Right now as I sit here and think back to my trip to the Philippines last July, I am remembering standing sockless, in wet shoes that are quickly drying in the hot sun, a cart rolling by slowly, piled high with boiled peanuts, unending trails of steam rising from the heap (much more delicious than that might sound), and the excited buzz of the people all around me holding up banners, signs and umbrellas that not long ago were used as pathetic shields from a sudden and what to me, was a mighty rainstorm, now being used to shelter sweating heads from a sweltering sun. And I am feeling what might be joy. There is only one day left before our trip is over and we are at a giant mobilization to counter the annual State of the Nation Address or SONA given by president Aquino. The people have gathered by the thousands to march and to make known the true of state of the nation of the Philippines.
We are a good distance away from the stage, but we can see and hear the speakers- representatives from each sector as they come up one by one to report and give witness to injustice, to unspeakable atrocities and also to the growing resilience in each person there. The whole thing is in Tagalog and under any other circumstance, I would be totally lost, unable to understand the language, but the past 9 days have been an intense whirlwind of immersion with these people and the different sectors. Our hosts had put in great efforts in making sure we were able to meet as many different people groups who lives are directly and constantly endangered by the capitalist endeavors of the rich few and in power. We marched with these people and were excited to recognize some familiar faces as the migrant workers and the women’s groups and the LGBT group went by us, or the factory workers huddled under store canopies during the brief but crazy rainstorm, or the farmers crouching down on the concrete to eat their lunches unloaded from trucks and Jeepneys (old military jeeps decorated in countless, sometimes whacky ways and re-purposed for public transportation). Though a handful of us had no mastery of the Filipino language, we all knew what was being said up on that stage. The people invited us into their space, tirelessly and generously shared their stories with us in great detail, and allowed us to be able to stand in solidarity with them on that last day.
I think what I felt that day was joy. The joy that comes from knowing that even people who have suffered and continue to experience loss over and over again can be so full of hope and determination and love. I guess joy is the feeling that comes with the hope of liberation. It replaces fear and stuckness and isolation. This is what was shared with me and what I brought back with me from the Philippines, an unyielding belief in the struggle, the people, and impending liberation for all people everywhere.
