"Romance"
according to the Humpty Dumpty New World
Dictionary is a noun meaning the process by which people exchange
affection. It can also be an adjective. A romance novel, for instance, is about
love gained and lost and gained again. And lost. And gained again. And lost.
You get the picture.
Romance does not
necessarily mean sex. But it might encompass sex.
Occasionally it is
used as a verb. "To romance the stone" for instance. That has nothing
to do with sex, I think. But I don't really know what it means as I have not
read the book. What is it, King Arthur or Harry Potter, or another one of those
ancient British mythologies? I think the film version starred Dick Van Dyck and
the stiff upper lipped lady with the umbrella.
Romance does not
appear to be big in the Philippines, but that is just appearances.
No one holds hands
in the Philippines. I'm thinking of boy girl romance here, or even old people
romance. You seldom see a couple walking down the mall or through the park or
along the beach with the guy's arm around the girl.
Those are perhaps
the two most common expressions of romance on the planet, short of kissing.
Holding hands and walking arm in arm. They don't happen much in the
Philippines.
Nor does kissing in
public for that matter.
I gave my new
mother-in-law a kiss on the cheek after her daughter and I were married and the
whole wedding party fainted in shock. It was an awkward cross cultural moment I
have taken care not to repeat. I was just happy to be in a family here.
Westerners are
inclined to ask "why is that"? Why the lack of romantic expressions
among Filipinos? Non-Filipino men have heard how sweet Filipinas are, and what
excellent wives they are. But it becomes quickly apparent that you keep your
hands to yourself in public.
Well, as in most
things bizarre, I figure it can be traced back to the Catholic Church, the
ultra-conservative, repressed, hyper-prudent values that suggest a kiss means
sex is right around the corner, as if God forgot to give Man, or Woman,
discipline.
And, indeed, the
prude in prudent abounds. When we were building our house and my wife was seen
on a motorbike with the electrician (going to town to buy electrical things),
the rumor quickly circulated in our barangay that they were having an affair.
From that, the Shirlylock Holmsies (the women sleuths of the barangay) quickly
deduced that we only had one kid because my sexual motor had run out of gas.
Nevermind that we had only one kid because it takes a lot of work to raise the
demanding little beasts.
So clearly, this is
a dangerous society in which even the APPEARANCE of romance destines you for
the court of chekka opinion. This court, of course, emulates the objectivity of
the real courts in the Philippines where the cases ride largely on factors other
than facts.
It pays not to
express romantic inclinations in public in the Philippines if you don't want
your reputation trashed. Even if the reputation trashing is a pack of lies.
Never mind that lies are a bigger sin than kissing your wife, boy howdy. At
least I think so, with my Western quirks of being a romantically expressive
guy.
But the
inconsistencies go way beyond that.
Filipinos are good
at sex. They are potent, I suppose you could say. Babies come about a year
apart. One's out of the oven and the cooking starts again right quick like.
And lots of times
the cooking is with the neighbor or the hubbie's brother or the baker, the
barber, or the candlestick maker. There are mistresses to the left and bf's to
the right. It is wild.
Totally
undisciplined, it would seem.
So the public
display is disciplined beyond perfection, projecting an angelic purity that
simply does not exist in the human condition. And behind the scenes its one big
whorehouse of flirtations and engagements and romping in the hay. (I'm not
being disparaging here, I am just striving to paint a stark picture. The way it
LOOKS to us outsiders.)
You can correct me
if my artistic skills are missing the mark.
I don't have a
problem with sex, and if people want to cheat on their spouses, that is up to
them. They will ultimately pay the emotional price. I don't like that game,
myself, as it seems to undermine the dignity and honor of one's gift of love.
It is a personal value thing to me, aspiring to be something other than an
animal of base desires.
Where I have the
problem is living the lie of the public representations of purity.
I'd rather be honest
and hold my wife's hand at the mall. I love her and like holding her hand. It
is a beautiful emotion, is it not, enjoying another person so much? Well, out
of respect for the conservative side of this different culture, I act with restraint.
But I let her know in subtle ways that I enjoy being with her. I lean into her
with my shoulder as we sit gobbling an overload at Greenwich. Touch her hands
as we gad about. Smile at her a lot.
I'm sure most of the
people at the mall say to themselves "she is a prostitute". She is
young and pretty and I am old and . . . um, smart. Ahahahahahaha!
That is another
inconsistency, is it not? People going so easily to nasty thoughts? Wrong
thoughts.
I doubt that Jesus
did that.
It's like the
hyper-religious Philippines missed a lesson or two in Sunday school. So there
is an inconsistency between what Jesus preached and what people do. Little
things like kindness.
It is hard to get
the simple idea of honorable thoughts across in a non-romantic culture that is
thick with suspicion and cheating. I'm
guessing that most cheaters figure other people cheat because they would cheat if
they had the opportunity.
The Shirlylock
Holmsies in this town, if they could climb on the back of the motorbike with
the (handsome, well-off) electrician, would likely ride that cycle directly to
his home and bed if they had the chance. That's why they so easily figure
that's what my wife is going to do.
Or I could be wrong,
too. Maybe they just like telling stories. They are upset that my wife, who
lived most of her life in a shack, is now rich and lives in a big, modern house
while they are still poor. So "bring her down!" Show the little hussy.
Spread nasty stories.
Now this is not a
blog with a conclusion, because I don't have any recommendations for anybody as
to how to correctly align all the inconsistencies I observe here. I think maybe
the Church does not believe in alignment or logic or even kindness. It is the
ever-present judgmental uber-parent, whipping up the guilt and forgiveness as
if ordained with the power of God.
Far be it from me to
suggest people find a God who believes in honesty, discipline and love, with
expressions to match.
You know, a God who
appreciates romance.
