Aptitudes & Appetites

There is a sadness in our land.
That’s how one blogger describes what’s happening in the Philippines today. The news coming from Manila sounds grim indeed: rampant corruption, allegations of election fraud and illegal gambling by the First Family, calls for civil disobedience, rumors of coup, widespread killings of activists and journalists, violent dispersal of peaceful protesters. Meanwhile, 52 percent of the Filipino population lives on less than $2 a day, mainly on food.
The Washington Post recently featured a Filipino government official, Simeon Marcelo, who receives weekly death threats. As a graft buster, the paper says, he is confronting “an officialdom steeped in the culture of bribes, gifts and extortion.”
Ouch!
Closer to home, we hear about the “profligacy” of the Philippine Dept. of Foreign Affairs for housing the Consul General in New York at the Trump Towers. Although the reasons given (i.e. $10,000 a month rent will deliver greater output) are debatable, the appearance doesn’t look good.
Gone are the days of austerity. As my friend Ado Paglinawan puts it in a recent Internet post (recalling his Embassy stint back in the late 80’s), “My days with the late Ambassador Pelaez were spent with extreme thrift. His wife, Tita Edith, and her kitchen staff had to cook for simple receptions. We did not splurge public funds in plush restaurants nor rented prestigious sites to promote our Motherland ... Humility not profligacy is the best messenger when one represents an impoverished country such as ours.”
In that spirit, it is certainly understandable why Ambassador del Rosario is not hosting a lavish shindig at a plush hotel this time. Last year’s June 12 celebration at the JW Marriott, though modest compared to other diplomatic soirees in this town, will probably be the last for a while. Which is fine with us.
As I write this, I’m getting ready to go to the PFC Ball. Am I having second thoughts? Maybe I’ll just cut down on the high balls. And no tuxedos. Can’t fit on them anyway. An old black Barong will do. To be sure, a few won’t take seriously VP Noli de Castro’s call for unity and sobriety, but the presence of Keynote Speaker Maj. Gen. Antonio Taguba - a paragon of humility and simplicity - just might restrain their party animal instincts, mine included.
Not all the news from home is bad, though. A recent New York Times magazine piece featured Filipino bands as an export. We already know, of course, that the Philippines already supplies the world with nurses and doctors, tech workers and teachers, hotel employees and farmers, childcare providers and cooks. And now, Filipino musicians. Cool! They are all over the globe - from Riyadh to Las Vegas - well versed in R&B, retro, techno, modern jazz, ballet, folk dance, fandango, carinosa, ballroom, paso doble, cha-cha, samba, rumba, tango, fox trot and the quickstep. These bands, says the Times, represent a Filipino diaspora that’s “responsible for satisfying an appetite for some 388 million songs a year.” In addition to original melodies, they can easily belt out tunes by the Beatles, Burt Bacharach and Beyonce. In Shanghai and Toyko, for instance, a popular request is Sinatra’s “My Way.” But apparently not in Manila where you can get killed doing that number. It actually happened in a karaobe bar.
The signs are there. Singing “My Way” can get you shot. So why don’t politicians get it? Anak ng Jueteng! Maybe it’s time to export these trapos and let the musicians take over the government instead.
If only our appetites were for songs, not tongs (bribes), we just might rid that certain sadness in the land.
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