Watchful and weary

Watchful and weary | Daily Tribune

One week before my over P500 Noche Buena, and it feels like we are barely breathing. I imagine a starving dog left to die in the streets, or a homeless man carting around his scraps and belongings, wondering where he might end up in the night. I turn my attention to the news, and there are gunshots on Bondi Beach, panic, police action, people dead.

The curse of the internet? Our world, whether we are aware of it or not, is full of stories, good, bad, evil.

In a year that has bled with destruction, both natural and man-made, it can be hard to feel the Christmas spirit, even if you are a devout Catholic. Uncertainty is a seed watered by non-action on corruption. But joy, our parish priest said last Sunday, is a choice.

So I choose to feel joy instead of disappointment over government officials who have proven unworthy of our trust.

I choose to feel joy instead of frustration over roads that make me feel like I am not in the urban center of the Philippine islands.

I choose to feel joy instead of sadness over families who must continue to count their pesos and hope there will be more, this time next year.

That P500 gaffe by a Cabinet official was very telling of our society, where the rich have absolutely no idea about the reality on the ground. I remember a road official carelessly suggesting that families with more than one child should buy a bigger car to fit the child seats required by law. Maybe he can afford a 24-car garage, too, now that we know how lavishly some Filipinos choose to live.

Will they ever swallow humble pie while the innocent victims of corruption can enjoy an indulgent feast? Perhaps this year opened our eyes to how one corrupt deed or the continued negligence of duty can blow up into a national poverty meter that never moves down. Or an embarrassing excuse of a country populated by smart, cheerful people but whose goodness and naivete are always abused, and by one another.

Perhaps at this point, it is obvious that the Grinch stole my joy or controls my keyboard. I am not so sure.

Back in 2021, these hands typed up words that reeked of similar frustration. At the time, the problem was also about prices and the cost of living. It was the pandemic, but Covid-19 had no power over corruption. With fuel prices up and people more inclined to worry about health safety and their loved ones and livelihood, the feeling of a P500 Noche Buena never needed to be said. Thousands suffered from loss of jobs or closure of businesses, and increasing gas prices ensured another expensive season for all.

The government offered subsidies, another temporary balm. It’s as if we are constantly being soothed when we encounter pain, only to find the soother caused it, after all.