If Rizal were alive today In a letter that requests prompt remittance of his allowance, including instructions
that the family use the Shanghai Banking Corporation (the bank that we know today
By Ambeth Ocampo
Inquirer
First Posted 01:01:00 12/13/2006
Filed Under: Human Interest
Published on Page A15 of the December 13, 2006 issue of the Philippine Daily
Inquirer
WHEN people ask what Jose Rizal would have been like if he was not shot and lived
beyond Dec. 30, 1896, the question opens a can of worms. While most of us want to
make the hero in the image and likeness of what we can never even aspire to be,
there are others who want Rizal to become human again. Instead of that recognizable
name on textbooks and street signs or that figure immortalized in stone or bronze,
always wearing or carrying a heavy overcoat that is so out of place in our tropical
and humid country, people want a hero who is like them -- for it is in Rizal’s
humanity that we actually are inspired to see our own capacity for greatness.
This is starting to sound like a Rizal Day speech inspired by the recent press
conference presided over by Speaker Jose de Venecia. While the water-throwing
incident between Vic Agustin and RC Constantino had allusions to the historic
Cherie Gil-Sharon Cuneta scene in the movie “Bituing Walang Ningning,” with the
famous line, “You are nothing but a second-rate trying-hard copycat!” I was
transfixed on the Speaker, with his trademark ears and weary tone, trying to simulate
gravitas because some years ago he gave his own take on Rizal; he said that had
Rizal been alive today, he would -- true to form as a hero -- solve all our problems,
be they political, economic, social or cultural. My own take on Rizal is that if he
were alive and well today, he would be involved in politics and social issues -- a
guarantee that he would make good sound bytes and would surely be shot in the
Luneta all over again for standing up for his convictions.
In order to know what Rizal would be like if he were alive today, one just has to read
the four-volume compilation of his correspondence to find out. It is unfortunate that
most Filipinos will settle for a textbook on Rizal, when his letters are quite a
revelation. Preparing for my Christmas column, I tried to track down his impressions
of Christmas abroad and on how lonely it was to be an expatriate Filipino knowing
that family and friends gather together for Noche Buena [Christmas Eve Dinner]. I
was looking for the letter where he describes falling snow, and even makes fun of
himself by saying that it is not only the snow that falls in winter but people too. The
streets are so slippery that even he has fallen on his butt due to the slush and ice.
Although I have read these letters three or four times over, I still find something new
in something old like a description of Christmas 1885 in Paris.
as HSBC), there is a delightful description of children:
“Beginning with the 24th of December all the sidewalks of the boulevards are filled
with 'baraques,' or little stalls of toys, fruits, etc., like the Feria de Quiapo. (baraque
is pronounced ‘barac’ whence barraca). A multitude of people stroll there -- children,
young and old. The government organizes entertainments for children only. Actors,
actresses, and artists play gratis for the entertainment of the children who know how
to reciprocate well this solicitude by behaving very considerately. I don’t get tired
admiring the education of French children. It seems like a fable when they are
compared with the children there [in the Philippines] whether [these be] Spaniards or
Filipinos. On the street, on the omnibus, in the carriages, in the promenades, at
home, everywhere, they are well behaved. They don’t shout or cry. They don’t
bother [anyone else].
“This very morning, on the omnibus, there was a boy of about five seated on the lap
of his mother, and he was very quiet and very formal, saying not a single word. After
awhile another woman with another child almost of the same age came and they sat
in front. The two boys looked at each other in silence without saying a word, but as
the trip was long, they didn’t remain silent. One started smiling and the other one
also. One extended his hand smiling and half closing his eyes; the other took it and
they started talking in their childish language and in a low voice. Later, one took out
from under his coat a top and showed it to the other who examined it closely smiling
and turned it with signs of satisfaction. They don’t fight or shout.
“In the big bazaars where families go to do all kinds of shopping, there are immense
halls full of beautiful toys competing for attention. Well, children go there, look and
bear the tricks of wonderfully made dolls, mechanical toys, horses and many others,
and you will not hear either a cry or a shot or a plea to their parents to buy them
those toys. They think that if they behaved well during the year, on the morning of
Dec. 25 [gifts] would come upon them, and if not all is well. The children of the poor
go there to look at them only and they don’t touch them or say a word in a loud
voice; but those who see those little eyes can read what they feel in their hearts. This
education seems to me a conclusive evidence in favor of the new system of
educating a man in the love of good and his fellowmen.”
If Rizal were alive in the Philippines today, he would still complain about Filipino
children and their behavior. Like a stereotype unmarried snooty uncle, our national
hero would not like children very much.