(19 April 2009)
View from hotel room window.
(Day of Valor)
The taciturn Bengali asked me what “Baguio” meant and I couldn’t answer so I asked the gentleman that served our food. I hid my ignorance by being ”pa-cute” and said aloud that my history teachers would kill me, and sure enough, everyone in the table laughed.
In another occasion, the pretty Burmese girl asked me about the Bataan Death March during World War II and again, I couldn’t give a satisfactory answer. I was so disappointed with myself, I didn’t bother making pa-cute.
I recently visited a beautiful, rich country, whose citizens are simply brimming with pride over their heritage. I got a sense of how much they loved their country by how much they knew of its history. I felt guilt, perhaps, shame, too, because I now realize that I might have taken my country, my beloved Philippines, for granted.
It’s true what some people say, only when in distant shores would one truly appreciate one’s country. The beatiful, rich country would have been perfect were it not for the hotel concierge that had uttered a racist remark against me (another post, perhaps). The episode got me thinking — the beautiful, rich country had beautiful warm people, but really, there is no place like home.
(Manila, Manila, I will keep coming back to you, my Manila…)
Aherm…
And so I promised myself, when I get back, I’ll love my beloved Philippines more (I’ll discover what that means as I go along).
But for starters, I’ll try to read up on the Bataan Death March and honor the prisoners of war, Filipinos and non-Filipinos, who perished.
In April 1942, the US-Filipino forces surrendered the Bataan Peninsula to the Japanese. On April 9, around 75,000 Filipino and American POWs were forced to walk around 90 kilometers from Mariveles, Bataan to San Fernando, Pampanga, and were then transported by train to Camp O’ Donnell in Capas, Tarlac. Only around 55,000 survived. The rest either escaped or died on the way due to dehydration, starvation, disease, abuse and other manner of atrocities committed by the then enemy.
(For more: http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/55717/Bataan-Death-March)
Just before 2008 closed, I was feeling saddest so I went to the happiest place on earth. (Actually, the trip was planned by good friends way before I felt saddest. At any rate…)
We missed the Golden Mickeys, but we caught the wonderful and surprisingly satisfying PhilharMagic.
For fifteen minutes, one could feel like a kid again. One (or just the ridiculously sad) could even shed a tear or two as Aladdin sings to Jasmine and promises to show her the world.
The fireworks at the end did not disappoint. We were unexpectedly moved. (Or, are we truly getting old?) Failed to get a photo of that. But, I do have a not-so-good one of Main St. after the show…
Didn’t like myself too much when I was there. Didn’t like myself too much for most of our stay in HK. I was in an (unknown, uncharacteristic state?) and found almost everything annoying. In fact, when we alighted from the bus at Disney, I was quite nasty when I told my friend about a kababayan family: ”Look at that father, why is he still sitting there when his sons have been very excited about this trip? What? Is he waiting for us to give him directions?”
Later after the show, my friend and I went round and round the parking lot looking for our bus. For around twenty minutes we were doing the rounds. Around thirty buses became four. And just before I totally lost my cool, a man went down from an unfamiliar bus and called us, his words, in our language, like salvation: “Miss, kayo yung kasama namin sa bus kaninang umaga, di ba? Dito tayo ngayon.” (Miss, we were together in the bus earlier, right? We take this bus tonight.)
We (or I?) could kiss him, shower him with gifts, drive the bus for him, but since we (I) couldn’t, my friend and I just thanked him and his family as they got off at their hotel. So to our now dear kababayans, who stayed at the Royal Prince HK sometime in early December last year, this girl apologizes. May the new year bring you more blessings and may you stay in good health.
 | jordandale on “One Winged Angels… |
