Thank You, Ching Hai

It is said that by age 30 a worthless person would have lived long enough. Beyond that age, he is living undeserved bonus years. But how does one become worthless?

A person who lives only for himself – for his own pleasure, for his own good – is not only selfish, but also worthless. He does not exemplify what it is to be human, to be a notch above ordinary animals that strive only for their own survival and self-gratification. Among fellow humans, the self-contained individual cannot be counted upon and is, therefore, worthless to others in the species.

This view may seem too idealistic and exacting. The real world is populated by people who, to a good extent, are self-centered and care only of matters within their own immediate spheres. There are, however, a special few who are able to break free from the tight cell of their instinctive egocentricity — they become champions or heroes to others whose lives they touch. 

The fingers of my hand are enough to count the number of people whom I consider to be true heroes. They are very few, indeed, who sincerely want to do good for others, without hoping to get an equal return for their deed. I consider myself lucky to have personally known some of this rare breed.

I met Go Ching Hai, the man behind the city’s famous Hayco Engineering, when I did a television documentary on him a few years ago. We met for just a few hours, roughly two hours or so. It was my first and last significant encounter with him.

Ching Hai was in his mid-80s at the time. His physical movement was a little restrained; it was obvious he was no longer in the best of health. Yet when he spoke, you’d easily forget his age and health condition. He bubbled with youthful spirit and a wacky sense of humor that would almost throw you off your seat.

His life story moved me; his achievements earned my awe and praise. Most of all, I admired the frail octogenarian’s forthrightness and humility during our whole interview. He never, in any way, implied that he was better; he swore to have had worked harder.

The hard work yielded many functional inventions, practical devices that have since improved or made easy the way people do certain things. There were tools he invented for the home, as well as for industrial use. His de-husking machine for corn grits has since made this staple food smoother and more palatable to eat. His concept of a ro-ro (roll on-roll off) boat was revolutionary in that it had openings on both ends for cargoes to be loaded through one end at the port of origin and unloaded through the other end at the port of destination, saving much time since the vessel did not have to turn around to a single open end every time.     

Ching Hai and I did not become close friends after our first meeting. He became my idol, I his fan. He did not know it, though, that he inspired me in a big way; I kept it in my heart.

Throughout our interview, he kept mentioning about the poor and his concern for them. His final work was in the area of nutrition. He wanted so much to provide the poor with highly nutritious yet very affordable food products. These products are now available in supermarkets, or given free at feeding events that the Go Ching Hai Foundation holds regularly for indigent beneficiaries.

I suppose that, like anybody in his situation in early life, Ching Hai must have had his fierce side when working his way to the top. A young man who worked very long hours for meager pay, slept on sacks of milled grains at night and supported himself through school, could not afford to be soft. But if at all, Ching Hai had at a time exhibited a stern demeanor, it was probably only a shell that encased an acquiescent nature.      

Ching Hai did not impress me by his wealth. I admired him for retaining his simplicity in spite of his wealth. His perseverance and determination amazed me. His story would surely be a great source of inspiration to anyone.

All things, good or bad, soon come to an end. Life is no exception. The thing is that those who live full, productive lives won’t go in vain; when they go, they will have fully paid their dues for the space and time they had been lent on the planet. 

Ching Hai passed away a few weeks ago, leaving behind a world that is, no doubt, in a little better shape than when he found it. His contributions to life and the world may not have secured him a front page in the public mind. He probably did not aspire for recognition anyway, although he had nonetheless gotten numerous accolades from reputable groups and institutions.

Every death brings grief. But I hope Ching Hai’s family finds some relief in knowing that he lives on in the hearts of people who have had a glimpse of his beautiful nature. My own view of life has been enriched by his example: to share not only the products of one’s labors but one’s self, as well.

Thank you, Ching Hai. May the new life you now have up there be your fair reward for the one you lived down here.

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