"Sa Sensing Manila naman ni Gary Devilles, binanggit ang dalawang salita para sa “window”: ang Hispanicized na “bintana” na galing sa viento (hangin –> ventilation) at ang “durungawan.” Inaalala ko kung paano natin pinahalagahan ang “air circulation” noong peak ng pandemic habang hinahamon rin ang gitnang-uring karanasan at sensibilidad sa pag-iisip sa mga kapwa na walang pribilehiyo ng “physical distancing” o “air circulation” dahil sa liit o sikip ng kanilang espasyo. Napilitan tayong manatili sa mga bahay—ilang palapag man ito, gaano man kaliit o kalaki, ilan man ang kasama-kahati natin sa espasyong ito—para sa ating kaligtasan at katiting na kapanatagan ng loob, habang “nakabantay” ang mg sundalo with their long rifles, always ready to “kill” the virus (natawa-napaling na tayo rito years ago). Palatandaan naman ang salitang “durungawan” kung paanong ang “visuality links seeing to other corporeal senses,” wika nga ni Sir Gary. Ang harana ang halimbawa niya rito: dumurungaw ang hinaharana habang nakikinig sa paghaharana sa kanya. Sa “window” bilang durungawan, naiuugnay imbes na nahihiwalay ang loob sa labas. Akto rin ng pagdungaw ang pinakikita sa cover ng Affidavit ng Dahas: parang nagsasabay ang pagsilip at pagtatago—maingat ang pagtingin. Kontra ito sa tipikal na selebrasyon ng visuality at visibility—look-at-me logic ng social media; click-ads-here, look-at-these-products logic ng kapital. Sa pabalat pa lang, may inaanunsyo nang “affect” (o “tema” rin) ng pag-iingat ang Affidavit ng Dahas, kahit na kasabay nito ang pangangahas. Kailangang mag-ingat. Sa ano? Dahil saan? Sino ang may pakana ng dahas ng nagbubunsod ng pag-iingat? Ikukwento ito ng mga nilalaman ng zine—na ang kabuuan naman ang siyang nagsasakatawan sa pangangahas. May nandarahas—kapwa madaling makita at patagong kumilos—ngunit hindi tayo magpapatinag."
https://chopsueyngarod.wordpress.com/... Nakarating na si Laya sa wakas, at natapos na rin ang pagta-type ko. Sa kabilang lupalop ng mga teksto ng karanasan, si sir Gary, walang masakyang jeep bandang 80s:
“Growing up in Metro Manila in the seventies… I had often been morbidly fascinated by the clear-cut difference between the rich and the poor, the gated communities and the informal settlers [Laya’s squatters’ area], and the central business district compared to the long queue of small and neighborhood shops (Laya’s housewives rushing to buy ingredients for dinner]. The disparity was hardly concealed, especially for commuters who traveled from one city to another or from the barrios to the center—as I did, when I was studying in Ateneo de Manila University and commuting would take three or four jeepney rides, roughly two or three hours per way. With class at eight in the morning, I would wake up around four, and then in half an hour I had to be able to catch my rides.
The jeepney rides made me more observant. The long journey allowed me to look at various places and the people on the street rushing around and leaving their homes for work. The jeepney is a makeshift social space, with its small back saloon and two long parallel benches.
…
I will never forget the global economic crisis in the eighties. Inflation was the buzzword, although I did not understand it then. When jeepney drivers all over the country held a general strike, I learned, through my body, on the ground, what inflation meant by walking thirty kilometers back home, under the glaring sun and on searing asphalt roads. Public commuters usually are the first to understand oil-price hikes, wars in the Middle East, and national economic crises, because these events, no matter how seemingly remote, are always felt within and have become of their daily living” (Sensing Manila 1-2).
At sa paglalakad niyang ito—tatlumpung kilometro, rutang Kyusi Marikina Pasig Makati Pateros at kung saan saan pa—lumapat sa kanyang balat at kaisipan ang “inflation” at krisis pang-ekonomiya.