I am afraid that by writing the article below, I have become a part of the ever-growing number of people who sling mud at the government, complain about our current state, but do nothing to make things better. To rationalize what I’ve done, I could say that keeping mum would have been worse. But deep down, I know that merely speaking up does not qualify as doing something significant. Someday I hope to write again, of doing more than just talk & complain.
A year ago, I wrote that despite all these country’s problems, I am Happy to be Pinoy (Youngblood, PDI, Oct.9). A year and a fire after, unbelievably, I still am. Perhaps that’s another reason why I wrote all these, not only to vent, but more importantly to ask for those who wield the power, to please not take away any more from my joy & hope reserves.
Submitted this article this morning. Hope PDI publishes it...
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Last month, I came home at the sight of our house on fire. Until now I cannot find the perfect word to describe how I felt that night. Surreal would come closest.
For 30 years, my parents have lived in that house. I grew up in it, was potty-trained in it, labored for hours on end studying in it; cried, celebrated, stared into the busy streets while in it. And now, it’s gone. There are days when I wake up and I still find myself in my old room. The green walls, the stiff bed…and then I’d have to remind myself that it’s unreal. It’s all gone now.
I did not even get to cry on that night. Crying was a show of despair, hopelessness, sadness. I was beyond all those.
There were fire-trucks all over the street. As my friend Dep and I hurried towards the building, my mom’s friend snatched me into their house to spare me from having to watch the horrific event. Even as I sat in their living room, I knew what was going on. Regi, my boyfriend kept calling me to comfort me. But I was too numb to respond. For in my head, the fires raged--eating up everything I held special in my room, and everything my parents have worked for more than 30 years.
So this is how it feels to be let down. That night, I felt like I was one with the world. Suddenly, I too had a painful story to tell.
I can’t really say which was sadder: seeing our house burn down, or knowing that it could have been stopped. Our unit was farthest from the house where an LPG tank supposedly, leaked. There were a few minutes when my parents just stood and stared at our burning house; beside them were the firemen, who did just that—stood and stared.
It would’ve been a funny scene had it been a comedy flick.
We were furious at those firemen. How could they have let this happen, when our house was only 15 minutes away from the fire station? Why didn’t they have the proper gear—masks, hard caps, hand-held radio, ladders?!? It was stupid. When it came to being equipped, I would’ve made a better fireman than them.
But as the fires died down, so did our fury. It was useless to get angry at those firemen. For they too, like us, were victims that night. With clearer heads, my parents even apologized to Captain Samson for blowing their tops off. He said he understood. And he too was sad (an understatement, I suppose) at the fact that they were poorly-equipped to stop the fire. When it came to doing good, they tried mighty hard. One of his men even got injured doing his job. Another, (SFO2 Renier Almjuela) was even kind enough to return the videocam he retrieved from our house. See, it’s not all horror stories when it came to firemen.
Now, we’re renting a unit in the opposite building. My parents are still busy fixing the requirements for the insurance, talking with the building administration about how to go about rehabilitating the place. My brother still labors on which electronic equipment can still be used. Ate Yolly has been working hard to make the rented unit as homey as possible. So you see, when your house burns down, it doesn’t just end there, more work follows.
But in every step of the way, there were friends who made things easier for us. Until now, it still feels a bit weird receiving…donations--to be suddenly, on the receiving end. I remember how I used to complain to God that whenever my bank account reaches a certain figure, someone amazingly needs ‘financial augmentation’ right at the same day. But after this fire, after learning how to accept and thank people for what they have generously offered us with, I have realized the true meaning of the saying: It is better to give than to receive. It was, and still is an utmost humbling experience.
Despite all the goodness my family and I have received, I sometimes still ask God, ‘How could You have let this happen? Where were You when our house was on fire? As I said in an email thanking all my friends who have extended their help: To this day, I still don’t know what His master plan is. Maybe that’s why they call it a test of faith. But the best answer I got so far was from my best friend, Maui: If it was hard for you to see God’s face when your house was on fire, I hope it’s easier for you to see Him now, in the faces of everyone who’s here to help you get through this.
There are so many people to thank. If I were to list them all down, it would take me a day or two. Yes, it may be hard to know exactly how God will reveal His plans for now. I could wait for that; for after all, who am I to rush God and command Him to do something for me, now, fast! There is comfort in believing that in His time, things will fall into their proper places.
But I would like to throw the same question back at the government. How could you have let this happen?
I could go on and take the bitter stance of blaming the government--but that would be a futile exercise of venting my anger. Instead, I would like to enjoin all government officials, all policy makers, everyone who’s on Juan dela Cruz’s payroll to please, please have a look around your public domains. It wouldn’t hurt to have some concern for your constituents’ living conditions. Look at how our public hospitals have been reduced to such a sorry state. Please see how our public schools have become unbelievably overcrowded. Look at how our streets still get flooded with the littlest of rain. Maybe then it would be easier for you to have a hint of guilt when you feel like dipping your hands into our public funds. Oh, and please, when I talk about the government, I talk about the opposition as well. Ever heard of the saying--he who hasn’t sinned, cast the first stone? Instead of poking holes at this government, have you offered some viable and logical solutions? And what have you done to make things better for your people again?
The thing is, while you all hold your catfights--be it in congress or through the local media, this country’s problems continue to rage on. This may feel off-tangent from my sentiments regarding the fire, but in essence, I write of the same things—of falling victim to undesirable circumstances, and of being failed by a higher authority. No, I am not talking about God. I’m talking about the government.
I am not saying that the government should provide the panacea to this nation’s problems. What I would like to say is that the government, at the very least, should no longer be a part of THE problem. Quit fighting and start putting out some fire.
