Galing sa Hirap: Roles and Labels

Warning: incoherent thoughts up ahead, just random rantings of a toxic mind.

Freakingly what? Say that again?

“Parang di ka galing sa hirap,” (As if you didn’t came from being poor) my friend supplied his statement for the second time. My friend just “mouthed” “mahirap” to ensure that our conversation was out of earshot (from my dad).

It took me a couple of seconds before recovering. I remembered my friend saying that I’m “maarte” (picky with clothes, I’ve developed allergies with most soaps and have to settle with Dove, I’ve got wax on my hair, but other than those, I’m not maarte at all).

Its not my fault that I want to dress up presentably. You don’t have to look poor just because you are poor, or at least you came from poordom. Life is NOT a costume party (though Halloween is indeed nearing).

Its not my fault that I can sometimes be meticulously OC in hygiene, I’m from the medical field for pete’s sake, but I do have my momentary sloppy moments. Life ain’t exciting without variety. But hygiene is not entirely or should not be entirely equated to status in life and bank accounts.

Poor people, I beg you, please do smell like you’re wearing Dolce or Armani or whatever brand it is… even if you’re just wearing Johnson’s/ Green Cross baby cologne. Remember, cleanliness is next to godliness.

Pero teka (an exaggerated “wait”)? Me? Maarte? Are you blind? I fart in front of my friends (fully warned of course). I love eating fishballs in the side streets. I absentmindedly pick my nose in public often (dialing… hello… hello?). I’m the most jologs (unclassy) person I know! Seeesh! And I’m maarte?

I remember a first meet up with a blogger friend. We had to share a soup (a small serving at that), and he asked for a separate bowl, the works. I was thinking we could’ve shared one bowl to eliminate all the trouble of asking for additional utensils (And I brushed my teeth naman and I don’t have oral infections naman eh). Apparently he thought I was uber sosyal. Parang, dude, cowboy kaya ako. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got breeding, and I was thought Class A table manners. But in the absence of business meetings in a posh restaurant, and with a friend for dinner, I would just want to have a relaxed conversation, with my feet crossed (or even on an Indian sit pose), and an unaltered smile (or a snorting laugh). Basta. Ganun. And I enjoy eating at a tapsihan, btw.

“And teka, I’m not entirely mahirap!” I ran to my defense. Though there’s really nothing wrong with that, what’s important is what’s in you heart (naks!).

My dad was a businessman before, though business went down and he had to do odd jobs. I worked my way through highschool and college through scholarships, and succeeded and started with x times the minimum wage at 21 years old. I digress. I’m not mahirap pala. I’m a “sosyal na mahirap”. From rags to… oh well… better looking rags, I worked hard. So don’t tell me how I should act (mahirap). I don’t act mahirap, I act intelligently mahirap.

And what’s with all these labels by the way?

Economists and businessmen need those to identify target market. Political analysts need those to analyse social phenomenon.

But normal people do not need to stereotype a lot of people, categorize them and put them into a limited box.

Role playing? Oh, shut up!

Even in relationships, no one needs to be the “man of the house”. The Ilaw ng tahanan (figuratively the mother) and the haligi ng tahanan (figuratively the father) are so ten years ago.

Like not all husbands are created equal, most would be better cooks than the wives. Roles are becoming dynamic these years. Breadwinners are not all men anymore. “Yayas” are not limited to women with foreign accents.

Taxi drivers are not just smelly men. I had a woman driver once (who was in no way tomboy-ish).

And what is “panget” (ugly) ba? (Sorry medyo out of topic). What is ugly and what is beautiful. Who determines what? Sure, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But who gives the right to say who is who? I’ve been told I’m “ugly” twice I think, and I’ve been classified as “cute” on some occasions with some asking for my number. So what am I? I guess I have to take my dad’s word nalang. I’m cute. Period. Ang umangal pasasabugin ko pagmumukha.

In anycase, back to the topic…

So who are you to tell that I act “mahirap”. Dude, how does a “mahirap” act anyways?

All “mahiraps” here, I challenge you all. Do not contain your actions, decisions and even your dreams just because society dictates you to do or be the way you are. Believe, dream, survive! (Ok, erase that last bit)

Basta. Un lang. eto nadudulot ng sangkaterbang katoxican. Hahaha!

I’m sooo drugged with caffeine. I know right? Bleh!

Note: No more "read more" on this one (hindi ko kasi alam kung pano alisin ung read more pag di na kelangn eh. hehe)