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Sunday, November 27, 2005
Sebellino: The Filipino dream, the idol, and yes, brown Christmas
By Ariel Hans C. Sebellino
Philippine Press Institute
INSPIRATION and passion for writing are two profound virtues for any writer to continue writing. Unlike other journalists who have beats, deadlines and quota to meet, I take my own sweet time at my own pace and these "murmurings" that thrust me to the computer whenever occurrences are presented to me for underestimation or even overemphasis.
When Mabuhay published the speech of Senator Mar Roxas, the only speech by a public official that I have given attention to for the longest time, I thought that this was a piece worth pondering upon. I had no intention of criticizing it, for by itself it is debatable and subject for motley perceptions. Coming from a young and idealistic senator, never mind if he's shaping himself up for the next elections, the speech, sans the author, challenged me to well, raise my point.
Elusive for many Filipinos who sulk into desperation and helplessness, the Filipino dream is a tired battle cry and a repetitive slogan that if it has a life of its own other than being hypothetically articulated, it would have been deader than dead, having committed suicide since time immemorial. Many presidents have come and gone and past administrations that failed to concretize it and even generations of Filipinos who were as confused of its solid definition as they are to this country's direction, the Filipino dream remains to be and stands forlorn as the single identifiable abstract position of the Filipino to be hopeful and optimistic amidst the unnerving doubts and height of discontent. That it is still a struggle and a noble cause to fight for, I will hum my way to it like I would hear the rhythm 'the last leaf clings to the bough' hitting the airwaves.
As it is, I would not want it to escape all of us who constantly dream of an improved quality of life whether here or abroad. Perchance to dream no more, according to Shakespeare. Watch local television, there's an invasion of heroes; glance at politics, shall I say, evasion of leaders and a leadership that's lost in oblivion. I pity the youth that are robbed off the credulity and clarity, but pessimism does not become it when I console myself with the belief that heroes and leaders find their embodiment and personification in young Filipinos who will inherit the legacy of the old, if at all.
I find solace that the young generation is able to rise above the harsh realities and is pushed into the fore to mold a path towards a dignified existence to fend for themselves like their parents would during their childhood. Where art thou? Right under our noses.
When I ride taxi cabs, I usually start the brief conversation with "musta pasko manong?" The driver would shoot back "meron pa ba?"
I am not surprised with the answer. The little brown man has given up like he would with a wasted toy. Consumerism or commercialism has taken over so seriously that the significance of Christmas has taken a back seat. "Importante yung mga bata." He would lightheartedly continue if only to welcome consolation that if not for the kids, Christmas may just be any other day you get over with. When I was young, I was fascinated with white Christmas--that white thick blanket of snow blocking pavements, dropping on trees, tiny crystals pecking on the face. Until finally I've gotten over the idea that frost bites, shivers and thaws might just be too hurtful and incongruous for a still developing country like ours--and that white has nothing to do with the Filipino dream in a land where whitewash is commonplace.
The package deal is brown. We have the earliest and longest Christmas celebration. Putting out embellishments after undas and remain untouched till the first or second week of January of the following year. Brown Christmas to me is culturally and spiritually Filipino that it does not diminish nor take away the very core and heart of paying tribute to the One and commemorating redemption.
It is fascinating to think that brown is symbolic of the Malay race and lends a symbiosis to this land where disputes on agricultural equity is as old as "hereditary" casualty of who is fitting captain of the tilled soil. Brown to me is humility, acceptance, rawness and coming together of strengths and positive forces and energies of nature for an ideal co-existence.
Enter Vergel O. Santos. A commanding presence, and when he speaks, authority becomes him. It is journalism like no other when he writes. His body of works exemplify excellence, credibility and professional integrity that have been masterfully molded over the years. Now an icon, I first encountered Mr. Santos in 1997 when I entered PPI. Cool guy, I thought. Together we were a team (with Ermin Garcia and Joe Pavia) in bringing seminars to the regions. To the young journalists, he is an idol who is looked upon in high esteem, but in so reachable a pedestal that they are able to comprehend the ideals and principles of good journalism.
His new book "Worse than free" is his much-anticipated offering for his following (fanatics, I supposed) from the industry, academe, private sector and government and non-government entities who paid tribute during its launch at the Filipinas Heritage Library in Makati.
It is a compilation of articles, mostly on ethics from the time he started writing columns. I refuse to further my admiration of him who I fondly call interchangeably "tatay, tito"--lest I fall unwittingly into the pit of injustice.
For Bisaya stories from Davao. Click here. (November 27, 2005 issue)
Write letter to the editor.Click here.
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