|
| |
Aimee
Marcos does it the hard way |
| |
|
| |
Aimee
Marcos needs your dollar.
The 29-year-old reckons it’ll get her four of those China-made Good Morning
brand towels in Divisoria that cost around P10 each. Add to that the funds she
raises from her Princess Bato events like the Sigaw ni Maria Clara concerts she
puts up in March to celebrate women’s month, then she can throw in soap
and maxipads she buys in bulk at the warehouse store Shopwise or in SM Supermarket.
Last year, she bundled her buys in hygiene kits she personally
distributed to inmates of the Women’s Correctional. This year she’s
set to hand them over to the abused and battered women
of Marillac village in Batangas.
This is also the larger purpose of why she plays drums
in a band called The Dorques (pronounced as correctly spelled),
which she formed a year-and-a-half ago with
friends and her cousin, Joffy Cruz, and whose sound one writer has descibed
as “B-52’s-meets-the
Gang of Four.”
It’s also the reason Princess Bato morphed from being the name of the high
school rock band Aimee formed in the posh all-girls school, Poveda, to the title
of a one-off Woodstock-type event featuring an overflow of unpublicized bands,
to what it is now – a “melting pot” of advocacies including
the environment, children, women and “everything,” she says.
“I approached some friends who were very supportive about the idea and
were also very keen on trying to help,” she relates. “You know they
were saying, ‘I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where to
start.’ Ang daming advocacies...but I also don’t trust them. Because
even though they’re doing such a good thing, you don’t know where
your money goes to.”
Thus, Princess Bato never hands out cash. “We make it a point to go to
the charity that is our beneficiary. We ask the organziers, ‘Hey what do
you need, anong kailangan niyo?’ Sa Women’s Correctional facility,
for example, they needed mga towels, mga soaps, toiletries, stuff. Because they
were saying they have ‘x’ amount of allowance that’s not enough.
Sinasabi ko, ‘Papano yung pag-regla?’”
So maxipads are big on Aimee’s list. So are toothpaste and shampoo. But
it’s not been easy soliciting sponsorship for the events she throws even
if – and let’s get this out of the way – her ate is Imee, her
kuya is Bong Bong and she is Ferdinand and Imelda’s bunso.
“Most multinational companies that I approached they’ve always said,
we already have something in line for that and our efforts are put there already,” she
says. “Which I completely respect. I mean, I’ve seen some of the
programs that they do; they do work and that’s great. But... parang let’s
just say the way they’re marketing the product...feeling ko, more in line
with what I’m trying to do for the women. Like yung mga soaps and stuff
like that.” She stares into her milky coffee. “How can that not
be in line with the pharmaceutical companies?”
She explains: “May kaya naman sila. I’ll ask for 50,000, let’s
just say. Half of that is (payable in) goods! Dude! I’ve already accommodated
half the prison for P25,000 worth of toiletries and whatever it is you can accommodate
me with. Ayaw. So I’m like, 75 percent of it; give me 10 grand even after
the event. Wala.”
‘Unahin
ang kababayan’
This is weirding me out. I can’t wrap my brain around the image of a Marcos
daughter begging for money and being turned away. Later she tells me why she
chooses not to trade on her surname, knowing loyalists are legion. “What’s
the point of that?” she says of her family’s offer to make a few
phonecalls on her behalf. “It’s going to be a favor because I want
the people who are helping me out to know why they’re helping me out and...
I want them to be able to experience it. It’s not just P50,000, you know.
I don’t want Princess Bato as a recipient of 50,000 and that’s it.
I want them to see Princess Bato as an organization they gave P50,000 to that
produced this. That’s what I wanna see.”
No matter the rejection, Aimee scrambles back to her feet
because she finds support from friends in Princess Bato
and other like-minded organizations she’s
aligned with like Rock Ed Philippines and Dakila. Rock Ed hopes to “educate
youth through rock culture” and Dakila is a collective of performing artists “committed
to advocating social awareness among both their industry peers and their immediate
audiences.”
So what got her involved in advocacy work in the first place?
It was actually the Indon tsunami in 2004 that got Aimee going. But in a roundabaout
way. “I kinda saw what happened in Quezon at the time the tsunami hit Indonesia
and Thailand,” she recalls, referring to the mudslide that engulfed an
entire town in Quezon province. “The media was hyping ...the tsunami
in Banda Aceh...completely forgetting that we were hit first.”
The people she knew were equally distracted. “I could hear all of these
people saying, ‘Oo, I’m going to Indonesia, pupunta akong Phuket,
I’m going to do things and I’m going to help.’ Sa loob-loob
ko, the intentions are very well and good but they’re very misplaced. So
that’s when it came together na why don’t I make a concert that will
help a charity. Or I’ll put a charity up – ambisyosa pa ko noon.”
She looked into the different charities and decided they
were already doing a great job pushing their causes. “It’s just that they don’t
have the support they need,” she observed. “Sabi ko, why don’t
we put it all together and make it a melting pot. That’s how it became
Princess Bato.”
I guess you could say she has her work cut out for her.
Though she recoils at the thought of politics, her altruistic
urges she simply credits to her upbringing. “Everybody’s
opinion will come into play, of course, and I’ll probably be shot down
for it, (but) yung pinakita (ng parents ko) sa ‘kin bilang anak, yung example
kasi nila, unahin mo dapat kababayan mo, eh. You have a responsibility to your
countrymen, to your immediate surroundings, to your community.... Because once
you can see you can do something about it, do it. It’s your responsibility
to do something about it.”
Rebellion? Redemption?
Aimee was seven when her family was exiled. She remembers little of those days
and hopes people will cut her some slack for being part of a family that’s
almost universally vilified. “Seven-years-old ako so malay ko ba kung anong
nangyari,” she says. Then lowering her voice, she admits, “Of course,
I know now more or less what happened but naiintindihan ko pa rin (‘yung)
sakit ng mga Pinoy, yung sama ng loob nila sa amin. Gets ko yon. And I will never
ever take that away from them cos that is their experience. Just like, I’m
hoping, because I’ve afforded you this respect, afford me naman a little
bit na, oo, sa inyo masama siyang tao, pero at the end of the day, tatay ko ‘yon
eh.”
This is possibly why she takes great pains to be a regular
folk, from handing me a business card she whips out of
a plastic wallet that’s both cutesy
and ironic and which she says she got for P80 in Quiapo, to being excited by
the fact that because it was March 14 when we met, “suweldo na bukas!” Armchair
nitpickers can also read much into the fact that she is totally un-glam, vaguely
punk, proud of inching closer to 30 years, and doesn’t look like she skips
meals to fit into the skeletal possé favored by say, the likes of model
Ornussa Cadness, nephew Borgy Manotoc’s gal pal.
Her music and her advocacies appear like like the fine
line she could walk. On the face of it, they were both
cards of rebellion and redemption, if you will,
and keeps her safe from a terrible and profound history. As she says of the
causes she espouses, “In the ideal little bubble world where I live in, that’s
where I am.”
Aimee was 14 when the Marcoses returned to the Philippines
in 1992. She attended high school in Brent, an international
school, and Poveda. In college, she was
at the Ateneo in Katipunan for three years before relocating to Ilocos after
her brother, Bong Bong, was elected governor. There, she completed her last
year in college in Divine Word College of Laoag. She flew
to England for post-graduate
studies in Media and Culture and, on what she calls “a whim,” enrolled
at the College of Law in London.
“On my second year I also started working as a paralegal which completely
disillusioned me with the entire process of law. HA-HA-HA! The artist in me just
came out! Sabi ko, ‘Men, mamamatay ako nito in five years!’”
Saving up for a music player
Back in the Philippines, she fielded her resumé online but ended working
for two years with BMI, the family’s Ilocos-based overseas employment
agency business. She was then recruited by Microsoft to head an online anti-child-pornography
campaign before she joined her current job with 88db.com in January of 2006.
She is also set to head a new online project with ABS-CBN.
“I’m really a geek! An unapologetic geek.”
She is not, however, a gadgety person. “I’m a geek in the sense that
I love the whole technicality of it but I’m lazy, eh. Ano? I’m gonna
learn this new thing again?” she says, referring to new model cell phones. “Parang,
I’ve already updated my phonebook 10 million times! I’m fine with
(what I have). As long as my phone can call and text, I’m happy. Taking
pictures is a plus but other than that, wala na.”
Her biggest frustration “is possibly a music player,” she says. “I’m
still saving up for it.” She laughs. “I’m still saving up because...I
have a perforated drum so...my only big spend would probably be earphones. I
really don’t like the ones you put inside (your ears) because they’re
really bad for you. I want the ones to really drown out the world.”
Laughing again, she adds, “So when I listen to a
three-to-five minute song then I can be in ignorant bliss
again.”
For someone who had it both swimmingly and tough, the disclosure
makes as much sense as the words she lives by. “My
motto in life kasi is, like, nothing worth it ever came
easy.”
Which is why Aimee Marcos not only needs your dollar, she will happily sweat
for it. |
|
| |
Everything
Aimee
Her family, her boyfriend, the stuff she digs |
| |
Tell
us about your family.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Where do you wanna start? HA-HA-HA! Eleksiyon pa naman ngayon!
Wow, favorite time of year.
Politically, is the family supporting anybody?
To be honest with you, I don’t really know. Yun na nga, they totally respect
my feeling na wala talaga akong hilig. In terms of support naman, the people
that I support are my brother and sister. Unsaid na yon. Regarding the other
candidates, I have to say that I use the motto that ignorance is bliss? And I
will stick to that. (Laughs) I try not to read the news anymore because I can’t
deal. I can’t deal! I’d rather not comment about it because in
any way that I will ever comment about anything political, I will always piss
someone
off. And I would rather stay here, do my thing and help people out.
How do you deal with immediate prejudices when
they learn you’re a Marcos?
You try and understand. Yung mga kaibigan ko naman alam
na nila yan, eh. SOP na yan ‘pag ini-introduce nila ako sa iba, si Aimee talaga. Walang last
name. Ayoko ng last name cos when I’m durr and suddenly Marcos pops up,
someone introduces me with a Marcos attached, I leave. It’s not because
I’m not proud of who I am, that’s not it at all. It’s just
that for me, everyone will have an opinion about that time. Which I totally
respect. Kasi wala ako dun eh!
When we left, seven ako. Seven-years-old, so malay ko ba
kung anong nangyari. Of course I know now more or less
what happened. But naiintindihan ko pa rin
sakit ng mga Pinoy, yung sama ng loob nila sa amin. Gets ko yon. And I will
never ever take that away from them cos that is their experience,
eh. Just like, I’m
hoping, because I’ve afforded you this respect, afford me naman a little
bit na, oo, sa inyo, masama siyang tao, pero at the end of the day, tatay ko
yon eh.
At ikaw, ikaw.
Exactly. Exactly. As much as some people really, really
hate him, and my mom, and my family, I’d like to think naman that I’m doing something good.
Maybe change the way you think about them. Maybe. But that’s of course
up to them na. Bibigay ko na ‘yon sa kanila.
Do you see yourself turning your advocacies into
something more widespread?
Eventually, yes. But I don’t see politics an avenue
to help me succeed in what I want to achieve.
Widespread, kasi the people that I’m working with, the places I go, the
areas that we’re trying to reach, and the most wonderful tool and the most
terrible tool – that is the Internet. I mean the Philippines is becoming
more computer literate. Cebu is becoming a very big IT hub. That in and of itself,
I’m hoping, will spread out more and more.
And inevitably, nakikita ng youth na media is always the
key.... it’s a
really big deal. So that’s where we also want to harness our strengths,
the advocacies I’m trying to work with, anyway. We’re always trying
different forms of media – online, offline, events. These are the things
that make headlines. These are the things that make noise.
Why did you go into advocacy when you could’ve
just gone into music?
Again, this has to come from my parents and my family.
I know what they’re
capable of. I know what they did. And yes, ‘yun again, everybody’s
opinion will come into play, of course and I’ll probably be shot down for
it (but) yung pinakita nila sa ‘kin bilang anak, yung example kasi nila,
unahin mo dapat kababayan mo, eh. You have a responsibility to your countrymen,
to your immediate surroundings, to your community, as a person because once you
can see you can do something about it, do it. It’s your responsibility
to do something about it. You don’t necessarily have to be – how
do you say? – aggressive. There are a lot of ways to do the same thing
and get the same results. You just have to find which of those ways is best for
you. And that’s my mentality about everything, keeping in mind that at
the end of the day, even if it’s just 10 people that I helped, at least
those 10 people will be able to live a little better, or a day that was funny
because I was there.
What does your mom think about your way of serving?
At first she was like “Why don’t you do this, do that?” I said, “Mom,
hindi na gumagana ‘yung mga ganyan, iba na ang panahon.” Mommy has
her ways. Of course. And she knows what to get done and how to get it done in
a way that she gets it done. But because I showed her nga that I can get stuff
done the Aimee way (chuckles), she’s very supportive. Of course, essentially
as a mother you’re very scared for your child to go into anything that
is unknown, what you know is a hard road to travel and I think that was what
she was scared of for me. And not just her, but the entire family. They were
like, “Sigurado ka ba dyan? There are so many other ways of doing this.
Let me call ganito, ganyan.”
Ayoko kasing...I don’t...My motto in life kasi is, like, nothing worth
it ever came easy. For me I’d rather go own my way and own my respect rather
than inherit it ‘cos as much as I’m thankful for my parents and my
family and everything, they were great because they were great; I’m not
great because they were great, you know what I mean?
I am not my parents. I am a reflection of them, nothing more than that.
What do you listen to now?
I listen to the local bands a lot. Pedicab...Sinong Sikat,
Urban Dub, of course, Sandwich, Cambio. Ang gagaling ng
bands natin! It’s flourishing right now
and I couldn’t be prouder to be a Pinoy.
And movies?
I love to watch movies. The last movie I watched was 300.
Oh, men. I have this thing about ancient history. The Greeks
I love! The Romans, ahh, God, bring ‘em
on! Basta military law and history and iron-clad people with horsehair on top,
I dig it! If you’re a warrior or a Viking, bring ‘em on! All of
this stuff, I dig it, I love it!
Do you read?
I love to read. Right now I’m reading Tom Robbins, Villa Incognito. It’s
quite good, it’s funny. That’s one guy that if I could have lunch
with anybody alive, he would be it. Cause I think he is so irreverent that he’s
so amazing. I think, ha. That and Primitive Mythology by Joseph Campbell. And
every so often I nip back to my Harry Potter books because I really love Harry
Potter. I’m an unashamed Potterphile and I know it’s for 10-year-olds
but I’m a 10-year-old! Ha-ha-ha!
Are you in a relationship?
(Turns sheepish) Yes.
Matagal na?
Med-yo. Oo nga ‘no. But it’s like I started July so that’s
like eight months, seven months now. Okay lang.
Who’s the person?
No comment. Private life, sorry. Ha-ha-ha! No, he’s a nice guy. We’ve
met each other 12, 13 years ago and now we just started hanging out last year
because of the World Cup. Men in shorts, ‘di ba?! Men in short shorts
with very firm calves. Hi-hi-hi! You cannot go wrong! Ha-ha-ha! Then you can
watch
them in slo-mo!
He’s a little older than me. He works for his family. He supplies corporate
giveaways. So. Yah. I’m sweating now.
Anything else you want to say?
Probably my message for the OFWs is continue to do what
you do. But always remember that this is home. At kung
pwede, umuwi naman kayo kasi kailangan kayo dito.
Nami-miss na namin kayo lahat. Kaya umuwi na lang po kayo. Kayo yung kailangan
namin. One month out of the year is nothing. In a week, I can help you do something
in three days and you’ll have time pa to go to Boracay. We understand why
you do what you do. And you are the reason we are pushing forward. But if there’s
any chance of you doing it here, do it here na lang. |
| |
| |
| by Ces
Rodriguez |
| |
|
|
