Piracy in the Philippines: What a Shame

With the entry of the Philippines to globalization, the problem in piracy emerged. This kind of piracy has become a threat to the copyrighted industry locally and internationally. It caused a lot of losses and disadvantages.

The problem of piracy is not limited to the Philippines; it is everywhere. The difference is that, in our country, piracy is somewhat tolerated while in other countries, piracy is a very serious issue. As a proof, about 400,000 to 600,000 copies of films are produced illegally in the Philippines alone.

In our society, the practice of piracy has already been an accepted norm. People who are involved with it are simply acting according to the norms. In the Philippines, being a culture-dominated country, it is seen that Filipinos do whatever that they do based on the actions accepted by the society, whether it be legal or not. Thus, supporting piracy, although illegal, is considered a norm nowadays.

The problem of optical media piracy has caused a lot of harm to the different industries involved—the movie industry, music industry, and the computer and video game software industry. The same kind of harm has been caused by the piracy industry to the Philippines, specifically to the Philippine movie and music industry.

Such harms have made the Philippines famous all over the world for being one of the piracy capitals. This recognition, however, does not do anything good to our country; instead, it is currently giving all Filipinos a hard time to clean up its name after so many disgraces it acquired.

Piracy here in our country has always been an illegal act. It is considered a form of stealing in a way that when you use, which includes producing and selling, or buy pirated materials, you are already using one’s product without the owner or producer’s consent.

Although piracy is considered an illegal act, its rampancy is obvious nowadays. Filipinos are known to be movie and music lovers, and with the emergence of newer forms of technology, Filipinos are already into the use of computers for playing games and doing other things related to the use of these newer forms of technology, like mixing and editing sounds and making movies, which require installation of computer softwares.

These pirated materials became widespread during the late 1990’s. The existence of these gave the masses a chance to own CDs and DVDs that contain their favorite songs and movies and computer softwares that they needed without spending too much money.

By 2001, the Philippines was among the top three producers and sellers of pirated materials among the countries here in Asia and ranked number seven as worst Intellectual Property Rights (IPR) violator.

The Philippines was recommended by the International Intellectual Property Alliance (IIPA), “a private sector coalition formed in 1984 to represent the U.S. copyright-based industries in bilateral and multilateral efforts to improve international protection of copyrighted materials,” to be on the Priority Watch List in 2002. On February 2006, the Philippines’ standing went down to just “Watch List.”

The inclusion of the Philippines in the Priority Watch List was due to the rampant production and existence of pirated materials throughout the country. An estimated loss of US$ 120.1 million on United States copyright industries was due to piracy in the Philippines during 2001.

The continuing existence of these pirated materials will surely cause the Philippine and international movie and music industry and the computer software industry to fall. The Philippine film industry used to produce around 240 films each year but in 2004, the number crashed down to 40 films per year. If piracy in our country will still go on, it would not be surprising anymore if the number will fall to only maybe 20 films per year. The Philippine movie industry loses around three billion pesos in income every year. Producers and owners of original materials will lose profits and eventually, they might just be part of the growing piracy industry.

We have many talented and great singers here in the Philippines yet they still cannot go higher than just a national singer or artist. Most of our singers want to make a name in the international scene but piracy is a huge hindrance for the achievement of these dreams. Piracy is sure to be one of the factors that limit the ability of our musicians and composers to gain international acceptance.

More materials will be pirated and with the continuing rise of poverty here in our country, more Filipinos will engage in the piracy industry—more Filipinos will produce and buy such products.

GIRL POWER

Alessandra de Rossi shows us what a real girl power is all about as she cites the ten most empowering moments in her life.

(From the Advertising Feature segment of the Cosmopolitan Magazine (Philippines), May 2007 issue)

1. Ending a bad relationship. I woke up from a fantasy and accepted that the break was meant to be. After the crying and self-pity, I felt stronger and more secure about myself. I knew it was only the beginning of better things to come.
2. Landing my first job. I believe that one of the most compelling moments in a person’s life is having more powerful or influential believe in you. I considered my first job a big honor and a great challenge. I took full advantage and gave it my all. I charged it all to experience and had a great time.
3. Buying big-ticket items like a car or a house. I worked so hard and it felt like every tear I cried just to earn a paycheck finally paid off. Buying big-ticket items was like giving myself a reward. I felt very content but I also knew that it was not my end-all-be-all goal in life.
4. Managing my own finances. Saving for the future while paying my bills is always a daily challenge especially when it’s so tempting to go shopping. I felt very proud of myself when I saw a beautiful pair of shoes worth P45K (45, 000 Php). I knew I could afford it but I didn’t buy it. Instead, I let my boyfriend buy it for me. Yeah!
5. Speaking up for what I think is right. In my craft, this means saying “no” to bold roles or lewd pictorials. I say “no” when I can’t put my heart and soul in a task I’m not convicted to do. I don’t think it makes me a bad person when I stand up for what I think is right. In fact, it makes me stronger.
6. Becoming a good negotiator. Closing a deal and coming to an agreement is thrilling. It makes me feel good that I have the ability to make the result favorable both for me and for others as well.
7. Taking risks. It’s the most exciting part of our existence! I’m never afraid to take risks as long as I know I’m not going to hurt anyone. I try to study the consequences before I dive into it.
8. Winning my first award among a group of veteran and established nominees. I gained more respect for myself after achieving something that I thought was impossible. Winning an award serves as my motivation to work even harder.
9. Being 100% independent and away from the family. This is the hardest part of being me. It’s good sometimes because I get to do whatever I like; but it’s also hard waking up in the morning and not having anyone ask you if you’ve had breakfast. Living alone teaches me a lot of responsibility and forces me to look after myself better. If not me, then who else will do?
10. Empowering other women. We all have our bad days and we each have to admit that we can’t handle it all on our own. It’s nice to know I can be a shoulder to cry on for my girl friends.

diversity in filipino ethnicity

Ethnicity, also called as ethnic identity, in the Philippines used to be determined basically just by the language a person speaks. Go to any province in the Northern Luzon and you will hear the Ilocano dialect. Go a little lower to the Central Luzon and the Kapampangan dialect is used by the Kapampangans. Go down a little bit more and the national language, the Tagalog, is spoken. Go to the Visayas and in some Mindanao areas and the Visayan dialect is spoken. Filipinos were set to identify themselves as one from a certain ethnic group with their “mother tounge” as their basis. Currently, our country has over 80 ethnolinguistic groups.
Others determine their ethnic identity through their ancestry. Someone who was born in Cebu but spent her or his entire life in Baguio will still call himself or herself a Cebuano or Cebuana.
Another way of determining someone’s ethnicity is through his or her religion which is a very minor basis in our country. Usually, Filipinos are divided into two major ethnic religion—Christian and Islam.
However, ethnic identity is sometimes determined through one’s traditions, culture, and beliefs. That is why we have those we call tribes or indigenous and non-indigenous ethnic groups. Some of these ethnic groups are the Ibanags of the Cagayan Valley Region, the Igorots of the Cordillera, the Mangyans of Mindoro in Region IV, and the Tagbanwas of the Palawan Islands.
These bases of ethnic identification are becoming less noticeable as migration and inter-marriage comes to the scene. Filipinos, the Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) for instance, have been having affairs or intimate relationship with the natives of the countries where they are working. Due to this, the Filipino and the foreign half produce a child who will then have dual ethnic identities.
The discussion above is a proof that the Filipino race is a very diverse one. Most of the time, diversity results to misunderstandings and lack of unity which is a bad thing.
The Filipino race is already one big ethnic group with one big identity—being a Filipino. Ethnicity, as defined, is “a term which represents social groups with a shared history, sense of identity, geography and cultural roots which may occur despite racial difference.”
The Filipino race is indeed a single “tribe” in itself. Filipinos represent a social group and has a shared rich and colorful history. Filipinos, just by being Filipinos, have a single unified identity. They may vary in some geographical roots, but they share almost the same cultural roots for sure.
However, almost all ethnic tribes have this tendency to have superiority complex within their group. They think that their identity and culture entails dominance and that they outstand the other groups while on the outsider’s point of view, their group is actually just a minority. This happens because of some disparity in their beliefs and practices due to different orientations and traditions.
The existence of superiority complex may sometimes result to feud among different ethnicities within one ethnicity which is not a good thing.
The concept of ethnicity, as mentioned earlier, should be a bridge to patch the gaps between quarrelling groups. Each ethnic group should realize that we are one ethnic entity—that we are all Filipinos.

-kacie-

From A Corner of Baguio City

Whenever I go to this place, I have to ride a Trancoville-Plaza jeepney. It passes through Harrison Road and Magsaysay Avenue. I would then get off the jeepney when I reach the fly-over going to La Trinidad. After crossing the two two-way streets, I would reach Adarna St. of Dizon Subdivision. From there, I would take around 200 steps to get in front of a brown grilled gate with a number eight on its side. Behind this gate is a three-storey, two-unit apartment with an off-white-painted body and green roof. The first and second floors are parts of the first unit and the third floor is another separate unit which has a separate entrance located at the side. I need not knock on the door anymore. I just enter the unit and there, an unusual living room appears before me—an empty, unfurnished living room with just a two-pane window and a mirror hanging on the wall. There’s this brown wooden stair leading to the second floor. On top of the stairs is a wooden harang to keep people from accidentally falling down the stairs. Facing the stairs is a mini refrigerator. Beside the refrigerator on the right side is the sink where a few used plates are still unwashed. Beside the sink is a plate organizer with only a few plates, and just in front of the organizer is a two-burner stove positioned sideward. Above it are three kitchen cabinets with other kitchen utensils inside. Beside the stove are the door of the restroom and another door of one of the three rooms in the unit. Two young ladies occupy that room—Mara and Ate Pate. To my left, a living-dining room appears. There’s an old television, a square monobloc table covered with a red table cloth, a few monobloc chairs, and a window with a peach-colored curtain. There are two other bedrooms. The room just beside the stairs is the room of Kuya Joey and Kuya Angel and the room adjacent to it is the room of Don and his older brother, Kuya Gel. Actually, Mara, Ate Pate, and Kuya Joey, Don, and Kuya Gel are cousins and Kuya Angel is Kuya Gel’s very close friend. I first went to that unit on June 8, 2005, Wednesday, with Don, who was my boyfriend at the time. I can still remember how hard the rain was on that day. When we got into the house, he introduced me to Kuya Angel who was the only person there at that time. Don and I had tocino and canned tuna for dinner, and went to bed at pass nine in the evening to sleep. The next day, I woke up beside a tall, chinito, and young man—this young man that I loved truly for the first time. It has become a part of my everyday life to go there especially when I have a lot of vacant time. Whenever he would take me to their apartment, our tambayan would be in their room, and there we would spend the rest of the time watching the television or just chatting about what happened to us that day. I sometimes sleep and often spend my weekends there with him and his brother and their cousins. Because of that I became a part of their family already. Whenever we were together, I would cook for him, we would do our school work together, clean their room which was most of the time a bit messy, and do our favorite pastime—eating. At night, before we go to sleep, it was our “ritual” to look outside the window beside his bed. From there we could both see the lights of the houses and buildings in the city. The tall buildings of the University of Baguio and Saint Louis University were also visible from that point. It was the best view I have ever seen since I came to Baguio. It was a very beautiful view that Don and I shared together from that spot of their apartment. That house saw how my 16th birthday celebration on the 22nd of June 2005 was spent, how I took care of him when he got sick for almost a week, how we worked hard to finish his Chemistry project, how he gently caressed my hair before we slept, how he pinched my cheeks after having tasted the food that I have cooked for him, how he hugged me so tight every time that I arrived there, how he whispered “Goodnight wifey…I love you,” when I was about to sleep. I was so overwhelmed by these experiences that I didn’t think our relationship would have an end. We both felt so secure with each other that the thought of having problems didn’t ever occur to us. Since we became lovers on May 18, 2005, we only had small fights which were just normal in a relationship, konting tampuhan as they say. But then, not every love story goes smoothly forever I guess. Even before when we were still friends, I already knew that he would be going to Spain, where his parents were working, sometime in November 2005. His flight was scheduled on the 18th of November. We were together for the last time on November 4-5 at their apartment with Kuya Gel and his girlfriend, Ate Lhai. Sadness and fear filled the atmosphere of the house. On the night of November 4, Don and I were talking in their room about how it was going to be once he’s already in Spain. We were both crying at that time. He promised me a lot of times that he would be back by May 2006. I didn’t want that night to end because I knew that that would be the last time that I would be with him. I was staring at his face, memorizing every detail of it. Although his eyes were wet because of crying, it still looked a lot like the eyes of Rain, the Korean actor/singer. His nose also looked like the nose of Rain. His lips were pinkish, though a little darker than the usual pink that we know. We almost didn’t sleep that night. We just wanted to talk while we looked outside the window and stared at the usual view that we were always staring at. The next day at around four o’clock in the afternoon, both of us had to go to the lowlands already—Don to their house in San Manuel, Pangasinan and I to my uncle’s house in La Union. Before we went out the house, I went back to their room to take a last look. I couldn’t stop myself from crying the moment I had a last look at the window beside his bed. I wasn’t sure at that time if I would be able to see the beauty of Baguio at night through that window again. I then closed the door of the room and had a glimpse of the entire second floor of the apartment—the monobloc table where we used to eat our meals, the stove where I would always cook his favorite foods, the sink that was always untidy, and the refrigerator that I once cleaned up because it was becoming so dirty and stinky. That was the last time I laid my eyes on that house.Then Don flew to Spain on November 18. From that day, when he flew to Spain, I lost communication with him already. I didn’t know what happened to the promises he made and to the love that we shared together. Until now, I still can’t get over him. I still have no idea on how could I ever forget the times we spent together, most of them in their apartment. That house that I used to go to may seem to be just an ordinary house when seen from an elevated portion of New Lucban. Jeepneys and cabs may just be passing in front of it. Different kinds of people for sure are to occupy that house as long as it stands there. That house was witness to a love that was pure and true. It was where I once experienced how to be loved purely and faithfully. It was wherein once in my life, someone made me feel special and loved. That house became a witness to the ups and downs in our relationship. It was where we started dreaming and planning our future. It was where we had tons of laughter and tears together. Nowadays, whenever I go to the veranda of SM Baguio and see the big area of trees near Quirino Hill and Dreamland, I know, just below that area is that house—full of cherished memories and unforgettable scenes that have stayed in my mind and heart. Until now, I still can’t go back there because of what happened. Once in my life, going there was a part of my daily routine, but now, going there means recalling every single memory and event that Don and I both knew, which just makes me once again feel the pain that I felt on the day he flew to Spain. I still love him as much as I loved him before he left. I think I’ll always feel that way towards him. I’m still hoping that I could be with Don to continue the love that we once shared together the next time I visit that house on #8 Adarna St., Dizon Subdivision, Magsaysay Avenue, Baguio City.

-kacie-

An Essay About Mom

I was nervous. I waited patiently for her to arrive while I sat beside my grandmother. I was staring at my picture in a frame when I was just a baby placed on top of the television rack when a tall, voluptuous, and 48-year old woman with a fair complexion and light-brown colored wavy hair came inside the house. She was wearing a blue razor-back top, a fitted jeans, two-inch stiletto, and a black pair of sunglass on top of her head.I wasn’t convinced that she was my mother. You see, I haven’t seen her since I was a baby until that day, June 18, 2006 and until then, I was totally clueless on how she looked like. Aside from that fact, I looked exactly her opposite. I’m not tall, I’m chubby, and I never had the guts to wear what she was wearing.As far as I knew, she went away and she never came back to see me. Since then, I planned to look for her when time comes that I would be able to do so. And I started doing it when I was 14.I searched for her and just when I was a fresh sophomore at the University of the Philippines Baguio, my blocmate, who was from Nueva Ecija, told me that her mother was my mother’s sister’s friend. My blocmate gave my cellphone number to them, they texted me, and we planned how my mother and I would meet. My father did not know anything about it then.Actually, I was the one who went to Nueva Ecija from Baguio to see her—just to take a look at this Melicia del Rosario Leonardo whose name I got from my birth certificate. I always wanted to know how the woman who gave birth to me looked like, or if I looked like her.She hugged me and we spent the rest of the day at the mall with my new-found cousins. She left us later in the afternoon because she needed to do, which she said, something important. So that night, I waited for her to arrive while I lay down on her bed. She arrived at around 3 o’clock in the morning.She lay down beside me and started talking to me about her past life as Mrs. Melicia Camacho—how she and my father met, how their life was when they were still together, and why they got separated. I listened to her even though I was really sleepy at the time. I wanted to hear from her.I fell asleep as she was caressing my hair for the first time. It felt so good to feel a mother’s touch. I felt complete and contented for the first time.The next day, I had to go back to Baguio. Before I left, she promised to be on my birthday. She gave me P2, 500 and accompanied me and my cousin, who was also studying in Baguio, to the van terminal.I didn’t feel sad as I left my birthplace because I was assured that my mother would be with me on my birthday. Then I reached Baguio and waited for my birthday to come.I was happy when I woke up on June 22 because I was expecting my mother to be with me on that special day. But the day ended without her, and without even a text message.Days went by and I didn’t hear anything from her again. She never came to visit me in Baguio. I felt hopeless. I wished I didn’t spend the money she gave me so that I could have a remembrance of her.The day I left Nueva Ecija was the last time I laid my eyes on her. I never wanted to go back to Baguio then, but I needed to. If only I was given more time to be with her, maybe I would be able to know her more.Until now I’m still hoping that she would at least visit me. I never had her love and I know I will never have it ever. She already has the chance to show and give it to me if she really wants to but I guess she just don’t want to be my mother anymore, or she just don’t want me to be her daughter.I didn’t feel any hatred or anger for her before, but now, I already do. No one can blame me. I tried not to feel it but she made me feel it.Forever, I will be this child who’s always ignorant about a mother’s love and what a family really is. I never had a complete one. I will never have.

-kacie-