Unpretty

Unpretty - TLC

If Phnom Penh were a high school, then they would be the popular kids; an elite group of people who can always be seen hanging out in the coolest bars, dining out in the most expensive restaurants, laughing gaily, being raunchy and respectable in one breath.

At least, this is what they like other people to think. Or how they probably see themselves.

But as with any other form of polished existence, it is interesting to look underneath the veneer of sophistication that this motley group of people projects. And the things one will see from this angle are not at all pretty.

First, the lifestyle. Seeing them wining and dining in Phnom Penh’s best bars and restaurants, one can easily surmise how extravagant their lifestyle is, and how fat their checkbooks must be. However, scrutiny reveals some harsh truths. Drinks are the cheapest on the menu. And one drink is made to last as long as possible. Food is the same, shared by many people. Also, it has been known to happen many times that celebratory dinners in this group always end with people pitching in to pay the bill, without considering the fact that some of the supposed ‘invited guests’ are new arrivals in Phnom Penh, who have yet to find a gainful employment. In my book, it is but proper to include this crucial bit of information in the invitation. Nothing wrong with sharing the bill, but foisting it on people who might not have the means to do so is simply un-gracious.

Second, the intelligence. When one hears them from a distance, one can easily believe how clever and witty these people are. If one manages to speak with any of them, one will find one’s self being spoken to in English, in spite of the all-too obvious fact that both of you are Filipinos. Nothing wrong with speaking in English with my fellow Filipinos. But if the conversation was started in Filipino, why shouldn’t I respond in the same manner? As I said, there’s nothing wrong with conversing in English, as long as one makes sure that the language is used correctly, not butchered a la Joseph Estrada and George W. Bush. Faux American accents are impressive for 2 seconds at most. But correct grammar goes a long way. Unfortunately, their banter will not survive this kind of scrutiny.

Third, the friendship. Seeing them from afar, one would think how close these people are, how loving they are to each other. And when one is welcomed in the group, one cannot help but feel elated to be part of a very important group, one where people value and cherish each other as true friends. But as days go by, as the new member becomes acclimated to the dynamics of this group, one realizes with great astonishment the degree of subterfuge that permeate their so-called friendships. When they’re together, they behave as if they are each other’s best friends. But when one gets to speak with them separately, they never run out of bad things to say about each other. The dirt strewn when people’s backs are turned is enough to feed a daily gossip column for weeks.

Of course, one can always argue that for every group (them) that stands out in a community (or society) there are countless people (moi) who appear to loathe but secretly want to join this same group. This is so very true. I have been this person long ago. One that longed for acceptance, popularity, and to be part of something significant. But what is significant? How does one discern what counts and what is bull-shit? Knowing this is elusive, and the lessons are always painful. I must admit, I’ve learned these painful lessons long ago.

I have seen similar groups of people throughout my life: in high school, in university, in places of work, etc. But things tend to be magnified here, though I don’t clearly know why. Cambodia is, in many ways, a country still struggling to find its own identity. Phnom Penh is a city that invites re-invention. While I will not speculate on the previous lives of this group in the Philippines, many people, to my knowledge, have created new lives for themselves here in Phnom Penh. But, in a country where more than half of the population is comprised of impressionable young people who consider foreign-ness as something better than their national identity, this kind of posturing poses its own dangers. What are we teaching them by being avaricious and vacuous? But we cannot hold them responsible for this, can we? Thinking about this is probably beyond their capacity, anyway.

People cannot help but feel desire to be assimilated into these groups to improve their (perceived) social status. I know I did, long ago. However, it takes great courage to embark on a journey to discover one’s self. And sometimes the journey involves experiencing groups like this first-hand. The ecstacy, followed by the agony. Fortunately for me, I have developed a deep sense of awareness to recognize and keep away from the type. When things appear too good to be true, they probably are.

I am friends with some people who are still on their own journeys of self-discovery. It is for them that I am writing this.