How a nobody can be a somebody quick

I was rereading the other week that magnificent American classic, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, and was again reminded of how people everywhere, particularly those who have finally acquired tremendous wealth, aspire for social status and acceptance. This is so true even for those who are just comfortable. This hunger is also dramatized in such great novels as Flaubert’s Madame Bovary, Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie, or in the novels of Dickens. This search for justification, meaning or — on a much higher plane — integrity and purpose is also in Rizal’s Noli, in the character of Crisostomo Ibarra. Indeed, it can be a compelling human need.

Sometimes, society itself demands it — the legitimacy of those who are powerful and authoritarian. Thus, even gangsters like the Mafia in the United States, the Yakuza in Japan — they have channeled their dirty money into legitimate businesses, just as the billions made by Filipino crooks are being laundered.

The gilding effort continues. Upper-class Filipinos send their daughters to “finishing schools” in Switzerland. For so many status seekers there is no better address than those in Alabang or in Makati.

In the end, however, what is real class?

As an ancient but hopeless fighter against hypocrisy, I have always contended that “the upper crust is nothing but a lot of crumbs.”

To you out there who have a mountain of cash most probably gotten in the shade — meaning through shady deals — do you want to bask in the sunshine with the upper crust?

But say you are from some hick village like Barrio Cabugawan, with no pedigree or any particular social skills other than making crates and crates of lucre through “proper” connections, and that after a decade of grueling effort, you have become a billionaire. Yet even with those billions, your face does not appear frequently in the newspapers, you have not received any award or citation from any institution, no Rotary Club has invited you to be a luncheon speaker You are anxious to join the upper strata and get your name mentioned every so often by the columnists.

What to do?

First, your name. It doesn’t help to have one of those indigenous family names, like Nagbaliw, Macapal or Barairong. If you have such a name, have it changed soonest — either a Spanish or American first name will do and if the family name is common like dela Cruz, or de Dios or Santos — add a suffix like Jose dela Cruz de Morfort III or Juan Santos de Vakha II — a name that is recognizable yet exotic, denoting some European gene in the past. You can always elaborate afterwards: when asked, say that somewhere in your distant line was a Spanish buccaneer or even a friar.

This, even if you are as dark as the bottom of an Ilokano clay pot — but you can speak Spanish with an Andalucian accent.

Get to know those journalists who write about interesting places and people. Get to know their bosses as well. Attend those events where there are a lot of society columnists and photographers — a boutique opening or a hotel restaurant opening. Any event — as Andy Warhol said, even if it’s just the opening of a can of sardines.

Your house — as soon as you can afford it, get away from that housing project where you live and move to Alabang; to any of the Makati villages, or even Forbes Park.

In building your house, employ the most expensive architect and tell him to build it according to his concept of what Filipino architecture is, no expense spared. And when it is finished tell him to have it featured in the newspapers — after all, it is an example of creative Filipino architecture. Most rich Filipinos, particularly some Spanish mestizos, want to identify themselves with this country. With nationalism, you cannot fail!

If you have children, send them to the most expensive schools. Get them to invite their classmates to your house. Tell your kids to target the richest among their classmates. Meet them, and eventually their parents.

Donate a chair to any of the top Philippine universities and discreetly find out if they can give you a Ph.D. If you make a hefty donation to any of them, usually, they will sooner or later give you one. Better still, have an academic emissary visit any of the Ivy League universities in the United States, Cambridge and Oxford in England. A sugar baron did this with Harvard decades ago and, with a million dollars, he got a Ph.D.

Learn a foreign language. I suggest Spanish, and then if you still have the energy, French. Remember that in this country, the higher you go up socially, it becomes white — Spanish white, not American, because the Americans did not stay here long enough. Ignore the Chinese — they may be richer but they ain’t got snob appeal yet. But very soon they will.

Join the snootiest clubs. Make it the Polo Club or the Tower Club. Once you are there, you will meet the country’s biggies. Avoid the Lions, the Jaycees, the Rotarians, they are pang masa, too pedestrian.

Socialize — see to it that you are seen in the most pricey restaurants here and abroad; find out which of the snootiest hotels are favored by the Philippine rich — then go there, too. Get to know wines, cheeses, gourmet food — particularly European — and talk about them. That will show them you really know high living.

Here are some of the most expensive food items:

Champagne: Brut

Ham: Pata Negra

Caviar: Almas

Honey: Sidr

Spice: saffron

Get the most expensive cars — the Mercedes is the most obvious; get the Rolls or the Bentley instead. And use these cars only when you really want to impress people. Otherwise, go in an old beat-up car to places where you are known as a big shot. They will think you are humble, or — better still — an eccentric to be talked about.

Attend the opening of the flashiest art exhibits. You do not have to buy any, just one that you really like. Have a smattering of art vocabulary — Onib, Liongoren, Turner, Albers, Bosch. This is not difficult to do; there are so many art books now on sale in the bookshops. You can meet the collectors, some of them are social climbers like yourself.

Find out which of those new countries in unknown parts of the world have no representation in Manila. Get yourself an honorary post. You will then get invited to so many diplomatic receptions where you will get to again meet the social elite. Better still, ask the politicians to have you named ambassador to some African or South Pacific island nation, even just for a few weeks. You will then be addressed as “Ambassador” for life.

Avoid being offensive with honesty. If the steak is tough, the book is lousy and the show is dull, just say, “It has character.”

Having done all these, try attending those cultural events, book launchings and visit Solidaridad Bookshop as often as you can. The cognoscenti will start noticing you and they will even conclude — you are not only very rich, you are also an intellectual!

The final accolade — but be careful. Most intellectuals have no money. And worse, with them you may realize that after all that puffing, hawing and ass-licking, true class is not a Forbes Park address or a Tower Club membership.

As the ancient Greeks and Socrates who had class said, “It is virtue and excellence.”