Waiting on the world to change

My family did not, still doesn’t in fact, care much for politics. I was raised believing that my social responsibility ended in being a productive member of society: educated, gainfully employed, obedient to the law. I remember, in the 80s, I had an uncle on my mother’s side who got into activism. His choice to pursue this was generally ignored and/or frowned upon, attributed to his poor performance in academics.

In my small immediate family, my father could very well be the most political. He vigilantly keeps himself informed of the latest news, and he wastes no time expressing his opinions. I have imagined that, if familial duties did not prevent him from finishing his college degree, my father in his youth would’ve been an activist himself. My mother and I rarely engage him in discussions of this kind.

I wouldn’t dare call myself an activist. I like to keep abreast of current events, but I was never into attending protest rallies and marches. After college I got into AIDS work, just about the same time that I was starting to acknowledge my homosexuality. I worked and became friends with people who called themselves AIDS activists. Still I didn’t regard myself an AIDS activist (even if I’m still into AIDS work 15 years later). I consider myself more of an advocate. I am an advocate for health for everyone, regardless of social standing. I advocate for equality and equity for all, regardless of sex and sexual orientation.  Because AIDS is also a development issue, I took time to learn about development concepts and issues and let it inform my work and my life.

Still, you wouldn’t find me on the street, protesting. Sure, I’d get upset by the ineptitude of most government officials, at the continuous meddling of the church on state affairs, at the injustice that many people are subjected to but I remain silent. Each of us, I believe, are entitled to our own suffering.

When I settled here in Cambodia, I managed to insulate myself from the things that were happening in my home country. I arrived here in April 2004, not regretting at all that I wouldn’t be able to vote in the presidential elections that year. I completely immersed myself in work, in earning money, and making a life removed from the sheltered life I lived in Manila. It didn’t last long, though. Like my other countrymen, I discovered a strong sense of Being Filipino when I’d been away from my country. Homesickness or not, I couldn’t deny this feeling. 

So I tried to re-connect to my being Filipino by accessing information–reading on-line versions of Filipino newspapers, watching the news at TFC, by befriending other Filipinos here (in spite of mixed results), and by trying harder to keep abreast of what is happening in Manila. I am still resistant to joining the organization of Filipinos here, for reasons I will not disclose in this blog. I still believe in maintaining quality over quantity when it comes to becoming friends with other Filipinos. But I will not distance myself from the affairs that are happening in my country. Not anymore.

I was able to watch and read some news about the ZTE-NBN deal, which apparently came to a head when star witness Jun Lozada revealed the things he said. The image that seared in my mind was of Lozada descending a flight of stairs, surrounded by a phalanx of nuns. However, I did not know the full story. Fortunately, my information needs were filled by J, who dropped by my house last week. In addition, she told me of an event that a group of them had planned to do the day after Valentine’s day. They had drafted some sort of manifesto expressing outrage at the degree of corruption in our government. I got the draft early this week and found it inadequate, but this is just me. I told J, the friend who sent it that most likely I wouldn’t be signing this statement.

Last Friday, around 60 Filipinos showed up at J’s house for a dinner cum forum on what is going on in our country, in light of the latest events surrounding Jun Lozada. People paid $2.00 for a buffet dinner of salads, vegetable, fish, and meat dishes with rice and bread. White T-shirts emblazoned with "I (heart) Jun Lozada" were sold for $1.00. A supposedly revised version of the manifesto cum statement was also distributed to the people. I didn’t detect much difference in the document but I decided to sign.

D, the erstwhile Social Welfare secretary, gave a powerpoint presentation that elucidated not just the issue but the context and the possible consequences of these current turn of events. While she was speaking, I was reminded of Al Gore’s powerpoint presentation in "An Inconvenient Truth". She opened the floor for questions after her presentation and people actively participated. The questions ranged from the truly relevant to the eyebrow-raising.  After the question-and-answer portion, as is customary, people took photos and got back to eating, while some proceeded to sing. I drank margaritas and went home around midnight.

Overall, the atmosphere in the forum was a nice balance of seriousness and fun. I could feel a strong sense of community, of a general concern to the Philippines. I am quite thankful for attending this forum, primarily because of the things I learned. I was appalled by the things I learned but were those enough to send me to the streets? I am angry, yes. I am even indignant. But my nature would probably prevail if I am given the choice to attend a protest rally or not.

I would like to be involved in spreading the word, and discussing the ways for people to be involved as well. In a way it’s good that I am here in Cambodia. If I were in Manila I would’ve been more detached.

Along with sharing information, the forum also tackled ways that we Filipinos in Cambodia can participate in the clamor for truth and change. Creating an e-group was decided upon and I spent Saturday afternoon in setting it up. I designed this logo for the e-group. Personally, my contribution to this cause, aside from setting up the e-group, is writing about this here, for you, dear reader.