Why I Still Voted

I just voted. As an overseas absentee voter, I sent the ballot envelope containing my vote to the embassy in Den Haag, The Netherlands. It cost me 54 euro-cents (PhP 25), but I was happy to spend such amount for the reason I will mention here. I could only vote for the national candidates, much to my disappointment because it is in the local election where my single vote could really make some difference.

Despite the feverish pitch of May 13 national election, there is a strong sense of combined indifference and skepticism in the power of the election to change or inject hope in the plight of average Filipinos.

The common reason for the indifference and skepticism  is this line: "pareho-pareho lang ang mga 'yan, korap at wala naman mangyayari eh" (everyone is the same, corrupt, and nothing will happen afterwards anyway). Then, why bother to vote?

I feel strong reasons to continue voting and participate in the democratic process of selecting political leaders. To be and take part in this process carry a tremendous honor and responsibility to one's society. To my mind, it is only through election that I truly feel my role as a member of a society. (Well, during Olympics or other games/sports, my belongingness to a certain society is also at the peak).

Reading and seeing the final national election results, I was not generally happy. The inclusion of the daughters of the current vice-president and former presidential candidate, sons of a former president and out-going senator, cousin of the current president, and wife of an out-going senator,  in the final ranking of the 12 senators-elect is not a positive sign for a democratic process, in my mind.

What redeem the final  results to my utter defeatist sentiment are the election of young people in the House of Senate, the high final ranking of two "independent" candidates, and the victory of four women out of the 12 winners of the senate seats.

These results have provided me more reasons to participate in the next elections, in the hope that the  candidates win not because of their last names but of their capability to empower the masses through them. What I realize in the concluded election is that the Philippines seems to be very far from this stage. Like me as a student from far away place, the hope seems to be distant. But in my heart and in the hearts of those who continue to dream of a better Philippines, this hope will come, like many overseas workers who one day will come home.

I believe that hope has a home in the Philippines. Believe with me.

Faith in a secular society: A retreat reflection

It was Sunday, around 2PM when we were waiting for the bus which would take us to Driebergen-Zest (those going to Nijmegen) and Utrecht Centraal (those going to Enschede, Amsterdam,  and Groningen) at the Het Zonnehuis bus stop in Doorn, Utrecht. Most of the participants rushed to that nearest bus stop to catch the 2:08 schedule.

We just came from a national retreat with a theme, Faith in a secular society, organized by the International Student Chaplaincy with Fr. Avin Kunnekkadan, SVD, Rev. Edith Plantier, and Fr. Wiel Eggen, SMA. The 2-day/night (19-21 April) retreat in the villa-like Het Brandpunt in Doorn, Utrecht gathered 19 participants from 14 countries (Brazil, China, Fiji, India, Italy, Japan, Kenya, Mexico, Nigeria, Pakistan, Philippines, Rwanda, Singapore, and South Africa).

At the bus stop, there was a feeling that there were more stories left unshared. After two days of being together in the retreat, the level of trust and openness heightened and expanded among participants. The cold breeze that was sweeping our voices to reverberate in the area was doused by our joint laughters and smiles. From time to time, we looked at the direction where the bus was expected to show up. No one showed impatience and panic when no bus emerged from sight after 2:08PM. Everyone knew that in no time, a bus would show up. Everyone kept that faith.

When the bus finally arrived, many of us had no OV-Chipkaart and paid cash to the driver. Having an OV-Chipkaart, I decided to board in the bus the last. From outside, I saw that the bus driver patiently accepted cash and dispensed tickets. For about 10 minutes or so, I noticed that the cars behind the bus were slowly piling in line. There were about 15 cars waiting for the bus to move. Until I got in the bus and took my seat, I did not hear any blowing of horns from the cars nor expressions of irritation from the car drivers. In the countries where most of us came from, it was remarkable, but here in the Netherlands, it was ordinary.

How does this extra-ordinary become ordinary in the Netherlands?

While in the bus, I recalled the talks in the retreat. The first one, Secularization and internalization, by Dr. Otto Kroesen who provided the historical and systematic perspective of understanding the ordinariness of notable behaviors by the Dutch in the eyes of foreigners. According to him, the process towards secularization is Christian-inspired. He traced the origin of the distinction between secular and spiritual from the church. For example, the creation and existence of states emerged with the help of the church that bestowed authority to kings. However, the violence of small warlords at that time posed problems with the church’s work on conversion and was condemned as “secular” and temporary.

Dr. Kroesen also cited an observation of his Kenyan friend based on church attendance between  a religious society (e.g. Kenya) and secular one (e.g. Netherlands). His friend had observed that there is a higher level of social trust and cooperativeness in the Netherlands than in Kenya. He argued that this was because of internalization of human virtues which are Christian-inspired. In his elaboration and rationalization of the process of internalization, he often presented three dimensions. For example, quoting Marcel Gauchet, first was the gods are behind us (e.g. ancestors); then, the gods are above us (e.g. empires, sun, stars); and lastly, the gods are among and within us (e.g. secular, in human virtues). Another three dimensional explanation is with time; first is the time of the Father (One God), then of the Son (One World), and of the Holy Spirit (One Humanity) in which we live now. In the third dimension, God is becoming invisible, but the Spirit lives and moves in and through us. In this time, the role of the Church has changed. Not anymore of continuous sowing of the seeds of faith such as talking about God, but the time for harvesting such as living in the Spirit in which love is increasing and prioritized. There may be no outward representations of God in a secular society, but His/Her presence is expressed in people’s actions and behaviors towards others. After his talk, there was a plenary sharing of several participants’ striking observations and experiences in the Netherlands.

If the secularity of the Dutch society is Christian-inspired, does this secularity have Biblical roots?

In the second talk on the Biblical roots of secular concern, Fr. Wiel Eggen offered two possibilities of discussing the theme – Faith in a secular society; 1) how to be a believer in a secular society, and 2) how to have faith in a secular faith. He contended that this world and age as a reality is negatively viewed as contradictory to Christ’s life.  The contradiction is like darkness versus light (God’s kingdom) which has a connotation of not belonging to this world. Although the world, as we believe, was created by God, we experience its imperfections which need redemption. If we have faith in Jesus Christ who does not live anymore in this world, but who lives in us. He continued the contradiction by saying that we should live in this world, as if not. Our salvation is connected to the suffering of this world. Fr. Wiel urged us to make something of our lives by living according to what gives us mission and meaning in life, because we only live once (taken from YOLO which means you only live once).

After Fr. Wiel’s talk, several participants narrated their stories of the good and less good things they experienced in the Netherlands. For his part, Fr. Avin narrated his anecdote of the lost wallet. Others highlighted the high level of trust, openness, tolerance, and acceptance of Dutch society including marijuana use, same-sex marriage, and prostitution which are still largely illegal and unacceptable in most societies.

To provide us with real life stories of Christians living in a secular society, the third talk featured Rev. Rob van Essen and Mr. Norbert Abachi. Rev. van Essen, a Dutch pastor, told us that his first conversion was to Christ and the second to the world in which a community where virtues are practiced thrives. Mr. Abachi, a Kenyan with a strong religious background who has lived in the Netherlands for 13 years, intimated his dilemma. He somewhat fears of losing in time the bases of his religious practices and the separation of worship and good deeds. But he is reassured of the sense of community and structure that the Church is providing him. After their sharing, there was a short discussion on the role of the media in the society.

We noticed that the bus was approaching the Driebergen-Zeist bus stop and train station. Four of us got off the bus and waved goodbye to the others whose destination was Utrecht Centraal. There was no train schedule from Driebergen-Zest to Arnhem because of some repairs. We did not feel panicky or anything. We simply asked someone about how to get to Arnhem, and he pointed to a bus apparently commissioned by the NS-train. When we boarded the bus, most of the seats were occupied. Each of us took the available ones in various rows. When my body settled in the seat and relaxed, my eyes struggled to keep up with my mind still active reminiscing the last day of the retreat.　

On the last day which fell on Sunday, Fr. Avin officiated a liturgy. The readings, homily, and sharings were centered on the theme. After the liturgy, the groups presented their sketches depicting their experiences in the Netherlands and their Christian-inspired responses to various situations that often challenge their religious traditions and beliefs. The closing was somehow unceremonious, but it served the purpose of continuing the personal reflection on the theme, Faith in a secular society.

Back to the bus, I woke up when we were nearing Arnhem bus stop and train station. When we were walking towards Arnhem train station, Noriko asked me about my wallet. I calmly checked my wallet at my jean’s back pocket. Inside the train going to Nijmegen, we took the group seats facing each other. When the train moved, I observed that no one showed surprise why we were moving in another direction. Unlike the first day when we were on the way to the retreat, there was a tinge of panic because the train was moving towards the same direction towards Nijmegen where we came from. This time, there was none. For the rest of the train ride back home, we let things be, knowing that we were on the right track.

After the retreat, we have less questions about the secular Dutch society than ever before. We’ve grown faith in this secular society as we strive to keep our own.

Dutch Election 2012: An Observation of a Season

Like a season that comes and goes, election must bring something new to our surrounding. The Dutch election, like no other season, was over with some hope for new things, and some more hope for a better future. That I was told, and that I would not know.

What I know was what I have observed in the past weeks leading to the September 12 election.

For precautionary measures, any observations are always coming from somewhere, a certain reference or basis of observations. In my case, it would be the Philippine context (what else but my country). But this is in no way a comparative presentation; nor an attempt to objectively cover the Dutch election. This is the 2012 Dutch election, in my observation.

Wooden bulletin boards of this size (2 x 3 meters) were strategically set-up in cities and municipalities to allow political parties to post their official campaign posters. Some posters have smiling faces of leaders, some simply have the name in the official color of the parties.

In the whole campaign period, I did not see any party officials roaming around Nijmegen.

And I saw this at the train station in Heyendaal, Nijmegen. Plain name and colors of the party, Groenlinks (GreenLeft), with the slogan, de tijd is nu (the time is now).

And this was near the Molenhoek train station. A picture of the leader of the Partij van de Arbeid (PvdA) or Labour Party with its slogan, Nederland sterker en socialer (Netherlands stronger and more social).

Then on election day (September 12), polling booths (stembureau) were put up in strategic public places such as train stations, schools, government buildings/offices, universities, club houses, canteens, and even houses.

In my university, Radboud University Nijmegen, the stembureau was set-up beside the refter (cafeteria). Students, faculty and staff could cast their votes right in their campus and workplaces. Well, it is because election in the Netherlands is not a holiday. It is a working day like any Wednesdays of a week.

Found this sign at the entrance of Erasmus building. No need for police to guard the polling booths and election observers to monitor the credibility of the election. No need. There was no report of election-related  violence either.

The results were known after several hours. There was no protest or objections regarding the election results. The winners celebrated, those who lost seats contemplated. The Dutch had spoken to their politicians; it was time to be responsive to them in a representative government.

While the people have chosen their leaders, the two biggest election winners (conservative-liberal Volkspartij voor Vrijheid en Democratie or VVD, and  PvdA or Labour Party) can start talking about forming a government. The talks may take months. Until then, a government comes around like a season where people hope new things when they know exactly what to expect.

After A Year, Here I Am Again Nijmegen

Nijmegen train station

I know I will be back. I am bound to be back.

It was cold as expected in the Netherlands. I was prepared for the nearly freezing point of 3 degrees celcius. From Schiphol to Nijmegen, the train passed familiar and welcoming sights, and yet I felt a misplaced sensation of time and space.

Am I here?"

"Or Ï am moving to where I am supposed to be?"

The moving train settled and tied my wandering thoughts and trembling senses back to my own.

Welcome! says doraemon, flower and card

And then after an hour or so of that train ride, it felt a year of travel; here I am, in the same neighborhood, flat and room.

I was welcomed by a waiting greeting card, flower and doraemon on the table. It felt that I was not away that long. The radio, couch, bed, paintings, cabinets, and the silence in the neighborhood seemed to be unsurprised to see me back.

These are what I need to see, feel to say, "Ï'm back!"

I started to unpack my things, unraveling some memories and stories in my mind. Almost every stuff I put inside the cabinet or drawer, it carried a certain weight of home; unsettling at first in a new place.

Dominic buried in snow

Excitedly, I went down to the basement to get the few things I had left behind in the flat. They were all there, anticipating my homecoming. It took me more time to open the boxes than bringing them up and inside my room. It was like unloading the past behind to move on to the things that were immediate.

The last thing that went out of the basement was "Dominic." Remember him?!

Well, Dominic survived the most severe winter. He survived the isolation, the stationary position, the dark and hidden corners of a basement. Yes he did. And he waited, and waited, for a year.

Thanks to the oil and hand air pump!

And then finally, he was out of the basement. The wind of freedom, touch of ground, and light of movement greeted its wheels.

But his tires were slouchy; they were gasping for air. The rims were rusty; they were screaming for oil.

So I asked my landlord if he had hand air pump and grease oil to revive my Dominic.

He brought those two and I tried to put more life to Dominic. And yes, Dominic came back.

Dominic and Molen together under the sun

For my first week, Dominic brought me to Uni and home. After four or five days, his tires were slowly getting heavier and losing some air. I needed to revive him, again.

My new production place (oh, they call it here office)

With this experience, I decided to have Dominic a partner. I borrowed one bike from Ate Renna in Molenhoek. And I got that bike last week. I introduced Dominic to his new companion, Molen (for obvious reason). Dominic was quiet. I reassured him that Molen will be with us for a while; look after her. She is new in the neighborhood. Then, I left the two bikes for them to have their own time together because they will be together, bound by incidence.

View from my corner

I came back to Nijmegen to do something. And here I would do much of my work - Erasmus building at the 14th floor. I got a corner space (well, four of us got a corner in a rectangular office). The view is exhilarating. The countryside of endless plains feels like inviting me to look further than the trees, hills, and what's obvious in the eyes. (Still connected with research).

Dutch says it with flowers: Welkom!

Biking through the Woods in the Netherlands

Coming out of the house, I met my landowner as he obviously just arrived holding his bike by his side. He asked, “Where are you going?”

“Biking.”

He smiled and said, “Enjoy the day!” as he positioned his bike to rest on a wall bordering our neighbor. He has never missed to say something every time we meet.

I unlocked my bike which was chained beside a metal fence, and replied, “Thanks, sure I will.”

It was five in the afternoon of Saturday. I started to move towards the south where my university and the forested area of Nijmegen are located. I passed rows of similarly-designed houses on both sides of the road. 

I did not really have a plan where to go.

Nijmegen, as in all other places in Holland, has a specially designated lane for bicycles. It makes biking safe, practical, recreational, and pleasurable to everyone. Adults and children are riding side by side on various sizes of bikes.  Biking is more than a transportation means; it a lifestyle in Holland.

As a Filipino studying in Holland, I welcome this lifestyle. Although not entirely new to me, biking is something that I am not used to doing everyday. Now I bike to go to the university and                                                                                                                                                                                   supermarket, to visit friends around the city, and tour around the city that would be my home until the duration of my studies.  Oftentimes, I bike with a destination in mind.

After 20 minutes of several intersection stops and leisurely biking, I could see ahead the green tops of trees closing in on me. I was heading to the direction of Malden, a village just outside Nijmegen.

As I approached the forested area, a stream of refreshing breeze blew on my face, ear and hair. The gusts of wind went through every pore of my skin slicing away the weight of worries and concerns in my body and mind. There was a sudden heightening of senses, of life. I felt that my body opened up to perceive this awakening moment of being present in a particular time and space. My body, as it were, expanded to embrace those things that came along the ride.

Inside the woods, every pedal, left and right foot, synchronized with my heartbeat and breathing. The greeneries of the surroundings brightened the way deeper into an arching dome of trees. Tree trunks peeped from afar while those closer simply stood like guardians of the woods. Dried leaves scattered on the ground. Decaying, some leaves seemed to be part of the soil, thus feeding the earth’s soul.

My bike swooned to the twittering of crisscrossing birds from the branches. I saw another biker several meters ahead of me. He was moving slowly. I moved past him and looked at his face smiling wryly. There was a certain questioning look in his eyes.  But he smiled back. Then, the straight road stretched my sight forward.

As I pedaled down the road, I recalled the biker after me. The man could be in his 50s.

That look, “Why are you rushing?”

Those steady and easy pedals could be signs that he had been to the woods several times. For him, it might not be about getting in and out of the woods. It might not simply be passing through the woods. That forested area is itself a destination. 

When I looked back, I thought I lost him. Then, a tiny colored figure emerged from a distance. He seemed to add colors to the shade and tapestry of the woods.

Upon seeing the end of the road, I decided to go back, retracing the same road. This time, there would be no rush. Deep into the woods, I reached my destination. 

Pak Frans Huskens (1945 - 2010)

I am privileged to have met and actually listened to a man who was esteemed for his intellectual generosity and immense and genuine human curiosity by his peers, students, and friends.

I first met Pak Frans when he came to the Philippines to interview me for a slot in the NWO-funded Ethno-Religious Conflict in Indonesia and the Philippines (ERCIP) program at Radboud University Nijmegen, Netherlands. My interview schedule was at 8:30 AM at the Philippine Social Science Center (PSSC) in Quezon City, Metro Manila, Philippines.

It was a Monday of Oct. 26, 2009. On that day, I had to report to the office in Laguna, about 55 kilometers away from Quezon City. But I was happy to have that panel interview on Monday morning.

During the interview, I remember Pak Frans was seated at the far left of a relatively long table. I was prodded to take the center seat. All throughout the interview, I noticed that Pak Frans was listening perceptively, writing once in a while on his notebook, and nodding intermittently. I remember him saying that I had a good background on theories of conflict. Of course, that made me feel good.

I believe that Pak Frans had this special gift to make people feel good about their work and themselves. He truly believed in the ability of individuals to make and do things possible and turn them into a reality, in their own volition.

When I arrived in Nijmegen from the Philippines, I received an email from Pak Frans welcoming me to his country and city. That was really comforting to have in the midst of new weather, culture, and all other things that made feel strange and isolated inside and even outside my 14-square meter room.

Then, our first scheduled meeting as a research team came. The students were supposed to submit a paper, but he said that a simple presentation of our ideas would be enough for our next meeting. He understood students' adjustments, struggles, personal situations, and pacing of writing. Or he understood us too much that he blurred the distinction between him and students.

After that meeting, in our small conversation, he wondered why Asians study Asia, why not Asians study Europe. In a way, he was challenging me. And in his words, he even encouraged me to write about Europe, to visit as many places in Europe, to enjoy my stay in Holland. "There is so much more here than your studies."

I guess he was then talking from his experiences. During his fieldwork in Indonesia and academic career in the Netherlands, he made personal ties and friendships that would last beyond his lifetime.

I remember that the first set of books that Pak Frans gave us as students were fiction books mostly by Sidney Sheldon. They were not non-fiction books, nor ethnographies. They were novels.

Indeed, there is so much more here. There is so much more.. Thank you Pak Frans.

Denied (again) or postponed for 2014: World Cup victory celebration in the Netherlands

It would have been historic! It would have been amazingly great! And I would have been part of it. Had the Dutch team won the World Cup 2010 in South Africa.

After booking a ticket in the finals by beating Paraguay in the semifinals, the Netherlands came to a great anticipation mood. Days leading to the final game against Spain were a drag. It was one of those longest five (5) days in history of the Netherlands. People busied themselves with just anything. But primary to their minds was the final match, the dreaded and exciting Sunday match of reckoning.

Then, the day dawned. Each second of time synchronized with the beating of millions of Dutch hearts. Stories had been told and shared. Twice in history, the Netherlands came so close to winning the most prestigious football cup in the world. This time, people were telling different stories. They seemed to be ready for another history in the making. It was a beautiful and special day.

The country breathed in orange. TVs were set. Beers were chilling in the fridge. Centrums were packed with orange-clad people congregating in front of wide-screen monitors. Bars, cafes, and restaurants were tuned in to unmistakably world cup bee-like sound of vulvuzuelas.

Shouts and claps for each Dutch player. But some players were more equal than others. People sang mightily and heartily the national anthem.

The game started.

It was clear that this match was going to be close. People were waiting for that one strong hurrah where they could release all the built-up emotions. First half was tense.

Second half was more straining to nerves as both teams had chances of scoring goals. The hurrah and jump were always subdued by the missed opportunities. It ended with sighs.

Extra time. It was a prolonged emotional strain. Then, a goal, by the other side. It pushed down the screams inside. But some more time left, hope was diminishing, vanishing as the time expired.

For the first time in the tournament. No goal. No hurrahs. No release of excited emotions. It was an involution of disbelief, sigh of a nation denied again.

As it is said, the loser in the championship match has the worst feeling of losing.

There is yet another chance in 2014. It may be another long wait, but a worthy wait for a victory celebration.