I’m a ‘why’ person. As a reporter, my favorite type of questions are the ‘Why’ ones. I would often reserve them to the last, after we’ve gone through the boring facts and figures, details and data, like a dessert after the appetizer and main course. My mentors would often lightly reprimand me that the lead of my news articles are usually long and feature-like; it’s because the ‘Why’ answers are always emphasized in the lead than the popular ‘What’, ‘Who’, ‘When’,and ‘Where’
My other favorite question is ‘How’ if I’m really interested with the subject but let’s talk about that some other time.
Why did you launch this project?
Why did you choose this age group as your target audience?
Why did you say that the youth today is the hope of the future?
Why are you so concerned with this cause?
I like to call ‘why’ questions as questions that allow the readers to focus more on the person than the subject, the ‘who’ than the ‘what’. ‘Why’s’ are personal; they allow you to solve one person’s motives, dreams, fears, history and other interesting tidbits (if you’re a gossip like me, kidding!).
It doesn’t work on God, however.
When I became a Christian, I’ve developed more questions than answers. Like with most people I know, they would usually ask ‘Lord, what is your plan in my life?’ or things like ‘Lord, where will you lead me?’ No I’m not that. I like to get deep and personal. After all, my newfound relationship with Christ granted me the Grace of that freedom. No sir, I wouldn’t settle for just answers in front of me. I’ll be demanding explanations.
My impatience and inherent independence usually bring me in conflict with God’s plan and mine. When things simply aren’t going my way, when I’m sick and frustrated over my own failures and stubbornness to listen to Him, I would demand the ‘Why’ right away. Why me? Why are you making me suffer? Why are you silent?
Why would you let this happen to me?
Why are you letting the innocent suffer?
Why must this person die?
Why are you letting bad things happen to your people?
And as you may have guessed, I received no reply. I thought, ‘I might as well be talking to a wall’
Asking ‘Why’ to God is a habit I have to give up, and mind you, it’s one of those hardest things I have to give up during my early days as a Christian. Still, I overcome it. It’s not because I got tired of asking Him questions. Usually, He would give the answers in the right time. It’s also not because I’ve stopped asking the ‘Why’ questions.
It’s because I’ve been asking them the wrong way all this time. I’ve forgotten the basic rule of journalism that the key for your answers lies on even the slightest revisions of your questions.
Instead of ‘Why are You like this to me?’, I began asking questions like:
‘Why am I like this?’
‘Why am I doubting Him?’
‘Why am I so afraid?’
‘Why am I losing faith now?’
And there, just like that, God would me give the answers. Yeah, I know. It took me ages to realize that.
This is WHY I’ve stopped asking Him why. Because in His grand scheme of things, let’s just face it, the answers to our Why questions are pointless. Instead, giving up our human nature to know ‘Why’ is the ultimate act of submission because you have no say in the matter anymore. It is your own leap of faith. It is defying logic and our own nature to fear the unknown. I’ve learned that the best testimonies of faith come from people who stopped asking ‘Why’.
When I was little and my parents used to bring me and my brothers to those pool trips, my dad would often ask me to ride the water slide. I have no idea where the slide would lead to but still, I didn’t hesitate to jump and slide all the way down, trusting with all my heart that my dad would be waiting at the bottom,with his arms outstretched to catch me so I wouldn’t drown. No questions asked. I knew that my father would be there waiting for me.
And this made me realize that asking too much questions can delay the fun or the wonderful promises He has planned for you. Being a ‘Why’ person has its perks, but when it comes to asking God, those ‘Why’s’ have to go.
To our dear policemen who died for their service for the country and the people
Who died to subdue a dangerous man whose explosives may have, one day, burn villages and kill hundreds
Who died fighting an enemy that shouldn’t be.
You have come from different parts of the country, from North to the South
You may have spoken different native languages, raised from different families
You are sons, brothers, fiances, husbands and fathers to those you left behind
But you have fought as one, as valiant sons for our the motherland
You are heroes, in the truest sense of the word
You may never see our tears, our grief, our outrage and demands for justice
We may never know what you lived for
But we will never forget what you died for.
To our fallen 44,
Who lay dying in the fields under the dawning sky
We, the nation promises,
that your brutal, unnecessary sacrifice will be honored,
Rest in peace, our brothers.
For after your battle has ended,
ours will continue.
And we will never stop
We will never rest in peace
Until we bring justice
On your grave
On 25 January 2015, three platoons of the elite SAF police squad ventured into the guerrilla enclave of Tukanalipao,Mindanao, Philippines, with the goal of detaining high-ranking, Jemaah Islamiyah-affiliated, improvised-explosive-device experts Zulkifli Abdhir and Basit Usman. The SAF troops were then ambushed by a group of the Moro Islamic liberation Front militants, suffering heavy casualties. Running out of ammunition, a dozen of surviving policemen attempted to withdraw. At the same time, rebels belonging to BIFF gathered from nearby villages, immediately engaging the retreating law enforcement agents. The militants overpowered the remaining policemen, later killing the wounded and firing multiple bullets into the corpses of the slain. A total of 44 SAF officers were killed, while rebel casualties amounted to at least 5 killed and 10 wounded. According to a government source, one of the bomb makers was already arrested when the ambush took place; his whereabouts is currently unknown. A MILF spokesman accused the SAF squads of initiating the firefight, claiming that the rebels acted in self-defense, and proposed the continuation of the peace process. The Philippine government and MILF are currently under a peace agreement for the upcoming creation of Bangsamoro or an Islamic State in Mindanao. After the incident, many of the citizens are having second thoughts if the Bangsamoro state should come into fruition in the hands of these militants. Related links: http://www.interaksyon.com/article/103776/govt-deeply-saddened-by-pnp-saf-milf-clash-in-maguindanao http://www.rappler.com/nation/81883-pnp-saf-maguindanao-terrorists
I am a person raised by books. To say it inflicted tremendous positive effects in my overall growth as an individual is an understatement. Reading opens your mind and broadens your understanding of the world and people in general. However, you cannot base your whole worldview on books alone. We have something we call life to learn lots from.
One of those misconceptions of human emotions I got from books and films is that ‘Love just happens naturally’. That love is a mysterious force that drives two people together. That some sort of inevitable ‘hand of fate’ is at play. That resisting love is futile and hopeless. That you are destined to fall in love with someone and there’s nothing you can do about it.
From the beginning, even before I experienced falling in love, love presents an interesting concept for me. What drives us to love someone? Is love just a concoction of pheromones and brain chemicals and we are completely under control of its effect in our body? More importantly, can we control who we are going to fall in love with?
An article from the New York Times piqued my interest one boring afternoon. It is: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/01/11/fashion/modern-love-to-fall-in-love-with-anyone-do-this.html?_r=0. It is a clinical approach of falling in love with someone and teaching your body, brain chemicals, etc. to feel something for a person. It then concludes that: Love didn’t happen to us. We’re in love because we each made the choice to be.
The article may be a subject for more open-ended arguments, case-to-case situations of people falling in love without the brain knowing about it, or reminding that this doesn’t speak out for everyone. Well, it did to me. I’ve been haggling myself why I can’t establish a romantic relationship with anyone, and why the mysterious force hasn’t been at work in my life.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve fallen in love quite a few times in my life. Some are unrequited, some are promising but have to be cut off for plenty of myriad reasons, some have no chance of working out at all. And all those experiences, I thought I’ve never been truly in love. Because in books, it’s either the hero or the heroine loses his/her mind over a love interest and that, it doesn’t make sense. I’ve never lost my mind over someone. In fact, I knew exactly why I like him. I made the choice and decision to be more than just friends, not because I couldn’t help it.
To look at love in a clinical point of view can be boring. I mean, where’s that mysterious force that binds us together for all eternity? Well, it set the record straight. We can be in control of our emotions. There is a big chance we can fall in love with someone if we willed it. If we get our hearts broken, we all have the guts to move on and look for someone more worthy of our affections. I guess what they say is true. The more you mature in love, the less exciting it gets. But hey, it all depends on perspective. It’s your choice what to believe and what to live. ‘Love happens’ or ‘you let love happen’, it’s a matter of enjoying love as it is.
It raises one point though. If we fall in love by choice, we also fall out of love by choice. It eventually completes a perfect circle.
A hotel promo and a sudden whim to go out of the Metro for the weekend brought us to the province up the north – a historic little province called Bataan. My bestfriend seemed to understand my fetish for old houses and structures, historic churches and historical markers so one day, she surprised me that she already booked a hotel room for the two of us in a price we can both afford at a hotel in Balanga.We got more than we bargained for, because the hotel sits literally at the center of the Plaza Mayor, sandwiched between the grand City Hall and an even grander-looking Robinson Mall at one side.
I’ve known Bataan from history books as a site of the infamous Death March during the World War II, when the Imperial Japanese forces overwhelmed the last stand at Corregidor and made the prisoners of war march to their death from Bataan to prison camps spread across Luzon. Thousands of Americans and Filipino soldiers either died out of exhaustion, dehydration, torture or the desire to escape (they were shot on the spot). Even today, markers are spread on the street and main highways, commemorating the ordeal that marked the dark age of Japanese rule over the archipelago.
Our first destination after we reached the hotel is the St. Joseph Cathedral or the Balanga Cathedral. Just a few seconds walk from our hotel, we already reached the doors of the church. Since it’s Sunday, we are lucky that there aren’t any holy masses and we are free to roam around and inside the church. I quickly took notice of the historical marker placed on the side of the wall, meaning the Balanga Cathedral is one of the country’s national cultural treasures. I’ve been around churches for so long now, not entirely out of religious reasons (I consider myself a Protestant ), but because of my love for history and anything old. Catholic churches are the town’s cultural crown jewel – you can trace a place’s history through the consecration of the churches. As I keep saying, if you want a glimpse of a town’s history, visit their churches.
Next stop, we went to the Dambana ng Kagitingan at Mt. Samat. It is a giant memorial cross placed on top of the mountain which commemorates the heroism and courage of joint Filipino-American soldiers as they stood their ground to the waves of Japanese attack during World War II.
You can either walk on foot or take a tricycle going to the top. A tricycle ride is strongly advisable for city bums like me (travelling on foot would take you an hour and a half). On the other hand, a tricycle ride would cost you Php100.00 per head, one-way only, and you’d get to the shrine after 30 minutes.
Tourists can go up as high as to the left and right side of the cross through an elevator which costs around PHP10.00 per head. At the top awaits a magnificent view of the whole Bataan peninsula and the rugged mountain range of neighboring provinces. You can also catch a glimpse of the top of Mt. Mariveles, a dormant volcano beside Mt. Samat that nearly covers all Bataan.
It is an amazing feeling to behold the 90-ft cross standing proud and mighty against the elements. Yet its sheer size and grandiose is nothing but a humble, simple gift for our heroes who fought for our motherland even when the odds are against them. Visiting here made me realize how important it is to be reminded by their sacrifices to protect the liberty they valiantly fought for. Times may have changed now and our former enemies are now our strongest allies, but forgiveness doesn’t have to equate to forgetting. It’s no different than spitting on the graves of our heroes.
For dinner, we ventured to the Balanga Night Market where we got to taste one of the tastiest, juiciest sisig and grilled squid ever. For just Php135.00, we are served with two meals plus two rice. I’m not sure if the Night Market is for Christmas time only, but if you’re looking for an affordable meal, it doesn’t hurt to inquire about it to the locals.
The locals in Bataan are also the friendliest and most helpful people I’ve encountered. They are always quick to help you out and offer you points of interest. Some of the people we met didn’t take advantage of our apparent clueless-ness of the place and offered the best price for the services, like the tricycle driver in Mt. Samat.
The next day, we traveled to the West Nuk Beach at Morong, Rizal, at the farthest point of Bataan, to check out the mothballed Bataan Nuclear Power Plant. I’ve always wanted to have a tour inside the first and only nuclear plant of the country. It is now called the White Elephant of the Philippines, as useless as any non-functional power plants can go, and the government is spending millions of pesos just to maintain the facilities. Now, it is a tourist sight and people can walk inside the power plant with a tour guide.
Unfortunately, the staff is having their Christmas Party when we arrived. That means no tours for us :( The only silver lining we got after taking the grueling trip from Balanga to Morong (Php55.00 each for the hour and a half ride) is that we got to frolic on the calm waves of West Nuk Beach. We didn’t stay long though because we have to catch the check-out time of our hotel.
We bought some Araro Cookies with cashew nuts for pasalubong at the Robinson’s Mall in a rush. Tinapa is Bataan’s own specialty too. The Gabi Ice Cream is also a well-loved specialty and you can try it at Orani, a town before Balanga.
All in all, I think I only spent Php1,000.00 for the activities and the fares for our 2-day stay. Excluding the hotel stay, of course. I would highly recommend staying in a less luxurious place, or in a house of a friend or a relative. Of course, you have to take note that the tour fare in Bataan Nuclear Power Plant is not counted in my breakdown of expenses, though it is recommended to have the tour with a group so you can share the package fee.
* Bus Fare (Cubao-Balanga) P200.00
* Jeep (Balanga-Diwa) – P17.00
* Tricycle (Diwa -Mt. Samat) – P100.00
* Entrance Fee – P20.00
* Elevator Fee – P10.00
* Tricycle (Mt. Samat-Diwa) – P100.00
* Jeep (Diwa-Balanga) – P17.00
* Mini-bus (Balanga-Bataan Nuclear Power Plant) – P65.00
* Bataan Nuclear Power Plant Entrance Fee – P20.00
* Entrance at West Nuk – P120.00
* Picnic Table – P60.00 (P30.00 each)
* Mini-bus (BNPP-Balanga) – 65.00
* Bus (Balanga-Manila) – P200.00
So all in all, Bataan is one of the most affordable out-of-town trips I’ve had. If you’re a fan of history or you just wanted to venture out of the Metro and visit a nearby province to relax, Bataan should be on top of your weekend getaways.
Last 2012, I was part of the media entourage who went to Las Casas Acuzar in Bagac, Bataan. It is a man-made park filled with heritage houses uprooted from different parts of the country; houses that are decaying in their original location. They are henceforth transferred in Bagac for recreational viewing and preservation. You can check out my article here.
When I first came to Davao, I had a limited time to explore the city on my own and visit the places I’ve always wanted to check out. One of them is the Philippine Eagle Center, the home for the country’s national and majestic bird, the Philippine Eagle. It is one of the largest eagles in the world, endemic to the Philippines. But due to deforestation and human activities, their numbers dwindled out, making them one of the most critically endangered creatures in the world.
I had a strange fascination with the Philippine Eagle for some time. Its appearance, to say the humblest, exudes pride and nobility in every way. It can grow to 3.35 ft (1 meter) and has a wingspan of 6-7 ft. Its talons are large and menacing enough to claw through the meat of a full-grown monkey (it is also called the Monkey-eating Eagle). When it is angered or it wants to emphasize its territory, its shaggy mane draws up like those in a lion’s. Its brown feathers camouflaged the color of the people, and the fact that it’s only found nowhere else in the world except here further qualifies it a national symbol.
So that’s why when I returned to Davao, I promised to myself that I have to go here, even if it means having to go by myself if I have to. I’m staying in a missionary’s house in Toril, near the SM City Davao, and I only have to take one ride going to Calinan. Davao transportation is slowly transforming like that in Manila; shuttle and van services are beginning to dominate the road going to far-away areas. In my case, I took a van which costs around Php 40.00. I asked the driver to drop me to the “Philippine Eagle” since I’m new in the city and he actually did! Now, I don’t know if drivers in Manila are just being trolls or quite forgetful; either reason you can’t rely on their promise that they will drop you off in your destination.
After dropping off to Calinan, a busy town center, motorcycles and pedicabs are already waiting there for visitors to go to the Eagle Center. I agreed to settle the fare to Php 20.00. Anyway, it is a 5-kilometer ride away from the marketplace, and we have to pass difficult, dusty road to get to the Center.
The Eagle Center has a small crowd of visitors during that overcast, slightly drizzly afternoon. Before entering PEC, a guard will charge you a Php10.00 entrance for adults (Php5.00 for kids) in the entrance. The fee is just for the entrance to the Davao City Water District, a small park of sorts where you can have picnics and enjoy some of the park’s kiosks.
The entrance fee for kids and adults are different in PEC. Adults like me (18 years old and above sigh) has to pay Php100.00 for the tour of the whole area, while kids or youth (18 years below) can buy their entrance fee for Php50.00. Of course, proceeds will go to the conservation and breeding of the eagles of the Philippine Eagle Foundation. I think it’s just a small amount you can shed compared to the large difference the Foundation is trying to make.
The International Union for the Conservation of Nature currently estimates the number of Philippine Eagle to be just around 180-500, making them one of the most critically endangered animals in the world. Killing or poaching an Eagle is a criminal offence in Philippine law but they are mostly captured for zoos. Deforestation, mining, exposure to pesticides that affect breeding, and human activities are the major contribution to its nearing extinction.
I think one of those factors for its dwindling numbers is its complex reproduction. Philippine Eagles are inherently monogamous – they seek just one partner for life (see, even in the animal kingdom, the faithful ones are dwindling), and they only breed 1-2 eggs for every two years. They won’t breed again until their baby is old enough to take care of itself. It also takes years for an eagle to sexually mature, and sadly, only few survive to breed in the jungle.
The park is small and you can easily navigate around for just 2-3 hours. Aside from eagles, you can see rare species of birds that can be found not just in the Philippines but also in Southeast Asia and India. If you’re still not tired of seeing crocodiles being interviewed on news, you can check out the Estuarine Crocodile at one point in the park. There is also a wide variety of waling-waling (Queen of the Philippine Flower) in the area you take a picture of! The park mostly features endemic creatures in the Philippines, like the Silvery Kingfisher, Pinsker’s Hawk Eagle, Philippine Brown Deer, Giant Scorps Owl and the Philippine Warty Pig.
But one can’t deny the main attraction is this badass over here: Pag-Asa (Filipino word for Hope). He is the first eagle bred in captivity back in 1992 (we are practically the same age!) and now, he finally had his first chick hatched (Mabuhay) last year! Mabuhay is also bred in artificial insemination, a long, tedious process facilitated by the eagle keepers and biologists in the foundation. Still, I am hoping that the day will arrive that Eagles wouldn’t find it hard to breed in the wild, without human intervention whatsoever.
Upon leaving the park, I bought some souvenirs from the Foundation. There are stalls outside the park selling the same items but I wanted to show my support to the preservation through my own little way. The items are a bit more expensive, but like I said, it’s a small price to pay for the survival of these eagles.
The Philippine Eagle is more than just an attraction or a national symbol – it’s an advocacy. After the tour in the park, I made it a lifelong plan to dedicate myself in contributing for the preservation of these wonderful creatures. I can organizations like the Haribon Foundation or raise awareness about the importance of preserving their habitat. More importantly, I’ll make it a mission to advocate the Philippine Eagle as more than icon, but a testament of how everything about the Philippines isn’t hopeless at all. Our country may be facing quite a number of difficulties right now- from natural disasters to government incompetence, lack of education and poverty in rural areas- but just like the Philippine Eagle, we can have that chance to rise again. Everything may be quite helpless and bleak now, but always, let us remember there is Pag-asa.
The Philippine Eagle Foundation is a private, non-stock, non-profit organization dedicated to saving the endangered Philippine Eagle (Pithecophaga jefferyi) and its rainforest habitat. Organized in 1987, it had before that time been operating as a project undertaking research, rehabilitation, and captive breeding. Staffed by highly trained and dedicated personnel, it has today evolved into the country’s premiere organization for the conservation of raptors. For more information, visit this website: http://www.philippineeagle.org/foundation/
HELP SAVE THE PHILIPPINE EAGLE AND OTHER PHILIPPINE WILDLIFE!
Sometimes I question myself why I write. Do I write for fun? Or for the hell of it? Or that I just have to do it because I’m lofty enough to regard myself as such. Sometimes, I have selfish reasons. I want myself to be heard and the people to listen to me. Sometimes, I convince myself through empty words and platitudes. Writing, in itself, is ego-inflating.
When I write, I throw away the conscious part of me, the insecure, ugly side that’s clings into my skin like a thick aroma of weakness and falsehood. Sometimes, I never write at all, content with my thoughts and ideas left unheard, unspoken, betraying the craft with just a shake of a head and thinking that it’s not worth of a word.
Words come easily to me when I write. I prefer email than voicemail. I like texting more than calling. I can have a personal conversation face-to-face with a friend and think about more comforting words to say when I face a blank paper. I would have enjoyed the time when people write letters for each other, never mind the inconvenience of late response and distance. Words that travel a great distance are priceless.
Sometimes, I’m envious of those writers who knew what words to say to express themselves. Sometimes, I even think that I write just to prove that I can write as well as they are. Sometimes, I write to prove to myself that I can write as well as I think I do.
Sometimes, I write to release the stress and exhaustion after a long, hard day, un-poetic day. Sometimes, the thing that causes so much stress and exhaustion is writing itself.
I often question myself why I write, but I’m finally realizing it doesn’t matter at all. More than an art or a craft or a science or a hobby, writing is an unpardonable vice of my life; a constant part of my existence. To deny it is to deny living. Whenever I am plagued by the question of why I write, or the urge to write, I try to think of a scenario where I cannot write anymore.
And that is something I cannot imagine living without.
I’ll start this off with a confession. Philippine history never really interested me as a kid. I dreaded the moment our Sibika at Kultura teacher would arrive in the room and make us memorize the name of the governor-general who governed the country, or the year the Andres Bonifacio created the Katipunan, or countless vague information we will only forget after the long tests and recitations.
I only became a student of my own country in college, when my fervor and determination to serve the nation is in its highest. My friends and I never had an organized body of thinkers and doers, or a slogan, or a single-minded advocacy for that matter; we’re just a group of college kids who talked about politics and the society inside a jam-packed jeep or bus, trains, bars, fastfoods or anywhere in public space, as long as there’s someone nearby who can hear us. We believe that by just these simple things, we are unconsciously making them think, even for just a passing moment. We are subtle propagandists. We believe people should think beyond the date when Rizal was executed, or how many islands does the Philippines have.
Discussion of the Philippine history back in my elementary days is always filled with questions of ‘Who’. ‘What’, ‘When’ and ‘Where’. Apparently, dealing with the ‘How’ and ‘Why’ to Filipino gradeschoolers is too much for us to handle and we are quite unprepared for the critical thinking these questions entail.
One of those great ‘How’ questions I like to ask myself (and my friends) is: How we became a nation? How did a group of 7, 107 islands came to be known as the Philippines of today?
AN ARCHIPELAGO OF KINGDOMS
Way before the Spanish empire claimed the Philippines as its own, the archipelago is already thriving with several kingdoms, clans, nomadic tribes, sultanates and confederation of barangays. Each region, each province, has its own form of government, independent against the neighboring tribe. The island form of Luzon is comprised with several kingdoms or tribes warring against each other. The Rajahnate of Cebu was in a constant rivalry with the tiny island tribe of Mactan. The Kingdom of Butuan has its own flourishing golden empire. The Sultanate of Sulu was at the height of its power, recognized by its neighbors as a fearsome kingdom of Tausugs. It is, as they say, an each of its own.
For practical purposes, Spain rounded up the whole archipelago and called it a country. It was a forced unity, rooted for political and geographical reasons instead of racial homogeneity. True we are part of the Austronesian race, but Spain tore any form of cultural ties between our Malay brethren, introducing Western religion and culture similar to that of Latin America. For all intents and purposes, the Filipino ‘race’ is only formed throughout the Spanish colonization. It is noted that even the revolutionary sentiments are divided throughout the archipelago, with most people in the Visayas of the Central Philippines more loyal to the Spanish crown than the Tagalogs in Luzon.
American resistance is greater in Visayas and Mindanao than in Luzon. Let us not forget the Moro War between the Americans.
THE ISSUE OF THE NATIONAL LANGUAGE
One of the ground-breaking reforms enacted during the Philippine Commonwealth is the declaration for the country’s national language, Filipino. It is a language heavily based in Tagalog, a language extensively spoken in Manila and other parts of Luzon but not so much in Visayas and Mindanao. According to the National Language Institute, Tagalog was chosen based on the following factors:
1. Tagalog is widely spoken and understood in all Philippine regions
2. Unlike Visayan and Bicolano, it is not divided into smaller daughter languages
3. Its literary history and legacy is the 2nd richest of all Philippine languages next to Spanish, just like Tuscan which became the basis for Italian language.
4. The prehispanic language of Manila, Philippines’ economic and political center, is Tagalog.
5. Spanish may be the preferred language of Filipino intellectualists and reformists, but Tagalog is the medium of language of the revolutionaries especially those from Katipunan.
As someone who grew up in Metro Manila all her life, I didn’t have to learn or use a different language deviating from my native tongue in school. It felt natural that Filipinos would embrace Tagalog as their own. Now that I’ve learned so many things and traveled to various parts of the Philippines, I realized the issue of a common language became the source of frustration for most of our brothers and sisters outside Luzon, especially those Filipinos in the South. I couldn’t blame them, most of them wanted to preserve their own language and culture. The only form of resistance they see is to stubbornly insist on using their own language, or a foreign language (Spanish or English), for official and business matters.
Adding fat to the fire is the strict implementation that no other Philippine language should be used in official or national functions. Singing the Philippine anthem in another language apart from Filipino is a crime altogether on its own.
The issue of the national language isn’t the root of most discontent; rather it’s the effect. What is significantly lacking in our national identity is the origin of a common language, one that Spanish and American imperialists managed to solve by ‘uniting’ us under Spanish and English. That reinforces the belief that technically and semantically, our history as a Filipino people only began during colonization. Colonization, for better or for worse, formed the Filipino identity we know now, and one we keep on misunderstanding, unfortunately.
It felt funny realizing this just now, because during my history lessons in highschool and elementary, Spanish colonizers are often depicted as evil oppressors and/or villains who are in our way of achieving the desired freedom. Even Rizal understood the dynamics and complexities of gaining independence as a nation. That’s why his primary advocacy is to make the Philippines a province of Spain, not to uproot the nation from the empire. But then again, Philippine independence from Spain is an inevitable twist of history, an inescapable fate whose effects are still being felt until the 21st century.
I made it obvious in this blog that I’m a firm advocate of federalism. We can’t keep on insisting that we have a ‘united’ ‘collective’ perspective as a nation; that we have the same sentiments and opinion on the history that formed our nation.
We are ‘united’ for political reasons; it makes sense that if there’s one thing which will ultimately unite us, it’s a political reform.
Federalism may not outright eliminate the problems that are deeply-rooted in our society (e.g corruption, political dynasty, etc.) but one thing it gives is the accountability for each and every Filipino to decide who can govern them.
Let each region be accountable over its own people. Just like the good old times, don’t you think?
Violent reactions are very welcome. Just post your comments below. A healthy discourse is never bad :)