The trip was fabulous and I’ll tell you more about it next week, but for now the gist is more about what I thought about the ride back home.
People tell you that when one loses their phone, it’s like losing an arm.
I’ve lost phones countless times – once I left it on the sink with water pouring from the faucet. I deserve such punishment, I guess. Of course now, if you consider yourself upwardly mobile, you’ll know better and log on to phoneagent.com and back up your directory. Plus, resist taking sleazy videos or photos. Then losing a phone won’t be that much of a pain. But it really does keep you in the dark, which can be both pleasant and disconcerting.
Anyway, I was out of the loop in carb land, and I must say that it was a thrill to be away from it all. Gossipmonger that I am, I reveled in the great "me" time where my only concern was what to eat next. The ride back home shook whatever ignorant trance I was in.
I was away for only five days and, like Encino man, what I read in The Philippine Star on the flight back home left me quaking in my Birks (yes, they are so cool again, without socks, though, please). A chunk of the cabinet left en masse. The cardinals are keeping the salivating militants reined in with a statement of gentle admonishment. Presidential conspirators – the powers that would be – reminded me of Caesar before he got chucked in the Senate. Unless you’re Gloria and Co., the whole thing reads like a drama. What will happen next? Each day is treated like a cliffhanger. And this got me thinking.
I’m very self-involved. A shame since my family lives and breathes politics and worries about the state of the nation more than what will happen to couture now that it seems to be dead except for the super-rich Russians who look odd wearing it. I know some are itching for another EDSA or Superhighway revolt. It’s so Pinoy to get so revolutionary over the most inappropriate things (think of the nation divided regarding Nora A’s alleged crack habit), and when seats of such importance are cheapened by text brigades, respect gets lost even for the most venerable figure in the country. And as one knows, for even a ditz like me, lost respect is a bit of death. Think of what happened to Milli Vanilli when they were revealed as frauds. I could not listen to Blame it on the Rain without feeling a bit of ire, no matter that it was one of the anthems of my carefree youth.
Anyway, it’s all a mess and every pundit and, conversely, idiot (like me) may have our own little tidbit on what to think of this whole delilah. Anyway, commoners such as you and I have to think of something more than just doing another text revolt or EDSA something. And I must say, if you think you’re being revolutionary by stomping tantrums on the street, you’re so three years ago, like hating Birks.
We wee people must see what we can do as citizens of this country that we love but pretend to hate. Instead of treating ANC hearings like they were episodes of Memories of Bali, why not try a different exercise instead?
I was looking at the metropolitan skyline of Vietnam which, mind you, was way, way, way in the boonies 20 years ago and now has seemingly surpassed our glamorous Manila. I still think people here are cuter, though. Communism is still an ugly world. What’s life without porn and tabloids to seethe at?
But the iron hand seems to do some good, to a certain extent. I guess most of us need a spank on the tush.
There’s talk of a parliamentary form of government as an option, but at this point we need more than just switching schools. I understand Martial Law has left many shuddering at the words "totalitarian," "authority," "dictator" and my personal favorite, "curfew," yet we all take our civil liberties for granted. So much for granted that it’s easy to lose sight of the responsibilities that come with democracy – the right to have a say on how to rule your country and the lives of other people. I was explaining to my friend John – who grew up in the United States and who was a bit confused about the whole thing since he just came here to go to Boracay and meet some chicks – the quandary of creating a more stringent system of government. How can you coax a rape victim to make love again? How do you make an abused child trust someone again? Martial law left everyone scarred and closed to the idea of any kind of authoritative rule. Now, I’m no commie sympathizer here – God knows how I’d be the first one to hate wearing the same outfit as everyone else – and have a curfew (I did all that in high school).
I guess my point is that while all of this is happening, our duty is not to choose sides. Rather, it’s keeping our eye on the ball and resting our actions on what will be good for the country, and keep the peso from shrinking like a raisin in the foreign market. To accept discipline and take our liberties as responsibilities and not as doled-out rights. Ana Marie Pamintuan, executive editor of The Philippine Star, raised a good point on last Monday’s opinion page: "The CBCP scolded not just the President but practically everyone else for bringing the nation to its current sorry state. Perhaps the scolding and the call to resolve this crisis the long hard way rather than through yet another quick fix will knock some sense into the power-hungry or the plain naive."
She adds, "We will just have to do it the bishop’s way – through a lot of hard work in establishing the truth, punishing the guilty all around, implementing radical reforms, upholding justice and the rule of law. There will still be instability, but at least our weak institutions will be strengthened in the process."
I mean, think about it. If the anti-smoking law was able to make bratty Makati socialites smoke their Cartier and YSL puffers out in the rain, to the chagrin of their Guccis and Pradas, then the rest of the better half of the country are capable of even greater things like shutting up, listening and thinking.
To be proactive and not reactive. Miracles do happen but it won’t likely happen in the streets. Leaders are there to guide, but it’s up to the rest of us to survive this crisis.