Street Music

Beats

Some tambol entertainment on the bus.

A Suave Shoe Repairman

Preparing for a day's work-- the sign doubles as a cover for the compartment containing old shoes and more. That is obviously not Alex doing the fixing.

I finally took a photo of this repairman's stall that I often pass. The sign says:

Repair / Alex / Mr. / Swave
Shoes / Shine
Umbrella / Payong
Bags / Zipper
Water Jag

The use of the slashmark is actually pretty effective in compensating for the poor handwriting (spacing problems, perhaps). There is only one word translated into the native language (payong means umbrella), while the rest would be understandable to any Tagalog speaker. In all, it's pretty charming and straightfoward.

(Although I do wonder how the same guy repairs water "jags", and what kind of water jugs he can mend with the same tools he uses for the other goods on the list.)

This Alex fellow chose to give himself a nickname "Mr. Swabe", another way to spell "Mr. Suave". This persona infiltrated national consciousness five years ago as Parokya ni Edgar launched their 70s-inspired song (see video below), which then brought about a movie with a protagonist called Rico Suave.



(You can also find an English translation of the lyrics on this blog.)

Jeproks and 70's Balbal Rock

This "jeproks" kalesa, with the typical Mexicannish religious art and metalcraft.

During the late 60's and early 70's, young Filipinos messed words up a lot into unique balbal (street slang) versions, many of which are still in use today, sometimes in jest. A common method would be to divide a word into syllables and shake the arrangement up, putting one in front of the other. Sibat became "batsi". Burat became "ratbu". Malabo became "bomalabs". And of course, pare became "repapips".

The young parents of our clan made such versions of our names when we were little. As a result, my cousin Miko is still called "Komiks" at times, while Ruben is "Benru" (later, "Benruboobs", unfortunately for him). I have one too-- "Yabebs" for Bea-- but more common was "Beng-Beng", created using another Filipino school of creating words out of fairly decent names.


Mga long hair ng Juan dela Cruz Band.

Jeproks is (arguably) the most common of these words, immortalized in rock n' roll by the Juan dela Cruz Band. These days, it is used to refer to any old hippie, but back then, it actually pertained to youngsters from the Projects of Quezon City.

After Manila became congested and destroyed by the war, Quezon City was declared the new capital of our nation. The Commonwealth Government pushed for the creation of the People's Homesite Corporation, which was to oversee the creation of dense but livable housing for the city's workers. Something of a barrio obrero, as Manuel Quezon was quoted as saying. This gave birth to to the many Projects, which would later on house government workers, laborers, and other beneficiaries. Their children would go to the surrounding schools and universities.

The density led to a vibrant youth culture, with sidewalks reportedly alive and full of the new "freedom" of the times. These youngsters made up a substantial portion of the JDLC Band's concert attendees, and sometimes they would do sort of a roll call of Projects 2, 3, and so forth, or simply ask "Kumusta na kayong mga taga-jeproks?"

The song that drilled the term into our craniums, "Laki sa Layaw" essentially does what much music of that era does: protest about how the youth are stereotyped, and poke fun at common criticism of those hippies with loose morals.

An alternative explanation is that jeproks is a modified and shortened form of the phrase "jeepney rock". This pertained to the long-haired rockers who listened to the classic rock commonly played in public transportation at that time. (Supporters of this hypothesis claim that the binaliktad na Projects was just a happy coincidence.) It may be that the now-senior ones are the few that still blast Deep Purple and Anak Bayan in their jeeps.

That works too.

Sama Dilaut Street Beats

PVC pipes, old milk cans, rubber.

My friend from Mindanao, a new Manila transplant, recently sent me an SMS: "Badjao race is everywhere."

True, they turn up everywhere, sometimes selling pearls from their boats along various coastlines. Once, off a rocky Batangas beach, I shared a small meal with a Badjao family. They cooked it over a small fire inside their boat.


Their clothes, some of which were of other clothes sewn together.

In our metropolis the young "sea gypsies" bring songs to smoky, busy intersections. Some of them have tambol skills unparalleled. They roam the sidewalks or sit on jeepney steps, singing and making beats with their hands, which fly in the air like "whut".


Another drum shot.

One day I had the fortune of hanging a bit around a group of them. They spoke with heavily accented Tagalog, telling me how they live in the large Muslim settlement of Maharlika, and play on the street to earn a few coins. After I asked them where they were from, a young girl started pounding on her drum and went into song, wrenching my gut with a beautiful, haunting verse about life on the streets.


A bit of merriment.

The energy was not unlike Roma songs by little girls on Italian trains. Or Indian street children music.


Squinting from the sun.

Days after, I can still hear her voice in my head, and my humming is a poor copy of the unusual scale she used.

I have no romantic notions of these street tambolistas. Some people would generalize them as professional beggars, lazy people. They are obviously subjected to many of the stereotypes that initially nomadic peoples like the Roma (proper term for who we know as "gypsies"), especially by those who encounter them more frequently, in other regions of the Philippines.


Written by an adult for the group.

There are more and more people saying that the word badjao is actually an incorrect (and inappropriate) term for the Sama Dilaut. Click here and here for very interesting information on them. Certainly us landlocked, sedentary fellows fail to realize how much different their context is-- in terms of lifestyle, economy, ideas of property, social organization. It truly is worth a few minutes of your time.

The next time they run up to you with a song, you may listen better.

Saguijo Turns Four!

(Click on the image to enlarge)

Come out to Saguijo on 27-28 June 2008. They are four years old (already?!) and the lineup is pretty great.

Saguijo Cafe + Bar
7612 Guijo St., San Antonio Village
Makati City
(+632) 8978629

Making Merry Out of Nothing, Like in Refugee Camp

Gogol Bordello's "Oh No" says important things about our often wasted ability to make everyday a celebration. It also reminds me of the crisis-come-togetherness of the Filipino (i.e. brownout barbeques and People Power parties).

It makes a good manifesto against boring living:

Sometimes when facing common trouble
When whole town is screwed
We become actually human
Act like Prometheus would

Suddenly there is more humor
And a party tabor style
People ringing one another
"Yo man, how was your blackout?"

Suddenly there is more music
Made with the buckets in the park
Girls are dancing with the flashlights
I got only one guitar!

And you see brothers and sisters
All engaged in sport of help
Making merry out of nothing
Like in refugee camp

Oh yeah, oh no, it doesn't have to be so
It is possible any time anywhere
Even without any dough
Oh yeah, oh no, it doesn't have to be so
Forces of the creative mind are unstoppable!

And you think, all right, now people
They have finally woke up
But as soon as the trouble over
Watch them take another nap

Nobody is making merry
Only trotting scared of boss
Everybody's making hurry
For some old forgotten cause

But one thing is surely eternal
It's condition of a man
Who don't know where he is going
Who don't know where does he stand
Who's dream power is corked bottle
Put away in dry dark place
Who's youth power is well buried
Under propaganda waste

Who's dream life is in opposition
With the life he leads today
Who's beaten down in believing
It just kinda goes this way!

Oh no, it doesn't have to be so
Forces of the creative mind are unstoppable