Plateau Bilateral

Philippine-United States relations reach a new plateau with the publication of Portraits of a Tangled Relationship, a coffeetable book that is readable as it is comprehensive in its compilation of rare photographs that touch on such bilateral ties. But thanks to authors Jose Ma. Cariño, Jose Dalisay, Sonia Ner, Mabi David and Crispina Reyes and publisher Ars Mundi, through these portraits the country may finally stand on equal terms with the superpower, shoulder to shoulder as it were, and the Pinoys no longer the little brown brother we’ve come to be known the past century.

Coffeetable books are a tricky thing, since visuals usually take precedence over text but must not overwhelm it. This edition, however, benefits from its well wrought design and the authors’ clear focus on what they want to achieve: take a second hard look at the Philippines’ relationship with the US, through all its ramifications, yet minus the romantic patronizing and with added good humor.

The meat of the matter is laid out plainly in the introductory essay by Dalisay, which is par for the course for him. Here we learn the etymology of the book’s title, how during the 50th anniversary of Philippine independence the US flag got entangled with our own during a program, an apt symbol of an enduring relationship built as much on love as on hate, on respect as much as on loathing. Our fates are irrevocably intertwined, the sign seemed to say, so Portraits makes the most of these overlapping histories.

Dalisay points out correctly that the English language is key to the Filipinos’ regard of America. Proof of this are the puns galore found in the names of different commercial establishments: the florist Petal Attraction, the modista Elizabeth Tailoring, the pospas joint Goto Heaven.

Dalisay makes mention of the Thomasites, the first batch of American teachers that came here to establish the public school system, and the pensionados, the initial wave of Filipinos who were given grants and scholarships to study in the US. Indeed, the list of Fulbright and other scholars is impressive, ranging from eventual presidents of the republic to cabinet secretaries and national artists for theater design and national scientists. He could well have noted that the phenomenon has come full circle, because now one of our prime exports to the US inner cities are teachers who leave behind decades of work in state-run schools, as living on one’s retirement fund is just not possible.

The timeline as compiled by researchers David and Reyes is a welcome outline of facts and trivia that would be helpful to students of whatever level, and the publisher’s having seen fit to donate this book to schools and libraries from suggested recipients drawn up by those who attended the launch at PhilAm Life tower some weeks ago, augurs well for Ars Mundi’s kawanggawa mindset. Balikatan is okay, but bayanihan is even better, especially when it comes to helping stock up our badly depleted school libraries.

The first entry in the timeline is about Pinoy sailors who jumped ship in the port of New Orleans during the century the Philippines was still under Spain, a footnote that begs for more extensive documentation and research if not provide gist for an independent film or monograph.

However, Portraits’ unquestionable reason for being is the black and white vintage photographs placed side by side with quotes from various authors, sayings, song lyrics and Internet jokes among other missives, almost like a doble vista take on this weird and wonderful and sometimes one-sided relationship of Pinas with America, and vice versa.

There are unearthed photos of a hanging of insurrectos in Bohol, a crowded Escolta on the occasion of the visit of conquering hero Douglas MacArthur, the first students of the Thomasites gathered for a group portrait with their teacher before a nipa hut, as well as drawings of Kenkoy who, come to think of it, now resembles Dagwood from the comic strip Blondie.

The pictures of old and uncomplicated Manila complete with tranvia go beyond mere nostalgia and into a longing for a completely different world, one foreign to today’s youth distracted by the latest gadgets and gimmicks, and for which this book may clue them in to a lost city, which was anyway inhabited by their grandparents and other forebears.

Among the contributing photographers is Pulitzer nominee Romy Gacad, here with a photo of his dying veteran father still waiting for equal benefits, the dextrose tube stuck into his spindly arm. Also listed as contributors are the Sepe brothers Nico and Jun, who honed their photojournalist’s craft in the local newspapers and magazines before venturing out to the wire agencies where there were more opportunities for growth both professionally and financially, which may be the same thing.

Of the authors quoted to go balikatan with the photos, most prominent and perhaps inevitable are those from the writers Carlos Bulosan and Bienvenido Santos, who spent a good deal of their mature lives in America.

And wasn’t it Bulosan who said that America is in the heart, even as he remembered the laughter of his father while homesick in a foreign land? Santos, god rest his soul, ruminated about the scent of apples in a Midwestern town, the smell of sweet putrefaction that is the lot of the exile.

Chitang Nakpil also makes her presence felt, with a quote on the liberation of February 1945 in ravaged Malate, the tree-lined borough of her childhood, and how the conquering GI Joe was like an eyesore in the already pockmarked landscape.

Doubtless there may be some things left out, but what book, even coffeetable ones, doesn’t leave some things hanging? Portraits is a good enough start of a drawing board to evaluate the century-old ties, to see how much ground we’ve covered, how much water let pass under the bridge of our bilateral give and take, nip and tuck, the ebb and flow of reeling years. Without America, where would we get the antithesis to our thesis, and where then would be everyone’s synthesis?

It can help us understand why Americans are like they are, and why too we Filipinos view them that way. A country across the ocean gave us the gift of democracy and education, but this doesn’t stop the indio from coming into his own with the native abilidad, a resiliency unique to the race and to this book as well.