Desolated By Andrew A. Estacio
Swiftly riding along the highway of Victoria, Laguna, we enjoyed passing by the green horizon and the tranquil, bright sky above. Our jeepney ran in haste; the ride was cool and windy. Farms in Victoria expanded in hectares and the panorama it created was really calming. We, the Perspective staff, were headed to Batangas for a community immersion. At the back of the driver’s seat were a sack of rice, box of canned goods and some vegetables and perishables for our meals. Some members felt the mood for siesta and eventually leaned their heads to the shoulder next to them. They must have been tired of writing their articles and attending life-long journalistic lessons beforehand. While me, contemplating on what life had been to me as a staff member, my endeavors, and now, another integration with the community. Basic Masses Integration (BMI) was what they call this immersion activity. I recalled my first BMI was at a farm in San Benito, Victoria. There, we met Ka Yoli, representative of Masang Anakpawis. Looking at her countenance, she seemed like my grandmother, who used to work and cultivate our small farm, seemingly tired with wrinkles and a bit of scratches on her face, yet truly persevering. Ka Yoli told us her story. While listening to her, I was looking at the faces of my batch mates, expressing mixed emotions of surprise, awe and pity. She recalled, “dati na rin akong kinulong ng mga pulis noong ako’y nagra-rally.” Ka Yoli stood and even dramatized how she attempted to escape from the cell, “sinira ko ‘yung bintana, ‘tas nagkasugat-sugat ako. Buti nalusot ako nun, sabay takbo palabas. Tamo, kaya laki pa ng peklat ko ngayon sa braso.” Farmers in Victoria were victims of injustice. We did visit homes of the farmers and it was but tormenting to hear their sentiments. They were actually experiencing similar tribulations—no electricity, no education, lack of food and other resources, insufficient benefits and wages, and denying them of their lands they undyingly worked for. And it was a turning point of my life to set my feet into their shoes, truly difficult and sympathetic. We had to soil ourselves, walk through the mud, and plant in bare hands. Amidst the farm, the sky above was getting dark, the atmosphere suddenly blowing off strong winds. Though lucky for us, we didn’t do it under the heat of the sun.