Now that the whole Pinoy world (well, maybe most of it) knows about Jose Antonio Vargas, why am I left with a big question? And even a few smaller queries? Meanwhile, why is it that a few folks with whom I’ve discussed Mr. Vargas’ dilemma find his motives suspect? Didn’t one of them bristle at the fact that he seems a shameless self-promoter and unpatriotic to boot? “Is the Philippines really such a total backwater, which is why he doesn’t want to return to the land of his birth?” she demanded?
But didn’t I point out that he’s just like countless Pinoys who dream the American Dream? Didn’t he, in fact, declare over the ABC TV network that “In my heart, I’m American,” and in his long piece in the New York Times magazine state that he’s been an exemplary citizen in many ways (despite the decades of deception), hence his hopes for a fair judgment from the immigration authorities?
Didn’t this make me hark back to that survey taken some decades ago at a Manila university where students were asked which nationality they preferred to have—with almost all of them replying American? Do young Pinoys today, one wonders, or even older ones still feel the same? Would they find it a real quandary to be in Mr. Vargas’ shoes and hope he gets a sympathetic hearing from the US immigration authorities? Or did his declaration that “I’ve lived the American Dream” make some Pinoys resentful of the fact that as a TNT (tago-ng-tago, Filipino slang for an illegal alien in the US which means someone who is always hiding) he wants to bypass the proper channels to that over-subscribed quota for which honest migrant applicants wait for ages to receive the nod?
If he is able to sway the authorities, with the help of supporters in the US, will his success be attributed to sympathy with his relatives’ aspirations for his future, his professed patriotism or his journalistic talent? If he loses, would the main sticking point be the ramifications involving US immigration policies?
Hasn’t all this made me ponder on the large numbers of our migrant workers who would love to be able to stay in the countries in which they have found proper jobs? Don’t numerous OFWs I’ve met over the years in Hong Kong wish they could become permanent residents in the territory (a privilege not extended to migrant workers)? Haven’t countless numbers of them made this city a jumping-off point for migration to Canada? Don’t some of them consider it extremely lucky to hook up with Britons, Australians, Americans and other Westerners because they know they’ll escape poverty and end up in their mates’ home countries? So isn’t the dream not just an American one but a Western Dream instead?
Don’t some of the Pinays have other types of dreams like Chinese, Pakistani or Nepali ones? Aren’t those who’ve acquired Chinese husbands content in the knowledge that they’ll never lack for basic necessities and, in fact, may enjoy comfortable lives so they won’t constantly have to ask radio evangelists to pray for “financial breakthroughs” like they do over Pinoy radio programs here? Are those who link up with Pakistani and Nepali migrant men confident that they can be assured of husbands who bring in larger paychecks than the small numbers of Pinoy men who work in the territory mainly as drivers (who sometimes turn feckless and unfaithful—but who can blame males for succumbing when they’re surrounded by mobs of females?)?
Didn’t I think of my friend Freda, who was so desperate to stay on in Hong Kong after she lost her job and working visa, that she went underground, working illegally for almost a dozen years? And didn’t a knight in shining armor in the form of a divorced British businessman appear on the scene and assure her she needn’t return to the hardship she’d left behind in Davao because he’d wait while she spent a few months in jail before being deported? After all her travails, isn’t she now back in Hong Kong using her married name, living happily ever after? (See my story in the Sunday Inquirer Magazine of Dec. 20, 2009.)
So can I now get to the big question I mentioned at the start, which is to wonder why Mr. Vargas sounds so desperate? Is he convinced he’d be totally miserable if he had to return to the land of his birth? Hasn’t he realized that the Philippines has developed in ways, big and small, and that its citizens generally aren’t as disgruntled they once were? Am I being unreasonable in thinking how nice if he said, “I’ve had a good life in America, now’s the time for me to go back to my native land and see what I can do to help it”? Wouldn’t he be a boon to Philippine journalism if, once in Manila, he helped lift the profession’s standards? Wouldn’t many aspiring journalists be able to gain from his expertise and guidance to make our newspapers less suitable for just wrapping fish and more like genuine providers of information, knowledge and edification? Wouldn’t it be a nice change to be able to read news stories that don’t make one wince with their shallow reporting, mishandled English grammar, sloppy editing and general lack of imagination? Am I being unrealistic in wishing all this?
Maybe I am because Jose Antonio Vargas obviously will only be happy if he can stay on in the country he loves.