E·N·Q·U·I·R·Y
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL
DEMAREE J.B. RAVAL
Back home, again
Sunday, 10 01, 2006
This past week I had been tempted to send an e-mail message to friends in the Philippines, which would have read something like this: “…….I am teaching Afghans the ways of democratic government. But I wish I were there, urging Filipinos to democratize our own government.”
I think I have stayed away long enough from the country, that the lethal symptoms of nostalgia have begun to seize me. So there I was in Afghanistan — a stranger in a strange land, trying to help its citizens cure themselves of the wounds of division, yet longing for the time when I would be back to the mean streets of Manila so that, in my own small way, I could contribute to the cure of what is ailing the country.
So I am back home, again. I utter that with an ambivalent albeit momentary sense of relief and dejection as the plane that took me from that post-conflict country crept out of the clouds and made a shrieking descent to Manila. I always get this eerie feeling that, yes, I am returning to a country I would love very much to move forward, just like this or that country I have been to.
Being away, however brief, makes me treasure all the more what I am returning to, however offensive the garbage may smell in the alleys, however shitty the self-serving proclamations of government may smell over the airwaves. My country, the Philippines: Love it or leave it.
Comparisons, I know, would scarcely make me feel any better. They would only make me despondent, as miserable as the rest of the Filipinos out there who realize how far behind we are, or how much better the government should lead, or what might have been for the country with Fernando Poe, Jr. as president.
Yet, regrets are idle; the country’s history for the most part is one long saga of regret — from the brief shining moment when we almost drove the Spaniards out of the country, but were outsmarted by the forces of Dewey, down to a recent episode when we rightfully elected a president but were outsmarted by the minions of Garci. Everything might have turned out differently had a sufficient number of other people acted differently.
So we have to bite the bullet, live with what we have, and not expect anything more or better — that is one way of looking at things. Another would be: Spit out the bullet, do away with the wrong leadership, and work your butt off for the country. “A happy median would be to look at things both ways,” as my son Kenneth said philosophically when I attempted yesterday to pick his brain, whether his University of the Philippines (UP) schooling is doing him any better.
Indeed, why ever not, Kenneth?
Live with what you have, and don’t ask for more or anything better. Live in our country, enjoy its natural wonders without equal anywhere. Stand by your family, and exert every effort to make it stronger. Partake of the simple joys of living: take the food without the frills (buko juice beats soda pop anytime); wear the clothes without the superfluities (you’d look ostentatious in an Armani in this climate). Enjoy the sunset at the Luneta. Admire Peter Cayetano and Rolex Suplico for their efforts at bringing out the truth, and don’t look to anyone else. Worship and thank the Creator for the bounties He continues to shower upon us.
Spit out the bullet, do away with the wrong leadership and work your butt off for the country. There are things we do not deserve, and that includes a leadership that does not lead at all. Indeed, do anything and everything to make our country a better place, the government notwithstanding. The constitutional processes are there; follow them. Things come very slowly to one who waits, so go out and do your thing, however harsh the environment may be. Be like Peter and Rolex, who, against all odds, are bucking the power and the glory of those who are making it hard for us to survive and lead decent, honest lives.
But enough of this pontificating — one may always try to interject his cynicism on someone like me who has not had the luxury of being immersed in his country for some time. But then again, one is never away from home in this day and age, where cyberspace makes you ever nearer to anyone however distant you may be from each other. And so it is with any citizen in regard to his own country. One is never out of it, however far he may go. One gets to read about anything that concerns him, or hear everything that another might not want others to hear. He is just a mouse-click away.
So, even as you get a glimpse from the air of the green of the otherwise bald mountain, or the blue of the waters now despoiled by oil slick from a grounded tanker, or get your eyes smoked-out by the filth of the factories below, you always get to believe that there is no place like one’s own country.
Then again, you could try to leave once more — to serve humanity, make a living, or even to find respite in a better place for however brief. All this is only temporary, if in your mind your love of country is there.
Kenneth, these are thoughts that sprang out of our exchange, and nothing else makes me happier than the thought that UP has given you a perspective that makes you look at things differently from what I set out to do 33 years ago, when I, too, was young like you.
It is good to be back to my country, to be close to my family, to Kenneth. And then I will be off again — to seek, to find, but not to yield.
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