Choices

When people ask me to define love, I say, "Love is like handing someone a gun, having them point it at your heart, and trusting them to never pull the trigger." (Sponge Bob)

When they ask me why I laugh at my mistakes and even write them with pride in my blogs, I say, "I'm not crazy. I just don't give a damn!" (Daffy Duck)

When one time I was conducting a group activity, a student asked what road sign I love the most, I said, "I like dead end signs. I think they're kind. They at least have the decency to let you know you're going nowhere…" (Bugs Bunny)

And when for the nth time a friend would ask me what do I get from writing, I'm not even sure if there are good old souls out there visiting my site, I just smile and say, "Kung gusto mong maging manunulat, eh di magsulat ka. Simple." (Bob Ong)

And last night when Eva said she wants to quit from her work because nobody believes in her, her boss got mad at her, she doesn't even have friends at her agency, and she's crying like hell, I said, "Either you stay to prove your worth or you quit and just show them you're a loser, you have to strive for your happiness." (MY original)

My CHOICES: I remained believing in love. I continued spicing up my mistakes and rewriting my life, accepting failure but keep on dreaming until words would fade into thin air.

Dec 13, 2007

A Woman's Status

There was once a visitor who had been to the same barrio five years back. He wanted to see for himself the progress and processes of rural development. For many years, he had donated money to his favorite village projects. It was natural he would spend a full day visiting the farmers and hearing accounts of their achievements.

At the end of the day, the visitor left even more convinced and thoroughly impressed. He especially liked the self-help dimension and the evident pride exuded by the farmers. Income had doubled over the years. The people’s economic organization enabled them to manage their own credit, consumers and marketing needs.

There is only one thing the visitor found unacceptable during that visit. The status of women was below his expected standards. The women took second-class position yet they were as able and as hardworking. There was not a single woman among the leadership structures of the barangay council and the cooperatives. The visitor was particularly turned-off when he observed women walking a few feet behind their husband on the way to the farm.

It was natural that on the second visit, he looked for any change in the role of women. True, the economic and health aspects continued to advance. But it was the improvement in the position of women he keenly observed.

As the visitor strolled the familiar main road, he noted a farmer and his wife walking towards the wide path leading to the rice fields. He could not believe what he saw. The woman was actually walking in front of her husband. She was at least ten feet ahead. A sight unseen in the past and not heard of in all the years.

The visitor approached the farmer who trailed behind. “Hey, women have come a long way in their status. Why, your wife actually walks ahead of you now where before she had to walk behind as a sign of submission and difference to macho man.”

“Well, yes, my wife now has to walk ahead of me,” responded the farmer almost meekly.

“That is great!” said the visibly pleased visitor.

The farmer thought for a while and added, “Yes, she now walks ahead because recently, rebel bandits left behind a number of land mines and other booby traps.”



Now how about you, have you treated women you meet the same way as the farmer treats his wife? Hope not.

2 comments:

Sandy Carlson said...

That's just awful. The women are as selfless as the men are selfish in this tale. Yet I can't imagine feeling so worthless that I must go ahead because I'm expendable.

Reminds me of something George Bush said about his wife Laura when the two of them had lunch with Dick Cheney. She had gone on ahead because he was talking to reporters. "She's the taster," he said in a comment that indicated the friction between president and vice president. It's really the same story as yours, isn't it?

Marjo said...

Quite right Sandy. Hope there will be lesser men who do such things to women. In fact, all men have been carried by a woman for nine months.