A Comment to David H. Harwell’s A Love Letter to the Filipino; to Kevin Lake and to the “Live A Simple Life In The Philippines” nuts.

(photo courtesy of hotpasta)
(photo courtesy of hotpasta)
(photo courtesy of hotpasta)

Have you ever lived in the Philippines long enough to say such things?

Have you ever experienced real poverty for years to the point that you cannot see any hope, slept with empty stomach, watched your parents struggle for food to feed the family?

Have you ever been employed in Philippine public offices, witnessed and was a victim of corruption? Have you ever worked so hard and got underpaid, exploited, discriminated and judged according on your appearance?

Have you ever experienced where you want to be a doctor, but your parents cannot afford to send you to the university and nobody cares about your goddamn future plans specially the government? Have you ever starved and stared on rich-brat kids engrossing his greed for hotdogs and slurpee? Have you ever been robbed and the authority care nothing about it,but to fill you up with promises and red tapes?

Do you  know the meaning of injustice, corruption, political dynasty, hopelessness, malnourishment, unemployment, pollution, crimes, muslim rebels, terrorism, corporate cannibalism, oligarchy, illiteracy, space between rich and poor, colonial mentality, crab mentality, hunger, misery, disease, hypocrisy?

I am sure you didn’t experience such things. You’ve been favored, grown and raised with good education, good nutrition and your government cares about you when your wisdom tooth was popping out.

You have a monthly pension, properties, a bank account/s, you’ve seen many things in the world, you can live, have a food on your plate even if you do not go to work everyday. You can do what you want, what your heart dictates you. You are not like most of us who witnessed the ruthlessness of underground Philippines.

Now try to raise your kids planting kamote in the Philippines and let’s see what will happen. Try to send your kids to the University by selling fish in the market and let’s see what will happen.

Now, what about me and those with the same shoes as mine?

Well, about me, I bore that hardship in life, poverty ate my heart out, stole my golden path. I was slaved in the grim cold shadow of poverty. Condemned from the bounty of life, health care, happy childhood and good education. That’s why I became a rebel to my own poverty-stricken homeland where worms from cans of hell are helpless.

I traveled alone to find remedy, find a good life, a solution, an answer to my questions. I tried to forget all the infernal traumatic past life in the Philippines, injustice, corruption, political dynasty, hopelessness, malnourishment, unemployment, pollution, crimes, Muslim rebels, terrorism, corporate cannibalism, oligarchy, illiterateness, space between rich and poor, colonial mentality, crab mentality, hunger, misery, disease, hypocrisy.

I left the Philippines and live in foreign land called Oz, I finally found what I am looking.

“What hurts me most is poverty, and that’s what led me to become a rebel,” ~ Hugo Chavez

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