August 28, 2008

Pride

ThePhilippines Through the Eyes of a Foreigner
By Barth Suretsky
Atin Ito Philippine NewsFeature April 2007

My decision to move to Manila was not a precipitous one. I used to work in New York as an outside agent of Philippines Air Line, and have been coming to the Philippines since August, 1982. I was so impressed with the country, and with the interesting people I met, some of whom have become very close friends to this day, that I asked for and was granted a year's sabbatical from my teaching job in order to live in the Philippines I arrived here on August 21, 1983, several hours after Ninoy Aquino was shot, and remained here until June of 1984. During that year I visited many parts of the country, from as far north as Laoag to as far south as Zamboanga, and including Palawan. I became deeply immersed in the history and culture of the archipelago, and an avid collector of tribal antiquities from both northern Luzon and Mindanao. In subsequent years I visited the Philippines in 1985, 1987, and 1991, before deciding to move here permanently in 1998. I love this country, but not uncritically, and that is the purpose of this article. First, however, I will say that I would not consider living anywhere else in Asia, no matter how attractive certain aspects of other neighboring countries may be. To begin with, and this is most important, with all its faults, the Philippines is still a democracy, more so than any other nation in Southeast Asia . Despite gross corruption, the legal system generally works, and if ever confronted with having to employ it, I would feel much more safe trusting the courts here than in any other place in the surrounding countries. The press here is unquestionably the most unfettered and freewheeling in Asia , and I do not believe that is hyperbole in any way! And if any one thing can be used as a yardstick to measure the extent of the democratic process in any given country in the world, it is the extent to which the press is free. Nevertheless, the Philippines is a flawed democracy, and the flaws are deeply rooted in the Philippine psyche. I will elaborate. The basic problem seems to me, after many years of observation, to be national inferiority complex, a disturbing lack of pride in being Filipino. Toward the end of April I spent eight days in Vietnam , visiting Hanoi , Hue, and Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC). I am certainly no expert on Vietnam , but what I saw could not be denied : I saw a country ravaged as no other country has been in this century by thirty years of continuous and incredibly barbaric warfare. When the Vietnam War ended in April, 1975, the country was totally devastated. Yet in the past 25 years the nation has healed and rebuilt itself almost miraculously! The countryside has been replanted and reforested. Hanoi and HCMC have been beautifully restored. The opera house in Hanoi is a splendid restoration of the original, modeled after the Opera in Paris, and the gorgeous Second Empire Theatre, on the main square of HCMC is as it was when built by the French a century ago. The streets are tree-lined, clean, and conducive for strolling. Cafes in the French style proliferate on the wide boulevards of HCMC. I am not praising the government of Vietnam, which still has a long way to travel on the road to democracy, but I do praise, and praise unstintingly, the pride of the Vietnamese people. It is due to this pride in being Vietnamese that has enabled its citizenry to undertake the mi racle of restoration that I describe above.When I returned to Manila, I became so depressed that I was actually physically ill for days thereafter. Why? Well, let's go back to a period when the Philippines resembled the Vietnam of 1975. It was 1945, the end of World War II, and Manila, as well as many other cities, lay in ruins. As a matter of fact, it may not be generally known , but Manila was the second most destroyed city in the entire war; only Warsaw was more demolished. But to compare Manila in 1970, twenty five years after the end of the war, with HCMC, 25 years after the end of its war, is a sad exercise indeed. Far from restoring the city to its former glory, by 1970 Manila was well on its way to being the most tawdry city in Southeast Asia. And since that time the situation has deteriorated alarmingly. We have a city full of street people, beggars, and squatters. We have a city that floods sections whenever there is a rainstorm, and that loses electricity with every clap of thunder. We have a city full of potholes, and on these unrepaired roads we have traffic situation second to none in the the world for sheer unmanageability. We have rude drivers, taxis that routinely refuse to take passengers because of "many traffic!" The roads are also cursed with pollution spewing buses in disreputable states of repair, and that ultimate anachronism, the jeepney! We have an educational system that allows children to attend schools without desks or books to accommodate them. Teachers, even college professors, are paid salaries so disgracefully low that it's a wonder that anyone would want to go into the teaching profession in the first place. We have a war in Mindanao that nobody seems to have a clue how to settle. The only policy to deal with the war seems to be to react to what happens daily, with no long range plan whatever. I could go on and on, but it is an endeavor so filled with futility that it hurts me to go on. It hurts me because, in spite of everything, I love the Philippines Maybe it will sound simplistic, but to go back to what I said above, it is my unshakable belief that the fundamental thing wrong with this country is a lack of pride in being Filipino.A friend once remarked to me, laconically : "All Filipinos want to be something else. The poor ones want to be American, and the rich ones all want to be Spaniards. Nobody wants to be Filipino." That statement would appear to be a rather simplistic one, and perhaps it is. However, I know one Filipino who refuses to enter a theater until the national anthem has stopped being played because he doesn't want to honor his own country, and I know another one who thinks that history stopped dead in 1898 when the Spaniards departed. While it is certainly true that these represent extreme examples of national denial, the truth is not a pretty picture. Filipinos tend to worship, almost slavishly, everything foreign. If it comes from Italy or France it has to be better than anything made here. If the idea is American or German it has to be superior to anything that Filipinos can think up for themselves. Foreigners are looked up to and idolized. Foreig ners can go anywhere without question. In my own personal experience, I remember attending recently an affair at a major museum here. I had forgotten to bring my invitation. But while Filipinos entering the museum were checked for invitations, I was simply waived through. This sort of thing happens so often here that it's just accepted as routine. All of these things, the illogical respect given to foreigners simply because they are not Filipinos, the distrust and even disrespect shown to any homegrown merchandise, the neglect of anything Philippine, the rudeness of taxi drivers, the ill manners shown by many Filipinos are all symptomatic of a lack of self love, of respect for and love of the country in which they were born, and worst of all, a static mind-set in regard to finding ways to improve the situation. Most Filipinos, when confronted with evidence of governmental corruption, political chicanery, or gross exploitation on the part of the business community, simply shrug their shoulders, mutter "bahala na," and let it go at that. It is an oversimplification to say this, but it is not without a grain of truth to say that Filipinos feel downtrodden because they allow themselves to feel downtrodden. No pride.One of the most egregious examples of this lack of pride, this uncaring attitude to their own past, is the wretched state of surviving architectural landmarks in Manila and elsewhere. During the American period, many beautiful and imposing buildings were built, in what we now call the "art deco" style (although incidentally, that was not contemporary term; it was coined only in the 1960s). These were beautiful edifices, mostly erected during, or just before, the Commonwealth period. Three, which are still standing, are the Jai Alai Building, the Metropolitan Theater, and the Rizal Stadium. Fortunately, due to the truly noble efforts of my friend John Silva, the Jai Alai Building will now be saved. But unless something is done to the most beautiful and original of these three masterpieces of pre-war Philippine architecture, the Metropolitan Theater, it will disintegrate. The Rizal Stadium is in equally wretched shape. When the wreckers' ball destroyed Frank Lloyd Wright's Imperial Hotel in Tokyo, and New York City's most magnificent building, Pennsylvania Station, both in 1963, Ada Louise Huxtable, then the architectural critic of
The New York Times, wrote: "A disposable culture loses the right to call itself a civilization at all !" How right she was! (Fortunately, the destruction of Pennsylvania Station proved to the sacrificial catalyst that resulted in the creation of New York's Landmark Commission. Would there be such a commission created for Manila ... ?) Are there historical reasons for this lack of national pride ? We can say that until the arrival of the Spaniards there was no sense of a unified archipelago constituted as one country. True. We can also say that the high cultures of the nations in the region seemed, unfortunately, to have bypassed the Philippines ; there are no Angkors, no Ayuttayas, no Borodudurs. True. Centuries of contact with the high cultur es of the Khmers and the Chinese, had, except for the proliferation of Song dynasty pottery found throughout the archipelago, no noticeable effect. True. But all that aside, what was here ? To begin with, the ancient rice terraces, now threatened with disintegration, incidentally, was an incredible feat of engineering for so-called "primitive" people. As a matter of fact, when I first saw them in 1984, I was almost as awe-stricken was I was when I first laid eyes on the astonishing Inca city of Machu Picchu , high in the Peruvian Andes. The degree of artistry exhibited by the various tribes of the Cordillera of Luzon is testimony to a rema rkable culture, second to none in the Southeast Asian region. As for Mindanao, at the other end of the archipelago, an equally high degree of artistry has been manifest for centuries in woodcarving, weaving and metalwork. However, the most shocking aspect of this lack of national pride, even identity, endemic in the average Filipino, is the appalling ignorance of the history of the archipelago since unified by Spain and named Filipinas. The remarkable stories concerning the courageous repulsion of Dutch and British invaders from the 16th through the 18th centuries, even the origins of the Independence of the late 19th century, are hardly known by the average Filipino in any meaningful way. And thanks to fifty years of American brainwashing, it is few and far between the number of Filipinos who really know -- or even care -- about the duplicity employed by the Americans and Spaniards to sell out and make meaningless the very independent state that Aguilnaldo declared on June 12, 1898. A people without a sense of history is a people doomed to be unaware of their own identity. It is sad to say, but true, that the vast majority of Filipinos fall into this category. Without a sense of who you are how can you possibly take any pride in who you are? These are not oversimplifications . On the contrary, these are the root problems of the Philippine inferiority complex referred to above. Until the Filipinos take pride in being Filipino these ills of the soul will never be cured. If what I have written here can help, even in the smallest way, to make the Filipino aware of just who he is, who he was, and who he can be, I will be one happy expat indeed !

August 2, 2008

Filter

Rumor has it that Tom Cruise is shooting a sequel to his 1986 hit TOP GUN. So what is it this time? Maverick trading insults with Iceman inside a convalescent home when they suddenly get called into action because the younger aces aren't as brilliant as they are? I can just see it: Some hotshot new pilot dependent on too much gadgets and high-tech methods will get to see how it's done the “analog way” by real pilots who only had his instincts, dogfighting skills, and cunning "back in the day" to get him out of tight situations. Wait a few more years and you'll see in the later Matrix movies on how a somewhat resurrected Neo schools new chosen ones on how to fight the Version 1.0 way. Indiana Jones wasn't bad, though.

July 21, 2008

The Dark Knight

The thing about Christopher Nolan’s Batman is that it doesn’t resort to cheap gimmicks and the obligatory cuteness factor general audiences relish with glee (see: Tobey Maguire doing his Saturday Night Fever impression in Spiderman 3) with the intent to make the character more palatable to the masses. Compared to the, say, more popular Iron Man movie a few months back, The Dark Knight is uncompromising in its tone as its main protagonist is in his own moral stance against overwhelming forces that aims to subjugate him to their will. 

As artistic and visionary as it is for its genre, it won’t become too popular. Make no mistake: it is the masterpiece critics say it to be. With complex characters and excellent story and performances (I take back my initial dislike on Heath Ledger’s casting---the guy is THE JOKER), the movie is tailor-made for reference books that filmmaking students a hundred years from now will be studying. And the film was often compared to excellent crime epics like Michael Mann’s HEAT and the crime epic to end all crime epics: Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather 2. Great films, but only to the people who actually watch movies and not the average person looking for an eye candy to kill the time or take his date on a make-out session. 



Not that it’s the average moviegoer’s fault for disliking it. Nor am I insinuating that I’m somewhat better because I see things the snotty critics and the geek-boy comic book aficionados have. I perfectly understand the sentiment of the person I overheard going out the theater blurting out : “BORING.” Or the countless ‘film aficionados’ who dismissed it as too self-indulgent, whatever that means. They were looking for that formulaic BANG and never got it. Anyway I’m not going to expound more on this at the risk of sounding too much like the ‘aficionados’ who amuse me to high heavens. Go watch it, anyway. You’ll probably like it.

Or not.

July 2, 2008

Pink ribbon scars, that never forget

Summer 1993, in dreams…

It's always around April, mid-afternoon, somewhere around 4 or 5. The time of the day when everything's in golden hues and the landscape is colored brown filled with occasional patches of green and the royal blue sky is clear and slowly giving in to dusk’s red light. The streets are filled with young mothers, nannies and little kids, engaged in their own animated games and conversations. Among them is your sister who just started her academic life as a kindergarten student, playing with her friends Mandie and Honey. 


You’re inside the house listening all day to the radio. Enjoying alternative tunes and feeling like a real sophisticated adult for appreciating something that’s supposed to be an ‘alternative’ to the ‘stupid’ posturing of pop, not knowing it’s the same movement perpetuated by the very same entities who gave you the pop music you abhor with passion. 


You wander outside and go west towards the direction of the huge water tank, and the breeze is cool and dusty and smells of dried grass, hay, an unknown but familiar sweet-smelling blossom, and the slightest hint of dried cow dung. 


Walking past the Ematas and the Eusebios, you find yourself at the end of the cement road in the middle of a large field that used to have been rice paddies up until the late 80s but are now just barren soil used to grow assorted crops like squash, watermelons and a wide variety of weeds. 


You take a deep breath as you stare at the setting sun just beyond the huge tank looming in the opposite side. 


A sense of tranquility flows over you and a feeling of relief that you survived the first year of high school with just a few bumps and bruises. You go over your game plan for the next school year to show everyone how serious you really are with studying. And you're filled with intense pride at the thought of what you can accomplish in the coming years while in school. 


Until your little sister suddenly yells from afar to break you out of an almost drunken stupor; ordered no doubt by your mother to have you summoned for a little housework. You sigh and use your walking stick to poke a paleolithic-looking creature resting in the crevice of a large cement drainage. It won't budge. 


You glance at the receding rays of the sun one last time and head home.

May 29, 2008

A long time ago...in a geek convention far far away

I consider myself a true Star Wars fan.

Although I'm not a total dweeb who flaunts his geekdom by flooding the house with anything from C-3PO and R2-D2 lunchboxes to those uber-expensive 'realistic' lightsaber toys and whine and moan at what George Lucas did to my beloved series by butchering what was left of it. Nor will you find me in forums arguing with other hardcore fans as to why Jar-Jar Binks's presence in Episode 1 isn't all that putrid; or why Han Solo, and not Boba Fett, is the coolest character to have come out of that universe. I look at it the way I look at other films I admire. Just a movie, and not a blueprint on how to live your own life. I'm constantly amazed at the passion some fans show every time I come across anything on the net that is remotely attached to the series. You'd even read arguments that give an impression that if the two debaters see each other in person, they'll go after each other's throats with extreme prejudice. Fascinating really, considering what they're arguing about to the point of threatening old testament-style wrath to each other is only the figment of one man's imagination. 





A typical scholarly debate on a certain topic:



JediMasterKen: COUNT DOOKU CAN'T BEAT DARTH MAUL EVEN IF HE MASTERED MAKASHI (FORM II) TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE. MAUL HAS MORE EXTENSIVE KNOWLEDGE OF OTHER SITH MARTIAL ARTS LIKE JAR-KAI. NOT TO MENTION HE'S ALSO YOUNGER AND MORE AGGRESSIVE.

Darth Bored: I DISAGREE. MAKASHI REQUIRES INTENSE CONCENTRATION AND FOCUSED ATTUNEMENT TO THE FORCE. NOT TO MENTION HE WAS ALREADY A FORMIDABLE JEDI LIGHTSABER DUELIST BEFORE HE WAS EVEN A SITH LORD. DARTH SIDIOUS DID NOT EVEN BOTHER TO TEACH HIM ADVANCED LIGHTSABER TECHNIQUES BECAUSE HE ALREADY KNEW TYRANUS(DOOKU) WAS ONE OF THE UNIVERSE'S BEST SWORDSMAN. HE WAS SO GOOD HE DIDN'T EVEN NEED TO RELY ON THE FORCE WHEN HE ENGAGED IN LIGHTSABER COMBAT. REMEMBER MAUL LOST TO AN APPRENTICE (OBI-WAN).

I don't think I need to show where this conversation leads to. Arguments like these can be compared to a religious or political debate. It's an argument with no end. Nobody wants to back down. And when all logic, fact, and reason fails, everyone resorts to personal attacks.

But what really amazes me about it is where the hell did these people get that kind of information? Fanficition maybe, but to speak about it like it was as real as describing how the flushing mechanism in the toilet bowl works is a bit unnerving. I'm sure it wasn't discussed in the movie, and I was also pretty sure that Maul could kick Dooku's ass based from what I saw, but upon seeing the other guy's very enlightening exposition, I was impressed. 

Do people like these really take the movie THAT seriously? Although you'd also hear these kind of heated arguments from LOTR or D&D fans, it is not as attention-grabbing because you know the so-called facts they throw at each other were taken from books and novels. What separates Star Wars though, is that it was a movie before some materials of it were adapted in book form (most are children's storybooks and novelization of the series), and that the movies didn't even cover half of what the two geniuses above are arguing about.

I have complaints about the movies myself--especially Lucas's take on pumping a vat full of steroids in the original trilogy (IV-VI) and dubbed them "Special Editions". Not only were the "upgraded" scenes useless, but totally looked artificial and only alienated scores of fans and myself from the original feel and nostalgia of the classics. What made the original movies classics were their imperfection. Other than that, the newer installments were not bad. 

The problem with movies like these is that every fan feels like he can do a better job than the people who created it. Some people felt like they died just because the author/director did not take the film the way they wanted it to go. Take it a little more higher in the obsessive scale and you'd have a person not unlike the Stephen King villain in 'Misery'. It's either that, or the 40-Year Old Virgin.

May 14, 2008

Minus hubris


Everyone wants to be rich. That's a fact. No matter how often you hear people say "money is the root of all evil" or "I'm not interested in money" or the most common "I'm contented with what i have. i can't ask for more."


I'm guilty of the last statement myself. But it really is just rationalizing why i don't want to get up and do something. 

I've just finished Robert Kiyosaki's Rich Dad Poor Dad--the best selling book about "financial intelligence" that's supposedly taken the entire financial world by surprise because of its pragmatic and accurate insights on how rich and poor people differ in their approach when it comes to money. What made the book so engaging was that it had deflated my ego as a member of the wage slaves and crushed all my preconceived notions about how wealthy people's attitudes about money. Direct and oftentimes brutally honest (especially on the despicable money habits people like me are guilty of.), it was nonetheless a delight to read as it does not wander off into the Dale Carnegie-school of sermonizing.

I think the poor and middle class have a deep envy of the wealthy that is of course no one will admit to. So we invent excuses of all types to cover up that deep insecurity of not having enough. Oftentimes it's in the guise of our very own intellectual vanity. Snide remarks are not uncommon, especially when the subjects in question are two contrasting individuals: a highly educated employee versus a high school dropout tycoon.

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