Back to the life of an OFW
August 8, 2005 | 12:00am
Aquarter century ago, as a newly minted Harvard MBA and fresh out of a New York bank training program, I started my professional career as a junior expatriate on assignment in Hong Kong.
It was a heady time for an overseas posting. After the chilly winters of the US East Coast, I longed for the warmth of Asia’s climate and the excitement of its business environment. I was starting a new family, a new career... the possibilities seemed endless.
A quarter century later, starting this August, I hope to begin to wind down my professional career in an overseas job again, this time in Jakarta.
It isn’t quite as far away as New York is from Hong Kong, and after eight years back home in Manila, the distance to Indonesia is really only about air-miles and not cultural or ethnic differences. Then again, maybe these are just fortuitous concessions to my advanced age, when it’s more difficult to make adjustments and the endlessness of possibilities might just be limited to the number of grandchildren I hope to have.
As I’ve made the rounds of despedida parties, I’ve been struck by the uniformly favorable reviews that my decision to relocate has been getting. Everyone has been assuring me that it’s a great opportunity, Filipinos working in Jakarta are a highly-regarded professional lot, my wife and I will love the weather, the people, the shopping bargains, Bali and other tourist spots, and so on.
Even the language is cooperative – different from ours, true, but similar enough in its syntax and vocabulary to be a fairly easy study for Filipinos. I’ve been promised that I’ll be babbling away like a native speaker in six months’ time.
Most of all, I am solemnly congratulated – with a touch of envy – for being able to vote with my feet, walk away from everything that’s going on in our country today, and try my luck in a country that is so much like ours in some ways and yet so different – and much more promising – in other ways.
The similarities between countries are obvious – the tropical climate, the somnolent working habits, the Javanese attachment to getting along and saving face.
On the corruption index, Indonesia is, if anything, rated even higher than the Philippines. Then there are the disasters to match our own, whether the handiwork of nature (i.e. the recent tsunami) or manmade (i.e. the rebellions in outlier islands, the street riots in the ugly aftermath of the Asian financial crisis and consecutive political upheavals, the incipient jihadist movement).
And yet, at the same time, there are also the differences that are vital, and ones in which our much larger, more populous, and tolerantly Muslim neighbor seems to have the upper hand.
The blessing of vast oil reserves is one. The abundance of other natural resources is another. Even the corruption that goes on – perhaps because it is so institutionalized by now – has come to be generally accepted as additional grease necessary to turn the great wheels of business and politics.
At least you get results – unlike here, by comparison, where an entire airport terminal can be constructed – to the enrichment of numerous beneficiaries of graft across multiple administrations – and then closed to the user public, just like that.
Perhaps the greatest differences lie in recent history and the current state of political leadership in both countries.
By most accounts, the ascension of retired Gen. Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono to the presidency is deemed to be a major turning point towards a genuine Indonesian takeoff. He was a novice candidate who proved himself to be as adept at politicking as he was at military leadership, winning the popular vote by a wide margin as well as the enthusiastic endorsement of the western establishment.
Since taking office, he has hammered out a peace treaty with the Acehnese secessionists, filed numerous corruption cases against high-profile offenders, and embarked on a diplomatic offensive overseas including a recent state visit here. Comparisons to our very own FVR are tempting, but would perhaps be unfair to him, so early in his own presidential tenure.
Here at home, we continue to limp along under a presidency that, rightly or wrongly, will simply not go quietly into the night. Whatever one may think of her merits or demerits, one cannot help but admire the sheer gutsiness of the President’s resolve to hang on to her office at any and all costs.
I have lately taken to theorizing, to people who care to listen, that a major casualty of the martial law years – and a key reason behind a lot of the problems we face today – is the alienation of so many of our people from our political processes and institutions.
They do not care about the system because they do not believe they own it, and so they cannot be persuaded to put forth the kind of self-sacrifice that the system may demand especially in its most trying times. Whether the sacrifice is as minor as following traffic rules, or as major as paying additional taxes to help close a huge fiscal deficit, it is not easily vouchsafed by us.
The layman’s term for this malaise is, simply, lack of civic spirit. And if, as a result of the battle lines being drawn for and against the President, such civic spirit is eventually reclaimed and our people eventually reacquire ownership of their own governance, through a process that is likely to be protracted, difficult, perhaps even bloody – then, 20 or 30 years from now, that is what the historians will be writing about.
They will not be writing about PGMA or the anti-PGMA, cha-cha or jueteng or who knows what other momentary excitement stirred up the headlines. Instead, they will be writing about the undertow, the deep currents beneath the surface, and how these currents shifted like the tides as our people, day after painful day, slowly but surely learned the lessons they needed to learn.
As always, my hopes for this enterprise ultimately turn to the young, to the Mike Defensors and the Chise Escuderos, to the young men and women in the call centers and the NGOs and especially those who bravely carry our colors to jobs overseas. If my generation squandered its opportunities to make a difference, it will still be our privilege to act as placeholders until the new kids on the block come into their own.
Our friend, radio maven and advice columnist Emily Marcelo, introduced us some months ago to the culinary ministrations of Nilda Villarin, who runs an informal restaurant and catering service out of her newly-built house in Talisay, Batangas, just a stone’s throw from Taal Lake.
Aling Nilda boasts a secret recipe for sinaing na isda in a variety of species: tulingan, tawilis, guno, tilapia, maliputo, etc. The fish comes out fresh as the sparkling lake waters but spiced with the piquancy of tomatoes, garlic, and assorted other herbs. We were treated to these homemade delights together with inihaw na tilapia, eggplant salad with bagoong balayan, and platesful of piping hot rice.
If you want to continue feasting at home, Aling Nilda accepts orders by the palayok in various sizes and quantities. Call her at 0920-250-7496.
Readers can write the author at gbolivar1952@yahoo.com.
It was a heady time for an overseas posting. After the chilly winters of the US East Coast, I longed for the warmth of Asia’s climate and the excitement of its business environment. I was starting a new family, a new career... the possibilities seemed endless.
A quarter century later, starting this August, I hope to begin to wind down my professional career in an overseas job again, this time in Jakarta.
It isn’t quite as far away as New York is from Hong Kong, and after eight years back home in Manila, the distance to Indonesia is really only about air-miles and not cultural or ethnic differences. Then again, maybe these are just fortuitous concessions to my advanced age, when it’s more difficult to make adjustments and the endlessness of possibilities might just be limited to the number of grandchildren I hope to have.
Even the language is cooperative – different from ours, true, but similar enough in its syntax and vocabulary to be a fairly easy study for Filipinos. I’ve been promised that I’ll be babbling away like a native speaker in six months’ time.
Most of all, I am solemnly congratulated – with a touch of envy – for being able to vote with my feet, walk away from everything that’s going on in our country today, and try my luck in a country that is so much like ours in some ways and yet so different – and much more promising – in other ways.
On the corruption index, Indonesia is, if anything, rated even higher than the Philippines. Then there are the disasters to match our own, whether the handiwork of nature (i.e. the recent tsunami) or manmade (i.e. the rebellions in outlier islands, the street riots in the ugly aftermath of the Asian financial crisis and consecutive political upheavals, the incipient jihadist movement).
And yet, at the same time, there are also the differences that are vital, and ones in which our much larger, more populous, and tolerantly Muslim neighbor seems to have the upper hand.
The blessing of vast oil reserves is one. The abundance of other natural resources is another. Even the corruption that goes on – perhaps because it is so institutionalized by now – has come to be generally accepted as additional grease necessary to turn the great wheels of business and politics.
At least you get results – unlike here, by comparison, where an entire airport terminal can be constructed – to the enrichment of numerous beneficiaries of graft across multiple administrations – and then closed to the user public, just like that.
By most accounts, the ascension of retired Gen. Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono to the presidency is deemed to be a major turning point towards a genuine Indonesian takeoff. He was a novice candidate who proved himself to be as adept at politicking as he was at military leadership, winning the popular vote by a wide margin as well as the enthusiastic endorsement of the western establishment.
Since taking office, he has hammered out a peace treaty with the Acehnese secessionists, filed numerous corruption cases against high-profile offenders, and embarked on a diplomatic offensive overseas including a recent state visit here. Comparisons to our very own FVR are tempting, but would perhaps be unfair to him, so early in his own presidential tenure.
I have lately taken to theorizing, to people who care to listen, that a major casualty of the martial law years – and a key reason behind a lot of the problems we face today – is the alienation of so many of our people from our political processes and institutions.
They do not care about the system because they do not believe they own it, and so they cannot be persuaded to put forth the kind of self-sacrifice that the system may demand especially in its most trying times. Whether the sacrifice is as minor as following traffic rules, or as major as paying additional taxes to help close a huge fiscal deficit, it is not easily vouchsafed by us.
They will not be writing about PGMA or the anti-PGMA, cha-cha or jueteng or who knows what other momentary excitement stirred up the headlines. Instead, they will be writing about the undertow, the deep currents beneath the surface, and how these currents shifted like the tides as our people, day after painful day, slowly but surely learned the lessons they needed to learn.
As always, my hopes for this enterprise ultimately turn to the young, to the Mike Defensors and the Chise Escuderos, to the young men and women in the call centers and the NGOs and especially those who bravely carry our colors to jobs overseas. If my generation squandered its opportunities to make a difference, it will still be our privilege to act as placeholders until the new kids on the block come into their own.
Aling Nilda boasts a secret recipe for sinaing na isda in a variety of species: tulingan, tawilis, guno, tilapia, maliputo, etc. The fish comes out fresh as the sparkling lake waters but spiced with the piquancy of tomatoes, garlic, and assorted other herbs. We were treated to these homemade delights together with inihaw na tilapia, eggplant salad with bagoong balayan, and platesful of piping hot rice.
If you want to continue feasting at home, Aling Nilda accepts orders by the palayok in various sizes and quantities. Call her at 0920-250-7496.
BrandSpace Articles
<
>
