This blog is not about EDSA 1 or what number is it now, eh?
It was just four months after my third birthday, when the popular uprising that made the entire world proud for the Philippines, commenced at EDSA.
No, this is not about EDSA.
We lived in a small shack in an estero in Gastambide Street in Sampaloc. It was just a few blocks away to Mendiola and the Palace. Nanay took careful care of us the situation in every part of Manila is taut, Tatay, separated from us by a throng of people, joined the others in toppling the tyrant who had ruled us with an iron fist.
And this is not about EDSA.
It was a moment they say they could not explain in mere words. Euphoria was closest but it never hit at the exact emotion that prevailed. Hope becomes tangible. My future seems to be safe and secured.
What, EDSA?
(It's actually about Gastambide, lol).
I was three, preparing to be four. I honestly don't remember anything, except all the excitement that comes to and fro in that conspicuous street.
I was born, raised, and had spent most of my childhood and my early adolescent time in Gastambide. A witness to the tanks in Marcos days, and to the low flying tora-toras (did i even spelled it right that's how I heard it was called) in the time of Kudeta attacks of the newly installed yellow lady at the Palace. The shots that killed the farmers at Mendiola rang as far as my home, I was even playing with a paper doll with a wealthy neighbor at that time. We were at the top of their tower (fourth floor), and we hugged each other with the shock at the shots that pierced our peaceful playtime. She was playing with a real barbie.
Ramos came, and Erap came, protest actions never ceased. I don't really understand their flags, nor their chants, nor their posters back then. They were there, but only a glimpse. I can hear them, but only a mumble. Too dim, it just passes by. I know they are near, everytime the jeeps got jammed in the streets, and traffics are rerouted. I used to wonder at the magical powers of the one at the Palace. Gradeschool days taught me they were simple mortals who were supposed to be my servant.
But were she? were he? were they?
EDSA came.
It was momentous.
(Oh not Edsa, eh? - Edsa again!).
It was always misunderstood.
EDSA was not great because a tyrant was toppled, the people had won, and evil were defeated and thrown to the abyss (yet on the last part I think I had to convince myself more on that, tsk). EDSA was not exhilirating because a woman, a mother, a wife, lead us and became our First Female President. EDSA was never about avenging Ninoy.
And this is not about EDSA.
EDSA was not people power in action, without people empowered to stand collectively. EDSA was the first baby step without anybody assisting us. Similar to a baby's first walking steps without the walker nor mommy's reassuring hands.
Then what? (See, this is not about EDSA!)
This is about what happened after EDSA.
What's happening at present?
Don't we think there should be some redefining workshop for each who are still not out in the streets to topple the Mole? Let's redefine the terms. What do we really mean by Genuine Social Change? Do we need one? Are we ready for one? Will we have again EDSA's courage to stand united? Will we see EDSA for its true light? Or are we still having difficulty to accept, that we wasted EDSA for what its worth?
EDSA is a big breakthrough, we need a follow through.(and with the "follow through" i don't mean another EDSA, oh come on!)
