A Lamentation

I love my country. I love it for what I have seen that is good about it. No matter how willing I am to leave it, I know deep in my heart that it would be just as willing to go back when I would have left it. It is my home, after all. When I do leave the Philippines, I want to show other peoples that I, who was born and raised in a country wrought with political and economic instability, could still be somebody who can bring something to the world.

I'm a little sad that I might sound hypocritical right now for saying that after all the stuff that I’ve said about my own country in previous blog entries. But to be honest, although I'm quite disillusioned to the point that I would be quite ashamed to be from a country run with sheer mediocrity, I am satisfied that beyond the ugliness of it all, I have been lucky enough to see parts of it that is still worth fighting for.

When I write my novel, I think about the Philippines that I have learned to love and treasure—the smiling faces of my people, the idealism of my peers and of those in the military (including members of my family) … the land that somehow still boasts of friendly, hospitable, prayerful and industrious people—that I feel is still there somewhere—or at least, I hope so.

I shudder to think that from the nation that our foreign neighbors once looked up to for holding a “peaceful, bloodless revolution,” we have become the subject of ridicule. I have immersed myself in the company of visitors of different nations, and I have heard them complain that they, too, have been disillusioned about what the Philippines could offer. Instead of respect and tolerance, they have been met with racial stereotyping and apathy brought on by ignorance. Sometimes, I tell myself that perhaps they had been expecting too much from a country they don’t even know; different nations have different values. But that would be unfair of me to think, because the Philippines is advertised to be … as I have said above. The Filipino word for “foreigner” is dayuhan, from the root word dayo, literally “visit”; dayuhan means “visitor” or “guest,” and they must be treated as such. It breaks my heart, knowing that the values that this nation hold dear are being twisted or ignored.

This brings me to Encyclopedia Dramatica, which is a website parodying Wikipedia. Although ED typically defames nearly everything under the sun with explicit language and sometimes untrue statements for the sake of humor, it is often believable and accurate to reality. I recently bumped into one article about the Philippines. Nearly everything in it is true, about as true as nearly everything is in the article about Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight. I am not proud and arrogant enough to find it completely offensive (it’s not offensive if it’s true; at least, to me). It just scares me, to be an individual from a country falling behind her neighbors. It frightens me to imagine about what other peoples really think about us.

I try my best to be a good representative of my country. Already, I look forward to publishing my novel and showing other people the Philippines as I know it. I just fear that by now, it seems that people of other nations wouldn’t take me seriously anymore because I am Filipino, unless they really know who I am.

I know my identity. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But if that identity meant being associated with hypocritical behavior and mediocre standards, I guess I'm gonna have to work hard to be the best I can be, despite my dystopic origins.

About Cory Aquino

I was born in 1988, two years after the historical People Power Revolution that ended the reign of Dictator Ferdinand Marcos after 20 years. By the time that I was old enough to care about what was going on in the world, Fidel V. Ramos was president. That is to say that I never truly appreciated Corazon C. Aquino as the first woman president of the Philippines except from what I would learn later on in school.

I only know that it was on her time of office that democracy was brought back to the Philippines. As I was taught in school, democracy had to be the best form of government because the common man has a part in the way things are run in the country. Thus, people seem to claim that President Aquino was a sort of a hero for standing up for the rights of her people to freedom of speech and press … and all the benefits of a democratic rule.

Considering the condition of the Philippines now, after almost 25 years of democracy, I was gravely disillusioned—more so when a college professor of mine once ranted how President Aquino was not even the best ruler she could possibly be. He told us about how she was not even properly qualified to become president because she was a housewife who was educated in France—with a degree for French cuisine. I also heard that she appointed into office not those who would be good in the job but her friends—including her stylist, manicurist, et cetera.

All those combined, I am sorry to say that I feel rather indifferent about the death of the Lady in Yellow. I admit that I feel quite guilty that, even in her death, I still blame her for the gradual decline of this country. As I have seen in the memorial service dedicated to her, she was a nice person who was possibly just defamed by opposition during her time in office. But I am sad to say that the damage was done; what I’ve heard cannot be unheard. I know I’m supposed to feel sad about her passing, but I just don’t feel anything. I’m not even grateful toward her for bringing democracy back into this country. I feel bad, not because she is gone, but because I don’t feel bad about her being gone. It’s frustrating.

I could only say that I do hope that the former president Ma. Corazon Cojuangco-Aquino would rest in peace, along with her husband Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino in the afterlife. With that, I also hope that the legacy they supposedly left for the Philippines did not die with them.

Something to Be Proud of

I'm not usually this passionate about my origins, but let me show you a glimpse of my ancestors' hometown.


http://proud-to-be-pinoy.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html

Rock ≠ Conformity?

Freaky Friday is not particularly one of my favorite Disney movies, but when I watched it again last night on DVD, I couldn’t help admiring it for “treating rock music with respect.” Like School of Rock, it frequently references “classic” examples of rock, while the music that Anna Coleman’s band plays is reminiscent of punk in its root form.

I am the kind of music lover who listens to whatever is on the radio. Having been born in 1988, my musical experience began in the early 90’s, when I enjoyed Michael Learns to Rock and some Bon Jovi and Aerosmith, and Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston, boy bands such as the Backstreet Boys, ‘N Sync, 5ive and Boyzone, and female singer-songwriters like Alanis Morissette, Natalie Imbruglia and Chantal Kreviazuk.

Let’s not forget the Disney movies—I am a huge Disney girl. As a child, I watched the fairy tales, Robin Hood, Alice in Wonderland, The Nightmare Before Christmas (if you count that as Disney), The Lion King, Pocahontas, Mulan, Hercules and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. (Tarzan was good, but I look at it as the weak link in the chain of Disney classics, because it was in the milieu that spawned non-musical animated features, cheesy Disney Channel Original Movies and poor and unnecessary sequels.)

Given this background, I am positively embarrassed to say that although I am a fan of rock music, I haven’t listened to the bands that “decent” rock fans uphold as the true rockers. Although I respect that the Stone Temple Pilots, The Ramones, Black Sabbath, Radiohead, Kiss, Queen, AC/DC or Marilyn Manson are among those that are hailed as the epitome of rock, I haven’t listened to them. Nirvana, Aerosmith and Bon Jovi are among the few bands that I have listened to. Growing up, the closest I have been to rock was through alternative bands like Garbage, Oasis and No Doubt, which is sometimes considered to be pop.

I am also ashamed to call myself a rock fan when I was among the millions of pubescent girls who screamed over boy bands during what I call the bubblegum boom in the late 90’s. But when Linkin Park came out in 2001, which was the decline of boy bands, I tried my ears with “nu rock,” which is the classification of bands like Incubus, POD and Staind. I loved these bands, and their angsty content inspired me to become a writer; Linkin Park is my favorite, because they managed to express anger without being dependent on swearwords.

To my surprise, nu rock is deplorable and inferior in the opinion of fans of the “classic” bands listed above. But at the time, I was not aware of such a hierarchy.

In the years that followed, pop rock became popular. Michelle Branch and Vanessa Carlton started the trend in rebellion against bubblegum pop, but Ashlee Simpson, Avril Lavigne and Kelly Clarkson were the genre’s most celebrated by 2005.

Also around the time that Avril Lavigne came out, pop punk took the place of nu rock. Good Charlotte, Green Day and Simple Plan became fan favorites.

Evanescence came out of nowhere and became an instant success in 2003. It seemed to be one of a kind; ignorant music listeners called it gothic rock. But real Goths didn’t think so, so I respect their opinion and have since refused to call Evanescence gothic. Amy Lee wasn’t even a real Goth, after all; she just likes wearing dark clothes and black makeup.

As I have been in my childhood, I liked whatever was on the radio, so I listened to these bands and singers despite complaints from traditionalists, who called these musicians posers. I ignored those complaints: Avril Lavigne and her contemporaries are pop singers anyway; I looked at Good Charlotte, Blink-182, Green Day and Simple Plan’s music to be a new version of punk rather than a different kind of music labeled as punk, which is what traditionalists claim. Evanescence is only labeled by the media as goth, but they really aren’t.

I entered college, just as emo music became all the rage. Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! At the Disco, Dashboard Confessional and the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, among others came into the spotlight. At first, I thought this was a new wave of pop punk bands, but I discovered through some research that this is a different genre altogether. An offshoot of punk, emo is characterized by depressing lyrics, a combination of red and black clothes (not to be confused with the White Stripes, who wear red and white clothes), eyeliner (even on men), black- or red-framed eyeglasses (this fell out of trend within a year of its popularity) and sleek, overgrown bangs that cover one or both eyes. In the Internet, some people include some nu rock bands like Linkin Park and Staind in the label “emo,” as their lyrics are commonly angry, depressing, and repeatedly so.

I am not a fan of emo music (i.e. MCR, FOB, etc.), but I admit to listening to some of their songs. However, I am not one to actually buy their albums.

As you have probably figured out by now, I am pretty much a conformist. I got good grades in school, and never skipped classes on purpose. My academic performance is not my best, but only because I am lazy. I go to church and sing there, prompting me to be punctual and committed to attending Mass services. I am not what you would call a Jesus freak but I have significant knowledge of the Bible, Salvation History, and some Church doctrines; I get uncomfortable when I don’t get to go to Mass on my birthday or on Ash Wednesday. When it comes to religion, I am a devout Catholic, although I do not believe that Mary stayed a virgin after having Jesus, who I also believe married Mary Magdalene. Whoever this particular Magdalene was, she was most probably Mary of Magdala, not to be confused with the one who washed Jesus’s feet (that was Mary of Bethany); whether or not this Magdalene was the adulterer, I don’t quite know.

My conformity is the same with my taste in music, which makes me worry a bit. I listen to bands that are labeled inferior posers, and yet I admire “classic” rock bands without listening to them—am I hypocritical or just open-minded? I just don’t want traditionalists to shoot at me.

Forever the King of Pop

I've never cried over the death of a celebrity before. Suddenly, I find myself breaking down over a rather memorable video on YouTube.

2001 marked the twilight of boy bands and bubblegum pop. Britney Spears and company were growing up, and their fans were growing up with them by either listening to more substantial music or staying as loyal followers. I was a faithful Backstreet Girl at the time, although, with the rising popularity of rap metal/nü rock, I was drifting away from the pop genre and trying my ears on "darker" material. But even then, I was still consuming the last full blast of the boy band era. Then, that year's MTV Video Music Awards happened.

'N Sync at the time was the top boy band. Being the Backstreet Girl that I was, I only got pissed that they were flashier than the Backstreet Boys. It was obvious with their performance of "Pop." Still, I was pretty much entertained; I was actually impressed, especially with the opening sequence (how did they make the stage and everything in it black and white?!) and the props and costumes and the choreography. Then, the performance gradually came to an end with the members of 'N Sync repeating the chorus while moving from one area of the stage to another, eventually stopping at the middle, with a giant Etch A Sketch behind them, which drew the words "Kings of Pop," as they ended the song. The music seemed to fade and break when the letter "S" was erased, leaving the phrase "King of Pop."

I got the drift, and at that very moment, I screamed in an excitement incomparable to that which I would feel when watching a Backstreet Boy video. I couldn't believe it. He was back! Michael Jackson was back, and he was performing with the hottest boy band who, like myself, grew up with his music. Michael Jackson was no longer as handsome as I remembered him to be, but he was the King of Pop, and will always be.

That was eight years ago. At the wake of Michael Jackson's death five days ago, I was craving for videos of him that struck my memory. The first one I thought of was 'N Sync's performance of Pop, and I watched it on YouTube. When the finale showed, I just started crying. I remembered how happy I was to see Michael Jackson performing again, and now I would never experience that same excitement ever again.

Michael Jackson may have influenced many pop and hip-hop stars today such as Britney Spears, Usher, Justin Timberlake and Chris Brown, but none of them compare to what he exhibits in his performance. The King of Pop, indeed--he made such a great impact to this world with his unforgettable music. He had his ups and downs and endured ridicule because of his seeming lapse in sanity and deformed visage, but nobody could really deny what he had contributed to popular culture.

He may no longer be in this world, but his legacy would live on. Be it in music, dance or film, he had made his mark. For this, the world will never forget him.

Philippines vs. Spain Again?

On the day that my sister and I were going to watch Twilight, we got into the theater early enough to watch the trailers of upcoming movies.

One trailer in particular caught my eye, and it’s Baler, starring Anne Curtis and Jericho Rosales, as a Filipina and a Spanish soldier respectively. At first I thought this was just another movie about the Philippine Revolution. The idea seems a bore to me but the concept of an interracial romance (though not obvious since both actors are whiter than the average Filipino) is intriguing.

Since I saw the trailer, I’ve wanted to see the movie. I’ve long learned to not be so biased on the Filipino side of the Philippine Revolution (mind you, history books here are VERY biased). And since this movie features a love affair between a Filipino and a Spaniard, I thought this movie just might have a saving grace.

But soon after I’ve seen the trailer, my professor, who is a history enthusiast, mentioned that this “historical” movie, like its predecessors, seems to have been made with a minimal amount of research based on Filipino AND Spanish accounts of the Siege of Baler, which is the event that the movie was based on.

Now, I haven’t seen the movie yet but if I take my professor’s word for it, I think that would be unfair. What was the point of having a Spanish protagonist if that character would just be a token? I’m suddenly afraid that Jericho Rosales’s character would turn out to be getting himself on some damn moral dilemma about how wrong it would be if he keeps siding with his own countrymen.

Just, if Baler would become as historically biased as my prof says it is, then maybe the filmmakers would be missing the most important points about war.
There is no good or bad side in it. In the case of the Philippines versus Spain, it is only a matter of territorial, cultural, political dispute in which two peoples fight over a land that each claims to be its own. Yeah, the Spaniards never actually loved the Filipinos but it would be unfair to brand them as bad people just because of the atrocities they supposedly did to the Filipinos. But that’s not everything that they did.

The Spaniards unified the archipelago, brought Christianity and, in a way, helped develop Filipino culture as we know it today. Yeah, I would have to agree with another prof who once said that being colonized is like having a stranger ordering you around in your own household; but considering the benefits that the Spanish colonization brought to this country, I guess it’s only fair that we acknowledge and appreciate that.

Apparently, biased historians only cared about snooty Spaniards hitting indios with canes when they fail to greet the visitors, or Spanish priests raping native women. But we have to take note that just because some of them actually did those things doesn’t mean they all did. More importantly, it doesn’t automatically make them the villains of the story.

What do Spanish accounts say about the Siege of Baler or the Philippine Revolution in general? It seems reasonable we take those into account, too. But apparently, Filipinos would rather make themselves the victims all over again.

War doesn’t work that way. Each side might be fighting for what they think is right, but there will always be casualties. Whether one or the other is justified, we can never really tell unless we give each some consideration. Nonetheless people would die for a cause that they weren’t necessarily involved with. That’s the tragedy of war. There is no good and bad side to speak of, but people fight and kill nonetheless.

And as for the idea that Jericho Rosales’s character is a token: it could be that his character is used to show that not all Spaniards are bad. But if he’s the only one, that’s still not a good sign, don’t you think?

Nicole Scherzinger to Sing at Pacquiao Match?

A few weeks ago, my family stopped over at S&R for some grocery shopping on the way home from Clark, Pampanga. As usual, the radio was playing, and I was taking a look at the cookies and cakes displayed on tables near the daily products while listening to the radio. The woman DJ was sharing her thoughts about Pussycat Doll Nicole Scherzinger, who allegedly refused to talk about her family during an interview.

I wasn’t listening too closely, but the DJ seemed a little ticked off about Miss Scherzinger not talking about her family. Whatever else she said, it didn’t really matter to me. However, one statement struck me: “Do you think Nicole Scherzinger is still worthy to sing at Manny Pacquiao’s match?”

Now, I have heard that Nicole Scherzinger had expressed her admiration for the People’s Champion as well as her desire to someday sing at one of his future matches. I was rather pleased. Miss Scherzinger was born in Hawaii and grew up in Kentucky, where I guess she had little exposure of Filipino culture so I don’t expect her to think too much of it. However, I was glad that she actually acknowledges her Filipino heritage and appreciates what Filipinos are capable of. In the past, she appeared in local commercials such as in Bench Body and Clear anti-dandruff shampoo, which I take as her way of saying, “Hey, I may be just half-Filipino, but I appreciate that you accept me as one of your own.” So why are people making such a big deal about Nicole Scherzinger refusing to talk about her family? I think I know: Filipinos probably think she must be somehow ashamed of her Filipino heritage.

I am not a fan of either the Pussycat Dolls or Nicole Scherzinger, but in my curiosity of the girl group’s lead singer’s ethnicity, I took a peek at her Wikipedia article, where I discovered that her Filipino father left her and her mother when she was just a baby; her stepfather Gary Scherzinger adopted her and her sister. Such a tumultuous family background—I wouldn’t be surprised that she wouldn’t want to talk about it. In any case, the fact that her biological father was a Filipino is hardly the case.

As long as Miss Scherzinger chooses to embrace her Filipino heritage as much as she likes, I wouldn’t have any trouble believing that she is worthy to sing at Manny Pacquiao’s match. If it’s such an honor for her to do so, well, I also think it’s an honor to have her among us as an admirer of the People’s Champion.