Monday, February 12, 2007

a trip to Comval


If I were to borrow Ma'am Inday's affirmation -- even if it's bordering on cliche -- everyday you'll learn something new. Perhaps not new as in new new but something that will prove useful somewhere along the road called life. And of course, without stretching it, you only get to experience this with people way beyond your years.

I went to Compostela Valley, particularly in Monkayo, for a prep meeting with the IP datus last Tuesday. We had the actual meeting in Davao here today with Dr. Walter Brown of Philex Inc. which turned out to be the president of the shoe company W. Brown. I learned this also while on the way to ComVal. I have heard Dr. Brown's name ever since I got here, but even if the obviousness was screaming at me in the face I didn't know until then.

We were also supposed to go to Diwalwal, the conflict-torn mining community, which up to now, hasn't found its peace. But there was an enormous storm brewing so it was postponed. The IP community there unfortunately are at a losing end. Though there are initial undertakings there geared towards community development. One datu confessed that despite decades of toiling, they haven't got a single gram of gold ore which is in the very heart of their ancestral domains. Sadly, they have become beneficiaries for a long time when in fact, they should be partners. They too, should be emancipated from such mentality in order to for them to move forward.

1 comment:

jayclops said...

Yup. It is. The hotel can't seem to get the the spelling right. Read this. PHILIX and PHELIX and FELIX. What the?

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a f—king big television. Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose a three piece suit on hire purchased in a range of f—king fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the f—k you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing f—king junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, f—ked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose a future. Choose life . . . But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got heroin?

Renton, Trainspotting