My Philippines!

My country is on the verge of changing colors.  By June 30, the Aquino yellow will be the tall order of the day.  Well, yellow is not exactly my favorite color.  I find it too bright or too flashy.  But it is the color of the sun.  And I like it when the world is shiny.  Makes me feel that life is beautiful and grand and exciting.

Well, so much for wishful thinking…

Reality check:  There is much to be done!

But I am not about to enumerate all the grievances here. I am done with that. Twenty-five years or something after the peaceful revolution at EDSA, there are a mountain of desires left wanting. I had believed then that when I do my part, my Philippines would be a better country to live in. Alas! That is not so! My fellow Filipinos had deemed it better to serve themselves. The result? A million more poor suffering and dying by the hour, clinging to that hope that the life given them was one to be nourished and cherished, even if their paradise is infested with roaches and rats.

I am tired!  The other day, I was given a ticket for reckless driving.  I was just too exhausted to defend myself.  The traffic at EDSA was horrendous.  I thought I could escape the jam by taking the long route way back via Roxas Boulevard.  Sigh! It was even more infuriating because, I learned later, there was an event at the old Metropolitan Theater.  They were reopening the theater. So that was why there were so many higantes at the MET gates. When I got to Quezon Avenue and Commonwealth, the traffic status had not changed.  Neither at Katipunan. And I was apprehended there for stopping abruptly and being at the wrong lane in a U-turn.  With the traffic congestion and my own physical exhaustion, I deemed it wise not to argue with the enforcer.  The only consolation I had in this experience is at least I know how it feels to have a road ticket.

I tell my girls every now and then that the Philippines is our home, our base, our headquarters.  I tell them about the God-given natural resources that other countries are not blessed with.  The beaches, the coconut trees, the pristine islands, the corals, the deep… there is so much to be thankful for.  But the people and poverty, to borrow that old Greek adage, it seems that beauty exists hand in hand with doom.

I pray not.  I do hope that when the sun rises on the morrow of June 30, it will be another blessed day for the people, a blessed day for the poor to know what life is truly.

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