Lupain ng Ginto't Bulaklak

A foreigner once said: the problem with you Filipinos is that you don't love your country enough. What's in a country anyway? What's in being a Filipino? If you rave about culture, we lost our culture to the Spanish and the Americans a long time ago. We talk about our beautiful islands; and yet we leave it to be ravished by foreigners. We talk about our food and yet we can't even delineate which one is uniquely ours. To sum it all up: everything about our glorious past has faded into a distant memory that few people would relish and be proud of. We have become like has-been moviestars that are only remembered when something bad happens. The Philippines is only mentioned on TV when the topic is about volcanic eruption (Mt Pinatubo), Charisse Pempengco, and mail-to-order brides. Our women are branded as sex-kittens who are easy to get and easily lured by dollar-bearing old fat and dirty men. I don't feel sorry for them. I feel sorry for myself. For when I first read the Noli Me Tangere, I felt a sense of anger and longing for justice about incidents that happened centuries ago. When I joined the Edsa II, I felt a sense of jubilation when Erap was thrown out of the Palace. And at that time, a flicker of hope lit up in my chest: Change....

... did not come. It wasn't meant to come. It will never come. That's why I feel sorry for myself. I feel numb and apathetic when people talk about my country. As with all relationships, love is not enough. And when that statement starts to sink into those souls who actually care: "The problem with you Filipinos is that you don't love your country enough", I will tell that man to shove it up. The only problem with us Filipinos is us Filipinos. And that makes me sorry for myself. You probably should feel sorry for yourself, too.