Other Selves in Hong Kong

I was in Hong Kong last June with poet Joel Toledo and singer-songwriter Charms Tianzon of Matilda, for a series of literary activities organized by writer and UP alumna, Armida Azada, who launched her second collection of poetry called Cataclysmal: Seventy Wasted Poems. The series of literary activities we took part in mostly involved a bit of workshopping, poetry-reading, paper-presenting, and a whole lot of eating, walking, and train-and-bus-and-tram-and-ferry/boat-riding. It was lovely.

At the forum in Lingnan University, I talked a bit about language as a site of trauma, and humor as a site of resistance. Joel talked about text and context in poetry, Charms talked about her creative process as a songwriter, and Mida talked about, among other things, Victorian poetry. On of the attendees of the forum was a Filipino journalist in Hong Kong who, apparently, is a very good friend of Pete Lacaba's, and who had so many interesting stories to share about the Martial Law period. He also shared, during the cocktails, a beautiful poem he wrote for his wife.

After the forum, I found myself in a spirited discussion about language and translation issues with one of the PhD fellows, and I came out of that conversation with a new plot for a detective novel involving a writer of original texts masquerading as a translator. I also came out of that forum a bit drunk, thanks to Prof. Rice, human rights lawyer and Philo professor, who encouraged us to imbibe alcohol into our system while we delivered our papers, saying that, while he's not sure if it is done in Literature fora, in the ones organized by his department, drinking wine during talks is absolutely acceptable. So we happily obliged. Joel and I also went back to our hotel with lots of "take-home" food, thanks to the wonderful Pinay women who catered for the event.

I posted on Facebook that this was my first time to visit Hong Kong for non-work reasons. It's not entirely true. I should have written 'day job' instead of 'work'. Writing, or being a writer, is work (although it's ridiculous to call the fun that we had in Hong Kong 'work'). It's also not true that this Hong Kong visit did not entail putting whatever skills or perspective I developed in my day job to some use. It's hard to leave one's labor-rights-NGO-persona when you're in Hong Kong. It's hard not to be a labor rights advocate when you're in Hong Kong, even if you do not work for a labor rights NGO. I thought it admirable, for instance, how our hosts in Hong Kong, UP alumni who hold executive positions and live in high-end residential areas, just naturally take to helping fellow Filipinos in less-privileged situations in Hong Kong, in very many meaningful ways. I was ready to censure myself from making any remarks and observations that might make them uncomfortable. Instead, I found myself convinced, and feeling very proud, that UP does develop among its students a distinct social consciousness and sense of social responsibility, regardless of whatever position in their personal or professional life they end up with. I was thus also very glad to learn that among the literary activities we had to take part in involved holding a writing workshop for domestic helpers in a quaint and rather rustic island called Peng Chau. The afternoon spent in Peng Chau was, for me, the highlight of the Hong Kong trip.

One of the helpers who atended the workshop in Peng Chau said that, on her days off, or while on buses and trains traveling to work, she always finds herself thinking of the past and of her daily experiences in Hong Kong, and feeling like she should be writing about them. She also shared that she likes visiting Mida's house because there are so many books there, and that she would sometimes read books which to her seem exactly like the kind she would someday want to write.

I realized, in the four days that we walked and commuted, and island-hopped around Hong Kong, that this was my first time to actually really interact with Filipino contract workers here. Previous visits to Hong Kong always only involved meetings with employers/companies and NGOs, staying in hotels in the city center, and taking the taxi to and from meeting venues. The little walking I would do usually only happened in night markets. Unlike in other countries I go to for work, I never have to do audits and worker-interviews in Hong Kong. So it was quite an experience for me to be jostling my way around the city, taking the public commute, and especially talking with and holding an intimate writing workshop with Filipinos in Hong Kong.

On our last night in Hong Kong, after one of the readings in Dymocks Bookstore in Discovery Bay, I overheard some of the women who attended the launch talking about organizing a labor-rights awareness seminar for domestic helpers. I couldn't help myself, I interrupted their conversation and finally came out to them as an NGO worker. At the end of that conversation, I also found myself volunteering to return to Hong Kong in October with my husband, and offering our services to them, pro bono. What a relief it was to not have to downplay the work that my other self does anymore.

Thanks so much, Mida and Benjie, and Claire, and everyone who made us feel warmly welcomed in Hong Kong. Thanks for giving us the opportunity to exchange stories and poetry with Pinoys in HK, and, soon, for the opportunity to contribute to labor rights awareness-raising too. :)

I have a narrative poem in AGAM

A narrative poem I wrote in Waray is included in the ground-breaking anthology on climate change and stories of uncertainty called Agam. http://agam.ph/writers/ Here's a brief description of what book is about:

About AGAM (http://agam.ph/about/)
Agam reflects the confrontation between climate change and diverse cultures across the Philippines. It combines original new works in prose, verse, and photographs and depicts uncertainty—and tenacity—from the Filipino perspective, minus the crutch of jargon.

This is a book that asks you to sit down and take a deep breath, it draws a line in the sand and whispers in your ear, “This is where our stories begin.”

The title, Agam—an old Filipino word for uncertainty and memory—captures the essence of this groundbreaking work. Inside are 26 images and creative narratives in eight Filipino languages (translated into English), crafted by 24 writers representing a broad array of disciplines—poets, journalists, anthropologists, scientists, and artists.

Agam represent story-telling at its best.

More than climate change, Agam is about people; it is about what was, what might be, what is.

It is the story of all of us.



All proceeds from the sale of Agam will go to the project Re-Charge Tacloban, an integrated solar and sustainable transport services and learning facility in Tacloban, a city devastated by Typhoon Yolanda (international name:Haiyan), the strongest storm ever recorded at landfall.

The crisis brought about by the supertyphoon presents in itself an opportunity to reboot development without inefficient, unreliable, and polluting energy and transport systems. iCSC believes new approaches must be taken to develop—and rebuild — safer, more resilient, sustainable communities. Re-Charge Tacloban project helps generate local jobs by hiring locally, diffusing technical expertise, and by designing appropriate business models for sustainable social enterprise through the provision of renewable energy systems coupled with electric, locally built, public transport fleets. Re-Charge Tacloban is also the site of the Solar Scholars program of iCSC, which seeks to empower humanitarian workers in local government and civil society.

Visit www.ejeepney.org for more information about the project.