Batanes on my mind

Let me put that in a list:

·            The rolling hills with the neatly trimmed grass. They’re my favorite backdrop for our Batanes pictures.  These hills treat you to an unobstructed view of the horizon, which appears distinctly concave, like an outline of the earth’s curvature. You then see for your self that the world truly isn’t flat. 

·            The goats and the cows on the slopes and the hills...

I look at them and they're beautiful and serene. A wave of compassion sweeps over me.  And I think this must be how vegans feel, because at that instance I almost decided to become one.  Well, just almost, because I know I couldn't.  I eat meat and I can live with that fact because I somehow believe that though the death of these animals can be painful, it’s not necessarily senseless and brutal.  There's nobility in their death.  I just hope then that when it's their time, they all fall in the hands of a grateful and tender slaughterer.

·            Minimalism as a way of life. In this place, only the views are grand and opulent. Everything else is simple and “just enough”.  And in a world with a penchant for sickening excesses, Batanes is a refreshing escape.  Whether this counterculture is driven by circumstance or freely embraced as a philosophy is beside the point. 

The fact is these people have always managed to get by on just enough, sometimes probably even on barely enough. From where I stand, it doesn’t look pitiful at all. Perhaps because you can sense that the people don't really need as much, and so enough is truly enough. For someone with complicated needs, that is an appealing, if not a liberating notion.

·            The cozy neighborhoods of Basco.  The narrow but paved and clean streets, right-sized houses (there’s only so much living space one needs), outdoor plants, the mom and pops, stand-alone produce and meat stalls, fresh catch sold in the street corners, neighbors catching up, bikes instead of noisy trikes… it’s almost my ideal neighborhood.  It’s not fancy by anyone’s standard but it feels warm and cozy, and dignified. But if this same neighborhood were transplanted to Manila, it would feel so achingly different with the city’s oppressive stench, noise, and disorder.  

 

·            Chavayan, Sabtang,  the community that shows how living in context and grace looks like up-close:  The Dwell-worthy vernacular houses make perfect sense. People know and look out for one another.  Services and labor are the main currency.  Things are not typically bought but handcrafted or harvested.  It’s a wholesome communal living that feels organic, and not a bit contrived. I think it’s charming (up to a point).

 

·            The (famed) Honesty of the people.  You sense It when you walk in the streets and see the occasional unmanned stores, wide open doors partly covered with flowing curtains (which  is more for aesthetics than privacy), and the grill-less windows.  

            It stares you in the face when you walk into the Honesty Cafe  which makes you wonder if this concept of a shop would work elsewhere in the country (I truly doubt that). 

          And then you spot It when you talk to the masseuse who say that they crave for Jollibee too but won’t give up their peace, quiet and fresh air for a chicken joy; to the young tour guide who prefers to have the plastic chocolate box over the Ferrero inside; to another local who says that life in the islands is hard work but never hopeless.  

         ·     And so there’s dignity. I like that best in a people.

There are still a few more things I love about Batanes but for now this list is enough.

Batanes is really beautiful. And a part of me hopes that it stays the same, because so much about it is rare and precious. But I worry what the booming tourism and cable TV (showcasing the lure of modern living) can do to its soul. I worry that it will make them feel, wrongly, utterly lacking. I hope it won’t but instead that it will reveal to them what treasures they have and the great possibilities those treasures could bring.

And then there’s a (bigger) part of me that hopes for some things to change, for Batanes to still evolve and turn into the BEST VERSION of itself, worthy of the world’s admiration and emulation. One only has to look to the Nordic and could see how even the seemingly least conducive and harsh lands (topography and climate-wise) can be an envy of everyone for its quality of life.

Batanes can be that.  That is the possibility I see.

for my tired and beaten country

A new heart

A new hope

A new direction

A new journey

A destiny fulfilled

Amazing

location: Palawan

Reviving Hope

"To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries" – Aldous Huxley, English Writer

And I about mine.

oOo

Our trip to Puerto Princesa could not have been timelier.

It was just 3 days after the hostage crisis, and we were falling into a nationwide depression. It was a shameful, pathetic event that left me wondering seriously why we’re so good at messing up, and for the entire world to see at that.

What is wrong with us? Why can’t we take off? I am a masochist who begs for answers to these questions even before the tragedy struck. But when Aug 23 happened, I just thought there was no point asking. It just is.

If this country is in a free fall, I can simply go down with it or leave it. I’m going down with it. No more thinking, no more questions, no more struggles, no more big dreams. Go with the flow. It’s easier. Ganito talaga tayo. Mahirap nang baguhin. Puede, pero matagal. Pero hindi na ako mashadong mangangarap.

And then, Puerto Princesa beckoned

I caught a part of myself wanting to hold on to Hope, even if I was ready for disappointment. Somehow, a part of me was still hoping to catch a glimpse of redemption for my country in this beautiful, enchanting place. I was hoping that perhaps its beaches, rivers and mountains would blow my mind away and convince me this is, still, a beautiful country, one that I can be proud of.

I was not disappointed.

Puerto Princesa is indeed an enchanting, even spiritual, place. One should not miss the tours down the Underground River, Sabang Mangroves and the Iwahig River for the fireflies. Down there, nothing else seems to matter. We don’t matter. Governments, people and news come and go, but the mangrove trees continue to grow and the rivers simply flow. Life goes on in spite of people and events.

But it was not about the beaches and rivers and all its untouched natural beauty that gave me hope again.

I realized I’m actually tired of that cliché, the one that says we will discover how beautiful our country is if only we get to see its powder white sand beaches, coral reefs and the ever smiling faces.

I’m tired of that because I realized that was kind of an elitist view. Because if that is so, not all Filipinos will be given a chance to see the natural beauty of this country. Because then, only those with the means to travel or the lucky few who live in the country’s select beautiful places can experience the beauty of this country. And that’s always been our tragedy. There’s always been a huge divide.

I was not disappointed in Puerto Princesa because there I realized that its beauty lies not in its tourist attractions but in its very soul: its people.

Puerto Princesa shines because its people still has the courage, the determination, the heart to FIGHT:

against degradation
against short-term thinking
against consumerism and materialism
for the next generation
for the community
for self-respect
for dignity

There’s no blatant haggling for tip, no appeal for pity, no beggars on the street, no unsightly garbage, no shopping complexes. It’s a city bent on staying true and sticking to what matters in life.

I asked to find a glimpse of redemption for our country in Puerto Princesa and I found inspiring possibilities.

There’s always hope, if you know where to look.

Pinoy Inception

What do you feel when you think about where this country is headed? Hope? Excitement? Despair? Resignation? It can be a mixture of these things or mostly the unpleasant ones. With the bottomless national scandals, tasteless police reports, and basically just bad news sensationalized for maximum effect served to us 24/7, it shouldn’t be surprising that some of us have long ago forfeited our right to dream for this country.

And even when we do dream, my guess is these dreams are usually just the reverse or the negation of our problems, like:

“Sana wala ng mahirap” “Sana wala ng kurakot”; “Sana di na kailangang umalis ng bansa para makahanap ng trabaho” “Sana gumanda ganda naman ang mga lansangan” “Sana wala ng batang kalye” “Sana magresign na si ______(whoever’s in malacañang)

What’s wrong with that?

Well, I think they’re not powerful enough dreams. They’re just basically rants disguised as dreams. And so they still perpetuate that negativity we’re all so addicted to.

Now I’m not saying that dissecting and articulating our national malaise is pointless and futile. No. We need introspection. But we shouldn’t do it for its own sake. Our introspection should lead us to a shared dream.

The Koreans were united in their dream to outdo the Japanese, in everything, even in their kimchi. The Chinese were united in their dream to never be humiliated as a country and as a people again. The Malaysians share the dream to never be left far behind by their neighbor Singapore whose plea for integration they once rejected.

How about us? What’s our unifying dream and battle cry as a people? The operative word there is unifying. Our shared burden shouldn’t just be about our dislike and discontent for the government, under whosever regime. Such a burden is neither unifying (there will always be a pro- and anti-administration), nor compelling (we may succeed in overturning an administration or kicking out a president, but what’s next? Kick out the next one? more like a waste of energy, if you ask me).

How then are we going to discover that shared dream and burden, that battle cry that moves us as a people? What will it take to make us get our act together and finally re-create the Philippines that we can all be proud of?

I don't know. But I hope it will not take us more years of humiliation and more undignified lives.

I hope it’s soon, because I’m afraid I’m starting to ask what’s the point.