A lot of us claim to hate this country, but when something bad is said about anything related to being a Filipino and the Philippines, we rise up in arms. We proclaimed Claire Danes persona non grata for saying that Manila "just f--king smelled of cockroaches."
A dictionary which was reported to have defined a Filipina as a "domestic worker from the Philippines or a person who performs non-essential auxiliary tasks" caused uproar and made huge headlines and patriotically angry editorials.
Teri Hatcher talking against Philippine medical schools in a TV series became the most hated among the Desperate Housewives by Filipinos all over the world. The racist remark was eventually removed from the episode.
James Soriano, that Atenean kid who said Filipino is the language of the street, is now the recepient of online flaks.
And the list of similar situations goes on and on.
On the country, when something good is said, is done to, by, for the Filipinos and the Philippines, we go all agog in taking the credit, basking in the limelight, always saying proud to be Pinoy.
When out of the ring, Manny Pacquiao is bashed: his fashion style, his lifestyle, his gambling, his provincial grammatical-error-laden English, his wife, even his mother, particularly his mother. But when inside the ring, Manny is our king. When he wins, we have the world in our hands; we wear huge smiles on our faces as if we have just been named the world's superpower.
When a Filipino reaches international stardom, we claim the credit as a people. Think of Charice, Arnel Pineda, Maria Aragon, and Jasmin Trias. When an international superstar or celebrity happens to have at least 1/8 Filipino blood, we attribute his/her greatness to his/her Filipino lineage. We are always happy to note that these people are half-Filipinos: Vanessa Hudgens, Bruno Mars, Nicole Schswhateverherlongsurnameis of the defunct Pussycat Dolls, Apl.de.ap of BEP, and Kirk Hammet of Metallica. We are ecstatic that the Head Chef in the White House is a Filipina. We were proud that the governess of Prince William invited to the Royal Wedding is a Filipina. Etcetera. Etcetera.
I don't know if other nations are like us. Is Thailand always tapping its back for having Tiger Woods as half-Thai? Is Indonesia still smug that it has educated the young Barack Obama? What about Kenya?
Honestly, I don't have the answers. What I know only is that as a people, we are quick to defend our nation, but slow to move it forward. We are quick to smell half-bloods, but slow to embrace brown-skinned.
It is a curse and we have yet to find the witch who cast it.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Rap Songs I Love
I can't believe the day will come when I'm going to like rap.
Thanks to Bruno Mars for bringing back the love I lost.
Thanks to Bruno Mars for bringing back the love I lost.
Dear Mr. James Soriano,
Unlike your mother, my mother didn't provide for me a home conducive to learning English. My mother used to buy me "komiks" that carried local legendary stories like "Ang Alamat ng Mayon," "Ang Alamat ng Kasoy," among others. My first book is the ABAKADA. You know, the one that has a boy with his body parts labeled in Filipino? Oh, well, I'm sure you're not familiar with that. You grew up in an English Only home zone.
My mother used to be a huge fan of radio dramas aired daily over DZRH. I grew up listening to these dramas with her.
At age 4, I, with my family, moved to Laguna from Manila where I was born. In Laguna, I became friends with kids with weird Tagalog accents and unique local color expressions. These things didn't bother me because I had a perfect life as a child. My friends and I climbed huge mango trees that actually bore mangoes that ripened to perfection. And climb up the tree we would as far as no old folks could see and we would eat mangoes while we sat on branches. We also had a field day climbing camachile trees and ate the fruits, tree to mouth. It was great playing "Jane."
During palay planting season, we would join the farmers in the muddy fields. The kinder ones even allowed us to do some planting. We would even catch "palakang bukid" for lunch.
During harvest season, we would sit and watch the farmers separate the palay from the stalks and smell the heavenly sent of nature. The first gold we've seen, and the largest in the world was the mountain of palay during the season.
And the haystacks! These were left to us to make anything out of. We jumped and rolled and kicked and laughed until our lungs burst.
We rode rickety carts pulled by carabaos, not buffalos which you might have read about in your English books. There were cows for the milking and goats for the same. We watched men hunt and kill snakes coiled around bamboo trees. Twice we saw a crocodile butchered and cooked and eaten. I remember being given a bite of caldereta crocodile. I don't remember having accepted and eaten it, though.
Joy was our lingua franca. It was not written in books that some could only read about. We had experiences in vivid colors, tangible and real.
What about yours?
Oh, what to do with people like you, Malu Fernandez and Mideo Cruz?
My mother used to be a huge fan of radio dramas aired daily over DZRH. I grew up listening to these dramas with her.
At age 4, I, with my family, moved to Laguna from Manila where I was born. In Laguna, I became friends with kids with weird Tagalog accents and unique local color expressions. These things didn't bother me because I had a perfect life as a child. My friends and I climbed huge mango trees that actually bore mangoes that ripened to perfection. And climb up the tree we would as far as no old folks could see and we would eat mangoes while we sat on branches. We also had a field day climbing camachile trees and ate the fruits, tree to mouth. It was great playing "Jane."
During palay planting season, we would join the farmers in the muddy fields. The kinder ones even allowed us to do some planting. We would even catch "palakang bukid" for lunch.
During harvest season, we would sit and watch the farmers separate the palay from the stalks and smell the heavenly sent of nature. The first gold we've seen, and the largest in the world was the mountain of palay during the season.
And the haystacks! These were left to us to make anything out of. We jumped and rolled and kicked and laughed until our lungs burst.
We rode rickety carts pulled by carabaos, not buffalos which you might have read about in your English books. There were cows for the milking and goats for the same. We watched men hunt and kill snakes coiled around bamboo trees. Twice we saw a crocodile butchered and cooked and eaten. I remember being given a bite of caldereta crocodile. I don't remember having accepted and eaten it, though.
Joy was our lingua franca. It was not written in books that some could only read about. We had experiences in vivid colors, tangible and real.
What about yours?
Oh, what to do with people like you, Malu Fernandez and Mideo Cruz?
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Undo. Unfriend. Unfollow.
Technology makes it look so easy to uncommit mistakes and unmake decisions.
Instead of divorcing a spouse, can we just un-marry? Instead of dropping out of school, can one just un-list or un-enroll? Instead of growing fat and losing weight, can we just un-fat, un-eat and un-sleep?
Instead of quitting, can we just un-smoke, un-drink, un-gamble?
Instead of cursing ourselves for that thoughtless one-night-stand, can we just un-sex?
Unbelievable!
Instead of divorcing a spouse, can we just un-marry? Instead of dropping out of school, can one just un-list or un-enroll? Instead of growing fat and losing weight, can we just un-fat, un-eat and un-sleep?
Instead of quitting, can we just un-smoke, un-drink, un-gamble?
Instead of cursing ourselves for that thoughtless one-night-stand, can we just un-sex?
Unbelievable!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Parisukat Na Yelo
5-year-old Nephew: Chan-chan, hindi na malamig ang ice tea.
3-year-old Nephew: (Touches glass) Tingin. Tingin.
5-year-old Nephew: Kumuha ka ng parisukat na yelo.
Me:(Overhears the exchanges): Ano'ng parisukat na yelo? (After a heartbeat) Ahh! Ice cube.
3-year-old Nephew: Sobrang dami, Tita. Kailangan konti lang. (This after I put all the cubes in the pitcher.)
Where do these kids get their vocabulary?
I don't remember using the word "parisukat" in daily conversation. And at age 5? Is that what they teach in school now? "Parisukat na yelo" instead of ice cubes?
Although, my 3-year-old nephew is not attending school yet, his vocabulary in Filipino will put to shame a lot of old folks. He says "paalam" instead of "goodbye;" "kailangan ko iyan," instead of "gusto ko 'yan."
Most Filipino parents and aunts and uncles are proud if the kids in the house speak English. They have them flaunt it in the mall, in the park, in PUVs, in terminals, wherever.
In our case, we're awed that the kids have a penchant for using the native tongue.
But they can have a really, really sharp tongue. One day from work, I asked my mother for a glass of water, please. And the older nephew butt in, "Tita, Jollibee ba 'to? Bakit humihingi ka ng tubig kay Nanay, pwede naman ikaw ang kumuha?"
OUCH! I swear I could have killed the insolent little devil.
3-year-old Nephew: (Touches glass) Tingin. Tingin.
5-year-old Nephew: Kumuha ka ng parisukat na yelo.
Me:(Overhears the exchanges): Ano'ng parisukat na yelo? (After a heartbeat) Ahh! Ice cube.
3-year-old Nephew: Sobrang dami, Tita. Kailangan konti lang. (This after I put all the cubes in the pitcher.)
Where do these kids get their vocabulary?
I don't remember using the word "parisukat" in daily conversation. And at age 5? Is that what they teach in school now? "Parisukat na yelo" instead of ice cubes?
Although, my 3-year-old nephew is not attending school yet, his vocabulary in Filipino will put to shame a lot of old folks. He says "paalam" instead of "goodbye;" "kailangan ko iyan," instead of "gusto ko 'yan."
Most Filipino parents and aunts and uncles are proud if the kids in the house speak English. They have them flaunt it in the mall, in the park, in PUVs, in terminals, wherever.
In our case, we're awed that the kids have a penchant for using the native tongue.
But they can have a really, really sharp tongue. One day from work, I asked my mother for a glass of water, please. And the older nephew butt in, "Tita, Jollibee ba 'to? Bakit humihingi ka ng tubig kay Nanay, pwede naman ikaw ang kumuha?"
OUCH! I swear I could have killed the insolent little devil.
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