Im back! Did you miss me?

Pardon me for the absence. The travel bug bit me so off I went on a trip to the island nation. Okay, I will have to be forthright with you -- the Singapore trip was not a spur of the moment decision and the reason why I missed my deadline. It has long been planned.

Exactly a year and three weeks ago on Sunday, my journalistic life turned upside down. From a carefree economic journalist who practically abhors going to the office, I was suddenly desk bound. My colleagues and friends (including my adversaries) in the business and banking community were stunned upon hearing the news that I finally accepted an editorial position.

The nuts and bolts

Did I go côco? (The word dates back to the mid 16th century. Côco is a Portuguese word that literally means “grinning face.” Like, when you lose a nut or a bolt in your brain, you become oblivious to your surroundings and just grin or laugh at developments in your life - - be it positive or negative.)

Well, almost! 

For those who know me, it meant a big sacrifice. Surrendering, giving up the flexibility that I treasured so much. Flexibility was my ammunition in my quest to surmount the emotional turbulence that confronted me from the lost of my muse.

Then there’s the learning curve of a desk job.

And the most difficult phase of it all is for me to be up and about early in the morning, listening to the radio for local developments as well as watching television for international news which may have direct impact on the country. Prior to this, only a round of golf will pull me out of my comfortable bed very early in the morning.

Honestly, I did not know what got into me when ECY nonchalantly offered me the position. Did I really go côco? Despite the apprehension and the butterflies in my stomach, my discipline as an economic journalist guided me when I, albeit reluctantly, took up the challenge of a new working environment.

The gains and the pains

Five weeks to a year of my going nuts, I asked ECY if I could go to Singapore, semi-official -   sans any financial support from the office. I have to treat myself for overcoming the pains and the travails of desk work. The official side of the trip was my intent to cover the 20th year of APEC (Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation) Leaders’ summit in the island state as a columnist. And so I had to get accreditation from the APEC Secretariat so I could breeze through cordon sanitaire. 

My Singapore sojourn would have been my topic for Sunday. However, it had to take a back seat because of the chaotic situation the fourth estate is facing right now with the Maguindanao carnage.

November 23, 2009 is marked in history as Black Monday for journalists. I need not expound on the gruesome massacre that happened that ill-fated day.

What hurts me most is the fact that the senseless political violence nipped in the bud the promising career of Bong Reblando, our reporter based in General Santos City. He was barely enjoying his new status as a regular reporter after more than a decade of being a correspondent. (For print media, a correspondent is paid on a per article basis while a regular staff receives monthly remuneration plus other benefits such as being a member of Pag-IBIG.)

I was shocked when I heard the news from Ali Macabalang, Bong’s partner, that he was among the first batch who was murdered. Ali, a Datu (the etymology is Da•tuk, a Malaysian word which means a man belonging to chivalric order. It is a title accorded to a man who is a member of a senior order of chivalry), was supposed to have been with Bong that Monday to cover the event, which later turned into a bloody event that triggered a worldwide uproar and indignation on the state of the fourth estate of the country. Fortunately for Ali, he was here in Manila. Ali recalled that the day before, Bong, the Rottweiler journalist, lamented how he was green with envy of Ali who was then covering the aftermath of the riotous Baclaran demolition. Bong wanted some “spice” in what he described as a bit monotonous daily reportage. He wanted more. He got what he wanted when the invite to be part of the entourage of the Mangudadatu came. That was some coverage! Hats off to you, Bong!       

Most people say journalists live a very exciting life. We rub elbows with the powers that be. We have the opportunity to go places. But behind all these, being a member of the fourth estate has its drawbacks. True, it gives you psychic income as in fame, right Willard Cheng? It also exposes you to danger as what happened to Bong. 

In retrospect, I am not pretty sure how I rate in performance a year after, if I perform at par to ECY’s expectations. I fervently hope I did. Sometimes, I need assurances. On a personal note, I did not regret my decision. The very nature of the dynamic desk work widened my perspective, opened up my eyes to the realities of the journalism industry which was virtually not in sphere of economics, business and banking that I covered. I developed new friends, met some acquaintances as well as adversaries. Now, there are faces to match the names. But I remain a student who still marvels at anything that comes my way. The learning process is never ending.

‘Til our next filibustering.

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