Daily Archives: 22/06/2009

Care for Some Blood in Your Coffee?

nestle has blood

“Nestlé workers in the Philippines under the United Filipino Employees-Drug Food and Allied Industries -Kilusang Mayo Uno (UFE-DFA-KMU) have been on strike since January 14, 2002 for their right to retirement benefits. To this day, Nestlé refuses to include the workers’ retirement benefits in the collective bargaining negotiation despite a Supreme Court ruling ordering them to negotiate. The strike has both directly and indirectly resulted in the deaths of 23 union members, including union president Diosdado Fortuna, who was assassinated on his way home from the picket line on September 22, 2005, his predecessor Meliton Roxas was also murdered and the current leadership continue to live in fear of their lives.”

Slideshow: Solidarity Protests Vs Nestle in Vienna, New Zealand

Posted using ShareThis


Over three years ago we got a free ceramic coffee mug for every jar of Nescafe Classic we bought from the shops.  It was a nice promotional idea, very novel and rather fancy, we thought at first.  We didn’t know how much instant coffee we were consuming at the time, but the mugs started to pile up in our cupboard.  We ended up with far too many while the promo was running that eventually we started giving them away, sometimes to thankful shop employees who probably buy the cheaper range of coffee or coffee-tasting mixture (using chicory I think).

I thought that was the end of it.  Then we flew with our kids for the first time to my family in the Philippines.  They had had the same promotion running there.  Or so we thought.  There was a big difference.  The mugs were made of plastic.

I bet no one else knew about this double standard except their ad campaign managers.   It turns out they don’t just scrimp on their promotional materials when it comes to the “third world” (how I hate that term!).

Puddles After the First Monsoon Rain

monsoon kuno

The secret breath of summer
curls from his lips, blurs
the gray, melting world
on the other side of the glass.

Early monsoon runs
lightly on tin roofs,
then swiftly retreats
to the greens of distant hills.

Doors along the narrow line
of houses burst open with children
even as banana leaves bend to drop
the last beads of rain down their palms.

He is among them, this boy
with the breath of summer.
The palpable scent of earth
roused by rain fills his lungs.

He runs in zigzags to his friends,
making sure to hit every puddle
with every leap. The louder
the splash, the better.

Mud must be spread far and wide.
The undeclared ritual
to celebrate the slightest change
of tropical seasons.


This appears in that other website I now loathe due to all the one-sided changes the admin keep making.   They also practice something that I consider stealing.  I should never have joined there, but I did find some interesting folks who have now become very good friends.