EASTWIND, part 2, journals of a drifter

by Bernie Lopez

Author's Note. This is an excerpt from the unpublished book Wings and Wanderlust, the Art of Discovering Yourself. There are life-long lessons on the road of adventure that I learned in my youth. You can say I took my Doctorate in Adventure from the University of the World. Let me share small portions of that intense period I called eastwind. For they are very relevant today in our age of confusion. As a young man, I did what few Filipinos dared. I hitchhiked 25,000 kilometers for 18 months through 18 European countries with just $1,000 in my pocket. I have written a book about it.

Portugal 1976. After the fiesta of the bulls, I headed towards Lisbon. I wanted to make a pilgrimage to Fatima by walking 80 kilometers from Lisbon.

I hated New York because, as a 'rat-racer' (ie, Systems Analyst), it was a spiritual desert to me, absurd and irrelevant. I would relish New York later only after eastwind, the name I gave to my adventure, radically changed me and I was no longer a 'rat-racer'. Eastwind was not really a quest for adventure. It was an escape. I was looking not so much for new places but more for myself. My pilgrimage to Our Lady of Fatima was to pray that I find myself somewhere in this vast planet.

 

I normally kept my backpack below six kilos. For the long hike from Lisbon to Fatima, I reduced it further to two kilos, just a sleeping bag, a wine skin bag, food for the day, extra shirt and a toothbrush. Lesson of the day - simplicity is a virtue that can make you happy just as complexity can make you sad.

 

Gradually, the big highway narrowed to a country road. The romantic Portugese countryside made me calm and mellow. I did a leisurely three kilometers an hour for four to five hours a day. The entire trek was 80 kilometers for seven days. I prayed the rosary two to three times a day as I walked. I slept under the stars. I had a candle for light, the cheapest and lightest. One evening when it drizzled, I asked a farmer if I could sleep in a smelly sheep shed, reminding me that it was one such shed where the Creator of the universe was born in all humility.

 

In two villages, rowdy kids came up to me shouting 'perigrino'. They smothered me with fruits from the nearby farm. I would brush my teeth in the village fountains. I alternated wine and milk in my skin bag. Too much wine was not good for hiking. Everyday, I was awed by new discoveries.

 

On the last evening, I slept atop a knoll under an olive tree. In the pink misty dusk, from the distance, the bells tied to the necks of sheep pealed like music. It was the gift of peace from Our Lady that overwhelmed me almost to tears.

I reached Fatima in the evening and decided to sleep at the doorstep of the giant church. The church bells started pealing at four in the morning. At dawn, I joined a group hearing mass. The pilgrimage was a spiritual cleansing from my worldliness in my adventures. Lesson of the day - prayers are answered. Long after eastwind and the Fatima pilgrimage, I would go back home and become a writer.

 

I headed north towards Coimbra. Night overtook me there. I had no place to go. I walked helplessly along the highway until three kids came up to me. I asked them where I could sleep. They pointed me to a place. It was a sand bar in the middle of the beautiful Mondego river. We waded through shallow waters. One kid carried my guitar on his head. They left me there.

 

My candle would not light in the wind. In the middle of the night, it began to drizzle. If it rained, I had nowhere to go. I went inside my plastic sheet which was a tube. Finally, the drizzle stopped. The dawn bathe the river gold. To my surprise, the three kids came with my breakfast - a hot roll of bread and some cheese. Lesson of the day - people not places make your day.

 

From Coimbra, I got my longest ride of the entire 18 months, all the way to Meximieux in Switzerland. In fact, the British oil rig diver who picked me up in his snow-white MGB 1.6 litre sportscar wanted me to ride with him all the way to London. That would have been a record ride. But I was not after records. I wanted to see friends in Winterthur in Switzerland.

 

We had a problem at Marseille. I will not make him pay for me in a five star hotel he was to stay in. So we looked for a place where I could sleep. A beach loomed in sight and he dropped me off there.

 

Tough luck. It was a private beach. They were all urban people in their trunks and bikinis. Desperate, I went in anyway. There was no guard. But they were all staring at me. Perhaps I was not wanted. A good looking woman came up to me and spoke rapid French. I took out a tiny French English dictionary from my pocket and started to search for words. I stumbled through my French, no grammar or tense, just infinitives and root words.

That broke the ice. They all smiled and dispersed. The French hate people who answer in English. They admired me for trying hard to speak broken French with a dictionary. The woman gave me a glass of red wine, then another and another. By the time I knew it, the beach was deserted and all mine. They left for their homes. I slept nicely with the red in my head. The beautiful kids of Mondego river flashed in my mind.

 

The next day, the diver came at the crack of dawn. We were on our way. Portugal was but a tiny chapter of eastwind. The lessons you learn on the road are mind boggling. Travel changes you, the deepest part of you.

beteljuice7@gmail.com 

EASTWIND part 1, journals of a drifter

by Bernie Lopez

Author's Note. This is an excerpt from the unpublished book Wings and Wanderlust, the Art of Discovering Yourself. There are life-long lessons on the road of adventure that I learned in my youth. You can say I took my Doctorate in Adventure from the University of the World. Let me share small portions of that intense period I called eastwind. For they are very relevant today in our age of confusion. As a young man, I did what few Filipinos dared. I hitchhiked 25,000 kilometers for 18 months through 18 European countries with just $1,000 in my pocket. I have written a book about it.

 

Portugal 1976. It was early Spring and I headed north after a winter sojourn in Morocco and Canary Islands. Hitchhiking from Cadiz with a Spanish guitar I bought in Madrid, I entered the Portuguese border, hoping to catch the wild fiesta at Vila Franca de Xira.

 

It was dusk when I hit Vila Real de Santo Antonio. Not knowing where I would sleep, I was eyeing a nearby park. I preferred to be burdened by a guitar rather than a tent and risked the rain because the guitar was an absolute magic wand.

 

I was frugal because I wanted to stretch my money for the long trek. I was also brave and resourceful. I headed for a noisy bar where no one was sober. I wanted a free meal. So I took out my guitar and started singing. To catch attention, I sang a lively Christmas song, Ang Pasko ay Sumapit, right in the middle of Spring. There was absolute silence. Half way through the song, a large mug of beer slid in front of me. At the end of the song, there was a giant ham sandwich escorting the beer.

 

After the song, they told me to drink and eat. Someone took over the guitar. The Portugese are like Filipinos, very warm, very boisterous, very drunk. They were so happy seeing me finish the beer in two gulps and the sandwich in six bites. They were completely amused with my broken Spanish. On my fifth mug, the noise was going into a crescendo, but I did not care.

 

Someone asked me where I was going to sleep. I said I did not know. He told me I could sleep in his place. I said yes instantly, as it was better than the park if it rains. Another guy approached, asking the same question. I told him I was going to sleep in the first guy's place. The second guy insisted I sleep at his place. The two argued who was going to be my host. The heated argument became a brawl. They were on the floor. Everyone was screaming. It was pandemonium.

 

I slipped away quietly and ended up sleeping at the park. There were only three instances when the rain caught me in all 18 months - Milan, Las Palmas and Algarve. In my inebriated state, watching the stars from my suite, I felt elated that complete strangers who liked me would fight over me. I was enthralled by the raw spirit of the Portuguese. Lesson of the day - there are times you should never plan, let circumstance plan for you. The more you plan, the less you get. In our chaotic world today, sometimes not planning is the best plan.

Next day, I hitchiked to Algarve where there was a camping ground. I wanted to wash my denims. I had only two pairs of pants on the road, one I wore. It was hard to wash heavy jeans by hand. I had to twist it around a post to squeeze out the water. A Brit came up to me and said, "Looks like rain." He did not have a tent like me.

 

He introduced me to two lovely Canadian girls with a bottle of Jack Daniels. Between the four of us, we had a rowdy evening with Jack D. I whispered to the Brit that we should sleep near their tent so that if it rains, they would take us in. He winked at me. For the first time, I was praying for rain. And it did rain, and cats and dogs at that.

 

We slipped into their tent and there were the four of us like nice sardines. They were giggling but believe me, it was water water everywhere but not a drop to drink, if you know what I mean. Lesson of the day - people on the road take care of each other, as I often experienced.

 

The fiesta at Vila Franca de Xira was famous because they let two bulls loose in a fenced portion of the main streets. Only the brave and the drunk dared tease the bulls, but not me. My valor was of a different kind. After the fireworks at dusk, I strolled along the streets. Everyone was out in the open roasting sardinas frescas and drinking agua pe. Agua pe was cheap but powerful red wine. Agua pe means 'foot wine', referring to when they wash their feet after they crush the grapes. Do not to take that literally.

 

It was their costumbre to give to all passersby roasted sardines and shot or two of agua pe. After two short blocks, I was woozy. The people were as hospitable and noisy as Filipinos. I felt at home.

 

Lesson of the day - people are more exciting than panoramic views and ancient castles. Throughout eastwind, I traveled to meet people rather than see places.

beteljuice7@gmail.com 

BAYANI’S KALAYAAN FIASCO

By Bernie Lopez

MMDA Director Bayani Fernando is the engineer-wanna-be who designed the expensive Kalayaan elevated u-turn which is presently under construction. Engineers I interviewed have termed it ‘Jurassic’, ‘irreversible’ and ‘defying international standards of traffic and safety’.

 

The core problem lies in Bayani’s perception that he is infallible and criticisms are simply ignored. Bayani’s bullheadedness is the issue. Kalayaan reflects not only a first-class engineering blunder, but also bad governance. The senior transportation engineers I interviewed have been building interchanges for decades.

 

First is an anecdote before we talk of Kalayaan. A World Bank mission came to town to review the infrastructure projects it was funding. Bayani asked to join the inspection. The consultant said there was no need. Bullheaded Bayani insisted, wanting to influence the review. So the mission gave in. Standing at an intersection, Bayani told the consultant what he thought should be done. On the spot, he made a sketch and handed it to the consultant, who suggested he pass it on to his designers first and make a formal technical study.

 

Bayani was so angered that he complained to head of the mission. When the consultant found out about that, he confronted Bayani and told him to complain directly to him next time. Infrastructure engineers say that the World Bank consultants today hesitate to give a go signal to Engineer Bayani’s infrastructure projects, many of which he himself designed from cloud nine. One such Bayani design rejected by the World Bank was the dual interchanges at SM North and R

 

Time and again, Bayani resorts to vengeance when his ideas are turned down. In Eastwood, he wanted to build a footbridge. When it was turned down, he closed all the u-turns to make it harder for all to move around. If you are in Eastwood and want to turn left on C-5, you have to go all the way to the Libis underpass to make a u-turn. However, Bayani was forced to open one u-turn because DILG Secretary Ronnie Puno uses that u-turn. There are higher GMA boys than Bayani.

 

Now, it will be easier to understand Kalayaan. The unfortunate thing about the Kalayaan interchange is – it is irreversible. To undo the blunder and build a proper long-term facility, the entire P600-million (it could be as large as a billion, engineers suggest) facility has to be torn down.

 

Bullheaded Bayani is also Band-aid Bayani. The Kalayaan interchange is the epitome of band-aid make-shift engineering. The engineers told me that the maximum speed of traffic depends on radius of curvature. The sharper the turn, the slower you go. The engineers showed me a table relating speed to curvature. The table gives the maximum of 20 meters curvature for urban facilities, the sharpest turn allowable, where maximum speed was set at 30 kph. The Jurassic Kalayaan has a curvature of 10 meters, which is not allowed by international or DPWH standards, because this is not only accident-prone for a heavily-used two lane turn, it also causes more traffic. In other words, Bayani’s P600 million caper will cause rather than prevent traffic. The many 16 wheelers passing through the C-5 Kalayaan interchange, need two lanes to make the turn, which will also cause more traffic. In basketball, we call it ‘forcing through’.

 

Bayani’s blunder was unfortunately backed up by Malacanang. DPWH Secretary Hermogenes Ebdane was supposed to make a presentation to GMA of a three-level interchange at Kalayaan. Bayani intercepted the ball and made his own presentation before Ebdane could stand up. GMA applauded Bayani’s blunder. Ebdane said there was no need to present since the boss had made a decision. Did the DPWH evaluate and approve Kalayaan, which is required by law? The engineers doubted it. Bad governance, especially from the very top, is the reason for all our woes. Knee-jerk decisions is disastrous governance.

 

In that presentation, Bayani said his concept was cheaper. He did not say it was unsafe or would cause more traffic, just cheaper. That was why GMA applauded his Jurassic design. The Kalayaan design defies all principles of cost-benefit. It simply talks about cost and forgets about benefit. In fact, the Kalayaan interchange has no benefit in terms of traffic flow and safety. Bayani says his design would save P3.6 million a year because there is no need for traffic lights, traffic aides, signage and other peripheral traffic control factors. Bayani did not know the ten-fold savings of P365 million a year for commuters who would be using less gas in a straight rather than curved elevated facility.

 

The engineers suggested that a straight elevation is better than a curved one, similar to the three-level Quezon Boulevard – EDSA interchange, which was the same design suggested by Ebdane for Kalayaan. The engineers suggested that a two-level would suffice at Kalayaan so it would be cheaper. They point out that for the same length, a straight road is by far cheaper to build than a curved one. The straight elevation option is safer, requires less gas, and yields better traffic flow.

 

Bayani has an attitude problem because he is not open to criticism. He sees his visionary design as creative and is blind to its weaknesses. Bayani is a symbol today of extremely dangerous and bad governance. The saying goes, “Arrogance is dangerous. Ignorance is dangerous. But the two together is deadly.” 

beteljuice7@gmail.com 

WHY MERALCO CAN DEFY GMA

By Bernie Lopez

Meralco is bigger than meets the eye, having allies that Malacanang cannot just ignore. These allies are big time energy multinationals which have connections in high places, namely the same diplomatic and lending institutions that have been pressuring our government for decades now.

Both Meralco and First Philippine Holdings are controlled by the Lopezes. First Philippine Holdings owns 60% of two Independent Power Producers (IPPs) which sell power to Meralco, namely San Lorenzo and Sta. Rita. The 'ally' is a big powerful energy multinational, British Gas, which owns 40% of both San Lorenzo and Sta. Rita.

 

The other multinational is an American giant, the former Ogden Corp., which owns a big portion of Quezon Power. The Lopezes, as far as documents show, do not have equity in Quezon. But Meralco also buys power from Quezon. These three IPPs form a sinister 'energy triumvirate' which is the cause of all the rate increases Meralco has been illegally passing on to customers. Meralco can defy pressures from Malacanang and the public to lower illegal rate increases because it hides behind the skirts of these powerful energy multinationals.

 

Since circa 2001, the aggregate payments for power purchases of Meralco to the energy triumvirate is a staggering P200 billion based on broad estimates culled from Meralco reports. Meralco in turn passes on these payments to you and I as electricity consumers. In other words, our money goes not to Meralco, the mere conduit, but to the Lopezes and their multinational allies, which will move heaven and earth to protect this huge windfall.

 

Just for the record, the estimated P200 billion is based on payments on power purchases of Meralco to Sta. Rita and San Lorenzo of P15 billion in 2001-2002. If we multiply this by seven years (2001 to the present), the total is P105 billion, even if we wrongly assume no subsequent increases in power purchases. If we include purchases from Quezon Power based on the same average as San Lorenzo and Sta. Rita, we add another P53 billion for a grand total of P158 billion. If we allow conservatively for increases in power purchases after 2001, we have the broad estimate of P200 billion that flows into the pockets of the energy triumvirate and First Philippine Holdings through Meralco.

 

Here is the problem. Even if we ask Meralco for a refund, they are no longer holding the money. We have to run after the energy triumvirate and the First Philippine Holdings. It will not be easy for GMA or the general public to run after these giants, whether through diplomacy or court decisions.

 

To show how the energy triumvirate has been maneuvering to protect its windfall profits, members of both American and European Chambers of Commerce have been giving statements that the EPIRA should not be amended. Why? Because they know the EPIRA is a flawed law that protects Meralco monopoly in spite of EPIRA's articulated intent to break monopoly. EPIRA became a law for rather than against monopoly through the manipulation of its Implementing Rules and Regulation (IRR) by a powerful lobby group with friends in the legislature and even in Malacanang. Enrile is behind the effort to amend the EPIRA.

 

In other words, amending EPIRA will destroy Meralco monopoly and cut off the money pipeline to the IPPs and to the multinationals. It must be noted that the World Bank, in good fate, financed the authoring of the EPIRA and pressured the government to enact it. It did not realize the many loopholes that the powerful lobby group quietly inserted into the EPIRA’s IRR. But even the World Bank is ultimately financed by multinationals, so we have to ask what is its true stand.

 

This is why Meralco is so brave in insisting in its rate increases even if they are illegal. They are illegal because the EPIRA provides that Meralco cannot buy power from IPPs at rates higher than that of Napocor’s. In its website, Meralco admits it bought power ‘from itself ‘ (meaning Lopez to Lopez through Santa Rita and San Lorenzo, a conflict of interest) at generation rate of P4.54 per kilowatt hour in April, which is higher than the current Napocor rate of P4.01. The 53 centavos difference translates to an increase in revenue for Meralco of about P270 million per centavo or a total of a whopping P13.5 billion in a single month, all charged to the beleaguered consumer already being strangled by global prices of oil and food. The rate increases are not only blatantly against the law but are also unilateral and arbitrary.

 

It is unilateral because Meralco says the Energy Regulatory Commission (ERC) was informed, but informing does not mean approval. It is arbitrary because Meralco gave a lame excuse that it increased generation rates because WESM rates were extremely high. This is true but Meralco purchases at WESM are a meagre 9% whereas they are a huge 55% from its affiliated IPPs.

 

Let us take a quick look at solons as friends and foes of Meralco. Joker Arroyo and Peter Cayetano were asked by a militant group, Kasangga, to stop defending Meralco and prove they are pro-poor as they say they are. They also cited Pia Cayetano, Teddy Casino and Teofisto Guingona without giving details. Enrile wants EPIRA amended. Miriam is asking for IPP records of sales to Meralco, which may spill a can of worms.

beteljuice7@gmail.com  

ARROCEROS RESURRECTED

by Bernie Lopez 

If you were to see an environment map of Manila, you will see a lone green dot in a sea of gray. That green dot is Arroceros Park in Plaza Laughton in the heart of the city, the rice port of Chinese traders during Spanish times.

This was where all the rice across the archipelago converged to feed the burgeoning Manila community. When the British invaded this Spanish colony, the local Chinese sided with them because they were looked down upon and oppressed by the Spaniards. Yet, ironically, the Chinese controlled local trade. When the Spaniards massacred them after defeating the British, there was a momentary halt in local trade. Today, this former rice port is the bastion of the lowly tree. The Arroceros forest park is the only one surviving in the entire metropolis, symbol of Mother Nature slowly being swallowed up by Man's concrete jungle.

 

The Arroceros park was a gift from then First Lady Ming Ramos and then Manila Mayor Alfredo Lim in 1993 to the green ladies of Winners Foundation, which pruned it and made it greener. When Mayor Atienza, now an 'environmentalist' in GMA's cabinet, took over in 2003, the Arroceros park suddenly died. In a series of maneuvers, the 'environmentalist' yanked the park from the hands of the green ladies, decimated more than half of the forest, only to put up a building. There was one giant ancient hardwood that was felled secretly, worth about half a million in the hardware store. That brought tears to some of the green ladies.

 

Atienza used his goons to disrupt the placard bearing green matrons, who did not hesitate to descend from their pristine palaces and face this rowdy bunch face to face. The National Historical Institute and the National Museum, supposed ally of the environment and of our heritage, cowered at the feet of the powerful Atienza. The green ladies were helpless to contain the tree-killing environmentalist.

 

Atienza was also the killer of a nearby forest park, the Meyhan Garden, which was actually an extension of Arroceros. Alas, Meyhan is now a bus station, spewing carbon monoxide for the glory of global warming. It was reported that Atienza had friends in the Chinese community with a plan to convert Arroceros and the rest of neighboring city lots into a giant mall. Another park, the UN Gardens was developed by Empire East. Developers do not have to kill green parks in order to develop. There are other places. Green parks should be untouchables.

 

When Alfredo Lim resurrected in the Manila mayoralty race against the younger Atienza in July 2007, like a Phoenix, Arroceros also resurrected. The very first order of Mayor Lim was to restore the green park to the green ladies. A Manila Seedling Bank inventory in 2003 revealed that there were 8,481 tress in Arroceros. When the green ladies returned, geodetic engineer Agustin Perida reported there were 1,423 trees left, which survived the clutches of the 'environmentalist'. The resolute green ladies did not hesitate to start all over again in a new reforestation effort.

 

The Winners vision was to make the park a meeting place of artists and students, like Greenwich in New York, Soho in London. We are still far from the sheer size of the art places in these affluent cities, but Winners promise we will somehow get there in time. Even during the time of Atienza who padlocked the gate, the artists would sneak in through a backdoor into the park on Sundays. Students would climb the fence when no one was looking. The artists would awe the student artist-wanna-bees with their impromptu art, from watercolor to charcoal pencil to pastel to plain Mongol pencil no. 2.

 

On the recent celebration of Earth Day, the spirit of the park under the Winners tutelage came back with vengeance. A large crowd gathered at Arroceros beneath the trees. There was a painting contest with judges from our prestigious art community. About a hundred contestants aged 4 to 12 joined the contest. The affair was in cooperation with the Cultural Center of the Philippines, chaired by Nestor Jardin, who was the chair of the judges. Buddhists from the Chaitaniga (I hope I spelled that right) Community graced the occasion with their spiritual chants. The 3-piece Harmony Band played. Norie Onchiako and friends also graced the morning park concert. Artists from various art associations converged like the good old days. But this time, they did not have to pass the backdoor.

 

Winners conducts exclusive art auctions for the hoi poloi every once in a while in a five star hotel, to help the artists sell their stuff. Arroceros resurrected is their tool for not only nature lovers but also art lovers. I was thinking that Winners could perhaps forge a win-win situation by asking the former goons of Atienza to be part of the park today, as forest keepers perhaps. After all, there is no more war and everybody is a winner at Arroceros resurrected.

beteljuice7@gmail.com