A Voter's Voice

These are very interesting times. The icon of Philippine democracy has died, but in her passing a country of passionate people has awakened.

Perhaps it is pre-election year, that is why everything is heightened. Politicians are everywhere, adding color to every major religious gathering in the country - from the blessing of the humongous El Shaddai building, to the Central Temple of the INC where the remains of their leader lie in state currently, to historic restaurants where shifts in the tectonic plates of political ambition have taken shape repeatedly.

I am a voter, and my vote is up for grabs to the best bidder. I will not accept money or any promise of position or power for my vote; instead, I will give my vote to he or she who will stand to fulfill everything that is taught the children in school.

That is, if they still teach children about honesty being the best policy (and not just a standard slumbook or Facebook answer to "what is your motto?"); if they still teach in Admin Law that "a public office is a public trust"; if they still hammer to history students the details of how a peaceful revolution that a united Filipino people put up won against a 20-year dictatorship (I am told by young friends that their knowledge of the EDSA revolution is vague and blurred); and how our parents promised that they will never let anyone squander our riches and curtail our freedom again.

So much has happened since my student days. I grew up and then learned to grow deaf to the nonstop exposés in the Senate that only seemed to indicate that in lieu of the crony-concentrated corruption during the Marcos era, people power only opened the floodgates of the national treasury to greed that permeated every level of government.

I stopped voting at some point. I forget when. I stopped caring. All politicians started to look alike to me. I decided to look away from the headlines and refrain from taking part in the battles waged there. I paid my taxes, worked in government, served in church, but I left it to others more inclined to fight head-on. I went to Edsa twice to topple undesirable presidents. After a while it became a futile exercise, a game of jumping from the frying pan into the fire, and I refused to be used anymore.

There are others like me, who pray for a better tomorrow for our country but feel they are so ordinary and actually have also become too jaded to really believe in genuine and lasting change.

But Cory died, and while mourning for her, my tears, and probably those from those who belong to the undecided, apathetic sector like me, awoke the hope that has been buried in me for a leadership that shows quiet dignity, simple bravery, and humble integrity.

Will history be kinder to us Filipinos now that we are hoping again, opening our hearts again, wearing yellow again? I do not know much about Noynoy Aquino, at least not to the extent that I would normally vote for him to the highest position of the land. BUT. I cannot deny that there seems to be divine interference in the turn of events. Ambitious people who have been jockeying, lobbying, and parading years into the elections were faced with true people power, and heard once more the voice of a people who have long suffered repeatedly under the abusive hands of a succession of disappointing leaders. Plans have to be radically changed now. Dreams have to be realigned.

The choice I want to make when I vote next year is a clear one - black or white, Ginebra or Tanduay, Spandau Ballet or Duran Duran - like in my younger days, KBL or UNIDO PDP Laban - red and blue, or yellow and green. All the other insignificant colors have to fade. All the other inferior choices have to give way.

It is my generation's time to shine. I have held back hope, and I have hidden my vote for so long. Next year, I want to confidently cast it. And I am praying really hard that the one whom I will vote for will not waste it.

I am a voter, and my vote is up "for sale" to the highest, mightiest, worthiest bidder.

My Ideas That Have Not (Yet) Seen Print

Since my last post, I had wanted to write about:

1. The Cory magic, and how I observed the week of mourning for her. I have some shots from the queue outside Manila Cathedral. Never found the time to write that piece.
2. The beauty of the City of Manila and how I want to clean it up. (I even have a blog title: My Giant Feather-Duster).
3. The presidentiables and the state of Philippine politics.
4. The worsening traffic problem and the undisciplined drivers of Metro Manila.
5. The things we learned in school that have yet to be applied in real life.
6. The moves to change the name of my alma mater, Manila Science High School, to Cory Aquino Science High School (CASHS?). We love Cory, but we love our name too. I'm looking for a way to talk to Mayor Lim. If you have suggestions and connections, do let me know. Thanks.

My thoughts are too scattered at the moment. I wrote this list down so I won't forget my ideas. If I don't get to write them, ask me and I'll share my thoughts with you when we see each other. Over coffee. Preferably at some beautiful place like Cafe by the Ruins in Baguio, or Bag o' Beans in Tagaytay.

I Had Coffee with Cory

My generation can sing "Tie a Yellow Ribbon" from memory. We can boast that we were able to enter Malacanang to gawk at Imelda's shoe and perfume collection; that we joined the authentic People Power Revolution; that our parents voted for Ninoy Aquino's widow, Mrs. Corazon Cojuangco Aquino, during the 1986 snap Presidential elections; and that we attended mass at Sto. Domingo celebrated by Cardinal Sin just to get a glimpse of her privileged daughter, Kris Aquino. Probably the latter is not something to boast about, really.

My generation is in mourning today, for former President Cory Aquino, Tita Cory to all of us, has passed away.

After 20 years of Marcos dictatorship, Mrs. Aquino represented at the time all of our hopes and dreams as a people. She was the David pitted against Goliath, and willingly sacrificed her private life to become a revolutionary President, Time's Woman of the Year, the Mother of Philippine Democracy, and now, the Saint of People Power.

She was not perfect. She had a family to take care of, controversial properties and unsatisfied employees just like everyone else. She had a daughter who broke her heart several times, a product of recessive genes probably, for I wonder how a heroic father and a saintly mother could produce such a character. But this is not about Kris.

Mrs. Aquino united the Philippines and brought out the best in each of us. Her actual resume, which the Shoe Lady mistakenly summarized into one word, "housewife", awed everyone, me included. She studied French and Math in college, and was a brilliant student. She willingly sold some of her inherited properties to finance her husband Ninoy's campaigns. She was the widow everyone tried to emulate. From pate-making to flower-painting, her skills went beyond leading bloodless revolutions and impressing the U.S. Congress.

I was in grade school when the EDSA Revolution happened, the event that saw Hollywood stars using the "L" sign, that stood for "Laban" ("Fight!) rather than "Loser" during our time, and swathed the country in yellow. I watched her much-applauded (live, not canned) speech before the U.S. Congress, barely a few months into her presidency. Mrs. Aquino had a natural rapport with her audience. She knew what to emphasize to whatever crowd she was addressing, and her sincerity and wit shone through. She could inject humor even in the most ironic situations. I always applauded her speeches, even when she was already retired and just making her appearances to lead the country against her erring predecessors.

When I was a senior in high school, one of my batchmates appeared on a TV show with her, and she was impressed by him. She asked him where he went to school, and he said, Manila Science High School. Then she, President, Heroine, Mother, visited our little school! Oh, how we shined the floors and rehearsed our songs. It was our single most important high school memory, even eclipsing the J-S Prom. She went even further to invite all 318 of us, including our teachers, to Malacanang Palace, for lunch. We walked slowly on the carpeted floors, stared at the chandeliers, and marveled at the food. We even got a souvenir each - a yellow mug that simply said, "I Had Coffee with Cory". Most of us have kept that mug.

"Write to me", Tita Cory told our batch. "Even after my term ends, I want to hear from you, I want to know what you have become, and what you are doing for our country," she said, although not exactly in those words. So I did write to her, and asked one of my uncles, her Times Street neighbor, to give it to her. I told her that I had become a lawyer and that she had inspired me to love my country and to put others first above my personal comfort. She did not reply, but it was enough for me that I had written it.

What has the country become after those golden days of Philippine democracy? What has become of that batch from Manila Science High School? What has become of me, whose ideas of freedom, democracy, and service were shaped by the legacy left behind by former Sen. Ninoy Aquino and his widow, former Pres. Cory Aquino?

The years have not been all that kind to us. We Filipinos have kept on repeating EDSA, as if its formula could again transform us into the world's bastion of democracy. Our high school batch has gone our different ways (although this year, efforts to support our alma mater have materialized). And I, I have become more jaded as the years have gone by.

Just as in life she had inspired us to do our best, Mrs. Aquino in her death reminds us to safeguard our freedom, to speak the truth, to live in faith, and to love unconditionally.

What will happen to the Philippines after she's gone? I end this tribute with some words from "As Time Goes By", allegedly one of her favorite songs, which we performed in Malacanang Palace (I was part of the Senior Choir) during our historic Coffee with Cory:

It's still the same old story
A fight for love and glory
A case of do or die
The world will always welcome lovers
As time goes by.

Rest in peace, Tita Cory, President. Mother. Hero.