In the Face of Crisis

On Sundays I usually go to my favorite eatery for lunch. The place is a jeepney ride away from my residence. I don’t mind taking the trip; it’s the nearest place where I could find clean, delicious, inexpensive food. Also, the owner has, through the years, become a friend to me.

One time I had kilawin (slightly broiled pork skin chopped into small pieces and soaked in spiced native vinegar) and tahong (shellfish) soup. My friend Shawee, the eatery owner, was apologetic when she brought in the freshly cooked rice. “This is now ten pesos per serving,” she said. “The price of rice grains has skyrocketed!”

I was aware of the rice crisis at the time; it was being so hyped up in the media. And yet even with the price increase on the rice, my whole meal – with two extra servings of rice and a softdink – amounted only to about sixty pesos, which was my average tab. The extra soup (without the tahong, of course) was free.

As always, it was the chitchat with Shawee after the meal that I looked forward to. She always had some interesting stories to share – also for free. This time, she told me that the other eatery in the area had closed. The owners had a huge unpaid bill with the softdrink company and probably, Shawee assumed, found the rice crisis to be a good alibi for folding up the business.

Shawee went on to tell me that, since the national rice emergency, her grains dealer had changed his small multicab to a much bigger delivery truck. She also admitted that with the two-peso increase on the price of a serving of rice at her eatery, she ended up making more profit per kilo of grains. So the rice crisis was not all too bad, after all.

There’s a saying: “Someone’s loss is another’s gain.” There are numerous accounts of people amassing great wealth in times of war. I myself know of people benefiting immensely from the government’s failed financial assistance program, supposedly for the poor.

My conversation with Shawee had once again brought to my mind a story my uncle (now deceased) once told me:

Once upon a time, a man lived by the side of the road. It was so noisy there, you could never get to nap, especially at noontime when pedestrian traffic was heavy. But the man saw a good opportunity in the place, and took advantage of it. He started selling hotdog sandwiches.

His sandwiches were good; he was not ashamed to ask people to buy. He even put up a large sign on the highway, telling passersby how good his hotdog sandwiches were. People bought, and they kept coming back.

The man’s sales grew, and soon he had to increase his orders for hotdogs and buns to meet the ever-increasing demand. The business flourished further. Eventually, he expanded his store to accommodate his growing clientele.

In the summer, his son who was attending college in the city came home. The man was glad that now he could have some help in the hotdog store.  But, instead, something else happened.

When the son saw his father’s store, he couldn’t believe it. “Father,” he said, “didn’t you know that we are in the midst of a grave economic crisis? Haven’t you been following the news?” No, the father had not been keeping track of news reports.     

In those days there was no radio yet, no television. The father got too busy with his new business that he had no more time to exchange stories with people. He focused himself on selling hotdog sandwiches.

The son explained to his father how the economic situation could worsen further. This meant that people would find it harder to keep up with their cost of living, and they would have to stop buying non-essential things, including their favorite hotdog sandwich. And so the store might end up with a lot of stocks that would just rot away.

The father pondered: “My son is educated. He’s abreast with the latest news and developments. He ought to know better and understand what’s going on.” And, so the father decided to heed the opinion of his son.

Right the following day, the father cut down his order for hotdogs and buns. He took down his advertising sign, and was no longer as enthusiastic in running his store. His sales plunged. 

As they were finally closing down the store, the father said to the son, “You’re right, boy. We are certainly in the middle of a grave economic crisis.”

We live in two worlds, simultaneously; the world of actual experience and the world in our heads. One can affect the other, vice versa. Real-world events can condition our minds. In the same way, our minds – by intention – can change actual reality.

It is written: “You will know the tree by its fruits.” The way we respond to a crisis defines the kind of people we are. We can either rule over our difficulties or be ruled by them. And the troubles we find ourselves in, whatever they may be, may actually be of our own making.