“There goes my hero, he’s ordinary ” goes a line from one my
favorite songs by the Foo Fighters.
I have always identified with this song for
various reasons, but mostly because it reminds me of my everyday heroes - my
late Lolo Marsing (who I fondly call Tatay) who has been an OFW all his life,
he worked in Saudi to support his family, my Dad, who continues to take
pictures of strangers for a living, my Mom
who has worked a 9-5 job since she was 20 while taking care of her
family and doing all the house chores, my Lola (who I fondly call Mama) who
remained strong and loyal throughout the years, married to an OFW and
single-handedly raised her kids and grandkids - each of them and every
hardworking Pinoy I’ve met in Dubai struggling to send money back home - they are
my heroes. They inspire me to show up at work every day, to work hard and be
nice.
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| Tatay worked as a Foreman for construction company in Saudi Arabia in 1980s. He had worked as an OFW for over 2 decades. |
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| Tatay on the field with another filipino co-worker. He was always generous and friendly towards them. Their wives would come to visit my grandma often and share stories. |
We celebrated National Heroes day recently amidst the
brouhaha of the 10 Billion Peso Scam by Janet Napoles and our corrupt
lawmakers. I hated them. I hated how the upper class, the elite, the ones in
power continues to manipulate us like the Indios of Rizal’s time. But then I
can’t help but think that maybe it is also our fault, the Middle Class, the
Illustrado, the educated pinoy, the ones who know but can’t be bothered because
we’re too busy taking selfies, or looking out for shopping bargains, working in
our offices, watching out for low fares to Boracay, waiting for the next
Superman installment, just maybe, we the so-called Illustrados, are in effect,
to blame.
They say that Hate is
not the opposite of Love, Apathy is. I am waking up to this realization that by
being silent, by being apathetic, I have contributed to the damage. It is time
we Illustrados rise up and fight for our rights and the rights of those who do
not have a voice.
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| Tatay at their accomodation. Living in Dubai now, I can relate. |
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| Another day at work in the hot field. |
The Rise of the Middle Class
The recent Million People March that snowballed from social
media to a full blown protest/picnic at the Rizal Park is a good indication of a
middle class that is finally finding its voice. Thanks to Facebook, Twitter,
Instagram, Youtube and most of all, the blogsites that became a venue for
Anonymous writers to freely reveal what they know. Detailed accounts of the
nasty modus operandi of this long-standing organized mafia linked to some
powerful people in government surfaced to the public via comments on a blog,
free to share with no other agenda but to bring out the truth.
Support came in from working class Filipinos from all sectors
and from all over the world who felt the injustice of toiling everyday only to find
out that their hard-earned tax-payers money is being squandered carelessly at
Beverly Hills by some spoiled little rich girl who, perhaps unaware of their
unexplained wealth, had the gall to post everything online. Her shiny Louboutins
and their Disneyland mansions plastered all over social media made the case
increasingly harder for us to ignore. These visuals triggered the ire of the
otherwise indifferent middle class who finally found something to fight for.
When I was younger, I refused to participate in discussions involving
religion and politics thinking that these things are better left to the
“adults.” I was resigned to corruption
in the Philippines the same way I was resigned to my Catholic upbringing. Both
were something I was born into and were too late to change. Besides, I had
other things I’d much rather worry about, like “bakit hindi ako crush ng crush
ko?”
It was only when I came to Dubai, when I lived with our
kabayans and met many other different nationalities that I started to open my
eyes to the realities of being a Christian and being a Filipino. I learned how
it is not easy being a Pinoy in the Middle East and how coming from a third-world
country limits my opportunities despite my merits. I saw first-hand how the
lack of jobs in the Philippines has led many to leave their families behind and
how corruption in the Philippine government continues to take advantage of our
OFWs.
On the other hand, I also witnessed first-hand the kindness
of strangers, especially of kabayans, how their simple “malasakit” have changed
countless lives and steered them for the better. I was reacquainted with the
phrase “love thy neighbor as you love thyself” in a concrete setting. I learned that faith, more than anything
else, is an action word, and if I wanted anything to change I needed to get
involve. Cliché as it may seem, the change I wanted to see really had to begin
with me.
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| Tatay on a rare occassion of attending my grade school graduation, with my Mom and Mama (grandma) . I did my best to make them proud, that gold medal was priceless to them. |
It’s all in the mind
A revolution, a real revolution, the kind that inspires real
change, all of them begins in the mind.
In most Pinoy gatherings
(and we have a lot of these with a lot of pork dishes too), I hear talk
about corruption, all of us pinoys hate our government, but only a few really
believe that Philippines can be saved. I
cannot blame them. Hundreds of years had passed since our national hero, Rizal
wrote his epic Noli me Tangere, yet it remains relevant today, reflecting the
same ills that our society is suffering from since the 1800s. Nothing much has
changed.
The 10 Billion Peso Pork Barrel scam and its catastrophic
implications are no less than disheartening. I can understand the sentiments of
most of my collegues when they say “wala naman mangyayari” or “ganyan naman
lagi”.
Perhaps it is so, but the little spark in me won’t die
because I know for a fact (and I can swear on my Lolo’s grave) that heroes, real heroes, are just ordinary
men and women doing extraordinary things.
If only we can change our way of thinking, if only we start
to believe in our own capabilities. There is no better time for us, the
Illustrados, to wake up and inspire the change we want to see by sticking to
our ideals and sharing what we know. Today, with social media as our connecting
thread, one click can go a long way. It
is time to finally make use of our expensive smartphones and education degrees
that are parents worked hard to provide.
It is time for us to actively participate in our country’s future
as we all share a common destiny. It is about time we stop wasting our
potential. Be a hero minus the dorky cape.
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| Tatay's final resting place. He has lived and died a hero and he will stay in our hearts forever. |
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