Choosing ‘presidentiables’
I LOVE it that my church posted the seventh commandment, “Huwag magnakaw” (Thou shalt not steal), in its yard. Giving it the benefit of the doubt, I am not so sure there are political overtones, but it prompted a wry smile on my face. You see, a “presidentiable” lives in my community and every now and then, I see his family go to this church—but only to attend the children’s Sunday Mass where children take over the homily as they stage the gospel message. This is a safe way to avoid priests who are brave enough to open the eyes of the faithful on corruption issues in their homilies.
To be fair, my manicurist, who is in her seventies, loves this “presidentiable” and would tell me nice things about him. She’d also say that it’s not true what people say about him and his family, and that people are just trying to destroy them. “Hindi po totoo ang sinasabi nila tungkol sa kanya at kanyang pamilya, Ma’am. Paninira lang yun.”
Of course, I do not believe her. But I neither contradict her nor tell her I won’t vote for her chosen candidate, primarily because she is a very kind and solicitous lady, and secondarily, because she is a senior citizen like me but much older in years. So I just let her be. Thirdly, I do not think I can convince her after all those nights of guarding her political wards and eating all the burgers delivered by branches of a fast-food chain, which, the rumor mill says, are all owned by this political family aside from the many other things they allegedly own, like a fantastic farm.
Our family driver, on the other hand, tells me that we have the same “presidentiable” because he loves his coliseum, but will keep in his heart only one person—his idol Erap—and no one can ever change the way he admires the fellow. “Si Erap po kasi, matagal ko nang idol yan. Hindi mapapalitan ng sino man ang pagtingin ko sa kanya.” I keep mum about his idol, in deference to him. Luckily, he lives somewhere in Las Piñas and won’t be able to vote for his idol.
In my office, the staff knows who I am rooting for, but I let them be especially if they do not volunteer anything. I take it to mean that their silence means consent, or it means “Go ahead and praise your candidate; mine is better.” But at home, where my helpers who come from faraway Mindanao do not really know the candidates and ask me who the best is, they get instant teach-ins from me.
I think that as a clan, we think we are intelligent voters and will vote for the same candidates. Of course, a sister-in-law who said she would vote for a kababayan (townmate) “presidentiable” because he once spoke with her in their native tongue became the butt of all jokes until she shifted to our chosen “presidentiable.”
On Facebook, friends have their own choices but I let them be. The best approach is not to ever debate them on their choices, and to keep quiet if they say something against your choice. I notice that they say nothing, too, when I say things against their candidates. This is the unwritten modus vivendi: Let’s have the freedom to choose and not fight about it if we do not have the same choice.
Among my close friends, we usually ask each other who his or her “presidentiable” and “vice presidentiable” are, and when we have the same candidates we usually give each other high-fives. But if a friend has a different set of candidates, we usually say: “Oh, okay!” No more whys and wherefores, as you might get into a heated argument that may never heal.
The only people you can talk your heart out with are people closest to your heart. My best friend in the province told me she still prefers the people who ruled us for so long. I said, “Why, oh, why, tell me why? Haven’t you realized all the things that we were subjected to under their rule for decades?” She looked at me and never said a word, and I understood.
Yes, there might be such a thing as “Solid North,” which looks like a “Soiled North” to me. And I know why. The streets in my hometown are still mostly named after the strongman and his family. I guess that when you live there, you develop an affinity with this family because every day you get brainwashed into thinking that they are distinguished, honest people because everything is named after them. Sigh.
Yes, politics is in the air! You hope and pray that people use their common sense when choosing their candidates. I did try telling a taxi driver to please not vote for a certain candidate by telling him how rich that candidate and his family have become in spite of the supposed benefits people got from his rule. I said: “Oo nga, nagbigay, pero tingnan mo naman ang ibinigay sa sariling pamilya.” He told me he would think about what I said when I alighted his vehicle. I hope I put a little sense in his head.
Someone posted this quote on Facebook: “Common sense is a flower that doesn’t grow in everyone’s garden.” And a Facebook friend retorted: “Our task then is to grow it in everyone’s garden.”
Sylvia Europa-Pinca is president of Europa Public Relations Inc.
