Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Valentine's Day (and the lack of divorce law) in the Philippines

...Just wanted to share with you all a Reuters article that I found today. Happy Valentine's Day!

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Filipinos celebrate Valentine's Day discreetly

By Karen Lema Mon Feb 12, 10:17 PM ET

The days before and after February 14 are red-hot for the Philippines' motel industry.

In this largely Roman Catholic country, Valentine's Day is spent with wives and husbands. But its eve and aftermath are reserved for lovers.

"The busiest days for us are February 13 and 15," said Steve Perez, assistant business manager of Manila's Victoria Court..."



(go see for yourself here)

"...a drive-in hotel that specializes in discreet reservations.


The budget hotel, which has a lady with a finger over her lips as its logo, has 106 rooms and they are all occupied during what Filipinos jokingly refer to as days for "No.2 or No.3" Love, marriage and children are heavily emphasized in this Southeast Asian country, where syrupy ballads top the charts and Valentine's Day is celebrated in a red and pink riot of roses, hearts and cupids.

But despite widespread devotion to the Catholic faith, extramarital affairs are often accepted in the Philippines, where divorce is illegal and a macho culture encourages men to father several families.

Sociologists say hundreds of thousands of people remain locked in loveless unions and seek relationships elsewhere.

"If I had an option I would leave my wife," said a 29-year-old man, who asked not to be named. He said he had been having an affair for seven months.

The Philippines and Malta are the only countries in the world without a divorce law. Many Filipinos are opposed to such legislation, fearing it could disrupt family life and their religious beliefs.

Couples can file for annulments but they must convince the courts that their marriage was void to begin with. They can also aim for a legal separation but that would prevent them from re-marrying.

Faced with such hurdles, most unhappy married couples stick it out. Some look for love elsewhere.

MISTRESS ETIQUETTE

While men have been the traditional protagonists of affairs, Filipino women, particularly in the more permissive urban milieux, are increasingly taking the lead.

"Before, women coming in to our hotel would hide their faces but now they have become more open," Perez said. "Sometimes the women are even the one on the driver's seat."

An etiquette book for mistresses, written by Julie Yap Daza (she wrote it in 1994; she also wrote Manners for Moving Up, a "Filipino guide to the art of social climbing"), a television talk-show host and columnist, is a bestseller at local bookstores.

Daza tells mistresses they are "holiday orphans," who must be "ready to give up Valentine's Day, Christmas Day, New Year's Day, Holy Week and even her man's birthday." For as Rule No.1 in her book says, "Mistress is not Mrs. Know your place."

Celebrities or politicians changing partners with the regularity of square dancers have been a staple of Philippine gossip columns and a wandering eye is not a liability on the election stump.

Deposed president Joseph Estrada was swept to power in 1998 despite fathering children with several women.

A number of divorce bills have been filed in Congress but none have succeeded due to opposition from priests and Christian groups.

"Reality tells us that there are many failed, unhappy marriages across all Filipino classes," said Lisa Maza (of the Gabriela Women's Party), author of a divorce bill.

"Many couples especially from the marginalized sectors, who have no access to courts, simply end up separating without the benefit of legal processes."

Maza's bill proposes to allow, among others, the much-abused excuse - "irreconcilable differences" - as grounds to end a marriage.

The 5,000 plus annulment cases pending in courts show that there are many couples who are desperate to get out of failed unions, Maza said.

But sociology Professor Josephine Aguilar said divorce was not the solution.

"Everything could be resolved through proper communication," said Aguilar, who got married last year.

"Couples should not just accept the pluses of their partners but also their minuses because when you accept that, you will understand the idea of a perfect marriage."

A 46-year-old father of two, interviewed by Reuters, agreed. The man, who asked not to be identified, said he will not miss the subterfuge around Valentine's Day so he can slip off for an assignation with his mistress.

His affairs devastated his family and eventually "guilt" seeped in.

"I chose to stay with my family because it was the right thing to do, not just morally, but for everyone to be happy," he said. "I have learned not to expect anything from my wife and just accept her as a gift from God."

Monday, February 05, 2007

Going Home

by Isabelle H. Lacson

I often refer to a normal summer vacation as “going home.” As if my life were backwards, like going to college is a vacation and flying across the Pacific Ocean to a tropical country is returning to what I perceive as “normal.” But it is. Although I do have a physical house in Los Angeles County, “home” to me will always be this little condominium in Makati, the Downtown LA of Manila. What is it like for a native Manilan to return "home" after months of American exposure?

Albeit what I like to call the “LAX Struggle” that involves a long line of confused Filipinos, numerous boxes with addresses in bold letters (BARANGAY MAYTUNAS, LOT 7, BLOCK 3) and that completely violating security procedure that involves not only taking off your shoes and socks, but taking your laptop out of your overpacked bag and putting it back in; going home is always (and I did pull out a dictionary to find the perfect word) nice.

Besides the initial comments of “you’re so fat” (thanks Dad) or “marunong ka pa mag-Tagalog?” (thanks Tito), going home makes me realize how different I’ve become. The last time I left for LA from Manila, one of my best friends texted me minutes before I boarded the plane and said, “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown.” And I only pray that he was talking about vertical growth, not horizontal growth. Oh, you know what I mean. But for thirteen hours on the plane to LA, I contemplated on his little statement and rested in the fact that change is inevitable and my life’s locale contributed to my maturity.

Going home almost begs for endless comparison. One thing I never fail to compare is the American and Philippine legal system. Is there a legal drinking age in the Philippines? Can you buy cigarettes if you’re 15 years old? Are there road rules? Are all these things implicit? Well if there are binding laws for these things, then I, personally, would be doing time in jail. One of my favorite stories that involves the Philippines and its justice system is the case of one of my friends from high school, who was 13, crazy, and thirsty. She went to the neighborhood 7-11 and asked to purchase an entire case of beer, and the store owner did not think twice and sold the little girl in front of him in braces, glasses, and unbrushed hair the beer. Talk about trying to make a buck. Or peso.

Going home is almost like stepping into an unending party. There is no concept of time in Manila (perhaps this is why we’re always late?), it could be 10 at night and I’d be racing to Quezon City for a second dinner with my friends. Some malls will still be open, and we could stand in front of the movie theater line and pick which past-10 o’clock showing we would catch. I could drag myself to Greenbelt at 11 and pay PhP 99 to sing all night long in the Karaoke bars, and grab some Starbucks on the way out in the wee hours of the morning. Everything is open later, leaving much more room to just go out and have fun. My theory is: BECAUSE we are always late, establishments are forced to stay open late to accommodate and make some sort of profit.

But why do I go home? And why do I consider the Philippines my home? Is there something seductive about returning to traffic, poverty, retarded pop songs (see: Boom Tarat Tarat, Otso-Otso, and all their cousins), and unbelievable inefficiency?

Well, I think a home is defined by who lives in it. I set foot in NAIA Terminal 2 and I see my dad waving at me from the airport window. I drive to San Juan to see my lolo and lola, and the familiar baby photos of me and my cousins are perched on the piano, as if none of us ever left home. I go to the same silly children’s birthday parties that serve the customary (I swear, it is written in the Children’s Party Bible somewhere) spaghetti with hotdogs and barbecue to be with the cousins I see only once in a blue moon. I go out every night to the same restaurants to be with the friends who have known me since I had braces and poor taste in music. I go to the universities that I could have attended to see what my friends’ lives are like. I make it a point to visit my friends’ parents not only because food always happens to taste better outside your own home, but because in Manila (and I'm not just saying this), there are no boundaries as to who is your family.

The cliché answer to the question: “what do you love most about your home?” could easily be found in magazines and movies. I noticed that a popular answer is that at home, you could wear the ugliest clothes and watch TV, and no one will say anything (a lot of celebrities say this for some reason). But for me, going home to Manila is like stepping into another, more comfortable version of the world. Cars are slower, people aren’t rushing, there’s more freedom and the only thing you worry about is who you haven’t seen yet and how much more time you have before you have to go back to the U.S. Everything in that world is close to perfect because the ones who are dearest to me exist in it, and for a brief period -- maybe weeks or months -- I feel like I'm home.