Fishy weather

Netnet Camomot .

ONE evening, the fish dinner at home was unusually moist and yummy. So, I asked the house help what happened, and she said, “Gibantayan man gud nako.”

Aha! There’s the top secret behind cooking delish food: bantayan.

How did I notice? Because usually that fish would be as hard as a rock, enough to fight off President Rody Duterte’s fist bump.

Obviously, Bantayan is not merely an island in Cebu. It’s also good advice for anything, from cooking to managing a business to body weight, although, one can “bantay” that weight and it will still increase like the annual business permit tax.

I’m not trying to find out how that tax increased again. I should have complained the first time that tax soared higher than the distance between Earth and the super blue blood moon.

I’m guessing there was at least one taxpayer who did complain years ago the first time the business tax rate went flying to the Milky Way, making that taxpayer throw his weight around at the City Treasurer’s Office like a spoiled brat when a parent refuses to buy him a toy. But there was also the taxpayer whose good heart prevailed, he sighed upon seeing his tax due and said, Para sa ekonomiya. If the taxes he paid have helped fund the removal of Cagayan de Oro’s spaghetti wires, para sa ekonomiya indeed.

As you can see, the JR Borja General Hospital is finally operating like a real hospital, multi-story school buildings have been built, there are now roads in barangays far far away, and all that work must have been a real challenge to City Mayor Oscar Moreno. Look at his hair—it has turned white. But it’s all worth it. To relax, there’s a piano in his city hall office and it’s not mere décor. He does know how to play—the piano, that is. I wonder if he can accompany himself while singing “What a Wonderful World” for the barangay candidates’ campaign sorties next month. And what political party is that now? But his loyal fans will always say, Kung saan ka masaya, suportahan taka. Loyal—meaning, those he brought with him to city hall. There were fans that didn’t end up there with him and, well, they’re not his loyal fans anymore. That’s the sad side of politics, and former President Erap Estrada has the perfect term for it: “Weather-weather lang.”

Weather-weather lang ‘pag umuulan. That kind of weather.

There may—or may not—be a new city hall occupant next year, with the violet curtains raring to make a stunning comeback at the city mayor’s office. Those who love Moreno’s minimalist office probably have a ready response for that violet possibility: Que horror! And they’ll treat that violet comeback as regressing to the Jurassic Age again. Isn’t that boring, though, for the city to have only two contenders for the mayoral post? Unless a certain former congressman will again join the fray and—voila!—it’s Election 2016 all over again. Déjà vu. Unless the son will run in lieu of the father for the violet party. Exciting, eh?

The Pinoy is generally too easy to please, enabling any political candidate to easily sail through stormy winds. Water trickles from the faucet, the Pinoy says, At least there’s water. There’s the traffic, the Pinoy says, At least Pinas has cars. There’s a blackout, the Pinoy says, At least there’s the abaniko. All that positive thinking may also contribute to the Pinoy’s lack of wishful thinking for good governance as he says, At least we have elections every three years. The typical Pinoy voter has mababaw ang kalipay which can help catapult a political candidate to infinity and beyond. If that voter is already happy to belong to a country—because there are indeed people who have no country or are deported by their preferred country—then any candidate who promises them the moon and the stars will surely win.

Politicians may always have the next election in mind, which may inspire them to provide services to their constituents and to build quality infrastructure, hoping these will all be remembered on Election Day. But it may also inspire them to amass ill-gotten wealth to fund their next electoral campaign.

Everything is for sale especially in politics. From chairmanships to, hmmm, trolls? May the highest bidder win? The Cambridge Analytica scandal that Facebook and Mark Zuckerberg got embroiled in is one good—or bad, depends on who’s looking—example of the political bidding, buying and selling. It’s simply numbers, with no faces attached. The number of votes. Total amount needed for a sure win. Send more people to the weakest link.

But then, what do we know, huh? We’re the voter; we’re not the candidate.

That’s the candidate who has to shake any hand, kiss all babies, and deliver a speech in the middle of the night under the rain in a remote barangay that only a horse would dare gallop into. So, yes, the current mayor who builds roads in remote areas is paving the way not only for his next set of campaign sorties but also for that of his opponents who can use that same road in 2019. Everyone happy.

And the winner next year—and next month—is the candidate who has made “bantay” on what people need. He listens to them and provides solutions to their problems. The candidate who promises you the moon and the stars may sound fishy, though—beware.