Greeting Earthshine

Greeting Earthshine

Michael A. Bengwayan

I woke up 3 am, the rain at it’s worst. My mind kept telling me I have to meet my deadline now or call it goodbye but the dark  cold four corners of the room and the battle between rain and wind made me retreat back to bed. Nothing is more welcome than a warm cot and two blankets at a time like this. Yet suddenly, I was awake again. It was still. Calm. I peered through the curtains,  there lay the forest. Quiet and at peace. Is the tempest gone? Bred by curiosity,  I  stepped out of the balcony, only to be met by the cold wind which jolted all sleep was left in me. Behold, there are stars in the sky. The rain is gone. So is the fog. Did Helen take it all away? If indeed, it has, it’s a miracle.

Grotesque shadows danced in the forest failing to hide they are but pine branches eagerly waiting for the sun. Will it come? Seeing me, Kingkong stretched all his frame, seven feet long from front to back paws, nudging me, eager for a run. I walked to the  gate and swung it open, Kingkong bolted out,  splashing on the deep puddles that reflect whatever is left of the sky.   

Inside, not a sound but the clock. No movement except the curtains wisps. PAGASA could not have been wrong again. It said moonsoon and heavy rains will linger for a week. If it was,  I’m glad of it. One of the best times that it can be wrong. Beyond the skyline, stratus clouds formed pushing away the stormy nimbus, writing words on the horizon far from any meaning to suit my dull mind’s perfection.

In the twig fortress, a cricket, nay, two Jiminys cry out, making up for lost time wasted by rainy days. I think back of my family, my grandson, perhaps with cirrus hair still cuddled asleep, lulled by the rain’s gently patters on the eaves last night.

Life is full of beauty. I can’t help noticing it. Beyond the billion stars, is always the sun. Welcoming. Today, I shall notice the bumblebee. The fallen millions of pine needles. Smell the departed rain,  and feel the wind in my face. I shall live my live once again, to its full potential. And fight for dreams that shine for life.

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http://bt.com.bn/home_news/2007/12/09/toyota_award_for_bt_contributor

Toyota Award for BT contributor

BANDAR SERI BEGAWAN

Sunday, December 9, 2007

AN ENVIRONMENTAL non-government organisation (NGO) of the Philippines called PINE TREE, founded and led by writer-journalist and environmentalist Dr Michael A Bengwayan, who also contributes for The Brunei Times, was one of the 12 NGOs to win the 2007 Toyota Environmental Award.

The winners were announced by Toyota on its web pagehttp://www.toyota.co.jp/en/environment/ecogrant/.

The Toyota Environmental Activities Grant Programme is a corporate philantropic activity by the Toyota Motors Corporation to support environmental revitalisation worldwide for the purpose of sustainable development. A total of 530 applications (373 under general grants and 157 under small-scale grants) were submitted by environmental non-profits in Japan and overseas during the application period that started April 27, 2007 and ended June 29. After serious deliberations in the selection committee meeting (Chair: Dr Keiko Nakamura, Director General, JT Biohistory Research Hall), Toyota Motor Corporation, together with experts from Japan and overseas, concluded that the grant of 160 million yen would be awarded to 27 projects (12 under general grants and 15 under small-scale grants).

The award allows the 12 NGOs to conduct activities that support sustainable development. PINE TREE won an award worth US$75,000 to support a project called Energising farms and households through Bio-Fuel Production and Extraction of Petroleum Nut (Pittospforum resineferum) Cordillera Region, Philippines.

The Brunei Times

SM Will Turn Luneta Hill Into a Deadland By Michael A. Bengwayan

SM Will Turn Luneta  Hill  Into a Deadland

By Michael A. Bengwayan 

SM Will Turn Luneta Hill Into a Deadland
By Michael A. Bengwayan

Luneta Hill in Baguio is a historic site and the only place at the Central Business District that has a pine forest of almost three hundred pine trees old pine trees and other introduced tree species. Its contribution to oxygen production and cleaning smog particulates, carbon sequestration and groundwater holding capacity cannot be refuted, as well as its importance in preventing floods and mudslides.

But what is happening to the hill? SM is killing it and sooner rather than later, the hill will be a deadland.

Not so many years from now, this is what we will see. The security fences will one day be gone. The immense car parks abandoned. Inside, beyond the barricaded doors, the escalators are warped and decayed into terrifying reptilian shapes; beneath the caved-in roof among the broken glass and the smashed tiles, eerie ferns and shadow plants have sprouted. What remnants of signage and advertisements haunt the walls; that the entire place is like some gothic fantasy of the end of the world.

That is because, that is how deadmalls will be. Outside, there are no trees, the last chopped down and replaced with concrete to the last inch to accommodate every possible shopper. The air will not be fresh and welcoming but polluted, humidity-inviting and smog-filled.

The death of a mall in the city will be a symbol of something inherently flawed, disturbed and dormant within our generation. A symbol of our ambivalence towards all things political; or maybe a call to action. A symbol of failed leadership. And citizens obsessed with retail and consumerism.

I and our children were targeted by SM as its first generation consumers of its products in pushing the newly globalised world economy. We became a crucial part of that first surge of globalisation; it formed connections and synapses within our child-minds; we had money to spend. In a one stop shop and forgot our local shops that have provided our needs over the years. SM is an example of the myths, propaganda and big money of business hegemony, infiltrating and taking over Baguio City.

In the years now and to come, the damage that SM will do to shops at a radius of not even 5 kilometers will be tremendous. SM factors the amount of ‘leakage’ they can get from surrounding areas into their development plans. SM is vampiric.

The death of the mall is imminent. Becuase it killed trees and still plan to do so, people will start abandoning the mall. In fact, as I write, I keep getting reports only lowlanders visit the mall, only few Baguioites do. And SM will have to face competition with internet retailers like Amazon that’s forcing malls into closure; But there is something else that will be their undoing, neither is it the recession. It is something endemic to the nature of the unregulated development that spawns malls: market saturation. Vampirism will lead SM out of business.

It will only stop if they stop killing trees now, respect Baguio for what it is and restructure their urban fabric, as well as respect local history rather than their concrete global homogeneity.

The Blue Collar Initiative (BCI) -- Caring for the the Earth, Promoting Livelihood, Reliving Sustainable Gardening Traditions

The Blue Collar Initiative (BCI)

-- Caring for the the Earth, Promoting Livelihood, Reliving Sustainable Gardening Traditions

The Blue Collar Initiative (BCI) is an effort to promote environmental livelihood and conservation through enterprises that promote the FORESTATION AND LIVELIHOOD YOUTH MOVEMENT (FLIYM)

It starts from the ranks of young volunteers who are into earth care–especially on tree planting safe food production. It will be a movement EMPOWERED by the YOUTH. One that will not only ensure REFORESTATION but also provide LIVELIHOOD.

As the region, in particular, and the nation, in general comes into grips with the stark negative environmental realities, it is time for the YOUTH to make their mark, and not only walk their talk. That change must come from them.

The mission of the FLIYM is to empower young people to take responsibility for the environmental and livelihood well-being of their communities. they have entrusted it too long to the older generation and look what it brought them?

The vision is to bridge communication across culture, region, education, and socio-economic backgrounds through collaboration on ecologically and socially responsible environmental enterprises for the Cordillera region. It will be done through sustainable leadership training and the development of for-profit social enterprises funded through microfinancing and resource-sharing.

To be run by the Cordillera Ecological Center other wise know as PINE TREE (Project Initiating Employment and Education), it will have three main projects:

1) Forestation-sustainable agriculture home-based industries that will train youth in sustainable agriculture. They will practice traditional home gardens and plant trees in agricultural areas across in the Cordillera region to arrest soil erosion, improve soil and plant crops to rejuvenate the Cordillera region’s agricultural economy and environment.

2) A hands-on school where students can study regardless of their financial background, that incorporates human values and leadership into its fabric.

3) A market conduit to promote the trainees products so that these can be known and sold (agricultural and artisanal), to stimulate the local economy crowded out by excess importation.

Join us. Write to pinetreephill@gmail.com to know the first class that will be run. Also see: https://www.facebook.com/BlueCollarInitiative or go to: https://www.facebook.com/groups/Atreeaday/

Of God, Trees and Life By MICHAEL A. BENGWAYAN

Of God, Trees and Life
By MICHAEL A. BENGWAYAN


On a windy sunny Wednesday last week, I stopped sowing seeds and stretched my back for a much needed rest as I wiped the dirty sweat from my brow. I glanced at the nearby forest which greets me daily. It is suffused with beauty. Nature calls upon me to stop and give thanks for the glory of God's creation. I am fortunate as I am surrounded with pine, alder, Calliandra, Flemingia and many indigenous trees I can’t really identify. Their colorful blossoms: blush red and pink flowers, the leaves adorned with yellow, brown and reddish hues are just amazing at this time of the year. Even when on my desktop computer, I take a moment to leave the confines of my room and house to my garden and drink in this beauty and give thanks.

I have many lemon trees bearing fruit, passion fruits falling to the ground and red ripe Spanish tomatoes painting the backyard. Each summer, my family gathers in the yard and recite a prayer of blessing on first seeing these fruits with the wild roses racing with anthurium reds and pinks that snuggle against the coffee red and orange berries.. They are a thing to behold.

We look at our plants in a context where we can feel inspired by the glory of God because we feel God's love for mankind and can give thanks for it.

We give thanks to God for creating trees from which man can take pleasure. The delight of the beauty we see is available to all kinds of people - even the most impoverished person or debased criminal is treated to the same beauty as anyone else, as he traverses the world.

When seeing a tree, which was during the rainy season was withering against the storm and rains, but now in full bloom, we, and even the most hopeless person, can be revitalized. When we watch the transformation of nature, we gain the courage and inspiration to lift us out of our despair and it reminds us that God has given us the tools to revitalize ourselves.

We live in a time when it's a struggle to keep hope alive. The trees in our neighborhoods, whether fruit-bearing or simply deciduous, reminds us of what and how beautiful the world has been before our stupid so called technologies, started killing most of these. All that is decent in mankind seems to be up against forces so irrational and evil that peace seems to be beyond what any human leader can negotiate.

And yet trees give us a message of hope. They show us how after a period of barren emptiness, there is a stirring of life and a new beginning, how even in the seeming barrenness of the winter of our lives, the process is already in motion which will usher in the flowering of a new season. A God who can bring blossoms to a barren tree can bring an era of redemption. Our tradition calls us out to the fields, so we can bear witness to the way God loves all mankind, whether we deserve it or not. We give thanks, and perhaps a silent prayer, with a flutter in our hearts full of hope, that an era of redemption will sprout as the barren branches give forth blossoms, and we and our children will live to see an era of peace.

Break of Day...By Michael A. Bengwayan, Ph D

 

BREAK OF DAY

There is nothing more wondrous, more miraculous and mysterious than watching the break of day. I wake up refreshed, my troubles forgotten temporarily, body renewed, strength regained. I have a fresh mind hopeful for a fresh start. But to glance at the brightening day, slowly pushing off darkness to the twilight zone can instill that much needed push to face the world. I glance at the first sunbeams stealing through the filtering pine needles, brightening every leaf until the unseen forest floor.

The once-shrouded tree shadows dance and spring to life as  gentle sun rays erupt and blanket the horizon. I sit and watch beauty,  mystery,  miracle at its best.

Every minute fresh green leaves become golden; pink, red and yellow flowers glisten in carpet display as soft sunlight touches the dew that slept overnight. Birds awaken and a chorus begins..bees and butterflies all in motion, seemingly unknowing where to go or what to do.

The lemon trees heavy with fruits kiss the ground in sweet praise and surrender as Rhode Island Red roosters' crow puncture the air. This is morning breaking. The beginning of another promise. There are shades of rainbow colors all over the ground wanting to be touched.

I glance my daughters'  rooms, slowly being flooded by sunlight and their sleepy heads still on pillows unmindful of the magnificence nor the consequences of being late --in school, at work.  I too forget that I am cooking.

Above all the beauty, a pitcher's toss away stood King Kong, king of Longlong, peering at me through the sunlight with questioning eyes.

It is this special and one of a kind phenomenon that happens daily in my terrace view and nothing else can come close to comparison. Yet every day seems better, each sight more beautiful, each moment more priceless.

The sun's embracing warmth against the nippy morning air, the cool pine-scented breeze  and sky painted by the Master Painter Himself are unmatched.

Kings will pay the most expensive ransom for such a scene. Poets will dream to put it in their minds and words..

And it is just there for me everyday. Free. For all my taking.

 

Know Your Past By Michael A. Bengwayan Ph. D

Know Your Past

By Michael A. Bengwayan Ph. D

My daughter Frances once asked ‘Who are we Pa?” I paused and looked at her. I wanted to repeat what was told to me decades ago by my great grandma.  But I dared not. We were the people of the rich valleys, lush and thick forests; of the clear and prestine waters.  We were once true to The Way.

But then everything changed. Slowly, outsiders came.  A giant called “guvmint”came. Followed by others with forked tongues. Without hesitation, these took the lands. They had papers showing they own the lands. Lands that own us. Some of us were forced out to give up the lands forever—the valleys, homes and mountains. In (Ambuklao) Bokod, (Binga) Itogon, Mankayan, Boneng, Tublay, Tuba,  the people were forced to move to the setting sun, leaving a trail of tears. Not that our brothers and sister Ibalois cried when they were forced out. But the trail spoke of the sorrows of those who stood and walked in that trail.

All they did not leave though. Some, skilled in the ways of the mountains, fled back into the bosoms of the hollows and lived there. They farmed on the mountains, hunted, set up traps, planted and dug sweetroot from the ground. They fished with their hands under the banks of the cold creeks, and moved as silent as shadows. A people who were there but not seen nor heard.

In this rich Benguetland, slowly but surely as if evilly-designed, people called “poltishuns” and some called “eduketed” came. They did not love the freedom of the mountains and pines. They lusted for land and profit. They were bigger than the ogre “guvmint”. With their arrival, the century of our early Ibalois started to die. The time of surviving became more depressing.

I looked at my daughter. In her blood runs the strength and courage of the once-warring and head-hunting Bontoc warriors; her heart the peaceful, kind,  patient and humble heart of the Ibalois; and the perseverance of the Ibanags. There would be a new century for them. There would be a time for blood, fighting and death. It will be a new world. But she will be fighting different enemies. Like here sister Phyllis before her, she has chosen to fight diseases that will plague mankind. Like her elder sister Grail who is fighting ignorance by teaching so that our people will not be cheated by the giant “guvmint”.   Like her sister Abigail much ahead of her who is fighting for human rights. And; like her brother Michael Jr. ahead of her who is fighting retrogress using science and technology.

I looked far out in the mountains beyond our home, towards the west. The sun was setting, the tree spirits were rising. You couldn’t tell if it was the wind that whispered as it swooshed across the bent pines. I walked out of sight of the rims of the mountain Frances a step behind. I could feel the past spirits on the talking fingers of the trees. The sun was setting, I heard a mourning crow just above. My ancestors lived fully in these hills. But the hills will not be here long. Just a sight away, I could see destruction by a housing company called Go----en  as its machines plowed the land under unmindful of death it is causing.

Slowly we walked home in silence. Frances gripping  my hand.