From the looks of it, you might probably wonder how and why in the world it continues to happen that way. A few months ago, it was Terry "Susan" Hatcher in Desperate Housewives who gave foul remarks on Filipino medical practitioners that swept a portion of this nation into a state of rage. Now, Harry and Paul, purporting to be a "British sketch," has joined the bandwagon. In one of its recent episodes, "a Filipino domestic worker in a maid's uniform danc[es] provocatively in front of a man in an attempt to seduce him," reports an article from ABS-CBN News. Apparently, moves to demand for an apology from BBC are being pushed. How and why are these things happening, for Jesus H. Christ's sake?
Quite frankly, it's not hard to see why. For one, foreigners might have derived their impression of Filipinos working abroad as, in the words of Conrado De Quiros, "toilet bowl cleaners of the world" from doing just that. With the diaspora of our countrymen towards pastures that they see as greener than elsewhere, it makes you think if all else that is left in this country can't truly give us a better life. Which is perhaps why some of us are more than willing to be servants to masters in a foreign soil, or laborers in some distant land where money is plenty only that you have to sweat it out yourself in exchange for a lifetime of milk and honey. You have thousands if not millions of us substituting a wretched life here for yet another wretched life far from home, or perhaps a lesser one at that, it's not hard to see why. Some of us are willing to work as domestic helpers in a foreign household for personal reasons, to which I cannot see anything wrong.
Of course, it's not that each OFW is toiling her or his day cleaning a foreign house, or looking after the kids and the grandparents of a British or an American family. We cannot simply discount the fact that we also have professionals working abroad, lured in no small way by a fat paycheck. Some of them even go to great heights of notable esteem, which is reason enough for us to take pride with what they have done. But whether we like it or not, it's not the only image that we are getting. I recall the time when the entry from a certain dictionary for the term Filipina was referred to as maid, a house helper. I recall the many incidents about our women abroad being harassed, mauled and raped in both flesh and soul out of the gluttony for the body of their employers. I recall the many reports that tell the story of how some of our fellowmen and women abroad have struggled to break free from the bondage of their corrupt masters and to return home. There are countless other stories to tell, but drawing upon all of these, one cannot help but spare an ounce of thought and declare that, unfortunately, foreigners are painting us a sorry picture of who we are.
And it should not surprising at all if the likes of BBC and other foreign media companies are trying to haul that image into their shows just so to rake ratings and live up to the shows' reputation for humor, albeit a cheap one at that. Others have made a laughing stock out of us, it isn't surprising at all if these media outlets seize that image by the hand and shove it straight into their money-making machineries. Anything that's oddly familiar and familiarly odd is sure enough to land a spot in the TV shows of these media organizations.
But that is not to say that they have all the right to do so. That is not to say that they have all the right in the world to add insult to injury, or supplant more injury to insult, to rub more salt on wound and gyrate the scarred limbs all the more. That is not to say that they have all the right in the world to poke our sensibilities further as though we can't see and feel for our selves all these madness from a distance. That is not to say that they were bestowed with the authority to humiliate a race that's already ailing and down on its knees, grovelling before the plank and willing to take the first dive. That is not to say that Brits can safely debase Filipinos out of being servile to the comic needs of their British crowd. That is not to say that BBC can simply tolerate all these by turning its back on a public seeking redress at the least and the necks of this ill media outfit at the most. That is not to say that Brits can easily tread on us, piss on us like smiling urinals and spit on our mouths as a way of showing that they live in a first-world country and we don't. They do. We don't. But that is not to say that they can do all the bloody hell they want to do.
It's only fitting and proper to demand for an apology. But more than that, the best thing that can be done is to make this country more breathable than we can begin to imagine. Breathable in the sense that we no longer have to pluck Dollars and Euros from the wallets of Uncle Sam and Dick; we only have to stay within the borders of this nation and earn a decent pay and life. But looking at the way things are running on this side of the globe, one cannot help but heave a heavy sigh. From the looks of it, we're in a vicious cycle of sending our countrymen and women abroad just to ship back wages other than the occassional shipment of lifeless bodies in wooden containers. To put an end to this insanity, we have to be sane enough to build a stronger home for ourselves, right here, right now. But how can we when more promising foreign baits continue to feed the brain drain? How can we when instinct tells us to go forth the United States or the United Kingdom or the United Arab of Emirates and catch the bigger fish?
Some others say that several years ago, BBC was entirely different. Several years ago, the company never resorted to—borrowing the phrase of Philippine Ambassador Edgardo Espiritu—"gutter humor." Several years ago, the company never resorted to racist remarks no matter how subtle or stark just to grab a commanding lead in the airwaves. But that was eons ago. What can I say? Never has media evolution been so backward than this.
I'd like to raise my middle finger as a grand salute to BBC for a job well-done of giving us humor. French is my second language. I don't need to ask for pardon.
Quite frankly, it's not hard to see why. For one, foreigners might have derived their impression of Filipinos working abroad as, in the words of Conrado De Quiros, "toilet bowl cleaners of the world" from doing just that. With the diaspora of our countrymen towards pastures that they see as greener than elsewhere, it makes you think if all else that is left in this country can't truly give us a better life. Which is perhaps why some of us are more than willing to be servants to masters in a foreign soil, or laborers in some distant land where money is plenty only that you have to sweat it out yourself in exchange for a lifetime of milk and honey. You have thousands if not millions of us substituting a wretched life here for yet another wretched life far from home, or perhaps a lesser one at that, it's not hard to see why. Some of us are willing to work as domestic helpers in a foreign household for personal reasons, to which I cannot see anything wrong.
Of course, it's not that each OFW is toiling her or his day cleaning a foreign house, or looking after the kids and the grandparents of a British or an American family. We cannot simply discount the fact that we also have professionals working abroad, lured in no small way by a fat paycheck. Some of them even go to great heights of notable esteem, which is reason enough for us to take pride with what they have done. But whether we like it or not, it's not the only image that we are getting. I recall the time when the entry from a certain dictionary for the term Filipina was referred to as maid, a house helper. I recall the many incidents about our women abroad being harassed, mauled and raped in both flesh and soul out of the gluttony for the body of their employers. I recall the many reports that tell the story of how some of our fellowmen and women abroad have struggled to break free from the bondage of their corrupt masters and to return home. There are countless other stories to tell, but drawing upon all of these, one cannot help but spare an ounce of thought and declare that, unfortunately, foreigners are painting us a sorry picture of who we are.
And it should not surprising at all if the likes of BBC and other foreign media companies are trying to haul that image into their shows just so to rake ratings and live up to the shows' reputation for humor, albeit a cheap one at that. Others have made a laughing stock out of us, it isn't surprising at all if these media outlets seize that image by the hand and shove it straight into their money-making machineries. Anything that's oddly familiar and familiarly odd is sure enough to land a spot in the TV shows of these media organizations.
But that is not to say that they have all the right to do so. That is not to say that they have all the right in the world to add insult to injury, or supplant more injury to insult, to rub more salt on wound and gyrate the scarred limbs all the more. That is not to say that they have all the right in the world to poke our sensibilities further as though we can't see and feel for our selves all these madness from a distance. That is not to say that they were bestowed with the authority to humiliate a race that's already ailing and down on its knees, grovelling before the plank and willing to take the first dive. That is not to say that Brits can safely debase Filipinos out of being servile to the comic needs of their British crowd. That is not to say that BBC can simply tolerate all these by turning its back on a public seeking redress at the least and the necks of this ill media outfit at the most. That is not to say that Brits can easily tread on us, piss on us like smiling urinals and spit on our mouths as a way of showing that they live in a first-world country and we don't. They do. We don't. But that is not to say that they can do all the bloody hell they want to do.
It's only fitting and proper to demand for an apology. But more than that, the best thing that can be done is to make this country more breathable than we can begin to imagine. Breathable in the sense that we no longer have to pluck Dollars and Euros from the wallets of Uncle Sam and Dick; we only have to stay within the borders of this nation and earn a decent pay and life. But looking at the way things are running on this side of the globe, one cannot help but heave a heavy sigh. From the looks of it, we're in a vicious cycle of sending our countrymen and women abroad just to ship back wages other than the occassional shipment of lifeless bodies in wooden containers. To put an end to this insanity, we have to be sane enough to build a stronger home for ourselves, right here, right now. But how can we when more promising foreign baits continue to feed the brain drain? How can we when instinct tells us to go forth the United States or the United Kingdom or the United Arab of Emirates and catch the bigger fish?
Some others say that several years ago, BBC was entirely different. Several years ago, the company never resorted to—borrowing the phrase of Philippine Ambassador Edgardo Espiritu—"gutter humor." Several years ago, the company never resorted to racist remarks no matter how subtle or stark just to grab a commanding lead in the airwaves. But that was eons ago. What can I say? Never has media evolution been so backward than this.
I'd like to raise my middle finger as a grand salute to BBC for a job well-done of giving us humor. French is my second language. I don't need to ask for pardon.
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