RhonaCanoy
SO... Major disclaimer before anything else: All thoughts expressed in this article are musings and meanderings of my disturbed (according to Cong) mind. I have no basis for them other than my own convoluted thought process.
As soon as I realized that conformity was a concept I could not grasp, my life then became dedicated to asking existential questions and and testing the boundaries as determined by society. To the point that for the first 50 years of my life, mama called it my “passion for perversity”. I can’t say it made my life easy, but it certainly made it entertaining. So here are some things I’ve realized... so far.
Historically, the Filipino people has been under oppression for more than 450 years. Starting from the Spaniards, to the Americans, to the Japanese. I’ll get to who I believe is oppressing us at present in another column. Let’s just go back to the thought that for hundreds of years, we have been dominated (and not so nicely, I might add) by a series of foreign invaders who have sadly left their mark on our psyche.
We have been treated as lesser beings. Under the Spanish, we came to believe in our inferiority. We had no voice, were treated as slaves or lowly workers, and the few of us who made it to the other side preferred to think of themselves more as Spanish mutations. Certainly a distinction was made between lowly Indios and the better-off mestizos, neither Spanish nor Filipinos, a class unto themselves. Those who were socially superior Filipinos treated their common brothers and sisters in the same way as the Spaniards treated them. Thus was born the great social divide which exists even today.
When the Americans came, it was no different. Although a different set of semantics were used, we still were savages who needed saving. We needed to be educated, hence the Thomasites and the Jesuits. We needed to be trained to be independent (not so successfully, I might add). By demigods of the same lighter skin pigment, but coming from a different region of heaven. I think this fascination with lighter-skinned superior beings has turned into quite a lucrative proposition for the likes of Vicky Belo, bleaching creams and lotions, and purveyors of glutathion. And dimmit, we still buy into this hallucination.
Through the decades and centuries, although with much resentment, Filipinos accepted this demeaning treatment and eventually I think it seeped into our consciousness and our subconscious where it has successfully filtered the way we see ourselves. Why do I say this?
Take a drive through our countryside, or through the more crowded urban areas. We pass it every day, but I doubt that anyone other than my disturbed self has noticed. There seems to be a desperate need for Filipinos to be recognized, affirmed, acknowledged. Here’s my proof. Sari-sari stores (some with signs bigger than the actual store, signs conveniently provided by some product maker) and other small businesses mostly bear someone’s name or family name. A desperate claim to ownership and recognition. Up and down the archipelago, Neneng’s Store, Ramos Store, Boyet’sVideoke, Santos Vulcanizing. And the list goes on. Even graffiti on the wall does not proclaim some passionate political ideology or protest (those are usually painted on rice sacks and hung like ubiquitous laundry in front of the provincial capitol or city hall)—Boyax was here, Jeprox, Tangski—and the list goes on. On a side note, the propensity to add an -ax or a -ski to these names is still something I’m pondering. I’ll get back to you on that one.
So what does this say to me? We are a country of people in desperate need of being recognized, of seeking affirmation and value, things we were deprived of for far too long. It seems to have become hard-wired in our brains, this need to shout out who we are, for others to pay attention to our existence. To say that we mean something, are worth something.
And then, once in a great while, there are those signs which give me hope. Hope that our sense of humor will prevail and save us from this dark hole. Hope that we are at last moving on. Kini Roger’s Fried Chicken, Lavandera Blue DiliDili, FarmaciaWith Love, Twinkle Twinkle Little Store. One day I must stop and talk with the people whose minds seem to be as skewed as mine. And like I said, it gives me hope.
Don’t worry. I’m nowhere near done yet. Abanganangsusunodnakabanata.
