The Jeepney is an iconic mode of public transport in the Philippines.
It is a kind of minibus. But they come in many sizes, and some of them are not so mini.
You get in and out from the back.
Inside, you sit sideways, shoulder to shoulder, looking inside.
It is said they started using the jeeps left behind by the American army after the Second World War for public transport. Hence the name.
For some reason they decided to continue to use the same distinctive shape, for the jeepney.
Many are finished in shinny, metallic, silver colour.
Many are in bright colours.
Many are extravagantly decorated.
It is said that the government wants to phase them out, to replace them with more modern, efficient minibuses, e-jeepneys. By the end of 2023. Catch them before they disappear.
Our advance team went to the Philippines to explore the possibility of setting up new projects there. We are interested in the Philippines for a number of reasons. First of all, it is one of the foreign countries that are closest to Hong Kong in terms of physical distance. It is somewhat familiar to us, partially because of the hundreds of thousands of foreign domestic workers from the Philippines working in Hong Kong. It is relatively easy for us to work there because English is commonly spoken. It is also attractive because of the strong service culture embodied by the strong Catholic presence, and in the government initiatives such as the National Service Training Program (NSTP).
Life in much of the Philippines is dominated by typhoons, which regularly sweep through the country from July to October each year. Typhoons bring strong winds, heavy rains, and much flooding, causing much damage and misery. It is always the poor who suffer the most.
Our partner, Ateneo de Manila University, introduced us to Barangay Banaba, one of the areas where the flooding is a matter of life and death each year. Barangay is a territorial and administrative local government unit in the Philippines. Barangay Banaba is a barangay in the municipality of San Mateo, in the province of Rizal. It is only an hour or so (when there is no traffic jam) from Manila. But it might as well be another country.
It is situated at the junction of the Marikina River and one of its branches. When the typhoons come with heavy rains, the river swells, flooding the low lying areas on its banks. Many houses are poorly constructed, in the low lying areas. When they are flooded, a boat, or a hastily-constructed raft, becomes a life-saving device. Residents in some of the low-lying areas told us that the floods cover the first floor regularly. Some of the worse floods cover the second floor.
One of the neighbourhood organisations showed us a physical map identifying the hundreds of houses constructed of light materials in red, and those with semi-concrete in blue. These are the most vulnerable. Those constructed with concrete are in yellow, green and white. These are more sturdy. The map is very useful for disaster prevention and relief. Unfortunately, the map was made in 2013 and has not been updated.
Along parts of the river, houses lie below the surface of the water. A retaining wall prevents the houses from being inundated - in dry season. When the typhoon comes, the river overflows the wall, and the houses are inundated. The flood consists of not just muddy river water, but also debris and sewage.
Later on, we visited another community on the shores of the big lake, Laguna de Bay. Here the fishing community face similar threats from the flooding. Their life blood comes from the fishing. Hence moving away from the water front is not an option. So they are resigned to evacuating from the flood each year, returning after the flood to clean up, and repeat. Their only hope is for their children to grow up, find a job in the city, and move sway. Yet half of the children do not attend school, because they need all the manpower they have for the fishing.
The needs are obvious and varied. Maps for better understanding of the community and to provide needed services. Public health measures to prevent and deal with diseases such as high blood pressure and diabetes - most people do not go to the clinic or hospitals for small ailments because they cannot afford the costs and by the time that they do go, it is often too late. Education and training on sanitation can, of course, improve health. Education for the children can provide a better future. Knowledge and skills to produce higher value crops and products can improve livelihood. The list goes on. What, and how much, can we possibly do, in collaboration with our local partners?
On Easter Sunday, we went on a short hike around a little pond in Sheung Shui.
There were lots of dead leaves on the ground. No one bothered to pick them up, or sweep them away. Leaving them around to make beautiful patterns. Dead is inevitable. It can be sad and deplorable. But it can also leave a legacy, be beautiful.
The pond is not big, but makes a good impression. There is little wind, and the water is still. Only little insects and a few little ducks break the surface. Not unwelcome. Pleasing even.
The reflections of the hills, trees of all sorts make an attractive impression of symmetry, reflective.
Dead branches are almost indistinguishable from their reflections from the water. Death can be beautiful if it leaves something valuable, meaningful behind.
There are few people here. It feels quiet, because of the absence of man-made noise. It is actually far from being quiet. Full of chirps from birds and insects, actually. But they are enjoyable, pleasing to the ear. In contrast, people make mostly noise.
This is God’s creation. The pond was man-made, a reservoir to store water for growing things, presumably. Left alone, nature - God’s creation - takes over and makes it beautiful. A new creation. Somehow it feels right to come here on Easter.
A friend asked me why the day that Christ died is called “Good” Friday. It is a great tragedy, that Christ had to die, not for doing something bad, but to atone for our sins,the evils of the world.Yet it is precisely because of Christ’ sacrifice, that we can have hope, of redemption from sin and evil.That is the reason why this Friday can be considered “Good”, even though Christ’s death is a horrible, horrible thing.
For us the Chinese, Good Friday-Easter comes right after Ching Ming Festival, when we remember our dead, our ancestors. It is a great combination, as if by design. Chinese tradition calls us to honour our dead, believing that they continue to exist somehow. Ritual says we should provide them with - through burning - food, clothes, houses, money, …, (all made with paper) so that they can have a comfortable afterlife. That is why so many go to sweep the graves on Ching Ming Festival. Yet some lingering uncertainty remain. What happens if their descendants are no longer around, or otherwise incapable, or unwilling to provide for them? Do they suffer then? Do the dead continue in this form of existence, forever? What is going to happen to them in the end? The fierce and intense fire that consumes all the sacrificial stuff is both mesmerising and seemingly indicative of something. What is that something?
Christianity believes that the bad things, evils even, of this world cannot be redeemed through our own efforts. The evils of this world are so terrible that it is beyond human ability to redeem. On this point I believe there is general agreement. Christianity teaches further that such great evil requires great sacrifice, from Christ Himself, to redeem. Now that Christ has paid the ultimate price with His own suffering and death, followed by resurrection, thus overcoming evil and death itself, we can also hope to rise with Him in the end.
Many Christians believe there is nothing for us to do except to believe in Him. Except that Christ did ask us to follow His example, to suffer with Him, to the extent of dying with Him. Many Christians emphasise the “believe” part but conveniently forget the “suffer” part. On Good Friday, people go to church, sing, pray, perhaps even fast, … and, after that, just go on living as before. There seems to be nothing to do but to remember Him. To enjoy life in the mean time, and just wait to go to heaven. This is ritual piety, otherwise known as “going through the motion”. Is that all there is? Is that what piety is about? What about the “follow me” part? The “suffer for righteousness” part? What about the “do unto the smallest among you” part? The “when I am hungry/thirsty/in jail/… you provide for me” part? What about those? Is faith all about hope for the future, but nothing about this world? What about hunger, thirst, exploitation, selfishness, meanness, oppression, injustice? If faith has nothing to say about those, what good is it?
The richest and most technologically-advanced countries can still be terribly unprepared for the pandemic, lacking even the most basic equipment such as masks.
Death rates are highest among the richest countries. Wealth can not be trusted to protect against the pandemic.
The most vulnerable populations are the elderly, not surprisingly. This is partly the result of the improvements in medicine, in the technologies for prolonging life. However, that does not translate into better protection for the elderly. Longer life does not equate to a safer, better, dignified life.
Mass production and concentration of the production of necessary products, such as masks and protective gowns, in a small number of countries (as little as one) is a tremendously risky strategy for dealing with threats that affect the whole world.
Prior pandemics have been faced at least in 1918 (“Spanish” flu), 1957 (“Asian” flu), 1968 (“Hong Kong” flu, and 2009 (“Swine” flu). Yet the experiences did not seem to have resulted in better preparedness.
All the high technologies, computers, artificial intelligences, and other technological advances have made little impact against an existential threat such as the pandemic.
Countries who seemed to do well in the beginning ended up suffering as much as the others. They flip flop in their strategies. Policies seemed driven more by emotions, politics, and economics rather than reason and concerns for suffering.
When a global coordinated response to the world-wide threat is needed, the world fails miserably. Countries, particularly the rich ones, demonstrated that they will choose to be selfish rather than magnanimous. They fight ugly for the resources. They refuse to share vaccines with the poorer countries, even when they are more than enough. Countries attack each other for starting the pandemic rather than cooperate in fighting it.
When the next pandemic hits, and it will, will the world have learned the lessons and be better prepared? Will they act more honourably? Will the fantastic paradigm-shifting technology protect them against the pandemic?
An elderly Chinese lady seemed to have passed out on the street. Someone called for an ambulance. Two young Chinese ladies held her head. Some Filipino ladies held umbrellas over her. Many people stopped and asked about the elderly lady, some offering to help. A man suggested to put something under her head, others said perhaps better not to move her. She seemed pale, but conscious.
Soon an ambulance came. The elderly lady seemed able to answer the medical officers’ questions. She was lifted onto a gurney. They collected her walking stick and bag. She was quickly moved into the ambulance. A street drama ended.
Scenes like this happen all the time, all over Hong Kong. Surely also in other places all over the world. People are evidently capable of acts of kindness to each other. To total strangers. To people who look different, speak a different language, with very different background.
Why, then, are we also so small minded in dealing with each other? Why do we fight over seemingly small matters? Why do we always have to have the advantage, and be “greater” than others? Why do we dislike and even hate so much those people who look, speak, think, believe differently?
Which is our true nature? The good side or the bad side? Why it is so difficult to cultivate the good side, to overcome the bad side? Why can’t we get along with each other?
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