Stay, Joe

Some vivid images in childhood flash back to our adult minds. One image that comes to my mind is that of seeing G.I.s walking down the street, and children singing after them, "Hello, Joe, pampam Joe," It was Liberation, and scores of American soldiers were roaming the streets of our barrio with red-lipped women wearing stiletto heels clinging to their arms. I didn’t know what the kids meant as I watched the pageant and listened to the soldiers singing. "I like banana because it has no bones." I was licking a lollipop handed me by an older cousin whose ambition when she became older was to get married to an American. She never did.

But the picture of American soldiers as savior and friend remained in the memory of my townsfolk and female relatives, who believed in their heart of hearts that America was the promised land of milk and honey. That belief continues to be translated into the thousands of men and women whose unmitigated passion is to go to America in the belief that they would live happily ever after there.

* * *

The picture of drunken soldiers flashed back as the first throng of American soldiers landed in Basilan early this year. And it continues to haunt me as day after day newspaper accounts report groups of people expressing the desire to have the Americans stay longer in Basilan to protect them from the ravages of a mysterious conflict between a measly hundred Muslim bandits on the one hand and on the other, a thousand American soldiers and elite troops equipped with the latest in war technology and enemy surveillance systems, and thousands of Filipino soldiers.

Pictures in yesterday’s papers showed Christian residents of Lamitan, Basilan, praying for peace a year after the Abu Sayyaf bandits raided the town after seizing hostages from a resort in Palawan. Several of those hostages have been killed, and three others, an American missionary couple and a Filipino nurse, are still held in captivity. There were stories, too, of townsfolk saying they want the soldiers to stay on, as their presence ensures their safety and security from the armed terrorists.

* * *

The people’s lament reflects the state of affairs in Mindanao, where majority of the residents, particularly the Muslims, live in abject poverty. Other cultural minority groups complain of the government’s neglect of their plight, but the Muslims, through a ragtag group of bandits, have hogged national and international attention for their desperate need to get attention, food, jobs, roads and schools, and hospitals. For those who know how it is to be hungry, the Muslims’ desire to have food is understandable.

The sad thing is that a good number of people believe that the efforts to alleviate the plight of the Muslims have been hampered by military and government officials conniving with the bandits and raking in much of the logistics intended for the rehabilitation and reconstruction of Mindanao.

I do not blame Lamitan residents for asking the Americans to stay so they can keep their sari-sari and food stalls open, their children can go to school, and they all can live in peace.

But I am bothered by the fact that the Americans–despite their sophisticated wartime technology – have not yet rescued the Burnham couple and decimated the Abu Sayyaf. Basilan is not a large territory as Afghanistan.

* * *

A bestselling book published by Anvil Publishing, Inc. is that of former Executive Secretary Aprodicio Laquian, where he reveals that he was present at the meeting where former President Joseph Estrada signed a loan document with the now famous "Joe Velarde" signature which was witnessed by Clarissa Ocampo. The memoirs, entitled "The Erap Tragedy: Tales from the Snake Pit," narrates that the meeting concerned a guarantee for a P500 million loan to Wellex Corporation, owned by William Gatchalian, a Chinoy friend of Erap. Laquian provides a startling view of life inside Malacañang. Using the "snake pit" as a symbol, he writes about the vicious infighting among Malacañang top officials – possibly, according to Laquian, one of the main reasons for the tragic downfall of the Estrada administration. The 371-page book is on the bestseller list of National Bookstore and Powerbooks and is available in a bookpaper edition.