Lucky
I probably have about a dozen drafts for my write-up to this album. But none doesn’t feel right or seem accurate enough to describe what I saw and how I felt. The situation has improved though. From about 100 thousand internally displaced persons, the number is down to 25,550 individuals or 4,775 families as of June 30. 67% of these individuals and families are in the ‘Grandstand’ (Joaquin Enriquez Sports Complex). It is truly a gated, secluded community of harsh and desperate realities.
Like most of us, I am lucky. I am lucky to have not been born or exposed to extreme conditions like what the IDPs are going through. I am lucky to not have come from a marginalized group.
It could have been me. It could have been my family in one of those dilapidated tents or temporary shanties. It could have been me at the City Council building; enduring the scorching heat of the midday sun to queue for rice donations. I could have been that kid who, as usual, had no slippers or clothes while playing in a muddy, filthy street. I could have been one of those men asking for referral slips from Camp Managers so my sick family can be checked and attended at hospitals for free. I could have been that little boy, trying to make out of what paper and pencil are left to try to write or draw my thoughts. I could have been the one who was judged second class, mendicant, unproductive and hopeless. But I am lucky.
I wish I was a Vanderbilt so I could be like Anderson. Then I’d have my own news program where I can talk about the plight of the IDPs. Or maybe a Bunuel, so I can be like Diego who will feature how everyday life is in Grandstand. A crazier wish is to be one of Bill and Melinda’s children, so I won’t have to worry about earning and saving but will focus instead on professional philanthropy or social service work. Even the chance of thinking or wishing about these is sheer luck. I could be thinking and wishing for something simple and practical but I am lucky to have been privileged with these kind of imagination.
Among the lucky ones, those I consider heroes are the young and determined social workers. They choose to work for more hours than they should be working. They chose to live in tents where beds do not have mattresses or rest rooms are not comfortable. They chose the challenges at the evacuation center, dealing with thousands of needy individuals, than to go home and spend time with their respective families after a day’s work.
Like most of you, I am lucky in terms of the lottery of birth. But there are many who are not. It helps set things in perspective when we realize that we could not have been this fortunate. That if not for luck, they could have been in our shoes.