Some people go through life wishing it could be more like a movie.
In the Philippines, people go through life imagining they’re in a movie — an all-singing, all-dancing escapade where prisoners crunk to Michael Jackson songs and flight attendants explain the availability of exit rows and oxygen masks while doing the Electric Slide.
Search for “Cebu Pacific Air Dancing Flight Attendants” on YouTube and you’ll see the most recent example of how life for Filipinos is like an Andrew Lloyd Weber spectacle: as the chirpy announcer comes on to explain that flight attendants will now demonstrate the safety procedures for passengers, two young female attendants strut down the aisle like it’s a catwalk. They slip into their life vests with a cute wriggle, pull down oxygen masks with a smile, blow coquettishly on inflation tubes and mimic Saturday Night Fever moves while pointing out the exit rows left and right. I’m pretty sure most male passengers’ tubes were (at least) halfway inflated after watching this in-flight entertainment.
A few obvious questions arise: a) Does the male brain retain any useful information while watching young females gyrating? and b) Is this the best way to explain important safety features to the flying public? The answers are: a) Not usually and b) Maybe.
Let’s face it: most passengers have flown before, so they know the safety drill by now. You could even argue that any added stimulation on a flight actually increases memory retention. As for the other question, it’s probably not the worst way to get people to pay attention to something they’ve learned to tune out as the aircraft ascends.
Of course, it’s not the first time that dancing has crept into everyday life in the Philippines. Remember the Cebu inmates? The ones that captivated the world in their red prisoner uniforms, busting a move to Thriller? (And by the way, what is it with Cebu? First Cebu inmates, then Cebu Pacific? Is it something in the water? Are they trying to outperform the rest of the country, or what?) Sure, it took an overzealous prison warden to get these cons to line up and break the thing down in the prison yard, but you know what? I’ll bet they were happy for the change in their routine. That’s life in the Philippines for you: always look for the laugh.
The other day, I was having lunch in a place called Johnny Rockets. Now, usually, when I go to a fake ‘50s diner, I just want to sit down in a booth and enjoy my personal jukebox machine and order a five-dollar milkshake (Martin and Lewis style) and some conversation. But in Johnny Rockets, the jukebox is wired to a central sound system. So every five minutes, just as I was about to utter something to the person across the booth, the jukebox would blast up to Ultra Stadium decibel levels and the waitresses started dancing in a line to the Four Tops’ Sugar Pie Honey Bunch. The idea was that this impromptu performance was for the customers’ enjoyment. But really, if I wanted a floorshow with my meal, I
would have gone to Crazy Horse Saloon.
Song and dance come naturally to Filipinos, who are raised with an I-Sing microphone within reach by the time they’re able to utter a few gurgles and glottals. Singing is part of the culture; performing is programmed at birth. So it’s not unusual for a political meeting or public event to begin with a round of jokes and end with a karaoke session (anything except My Way). Even newly sworn-in President Noynoy Aquino’s first presidential act was to perform a set of bossa-nova songs at Rizal Park to an adoring electorate at the after-swearing-in party. That’s entertainment! That’s government!
Speaking of government, Congress is already rife with musical references. Name one other country in the world that happily refers to its process of constitutional amendment as “Cha-cha” (short for “Charter change”). Every couple of years or so, it becomes regular newspaper fodder to speculate which people in Congress friendly/unfriendly to the president will be willing to “dance the Cha-cha.”
I was thinking, though, why not go the whole enchilada? Why not just turn government functions into noontime shows, complete with glitter and dancing girls? Who’s to say Congress wouldn’t be more efficient without a little “Macarena” thrown in at mid-day? And maybe if it were televised, people would actually watch and monitor government performance — not to mention it would boost network ratings.
With rainy season here and the threat of typhoons and flooding, the Department of Public Works should also get on the ball, coordinating a national preparedness campaign with choreographed disaster relief — maybe set the whole thing to the tune of Singing in the Rain (hopefully not I Will Survive).
Or how about public protests — like the recent battle over the Reproductive Health Bill? That would have been a perfect opportunity for a grand production number. (My vote goes to Monty Python’s Every Sperm Is Sacred, though the irony would probably be lost on the Catholic Church.)
And not that the EDSA protest needs any more sequels, but if there’s ever a revival, EDSA: The Musical has a nice ring to it. I mean, the people will already be lined up on the streets anyway; why not let ‘em shake a tail feather while they’re there?
Voters in the last presidential election were also amused to see TV ads featuring a squadron of girls in short-shorts, singing, dancing and demonstrating how to use the automated voting machines. (Something about slipping cards into slots.) The titillating tactic seemed to work: the last election was the smoothest, most coordinated political exercise in recent Philippine history. So who’s to say that a little ha-cha-cha didn’t lubricate the wheels of government?
The thing is, dancing is not for dummies; it takes skill and coordination. This kind of coordination is kind of useful when you want things to work, like government. Or government agencies. Dancing doesn’t seem like such a silly idea, if it leads to better flow of services. Maybe combine business with pleasure. For instance, can you imagine how much more agreeable paying off a traffic ticket and collecting your confiscated driver’s license would be if it came with a lap dance?
The Department of Justice, Customs Bureau, the BIR, the DOT, the PNP, the Department of Education — all these slow-footed agencies could use the kind of sassy delivery and coordination that those Cebu Pacific flight attendants displayed. In fact, maybe those girls should be hired by the government to help perk things up. If we could just get the Cebu Pacific girls to at least choreograph the traffic situation, that would be a start. Though, come to think of it, they’re probably much better at stopping traffic than moving it along.