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Thoughts of a Filipino at a Crossroads

Unfortunately, one does not get to choose in which part of the world to emerge, out of which pair of legs to poke one’s head.

And there, it seems, lies the rub. The Filipino, born into a country gripped by man-made fevers, now stands, with arms akimbo, at a crossroads: while he did not elect to be born in this country, he has the ability, the right, and the opportunity to leave this mess, move his family to safer grounds. While pondering all this, he discovers that there is little reason or cause to stay.

“Ang hindi magmahal sa bayan…”

His nationalism? Oh, there will be a moment of hesitation, for he will miss the convenience of having maids.

In the poem The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost’s everyman is faced with a life-changing choice. Before him is a fork in the road and he balks. He respects the magnitude of the decision that he has to make.

He is very unlike the Filipino at the crossroads.

The choice in The Road Not Taken appeared to be difficult: there was worry about not being able to make the choice again, not being allowed to peer down both roads again. Pulling up stakes is an act that seems easy for the educated Filipino. This means that there is nothing in his values, nothing from his education, and nothing from his heritage that has the power to restrain him.

While the process of emigrating can be a pother of annoying and troublesome concerns and chores, psychologically, the deed is done the minute a trip is made. In the mind, the decision is an easy one to make because it is protracted: the man goes on a look-see trip, taps the network for opportunities in the desired communities, checks out schooling, mass transportation facilities, etc. The family need not make the move with him immediately, delaying the decision to sell or rent out the house. Soon enough, the decision is no longer an if but a when.

The deadline? School enrollment in the new place of choice.

Not just life-changing.

The decision is life-changing and country-changing.

Every country is really but a people, and each leave-taking subtracts a talent, a potential, or, at the very least, a decades-long molding of a person with a particular set of values and beliefs, hopes and abilities from that country.

For instance, one might have the hardy and browned mien of Ilocanos; is thrifty and industrious; was forced to become responsible by circumstances peculiar to him; was taught to speak good English by one high school teacher; and is able to play a mean guitar because of the tutelage of a musically-inclined mother. His pastor might have drilled into him a desire to be of service to his God, and his wife may be a virtuous woman from Cebu, who rears up children with love and discipline. This unique creation of nurture and nature is one in 6 billion, but he shares some similarities, traits, and visions with others in his family, the men in his town, his brothers at the local fellowship, and his fellow countrymen. This similarity of quaint and particular aspects makes up an identity, and when the identity is shared, and is confined to a geographically defined area, the national consciousness of that region can develop into what is a nation.

These desertions amongst the sharers of a national identity weaken it. Enough leave-takings by leaders, by private businessmen and top-caliber managers and executives, by bright young potential forces, in the same timeframe, will impoverish future Philippines and leave the cause bankrupt of minds and money.

There are enough of them talking about it. In offices and schools, in cafes and cafeterias, the Filipino is shaking his head and bemoaning the news about the most recent delinquency of the Arroyo government. If a fraction of those with the ability to get up and go breaches the resistance offered by lethargy and actually gets up and goes, the vacuum created would be as palpable as a power outage and far more damaging than Pinatubo exploding.

We may as well hand over the national patrimony to the American carpetbagger.

continued: By birth is not by chance.

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