Tawo: bai puede mo padaplin gamay, maka block ka sa mo tan-aw.
Photographer: Naa koy ID nag bayad ko ug registration. Ngano mo padaplin man ko.
pila ra man imo registration bai PhP1,000 pesos and you will claim all the rights to be there blocking the view from others?
Ang ni hangyu ra ba kay balikbayan who resides in California, USA. Who paid thousands of dollars for fare and hotel accomodation just to watch Sinulog.
this is just one of the few stories concerning over zealous photographers during Sinulog.
source:
http://www.philstar.com/freeman-opin...-photographers
I've been trying to remember the last time I watched the Sinulog Grand Parade so that I could share my most recent memories of it to my daughter. This was to prepare her for the enormous crowd, frequent pushing and shoving, the noise of the pulsating drums, the heat, and the eternal walk back home.
She was doing quite well in managing all of these when during a critical moment in a performance, the marshals decided to push the crowd back with their ropes. As they did so, two young photographers wearing I AM NIKON shirts got stuck in front of my daughter. I warned them that there was a kid behind them along with a chorus of other voices echoing the same. Since they seemed to be so hell bent in maintaining their positions, I extended my left arm to protect my daughter from the pressure and push her back as well. I wanted to carry her but the lack of space won't allow me to.
When the pushing stopped, I turned to my daughter and saw her eyes filled with tears. Her chest got hurt because of the young male photographer's backpack which directly placed pressure in front of her during the pushing episode.
I tapped his shoulder and told him that he hurt my child. All I got was an indignant blank stare. I repeated my point. He asserted, “Crowd control. Dapat andun kayo sa kabilang side. May ID ako.” He was waving his ID with a faded name in front of me. I told him that if it were the case then all of us except the two of them should have been driven away by the marshals early on. “Cebuano ako,” he angrily retorted. Though I was surprised by the uber off-tangent and regionalist answer, I replied that I was the same and I also told them to stop being so elitist. I just garnered a smirk from her lady companion before they stomped off.
I could hear the comments of the other women as the exchange ended:
“Giingnan gani nga naa'y bata, mamugos gyud.”
“Gasalig ra nga naa'y ID. Dili hinu-on ta kita tungod ani nila.”
My daughter decided to stop watching the parade altogether. While I was trying to comfort her, several thoughts popped up:
1. My idea of a 'photographer' is a very romanticized one. I have always admired photographers. In the wars that have passed, particularly during the Vietnam War, many of them died because they had a firm commitment to delivering the truth. In the midst of current conflicts, many of them, along with journalists continue to do so.
I have to come into terms with the fact that not all are of such a high caliber. It leaves me wondering if there is such a thing as ethics for photographers. I thought it was unnecessary. The excellent and widely published photographers I have met are simple but extremely incisive in the practice of their craft; open to offhand remarks and serious constructive criticism; very giving when you need their help; and above all, respectful to the subject and the process of pursuing the subject. Respect was absent in these two young photographers.
2. The more recent Sinulog Grand Parades have all the trimmings of capitalist infusion and marketability. I hope that despite these hype-inducing, crowd-drawing, and money-stimulating features, the essence of this love offering to our dear Santo Niño won't be totally erased.
Fond memories of Sinulog festivities include Mama's never ending reminder that even if the higantes look funny and the dances are diverse in terms of theme and extravagance, these are all love offerings or halad to the Child Jesus.
In the past, the other children and I always had the best “seats” around Fuente Osmeña and along Jones Avenue during the Parade. The foremost reason is obvious: because Sto. Niño is a child. As far as I can remember, this festival is for children and for everyone. This is not solely for those I AM NIKON photographers who act like they own all the viewing space on the streets and that they are above all the other spectators.
3. It is difficult to explain to a child why other people don't say sorry. The differences and the meanings of apologies are different across cultures. I hope the Cebuano culture, proud as it is, hasn't forgotten the importance of saying “I'm sorry.”
As we were walking home, I asked her if she would still like to come home with me next Sinulog. She just gave a pout - a resounding “No!” When I asked her why, she said she couldn't forget that she got hurt by “the man with a big camera.”
Maria Ima Carmela L. Ariate
149A Scout Gandia Street,
Barangay Sacred Heart, Diliman, Quezon City 1103
Camera culture in Cebu: Has it came to this point already or are you one of them? please read
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