Between Poverty and
Paolo Mangahas
LAST night, I had dinner with a German friend to talk about her
planned trip to the
program in one of the law firms here in
short holiday in a nearby country before heading off to
finish her studies. She wanted to know more about the
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
identify all the "must-see" places in the country (her criteria being
beaches and volcanoes), plot them according to distance and flight
routes, and then cram them all in 17 days. A tall order indeed,
especially for someone like me who has 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
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
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
and was eager to learn more about the country and its people.
She imagined the
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
most honest cultural impressions that I have ever heard and quite
amusingly, one shared by many. In my German friend's opinion, the
I found this view rather interesting, especially since it came from a
European who has never stepped foot in the
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
here.
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
My friend pointed out that she has never seen a beggar in the streets
of
the
seen a beggar up close in her whole life and asked me to explain how it
is to live in a poor country like mine.
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 where she was going 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 to her details about my country. I did not
know where to begin. After all, how does one explain poverty to
someone who has never experienced it before? To make things more
relevant to her, I started by comparing the
told her that blue-collar workers in the
same opportunities as the ones in
the same restaurants where executives eat or even shop in stores where
their own bosses shop. I told her that unlike the ones I have met in
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 the streets of
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
face the very moment you step in. It is an open wound just 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, which brought out a lot of pain. I have become so used to the
pain that I have forgotten how it felt until I painted for her the sad
face of poverty.
I then found myself having to explain to her that despite all these,
the
feel the very moment you get there. It is 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 is
a 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 is a beauty characterized by the
painful history of a people who have been abused and pillaged through
the years and yet still have so much of themselves to give.
Now her tears were falling, smearing the map that I had earlier
vandalized with circles and arrows. But I knew it did not matter
anymore at 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
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 is 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 is who I am.
The real poverty lies in not knowing this.
FALLING IN LOVE
Kent Norburn
It is a mystery why we fall in love.
It is a mystery how it happens.
It is a mystery how it comes.
It is a mystery why some love grows and
it is a mystery why some love fails.
You can analyze this mystery and look for the reasons and causes, but you will never do more than take the life out of the experience. Just as life itself is more than the sum of the bones and muscles and electrical impulses in the body, love is more than the interests and attractions and commonalities that two people share.
And just as life itself is a gift that comes and goes in its own time, so too, the coming of love must be taken as an unfathomable gift that cannot be questioned in its ways.
Sometimes, hopefully at least once in your life - the gift of love will come to you in full flower and you will take hold of it and celebrate it in all its expressive beauty.
This is a dream we all share.
More often it will come and take hold of you,
celebrate you for a brief moment, then moves on.
When this happens to young people they often try to grasp the love and hold it to them, refusing to see that it is a gift that is freely given and a gift that just as freely, moves away.
When they fall out of love, or the person they love feels the spirit of love leaving, they try desperately to reclaim the love that is lost rather than accepting the gift for what it was, then moving on.
They want answers where there are no answers.
They want to know what is wrong in them that makes the other person no longer love them, or try to get their lover to change, thinking that if some small things were different, love would bloom again.
They blame their circumstances and say that if they go far away and start a new life together, their love will grow. They try anything to give meaning to what has happened. But there is no meaning beyond the love itself and until they accept its own mysterious ways, they live in a sea of misery.
You need to know this about love and to accept it.
You need to treat what it brings to you with kindness.
If you find yourself in love with someone who does not love you, be gentle with yourself.
There is nothing wrong with you.
Love just didn't choose to rest in the other person's heart.
If you find someone else in love with you and you don't love him, feel honored that love came and called at your door, but gently refuse the gift that you cannot return.
Do not take advantage, do not cause pain.
How you deal with love is how you deal with you, and all our hearts feel the same pains and joys, even if our lives and ways are different.
If you fall in love with another and he/she falls in love with you, and then love chooses to leave, do not try to reclaim it or to assess blame. Let it go. There is reason and there is meaning. You will know in time.
Remember that you don't choose love, love chooses you.
All you can really do is accept it for all its mystery when it comes to your life. Feel the way it fills you to overflowing, then reach out and give it away. Give it back to the person who brought it alive in you. Give it to others who deem it poor in spirit. Give it to the world around you in any way you can.
This is where many lovers go wrong. Having so long without love, they understand love only as a need. They see their hearts as empty places that will be filled by love, and they begin to look at love as something that flows to them rather than from them. The first blush of new love is filled to overflowing, but as their love cools, they revert to seeing their love as a need.
They forget that the secret of love is that it is a gift, and that it can be made to grow by giving it away. Remember this and keep it to your heart. Love has its own time, seasons and its own reason for coming and going. You cannot bribe it or coerce it, or reason it into staying. You can only embrace it when it arrives and give it away when it comes to you.
But if it chooses to leave from your heart or from the heart of your lover, there is nothing you can do and there is nothing you should do. Love always has been and always will be a mystery. Be glad that it came to live for a moment in your life. If you keep your heart open, it will come again.
