On July 8th Join the Global Day of Action to Condemn Duterte’s Anti-Terror Law

July 6, 2020 Trish Fontanilla

By Noelle San Jose

On July 3, 2020, Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte signed into law the “Anti-Terrorism Act of 2020” (‘ATA’)— the latest example of the ever-worsening human rights conditions in the Philippines. It had been sitting on his desk as a bill and would’ve automatically become law on July 9th, but he signed it early. The title of the law is a bit misleading: anti-terrorism is a good thing, right? Well, not the way this law defines “terrorist activities.” For example:

Worker’s strikes / pickets or public protest actions could be interpreted as “terrorism.” Under the law you can be suspected of terrorism if your actions cause or create “intimidation of the public, promotion of messages of fear, intimidation of the government, destruction or destabilization of the economy, politics, and society, to create public emergency and undermine public safety.”
Speaking at a rally, giving a presentation to a class, holding a sign, posting a meme, or video could constitute “terrorism.” According to the law terrorist activities include any “means of speeches, proclamations, writings, emblems, banners or other representations of the same.”

Even worse, accusations will be interpreted by an appointed (not elected) council. The law poses a serious threat to human rights defenders and activists who have long been critical of the government’s bloody drug war, attacks on press freedom, and crackdown on opposition and dissent. It also poses huge risks to privacy by giving the state power to surveill suspected terrorists and arrest activists, journalists, and social media users by simply accusing them of terrorist activities.

The Anti-Terror Law comes at a time when the COVID-19 pandemic in the Philippines remains unresolved, and record-breaking unemployment challenges working class families to put food on the table. If protesting is the language of the unheard, what happens when the right to assemble is seen as terrorism?

As with Martial Law, those hit hardest by Draconian laws such as the Anti-Terror Bill will undoubtedly be poor and working class Filipinos who already suffer from the ever worsening economic and social conditions brought by Duterte’s administration. Those who lift up the issues of poor farmers / peasants and working class Filipinos will be arrested, detained, and even killed in the government’s vain attempt to decisively silence the rising clamour of dissatisfaction and longstanding demands for genuine employment opportunities or accessible and quality social services to name a few.

Get Involved!

Human rights organizations around the world have been watching the Duterte presidency for four years now, and locally Boston PEAR and Malaya Movement Northeast are working hard to ensure activist voices are not silenced under this new law. But we need YOUR help as Filipino Americans to raise awareness and build support for this movement! Here are ways you can get involved:

Join the Global Day of Action to Condemn Duterte’s Anti-Terror Law on July 8th!
- Attend Boston PEAR’s #JunkTerrorLaw Phone Bank Zoom Party
- Follow Malaya Movement Malaya’s Week of Resistance vs Duterte’s ‘Anti-Terror Law, and join a local action against the Anti-Terror Law

Use your voice!
- Call and email your legislators here in the US and ask them to condemn Duterte’s Anti-Terror Law. Ask them to sponsor the Philippine Human Rights Act using Malaya Movement’s sample scripts here. (Find your representative or senator)
- Share the petition supporting the Philippine Human Rights Act on your social media pages
- Write and release statements from your organizations condemning Duterte’s Anti-Terror Law with Malaya’s Movement’s Toolkit! Use the hashtag #JunkTerrorLaw

This is Our Strength: Why Filipinos Celebrate Fiestas and Festivals

March 20, 2019 Trish Fontanilla

By Reina Adriano

In many Filipino homes, there will always be a corner for reverence. You will find an altar with many statues of saints perched on top, with candles, rosaries, and novenas adorning the table where it is set. In the States where I do not have my own altar, I have a makeshift one instead: a small area of my study table is occupied by stampitas—images of the Pope, the Virgin Mary, and Jesus Christ on bookmarks—staring straight at me while I read my notes for grad school, allowing me to remember where my religious roots lie. Beside those on my desk, a rosary hangs around a small lamp. My mother usually chats me up on Messenger in the evenings, “Don’t forget to pray before going to bed,” she says. “And ask for guidance while you’re away.”

“I will, Ma,” I reply. “I always remember.” I close my laptop and head to bed.

I make it a habit to remember that February is the feast day of Santa Misericordia, the patron of my mother’s town--and to some extent, mine--in Legazpi, Albay. It is a small town in Bicol, Philippines. Tourists who visit our place long for beach weather and white sand, clear skies and fresh flowing water, but reality is far from that. Where my mother comes from, there is not much but sea and storms, the wind brushing past from the east side of the peninsula. There is also an active volcano that erupts every so often, spreading lava to the nearby towns and dusting every rooftop with ash. My mother loves visiting our province--both her hometown and my summer spot--in time for the fiestas; my grandparents, too. They are all religious devotees of the Virgin Mary.

There is this concept called Panata, or a votive offering, wherein families pass on the tradition of servicing the Church. The religious statues symbolize the faith of many Filipino households, always revering the saints in altars secluded in a corner of living rooms. The scent of candles, fragrant oils, and incense waft through the house; rosaries, novenas and prayer books decorate the pedestals. It is our way of connecting with divinity. In addition to this, some families give out donations, others volunteer their sons and daughters to partake in the parade for the festivals of their patron saints. In my family’s case, we promised that we would give our patron saint, Nuestra Senora de Santa Misericordia (Our Lady of Mercy), her dress for the parade. It is a tradition that has been upheld and passed on for generations.

My mother is an avid believer of this Panata. It is her promise of attending to Our Lady in exchange for a good life for everyone in our family. Imagine buying fabric, getting the measurements, sewing the dress, adding beads and sequins, and putting ornaments on a statue. Imagine numerous preparations, sleepless nights on choosing the best design “worth wearing by the Virgin Mary,” hands overworked from threading through a needle. My family does all of this because we believe there is value in these acts somewhere in the afterlife. However, my family also does it to show how close-knit we are with the community. Not many people understand our customs and traditions, but it is in that mystery behind the beliefs that make them want to see it for themselves. What’s so amazing about this culture of togetherness that other nationalities find so fascinating? What is so special about the Filipino handaan (feast) and salusalo (get-togethers), the kamayan or boodle fight, and the festival etiquette that is associated with it? Why do we love celebrating feasts and even eating with our hands with the food served on banana leaves as a way of sharing food with the entire community?

Popular festivals such as Masskara, Sinulog, Ati-Atihan, Dinagyang, Panagbenga, and Moriones are part of tourists’ bucket lists. These festivals are mostly connected to our history and Spanish influence due to the 300-year occupation. Needless to say it also anchors us down to our religious history of the dominant Roman Catholicism. Many tourists watch penitential rites during the Lenten Season, thinking its all colors and loud music when in fact it’s all about people reflecting on their faith and their way of life—a time for contemplation and penance. I remember as a child watching other young girls being dressed up as an angel to help in the Salubong for Easter Sunday, as a flowergirl for Flores de Mayo, and as Reyna Elena, if chosen for the Santacruzan parade. It should be worth noting that these are quite different from the livelier festivities tantamount to fun and enjoyment. However, if they stay long enough until Easter they will find themselves surrounded by activities that signify rebirth and renewal. Cash-prized contests such as Bingo and raffle draws, palarong Pinoy (Filipino games), and even beauty pageants are also part of the week-long activities.

The food will not disappoint, either: the adobo, palabok (festival noodles), kare-kare (curry), lumpia (egg rolls), all the smells of palatable cuisine which the household is ready to share to anyone who chooses to enter. Sometimes I would watch my grandmother toil in the kitchen in her own sweat, wondering why she tries to give so much when in fact she receives very little in return. She would let me taste-test a few of her treats, lest she’s expecting a lot of guests knocking on our door. “May bisita, Apo (We have guests, Granddaughter,” she would tell, “Papasukin mo lang (Just let them in).” Never mind the small, cramped living room, or the lack of air-conditioning in the house. We have extra monobloc chairs and mini-electric fans, anyway. Never mind that there isn’t much to go around; what’s important is that we have something to share.

The fact remains that people will always invite you to eat at their place, even when you tell them you're just passing by, or that you just wanted to see the parade, and then go your way after. The locals would even ask you to take some food along before you leave. This is also the reason why we love karaoke over beer and good company while singing to our heart’s desire, why we can fill an entire house with a dozen relatives or more from both sides of the family. We remember our faith and traditions by celebrating these festivals. But we also love to leave the impression that we can always share, despite the strain in financial resources or in times of trouble. We choose to welcome those who are estranged, those who rise above adversity, those who have strength to hope. All I can say is that Filipinos endure. I am miles away from my family right now, but I can imagine everyone happily eating with their hands. I can smell the waft of great food from the kitchen. I can hear the chatting of relatives and the queuing up of songs on the jukebox. Somewhere in the corner, the saints and our offerings. This is our way of community.

We’re always looking for BOSFilipinos blog writers! If you’d like to contribute, send us a note at info@bosfilipinos.com.

Civic Engagement Challenge for #BOSFilipinos

January 23, 2019 Trish Fontanilla

By Helena Berbano

Filipino Americans, despite our long history of being in the United States and advocating on a variety of issues such as standing up for labor, have the reputation of being politically invisible. In fact, Asian Americans generally have the label of being “uncivic.”

Voting rates for Filipino Americans and AAPIs (Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders) also do not paint a civic picture. However, there is more nuance in voter participation if we look beyond the numbers. There is historically less outreach to our communities, limited language translation availability, and a variety of other factors such as the model minority myth.

As a voting advocate, I firmly believe everyone should cast their ballot in every election, but voting is only one way to be civically engaged.

My call-to-action for other @BOSFilipinos in #2k19 is to challenge the perception of Filipino Americans being “uncivic” by continuing to show up. If you’re not sure where to start, here are a few ways you can impact your community:

Support a local business. Civic duty isn’t simply political engagement and voting. It’s investing in your community. Check out Tanam in Somerville, founded by Filipina, Ellie Tiglao.
Go to a city council meeting. All politics is local. Our city council is hard at work making improvements every day, and we’re all invited to join in on the action.
Volunteer for a political campaign. Municipal elections are happening this Fall and then we’re gearing up for a presidential year. Not everyone has declared yet, but keep an eye out for local and presidentia l hopefuls announcing their candidacy.
Attend a grassroots group meeting. There are so many groups in Boston advocating for justice. Go check out Activist Calendar to see what’s going on!
Vote in the municipal election. I know you saw it coming. Please consider getting out and voting. There is significant drop off in non-presidential years, and local politics are just as important. Be sure to cast your ballot.

If you've got other ways you're civically engaged let us know in the comments!

We’re always looking for BOSFilipinos blog writers / subjects! If you’d like to contribute or have any suggestions, feel free to send us a note: info@bosfilipinos.com.

Trying Halo-Halo in Metro Manila

August 15, 2018 Trish Fontanilla

By Roland Calupe

If you haven’t heard of halo-halo before, it’s a Philippine shaved ice dessert that’s amazing to eat, and a great way to beat the heat and humidity in the summertime. The literal translation of halo-halo means “mix mix,” and it’s exactly that with the myriad of ingredients that are included in this tasty dessert.

On my trip to the Philippines in 2015, I tried some of the best versions of halo-halo in Metro Manila. Here are some of the most prominent ones from my trip:

Razon’s of Guagua (Guagua, Pampanga) – The first Razon’s of Guagua opened in 2003, but it all started in Guagua, Pampanga in 1972. Today, Razon’s has grown to over 70+ stores around the Philippines! Their version is a purist’s dream of halo-halo. Besides the shaved ice and milk, there’s only 3 other ingredients: sweetened macapuno (young coconut), sweetened saba banana, and leche flan (custard with a caramel layer). This version just melts in your mouth, and it’s probably my favorite halo-halo!

The Original Digman’s (Bacoor, Cavite) – My Dad’s family is from Cavite, and Digman is a barangay (barrio) of Bacoor. It’s actually really hard to go to the original Digman in Bacoor because the success and popularity of the original has spawned a multitude of other Digman’s Halo-Halo restaurants in the area. Some of the locals say that it dates back to the 1930s. This version of halo-halo contains a lot of ingredients, and is more consistent with what you may see at a Filipino restaurant in the U.S. It has saging na saba (saba banana), white beans, sago (starch from palm stems), garbanzo beans, red mung beans, nata de coco (jelly from fermented coconut water), jackfruit, sugar palm fruit, ube halaya (purple yam jam), red and white gulaman (fruit jellies), ube ice cream, and leche flan. All the ingredients come together with the ice and condensed milk to make a slushy-style halo-halo that you eat with a spoon, and drink straight from the glass it’s served in. All the ingredients are prepared fresh daily, and it makes their version of this dessert really come together.

Milkyway Café (Makati City, Manila) – This version of halo-halo has similar ingredients to Digman’s but they have been an ice cream shop since the 1950s. Their halo-halo has leche flan, preserved fruits, ube, pinipig (toasted grains), and milk. You’ll really enjoy the flaky ice that they serve, as it goes perfectly with these ingredients. When you get it topped with their ice cream, it’s extra special. This easily could be anyone’s favorite version of halo-halo if they try it here first and decide never to go anywhere else!

Kabigting’s (Paralaya, Arayat, Pampanga) – Kabigting’s started in the 70s and their version of halo-halo has only a few ingredients: creamed corn, mashed white beans, and carabao’s milk pastillas (milk-based candies) along with extra finely shaved ice. As you can probably tell by now, ice is a big deal when it comes to halo-halo, and Kabigting might just have the best ice around. This version may be simple, but all the ingredients come together nicely. You can find Kabigting’s branches throughout Metro Manila these days, as they’ve expanded to several locations throughout the years.

So if you ever get a chance to go to Manila, let me know which version you like and respond in the comments below!

Note from the BF team: If you’re ambitious and can’t get to a halo-halo spot, check out this article in Filipino Kitchen to try making it at home!

We’re always looking for BOSFilipinos blog writers / subjects! If you’d like to contribute or have a suggestions, feel free to send us a note: info@bosfilipinos.com.

Vin Diesel* Goes to Manila: Five Things I Learned in the Philippines

February 7, 2018 Bianca Garcia

by Matt Nagy

Here's a picture of me (*not Vin Diesel) with the SM Aura mall security guard carrying a rifle.

Hello there! My name is Matt, and I am married to one of the BOSFilipinos co-founders, Bianca. I’ve always lived on the east coast, sharing my modest time on this earth between New York and New England. I never really traveled before I met my wife. I was always told you can travel and explore the world with your partner-in-crime, but I never expected the chance to see and experience the Philippines.

2017 was my first time overseas (besides the Canadian side of Niagara Falls) and luckily for you all I chronicled some of my experiences while I was there. Below are the top five things I learned while I was in the Philippines:

The traffic is unreal. You will only understand this once you go there.

My wife and her friends complain constantly about the traffic in the Philippines. You can only understand how bad it really is when you are actually in the middle of traffic in Manila. The night we arrived, we were welcomed by the heavy, dense, humid, post-rain air. We gathered up our bags and hopped in the family car. We made our way into the heart of Makati, the business district. As we got further and further from the airport, I was nearly blinded by these massive electronic billboards, none like which I have ever seen. I made the mistake of changing my focus to the road in front of us. And to the left of us. And to the right. We were sandwiched in what appeared to be gridlocked traffic. I started to learn very quickly that the traffic here is intense, but it is also an ordered chaos. So much so that we were often inches from giant tour buses and jeepneys (Filipino jeep taxis). There is a certain sigh of relief you get once you descend from the highways of Manila and make your way towards the subdivisions (gated residential areas).

My favorite Filipino meal.© Bianca Garcia — My favorite Filipino meal.
© Bianca Garcia

Filipino Breakfast is the best.

We ate outside in the mornings, on the back porch. The cool, balmy morning breeze lifted the rich scent of soft garlic fried rice, called sinangag, from the confines of a hastily set table. The true definition of eating family style in the Philippines features multiple dishes and suitable condiments, all sharing space on a lazy susan.

I would often pair the sinangag with itlog (fried egg) and longganisa (Filipino sausage). This common breakfast combination is appropriately called longsilog (the combination of the words longganisa, sinangag, and itlog). The creamy egg yolk, folded into a warm bed of rice was perfectly complemented by the rich crunchiness of the sausage. I would wash it all down with a refreshing glass of fresh calamansi juice. Calamansi is a Filipino citrus fruit, small and round, looks like a baby lime, and very tart in flavor.

Upon completion of this carb- and protein-rich greasy delight, Bianca’s dad would come bearing fresh mangoes from a local market. Without a doubt, these are the best mangoes I have ever had. This would be another staple item to my meals while at my in-laws. It turns out that these are in fact not even very good mangoes, because they were not in season during the time we visited (January). Filipino mangoes, like most mangoes, are best in the summer. Could have fooled me. I’ll take your crappy Philippine mangoes over our “good” US mangoes any day.

Graffiti along Diliman Avenue on the way to the UP Town Center mall.© Matt Nagy — Graffiti along Diliman Avenue on the way to the UP Town Center mall.
© Matt Nagy

The rich and the poor are neighbors.

We arrived in the Philippines at night, so the only thing I was focused on was the giant backlit billboards, the angry traffic, and when I was finally going to be able to shower after 30 hours of travel. The first full day we were in the Philippines was the day I truly understood what it’s like to live in a third world country.

We spent one afternoon in U.P. Town Center. It is a sprawling mall complex sharing a mix of indoor and outdoor stores and restaurants, in the University of the Philippines area. We ate ramen and I bought a pair of sneakers. Normal activities you might expect in a first-world country.

But on the way there, nestled in between our secluded subdivision and the mall, were these small, metal, roughly constructed shanties and storefronts, representing a metaphysical window into the impoverished life that many experience here.

Upon returning to Bianca’s home from a day of shopping and eating, I was reminded of the safety and comfort of a gated community, and the surrounding area of elegant Mediterranean-style and ultra-modern homes of their subdivision. Seeing these extremes back to back made me realize how good I have it. It's one of the most interesting parts of visiting the Philippines.

Being a minority here is like being a celebrity.

I truly understand what it’s like to be a minority now. Fortunately for me, I only experienced the positive aspects of being a minority. There were times in my trip where I could see a lot of heads turning in my direction, people looking up from their lunch to react to seeing a white guy in the same restaurant, and the noticeable pause in conversations when people caught me in the corner of their eye. This isn’t the case everywhere. There are a few communities where there is a relatively large white population, but so few and far in between that even I gawked at white people when I saw them in the mall. I will say that the best, most flattering part was when the family driver told Bianca that I look like Vin Diesel. Just to be clear, I might be a dumb-looking bald white guy, but I look nothing like Vin Diesel. Whether you think that’s a good thing or a bad thing is up to you.

Filipino people are some of the most welcoming people in the world.

Last, but certainly not least - despite the fact that I am a dumb-looking bald white guy, I never felt like I was the only non-Filipino in the room. At every meal, every celebration, and every other meeting in between, I felt like I have always lived in the Philippines. The way I was embraced by Bianca’s family and friends was nothing short of amazing.

I’m looking forward to going back and experiencing the warm hospitality again, seeing more of what the Philippines has to offer, and eating more longsilog. I mean lechon. I mean Jollibee.