Epiphanies After Breakfast

"Your work is to discover your world and then
with all your heart give yourself to it."
~Buddha~

Traveling to the Philippines for the first time has been an experience. That's the best way to describe it. To label it amazing would be an understatement. To claim that it's been life changing would be criminally obvious. Frankly, it's more than any adjective I could ever begin to conjure up. The wheels of destiny are turning right before my eyes--and unlike the past, where it would take the wisdom of hindsight before I realized the significance of the event-- this time around I am lucky enough to grasp the magnitude of what's transpiring around me in real time. 

It has been thirteen days since my plane touched down in the motherland. And right from the start the adventure commenced, promising to not let up until my feet were firmly back on American soil. Leaving the airport proved to be a challenge. Fortunately for us, we arrived during the tail end of a typhoon that left the city streets flooded. Roads were closed. Traffic was backed up. And water as high as the belt around your waist was the reality we entered. After a quick audible in our plans, we decided to find a place to stay right off Roxas Boulevard. My first night was spent in a seedy hotel smack dab in the middle of the hood, a stone's throw away from the slums. All throughout the night, doing my best to ignore the cockroaches, my heart jumped in anticipation and excitement for the days to come. My mind raced at considering the possibilities I'd encounter. 

What I have found is that each day has brought it's own unique experience, chalk full of adventure and wonderment. 

We've been in a car accident that led to spending part of our day at the police station. We've been devoured by mosquitoes. We've crammed 13 people into a 10 person van and then traveled over 10 hours to one of the greatest wonders of the world. We've climbed mountains. We've shampooed our hair in a waterfall. We've sat in on graduate classes that have open our minds to the "special" relationship the Philippines shares with America. We've avoided drinking the water unless it's bottled. We've danced the night away in nightclubs downtown. We've become intimate with the organized chaos of driving during rush hour. And somewhere amidst it all, we've been able to cultivate a bond amongst each other that seems to strengthen as the days go on. 

However, not everything has been hunky dory. 

The ramifications of American colonization is painfully visible all throughout the archipelago. In one form or another, it seems as if the American culture has infiltrated every realm of Filipino life. English here is as pervasive as the AIDS epidemic in Africa. It is spoken exclusively in our lectures. It is prevalent in any form of business. Never do I have to worry about applying my rudimentary Tagalog skills when ordering my pork adobo with mango juice. The waiter already understands what I'm saying. When riding in the taxi cab many of the songs played on the radio are from the States. There are giant billboards promoting skin whitening creams to help lighten your complexion and to get you to more look like "them" and less like "us." On practically every corner you can find either a McDonald's or KFC, promoting quick cholesterol raising convenience over healthy habits conducive to a long life. The American attitude towards consumerism has also been adopted. Giant shopping malls (two of which are ranked amongst the largest in the world) entice Filipinos to come and spend their hard earned pesos for the instant gratification that materialism provides. 

But what breaks my heart the most is not the globalization or the sheer poverty that follows closely behind. No. That right is reserved for the historical trauma brought forth from the Philippine American War and the lingering effects still felt today from the atrocities committed against our ancestors. It hurts my soul knowing that innocent Filipino women and children by the hundreds were murdered in the name of U.S. imperialism. I never knew benevolent assimilation to be so violent. General Smith was quoted as saying (I'm paraphrasing mind you) to kill and burn, the more you (the U.S. soldiers) kill and burn the better pleased I will be and that it was no time to take prisoners. When asked what was the age limit for killing he responded with-- everything over ten. Villages were obliterated.  Churches and graves were looted. Everything was destroyed. To imagine that my relatives had to go through such a devastating ordeal leaves me enraged at this part of American history.  

After the dust settled and the war was considered over, the country was left in ruin. Unofficial reports totaled the death toll for Filipinos to be over one million. But the real damage came about after the fighting had stopped. The American indoctrination through the education system is what would truly paralyze the Filipino. The schools headed by American servicemen essentially brainwashed the people into believing in everything American as being superior and anything Filipino being the complete opposite. You can spend 5 minutes in Manilla today and get this reconfirmed 20 times over. 

But I digress. 

Being here is enlightening. The more I explore the homeland of my mother, the more I begin to find myself. Understanding my heritage, learning my history, and reconnecting with my roots has empowered me. I feel strong. As time goes by, more of my purpose is revealed. Gone are the days of feeling confused, lost and abandoned. And in its place is a silent determination to help. To help myself. To help my people. To help my planet. Learning the horrors that the Philippines has undergone and seeing the subsequent manifestations of those transgressions has left me angry beyond belief. But instead of directing this fiery energy towards something destructive, I am channeling this power into making a difference. Rereading the Autobiography of Malcolm X has been the ongoing narrative to help guide my transformation. I am awakening from my slumber of ignorance. I am being baptized in the waters of knowledge. All of which has rendered me helpless in resisting its attractive and magnetic pull towards self-discovery.

Evolution is just beyond the horizon. How could I not enjoy the sunset?

John Eklof