Catching Up

I was in a taxi earlier today, and we were passing through the Magallanes area on the way to Taft when suddenly, a man on the sidewalk tripped just outside my window. The fall was so bad, so desperately clumsy, that it made me take a second look. The guy running was dressed in dark, drab and dusty clothes, and, as the taxi driver would comment later, "He looked like he came out of a trash can." He ran, and fell on the dusty Metro Manila sidewalk, his faded yellow slippers bending. But he immediately stood up, and ran off again.

I'm sure he was bleeding somewhere.

The next moment people from around the area started screaming a shared, incoherent warning. Fingers were pointed, people were running, and a man hastily looking into his bag ran past, another person close behind him carrying a long, black bat. Immediately, we locked the taxi doors. But the running stranger had already been spotted on a distant overpass, people's eyes never leaving his retreating back.

But maybe I'm too dramatic.

I became really, inexplicably depressed though, seeing that happen within a 100-meter radius of myself. I had never witnessed anything remotely realistic before - although, yes, some idiot pocketed my Nokia while I was walking in front of him/her past McDonald's SM MoA. Seeing that man run, watching all those people shout with raised fingers, I felt so very depressed. I think, someday, I should like to live in a Philippines where people steal because they are evil, not because they are poor.

I barely saw what he had been carrying, and somehow, I wonder what it had been.

Overwhelmed

My German professor asks this one day: “In the Philippines, do your parents have a say about when you’re supposed to get married? Or how you’re supposed to get married? Say, if you parents tell you that you have to marry this person, would you have to?”

The class answers in the negative. A lot of head shaking occurs.

Professor: “But if your parents tell you that you can’t marry a person, you wouldn’t marry that person?”

The class nods. And everyone looks at each other, realizes a strange collective predicament, and laughs nervously.

__

The funny thing about the Filipino culture is that there aren’t a lot of unbreakable standards. There are a lot of traditions and superstitions, but most, if not all, are subject to the preference of a fickle general public. At least, from how my Gen X brain sees it.

I was born in 1991, a decade or two after the OFW phenomenon brought back – in figurative balikbayan boxes – ‘alien’ ideas from overseas. Growing up, I read only English novels and spoke English 80% of the time. (Because I was in school 80% of the time, hanging out with friends who fancied the Cartoon Network, Goosebumps, The Babysitters Club, etc.) I swear I could hear Japanese songs playing out in the radio of my childhood. I can still sing Pizzicato Five’s Sweet Soul Revue and Globe’s Feel Like Dance – in garbled Japanese, of course. Although I studied Philippine History as an educational prerequisite for graduation, I can’t express in detail – more so with passion – the lives of del Pilar, Mabini, etc. In fact, I’m probably better at tracing the genealogy of Potterdom’s Malfoy Family – a true shame, since that clan’s but fiction.

When I matured – I daresay – it became common for people my age to get pregnant, to get someone pregnant, to get married early, or to work in a call center even when they didn’t want to. It became so common, in fact, that such stories – which started out as whispered news bits shared in the most innocuous of places – became fodder for dinner conversations with mere acquaintances. Something like, “Oh, by the way, Y is seven months pregnant. Saw it on Facebook. Seems she’s getting married this weekend.” And the reply goes, “Oh, good for her then. I hope she’s happy. Can you pass the soy sauce, please?”

This is not a condescending rant. At least it is not meant to be. Just because I have a degree, am not pregnant, and am not fearful for my financial future doesn’t mean I am putting my own lifestyle on a shop display window. This is simply an observation. The petty rambling of an overwhelmed 20-something in Manila, during an era of change so constant you don’t even notice it. I can name more talents from Johnny’s Entertainment than I can enumerate senators of the Philippines. I don’t know the latest updates about GMA’s health, but I have heard that Robin from How I Met Your Mother apparently can’t have kids. I don’t really know why my country doles out days off work, but I don’t complain because that only gives me more time to waste on Tumblr with other fangirls scattered all over the world.

Is it my fault I’m clueless, overwhelmed, and passive? Perhaps. It may be the fault of my parents’ generation, but its own ignorance can’t possibly be what it wanted for itself, right? In any case, I’ve always thought my situation ordinary. I wonder how many people out there realize the same about their own lives. Or existence, whichever.

Making It, Breaking It

The hosts of Miss Universe 2010, that beautiful woman and that "lost-looking" celebrity host - who kept me wishing that more competent Mario guy was there - predicted during the beginning of the show that the Question and Answer portion would make or break a candidate's shot at the crown. For Venus Raj, Miss Philippines Universe, it broke her. Badly.

All things considered, her answer wasn't stupid. Her question was: What's the biggest mistake you've ever made in your life, and what did you do make it right? Her answer was that she had never done anything "major, major" BAD in her life, and that her family had always given her everything she'd ever needed. Which is a pretty decent, honest answer to the question, methinks. It was relatively well said, too, disregarding the whole "major, major" incident and all.

Still, Molave's entire TV area erupted in cries of horror - complete with the act of hair-pulling, care of me, of course - as Venus' laughing face was magnified on the TV before us. And I'm pretty sure the reaction isn't unique to this group of rather arrogant, relatively intelligent college students who expected much more from Venus. I think it's safe to guess that nationwide, Filipinos from all walks of life, possessing varied levels of educational attainment and personal wealth, cringed, internally or externally, at Venus' answer.

Being me, though - that is, a person prone to yakking off incoherently once placed on an elevated platform, whatever the height - I completely understand how her answer transformed into that. Stress. Self-consciousness. Her firm belief that she'd never done anything "major, major" wrong EVER. So in case anyone's reading this - and I'm not banking on THAT - don't laugh at her. And no rolling of eyes, either. I mean, imagine if we sent Janina San Miguel instead.

This whole fiasco made me realize three things though: 1) that no matter how beautiful you are, or how well you carry yourself, what's inside that skull of yours makes or breaks everything; 2) that life boils down to a few moments; and, 3) that if I had been asked that question, I'd say I never took my studying seriously - ponder where that can take you.

ditching John Lloyd

A few minutes before the final scene of the movie One More Chance, it became too cheesy for me to stand. Seeking a reprieve from Bea Alonzo and JLC’s tennis match of love quotes (with tears on the side) I trudged over the TV area just in time to see Perfecto Yasay and Jojo Binay interrogate each other on Harapan: The ABS CBN/ANC Vice Presidential Debate. I told myself, “You know the movie sucks, anyway. Why don’t you watch Mar wow the crowd instead?” So I said goodbye to John Lloyd-Bea during the commercial break (because, no doubt, Manny Villar’s face is the only one I’ll see) and returned to watch Mar Roxas and Loren Legarda battle wits armed with credentials.

[On a side note, I now understand why Sir Nogoy always berates orange-wearing students in his class. One time, he commented so acerbically on my classmate’s orange lanyard that the guy actually took it off his neck and stuffed it into his bag, prompting Sir Nogoy to half-apologize. But if I hated Villar that much, I suppose I'd hate orange as well.]

Mar and Loren’s face-off was the only one from Round 3 that I bothered to watch. Mar asked his question first: Why did you choose an environment advocacy when the Philippines is insignificant in terms of causing climate change (producing greenhouse gases)? Loren replied that the Philippines is one of the top 10 most vulnerable places to live in given that we’re mostly coastal, and politicians should pay environment-related matters utmost attention. Then she went on naming all her projects (environment-related and not) as politicians are wont to do, before she slipped and mentioned her “shared” origin with Mar Roxas, citing that he comes from Capiz while she hails from Antique.

She dug her own grave.

Hearing this probably made Mar Roxas happy (although whether he was happy because of their shared heritage, one can’t be too sure of) because the next thing he did was speak to Loren in “their” native tongue. Although I’m not from the Panay area, I actually understood what he was saying; basically, he argued that although it’s true that we’re highly affected by climate change, we can’t really coerce the high polluters into limiting the waste discharge, can we?

I only wish Loren understood it half as lucidly as I did. The moment Mar finished asking his question, she replied very defensively, saying her grandmother came from Antique, and Relative So-and-So came from San Pedro, etc. To put it mildly, Loren lost it, ending her speech very badly, talking about red tide and obviously not really understanding what she was saying.

I can’t blame her though. If someone targeted my weakness in front of THE WHOLE PHILIPPINES, I’d probably panic and suffer instant foot-in-mouth disease as well. It’s a miracle she managed to keep talking. Her broadcasting background probably saved her, but barely.

Anyway, she was so shaken up that she couldn’t wait for the timer to start ticking before she asked Mar Roxas her question: Why is it that you keep changing sides? Initially you were on Erap’s side, but then you severed ties with him. Then you were part of the Arroyo administration (under DTI), but years later you were badmouthing her in public. And now, you recently asked Erap’s blessing to run for the May 2010 elections. So kindly explain why you keep switching sides.

Mar Roxas’ answer to that (and to the follow-up question which was similar to the first one except that it focused more on the Liberal Party instead of just Mar) basically revolved around the idea that “my boss is the people” such that he’ll do whatever they want him to do. Regarding the Erap issue, he said that he severed ties with the ex-president on very civil “lalaki sa lalaki” terms. He even sort of dared Loren to call Erap, because he was sure the guy would speak well of him; apparently, they separated on “good” terms. Regarding the issue with Ms Arroyo he said he went all opposition because he saw that what was happening was not right. And then he ended his defense with another “my boss is the people” statement, much to the delight of his yellow-clad supporters.

Oh and yes, he also said, "hindi naman ako yung paiyak-iyak sa Senado".

It came as no surprise that Mar’s trust rating in that particular segment was 91%+. Loren’s was 40%+ or so. She looked seriously forlorn, she did.

The lessons to be derived from this whole fiasco (which will undoubtedly show up tomorrow morning with highly sensationalized headlines) are: 1) Never pretend to be someone you’re not; and, 2) When you know you haven’t done anything wrong, there’s no reason to panic. (Unless you’ve got intense stage fright, that is.) The first lesson we learned from Loren: claiming to come from a province just to get votes from the people in that area is a very bad idea – which is also very irritating, if you’re someone from that place and you know a particular politician isn’t your kababayan at all. For all aspiring politicians, learn from Loren’s example: at least pick a province with a language you understand.

Lesson Two we learned from Mar. (I daresay he was a bit maangas tonight, but, oh well. He’s a politician, and those guys are about as predictable as the Kamia bed check system.) When Loren “politely” inquired about his loyalties – she actually felt the need to use the phrase “walang personalan pero…” – he was smiling as he waited for her to finish asking her question. In fact, he actually looked excited to answer it, as though he was hoping to get the chance to explain his reasons for all that switching he did. Somehow… I feel scared for him. His chances of winning the vice-presidency are too high that the only way to stop him now is via sabotage.

What Truly Matters to Filipinos

I don't know if it's an annual thing, but this year, the College of Law initiated an Academic Congress, a sort of fora mainly for the faculty of UP, although students are invited (or required) to attend as well. It's a week long event, spanning Feb 1 to 5, and kicking off the entire "intellectual celebration" was Randy David's lecture this morning, which he entitled "What Truly Matters to Filipinos". As always, I meticulously kept notes (in my beautiful handwriting, if I may be so vain) detailing almost every idea Prof. David pointed out during his 45-min speech. Now, however, there are only a few ideas that have implanted themselves in my head - blame it all on a short memory.

Three points, the first of which is Diaspora. According to Prof. David, what truly matters to Filipinos (without us fully recognizing or appreciating it) is our families. With the phenomenon of Filipino migration, however, (9.1 million to 192 countries, in barely 3 decades) our greatest resource, what truly matters to us, falls apart. Economically, there is no doubt OFWs contribute to our GNP. But culturally, the results of the OFW Phenomenon are ambiguous. On one hand, as Prof. David mentioned, Filipinos who have traveled abroad are able to set themselves apart from Philippine society and inspect it - weaknesses, strengths, and all. Also, because most of them are immersed in "mature" democracies, they imbibe the political culture of their host countries - the principle of initiative, the value of one's voice, etc. - and they become assets to nation-building once they return to the Philippines. On the other hand, parents, children, brothers, sisters, are forced to leave their families behind. Personally, among these groups, I think the absence of parents are the most difficult to bear with.

My mother has been working abroad for a considerable part of the last decade; I won't say I mind, because when she left for Hong Kong, I was too young to understand what the implications of her departure were, and now that she's in Israel, I'm studying away from home, anyway. Honestly, I think I have an attitude problem, although I'm not sure if this is because of my genes or the fact that I've been raised by a father who loved me a bit too much such that I grew up pampered and clueless. My mother has told me though, during her brief stay at home in between her two overseas postings, that she's handled children of OFWs - most of them grew up without parents, because either their moms or dads or both had been working abroad since they were tiny tots. And my mother, although she often comments on others' behavior, was firm in her belief that kids whose parents left them early to work for a living grew stuck up, and selfish, and pampered. They were true-blue consumerists, whose ideas of their parents were summed up in balikbayan boxes sent home to compensate for the absence of parental guidance. They were spoiled, and impatient, and general nothing like the traditional masunurin Filipino kid. And although I'm all that, too, I feel disgusted that my generation's come out like this.

And although I know my mother's probably not reading this, I'd like to thank her for turning down that overseas job she was offered in the early part of her career; I was not even ten years old. She wanted to watch me grow, she said, and for that I'm thankful. I may not remember, but I appreciate it.

Second point - the role of the academe. Sir Mike Falgui of DECL fame once told our Eng12 class, "If you go out of this classroom thinking what I think, then I will have failed you as a teacher." That statement hit me hard, committing itself to my memory even after all these years, long after derivation techniques from last year had vanished from my thoughts completely. From that point on, I began to respect him even more, because, from the very beginning, he knew that his mission was to teach us to think, not to teach us what to think. In Prof. David's lecture earlier, he tackled the same issue, saying that the academe must not dictate what should be, or how things should be done - think of the entire academic body as an adviser to politicians' king. If the academe dives into the political arena, too actively taking roles it is not meant to take on, it drags itself down - it changes people's perception of it as an institution. According to Prof. David, if it commits that mistake, there will come a time when people will regard the academe not as a institution of knowledge, but as an institution of opinions. And as the sole sector in society that must uphold the truth above all else, that connotation simply will not do.

Honestly, I don't understand this point fully. My classmate Mahon, who asked the final question in this morning's open forum, pulled the words out of my mouth when she asked Prof. David to explain further what he meant by the academe keeping out of "the heat of the moment" - the political arena, so to speak. She said that each time she read "moments of history" when students took an active role in nation-building (and I think she was referring to the Martial Law era, among other histories) she felt empowered. But if she understood Prof. David clearly, then it would mean that students shouldn't march down national highways screaming bloody "topple down dictatorship", right? For his part, I don't think Prof. David answered the question very clearly - or maybe I was just drifting off above the clouds, as usual? I'd love to make a clear distinction though - not that I'd follow his advice even if he cleared things up.

Final point - a true intellectual. This point is a very shallow one. Basically, I just think Prof. David is an absolute genius. If he were forty or fifty years younger, perhaps I'd even have a crush on him. When he lectures, he seems to be evoking emotions out of you - for a moment during his speech about effects to families of diaspora, I actually felt my eyes prickle with invisible tears. He's mild-mannered, he says things simply without being simple, he speaks of human experience with a blend of someone who's up there but down here, of someone who knows things and someone who sees things. And I know my final point of reflection should be about the lecture, or the open forum, but honestly, the man left a deep impression on me as well. Others did, too. In that room, surrounded by eloquent, intelligent, humble individuals, sharing different ideas, demanding answers to their questions, I found myself thinking I want to be like them. I want to contribute something to this world. I want to be a true intellectual - one who thinks, but one who doesn't think only.

Is there hope for one whose GWA is barely a notch above 2-flat?

what matters is what must be

I just got home from a date to the GRF Grand Reunion at the Gateway Suites - was with two Philo majors namely K and S. We had a very enjoyable, enlightening, and slightly mind-boggling conversation on the taxi ride home, but anyway, the similarities and differences between Ateneo and UP are not what I plan to write about.

The highlight of the entire (almost) six-hour event for me, discounting the very enjoyable media board photo op with K, S and 2 new friends, was Hon. G. Padaca's speech. S says she used the same speech once before, from the intro down to the punch lines, but I didn't really care much, mainly because I'd never heard the gobernadora speak before. To attempt to share the same speech through my words would botch the message Hon. G. was trying to convey, but anyway, I'll try.

Basically, she shared her story of triumph over the Dynasty in Isabela politics, her battle with polio since she was three years old, and how, upon being awarded the Gerry Roxas Leadership Award on her high school graduation in the '80s, she was too shy to go up the stage. As a child, she had preferred studying quietly in a room, far away from the prying eyes of people, and she could barely understand why she had gotten an award for leadership, of all things.

But, many years later the meaning behind the award materialized as she took a good look around, and realized it would not do to simply wait for others to act, that for one to achieve results, one must take action even without prodding for others. That's why she ran for Governor - and won, by a 17K margin. Even though she was physically handicapped, and she had no experience in politics, she possessed the one vision of ending the political dynasty in Isabela, and that's what kept her going.

And what touched me most about her speech, aside from the part about each person having to act to get what s/he wanted instead of waiting for others to do something, was the part when she said that for some reason only God knows, all of us GRLAs gathered in that room were given the Gerry Roxas Award to fulfill a predetermined, distinct purpose that only we, and no one else, could fulfill. That even when we felt weak-kneed and incapable, we had to try and see how we could change things, because even the small, even the frail, could do something for the world somehow.

And then, after joining the standing ovation that the crowd had given her after her speech, I found myself wondering what I was waiting for. Was I waiting to grow? Should I force myself to grow? I felt weak, and I felt useless, and in UP I had never been possessed with the same driven spirit that filled me in high school. I wondered what my purpose was.

Korean Hospitality

One of the values Filipinos are proud of, to the point of drilling it to our elementary-age kids by way of textbooks and conscious example, is hospitality. According to my trusty Merriam-Webster, to be hospitable is to be: 1) given to generous and cordial reception of guests; and, 2) to readily receptive. To be honest, however, I've never been particularly fond of this innate trait of ours. It's not uncommon for heads of households to borrow money from their friends or, God forbid, 5-6 lenders just to be able to serve something to their guests during fiesta time. I don't like that. (But for the record, if I were in the tightest spot imaginable, I think I could tolerate it.)

My point is that after attending the UPD International Center Korean Night (20 November 09), I realized that our Korean counterparts may just be as hospitable as we are. The whole event was very carefully planned, as evidenced by the "parody movies" that they presented - as anyone who's tried to film and edit anything would know, you can't edit and sub decently within a short span of time. They also made sure that the guests were very "at home", and I daresay they even thought of everything with the guests in mind. Obviously, one of their top priorities, if not their top priority, was to please the crowd.

I have to admit that, initially, my goal for attending the event was getting free food to save on dinner; I'm not big on KPop, unlike a certain faction of the Filipino below-20 population. I stayed even after having eaten though, because: 1) I thought it rude to fall prey to the infamous eat-and-run habit; and, 2) the first half of the program looked promising. So I guess the organizers got their wish: it was a DEFINITE crowd pleaser.

Bana and I didn't get there in time to see the Super Junior impersonation that some of the guys did, but I really don't mind because the succeeding performances were excellent. I particularly liked the Taekwondo Dance, the Fan Dance, the solo performance that a visiting dance professor performed, and the Sign Language Dance - just for the record, I thought the solo performance was breathtaking. Of course, the last 'stage' was very moving, too: an acoustic version of Heal the World by everyone involved in the event. Another thing I liked about Korean Night? They had a donation box near the entrance, the proceeds of which will go to Ondoy victims. Isn't that nice of them?

I couldn't help feeling biter though, even after I had such a good time. See, I was wondering why we couldn't come up with something like that - every culture has its own interesting details, after all. Why is it that, despite the large number of Filipino immigrants in each corner of the world, their children don't organize events like this? A university is the perfect venue for cultural nights, so why can't Filipino kids studying abroad (and maybe even in the country) take advantage of that? Is it because they've assimilated too well? And is our 'colonial mentality' worth blaming for that?

Then again, I'm not the right person to rant about things like this.