BEGGING FOR ALMS: A TRAGEDY OF OUR CULTURE

A batang pulubi comes up to me asking for alms, saying, in a holier-than-the-pope manner, “Ate, pahingi lang po ng pambiling tinapay…” He flashes me those glassy eyes, which look like they’re about to burst into tears. In my mind, I give him an “A+” for the effort. Then, I don’t think twice of giving the kid a hostile look and shooing him away with it.

It’s a uniqueness I am not actually proud of, but do admit that, unlike most of us, I don’t take pity on these so-called deprived kids. Reason is, I know that these mongrels are only nice and angelic for the time being when they are asking for money. Otherwise, they’ll be running around trashing some place, cussing, or simply being the uncouth and ungrateful little half-wits they have become.

Call it a hasty generalization if you want. Call me ruthless, even. But I stand by what I have said. These kids…I will not have myself give an impression that begging is a lucrative endeavor. I’d rather shoot them down with hostility and nastiness than have them think that they could just beg to make a living. I’d understand if these little ones are old, frail, gray, and unable to give much physical effort. But they are not. They haven’t even peaked, for heaven’s sake. I am not about to give them this warped idea that they don’t need to go to school because they could simply ask people for money and get by.

But, who could blame them, right?

Our present-day society promotes a culture of beggars and free-loaders, from everyday people giving loose change to street beggars to television networks organizing game shows with hefty prizes at stake.

To me, giving these street children money is teaching them the wrong thing about the value of money. Having these game shows, again, to me, is a slice of the same cake.

I frequently watch these shows. The contestants are always (not even almost always) people who are poor and evidently financially distressed. Most of them do win as much as a million Pesos in one appearance. These poor people think that they are simply cashing in a fortune without anything personal at stake. But when I look at these shows more closely, I see that the contestants win big prizes, yes—but generally at their own expense.

They are made to look like idiots. They are made to sing. To dance. To cry and wallow in their despair. And other what nots. They are laughed at as they provide cheap entertainment to viewers like me. I find all of it hilarious really, but at some point I get the idea that they are only being the puppets that they seem to be just because they want to win. For whatever amount of money, be it cellphone load or a suitcase full of bills, these poor people go to the game studio ready to bear it all. I’m thinking that they merely are naïve of how silly they look on TV or just flat-out don’t care. Maybe because they have nothing more to lose but everything to gain? Desperate for salvation from the slums of poverty and hopelessness? Yes, that is it.

This is where our culture of beggars has come today. It has become so “profitable” that even TV networks are joining in. The game shows are the new catalysts of the new generation of pulubis. They give out prizes in the guise of helping, pro bono, these financially-deprived individuals. Whereas, they actually make huge corporate profits by capitalizing on these people’s nothing-to-lose mentality and sheer desperation.

Ang mga pulubing ito…they get inspired of the stories of the winning contestants in these game shows that they immediately want to try their own luck. They know nothing of what they are, in truth, risking—their integrity, image, and, yes, maybe even their life.

Now, hold on…are any of you saying that I am exaggerating? Christine, no one has died while playing these harmless game shows?

“Eat sh*t,” I say.

So how and why did 71 people die (800+ injured) at the Ultra that day over two years ago? Were there any rampaging beasts chasing them down that slope, causing them to stampede over themselves?

The Wowowee Ultra tragedy on February 4, 2006: The people were there as early as a few days before the actual show. They all were living those few days, not on food, but on the gleaming ray of light at the end of their poverty tunnel. In their minds, a few more days of empty stomachs were nothing. After all, everyone will indeed end up as winners. (http://www.pcij.org/i-report/6/wowowee.html) That when they go home, they’d have enough money to live by a few more measly days. But that fateful morning, there were no winners. They were all losers. And there were 71 grand losers.

As much as we want to think that no one told them to come to Ultra that day, no one forced them, that they came in flocks, and they all did at their own will, it is not as simple as that. These beggars think the way they think—that they have nothing to lose and that they’re individuals left with hopelessness and desperation—mainly because we made them that way.

Our culture feeds on their desperation instead of feeding their hungry mouths with nutrition and filling their uneducated minds with useful knowledge. By giving them more freebies of loose change and grand cash prizes, we teach them that it is perfectly okay to feel hopeless and use their own desperation to get an easy buck or two.

A culture of beggars and free-loaders. To my mind, it is downright disappointing that it has come to this. So however pitiful-looking a batang pulubi coming up to me is, I will remain unimpressed. I will not encourage a culture that feeds on their unknowing state of mind. Will you?