She was going to a high school dance. Her dress was gorgeous. Her hair was a masterpiece. She is dating a handsome youngman who cares deeply about her. Yet with all this, she was almost in tears. I asked her what was wrong. She told me, through the pain, that she wished that for one day she could be WHITE.
It is normal of young people to be very critical of themselves. They often want this a little bigger or that a little smaller. This is a normal part of growing up and finding your own identity. What bothers me this obsession with white skin is not limited to young people. The store shelves here in the Philippines are filled with soaps and lotions that “whiten” skin. There are TV commercials for white skin treatments. All your major movies stars have “light” colored skin.
I am not intelligent enough to know why there seems to be this national obsession with white skin. Is it a remnant of colonialism when the ruling class was light skinned? Is it a desire to meet some standard of beauty created by nonFilipinos? Is it merely the desire to be different or exotic? I do not know. I do know I will never get use to children rubbing my skin as if it had magical properties.
Let me give you a little perspective. First the majority of the world is NOT white. Second, dark skin protects the person from skin cancer. Naturally dark skin is healthy. Finally some of the world’s most beautiful women are NOT white. Halle Berry is said to be the most beautiful woman in the world. She is only the most current non-white beauty to capture that title. Every year American women spend BILLIONS of dollars and many long hours in the sun trying to get that beautiful dark skin that is natural to most Filipinas. My Philippine sisters you should glory in your beautiful skin color. God has blessed you. Walk proud and if that jerk wants a white skinned woman, he is not worthy of you anyway. There is someone out there that thinks YOU are the most beautiful woman in the world, brown skin included.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
TO PEE OR NOT TO PEE
Philippines is not the only nation in the world where the people urinate in public. There is a major European nation where the average citizen pees in public almost everyday. (324 days a year). Even their women urinate in public an average of 22 times per year. That is not to excuse this unhealthy behavior, it just proves that the Philippines is not unique in this regard.
You will never see me standing beside the road peeing. It is not because I am afraid someone will peek and see all those stories about American men are not true. I do not pee for one reason… I LOVE THE PHILIPPINES. Urine is pollution. Urinating in public is unhealthy for all living things.
The average American urinates in public only 8 times a year. This is with good reason. In America this activity can be a very serious crime. It can be classified as a “sex” crime. This would require the peeing “criminal” to register with police wherever he went.
My objection is for health reasons alone. Everyday approximately 75,469 gallons of human urine pollutes our beautiful city. That is 2.6 MILLION gallons of pee a month. How can that be good for the health of each of us?
I am not political. It is not my place as a guest here to be involved in local or national politics. But I attended an open meeting of the mayor as he presented a program to clean-up pollution. I was impressed with the professional presentation and the comprehensive plan. Currently the water table is not polluted but that will not stay that way if we neglect to plan for the future. If you go to the boulevard on a hot day, you can smell the future .
Pollution and raw sewage are a threat to every man, woman and child in Oriental Negros. It does not matter if you are rich or poor; disease is an equal opportunity killer. We need to work together for the survival of this beautiful city.
Be an Everyday Hero. Stop pollution; get your septic tank pumped. Get familiar with the mayors new clean water program. You will never know whose life your might save. It could be your own or even your child’s.
You will never see me standing beside the road peeing. It is not because I am afraid someone will peek and see all those stories about American men are not true. I do not pee for one reason… I LOVE THE PHILIPPINES. Urine is pollution. Urinating in public is unhealthy for all living things.
The average American urinates in public only 8 times a year. This is with good reason. In America this activity can be a very serious crime. It can be classified as a “sex” crime. This would require the peeing “criminal” to register with police wherever he went.
My objection is for health reasons alone. Everyday approximately 75,469 gallons of human urine pollutes our beautiful city. That is 2.6 MILLION gallons of pee a month. How can that be good for the health of each of us?
I am not political. It is not my place as a guest here to be involved in local or national politics. But I attended an open meeting of the mayor as he presented a program to clean-up pollution. I was impressed with the professional presentation and the comprehensive plan. Currently the water table is not polluted but that will not stay that way if we neglect to plan for the future. If you go to the boulevard on a hot day, you can smell the future .
Pollution and raw sewage are a threat to every man, woman and child in Oriental Negros. It does not matter if you are rich or poor; disease is an equal opportunity killer. We need to work together for the survival of this beautiful city.
Be an Everyday Hero. Stop pollution; get your septic tank pumped. Get familiar with the mayors new clean water program. You will never know whose life your might save. It could be your own or even your child’s.
IGNORANCE
I was only a fresh faced fifteen year old high school student. I can still remember her name, Miding Miraflor. I was in love. Not some sweaty lust but pure innocent adoration. For me she was the very essence of beauty. Around five foot two or three, she had long silky raven black hair. Her voice was soft and her eyes flashed with intelligence and humor. With flawlessly cinnamon brown skin, she had delicate features that would make angels flush with envy.
My love was pure and innocent. I dreamt of running my fingers through her soft hair. Holding her close, I wanted to feel the gentle touch of her fingers on my cheek. I ached to have her look at me, to see me. But that was not to be. She had a boyfirnd and barely knew I was alive.
The only person who might have suspected my love was her brother, Fausto. He even stole one of her senior pictures and gave it to me. But even he could not suspect the depth of my infatuation. He did not know how often I lay in my moonlit bedroom gazing at her picture with tears filling my eyes. He never knew how my chest ached from the hole her absence left in my heart.
One day I asked him innocently, “What nationality are you?” I barely knew there was a place called the Philippines, much less what the people looked like. My naiveté and ignorance were boundless. With a burst of raw anger that literally caused me to step back in shock, Fausto said, “American! Why?” His eyes burned with anger. It was years before I understood why he was so angry, all I did know was I had asked the wrong question.
For me the question was a simple desire to know the source of his sister’s incomparable beauty. For him the question was the prelude to prejudice, bigotry and pain. There was a single question but two very different frames of reference, two different life experiences.
Now some 52 years later I find myself again stumbling around asking questions and making statements; not always understanding the ramifications or the responses. I ask you to be patient with me and to know there is no ugliness in my heart, just ignorance.
My love was pure and innocent. I dreamt of running my fingers through her soft hair. Holding her close, I wanted to feel the gentle touch of her fingers on my cheek. I ached to have her look at me, to see me. But that was not to be. She had a boyfirnd and barely knew I was alive.
The only person who might have suspected my love was her brother, Fausto. He even stole one of her senior pictures and gave it to me. But even he could not suspect the depth of my infatuation. He did not know how often I lay in my moonlit bedroom gazing at her picture with tears filling my eyes. He never knew how my chest ached from the hole her absence left in my heart.
One day I asked him innocently, “What nationality are you?” I barely knew there was a place called the Philippines, much less what the people looked like. My naiveté and ignorance were boundless. With a burst of raw anger that literally caused me to step back in shock, Fausto said, “American! Why?” His eyes burned with anger. It was years before I understood why he was so angry, all I did know was I had asked the wrong question.
For me the question was a simple desire to know the source of his sister’s incomparable beauty. For him the question was the prelude to prejudice, bigotry and pain. There was a single question but two very different frames of reference, two different life experiences.
Now some 52 years later I find myself again stumbling around asking questions and making statements; not always understanding the ramifications or the responses. I ask you to be patient with me and to know there is no ugliness in my heart, just ignorance.
PERSPECTIVE
A very nice lady sent me a copy of a newspaper column by a British journalist named Matthew Sutherland. Seems Mr. Sutherland is a long time resident here. He wrote a humorous column about life for expatriates in the Philippines. He talked about the uniqueness of Filipino names, eating balut, and even other Pinoy eating habits. I found it entertaining, even educational. She must really like his writing as the column was ten years old. She suggested I might do something similar in my column.
I told her I could not write that kind of column. It would be easy to find humor in the differences between our cultures but writing about it would be inappropriate. You are my host; I am your guest. As your guest I do not make fun of your culture. I do not criticize this country or its people. The Philippine people have treated me well. They have been excellent hosts. I want to be a good guest. If I do not like life here I can always go back to America.
Everyday people, expatiates and Filipinos, sit around and complain about the things they see wrong here. I even had one Filipino apologize for the graft and corruption in his country. You need a little perspective. The problems you face here are not unique to the Philippines. Every country had had them or has them now.
There was an American TV show called the “Untouchables”. The show was based on a group of historically real “honest” policemen. Why was this so unusual? At that time almost all policemen, judges and politicians, in America, were crooks or on the payroll of a crook. There are those that say one of your Philippine Presidential elections was “bought”. Do not know if that is true but I do know American President Kennedy bought his Presidential election. He even joked about it later saying his father refused to pay for a landslide victory. Dishonesty and greed are human sins NOT Pinoy traits. Like other countries you will solve your problems and you will solve them the Pinoy way.
There are a lot of very intelligent Filipinos working hard to make this a better country. These patriots know the problems and the possible solutions far better than I. As I told my friend Dindo Generoso, who is constantly trying to improve conditions here in Dumaguete, I may not know how to solve these problems, but I will hold your coat while you do. My role in the Philippines is to be a good guest, respect and honor my host and not create more problems. I hope I am doing that.
I told her I could not write that kind of column. It would be easy to find humor in the differences between our cultures but writing about it would be inappropriate. You are my host; I am your guest. As your guest I do not make fun of your culture. I do not criticize this country or its people. The Philippine people have treated me well. They have been excellent hosts. I want to be a good guest. If I do not like life here I can always go back to America.
Everyday people, expatiates and Filipinos, sit around and complain about the things they see wrong here. I even had one Filipino apologize for the graft and corruption in his country. You need a little perspective. The problems you face here are not unique to the Philippines. Every country had had them or has them now.
There was an American TV show called the “Untouchables”. The show was based on a group of historically real “honest” policemen. Why was this so unusual? At that time almost all policemen, judges and politicians, in America, were crooks or on the payroll of a crook. There are those that say one of your Philippine Presidential elections was “bought”. Do not know if that is true but I do know American President Kennedy bought his Presidential election. He even joked about it later saying his father refused to pay for a landslide victory. Dishonesty and greed are human sins NOT Pinoy traits. Like other countries you will solve your problems and you will solve them the Pinoy way.
There are a lot of very intelligent Filipinos working hard to make this a better country. These patriots know the problems and the possible solutions far better than I. As I told my friend Dindo Generoso, who is constantly trying to improve conditions here in Dumaguete, I may not know how to solve these problems, but I will hold your coat while you do. My role in the Philippines is to be a good guest, respect and honor my host and not create more problems. I hope I am doing that.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
PURE SIMPLE LOVE
I was at Mass. When we stood to sing, I saw a little seven year old girl about three rows in front of me. She had the distinctive features of a Down Syndrome child. I was overwhelmed with a sudden sense of sadness. I felt so sorry for her, not because she as likely to die before her twentieth birthday. I felt sad because here was a beautiful innocent child that would miss so much of life. She would probably never have a boyfriend. Never know the thrill of her first romantic kiss. She would never be married or know the full joy of motherhood. As I stood there feeling sorry for her, she looked up at her father beside her. As he gazes down at her they smiled and her tiny hand slid into his. I suddenly felt sorry for myself. I would never know the depth of pure simple love that they shared at that moment.
God gives us challenges; He gives us love in strange ways.
The other day a nice Filipina lady told me about little Kate Lozada. She is only seven months old but already she had adult size problems. Problems that can kill this sweet tiny little baby. You see little Kate has a congenital heart defect. If she does not get an operation soon she will not survive. Her mother works in the pharmacy at Silliman University Medical Center but just can not afford the expensive surgery. She is forced to sit helplessly by and watch her tiny innocent baby die a little each day. In desperation she has appealed to every charitable organization she could find. Only to be turned down. My friend asked me to see if I could help. I told her I would try.
I took all the information I had to some friends who regularly do charity medical work. They were not too optimistic. The operation is VERY expensive, around 500,000 pesos. Also it is highly likely the baby will be retarded and has a limited life expectancy. Possibly that is why the charitable organizations turned her down. I admit, here I get little angry. People claim to be against abortion, the killing of a fetus, but are perfectly willing to let a baby die when it could be saved, merely because “it won’t live long anyway”. I can not help but think of that sweet little girl in the church and how much love her father would never have gotten had she died. How much pain her loss would have brought to her family.
To those Everyday Heroes that read my column. Those who want to help as I do, even though my help is meager compared to the need. The mother has established a trust bank account for contributions, the pediatrician is Dr Glenda N. Nuico and the mother can be contracted at 09173141942.
God gives us challenges; He gives us love in strange ways.
The other day a nice Filipina lady told me about little Kate Lozada. She is only seven months old but already she had adult size problems. Problems that can kill this sweet tiny little baby. You see little Kate has a congenital heart defect. If she does not get an operation soon she will not survive. Her mother works in the pharmacy at Silliman University Medical Center but just can not afford the expensive surgery. She is forced to sit helplessly by and watch her tiny innocent baby die a little each day. In desperation she has appealed to every charitable organization she could find. Only to be turned down. My friend asked me to see if I could help. I told her I would try.
I took all the information I had to some friends who regularly do charity medical work. They were not too optimistic. The operation is VERY expensive, around 500,000 pesos. Also it is highly likely the baby will be retarded and has a limited life expectancy. Possibly that is why the charitable organizations turned her down. I admit, here I get little angry. People claim to be against abortion, the killing of a fetus, but are perfectly willing to let a baby die when it could be saved, merely because “it won’t live long anyway”. I can not help but think of that sweet little girl in the church and how much love her father would never have gotten had she died. How much pain her loss would have brought to her family.
To those Everyday Heroes that read my column. Those who want to help as I do, even though my help is meager compared to the need. The mother has established a trust bank account for contributions, the pediatrician is Dr Glenda N. Nuico and the mother can be contracted at 09173141942.
UGLY FOREIGNER
I went to a local store to buy some playing cards. The clerk, seeing I was foreigner, picked up the “girlie” cards. I bought another style.
The street vendor who sells sunglasses and watches always brings out the pornography and Viagra whenever he sees a foreigner.
Four Filipinos were discussing a Cebu massage parlor that supposedly gave more than massages. Each admitted they had never tried the “extras”. They all turned and looked at me. They were disappointed the foreigner had never tried them either.
Let’s face the truth; foreigners do no have a great reputation here in the Philippines. Everyone talks about the drunken driving foreigner who kills Filipinos. You hear about the ugly foreigner who cavorts with prostitutes, or molests children, or rapes women. Sadly sometimes these stories are even true.
Let me tell you about the “ugly” foreigners I have met here in Dumaguete.
There is Jack. He and his Filipina wife run an orphanage. They provide a home, food, clothes and even an education for Filipino children who have nothing.
How about Joe, he fell in love with a Filipina. You might be shocked to find out; he never touched her until after they were married.
There is Tom, who along with his Filipino brothers spends his weekends providing free medical and dental services to those who can not afford it.
Now there is George who along with two other “ugly” foreigners supports twenty-three Filipino students. They will have an education thanks to those ugly foreigners.
Then there is Bill. He is currently working trying to help battered women. He has done so many things from trying to help Emergency Medical Team save lives to lecturing on the dangers of AIDs.
I could list many more people just like these. You may not like those “idiot” foreigners, but I am pretty proud of them.
So the next time you hear about some ugly foreigner, there are at least fifty more that are not so ugly. In fact many of those foreigners are very nice people.
The street vendor who sells sunglasses and watches always brings out the pornography and Viagra whenever he sees a foreigner.
Four Filipinos were discussing a Cebu massage parlor that supposedly gave more than massages. Each admitted they had never tried the “extras”. They all turned and looked at me. They were disappointed the foreigner had never tried them either.
Let’s face the truth; foreigners do no have a great reputation here in the Philippines. Everyone talks about the drunken driving foreigner who kills Filipinos. You hear about the ugly foreigner who cavorts with prostitutes, or molests children, or rapes women. Sadly sometimes these stories are even true.
Let me tell you about the “ugly” foreigners I have met here in Dumaguete.
There is Jack. He and his Filipina wife run an orphanage. They provide a home, food, clothes and even an education for Filipino children who have nothing.
How about Joe, he fell in love with a Filipina. You might be shocked to find out; he never touched her until after they were married.
There is Tom, who along with his Filipino brothers spends his weekends providing free medical and dental services to those who can not afford it.
Now there is George who along with two other “ugly” foreigners supports twenty-three Filipino students. They will have an education thanks to those ugly foreigners.
Then there is Bill. He is currently working trying to help battered women. He has done so many things from trying to help Emergency Medical Team save lives to lecturing on the dangers of AIDs.
I could list many more people just like these. You may not like those “idiot” foreigners, but I am pretty proud of them.
So the next time you hear about some ugly foreigner, there are at least fifty more that are not so ugly. In fact many of those foreigners are very nice people.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
DESPERATION
I have fought in two wars. I have jumped from airplanes and climbed mountains. I have faced poisonous snakes and vicious jungle animals. The other day a young Filipina almost made me cry.
I came back to my apartment with an arm load of books. A little girl who works in nearby business asked me if she might borrow a book to read. I told her rather than loan her a book, I would take her to Hypermart and let her pick out her own books.
I fully expected her to select romance novels or some other escapist entertainment reading. I was shocked to see her pick out huge school books. These massive tomes were on geology, physics and math. It became obvious she was desperately trying to educate herself. The vision of her studying these huge books in a vain attempt to change her fate still moves me.
I am currently putting six people through school. Seven if you count my wife. This is not much; I know others who are doing much more. I know three Americans who are paying the tuition on twenty-three students. They are not the only ones.
The city of Dumaguete has a program to educate almost two hundred “street” children. They want to give these children a chance to break the yoke of poverty. In addition to an education the city wants them to get at least one good meal each day. Unless these children are properly nourished they can never reach their full potential.
As with most government projects, they are short of funds. The children need uniforms, books and supplies as well as food. Seeing the need, one of the nicest ladies I know has stepped forward. Negros Chronicles own “Mam Le Le”. She is, as always, hard at work trying to gather support to fill the need. A veteran of Dumaguete’s Habitat for Humanity, she knows that a hand up is better than a hand out.
She is my “EVERYDAY HERO”.
I came back to my apartment with an arm load of books. A little girl who works in nearby business asked me if she might borrow a book to read. I told her rather than loan her a book, I would take her to Hypermart and let her pick out her own books.
I fully expected her to select romance novels or some other escapist entertainment reading. I was shocked to see her pick out huge school books. These massive tomes were on geology, physics and math. It became obvious she was desperately trying to educate herself. The vision of her studying these huge books in a vain attempt to change her fate still moves me.
I am currently putting six people through school. Seven if you count my wife. This is not much; I know others who are doing much more. I know three Americans who are paying the tuition on twenty-three students. They are not the only ones.
The city of Dumaguete has a program to educate almost two hundred “street” children. They want to give these children a chance to break the yoke of poverty. In addition to an education the city wants them to get at least one good meal each day. Unless these children are properly nourished they can never reach their full potential.
As with most government projects, they are short of funds. The children need uniforms, books and supplies as well as food. Seeing the need, one of the nicest ladies I know has stepped forward. Negros Chronicles own “Mam Le Le”. She is, as always, hard at work trying to gather support to fill the need. A veteran of Dumaguete’s Habitat for Humanity, she knows that a hand up is better than a hand out.
She is my “EVERYDAY HERO”.
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