Our country’s unsung heroes
July 23, 2005 | 12:00am
A friend who deals with remittances of contract workers in the Middle East gave me these statistics:
1. There are eight million Filipinos working as contract workers abroad.
2. 30 percent of seamen the world over are Filipinos.
3. Each of them send a minimum of $1,000 back to the Philippines to help their families. But in fact, most of them send $2,000. Based on this figure, somewhere between $15 and 17 billion are remitted yearly by these contract workers. Listening to him talk makes one realize the importance of our contract workers. These people are our country’s unsung heroes. Their money is what is keeping our economy afloat. I shudder to think what could be the state of our country’s finances without their remittances. No amount of new taxation laws and E-VAT could save us.
I look back to the years when the family had a Filipino restaurant in Paris. Prior to our buying the restaurant (which was aptly called Aux Iles Philippines, meaning Of the Philippine Islands), it was already made famous by Madame Nora Daza. Because of its excellent cuisine, Nora put this restaurant in the Michelin Guide, which is a book of fine dining restaurants in Paris. When we bought it, the restaurant had two Filipino chefs and one pastry chef. It also had Filipino waiters and waitresses. Except for one or two of them, all our workers had legal papers. In the ’80s, it was not difficult to be legit abroad.
I will never forget our chef Leoncio who made the best béarnaise sauce and lechon kawali in the world. He was a colorful character and had a happy disposition in spite of long working hours. He was never off-duty because he held two jobs. When he was not on duty with us, he worked in a French restaurant nearby. He bought lotto tickets every week and one day, he won 23,000 francs, which at the time was the equivalent of approximately $5,700. He was the happiest man in the world. He sent all the money back home so his parents could build a house. Then he sent for his wife and daughter who at the time was only two years old. The daughter grew up playing with French neighbors and soon spoke French like a native. Leoncio worked 12 hours a day, just to be able to support his parents back home and his family in Paris. It was with sadness when we heard that he passed away some years ago, at the young age of 49. He was overworked and ate too much of his lechon kawali. One thing about us Pinoys is we can live anywhere in the world, but we cannot leave behind our craving for the deadly cholesterol-filled lechon kawali and pork adobo with all the fat trimmings.
Mang Taling, was another chef we had. He sent home all his earnings to send his kids to school. He was so proud when one of them finally finished a nursing degree. But there were three more to support. He was calculating the many more years he had to work to allow the other three to finish. He was young and energetic so during his off-days, he worked as a cook for a diplomat who paid him well. But my favorite success story is the one of Conching, the yaya of my French niece Alexa. Conching worked for so many years as my niece’s yaya. With her salary, she sent her children to school. From her side business of baking ensaymada and empanada, she built her parents, (who took care of her children), a modest house. Then one day, she met a good-looking French man when she slipped in the train station. This man helped her to her feet and got her to her train, but not without asking her contact number. Conching’s fall was a bit serious. She was in pain for weeks and could hardly walk. This man offered to take care of her, no strings attached. They fell in love and got married. Now, she is a French citizen and living two hours by train away from Paris. She comes to work for my sister everytime she calls for her. Like when we are all there visiting. She cleans and cooks for us and amuses us with her funny stories. She has made good with her ensaymada and empanada business and built a vacation house for her and her husband in Bicol, near the beach. Once a year, they come to enjoy their beach house. What is praiseworthy about Conching is her desire to improve herself all the time. Now, she is taking a course that teaches how to be an all-around person so she can handle any job that is available. Like being a caregiver, a house cleaner, a cook, a gardener, etc. And the course is in French.
One night, I asked Conching for a masseuse. She called for Noemi, a Filipina, who left Bulacan where she had a thriving beauty salon and a small food business. Noemi’s story is just like every other Pinoy one meets abroad. They are all in search of greener pastures, meaning greenbacks. Noemi claims that no matter how hard one works back home, the earnings are never enough. She gave as an example her rate as a masseuse in Bulacan. She charged P150 per massage. In order to earn P1,500 pesos, she had to massage 10 people. At the end of the day, she could hardly breathe from fatigue. In Paris, her earnings from one massage is the equivalent of 10 massages in Bulacan. She was able to send for her daughter who is now earning well as a housekeeper for a rich family. Her daughter is now helping out with the education of the younger siblings.
Not all Pinoys have the good fortune to work under favorable conditions. I had a chance to talk to Noemi’s friend Reggie. Reggie worked in Dubai as a house keeper. In her first month there, she lost 20 lbs. It was Ramadan season and her bosses subjected her to a fast for 40 days as their religion entailed them to do. They were not kind to her either. They made her work longer hours than was in the contract and did not feed her enough. The man of the house, who she described as fat and ugly, would try to seduce her every time his wife was not around. One time, she was ironing when he made his advances. She threatened to burn his face with the iron if he took another step towards her. That stopped him from literally raping her. Reggie did not renew her contract with that family and is now looking for a job. She claims she prefers to work in Manila to be close to her children, but the salary is not high enough to send her two kids to school simultaneously. When she was working in Manila, one child’s schooling was on hold as her salary was not enough. There are many more stories I could tell about the many Filipinos that I talked to during my countless encounters with them. Everytime I hear Tagalog within earshot, I look where it is coming from and make it a point to talk to them and ask how they are doing. Thank God, most of the time, I hear positive stories.
The plight of our overseas workers are oftentimes not pleasant. They forget the hardships they have to endure, primarily to put food on their tables, let alone give their family a decent life. The cold winters, the long working hours, the abuses of unkind bosses, substandard living quarters, days of starvation, the pain of separation from their loved ones, these are the major sacrifices they have to make. But they plod on and on, forgetting their pain and discomfort in the hope of giving their children a better tomorrow. They are so selfless in their sacrifice for their dream is to give their children better opportunities than what they had back home. Their vision is to see them landing good jobs as professional doctors, lawyers, bankers, computer analysts, etc. and not contract workers like themselves. One of them told me that in making changes in his life, he could make a difference in the future of his children. With a wistful look in his tired eyes, he touched my heart by giving me a quote from Mahatma Ghandi: "You must be the change you wish to see."
Our overseas workers are to be admired. Our president should honor them in a special ceremony for indeed they are the saviors of our lifeless economy. At the risk of sounding repetitive, our overseas workers are our unsung heroes and are deserving of honor and recognition.
1. There are eight million Filipinos working as contract workers abroad.
2. 30 percent of seamen the world over are Filipinos.
3. Each of them send a minimum of $1,000 back to the Philippines to help their families. But in fact, most of them send $2,000. Based on this figure, somewhere between $15 and 17 billion are remitted yearly by these contract workers. Listening to him talk makes one realize the importance of our contract workers. These people are our country’s unsung heroes. Their money is what is keeping our economy afloat. I shudder to think what could be the state of our country’s finances without their remittances. No amount of new taxation laws and E-VAT could save us.
I look back to the years when the family had a Filipino restaurant in Paris. Prior to our buying the restaurant (which was aptly called Aux Iles Philippines, meaning Of the Philippine Islands), it was already made famous by Madame Nora Daza. Because of its excellent cuisine, Nora put this restaurant in the Michelin Guide, which is a book of fine dining restaurants in Paris. When we bought it, the restaurant had two Filipino chefs and one pastry chef. It also had Filipino waiters and waitresses. Except for one or two of them, all our workers had legal papers. In the ’80s, it was not difficult to be legit abroad.
I will never forget our chef Leoncio who made the best béarnaise sauce and lechon kawali in the world. He was a colorful character and had a happy disposition in spite of long working hours. He was never off-duty because he held two jobs. When he was not on duty with us, he worked in a French restaurant nearby. He bought lotto tickets every week and one day, he won 23,000 francs, which at the time was the equivalent of approximately $5,700. He was the happiest man in the world. He sent all the money back home so his parents could build a house. Then he sent for his wife and daughter who at the time was only two years old. The daughter grew up playing with French neighbors and soon spoke French like a native. Leoncio worked 12 hours a day, just to be able to support his parents back home and his family in Paris. It was with sadness when we heard that he passed away some years ago, at the young age of 49. He was overworked and ate too much of his lechon kawali. One thing about us Pinoys is we can live anywhere in the world, but we cannot leave behind our craving for the deadly cholesterol-filled lechon kawali and pork adobo with all the fat trimmings.
Mang Taling, was another chef we had. He sent home all his earnings to send his kids to school. He was so proud when one of them finally finished a nursing degree. But there were three more to support. He was calculating the many more years he had to work to allow the other three to finish. He was young and energetic so during his off-days, he worked as a cook for a diplomat who paid him well. But my favorite success story is the one of Conching, the yaya of my French niece Alexa. Conching worked for so many years as my niece’s yaya. With her salary, she sent her children to school. From her side business of baking ensaymada and empanada, she built her parents, (who took care of her children), a modest house. Then one day, she met a good-looking French man when she slipped in the train station. This man helped her to her feet and got her to her train, but not without asking her contact number. Conching’s fall was a bit serious. She was in pain for weeks and could hardly walk. This man offered to take care of her, no strings attached. They fell in love and got married. Now, she is a French citizen and living two hours by train away from Paris. She comes to work for my sister everytime she calls for her. Like when we are all there visiting. She cleans and cooks for us and amuses us with her funny stories. She has made good with her ensaymada and empanada business and built a vacation house for her and her husband in Bicol, near the beach. Once a year, they come to enjoy their beach house. What is praiseworthy about Conching is her desire to improve herself all the time. Now, she is taking a course that teaches how to be an all-around person so she can handle any job that is available. Like being a caregiver, a house cleaner, a cook, a gardener, etc. And the course is in French.
One night, I asked Conching for a masseuse. She called for Noemi, a Filipina, who left Bulacan where she had a thriving beauty salon and a small food business. Noemi’s story is just like every other Pinoy one meets abroad. They are all in search of greener pastures, meaning greenbacks. Noemi claims that no matter how hard one works back home, the earnings are never enough. She gave as an example her rate as a masseuse in Bulacan. She charged P150 per massage. In order to earn P1,500 pesos, she had to massage 10 people. At the end of the day, she could hardly breathe from fatigue. In Paris, her earnings from one massage is the equivalent of 10 massages in Bulacan. She was able to send for her daughter who is now earning well as a housekeeper for a rich family. Her daughter is now helping out with the education of the younger siblings.
Not all Pinoys have the good fortune to work under favorable conditions. I had a chance to talk to Noemi’s friend Reggie. Reggie worked in Dubai as a house keeper. In her first month there, she lost 20 lbs. It was Ramadan season and her bosses subjected her to a fast for 40 days as their religion entailed them to do. They were not kind to her either. They made her work longer hours than was in the contract and did not feed her enough. The man of the house, who she described as fat and ugly, would try to seduce her every time his wife was not around. One time, she was ironing when he made his advances. She threatened to burn his face with the iron if he took another step towards her. That stopped him from literally raping her. Reggie did not renew her contract with that family and is now looking for a job. She claims she prefers to work in Manila to be close to her children, but the salary is not high enough to send her two kids to school simultaneously. When she was working in Manila, one child’s schooling was on hold as her salary was not enough. There are many more stories I could tell about the many Filipinos that I talked to during my countless encounters with them. Everytime I hear Tagalog within earshot, I look where it is coming from and make it a point to talk to them and ask how they are doing. Thank God, most of the time, I hear positive stories.
The plight of our overseas workers are oftentimes not pleasant. They forget the hardships they have to endure, primarily to put food on their tables, let alone give their family a decent life. The cold winters, the long working hours, the abuses of unkind bosses, substandard living quarters, days of starvation, the pain of separation from their loved ones, these are the major sacrifices they have to make. But they plod on and on, forgetting their pain and discomfort in the hope of giving their children a better tomorrow. They are so selfless in their sacrifice for their dream is to give their children better opportunities than what they had back home. Their vision is to see them landing good jobs as professional doctors, lawyers, bankers, computer analysts, etc. and not contract workers like themselves. One of them told me that in making changes in his life, he could make a difference in the future of his children. With a wistful look in his tired eyes, he touched my heart by giving me a quote from Mahatma Ghandi: "You must be the change you wish to see."
Our overseas workers are to be admired. Our president should honor them in a special ceremony for indeed they are the saviors of our lifeless economy. At the risk of sounding repetitive, our overseas workers are our unsung heroes and are deserving of honor and recognition.
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