Skip to main content

Palengkera: Kaplastikan

This is a follow-up to my Palengkera post on plastic bags. A lot -- but perhaps not yet enough -- has been said about Baguio's present political garbage problem. You can read several intelligent diatribes, view disgusting photos, and watch a heart-wrenching video and weep in the Eco-Warrior's Garden. Chi from the Cool Clouds provides a link to an enlightening slideshow on where plastic goes, what we can do about it, and which countries have already done something about it (in answer to Ikin's question). The comments are also well worth reading. And land-fill sized amounts of information can be found online for anyone willing to dredge through the millions of hits for "garbage" or "plastic". Meanwhile, the basura continues to pile up on Baguio's street corners, almost to catastrophic proportions.

Now the nice thing about catastrophes is that they bring out the best in people. (Point in case, the Baguio earthquake. All of a sudden everybody in Baguio was altruistic. Too bad it was too good to last.) So even as the scent of garbage wafts through our city streets, something good may yet be coming out of this crisis. My suki for meat coolly smiled when I refused to have the ground pork in a plastic bag put inside another plastic bag. She told me that some of her customers now bring their own tupperwares and other containers so that they don't bring any more plastic bags home. Ok so it's still plastic but at least it's designed to be reusable and is (we hope) food grade. I think this is brilliant! This means that because of the garbage pressure, (some) people are finding ways to reduce their own waste. The week after she told me that, I started doing the same. Sometimes I still forget to bring my own containers, but I'm working on forming the habit. My new suki for chicken (the one who sells chickens raised by her family and butchers them on the day she sells them rather than defrosted magnolia stock) makes it a point now to award me with free scrap meat for my dogs when I bring my containers, and rebukes me whenever I forget. (Yes, dog-training methods work for humans too and I'm living proof of this heehee, but I digress.) I love these manangs of mine. Another good change in the market is that some vendors have gone back to wrapping their produce in old newspapers instead of putting every little thing in its own goddamn plastic bag.

Aside from cutting down on our waste-production, reducing the use of plastic gives the vendors one other thing to be happy about: less expenditure. My suki for vegetables in the "tourist" section says they spend anywhere from 500-800 pesos a week on plastic bags. My suki for chicken spends 200 pesos a week. Both vendors said they would be happy to have that money in their pockets (or their school children's pockets) rather than see it go to garbage.

This woman has made a great experiment out of the premise that we can live without plastic, and according to this link I came across, Sta. Barbara, Iloilo was way ahead of us in proposing and conducting a dry-run on a municipal order regulating the use of plastic bags. (Hmmm, I wonder what has actually come out of it. The article was written November 2007.)

This crisis is as good a time as any for Baguio people to try and be less tolerant of kaplastican. -- something most people would really much rather live without anyway.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Cordillera Folktales and Story-telling

It was cold and wet outside on the day of the launching of The Golden Arrow of Mt. Makilkilang and other Cordillera Folktales . But inside Mt. Cloud Bookshop we were warmed by stories read and performed by the Aanak di Kabiligan community theater group. Storytelling on a stormy afternoon. Paco Paco. A Benguet story from the book, published by the Cordillera Green Network. Aanak di Kabiligan means children of the mountains. The theater group was born out of the Cordillera Green Network's eleven years of conducting workshops in which children transform their grandparents' stories into theater productions. Here they perform the title story of the Golden Arrow of Mt. Makilkilang and Other Cordillera Folktales.

Lola of Maipon

It's all too easy to fall asleep under the blanket of everyday life and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. But once in a while, along comes a sparkling vision that jolts me out of my daily sleep and reminds me of the existence of convictions and worlds so different from my own. "Our beloved LOLA of Guinubatan, Maipon, Albay is the last true messenger of God. So, let us follow her holy teachings so that we will gain TRUE SALVATION without sufferings and without death." In another story I, the intrepid heroine, the adventurer seduced by mysteries, the pilgrim in search of truth, would follow them back to Guinubatan from Session Road, thirsting to see and hear their Lola for myself. However, it's all too easy -- much safer! -- to fall back asleep under the blanket of everyday life, and to smother dreams with the mundane things I surround myself with. Then along comes 9 a.m., and really, it's time to down the dregs of coffee at the bott

Ritual for all Occasions

Attended a talk delivered by Dr. Albert Bacdayan, UP Baguio. Feb. 20, 2013. "Ritual for All Occasions: The significance and persistence of the 'Senga' in Northern Sagada." The senga is a ritual in which at least one chicken and one pig -- sometimes more -- are sacrificed. The senga is usually performed for milestones such as the completion of a house, the opening of a new business, a wedding, a funeral, when someone is ill, when someone is leaving on a journey. He spoke of how Cordillerans have a ritual for almost every occasion or ailment. Indeed, the word he used was not ritual but "remedy."Dr. Bacdayan described this as a "healthy agnosticism."He mused that the abundance or such remedies and rituals is the reason there are rarely feelings of helplessness among Cordillerans. He described ritual as a bundle of activities that assures people and anchors identity. When one calls the old men and is the principal of a senga, you are perceived t