Ripped September 20, 2006
I WAS fascinated by that story about the Filipinos who tried to break the Guinness record for the world’s biggest flag. In case you missed it in last Sunday’s Inquirer, the PG Tower Ministries International commissioned 10 seamstresses, two artists and 40 volunteers to make a Philippine flag that measured 200 by 100 meters and weighed 3.75 tons, and to unfurl it on a mountain in Nueva Vizcaya. It would have broken the record of the US flag which measures 77.7 meters by 153.9 meters and weighs 1,363 kg.
But the best-laid plots of mice and Filipinos oft go astray, and did in this case. The reason apparently the flag was to unfurl on a mountain in Nueva Vizcaya was that the authorities would not allow it to unfurl in UP Diliman. What reasons the authorities had for it, only they can say. Maybe they were afraid the students there might enrage Raul Gonzalez some more by running around in their birthday suits and at the end of it literally and figuratively hide behind the Philippine flag?
Alas, the mountain of Nueva Vizcaya did not cooperate. Furious winds tore up the upper part of the flag like they did the billowing sails of ships in days of yore as the flag was rolled down the mountain. In the end, as our photograph on Sunday’s front page graphically told, all the organizers had by way of souvenir was a ripped piece of giant cloth that might yet enter Guinness as the world’s classiest mess. The caption that leaped to my mind when I saw the picture was: “Tattered hopes and tattered dreams.”
I do commend the authors of this enterprise for showing initiative and ambition. Heaven knows those things are getting scarcer in this country than principles among its politicians. At least some people in this country can still dream big. Most others are just content to hop on to the nearest boat or plane, exchanging stethoscope for a nurse’s cap; whining beggars cannot be choosers.
But I was fascinated by the story because it pretty much told the story of our life. One of the organizers, Pastor Fred Merejilla, of course, interpreted it as God’s will: “That was inevitable. God wanted it to happen. It was seen all the way from heaven. If you noticed, the torn portion was shaped like a heart. God is trying to show us that He continues to love this country, and He showed this through this flag.”
My own interpretation is that if God had a hand in it, it was probably because He did not wish us to be embarrassed before the rest of the world. Or embarrassed some more, our officials already having done more than enough in that respect. If Tower Ministries had succeeded in unfurling the Philippine flag without a hitch and made it to Guinness, it would have been no small ironic commentary on our situation. We would have had the biggest flag in all the world while having the littlest loyalty to it in all the world.
Think about it: The one thing Filipinos are known for is lacking any strong ties to their country. Never mind the phenomenon of the current Diaspora, the massive exodus of Filipinos abroad looking for work or a new life -- that is merely the tip of the iceberg. The malady goes deeper. The Great Filipino Dream, I’ve always argued, is also the Great Filipino Tragedy. That dream is to live in America, and better still -- or worse still, depending on how you look at it -- get a green card. That goes for the Filipino elite as much as the Filipino poor. The reason the Filipino elite do not mind despoiling the country is that they can always emigrate to America, and often do. They own property there, their children study there. At the end of the day, or when everything turns sour in their own country, no small thanks to them, they can always live there.
Would a flag worthy of Guinness have made up for a people’s lack of loyalty to that flag? I don’t know. Maybe the symbol itself might help to spark the dying embers. The last time I saw an outpouring of nationalist sentiment and the flag being flaunted by Filipinos was during the 100th anniversary of Philippine Independence on June 12, 1998. But that was achingly short-lived, a sudden burst of pride that swiftly passed on to passivity, not unlike the fireworks that blazed forth that night and died after an hour or so.
More than likely, an oversized flag against a backdrop of undersized patriotic passions would have highlighted the one fundamental failing, or foible, of Filipinos, which is that we prefer porma (form) to practice, token to substance, ritual to life. We flagellate ourselves on Good Friday and feel free to rape and murder the rest of the year. We hear Mass and receive Holy Communion and feel free to lie, cheat and steal in public office. We go through the motions of holding elections and feel free to not count the votes.
It is not without irony itself that the Tower Ministries thought to undertake this project. If I recall my Bible, the folk of Babel once undertook to build a tower that would reach up to the skies. Heaven struck them down for their presumption, causing them to speak in many languages and thus unable to communicate with each other. I don’t know that the sin of the makers of this flag is pride, or indeed that there is any sin here at all. And in any case God struck this country down long before the flag was made, causing us to speak in many languages and thus unable to communicate with one another.
Who knows? Maybe God who has been known to move in mysterious ways just wanted to tell us in the language of metaphor: “Look, people, you’ve ripped your flag.”
* * *
Still reminding: The “Stop the Killings!” bar tour kicks off tomorrow, Thursday, Sept. 21, at 70s Bistro, 46 Anonas St., Quezon City. Bands playing: The Dawn, The Jerks, Sandwich, Sugarfree, Brownman Revival and Radioactive Sago.
http://opinion.inq7.net/inquireropinion/columns/view_article.php?article_id=21948
But the best-laid plots of mice and Filipinos oft go astray, and did in this case. The reason apparently the flag was to unfurl on a mountain in Nueva Vizcaya was that the authorities would not allow it to unfurl in UP Diliman. What reasons the authorities had for it, only they can say. Maybe they were afraid the students there might enrage Raul Gonzalez some more by running around in their birthday suits and at the end of it literally and figuratively hide behind the Philippine flag?
Alas, the mountain of Nueva Vizcaya did not cooperate. Furious winds tore up the upper part of the flag like they did the billowing sails of ships in days of yore as the flag was rolled down the mountain. In the end, as our photograph on Sunday’s front page graphically told, all the organizers had by way of souvenir was a ripped piece of giant cloth that might yet enter Guinness as the world’s classiest mess. The caption that leaped to my mind when I saw the picture was: “Tattered hopes and tattered dreams.”
I do commend the authors of this enterprise for showing initiative and ambition. Heaven knows those things are getting scarcer in this country than principles among its politicians. At least some people in this country can still dream big. Most others are just content to hop on to the nearest boat or plane, exchanging stethoscope for a nurse’s cap; whining beggars cannot be choosers.
But I was fascinated by the story because it pretty much told the story of our life. One of the organizers, Pastor Fred Merejilla, of course, interpreted it as God’s will: “That was inevitable. God wanted it to happen. It was seen all the way from heaven. If you noticed, the torn portion was shaped like a heart. God is trying to show us that He continues to love this country, and He showed this through this flag.”
My own interpretation is that if God had a hand in it, it was probably because He did not wish us to be embarrassed before the rest of the world. Or embarrassed some more, our officials already having done more than enough in that respect. If Tower Ministries had succeeded in unfurling the Philippine flag without a hitch and made it to Guinness, it would have been no small ironic commentary on our situation. We would have had the biggest flag in all the world while having the littlest loyalty to it in all the world.
Think about it: The one thing Filipinos are known for is lacking any strong ties to their country. Never mind the phenomenon of the current Diaspora, the massive exodus of Filipinos abroad looking for work or a new life -- that is merely the tip of the iceberg. The malady goes deeper. The Great Filipino Dream, I’ve always argued, is also the Great Filipino Tragedy. That dream is to live in America, and better still -- or worse still, depending on how you look at it -- get a green card. That goes for the Filipino elite as much as the Filipino poor. The reason the Filipino elite do not mind despoiling the country is that they can always emigrate to America, and often do. They own property there, their children study there. At the end of the day, or when everything turns sour in their own country, no small thanks to them, they can always live there.
Would a flag worthy of Guinness have made up for a people’s lack of loyalty to that flag? I don’t know. Maybe the symbol itself might help to spark the dying embers. The last time I saw an outpouring of nationalist sentiment and the flag being flaunted by Filipinos was during the 100th anniversary of Philippine Independence on June 12, 1998. But that was achingly short-lived, a sudden burst of pride that swiftly passed on to passivity, not unlike the fireworks that blazed forth that night and died after an hour or so.
More than likely, an oversized flag against a backdrop of undersized patriotic passions would have highlighted the one fundamental failing, or foible, of Filipinos, which is that we prefer porma (form) to practice, token to substance, ritual to life. We flagellate ourselves on Good Friday and feel free to rape and murder the rest of the year. We hear Mass and receive Holy Communion and feel free to lie, cheat and steal in public office. We go through the motions of holding elections and feel free to not count the votes.
It is not without irony itself that the Tower Ministries thought to undertake this project. If I recall my Bible, the folk of Babel once undertook to build a tower that would reach up to the skies. Heaven struck them down for their presumption, causing them to speak in many languages and thus unable to communicate with each other. I don’t know that the sin of the makers of this flag is pride, or indeed that there is any sin here at all. And in any case God struck this country down long before the flag was made, causing us to speak in many languages and thus unable to communicate with one another.
Who knows? Maybe God who has been known to move in mysterious ways just wanted to tell us in the language of metaphor: “Look, people, you’ve ripped your flag.”
* * *
Still reminding: The “Stop the Killings!” bar tour kicks off tomorrow, Thursday, Sept. 21, at 70s Bistro, 46 Anonas St., Quezon City. Bands playing: The Dawn, The Jerks, Sandwich, Sugarfree, Brownman Revival and Radioactive Sago.
http://opinion.inq7.net/inquireropinion/columns/view_article.php?article_id=21948
posted by dqfan06 @ 9:33 AM
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