haired folks lend gravitas to a rally, challenged us to actually demonstrate our support with our presence on the Boulevard (even offering to pick us up from our place).
Speaking for myself, physical conditions brought on by time’s fickle ways have given me serious mobility problems, greatly limiting where I can go, and what I can do these days. But on Labor Day this year, I made the “supreme sacrifice” (apologies to Isko) of getting up hours earlier than my usual wakeup call. Belle had also talked her mom and a family friend into joining us, so on that early May morn, she chauffeured Japi, Titos, and us kaluha to Rizal Boulevard.
Joining the large crowd on the esplanade at the rally site heavily plastered with No to Reclamation banners, we ran into other friends (Paz, Leo, Celia, Babut, Verna, Karl, Esther, etc), and were introduced to political candidates working the crowd.
Petit Baldado, whom we already knew, reminded us again that he took botany in college under our late father.
It was a clear, warm, windless day in May, with the sun blazing unhindered in the sky and, in its blinding glare, the shining sea spreading outward. A loud percussion band tirelessly beat out its engaging repetitious rhythms. The “Drummers for the Environment and Good Governance” band from Piapi with their tom-toms, snare, and bass drums, as well as cymbals and cowbells, enhanced the festive mood at the event.
And indeed, the rally and fluvial happening could have been seen as some kind of May festival, although absent the religious connections of festivals in May around the world, like our Flores de Mayo, or the May festivals in temperate countries to welcome the arrival of Spring and new life after the cold, dark days of Winter, a celebration of joy and hope for a bountiful year. Food and drinks would be shared, and there would be music and dancing in town squares or in fields and meadows, traditional celebratory sites.
No food or drink at the Boulevard, but, facing the sea, the uninhibited Mong and Aaron danced to the band’s rhythms, gracefully swaying their hips and waving their arms; Aaron rocking on the sea wall, waving the rainbow flag of the LGBTs, and the tall Mong keeping sway right behind him on the esplanade. A spirit of fun and good will prevailed.
The sun beat down mercilessly, but I didn’t mind, although my face was sweating heavily under my face mask. (Most people had masks but pulled them down, while several went maskless. With the virus situation still iffy, we shouldn’t let our guard down yet.) Anyhow, I got my dose of Vitamin D for the week.
Taking in the view of the Bohol Sea, I saw how haze blurred the island of Siquijor, and our sight of the open sea to the south is now blocked by that controversial reclaimed Pantawan2, a pet project of the re-electionist Mayor who is pushing an even monstrous reclamation project that will severely alter the shoreline of our City, and negatively affect the livelihood of the fisherfolk.
The Badjaos, dispossessed of their traditional home and fishing grounds by civil strife and government indifference, were/are forced to wander around the different islands looking for a place that would welcome them.
Though not as drastic, the threat facing our fisherfolk communities of Bantayan to Banilad is just as serious and life-changing if they lose their traditional fishing grounds to a massive reclamation project.
Extemporaneously delivered in fluent and sometimes poetic Cebuano, their stirring collective cry not to be betrayed by the Government if their source of livelihood is destroyed rang passionately loud and clear.
How anyone can think of covering up the sea, and blocking off its natural vista boggles the mind. Life on earth started in the primordial seas. The sea is our mother. We must take care of her. She nourishes our body and nurtures our soul as well, our spiritual center which needs the intangibles of beauty and serenity.
Expensively-lit streets and towering buildings í la Makati won’t guarantee a better life for Dumagueteños. I think we would be better off instead if the powers-that-be would improve and enhance what residents and visitors already recognize as Dumaguete’s strength, its unique charm–a quiet and laid-back place “far from the madding crowd,” with inspiring natural scenery; not a backward provincial town, but one offering a relatively comfortable standard of living, peopled by an educated citizenry.
We may not be a Smart City, but people seek out our kind of place to visit also.
Do we really need a drastic make-over of our hometown’s ambience to improve our life, and draw tourists here as envisioned by the reclamation advocates?
Our officials should pinpoint what Dumaguete and nearby destinations may already have that would draw visitors; then concentrate energy and funds on their development and improvement, instead of forcibly endorsing a drastic, ambitious, overly-complicated, and most controversial project. Shouldn’t good governance consider less ambitious and more doable alternatives?
After the rally, we headed home inspired by our strong collective spirit of unity and determination to fight the proposed reclamation project. The speakers had blasted the stand of the re-electionist politicians.
For many of us, it was also mainly an event to celebrate the fact that we are children of the sea, blessed to be living by a beautiful, bountiful ocean that, we hope, would endure for all time. Madahan!
