Heirs of The Blue-Eyed Son of Heaven*

[Notes : Seriously : did anyone really think there was ANYTHING at all scholarly or even halfway academic to back up whatever rantings and ravings we’ve been spewing here? We say this only because we want to assert beyond the shadow of a doubt that it would be a good joke to rely on any of these lines burned in the book of our life for guidance much less assurance, EXCEPT as written evidence of the random ejaculations (oratorically ha) of a distracted mind.  Very flatteringly, a batchmate has opined that we can sporadically pass these off as entertainment, thank you kind sir (and madam ); one well-wisher even calls it sometime therapy for her (maraming salamat tambien), the truth is, selfishly spilling our guts on electronic paper is our form of talk therapy, catharsis and electroshock cod liver oil (do they give that still to kids these days??? ), you are actually doing us a favor by humoring us and pretending that our tongue-in-cheek emails make sense… are we making any sense ???]   Dear batchmates and friends:    WE MUST HAVE been dropped at least once as an infant, sniffed too much airplane glue or licked more than the usual industrial – strength lead paint off our rusty crib (left by previous users KuyaTim & KuyaDonald), or maybe were left by Yaya too often, too close to the microwave oven / TV (same radiation), as in our advancing middle age we are still the ADHD, bipolar, dyslexic and hypersensitive / hypochondriac / allergic / multi-phobic adult child that we have always been in earlier decades.   We can’t sit still.  Our nanoseconds-long attention span rivals that of Fr Tchou’s capuchin monkey.  We sometimes wake up feeling we have two right hands or feet, which wouldn’t be so bad except that we are sometimes left-handed, we are either exuberantly joyous or suicidably depressing, and incredibly, we still come up with new allergies everyday. (May one be allergic to one’s own sweat, single-digit Celsius, fresh air and drinking water? )  We are sick of ailments that haven’t even been discovered. And everytime we conquer an old fear, a new one crops up right in its place.  Notwithstanding the positivity of double negatives, we came across in Yahoo! a new one to watch out for: phobophobia.  That’s right, the fear of being afraid.  Now THAT’s a cool new species for all those phobics out there… (dont forget: nothing to fear but fear itself, oo naman)                       **                    **                    **                    **   We’ve given up trying to talk like the White Man, at the risk of abusing his hospitality.  Wait, that’s unfair, cuz we have abandoned the way the LOCALs talk here and that includes the indigenous people from whom the European settlers later appropriated the land, fellow accidental migrants and of course, everybody else who wants to sound like proper British subjects.  Actually, Kiwis no longer sound British, they are somewhat a cross between neutral American and neutral BBC English, but definitely NOT Australian. They have their own quirky terms the way Pinoys do, but generally to an unaccustomed ear it is easy to mistake their dropped r’s and underaccented syllables for the Queen’s English.   Instead, we try not to speak with a pronounced Pinoy accent, try not to rely on slangish speech (theirs or ours) and above all, speak slowly. Another way to say it would be : instead of trying to understand them all the time, we now focus on making them understand us.  Which in a way makes sense, since there are lots of them, and only one of us !   Sounds crazy, but crazy enough to work.  As in, we don’t know if it’s wishful thinking, but we feel that if we stay with our original way of talking, we impart the sentiment that it’s important enough for us to make them try to understand, or at least get used to it.  This is not the ideal situation, for sure.  We all know that Pinoys / Chinoys are famous for adaptability, to the extent that we at times become better speakers of a host’s tongue / accent than the locals are (think Lea Salonga in West End) …  tama powba o hinde? In our earnest desire to be accepted or assimilated into society, we are famous for internalizing how they sound, they who have come ahead of us and graciously accept us newcomers into their land.   When we do this, we keep alive the fiction of being two persons in one body : at work and at home … we present a face that is katanggap tanggap to the world at large, and when we return to hearth and home, we revert to the language of our childhood.    For some it works, for others not… ewan ko saan po ako papanig, but for now we are a hybrid of Jimmy Santos / Willie Revillame (who we are told we resemble) / Manny Pacquiao, and if not for the sad comment na sana Pinay na lang kami,  our predominantly male workmates seem to find our twang mildly amusing. For now.                      **                    **                    **                    **                    **   Which brings us to a related topic, particularly to race-related awkwardness : we go so far as to wonder if, relative to their peers in a UCB (United Colors of Benetton) community, caucasian kids are predisposed to growing with more than a healthy ego.  You can’t blame them for that, in our tortured analysis. We don’t mean a puffed-up, stuck-up, full-of- yourself kind of personality, but a overly well-structured sense of self and of race.     They are brought up with the notion that their freedoms and ways of life were purchased by the blood of patriots (as with most cultures) and they see that the liberal democracy that is the backbone of most of governments is the result of such historical sacrifice.    They are told from toddlerhood that theirs is the greatest country (or culture) on earth, and indeed, as they marvel at the dimensions and grandness of the fat of their land, what could be bigger, or better?  Mass media and cultural references not just in their land but worldwide all but shout out the fact that the white-dominated and white-supported culture, values, religions and way of life are superior, and truly in many ways they are.    Indeed, how often have we heard the phrase/s (in its infinite variations) I / we thank God for allowing me / us to be born in the best possible place on earth to be, God’s You – nited States of Ay-merica, Amen?  And many times, how hard has it been to argue with this breathtaking logic?   But the important thing is that this is reinforced in the child’s mind in many many ways, well until adulthood.  In short, white children are told many of the same things Asian and other non-white children are told, but they are given the added physical evidence of their education.   In contrast, many Asian children are taught to be respectful, deferential and sometimes almost unquestioning to their elders and those in authority; down the generations the sanctity of family and the hierarchy of values dies hard; for  most families God — whichever religion you subscribe to — country and family might as well be the cornerstones by which lives are lived.   In other words, more often than not, in the majority of the world outside the Americas and Europe, the “self” as an independent entity is subsumed or worse, absorbed by omnipotent / infallible social institutions which, later in life, turn out to be not so omnipotent / infallible at all.  In the meantime, the “self” has gone under, submerged and most likely diminished for the collective good.   We’re not saying this doesn’t happen in the first world, where values continue to be valued, nor are we saying that Asian traditionalism has not begun to be crowded out by humanist, personalistic values.  Just that it’s easier to understand the White Man when seen against how he grows up and how he is educated.  Very simplistic for sure, but worth thinking about.   We hasten to add that children in many, many cultures are brought up with the same nationalism, respect for history, etc.  But First World kids are given reinforcement,  many times over, beyond what they read in textbooks and hear from teachers.   Can we blame the Caucasian youth for feeling that the world is his for the taking?   We almost hate to bring this up relatedly, but in this day and age, when you have media reporting things like the pregnant Muslim woman stabbed to death at a Germany  courtroom in an obviously hate-related incident, and a Virginia justice of the peace refusing to participate in an inter-racial marriage, you gotta think, have we gone forward or backward in the goal towards a UCB world?                      **                    **                    **                    **   Last Na Po To. We chanced to catch Connector of The World, a regular CNN mini-segment devoted to people who by their talents and energies are able to connect peoples all over the world.  That day’s Connector was one of YoungShi’s fave authors, Paulo Coelho, whose great work has been translated in a record 63 languages and has been reproduced in around 100 million books.  But that’s not what we found remarkable and memorable, watching his short Q & A. First of all, we expected, based on reading The Alchemist, an abstract, swami-like philosophizer.  He actually looked like a sharp, well-dressed, worldwise Latino CEO, which is probably what he is now, with all his worldly and unworldly success.  Even more surprising was one of his answers, particularly to the question What would you tell mothers is the most important lesson they can give their kids? (We’re paraphrasing here.)  He said : Teach your kids to keep alive the spirit of rebellion, and to be not so politically correct all the time.  With all its implications and subtexts, we leave it here . . . Thanks for sharing your time and thanks for the memories. YLB NOel   * Son of Heaven – A former honorific for the Emperor of China.