Eugene got a whistle, Olongapo
26 July 2009 | Olongapo, Philippines
Mauro
They are a bowed cowed people.
Squatting on broken, once tiled grey pavements of Olongapo's streets, they look up at the passing foreigner, eyes blank, stare a no exit sign. Soaked by rain, their drinking water collects from a grimy red awning into an old plastic bottle. Heads drop again after he's gone.
Thirty years ago there was a glint of pride in those eyes as they shouted, fists clenched and peaceably fought to wrest themselves in their millions from the Marcos' grip. Now there's emptiness in the stares. An unconvincing bravado hovers upwards in a few, if slim opportunity presents itself, but it quickly powers astern when challenged.
This land is not a war ravaged one, but it might as well be given the combat fatigued behavior of its people.
A nation that was once the rice bowl of Asia, the Philippines, now imports this staple from Vietnam. In its stead the new export is its people. Eleven million out of sixty four are abroad with more fighting to get a place in that exodus, making remittances the largest single foreign currency earner for the country.
I didn't want to return to the Philippines because of the heaviness that I'd felt when here last. Having sailed almost the entire length of the country in the 90's visiting villages, barangays and cities and later establishing a branch office in Manila for a Hong Kong company I'd been given the opportunity to gain insight into the peoples' daily lives and aspirations. It had left me deeply moved. Their poverty, the stunted progress towards a working fair economy (the promise of Cory Aquino's People's Revolution) and the havoc wrought into the dislocated lives of the overseas workers' families, was heartbreaking.
Today not much has changed. This is a society confused and violated. They are resigned to more of it.
Two hundred years of Spanish colonization, interrupted by a Japanese invasion and replaced by 50 years of Hollywoodesque occupation, has left it stripped and raped and continuing in an oligarchic South American styled control of this country in the middle of Asia. Its disillusioned citizens have been so intimidated and manipulated that they are convinced they can no longer control their lives unless the oligarchs or bureau-rats approve. So, the rebels, the aspirant, those that could add strength to the national backbone, teachers, health workers, engineers and the like, leave - and leave the bowed cowed behind.
It is said that the true heartbeat of a country is on its footpaths and as you walk through the body of this one, you can barely feel a pulse.
And yet ....
The dilapidated cubicle of soggy cardboard and packing case planks, sandwiched between a crackling power transformer and a barrow selling stale Dunking Donuts is home to Eugene. An invincible nineteen he came to seek his fortune from Alaminos, up North, carrying the clothes on his back and a toothy white grin. Uneducated, unwanted, unskilled and unwise he's tried many jobs only to find the Filipinos' nemesis - the callousness and greed of his fellow disenfranchised citizens. Over time his dream became to find a "business" that he could do by himself, without capital, skill or intimidation.
One semi-dark, rainy day whilst selling sweat rags made of recycled clothes, he witnessed a near collision between a private vehicle backing out of McDonald's car park and a yellow jeepney. He doesn't know why he did it but, instinctively, he jumped behind the private vehicle, stopped the oncoming traffic and allowed the driver to back out safely. Just before he drove off, the driver signaled him over and handed him 10 pesos.
WOW!!! Ten pesos!! On a good day he'd earned maybe twenty five, once thirty! Here he'd got 10 in a few seconds.
This is it he thought! As he was figuring it out, he had another thought, "I need a whistle".
You can see him today outside Olongapo's McDonalds on Rizal Road, just past the squatters and timid touts at the Subic Free Zone entry gate, whistle screeching incessantly, toothy grin, soaked to the skin, waving arms directing traffic, beaming hope and belief that something better will come soon.
Pray, chant, burn incense for him, that he might infect the rest of this nation.