Between Poverty and Paradise

Paolo Mangahas head of WWF in Malaysia, recently won an award for this
essay

LAST night, I had dinner with a German friend to talk about her planned
trip to the Philippines. She had just completed an internship program in
one of the law firms here in Malaysia and wanted to take a short holiday in
a nearby country before heading off to Australia to finish her studies. She
wanted to know more about the Philippines and asked me for tips on making
the most of the two-and-a-half weeks that she had allotted for this
vacation.

We planned her trip between bites, armed only with a faded map of the
Philippines that we had downloaded from the Internet. My goal was to
identify all the "must-see" places in the country (her criteria being
beaches and volcanoes), plot them according to
distance and flight routes, and then cram them all in 17 days. A tall order
indeed, especially for someone like me who has never had a sense of
direction even in my own neighborhood. For the life of me, I could not spot
where Boracay was on her map. So I took the easy way out and told her to go
to Palawan instead.

I carried on with the task like a diligent student trying to remember my
geography, starting from the rice terraces in Banaue up north, moving down
south to the Mayon Volcano in Bicol and the Chocolate Hills in Bohol. It
was an embarrassing ordeal nonetheless as she could see that I was
struggling to find all the other attractive
destinations on the map, which in turn made me realize how little I truly
knew about
my own country. She was very excited about the trip and was eager to learn
more about the country and its people.

She imagined the Philippines to be an eternal fiesta of Spanish and Chinese
Third-World flair, filled with warm and accommodating people who all speak
with a clear American accent, where all men have the handsome earthy appeal
of Jericho Rosales and women the heavenly mestiza charms of Kristine
Hermosa (thanks to Filipino soap operas that have become so popular here in
Malaysia). It was certainly one of the most honest
cultural impressions that I have ever heard and quite amusingly, one shared
by many. In my German friend's opinion, the Philippines is one of the most
open-minded countries in Southeast Asia. I found this view rather
interesting, especially since it came from a European who has never stepped
foot in the Philippines and whose only direct exposure to the country, was
me.

The funny thing about cultural impressions is that they often come from a
place of both acute perception and blatant ignorance, split in the middle
by what is painfully true. But they are what they are ~ impressions. Quite
naturally, my friend and I have come to build our own impressions about
Malaysia in the several months that we have been here. Malaysia is a
beautiful country that seems to be in a hurry to develop economically, but
is hampered by a palpable trace of social reluctance. It seems grounded on
an age-old culture that simply does not mix well with progress, or at least
the kind dictated and exemplified by the Western world. I find this true
for most developing Asian countries, including the Philippines.

My friend pointed out that she has never seen a beggar in the streets of
Kuala Lumpur since she moved here and asked me if it is the same in the
Philippines. As a matter of fact, she admitted that she has never seen a
beggar up close in her whole life and asked me to explain how it is to live
in a poor country like mine.

She wanted to know more about poverty. Her question struck a chord in me
because I realized that apart from Jericho Rosales, this woman had
absolutely no idea about the country where she was going and how it was out
there. Here was someone who came to me wanting to know more about my
country and the best I could offer was a geographical representation of
scenic destinations, which I hardly even knew myself.

By this time, I had put down the pen I was holding, set aside the map, and
got ready to explain to her details about my country. I did not know where
to begin. After all, how does one explain poverty to someone who has never
experienced it before? To make things more relevant to her, I started by
comparing the Philippines to Malaysia. I told her that blue-collar workers
in the Philippines did not have the same opportunities as the ones in
Malaysia, who can afford to eat in the same restaurants where executives
eat or even shop in stores where their own bosses shop. I told her that
unlike the ones I have
met in Malaysia, secretaries and administrative clerks in the Philippines
will eat in posh
restaurants only on very special occasions and can barely afford to travel
to other countries. I then told her about the beggars, young and old, who
parade the streets of Manila, the children who knock on car windows selling
sampaguita, the mothers who have to forage for food in garbage landfills,
and the unemployed fathers who waste their
lives on drugs and alcohol. I told her about the shanties that bedeck
highways and railroads, the unproductive traffic jams, the garbage-infested
streets and sewers, and the regular typhoons that flood the country and
exacerbate already poor living
conditions. I told her that poverty in the Philippines unapologetically
hits you
in the face the very moment you step in. It is an open wound just waiting
to be healed.

My friend looked shaken, as if experiencing for the first time a world she
has seen only on TV. That was when my tears started to fall. I could not
help it. I have never cried in front of a semi-stranger before but for some
reason, I cried this time because she was still not immune to these things.

Her unawareness taught me to see poverty as if for the first time myself,
which brought out a lot of pain. I have become so used to the pain that I
have forgotten how it felt until I painted for her the sad face of poverty.

I then found myself having to explain to her that despite all these, the
Philippines is still a beautiful country and this you will also feel the
very moment you get there. It is a beauty
characterized by the indomitable human spirit of a people who have seen
better days
and yet still have the capacity to find a piece of heaven in their lives.
It is a beauty defined by the untiring faith of a people who have learned
to acknowledge their plight with reverence and yet have never lost the
courage to dream big dreams. It is a beauty characterized by the painful
history of a people who have been abused and pillaged through the years and
yet still have so much of themselves to give.

Now her tears were falling, smearing the map that I
had earlier vandalized with circles and arrows. But I knew it did not
matter
anymore at this point.

I realized that my friend had learned all she needed to know about my
country and my people. She thanked me profusely, saying that she came to me
wanting to know more about how poor the Philippines is but in the end, she
learned how abundantly blessed Filipinos truly are.

A beach is a beach and a volcano is a volcano anywhere in the world, but it
is the people who make the difference. I learned in that moment that I may
not know the geographical features of my country all too well, but I sure
know its heart and its soul because it is who I am. The real poverty lies
in not knowing this.

Ciao,
Forrest Dump
"We are just but shadows and dusts...shadows and dusts"