Billboards, jigsaws, and a sense of self
BRUSSELS, Belgium — I find it far more chal-lenging to write here in Europe than to write when I am home. It seems that, in the Philippines, I always struggle to find something to write about; here the opposite is true. I don’t really know where to begin. Do I start with mentioning how during the week I spent in Dortmund, Germany I had to sleep in a school gymnasium with a hundred snorers? Or how at the moment I am writing from Brussels, Belgium, as I’m staying in a friend’s room in a warehouse where 17 young people from more than 10 European countries hold their place of residence? (Hint: there’s lots of intrigue.) Do I mention how good it feels to cross a street and be treated like a proper human being by the drivers behind the steering wheel and not just another obstacle on the road, or how walking and taking efficient public transportation to get from place to place is sweet relief compared to the horrors of the extended Metro Manila rush hour? Do I say anything about how lovely an afternoon becomes without gargantuan adverts violently intruding into your space and screaming “Look at me!” as they hang crucified on skeletal billboards with all the power of death behind them? I wonder if the people in power who allowed such a tragedy to occur have any idea of the mental harm these billboards cause to the thousands of human beings who must view them along EDSA every day. Could that gaudy display possibly have been motivated by something other than selfish profit? To see a country whore herself is revolting, especially if it happens to be the one you come from.
Europe has a certain power over me. Inside me there’s a part that urges the rest to find a way to live here and forget about the troubles that our nation faces. Its voice is quiet and insidious. In order not to be led astray, I consciously resist it. I know that my life’s work is to be done in the Philippines — of this I am certain — but my travels in Europe (Germany in particular) have brought me such great pleasure knowing that it is possible for human beings to actually live well. It is a comforting feeling that awakens within me a strong desire to live in such a society. I don’t have to look very far to find this society in the Philippines. It is all around us, waiting to be transformed. We too can learn to live well. Only right now we do it very badly. Feelings like this inspire me to do what begs to be accomplished, and much work must still be done before we can even come close to the standards set by more developed countries. What gives me hope is the knowledge that, knowingly or unknowingly, we all have a hand in shaping the country we live in; to think otherwise would be an insult to both our country and ourselves. Our role may be slight, but it is a role nonetheless. This responsibility makes me glad, as through it I come to the realization that I am not completely powerless in our troubled third world society — that I, too, can play my part. If I choose inaction, I give evil permission to flourish, and to do so would cause me to feel unworthy of being alive. I simply cannot allow it to happen and still consider myself a being of morality. Action must be taken. I do not have control over all things, but nothing is there to stop me from becoming the master of myself. Other than myself, that is.
About two years ago, when I was in Greece, I woke up in the middle of the night with a very distinct thought in my mind: that life is like a jigsaw puzzle, and everyone is given a piece to be responsible for. All we are capable of doing is placing it where we think it fits best and pray that the rest of the world does its part. Since then, I have slightly refined that thought. Finding a good place to put our puzzle piece is hard to determine if one is constantly flying solo. However, with the help of the people around us, we can all assist one another in assessing what goes where, which pieces fit well together, and so on. It’s an ongoing process and a hell of a lot of work, since the ground we are assembling the puzzle on heaves and shakes without rest and everyone has to constantly adjust his piece to keep it from shifting all over the place. With all this activity, people are bound to bump into each other from time to time. It can be difficult. This is why it’s a task, not fun and games. Are we ready to try our hand at assembling a pretty picture? If not now, then when? If ever, then we might as well get started.
