Thursday, December 15, 2011

Christmastime in Romblon

for the geography challenged - that is in the Philippines

I wouldn’t know either if it wasn’t for a series of unfortunate circumstances; the greatest of which was the untimely death of my father. It was through his suffering that I became acquainted with this culture, for his primary caregiver was a Filippina. She made living with a broken leg for 10 months as tolerable for my father as anyone could have. I will never be able to sift from that misery whose was whose; what was what or how much was her, him, my family, myself - it really doesn’t matter. What is important is that in a time of great need, there was great care - the same dilemma we are all faced with today.

I came here to Romblon because of how my father taught me to live - he imparted the importance of values; he didn’t necessarily dictate which values, but that I live a life of worth. Early on, I was lucky to find carving stone fit my nature, that and a deep affection for beauty of woman sealed my fate. The problem is my father had a wonderful sense of humor - the kind you have to follow carefully to make sure you got the punchline, or whether you were the punchline. For example: in the preceding sentence fragment I change tense, looked twice, and let it stand (did it again)... The keen ones amongst you are asking how this pertains to Christmas, or values for that matter.

It was by having fun that he made his point, and he was quite fond of making a point. You might even say my father was the most competitive man who ever walked the earth. It is what he competed for that is significant, for though he is no longer here to cajole; mock or jolly his magic, I am. Whether there is a nether world of afterlife in which he is chuckling at this instant is unimportant, for though he does not animate this vale of tears his influence will echo as long as I draw breath. That is an important value in an age where it is almost demanded from birth that you neuter your outrageous individuality; if you don’t believe me, try shitting on your boss’s desk next time he pisses you off or putting a “cap” in the thug when he refused you a seat on the subway. My dad earned my greatest regard for not advocating dominance, retaliation or any of the sundry responses to frustration.

I would rail as a young man still formulating my plan to carve while being frustrated by all the restrictions of “life.”  He would listen to my rage and say simply, “you’re a lover, not a fighter.” Nor was he wrong; every step of the way violence of any sort, be it mental, physical or spiritual has come up short compared to the unrelenting force of love. About now the keen and determined amongst you are saying well enough about “values” but what in hell does Romblon have to do with Christmas? My reaction to his suffering has been a renewed determination to honor his gift of life, and because I carve stone, I have sought the ideal circumstance to accomplish that end: Romblon is an island of Marble; it is remote, inexpensive and populated by beautiful women and hard working men. Yet here I sit more certain than when I left my home it’s not circumstance that carves stone.

Anymore than it is a nation which is “the” cause of all good or all evil. Nor is any one of us heir to the all of anything - blessings or otherwise. We are here for an instant; there are ways to live which nurture, encourage and accomplish as much there are ways to live that are destructive, coercive and dishonest. Here is the challenge - we can do much. Just as the kind Filippina made my father’s last days tolerable, or my family stretched to tearing hoping to remove some ache from his tired body, we humans will always accomplish that which is necessary to get through to a better world. So while doing that, please have some fun and remember to love whomever you can; wherever you are; whenever you can.

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