Finding Pride on a Two-way Street (and Losing it on a Lonely Highway?)

Funny how in these islands imitation in the context of Philippine-American relations is seen as the most harmless thing on earth, or more than that, a naturally-occurring cultural dynamics mutually beneficial to parties. It is likened to a smooth and free-flowing vehicular traffic on a two-way street, a vibrant exchange characterized by a reciprocity of interests that should be welcomed with pride and joy.

Blindly applying the principle of in pari delicto, our obsessive and wholesale imitation of a lot of American things is justified as something like a crime committed against each other. It is reduced to the ridiculously shallow they-like-our-exotic-color-we-like-their-pale-skin mutuality of things.

Unfortunately, this is more than just about admiring the native Baluga’s melanin ( the indio’s tanned-skin if you wish to call it) or the colonizer’s white skin that allegedly results in an economically beneficial tanning-lotion and bleach products.

Such simplistic view ignores the very rationale of the US occupation ( cheap source of labor, cheap source of raw materials for their industries, market for their surplus products, investment for their surplus capital and a base for expansion in Asia and beyond) and the lingering malaise it has caused us (lopsided treaties, perpetual indebtedness, and all their effects).

It avoids the present issue of our neo-colonial (or semi-colonial – take your pick) status, from the economic to political to cultural. It defocuses the attention from our need to attain genuine independence and social emancipation for our people.

I never said that imitation is our exclusive domain. Others do it as well. But the dgeree of our obsession with it and the fanatical way we nurture and defend It at the cost of our own identity and progress is abhorrently shameful and unacceptable.

Of course white women tan their skin – it is exotic, with an island-vacation feel. And of course we love to bleach our skin on the other hand ( Michael Jackson might be the same case, I am not sure) But do our women prefer to have darker complexion? No.

Aaay negra, I could almost hear the mother exclaiming. Hey, why be associated with the lowly Baluga and their kind . So open up those parasols lest the tropical sun reveal our true colors in no time. Wonder why we never had a negrita Binibining Pilipinas?

Apparently, the skin color example in attempt to explain and justify imitation is not -well, skin-deep. It is not as harmless and neutral as some would want to think it is.

Our obsession with imitation has colonial origins. And while I won’t say exclusively American, a century of Hollywood is surely a lot more powerful than 400 years of Spanish cloister. We hated the native-kicking-Spaniards and their women-impregnating-frailes. We cursed their forced labor ( well, we still do) and we sympathized with Sisa. So we tore their cedulas and sent them packing out back to Iberia.

So who would speak Spanish (even when Latinos and the entire immigrant population are soon poised to outnumber the non-Hispanic whites in the US – the largest English speaking country in the world ) instead of English? Do I here Hablo Espanol? Who would watch Almodovar, Bunuel, del Torro, Cuaron or Reygadas instead of Hollywood movies aside from the cineastes? Would you rather be in Mallorca or Miami Beach? Would we rather apply for Spanish province-hood or US statehood (take a bow Mr. Cabangbang and the statehood movement.)

But we rejoiced with Uncle Sam. Victory Joe! I shall return. Ah, the joys of ice cream (life is miserable without it), and soda (ok, soft drinks), the delight of boogie and winter wonderland (see the fake snow in local holiday variety shows), the pleasure of fried chicken (well, Jollibee is international now you see) and hamburgers; Hollywood; toothpaste -never mind that it was capitalist greed that really motivated them (windfall profit with ten million Indios buying it) – not health concerns or hygiene; and, well, feel free to add your list of our benefits from US colonization.

And so we would rather speak English and let’s face it, accept anything American — the military bases have been kicked out but who cares, they freely roam and rule Mindanao and nobody thinks its intervention; they rape our women and we think it’s the Pinay’s fault (malandi kasi). That we always identify with the US in almost all aspects of life as if by instinct is one indelible proof of the subtlety of their colonization of our people.

This is how we spell privilege. This is how we wear pride.

Benevolent assimilation. Ah, but I will reserve this for a different occasion.

How the apologists of colonization find that period of our national life more beneficial than harmful ( there are also disadvantages is how they put it) escapes me. They want to believe that their former(?) masters have reciprocal obsession with Filipino culture. A reciprocity of interests that is beneficial to both. Really?

So where did this proud colonization bring or leave us? On a lonely highway, or more aptly a dusty neo-colonial feeder  road, while the rest of our non-English speaking neighbors race against each other in the industrial freeway of progress.

Little did these latter-day colonial subjects know that their white masters in the US of A have abysmal ignorance about other people’s cultures and histories including its own former colonies. Little did they know that their allegedly skin-color admirers never looked at them as equals . It was never so then. It is never so now.

These little brown American compatriots of ours are funny, except that in the sorrowful state of our neo-colonial country nobody is laughing.