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16 May 2011

I am a Filipino.

Warm tears keep trekking down my face once it started. I tried in vain to stop them from falling. It was the first time I felt a sense of awareness or enlightenment; but instead of feeling pride from the wisdom I felt, I can only feel pain. It hurts me to realize that I have been a lukewarm Filipino my whole life. I cannot blame this from my environment --- always being exposed to western brands of clothing or eating habits or paradigms, movies, songs and a lot of other things --- because I know I always have a choice. A choice to be Filipino and to show to others that I'm proud to be one.
Never was there a day was I ever guilty of choosing something American over something Filipino-made. I remember I had an argument with my sister a long time ago, about what was better to snack on --- potato chips over puto kutsinta (or was it palitaw?). I felt good I won that fight, but now I feel ashamed thinking back.

I used to think that just because US and all the other 1st world countries are progressive because they are better, and that my own nation sucks because we are still underdeveloped. So many people from all over the world has been proud of what the country had to offer --- abundant natural resources, hospitable and God-fearing people and a government that opens its arms to all kinds of trade. The same reasons which have been abused by Filipinos and by other people. And that made me feel tired, exhausted. I thought that there is no hope for my country from the graft and corruption of the government, poverty and illiteracy for a big chunk of my country men, and from people like me who are lukewarm. The same people who stand back and do nothing but talk back and complain about the situation of the Philippines, thinking that they could only help by discussing the problems and dissecting the causes and babbling about grand ideas without even taking a step to really helping the country. I am one of them.

But I do not want to be anymore. I want say that --- I was one of them --- in the future. So I can share what my mistakes were and show to the others how and what I learned. Though I still need direction and guidance as I don't know where to even start... But I just want to be a better Filipino than I was for the most part of my life.

Forgive me if I'm also writing in English as I am more eloquent than in Filipino. It's not an excuse, but still I need to learn how to write (and speak) better Filipino language.


So, you might wonder when and where this all happened? This was last Sunday at Bread of Life service. I was already crying since the start of the praise & worship (first song, chorus). I can't even understand why. It was a miracle for me. No one touched me. No one was even really talking in front, but a group of musically inclined youths who shared their talents to lead the songs in the service. I cannot even say that what I felt was also universally felt by everyone in the congregation that time for both my seat mates were neither crying nor sobbing, like I was. I just couldn't describe the overwhelming feeling I had, the sense of enlightenment and feeling of burden all at the same time. The hunger I felt to hear more of the music and the sense of purpose.
Yet, I am scared. I am scared that I might fail. Oh dear Lord, please help me.

2 remarks:

Anonymous said...

Nice! It feels good reading something about wanting to be a better Filipino out of one's personal enlightenment. Keep it going, dahling lois! ♥

chiclois said...

thanks Oen! but I should not stop here, I know I have to do something --- I just don't know what exactly what that something is, yet. :(

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