Dealing with History

I have always loved historical accounts, both local and international. In fact my love of philosophy stems from knowing how the philosophers had lived and died. I think it is fascinating going to the past, especially now that I am reading the History of Modern France. Sorry but I forgot the author. Anyway, history books give us that feeling of being a part of the events, well of course, that is, if the author is really good in whipping up the readers' interest in the subject.

Some historical accounts like that one of David Fagen, an American black soldier who fought on the side of the Filipino people during the Fil-American war, and of Macario Sakay, the last Filipino hero who fought the Americans during the same period also made me really go through every detail.

I think that good historical accounts somehow break our hearts a bit, as they tell how the dreams of heroes and heroines are not fulfilled. They show us how they had to go through the great difficulties of making people realize how important what they are trying to say is, like Sojourner Truth, who travelled miles and miles and braved deathly situations just to help free slaves. By the way, her speech, "Ain't I a Woman" really gives the the atmosphere of the Convention where she delivered it - must have been full of machos, and machas (women who did not believe in emancipation but would follow men in politics.)

Another thing that history does to me is to make my heart skip a bit, and then I have to turn away, because the wound it has caused has not been healed yet. This is when in that particular period, I was truly involved in its creation, in its processes. Like when I helped start the party for women. A group of women asked me about setting up that party. We worked through the night its principles, mission and vision, you call it. Then suddenly on the day itself, everything changed. They changed the name, and I can't remember the rest. So I walked out and told the women at the register, "why do you work that way? You wasted my time talking with you, only for you to change everything today." and they just stared at me.

Another time, when I participated in the elections of Amnesty International here, I could feel the suffocating feeling -- of people trying to manipulate the processes. My name was put up as a candidate for directorship, but a foreigner questioned something which hit at my organizational links. Nonetheless, the body decided that the question was not allowed to be a hindrance to my candidacy. However, when the counting began, I was shocked to find out that only two people, two women were counting the votes in one corner. There was no transparency at all. And no third party to watch if the counting was being done correctly and honestly. Then one officer approached me later on, "Kilala ka na naman nila. Siguro, next year, baka manalo ka na." For an international organization to act this way, especially an organization that seeks to uphold the political rights of oppressed Third World peoples, was I shocked beyond belief.

The latest was my involvement in an electoral exercise. I see the pictures of the winning candidates that I rooted for and the pictures give me the blues bliss.

That political exercise was quite tiring, what if you will consider that efforts will have an impact on a whole continent. My country is only composed of 7,100++ islands, but that one was a whole continent. Maybe I shall remember that period, for a long, long and nurse good and not so good feelings for a while until such time that I would be able to get to another country, see another culture and speak a different language, not English but possibly French or Vietnamese. Maybe there is something that really perks up a person when he or she meets someone from a highly different culture.

And so, for history to be swallowed without bitterness, to be regarded as a boost to maturing a person, it is good to light candles and pray for peace in this world so that security, that word security will not be bandied about as a cause for war of any kind, whether physical, socio-psychological or emotional and that all political exercises shall become an obligation and a sweet encounter at the same time for like-minded peoples aiming at some ideals.

new day

Today, I reviewed my emails, and saw bits and pieces of messages from the States. For many months I was involved in American politics, writing and receiving emails from various names ranging from Barack, to David, Jarrett, Michelle, the Presidential Inaugural Committee, Ted Daschle, and another one whose family name starts with M. I felt heady then, as there was something going on -- the election of the first Afro-American as president. The run-up period was particularly exciting as the Republics put up a vigorous fight to defeat the Democrats. But then of course, the rest is history. Then a new twist happened. The Barack team started emailing about joining the inauguration and my having to write why I wanted to attend. As weeks wore on, different people asked the same thing; so the same messages and the same requirement as to the reason for attendance. But at the last, when it was Barack who was signing the message, I stopped short because my son and daughter had cautioned me about its being a scam. Then the emails started saying that if I could not attend, then I could gather a group that would watch the video instead. There was something spooky about the way the reader was conditioned to think that I was a part of a big thing, that I had to do this and do that.

Although I am not an American, I felt compelled to respond to the game. Then it suddenly dawned on me, after writing that brief speech for Barack for 2012,Then I remembered what Kuya Dolly, my cousin, had told me: "I removed my name because baka kung sinu-sino lang ang nagsusulat noon at ang pumipirma ay si Barack daw, e hindi pala. (someone might have been writing those messages and then signing up as Barack, when it could have been just any other fellow.)

But as I told Ogening my son, life has many twists and turns; and also fake and genuine friends. One just has to coast along and should one proved to be a jerk, then that is his or her problem. Not mine, because I started everything from a solid and genuine commitment that American politics needs to be redirected to something that could fulfill the dreams not only of the American people, but all people around the globe.

So today, as I read my email, I felt a void, a relief also because I know that I have to fill up that void with something else, something more authentic, an authentic existence that can stand the tests of all kinds of political storms and stresses.

loving

what makes loving a person such a very big effort? so many books give advice on how to love, as if it were truly a course to be learned and practiced. but what is really loving? february 14 is fast approaching and i am sure many stores are now gearing up for it, to present the best hear-shaped designs for their bookstores to attract buyers, for the windows of cafes to attract cooing couples wanting to relive their first dates, for the gates of motels and hotels to usher in lovers feeling sexy and expressive of that "it' which could be for procreation too, according to the religious.

yet loving i feel should be a simple pit-a-pat feeling for not always a person, but an activity, like a certain craft or hobby or skill. i have felt that great urge to create puppets in 1994 to 2000 as puppetry had become then a good respite from the rigorous dissertation writing i was doing. mental work and handicraft became a good combination to maintain one's balance in the face of a fake regime, which was tainted with questions of genuine votes for its installation.

by the way, i had my column writings as well as access to magazines that accepted my fictional writings then to allow me to express my political views through them rather liberally. but as usual, suppression is the name of the game for the powers-that-be, and i had to shift activities -- as i had to turn to filmmaking, and this was after the election of the only president who earned a landslide victory at the polls.

the rest is history, my dears. but i can assure you that i was loving myself through all these years as i was able t churn out many works, from puppet plays, to a film and body of political writings which i could compile into books. of course, before loving others, we must love ourselves first.

creative efforts

when creativity becomes a way of life in any society, then the people can become very happy indeed. life becomes something that is looked forward to day in and out. even meeting people, regardless of their attitudes are welcomed as new experiences worthwhile going through. even situations which are sometimes avoided becomes a beautiful encounter that could fill up one's memories.

but sometimes, creativity or that creative spirit is hard to come by. some people could easily capture it, day in day out. like i know a couple of painters, who upon getting up in the morning right away goes to their studio room splashing colors, lines and shapes on big and small canvasses. their works fetch a big sum internationally and which allows them to roam around, and come home to their original countries easily.

an urban poor woman i know turns out beautiful bags made of recycled newspapers which she does a sa living and as a craft of beauty. her bags are exported by a foundation but she gifts people with her works. these show real effort put into them, and her eyes show meticulous inclinatin to have perfect braiding, and even the selection of the pages that will be included in the making of the bags.

Yet, when a country is ruled by gangsters, whose prime purposes in life are to maintain power and fill their pockets with gold, all types of creativity vanishes or becomes a very difficult effort. some people can overcome this by not being engaged in media - not listening to the radio, not watching tv, not reading the papers, etc. others shut up and walk away when their crown starts talking politics. i really wonder how boring such a life would be.

so then, being creative could require a great effort or not at all, so long as one keeps an open mind. why because even politics could be handled creatively. oh if only if....