Allie's Letters to Danielle: Part 4

Ma chèrie Danielle,

Yet again, this is the 22 year old, crazy persona of your mother.

How are you? I do wonder what’s on your mind right now. Are you dreaming about that little spark of ambition you’ve been nurturing since you were running around with your doll? Are you thinking about the people you’ve created in your mind that you’ve been itching to put down on paper? Or, are you in reverie over that sweet, dashing young man you’ve told me about in the secret of a mother-daughter bond session? Oh, we most certainly have a lot to talk about, don’t we, my dear? Haha! I do promise to deal with all that pretty soon. I await writing to you about these pressing matters of growing up.

Again, I do still wonder --- as a twenty-two year old tapping on her laptop, still reeling in from her studies --- how the world of my future daughter will be like. Are all children given the rights to go to school? Is there food on the table for every family? Hey, who holds the highest office in the land; who makes all these things possible in the first place?

I’m sorry if I’m suddenly prodding. I guess it’s just the effect of the season. For you see, as I write this, it is barely month away from me and the rest of my countrymen casting their votes to see who will lead the nation for the next six years. That’s right. We are about to elect our next president, and, well, until now, I’m still weighing in who I will shade on that ballot.

Every single thing about each candidate really must be considered. Have they, even before venturing into politics, done something to better the lives of those around them? How’s their family; are they whole? How about their heart? Will they ever think of stealing from the chest of this land to go to their expensive sports cars? All of these, I really must think thoroughly about.

Why? Because I’m thinking about one person when I cast that vote. You. Well, it’s actually you and the rest of your generation. You see that little blot of ink corresponds to six years of handing someone the future of my beloved country. That’s six years where he is able to make lasting changes in our beloved islands --- whether or not it’s beneficial to society. Yes, that one day will impact not just the next six years of the Philippines, but you right there reading this around thirty years after I’ve shaded that circle.

And, that’s why I must take into account everything. That’s the way I choose to vote. I choose not to step blindly into that precinct. For my nation’s sake. For your sake.

I hope the decisions I and the rest of my country make on the 11th of May will turn out for the best. I can’t wait to see you grow up in a land where everything’s possible.

Of course, Mummy always loves you!

With love,
Mum

Allie

Aquarela das Filipinas

Uhm..yeah, the culture geek attacks yet again!

This time, her mind flew off to Brazil, land of stunning beaches, a vibrant festival called Carnaval, and oh yeah, great music. Please bear with her Portuguese-spouting for now. She promises to return to normal (whatever she calls normal) pretty soon.

This one is called "Aquarela do Brasil" ("Watercolours of Brazil" in Portuguese, and it was composed by Ary Barroso in 1939. This would have to be my favourite version of the song sung by João Gilberto, Gilberto Gil, and Caetano Veloso (three cantores I utterly admire, especially the first one.). What can I say more about this song except that I love how breezy it feels, as if I were suddenly transported to Ipanema by ear. Oh, and of course, we can not deny the beauty of the Portuguese language in the song.

Yes, of course, I'm not going to go and leave you scratching your heads at what this admittedly addictive song means. Here is the translation to the Portuguese lyrics:

Brazil
My Brazilian Brazil
My cunning mulatto
I will sing of you in my verses
Oh, Brazil, samba that gives swing,
That makes people sway
Oh, Brazil of my love
Land of Our Lord

Brazil! Brazil!
For me... for me...

Ah, open the curtain of the past
Bring the Black Mother down from the mountains
Place the Congo King in the congado
Brazil! Brazil!
Let the minstrel sing again
In the melancholy moonlight
Every song of his love
I want to see the Bahian woman
walking,
Trailing through the salons
Her lacy skirts

Brazil! Brazil!
For me... for me...

Brazil
Good and savory land
Of the cunning dark-skinned woman
With an indiscreet gaze
Oh, Brazil, green that makes
The world amazed
Oh, Brazil of my love
Land of Our Lord

Brazil! Brazil!
For me... for me...

Oh, this palm tree that gives coconuts
Where I hang my hammock
On clear moonlit nights
Oh, hear these murmuring fountains
Where I slake my thirst
And where the moonlight comes to play
Oh, this Brazil, beautiful and swarthy
Is my Brazilian Brazil
Land of samba and tambourines

Brazil! Brazil!
For me... for me...


Oh yes, that was indeed a sort of dance song...about their country.

What kind of people love their country so much that it makes them dance, a form of self-expression?


Well, apparently, the Brazilians do. They love their good and savoury land so much that they can't help voice (and apparently, move) it out. No, they're not ashamed to be caught swaying their hips to such a song as this. Hey, if gyrating is what it takes to say a big "I love you too." to Brazil, so be it.


Will we ever love our nation so much that it makes us dance. No, I don't necessarily mean literally. Like I've said, dance is self-expression. When you see that piece of trash on the road, will you pick it up? This coming elections, are you wisely weighing who you think should lead the nation. Hey, are you even registered in the first place. When asked about where you come from, do you say "Filipino" or "Oh, I'm Asian. Is that good enough?"? Have you ever expressed to the Philippines your love and appreciation?


The Bible says everything must bear fruit. Since that's so, your love for country should manifest itself in your actions towards it. I'm not saying you should die for the nation or that you should never like anything foreign. (Please. That's called discrimination.) As I've said in the previous paragraph, loving the nation can be as simple as obeying traffic rules or helping teach kids in Sunday School, or even actually saying you're Filipino. Every little deed is a step in a grand dance of national pride.


And no, you don't necessarily have to sing it in Portuguese.

Pambihira!

Oh, I see you there. You’re bravely trying to stifle a giggle. The muscles near your mouth are now twitching from the force you demand of them trying to silence a huge guffaw threatening to escape. Well, guys, it’s no use. I already know that you find it funny. So, go ahead. You may burst out laughing now.

Oh, and if you’re chuckling right now at the title of this entry, I know now that you’re Filipino.

For those of you who have no idea what this all means, pambihira is actually an expression of annoyance in the Filipino language. This is usually uttered with rolling eyes and, at times, a head scratch or a bang on some table. Great ways to use this little word are after queuing for an hour and finding the clerk on lunch break, that car on the road splashing flood water all over your pristine, white shirt, and finding out your group mate in some project didn’t do his share…again. It’s a pretty common word so you wouldn’t really be hard pressed to find this little linguistic token.

But, well, in linguistics, meaning is derived in two forms: denotation (dictionary meaning) and connotation (its use in a particular statement or situation). As a word, we’ve only discussed the connotation of pambihira. Actually, if you look up that word in a Filipino dictionary, you’d find its definition not to be of irritation or frustration. Its denotation has nothing to do with it at all. Pambihira is actually the Tagalog word for “rare’, as in “Bawat limampung taon lamang lumalabas itong pambihirang bulalakaw.” (This rare comet only appears every fifty years.).

I really have no idea how “rare’ became “Ugh!”. My wannabe linguist brain churns out the theory that perhaps it’s because annoyed people want whatever stupidity that’s currently irritating them to be a rare instance. Perhaps, it’s the secret faith in humanity everyone has that most people are intelligent and wise and that foolishness is rare. Or maybe, it’s the opposite. Maybe it’s a little sigh that how come brains are rare. However it was derived, I kind of like this little colouring of the Filipino language amongst many.

Hey, here’s a great example of that dichotomy.

Two thousand years ago, the Lord of the Heavens and the Earth decided to step down from His throne of majesty and live as a human being. He decided to give up His unlimited power for that time and become, well, bounded as a person. Not just that, but He was pretty much arrested, tried and nailed on a cross for a crime He didn’t commit. Yes, He knew it would happen, but oh wait. He did so willingly. And for what? Well, He did all of that for a bunch of imperfect, ungrateful sinners who probably wouldn’t even willingly recognise Him.

Now, if you were His friend, would you yell “Pambihira ka naman o!”? Yeah, probably you would. And yes, many of His friends did. They thought what was happening to their dear friend was very unfair. What made it worse, though, is that He was willing to do it. Now, if that’s not worthy of a scream of “Pambihira!”, I don’t know what is.

Yet, He did it. Why? It’s pretty simple really. His love for all of those unworthy people was (and still is) pambihira --- rare. In fact, I think only He can ever give a love that powerful, that passionate. I think only He could ever give up everything He had, including his life, in order to give those He loves ---everyone --- something better.

I’d be worthy of a yell of pambihira if I don’t say thank You.