Noynoy's Woes

At present, I am still on the sidelines in terms of who I will actually vote for, although I was quick to call attention to the disowning and denial of Winnie Monsod of the article that was supposedly written by her, as well as the blatant disinformation about the Mugabe mansion being allegedly owned by Villar. The reason why I did so was not to defend Villar (he has already lots of money, enough for him to have been able to hire 5 professional PR and advetising firms to run his campaign), but to correct this peddling of lies to favor Noynoy. This strikes deep at the heart of my discomfort right now. It makes me realize that we are now in such a mess that many of us, with good intentions, and with all sincerity, have been made to Vote not "for" a person, but "against" a person. This is not, in political science theory, the sign of a mature democracy. It is this kind of electoral mood that forces people to go into negative campaigning, to a point of concocting lies like the Winnie Monsod and the Mugabe mansion fiasco.

I too, for a while, was rooting for Noynoy, especially right after the death of his mother. I, too, want a clean government. But if Noynoy has to win, it should not be because of myths which make him somebody that he is not, one that is bigger than the Benigno Simeon Aquino that he really is. He should win not because of Villar's flaws and faults, but because of his own credentials and capabilities. The danger in a campaign in which Noynoy wins by capitalizing on the weaknesses of his opponent is that after the last ballot is scanned by the PCOS machines and certified by the Comelec, and after he is proclaimed by the Joint session of Congress, and it is time to govern, where the demon of Villar has already been cast off, then his own demons, one that was not made visible during the campaign, may just haunt the eletorate.

A content analysis of the campaign right now reveals that the negative campaigning has been intense on the side of Noynoy's camp targeting Villar. In fact, a mapping of the campaign discourse significantly shows that the venom is hurled from all places, from LP to Dick, Jamby, JC and others, and aimed at one direction--at Manny V. Lest we forget, the Filipino electorate is one that is sympathetic to an underdog. Villar, with his cool and almost (I hate to say this, but objectively it is true) "presidential demeanor" despite the intense mudslinging aimed at him, and despite the fact that he is rich, and thanks to the professional advise of seasoned marketing and PR consultants (who are all well-paid) is effectively appearing as the under-dog! Contrast this with Noynoy's petulant behavior, from his spat with Tony Lopez in one forum, to his incessant barrage of anti-Villar statements during his speeches, to even the petty things of Villar copying his campaign style, and lamenting that Manny V. might even end up copying his hair-style, was just way out of line, and too "un-presidential." Erap could have run away with this kind of murder, but not Noynoy. It does not help that he ends up in the league of Jamby Madrigal, who is so disliked by the electorate (imagine this: she is at the bottom of the surveys, with Nicky Perlas and JC de los Reyes outpolling her, despite the fact that she is a senator).

The Filpino electorate has turned into politics like a spectacle, an on-going soap. In this political culture, Villar has effectively turned the tables around and made himself the poor-boy who became rich, but could not be accepted by elites. He has allied himself with the heroes and heroines of soaps and reality TV. Meanwhile, the real son of heroes seem to have lost his bearings and is now seen in the company of "villains"--the rich and wealthy "contrabidas" scheming to thwart the success of this ambitious outsider from the slums of Tondo. This is the narrative that is more appealing to the same "outsiders" that Villar has imaged in children swimming in a sea of garbage.

And this is why Noynoy's campaign, despite the fact that he is still the front-runner, is running scared. The irony however, is that the only way he can fight Villar is to keep on bringing up the latter's negatives. He could no longer rely on the myth of his parents, for as polls show, this has effectively been eroded. He can still keep on saying what he is not (i.e. corrupt), but he has to match this with an equally attractive narrative of what, in fact, he is. And if he tries offering his own credentials and record, and his performance, the more that he may end up troubled, for these may be, sad but true, scarce and lack-luster.

Weird choices, rational choices

Ever since I posted in my Facebook account my choices for the Senate in the upcoming May 2010 elections, I have been receiving comments, some posted openly in my profile, others as private messages, which are rather interesting, in the sense that they are questions about the a) sanity, b) rationality, and c) political correctness of some of my choices. What particularly drew the ire of most are my votes for Adel Tamano, Miram-Defensor Santiago and Bongbong Marcos.

At first, I felt amused to a point that while I replied to the pointed comments, initially I was somewhat dismissive of them in the sense that I thought I do not owe anyone any explanation for practicing my fundamental right.

But then again, I realized that I needed to provide some logic and reason to the 12 names I have listed, if only to disabuse the minds of my friends who may feel a) betrayed, b) annoyed or c) amused.

But I am not going to be selective and simply justify why Adel, Miriam and Bongbong are on my list. Instead, I will give a complete picture of the political framework from where I based my choices.

At the outset, there are a couple of parameters upon which I grounded my choice, as I do believe that the process of choosing contains elements of personal ties and personal politics. Hence, there are candidates that I chose on the basis of affinity, whether by kinship or kindred, and there are those I chose for political reasons.

On the basis of affinity, I only have two names: Neric Acosta and Sonia Roco.

Neric is a friend of mine. He is the godfather of my eldest son. We were together in Hawaii as we both pursued our graduate studies in Political Science, where we also both danced with the Pamana Dance Company, a spin-off of the Bayanihan. But other than this, Neric is a very much qualified candidate, thereby making me feel much better to choose him since he possesses qualifications other than our personal friendship.

Sonia is not a friend of mine. I don't even know her personally. She doesn't even know me. But I am voting for her anyway as my commitment to her departed husband, the good Oragon Senator from Bicol, Senator Raul Roco, whom I have voted for President in the past. Just like Neric, I am also heartened by the thought that she is also a qualified candidate, thereby denying anyone the ammunition to criticize me for simply being too sentimental, or regionalistic.

Now, my political choices.

Of course, I have Risa Hontiveros, Liza Maza and Satur Ocampo to represent the progressive left, further emphasizing that the three collectively represents both sides of the Philippine left, eeven made more compelling since Risa and Liza have their feminist roots as well. I may disagree with some of the left's positions, but I still believe that it is about time that they have to be officially represented in the Senate, and I have no doubt that these three will represent all the facets of the progressive movement in the country.

Then I have Pia Cayetano for the environmental agenda, which I also strongly support. Pia Cayetano has grown in me during her first term. I did not like her, the first time, particularly her being just an inheritor of his father's seat (at least, Allan Peter was a member of the house when he was elected). But she has shown me enough evidence of a low-key, but effective advocate for the environment.

I also think that we need Muslims in the Senate, this is why I am voting for Adel Tamano and Yasmin Busran-Lao. They represent the two sides of Muslim Mindanao that I want to enfranchise--a moderate Adel and a progressive but rational Yasmin, to blunt the image of an Al Qaeda infested place where backhoes are used to dig common gravesites.

Then I also have to get some from mainstream politics, but ever conscious of the need for young, alternative voices. Ruffy Biazon appeals to me as one who is critical but fair. Joey De Venecia is a controversial choice, but I told myself that he would be an interesting addition to the Senate, as a foil to the future ghosts of Gloria that may still lurk deep in the halls and inner sanctums of government.

People asked me why I am voting for Miriam. My answer is: why not? Personally, I have not agreed with her on many instances, but simply put: I find her amusing. A gadfly. A patroness of irreverence in the halls of the upper legislative chamber. She would be the inertia that we need when sanity dictates we go on full speed; she would be the battery that would keep us going when sanity dictates we slow down; in short--she is the insanity that could somewhat blunt the safety and convenience of a rationally sane, yet acquiescent mind. When almost all would say "yes," somebody seemingly insane shouting "no" in colorful and outlandish words and manner would be a big relief, a comforting distraction, and an opportunity to think if indeed we are going in the right direction at the right pace. If there is one candidate that captures my post-modern leanings, it is Miriam.

And finally Bongbong Marcos. Ahh! The scion of the evil bloodline in contrast to the Cory-Ninoy saintliness now being tried hard to be rubbed on Noynoy. But as I have posted in my Facebook account, despite the demonic images that we have painted of his family, in the entire term of Bongbong as Governor and Representative of Ilocos Norte, he never performed in a "demonic way" and I have never seen or heard of him engage in acts that are contraty to my sense of propriety. What I see in him is a serious attempt to redeem the much damaged Marcos name. My vote for him is not a repudiation of the dark years of Martial Law, but as recognition of the inner spirit of redemption that is natural in us. A desire to prove to society that one Marcos could be different may be a driver as powerful as a desire to prove to society that a son always inherits the virtues of his parents. After all, while some of us would like to continue the good legacy of our parents, there are also those who swear that they would never inflict on their children what they have suffered from their parents.

I just suppose that my politics is one of hope, where I put premium on the promises of the future, and not dwell on the ghosts of the past.

Of departures and coming back

This is horrible. I have been away for so long in this piece of cyberspace where I used to populate with my words with gusto. Something must have happened to turn me into a passive blogger, or a blogger in absentia.

I guess, it was the holiday season that kept me away. Then came January, where I thought I could begin again, except that I had to pick up the pieces of my old tricks as I went back to full-time classroom teaching. It was almost like going back to biking--something that you know how to do, but could still feel some hesitation the first moment you stepped on the pedal and maintain your balance, familiar yet somewhat new. In my case, it was the enjoyment of a Sabbatical that provided the inertia that turned my pedagogical homecoming into something less enjoyable.

But I have to come back to this cyber-kingdom of mine, There are just too many things happening around me--politically, personally. The C5 controversy, my inability to choose a President, trouble with siblings--this is just a sample of the many things I want to write about again.

But all of these have to wait.

For now, I want to say good bye to someone.

Bobby Mendoza just died.

A fun-loving person with his own quirks, but a person I will miss. Many things could be said about him, but he was one of the very few cooperative faculty members in the College of Liberal Arts during my stint as Dean. Sure, we had our differences, particularly when he was one of those who protested my decision to replace the Chair of his Department at the time. But Bobby never had the malice. Bobby always was available not only to make you laugh, but to provide poignant pieces of advise, if not friendly reassuring talk. And he was one of those who I was able to coopt into allowing me the pleasure of dancing during the Green Idol performance of CLA, something which others simply did not give me.

But Bobby left, as he usually does, unnoticed, in contrast to how he announces his entrance into a place with his signature "Are you happy today?" spiel. Bobby has to die for me to have the courage to write again, if only to tell him that he will be sorely missed.

I guess, that is the whole point of it all. We have to treasure the moments of our returnings to familiar places, for this could also remind us of treasuring the moments when we remember those who would no longer return, except only in our memories.

Mommy D. and Me

The last time I posted something in this blogsite was more than a month ago. I was too busy finishing my book, and doing some other things. In addition, I just took up a new career as a part-time aerobics instructor in my neighborhood gym. It's something that I have taken up to make my life more exciting. At 48, I want to prove something. I am not just an academic. I am not going to stand by and let the years of my life pass as a routine. I don't want to be bored by what is expected and the usual.

Besides, if Mommy D. a.k.a. Dionesia Pacquiao can dream of becoming a recording star, I told myself that I have every right to become a fitness guru.

That is exactly the point that makes me crazy--when people who have no right come up and claim something that they don't deserve, or have no talent or capacity to become. This is why I decided to teach aerobics, albeit on a part-time basis, as a way of resisting the politics of boldness of these people who simply lay claim to an image just because they can get away with it.

Mommy D. became a celebrity by virtue of Manny P. Without him, she would never be taken seriously. I told myself that my becoming a fitness instructor is someting that I worked hard for, spending time learning the trick, losing pounds by lifting pounds, and spending at least two hours six times a week in the gym. I do not have to rely on the fame and fortune of someone else to make my 151 pounds turn into 137.

If Mommy D. can have the audacity to sing, and be bold enough to even see the products of such as fit to be sold in record bars, then I, in my humble opinion, have more right to lead those who desire to be fit as they sweat it out in the gym. She may have Manny and his money to be used as a fulcrum to make her and others believe her make-believe. I have nothing to offer except my health, both in body and mind, and yes, my authenticity, to my aerobics students.

Mommy D. as singer; Tonton C. as aerobics teacher. The former is a mystery of wealth defying the laws of sanity; the latter is a work of health transcending the challenges of age.

A Tale of Two Universities: A Case of Two Contrasting Everyday Forms of University Politics

In the Philippines, there is tendency for a shorter-term modality for appointing University administrators but with unlimited reappointment to also co-exist with the corporate modality of choosing administrators, thereby further entrenching a very top-down and centralized mode of university governance. On the other hand, a longer but fixed-term modality with limited reappointment has been also associated with universities that have more constituency-driven types of selecting their administrators, thereby further enabling a more participatory and decentralized mode of governance. The first ensures predictability and control by limiting spaces for constituency representation and articulations while the latter privileges voices or representation but also open the floodgates to more open contestations. This is not to say that there are no contestations in the first mode, but such are not expressed more openly, and usually take the form of faceless subversions and behind the back maneuvers in which people anonymously attack colleagues to whom they are actually otherwise cordial in face to face encounters. While open conflicts and contentious narratives may predominate a university with more participatory modes of governance, and thereby give the impression of an overt and visibly destructive politics, everyday forms of resistance—from preponderance of gossips and rumors, a high prevalence of anonymous poison letters, and latent undermining of people—tend to be more pervasive in a university that has more centralized forms of control. This effectively transforms the university into one that possesses a silent yet just differently but may be equally disenabling form of everyday politics. Universities that tend to have more manifest conflict have also provided more spaces for contesting authority and asserting organized and individual resistance. While politics here is less predictable, its architecture of power enable hierarchies to be more responsive since they are easily engaged and confronted by an academic politics that is more openly expressed. On the other hand, those who tend to be more controlled also tend to have more latent conflict, have less spaces for contestations, are more regimented and predictable, even as its everyday forms of academic politics are more insidious and invisible, effectively hiding in the niceness of their façade and the relative regularity of their rituals.

Concrete examples abound to show this. In one university that is noted for its liberal and participatory academic culture, faculty voices are very much openly expressed not only in the selection of administrators, but also in taking them to task and holding them up accountable for their actions. In this culture, open confrontation and direct engagement of concerned parties, whether among colleagues or with superiors, are more frequent, and aggrieved parties are less constrained to personally confront their antagonists and are willing to author or sign their names in a formal complaint or petition. Here, collegial decision making bodies exist at the university and college levels composed of faculty members that enable direct faculty representation not only on academic matters such as curriculum and student graduation, but also in organizational matters. This relatively open space for contestations is enabled by an academic culture that allows the proliferation not only of power centers, but also of individual expression of resistance against such power. This is ensured by a less rigid management regime in which while rules of conduct exist, these are not in fact totally and absolutely enforced, and if so, there is plenty of room for negotiability. Faculty members are allowed greater latitude not only in their academic endeavors, but more importantly in their own personal lives and how they express their own lifestyle preferences. There is less micromanagement of faculty behavior, in terms of strict monitoring of attendance or having dress code requirements. However, the relatively open space for contestations often lead to cases of severe factionalism manifested at all levels, from departments and units, up to the whole university. Some faculty meetings become virtual war zones, with faculty enmity openly expressed. This situation tends to undermine not only the operations of some units, but also even the careers of individual faculty members, some of whom are forced to leave the university for places that do not only offer better working conditions and salary packages, but also less political intramurals.

On the other side is the case of a leading private university in which the academic culture is more corporate, and where faculty representation is more tiered and less open, where the venues by which constituency interests are expressed are enabled only by a cascading hierarchy of Deans and Chairs representing their constituencies in specific bodies at the university and college Levels, This, however, does not fully insure authentic interest representation of the constituents by their Chairs or Deans, considering that the latter are appointed on a one-year term basis, thereby making them vulnerable and prevents them from truly going against top down imperatives. Such role is shifted to the faculty club which operates like a labor union, but takes more an identity of a company union that is still under the control and direction of management. The only direct participation of all faculty members exists at the department level during departmental Meetings. In this university, the constrained space for direct faculty participation is also matched by a relatively regimented academic culture, in which faculty members are monitored not only for their compliance of dress code policies, but also on their classroom attendance.

There is also a controlled atmosphere of contestations, in which dissenting voices tend to be less publicly expressed, thereby giving the impression of a less contentious academic culture. However, this is replaced by a more invisible domain of expressing resistance, seen in what I earlier referred to as the deployment of weapons of the weak, such as gossip and rumor, anonymous attacks, and the presence of informal corridors of power in which influence is exerted by subordinates to bypass their immediate superiors. In this academic culture, faculty members are more predisposed not to directly engage their colleagues with whom they have grievances, but instead go directly to their immediate supervisors, or if the conflict is with their immediate supervisors, they circumvent the line of command and directly go to higher administrative levels, even as they are also not willing to put their names and faces to a formal complaint. There have been many instances in which faculty members, Chairs or Deans are summoned by their immediate supervisors on the strengths of a complaint of an unnamed colleague or subordinate. This modality has the benefit of insulating the faculty ranks from vicious confrontations, but at the same time it also tends to institutionalize a system in which people are bold to talk on others without owning up to the responsibility of standing up for their grievances and accusations. It should be pointed out, however, that there are also faculty members who are much bolder and openly contest and challenge colleagues and superiors. However, one interesting pattern is that the likelihood of this behavior is significantly higher for those faculty members who have experienced teaching in and/or are graduates of the other university cited above.

The architecture of power in a university may also be reinforced by the actual physical spaces within which the campus is designed, particularly its classrooms and faculty offices. There are universities in which the faculty members have the luxury of having their own spaces. On the other hand, there are also those in which limited space only allows faculty cubicles in an otherwise common work space. This spatial configuration may have some implications on everyday politics, as it is easy to associate units with individual offices to a culture that may be prone to a less communitarian atmosphere, in which faculty members have their own private spaces where they can isolate themselves apart from others. In these private spaces, they are relatively insulated from peer gaze, and where, as one faculty member from a university with this type of space allocation pointed out, individual faculty members can easily plot against their colleagues, and where opposing camps can meet secretly to plan how to wage open war with each other.

A more communal working space, on the other hand, may foster a stronger sense of community and civility. Forced to share a workspace with colleagues, faculty members learn to adapt and have a more tolerant attitude towards others, even as the absence of “walls” enable a more shared sense of collective identity. However, common workspaces may also be more restrictive, and may in fact be more disenabling for the exercise of individual freedom, as it is easier to deploy control and regulation and to monitor faculty behavior. This is also seen when classrooms are designed to have glass windows on doors, where it is easier for administrators to monitor the attendance of faculty members. This type of physical architecture where faculty members’ share a common workspace may also foster a false sense of community, in which people are engaged only in superficial forms of camaraderie to maintain an air of civility, but such may not necessarily be sincere and deeply embedded.

In the final analysis, it is a choice between two different architectures of power, one that celebrates the liberating freedom of individuals to engage in an open discourse, or one that offers the security of controlled predictability of a community; a politically contentious and divided place but where you know who your enemies are, or a place with a strong sense of community but where your enemies could easily wear a smile as they plot against you. It is also a choice between a culture wherein contestations are more open but may lead to disenabling conflict that can visibly destabilize the institution, or one in which conflict is pushed to hide below what appears to be a calm institutional façade but may in fact work, like termites, to weaken its foundations. In the end, these are just two different manifestations of everyday university politics.

Writing about the ordinary and everyday as epiphany and political redemption

I started this book by making reference to my ordinary and everyday journeys, not only in physical terms as I travel a distance from my home to the university where I teach, but as an existential expedition into a constrained space for finding academic and scholarly meaning. While the theoretical and conceptual challenges may have appeared insurmountable, I derive pleasure in being able to craft my own narrative that on its own has become not just a scholarly endeavor, but has also acquired a form that is also personally and deeply political. The materials that I used in stitching what may appear to some as diverse bodies of texts are all based on my personal encounters, either as actual physical experiences, or as virtual immersions.

Being a TV fan, I considered media spaces as a natural home from where I can launch my inquiries. In the end, not only that I was able to draw empirical data from my sources, I was also able to establish kinship with my respondents, from TV journalists to celebrities to reality game show contestants. It is also in writing this book that I became a netizen. In my attempt to enter the world of cyberspace as merely a methodological strategy from where to craft my inquiries, I eventually became an active participant in the online discussions in Pinoyexchange as a “PEXer,” an avid member of the Facebook community, and a blogger managing my own site.

The human body also became a space of interest to me, being someone who has been mystified by the centrality of the body in our discourses, even as we try harder to cover and hide it. It is here where I was able to engage the pleasures of having my body re-worked in a gym and rejuvenated by alternative medicine that started just as efforts to put some methodological rigor and adopt participant observation techniques in my research to ensure a more immersed form of inquiry, but has become rituals that I have come to associate with a lifestyle that made my body sexy and healthy not only for my private satisfaction, but for the pleasure of being the object of public admiration. While I could be accused of succumbing to the power of the dominant body narratives, this made me realize the complexity of human choices that could not simply be limited to submission and defiance, that one can still be empowered by refusing to be beholden to this simplistic dichotomy. It made me realize that repression is not just about submitting to dominant narratives, but also comes when you un-problematically submit to constructs that fix your position as one that is supposed to be repressed. It is also in this regard that while my inquiry into the public narratives of the body enabled me to learn about the private pains of commercial sex workers, it also unsettled what I thought was a stable ground for my theorizing that fixed the identity of prostituted women as always disempowered and without choices. That single encounter with a sexual worker in Calamba City has seriously confronted my own academic biases and has motivated me to think outside the box of theoretical politics drawn from long years of having feminists as friends, into a more nuanced appreciation of how different, and how powerful and theoretically sophisticated the ordinary reflections from marginalized identities and objectified bodies are.

The university is an easy place for me to inquire into. It is my natural roaming ground. It is also where I encountered most of my pains, even as it is also a place where I asserted my own political identity. The inspiration that led me to write this book is in fact drawn less from my theoretical readings of the French cultural theorists, or of Foucault. While they provided the templates from where I crafted my narratives, as they also provided me what may have appeared as my ideological framework for engaging my own political projects, what actually inspired me more to write this book was how I experienced institutionalized disempowerment in a university setting, and was further cemented when I still felt this even at a time when I already occupied a position of administrative leadership. It really made me realize how fluid, and how contentious ordinary and everyday power relations are, how inadequate the meta-narratives of the dead white men of political theory could be, and how limited our dominant tools of political inquiry have become.

Writing a book about the politics of ordinary and everyday experiences may be too theoretically avant garde, and I may court accusations of lacking performativity, or usefulness. This may be the “truth” for others, but it is far from my own truth. This book has an extremely performative value, not only as it was able to exorcise my personal pains, but more importantly, it is a concrete step in providing a compelling story to tell against the dominance of statist political science. It is my own stake in a discipline to which I migrated from a totally different field in the natural sciences, but within which I also found myself lost. This book is a narrative of how I recovered my own ground.

This book touched on the logic of cultural production as a domain of contestations, and posited that the dynamics by which these are institutionalized through our narratives is a complex game of those who assert their power to dominate and those who challenge them by engaging in a complex array of acts of resistance, from open contestations to the deployment of hidden and everyday weapons of the weak. This book is at the heart of this dynamics. I showed that a book could also be a narrative of resistance, in as much as it can also be a political project. This book is an artifact invested in how I assert my own performativity, narratives and templates as my way of speaking loudly to the power or truth and desire, as a body of knowledge the production of which has brought me much pleasure. It is also a vehicle by which I was able to recuperate the authenticity of my political identity, even as I proposed modalities by which others can recuperate theirs. Finally, its redemptive power lies in how I was able to build its politics around a sense of community with those whom I am writing it for, the ordinary peoples as they negotiate the challenges of their everyday lives, even if I must share the guilt of having presented this in a form which many of them may not be able to access or understand.

The most political moment, however, is when the validation of this book will rest on those whose flaws and imperfections it may have implicated in its texts. I may have to admit that some of the most biting critiques I have launched were directed at those practices which “had” us, and will continue to “have” us. One of the most enlightening epiphany of reflexive scholarship, experienced both in writing and reading texts, is when one realizes that much as we want to search for the enemy in the spaces, narratives and bodies of others, that in fact it lies deeply embodied in our own spaces, narratives and bodies. Realizing such is, however, the moment when redemption begins, and proceeds further as we also discover that our liberation rests not on the permission of others, or on account of the meta-narratives found in the grand ideologies, methodologies and canons of our disciplines, but on the power of our own local, ordinary and everyday small stories, and of those stories that are told about us. This is the whole point of this book. It makes our politics personal, and places our liberation in our own hands. It is about the political that lies in the ordinary and the everyday, not in unfamiliar spaces where narratives of domination and resistance emerge and are contested by others, but in familiar grounds, found here, now, in us.

Alternative Healing, Jolina, Kiko and Bebe Gandanghari

It is evident that the option for healthy and sexy bodies, from enrolling in the gym, to buying diet pills and whitening creams, or getting a liposuction, or patronizing the new generation of food supplements and health drinks, is a luxury which is available only for those who can afford. However, it is also true that if one looks at the bodies of those who work on manual labor, the farmers, mechanics, stevedores, and baggage handlers, we can see toned and muscular bodies matched with flat abs and bulging biceps and triceps. For them, there is probably no need to go to the gym and spend time on the treadmill or in lifting weights, considering that their everyday working lives is already one big gym. They also would probably don’t have to diet, considering that their meager income could only afford them to have simple and low calorie meals, perhaps even too low to a point that many of them end up critically malnourished. This is why while they may have the external appearance of having “bodies to die for,” it is their health that are seriously at risk. This is their tragedy, one that is caused by the lethal articulation between an increasingly toxic environment brought about by natural and anthropogenic alterations of our planet, and an increasingly expensive cost of Western medical health care, coupled with the deployment of unhealthy Western lifestyles, from fast and junk foods to unhealthy vices.

However, relying on Western medical interventions may not even be providing us a cure to the ailments of modernity. Aside from their prohibitive costs, there is also an increasing discomfort with the ferocity by which new drugs and other chemical-based medical interventions are now being pushed by pharmaceutical companies and the medical practitioners who subscribe to them. It is in this domain that the flaws of Western medicine is confronted and engaged by the emergence of alternative medicine which is more herbal, organic and oriental, and in some cases, may be more affordable. The popularity of traditional Chinese medicine, for example, has reappeared even in modern cities like Manila. These herbal-based medical practices that consider disease less of a chemical malfunctioning of the body and more as a result of an internal imbalance within, offer an interesting counter-narrative to the more intrusive, chemical-dependent, and expensive Western medical practices.

On a different note, and based from my own personal encounter with this alternative form of healing, the delivery of treatment and care takes on a different spatial configuration compared to a Western medical facility like a clinic or a hospital. The Chinese doctor I regularly visit in Chinatown is both a doctor and a source of humor, and the space where he works is not just a clinic but an inclusive community. While Western clinical practice subsists on the privacy of doctor-patient encounters, and its associated confidentiality of diagnosis, the clinic in Chinatown offers a public viewing of such encounter. The room where the doctor works is a small one, and his diagnoses of his patients, made in broken Tagalog, are orally delivered not as a confidential reading of what is wrong with the internal balance of the body of the patient, but as a recitation within the hearing distance of those in the room at the time. While those reared in Western medical practice may frown on this as highly unprofessional, it has demystifying effects, even as it makes the whole process a participatory and inclusive exercise of a group in community with each other. Those who know how to speak Chinese in the room automatically become translators both to the Doctor and to the patient; old-timers help those who are new in explaining not only the rules in the clinic, but also provide their testimonials to clear up doubts, or simply to give advise; people who are first in line help facilitate the queue. These are rituals of community that may not necessarily heal the sick, but are definitely composite of a social capital that is enabled as a group of people negotiate the space through which they seek their own healing.

This alternative form of healing, in addition to other indigenous ways, which include the native Filipino art of healing, confronts a dominant narrative in which the focus on the body, its appearance and vitality, is now in the context no longer just of capitalist production, but also of consumption and pleasure in a political economy of images, in which the body becomes now a commodity to be bought and “consumed”, and not just a resource for capitalist production. In this domain, a dominant narrative specifies not only the “look” and the “body” that is to be desired but also how these can be achieved. There is a deployment of dominant templates not only for fashion and diet, but also even on internal wellness and external appearances. These are then institutionalized in a complex array of discourses and narratives that are produced in society through the operation of certain kinds of truth and knowledge as embodied in templates as diverse as fashion rules, appearance norms, and appropriate lifestyles drawing their logic from professions like Western medicine and effectively deployed by efficient marketing.

However, there are those who refuse to go with the flow, as they create their own embodiments. Jolina Magdangal, a movie personality, is well known for creating her own sense of unconventional fashion which transgressed the established norms of color combinations and accessory matching to the consternation of established fashion gurus. In fact, the word “jologs” which refer to crass and of the hoi polloi was coined based on her name. Nevertheless, Jolina was able to impose her sense of alternative fashion to a point that she is now considered a fashion icon herself. Raymund Francis Rustia is a walking conversation piece with his dreadlocks and elaborate adornments that is uncharacteristically out of the ordinary. His appearance in the first season of “Survivor Philippines,” particularly his ethical playing of the game catapulted him to fame. Kiko, as he is popularly called, transgressed the norm provided by society, and instead of ending up being called weird, now appears in mainstream TV as host to an environmentally-oriented show in one of the TV networks. Bebe Gandanghari is another person who breached the norms provided by society with regards to the human body. Formerly a male matinee idol in the name of Rustom Padilla, he came out and admitted his true sexual orientation in one of the most explosive moment of the reality game show “Pinoy Big Brother,” went abroad, and came back totally transformed into a woman figure. Far from being considered a “freak”, Bebe is now accepted less as an anomaly, and more as a transformed body that carry a sense of personal power by deploying a kind of truth that may not be comfortable to the established norms, but nevertheless speaks loudly as a physical counter-narrative to the constrained identities that imprison those who remain in their closets.

Jolina, Kiko and Bebe, as celebrities with bodies who transgressed social forms of control provided powerful images that find meaning among a citizenry that derive their templates from popular culture. Their transgressions offered a counter-narrative to the dominant images that are displayed in the same venues where they exist—the showbiz media, TV and the entertainment industry. In their iconic presence, they are just three of the many more who are not celebrity figures, but who in their ordinary ways have tried to transgress, resist, and confront the disempowering politics by which their bodies are expected to conform to the ideal shape, size and configuration as dictated by the dominant political economy that images the body not only as a project to be produced but also as a resource to be consumed.