Part 11 (2/2)
In their communities the _presidente_ is supreme in power; and, like the king, this officer can do no wrong. He uses his position for his private ends. Why not? What is the use of being _presidente_ if it does not profit you? I have known some who secured monopolies on the hemp-trade by fining all who did not sell their hemp to them. Others appropriate the public funds for entertainment purposes, and when an inquiry is made regarding the condition of the treasury, the magistrate expresses the greatest surprise on finding that there is no money left. This officer, however, whatever his prerogatives may be, is not ambitious that his term of office be of any benefit. If he presides well at the c.o.c.k-fights, it is all that is expected of him. If he goes to building bridges over rivers that the horses easily can wade across, the people will object to the unnecessary labor and expense. The _presidente_ dominates the town. If he can bring about prosperity in an agreeable way, without recourse to sudden means, the people will appreciate him and support him, though they do not take much interest in the elections. If the civil government can only get good _presidentes_ in the larger villages, the problem of administration will be solved.
Malay traditions make the Filipino proud, disdainful, and reserved--and also cruel. Not only are the ardent sun and his inherent laziness accountable for his antipathy to work. It is beneath his dignity to work, and that is why he takes delight in being a public servant or a clerk. The problem of living is reduced to simplest terms. One can not starve to death as long as the bananas and the cocoanuts hold out. The question as to whether last year's overcoat or straw hat can be made to do, does not concern the Filipino in the least. If he needs money irresistibly, he can spend one day at work up in the mountains, making enough to last him for some time. If he can spend his money so as to create a display, he takes delight in doing so. But paying debts is as uninteresting as it is unpopular. The outward signs of elegance are much respected by the Filipino. The American, to live up to his part, must always be attended by a servant. Sometimes, when we would forget this adjunct, we would stop at some _tienda_ and propose to carry home a dozen eggs wrapped in a handkerchief. ”What! have you no house-boy?” the natives asked. Apparently extravagant, they practice many petty economies at home. A morsel of food or a bit of clothing never goes to waste in Filipinia. They imitate the Chinaman in letting one of their finger-nails grow long.
The Filipino is fastidious and dainty--in his own way. He will shudder at the uncouth Tagalog who toasts locusts over a hot fire and eats them, and that evening will go home and eat a handful of damp _guinimos_, the littlest of fish. He takes an infinite amount of care of his white clothes, and swaggers about the streets immaculate; but just as soon as he gets home, the suit comes off and is reserved for future exhibition purposes. The women pay comparatively small attention to their personal adornment. Their hair is combed straight back upon their heads. The style of dresses never undergoes a change. The ordinary dress consists of three important pieces--the chemise, a long, white, sleeveless garment; the _camisa_, or the _pina_ bodice, with wide sleeves; and the skirt, caught up on one side, and preferably of red material. A yoke or scarf of _pina_ folds around the neck, and is considered indispensable by _senoritas_. The native ideas of modesty are more or less false, varying with the individual.
It might be thought that, on account of his indifferent att.i.tude toward life and death, the Filipino has no feelings or emotions. He is a stoic and a fatalist by nature, but an emotionalist as well. While easily affected, the impressions are not deep, and are forgotten as they slip into the past. Although controlled by pa.s.sion, he will hold himself in, maintaining a proud reserve, especially in the presence of Americans. A subtle change of color, a sullen brooding, or persistent silence, are his only outward signs of wrath. He will endure in patience what another race had long ago protested at; but when at last aroused and dominated by his pa.s.sions, he will throw reserve and caution to the winds, and give way to his feelings like a child; and like a child, he feels offended if partiality is exercised against him. His sense of justice then a.s.serts itself, and he resents not getting his share of anything. He even will insist on being punished if he thinks punishment is due him. While revengeful if imposed upon, and bitter under the autocracy of cruelty, he has a great respect for firmness. And the Americans would do well to remember that in governing the Filipino, kindness should be mingled with strict discipline.
The Filipino can not be depended upon for accurate, reliable information. His information is indefinite, as perhaps it should be in the land of By and By. In spite of his imaginative temperament, his cruelty to animals is flagrant. He starves his dog and rides his pony till the creature's back is sore. He shows no mercy for the bird that loses at the c.o.c.k-fight; he will mercilessly tear it limb from limb. In order to explain--not to excuse--this cruelty, we must again regard the Filipino as a child--a child of the toad-stabbing age.
A little learning he takes seriously, and is puffed up by pride when he can follow with his h.o.r.n.y finger the religious column in _Ang Suga_, spelling the long words out laboriously. Even the boys and girls who study English, often do so only to be ”smart.” It is a clever thing to spice one's conversation with an English word or expression here and there.
Yet the Filipino is not altogether lazy and unsympathetic. Often around his houses you will see a tiny patch of corn or a little garden of green vegetables. He makes a mistake by showing a dislike for the _camote_, or the native sweet-potato, which abounds there. Preferring the unsubstantial rice to this more wholesome product, he leaves the sweet-potato for his Chinese and his Moro neighbors. On every street the sour-smelling _copra_ (cocoanut meat) can be seen spread out upon a mat to dry. The cattle are fed on the long rice-gra.s.s (the _palay_), or on the unhusked rice (_sacate_). A primitive trades-unionism exists among the Filipinos; every trade, such as the carpenters' or the musicians', having its respective _maestro_, with whom arrangements for the labor and the pay are always made. The native jewelers are very clever, fas.h.i.+oning the silver _pesos_ into ornaments for bolos, hats, or walking-sticks. Ironmongeries, though primitive in their equipment, have produced, by dint of skill and patience, work that is very pa.s.sable. The women weave their own cloth on the native looms, and practice various other industries. The children are well trained in hospitality and public manners, which they learn by rote.
While not original, they are good imitators, and would make excellent clerks, mechanics, carpenters, or draughtsmen. Some of their devices rather remind one of a small boy's remedy for warts or ”side-ache.” In order to exterminate the rats they introduce young pythons into the garrets of their houses, where the snake remains until his appet.i.te is satisfied for rodents and his finer tastes developed. Usually the Filipino does things ”wrong side out.” Instead of beckoning when he would summon any one, he motions away from himself. Instead of making nicknames, such as Bob or Bill, from the first syllable, he uses the last, abbreviating Balendoy to 'Doy, Diega to a simple 'Ga. They are the happiest people in the world, free from all care and trouble. It is among the younger generation that the promise lies. The little ones are bright and gentle and respectful--quite unlike the boisterous denizens of Young America. The race is still back in the fourteenth century, but the progress to be made within the next few years will span the chasm at a single bound.
When I return to Filipinia, I shall expect to see, instead of the brown _nipa_ shacks, bright-painted American cottages or bungalows among the groves of palm. I shall expect to see the mountain slopes, waving with green hemp-fields, worked by the rejuvenated native. Railroads will penetrate into the dark interior, connecting towns and villages now isolated. The country roads will be well graded and macadamized, and bridges will be built across the streams. The c.o.c.k-fight will have given way to inst.i.tutions more American, and superst.i.tion will have vanished with the mediaevalism. The hum of saw-mills will be heard upon the borders of the timber-lands; sugar refineries will be established near the fields of cane; for Filipinia is still an undeveloped paradise. The Great White Tribe has many problems yet to solve; but with the industry that they have shown in other lands, they can improve, not only the material resources, but can stir the Filipino from his dream of the Dark Ages, and point out the way of modern progress and enlightenment.
NOTE
[1] Johnson, the runaway constabulary officer, was killed October last by the crew of the native boat which he had captured after the Steams.h.i.+p ”Victoria,” which he had seized, had grounded off the coast of Negros. Four of the crew were killed during the fight. In true brigand style he had taken the boat at the revolver's point, and headed for the coast of Borneo. He had ten thousand dollars of government money, and his intention was to land at various ports and make the local merchants ”stand and deliver.” I gave the following interview to the reporter of the Princeton (Indiana) ”Clarion-News,”
October 16, 1903:
”'Johnson, the pirate,' is dead, and buried in the lonely isle of Negros. Many a worse man occupies a better grave. The worst that you can say of Johnson is, that he was wrong and that he liked to drink too much.
”I shall always remember him in his red shoulder straps, his khaki riding suit and leather leggings. Before I had ever seen him I had heard the old constabulary captain say: 'That feller looks like a born fighter. Bet he ain't afraid of anything.' ... The padre gave us a Christmas dinner, and Johnson at this function took too much of the communion wine. On the way back he reeled continually in his saddle, vomiting a stream of red wine....
”We often used to race our ponies into Oroquieta neck and neck, scattering natives, chickens, and pigs to right and left. The last I saw of him was as he put out on a stormy sea in a frail Moro sailboat bound for Cagayan, which at that time was infested with ladrones.
”Johnson was only a boy, but he had been a sailor and a soldier, and had seen adventures in the Canary Islands, in Cuba, and the Philippines. The boat that he held up and started off to Borneo was one employed in questionable trade. She was a smuggler, and had formerly been in the service of the 'Insurrecto' Government. She used to drop in at a port at night and pull out in the morning with neither a bill of lading nor a manifest.
”Johnson should not be blamed too much for the wild escapade. The climate had undoubtedly affected him; moreover the constabulary has no business putting heavy responsibilities upon young boys.”
<script>