The Ramos Years
Covering the Philippine President becomes a great deal of patriotic sacrifice when it means having to ride on an ancient a propeller driven Fokker 26 whose faded turbo-prop must be at least 30 years old and is in a dire state of disrepair. Add to that, being extremely agitated, grumbling and complaining about missing an event, while reporting on a crippled aircraft – it definitely wasn’t the best of times for me.
Covering the President by land, we have had our fair share of puddles and splashes on decaying streets. At times when we starved during coverage, we could only groan in impotent indignities because the Malacañang Media Relations Office would often dish out masterpieces of indirection, as well as magical nuggets of nourishment.
In joyful ceremonies, the President is flanked by honor guards, as well as a collection of provincial notables lined up in the precise order of political standing.
Having covered Fidel V. Ramos’ presidency for years, closely and completely, any attempt to sypnosize and come up with a comprehensive compendium of “All Things Ramos” would most certainly entangle me in a weird paradox of distance and involvement that could blur a journalist’s objectivity.
I dogged the presidential heel with a notepad, from the liveliest serpentine tours in every corner of the archipelago and to the official state visits from halfway around the world. Among the most cherished destinations were a midsummer visit to Brunei, an autumn day in New York, an early shimmering spring in China, to that final state visit to Washington, D.C.
The Washington visit gave both Pres. Clinton and Pres. Ramos a most welcome respite from their domestic issues. As the two leaders sat over a working lunch, Palace reporters waited by the White House lawn kibitzing, complaining, wise cracking and squabbling amongst each other.
If one tries to think of a definitive moment during those Malacañang years, there would be no doubt that the best episodes in our coverage would the People’s Day events the President held regularly at the Palace. Those events, which were also carried out to his provincial and regional sorties, were lighthearted and filled with comic relief.
“People’s Day at the Palace” was an event when an odd mix of a thousand Presidential callers tripped over their shoelaces when attending an audience with FVR. Some brimmed with advise and praise, others agonized and briefly grieved. Some came for personal and social reasons. The guests were rich and poor alike. Their every word and action carefully tailored to grab the undivided attention of the the blue jean and cotton shirt clad Pres. Ramos, all but for their synthetic glory.
Back in the day, some of the requests were of comedic angst, were ludicrous and sometimes entirely implausible like urging the President to make scrabble a national sport. Once, a weightlifter even took off his shirt, showed his body knotted in muscles and then requested funding for a sport. A seven year old boy declaimed the famed piece Pilipino Tayo excellently to entertain the president and afterwards asked for a job for his father.
On the wild side, the faces of the Presidential guards once turned sour when a balikbayan slapped the President hard on the shoulders as he recalled their high school escapades in Mapua. A dozen lily white robed well-wishers blessed the President and prayed for his enlightenment and the country’s social and economic problems. They then performed a rather passionate interpretative dance to the lustful cheering of the onlooking audience.
Then there was this forty five year old lady who threw herself prostate before the stunned President as she kissed his feet and hugged and knelt, begging for a US Visa so she could join her family abroad! Using his gift of grace, the President smiled in amusement and referred her to a nearby Dept. of Foreign Affairs table.
Tears were shed unashamedly by a retired cop from Laguna as he related losing both legs during his tenure as a policeman, chasing some suspected robbers in his heyday. Up to that time, he couldn’t cut through the bureaucracy to get his disability pay and a small loan to support his 10 kids. One recalls the President scribbling something on a note pad, and as he handed it, said “Huwag ka na magalala tapos na ang problema mo!”
Those seven hour consultations of President Ramos with the masses were marked with requests and grievances – answered softly – always in a manner signifying that some people are more important than others.
Every coverage was worth remembering. You learned to walk between raindrops and spit venom from a position of unchallenged strength when the Malacañang Press Corps were proven right. An off the cuff remark said in a playful jest among the media men can make for bright, good news (subject to interpretation).
What I feel about my President is what my family taught me: as one raised from the North, I was, and still am, in blue collar awe of the one and only President Fidel V. Ramos.
