Elenita Pura, 35, is currently mastering the art of multi-tasking. She enjoys juggling her duties as a wife and mother to three children, a frantic housekeeper keeping track of bills and feng shui, while drafting letters, speeches and press releases at work. She finished AB European Languages (major in French) at UP Diliman and works at the Embassy of Japan in Manila. From 1997 to 2000, she worked at the Department of Foreign Affairs-Office of European Affairs.
Sometimes, we just need a good laugh. This was what I thought when my husband picked from the shelves Ang Paboritong Libro ni Hudas by Roberto "Bob" Ong when we were deciding how best to use our National Book Store gift checks. Totally clueless about Ong’s works, I got the impression from the title that it was just one of those compilations of jokes and that its plain black cover was not exactly in good taste. I needed my husband’s reassurance that it was, indeed, a good purchase.
I had to contain my curiosity as the book made my husband smile, laugh, pause and laugh again, whether he was in our living room, bedroom, or even while queuing at a supermarket cashier, reading aloud to me once in while a sentence or two. I finally had my turn – a welcome treat after I tucked to bed my kid and her twin siblings, or during breaks and idle moments at the office.
The pace by which I turned the pages was as fast as I began to appreciate the author’s thoughts. The book elicited not only my smiles and laughter, but also my own reflection on life’s constants and variables, which situations are simply "given" and which ones call for change. After I was done with the book, I immediately got hold of Ong’s two other books, A B N K K B S N P LAko?! and Bakit Baliktad Magbasa ng Libro ang mga Pilipino?
I am not exaggerating when I say that reading Ong’s books was indeed a great experience – and for many reasons. Foremost, I will always remember them for their uniqueness; second, for successfully touching on my sensibilities and the many aspects of my own person, including my being a Filipino; and of course, for being so funny.
Ong must have intentionally made his titles eye-catching and intriguing, for who could have guessed the contents behind such headings, which seemed to goad, get-us-to-the-cashier-and-find-out! In fairness, my rendezvous with them proved their titles and covers could not have been more apt: that plain black book on my shelf reminds me of Dante’s seven deadly sins of men locally applied; A B N K K B S... of the travails and joys of schooling; and the illustrated yellow cover turned upside down, of the peculiarities of Filipinos, the regressing state of Philippine education, and our desire for a more responsive government.
Also, I wonder if there were other books published without the usual "About the Author" stuff. Even entries to this contest require such information, which Ong deliberately omitted in his three books, notwithstanding that they contain practically his experiences and adventures and, if those were not fictitious, he actually shares with his readers a great deal about himself. I am not sure if I lack research skills, but even Google’s finds were no closer to any form of "About Bob Ong."
That these three books come in the vernacular also adds to their rareness. The force by which Ong got his message across to me can be attributed to his excellent use of Filipino: conversational, his language comes very natural, and clean at that (even when he is discussing how to pronounce "shit!" and how some people treat Tagalog curses as punctuations or prefixes). It spared me of the boredom that I usually associate with Filipino that’s either used textbook-style, or the makibaka-style identified with leftist struggles (e.g., ang kamulatan ng mga maralitang tagalungsod...). I actually believe Ong’s rationale that while he dwelt on the frailties of Filipinos, there was no intention to grandstand or humiliate our race before the world, precisely because his works are written in our own language – sa atin-atin lang.
The language also defines the setting of his entire paradigm: I realized that it does not necessarily take an imaginary Hogwarts or a high-tech nuclear research laboratory called CERN to challenge my thinking prowess. Rather, Ong explores the innumerable plots in a setting that has breathed life into my very being: our very own Philippine society.
This brings me to another reason why Ong’s works struck a chord in me. I initially went for them solely for their entertainment value, but they turned out to be great finds that articulated many of my own concerns, regrets, joys, hopes, and dreams, all with Philippine culture and society as the backdrop. Amid spiraling costs of living and seemingly degenerating generations of national leaders, reading Ong gave me a mixed feeling of joy and grief. Joy that I am on the same boat with many ordinary Filipinos braving the tides with great pride from our value-laden past and enduring belief in the future; and grief in realizing that, because of our growing apathy as a nation and continuing I-me-myself thinking, our boat is, at present, sinking.
Having served as a government employee for more than three years, I know that a good percentage of our public servants, especially those doing technical or "dirty jobs," perform their duties with much dedication and effort, more than the public will ever know. I had to leave civil service when I realized that fulfillment alone from drafting talking points, speeches, press releases or memoranda did not give Meralco and hospitals the same patience I exemplified waiting for my meager pay whenever delayed.
I agree with Ong that among the many problems besetting our nation, we need to address the pressing issues of graft and corruption on one hand, and the regressing state of education on the other. It is lamentable that, indeed, gone are the days when we would hail an exemplary child to becoming the president of the Philippines someday, for he will surely be better off becoming an OFW and be surely one of the saviors of our economy. Have we not collectively accepted the big irony of the Filipino life, that we provide the best possible education to our children so that, in time, they could work, or better still be immigrants, abroad? It was not my parents’ purpose for my education, nor mine for my children’s, but as Ong puts it, "Nakakapagod na bang maging Pilipino?" Such questions cannot be more relevant than in these times, when even our government and church leaders’ definitions of "the rule of law" depend on their affiliations, or when we learn of the exorbitant fees (imagine, US$100?!!) POEA charges our countrymen who find jobs overseas by their own resourcefulness (read: direct hires).
This brings me to the ultimate reason why I enjoyed Ong’s books: he narrates his own experiences and his keen observations of the Philippine society in an unparalleled humorous yet humble manner, a sure way to lighten up and keep readers in good spirits until better times come to our nation.
Ong may be the same age as me, gauging from the brands of goods and television shows that he says jologs know (my husband was so amazed at how on earth I would remember Saling of Flor de Luna). Maybe life was much simpler in our childhood days, for how could our way of living seem so institutionalized then, with mothers serving Royco chicken noodle soup to sick children, and in attending school ceremonies, nagpapakulot? I enjoyed Ong’s books because they brought back happy memories of my own childhood.
Why, I never realized until he pointed out that my and my daughter’s first reading book in pre-school, the timeless yellow Abakada, indeed named Lito’s dog "Bobo," and contained strange sentences like "Ibig kong kumain ng sisiw," "Ang tinapay ay lasang sapal," or "May ulol na aso sa daan." And did we say our kids learn bad words from the Internet? Only, Ong missed to include this one: "Ang aso ay may isang mata."
Ong articulated what I felt like when he was lured into buying a package of tools with unimaginable kinds of sewing needles at a low bargain price of P99...My facial muscles were most uncontrollable from laughing at that part in Ang Paboritong Libro..., especially since those tools, to date, have remain unused. Like him, I also had little sense of direction. My friends used to say I was ligawin, as in laging naliligaw. And, maybe, it was true not only for Ong and me, but people could really find themselves in the wrong classes at one time or another.
Unlike usual plots, Bob Ong’s books know neither climax nor denouement. As the stories in his chosen setting incessantly unfold before us, I could only wish that he would have more volumes of works capturing our adversities and triumphs in his own words, thinking, and writing style. In the Philippines, at least, I wish Bob Ong could give Dan Brown or J.K. Rowling a run for their money, asking them in jest which one Filipinos would prefer to read, and may I quote from his book, "You or me? Me or you? And the final is me."