Nick looked as if he absorbed all this and remained interested. He said, “I hope I haven’t left you with the impression that I personally blame you, anymore than I would want to be blamed (blamed for what? blamed for all of America’s sins). Some people would blame you, though, and say it was because America was a democracy, and people run democracies. (I wanted to remind him that dictators were also people.) Also, your corporations were culpable. Nick said he would prefer not to say anything bad about the American people, because he basically liked them. But the American government…well, that was something else. The Philippine people recently reelected Marcos. After the atmosphere of optimism that had characterized his first term, now we have a totally different situation…especially for ordinary Filipinos…reflected in corruption, poverty, crime and violence. Marcos made his reputation by investing in ambitious projects, which benefited, yes, everyone, but it was the elite that benefited the most. ”Let me put it this way,” Nick said, “he has given the people a beautiful Luneta, our elongated national plaza, but he tremendously over-billed us for it.”
By the tone of the conversation, I knew it was getting time for me to leave, but I didn’t quite want to concede. He poured me another cup of tea, and continued.
Ordinary Filipinos still look up to Americans. It has always been unjustifiable, though. Thus, all our stated goodwill, all of our stated brotherhood and how we look at each other, it all feels hollow. For example, “We are friends” only meant “we are friends when it was in your best interest,” or still more precisely, “Friends, as long as we gave you preferential treatment!” What made it profitable for you was our “special” relationship. If you came over here, you could see our beautiful country, invest your money here, take out all the profits, and watch your profits grow. Do you know our word for toothpaste is Colgate.
Nick was late for a class by now, for we both, during our unhealthy exchange, hadn’t kept track of the time. We had exhausted each other. He unplugged his hotplate, and we said our good-byes, after which he went his way and I went mine.
Randy Ford
