Last Saturday, our columnist and cultural arbiter, the ever astute and ladylike Rosalinda "Baby" Orosa (she’ll kill me for using that last descriptive term) told you, dear readers, who the Canadian Pinoys and Pinays were, and how they had richly deserved receiving from President GMA the "Banaag award" the previous day. And so I won’t repeat the litany of their names.
What most cheered me up at that lunch-affair in Peter’s Dasmariñas Village home, though, was the fact that one of the honorees came up to me and exclaimed: "Sir, you were my professor in the Far Eastern University!" I blinked. Yes, indeed. The gentleman turned out to be Art T. Viola, Deputy Lord Mayor of the town of Niagara-on-The-Lake, which is located near the world-famous Niagara Falls (Canadian side). The other bank of the immortal Falls, across the Rainbow Bridge, is of course Niagara Falls in Buffalo, New York State, USA.
In any event, Ant Viola had emigrated to Canada in 1967, after completing postgraduate studies as an exchange student in Tennessee and New Mexico in the United States. He had then worked as a medical technologist in St. Catherine’s Hospital in Niagara-on-the Lake. That’s where he met his wife, Julie Aperocho, who was also working in St. Catherine’s as one of the highest-ranking nurses there.
Julie, who was also at the party, laughed merrily when I asked her how they had fallen in love and decided to marry (in 1970). "There were so many female nurses and there was only three guys, so I grabbed him! After all, he was the only one who drove a sports car!" There is, naturally, far more than that to their romance – but it’s a cute story.
Proof of Art’s charm and winning ways is that in 1994, when he first jumped into politics, he was handily elected Deputy Lord Mayor of the town, and in the 1997 elections, even Lord Mayor. In 1988, for that matter, he was voted "Citizen of the Year" (as Ms. Orosa already pointed out) and last year, he received the Queen Elizabeth II Golden Jubilee Medal.
Just goes to show that when Filipinos go abroad, they excel most of the time. Perhaps this is because they have no "crutches" on which to lean – nothing except their own grit and ability – unlike here at home when they are spoiled by and become dependent on the family-support, tayo-tayo, and compadre-comadre system. When a Pinoy is on his own in a foreign land, he realizes, I guess, that there are only two ways: up or down. If you’re hoping to go up, nobody else but yourself can provide the booster-rocket.
Art had been in one of my FEU classes (in 1957) when he was a pre-med student. For six years I had taught Argumentation and Debate and English in that huge university (as well as in the University of the East) and briefly in St. Theresa’s College to supplement my meager income as a Manila Times reporter. Even when I got promoted to Asst. Business Editor – would you believe? – my salary was still inadequate! Believe me, those were very rewarding teaching years. If you’ve ever taught a subject in college, you’ll recall that, usually, the professor learns much more than his students. Why? Because he’s got to constantly be on his toes. There are always a few wiseguys in the class who’re determined to embarrass the teacher or professor, by reading and studying three or four chapters ahead of the unwary prof. Then they pounce on him with barbed questions he still hadn’t encountered or anticipated from the text book or lesson plan (prepared, at times, by the Dean).
In my case, our Dean was the late, brilliant Dean Africa (who had written the textbook on Argumentation), and afterwards, Dr. Alejandro Roces – yep, our former Education Secretary, former Manila Bulletin President, now our ever-scintillating STAR Columnist and National Artist for Literature Anding Roces.
I can remember every chapter of that terrific textbook of Argumentation and Debate with almost eidetic accuracy (having taught from it for so long) and, would you believe, years later I had even been offered the Presidency of Far Eastern University. The "emissary" who quietly conveyed the offer to me had been the late Enrique "Ike" Joaquin. I didn’t accept it, of course – not just because I didn’t feel qualified, but because my dear wife, Precious, who has a real Doctorate in Education, thought the entire idea a disastrous development for FEU. "And, besides," she remarked, clinching the no-go argument, "there are too many pretty coeds."
Art Viola, your old prof and FEU are proud of you! I no longer will tell people to "go jump in the lake!" I’ll say, "Go jump into Niagara-on-the-Lake!"
During the past two weeks, our 72,000 OFWs or OPAs ("Overseas Performing Artists") – out of a total of 80,000 Filipinos working in Japan – had been in a panic over a reported crackdown this December 22 on visa holders. In fact, our Ambassador to Japan, former Foreign Affairs Secretary Domingo "Jun" Siazon, requested a "two-year moratorium" on the matter to enable Filipino "entertainers" to train to qualify as well as cushion the shock of either, rejection in expulsion.
Mr. Ogawa – who worked several years in various postings in the United States, first in New York City, then in Houston, Texas, (he had served in the latter city for three years) – pointed out to me that the entire furor, had been provoked by an inaccurate news item which had appeared, datelined Tokyo, in the Kyodo News. The report, published November 24, had quoted an unnamed "official" as asserting that only 8,000 Filipina workers would be granted visas to be "entertainers" per year, while the rest would either be rebuffed or sent home.
"There will be no mass expulsion," Ogawa assured me. "This was never contemplated."
He showed me a "Draft Outline of the Action Plan of Measures to Combat Trafficking in Persons" dated December 7, with four pages categorized as an "Overview," "Immediate Friority Policies in the Action Plan of Measures to Combat Trafficking in Persons" (MVS note: in less delicate terminology, prostitution), and the "Process of Protecting Victims of Trafficking in Persons."
"There’s no cause for excitement or unease!" Ogawa said.
That’s easy to say, I replied. I think that what really discomfits this cash-strapped government of ours, with its current yawning fiscal deficit is the prospect of losing the hundreds of millions of dollars which are being sent home annually by our scores of thousands of "entertainers" or... let’s call them by the slang expression which is more current, Japayukis.
Their "contribution" is a large chunk of the $8.1 billion we expect from our almost eight million OFWs this year.
As it is, and this writer has been shouting it from the rooftops for the past decade, many Filipina would-be-entertainers go to Japan on the promise of a US$2,000-per-month salary. When they get finally there, however, their passports are "confiscated" by their employers and their take-home-pay is literally burgled to the extent of $1,500 being taken in the form of commissions, and ticket-and-other-expenses deductions by recruiters, handlers, middle-men, etc. In the end, the poor girls get only $500 per month.
Sometimes, even this could get nibbled to bits. The girls find themselves, out of the blue, saddled with having to repay $2,000 "in advances," or getting dunned for "debts" amounting to $2,000. They’re helpless, in such circumstances, to protest – and have to cough up. What’s amazing is that so many are still stampeding not just to get in, but to return to Japan after having served a previous stint there!
The Japanese Consulate here continues to be deluged with 300 to 500 applications per day – by prospective "entertainers" all of whom can wave the seal and stamp of Philippine government approval. This is in the form of what is known as the ARB ("Artists Record Book") issued by the government higher education department TESDA. In short, every aspiring entertainers headed for Japan is supposed to get "tested" by TESDA regarding their ability to sing and dance; i.e., entertain.
The Japanese, it seems, are no longer convinced of the reliability of the TESDA Artists Record Book. Beginning in February or March, the Japanese Immigration agency will itself conduct the tests and actual vetting, in addition to requiring two years of previous experience in some entertainment job.
Is it possible that this is the true core of the controversy? Can just anybody "buy" the earlier ARB seal of "okay" from our government officials? Gee whiz. The problem is that if I gave our readers three guesses, they’d hit the nail of the head with the first one.
The way things operate today is that would-be entertainers with ARB qualification get a three-month visa to work in Japan, with a possible extension of another three months. This means six months of employment over there. After half a year at most then, every one of our…well, Japayuki has to come home to the Philippines. Anyway, that’s the procedure. Many, of course, "fight" to go back again and again.
By latest accounting, our "land-based" OFWs in Japan sent home $389,025,000 last year – and this figure is based on just 62,530 OFWs.
Incidentally, there are 31,428 Filipino "illegal" in Japan – as of last January 1, 2004 count or almost a year ago. There are 46,425 illegal Koreans and 33,522 illegal Chinese. In short, we’re among the topnotchers in illegals over there.
How do our TNTs over there do it? With connivance, naturally. With whom?
Working in Japan, it seems, is not the chamber of horrors it’s often pictured to be. Either that, or earning a living in our country is far more difficult than braving the perils of "exploitation" in the land of the Japayukis.
The current controversy is not yet played out. But already I can see that much of the fault may be on our side.