"Nation Of Servants" and Proud

Yes, the Philippines is a nation of servants!

There are so many words that define what a servant is. The root word of "servant" is serve. It means "to tend to; to attend; to work; to perform a duty or task". The word "Service" means "work done by one person or group that benefits another".

I am proud that we are tagged by Tsip Chao, a columnist of Hongkong, as a nation of servants. The Philippines is the only country that has been tagged that way and I do not think, in any way, that it is bad for us Filipinos. Serving people is a holy calling. Some think that servants are lowly people, but they are not. It takes a lot of patience and understanding to serve others.

All of us in one way or the other can be regarded as servants. Office workers, call center agents, doctors, nurses, vice presidents and CEOs of multinational companies, are all servants. You may wonder how that is possible, but when you analyze thoroughly each and every profession, the main goal of everyone is to satisfy people of the higher stature. The entrepreneur's aim is to give his patrons what they want and that is a way of serving others. So, it is suffice to say that the entrepreneur is also a servant.

We, Filipinos should not be so onion skinned. We are the ones who belittle ourselves. We just read somewhere that there is a columnist who called our country "nation of servants" and we just reacted negatively. Why not react in a positive way?

Mostly, rich people here in the Philippines have house helpers or "Katulong" at home. There are the nannies (Some even have 1 nanny for each of their kids. So, if there are 4 kids in the family, there are 4 nannies as well!), drivers, cooks and laundrywoman, who are employed by affluent Filipino families. They are hired to ease the burden of household concerns.

If some Filipinos do not want to be called servants, does that mean they regard their servants (who are also Filipinos) as lowly humans?

Chip Tsao

 

 

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Holy Week in the Philippines - Flagellants

Celebrating Holy Week is just as huge as celebrating Christmas here in the Philippines.

The Philippines is the only so-called "Catholic country" in the Southeast Asia. 80% of the Filipinos are Roman Catholics, thus, most Filipinos believe that by doing penitents and sacrifices, their sins would be lessened, if not, erased. Catholics do not eat chicken, pork or beef at this time of year. They eat vegetables and fish only.

For those who do not know, the Holy Week in the Philippines is very bloody also... There are certain rituals which they think could be the solution to cleanse their sins. Mostly, male Filipinos do this because it was handed down to us from generations to generations. My father once did this gory ritual. And the ritual I am referring to was the "Flagging of oneself". In our province in Bulacan, it is called "Hampas Dugo" or Spank Blood.

I was only 6 years old when my father decided to underwent this penitence in our province. I cried and told my father not to do it, but then, he insisted saying that this procedure could "make him clean" of his "original sins" and "mortal sins". As a Roman Catholic then also, my mother didn't object.

I was really puzzled as to why should a person hurt himself so that his sins would be forgiven by God.

As my father was walking on the streets barefooted, with a white cloth covering his face, his back was very sore and bloodied. Prior to that, a man wounded my father's back with a sharp object so that blood could ooze from his back. I did not get to see this and I did not want to. My father was holding a rope and at the end of the rope was 24pieces of thick bamboo chips, and he used these to flag himself on his back, where his wounds were! I could not bear to look at what he was doing to himself and so I ran inside my grandmother's house.

It took him 2 hours to round the village with his fellow flagellants. And after showing the village what they had done to themselves, they ran to the nearest river and they took a bath there.

I did not stop crying until I saw him feeling relaxed, inside the house of my grandma. My sister taunted and laughed at me saying that I was such a crybaby and coward.

My father narrated that at first, when he flagged himself, the wound hurt so much but as time passed, it did not hurt anymore because it became numb already. He did this sacrifice only once, but I guess, some of his other "co-flagellants" still do this every Holy Week.

Up to now, the scars on his back are still visible.

Photo courtesy of Joleng