Anyway, I received an email today and I just thought of sharing it to you guys. For those who’ve been working away from home, I know we all get to be asked the age old question of “so what’s Philippines like?”. If we are asked with this query, lets tell the truth. The truth that our country might not be at par with that of US or Europe or some highly progressive Asian countries. The truth that it may fail in comparison to the economy of the country where we are working. But let’s not also forget the truth that the people in our country can stand head to head with that of any race. People who’ve been through hell and back, but still managed to find something to be grateful for, to laugh about, at the end of the day. Brown skinned hardworking Pedro blended with a passion towards things, people and places that are dear to him.
If you are also based away from home, let’s not forget that we carry the image of Pilipinas wherever our feet would lead us.
Enjoy reading this piece from Paolo Mangahas published in Inquirer early this year.
Between Poverty and Paradise
By Paolo P. Mangahas
Inquirer
KUALA LUMPUR, MALAYSIA- Last night, I had dinner with my German friend
to talk about her planned trip to the Philippines. She had just
completed an internship program in one of the law firms here in
Malaysia and wanted to take a short holiday in a nearby country before
heading off to Australia to finish her studies. She wanted to know
more about the Philippines and asked me for tips on making the most of
the two-and-a-half weeks that she had allotted for this vacation.
We planned her trip between bites, armed only with a faded map of the
Philippines that we downloaded from the Internet. My goal was to
identify all the “must-see” places (her criteria: beaches and
volcanoes), plot them according to distance and flight routes then
cram them all in 17 days.
A tall order indeed, especially for someone like me who’s never had a
sense of direction even in my own neighborhood. For the life of me, I
could not spot where Boracay was on her map. So I took the easy way
out and told her to go to Palawan instead.
I carried on with the task like a diligent student trying to remember
my geography, starting from the rice terraces in Banaue up north,
moving down south to the Mayon Volcano in Bicol and the Chocolate
Hills in Bohol. It was an embarrassing ordeal nonetheless as she could
see that I was struggling to find all the other attractive
destinations on the map, which in turn made me realize how little I
truly knew about my own country.
She was very excited about the trip, eager to learn more about the
country and its people. She imagined the Philippines to be an eternal
fiesta of Spanish and Chinese Third-World flair, filled with warm and
accommodating people who all speak with a clear American accent, where
all men have the handsome earthy appeal of Jericho Rosales and women
the heavenly mestiza charms of Kristine Hermosa (thanks to Filipino
soap operas that have become so popular here in Malaysia).
It was certainly one of the most honest cultural impressions I’ve ever
heard, and quite amusingly, one shared by many. In my German friend’s
opinion, the Philippines is one of the most open-minded countries in
Southeast Asia. I found this view rather interesting, especially since
it came from a European who’s never stepped foot in the Philippines
and whose only direct exposure to the country was me.
The funny thing about cultural impressions is that they often come
from a place of both acute perception and blatant ignorance, split in
the middle by what is painfully true. But they are what they
are—impressions.
Quite naturally, my friend and I have come to build our own
impressions about Malaysia in the several months we’ve been here.
Malaysia is a beautiful country that seems to be in a hurry to develop
economically, but is hampered by a palpable trace of social
reluctance. It seems grounded on an age-old culture that simply does
not mix well with progress, or at least the kind dictated and
exemplified by the Western world. I find this true for most developing
Asian countries, including the Philippines.
My friend pointed out that she’s never seen a beggar in the streets of
Kuala Lumpur since she moved here and asked me if it’s the same in the
Philippines. As a matter of fact, she admitted that she’s never seen a
beggar up close in her whole life and asked me to explain how it is to
live in a poor country. She wanted to know more about poverty.
Her question struck a chord in me because I realized that apart from
Jericho Rosales, this woman had absolutely no idea about the country
she was going to and how it was out there. Here was someone who came
to me wanting to know more about my country and the best I could offer
was a geographical representation of scenic destinations, which I
hardly even knew myself.
By this time I had put down the pen I was holding, set aside the map,
and got ready to explain details about my country. I didn’t know where
to begin. How does one explain poverty to someone who’s never
experienced it before?
To make things more relevant to her, I started by comparing the
Philippines to Malaysia. I told her that blue-collar workers in the
Philippines did not have the same opportunities as the ones in
Malaysia, who can afford to eat in the same restaurants as executives
or even shop in stores where their bosses shop. I told her that unlike
the ones I have met in Malaysia, secretaries and administrative clerks
in the Philippines eat in posh restaurants only on very special
occasions and can barely afford to travel to other countries.
I then told her about the beggars, young and old, who parade in the
streets of Manila, the children who knock on car windows selling
sampaguita, the mothers who have to forage for food in garbage
landfills, and the unemployed fathers who waste their lives on drugs
and alcohol. I told her about the shanties that bedeck highways and
railroads, the unproductive traffic jams, the garbage-infested streets
and sewers, and the regular typhoons that flood the country and
exacerbate already poor living conditions.
I told her that poverty in the Philippines hits you in the face
unapologetically the very moment you step in. It’s an open wound
waiting to be healed.
My friend looked shaken, as if experiencing for the first time a world
she has seen only on TV. That was when my tears started to fall. I
could not help it. I have never cried in front of a semi-stranger
before but for some reason, I cried this time because she was still
not immune to these things. Her unawareness taught me to see poverty
as if for the first time myself – bringing a lot of pain. I’ve become
so used to the pain that I’ve forgotten how it felt until I painted
the sad face of poverty for her.
I then found myself having to explain to her that despite all these,
the Philippines is still a beautiful country and this you also feel
the very moment you get there. It’s a beauty characterized by the
indomitable human spirit of a people who have seen better days and yet
still have the capacity to find a piece of heaven in their lives. It’s
beauty defined by the untiring faith of a people who have learned to
acknowledge their plight with reverence and yet have never lost the
courage to dream big dreams. It’s a beauty characterized by the
painful history of a people who have been abused and pillaged through
years, yet still have so much of themselves to give.
Now her tears were falling, smearing the map I had earlier vandalized
with circles and arrows. I knew it did not matter this point. I
realized that my friend had learned all she needed to know about my
country and my people. She thanked me profusely, saying that she came
to me wanting to know more about how poor the Philippines is but in
the end, she learned how abundantly blessed Filipinos truly are.
A beach is a beach and a volcano is a volcano anywhere in the world,
but it’s the people who make the difference. I learned in that moment
that I may not know the geographical features of my country all too
well, but I sure know its heart and its soul because it’s who I am.
The real poverty lies in not knowing this.
<— this one all of us can enjoy and be grateful for. (Special shoutout to a dear friend, 
