MANILA, Philippines - Not all battles take place in the battlefield. In fact, most battles are fought in normal day-to-day lives. It does not necessarily have to be in an arena full of cheering crowds, but it could be anywhere: in the streets, in school, at home, or even when one is alone.
As a kid, I always pictured out heroes as big strong men with six pack abs flying around the city saving innocent lives from the hands of evil villains. I thought all heroes wore a red cape, ran as fast as a speeding bullet, turned things into ice, and stopped meteors from destroying the earth! But reality kicked in, and I realized no one has nerves of steel, no one can throw fireballs from their bare hands and that not everyone who wears tights and capes are super heroes. So what then, defines a real hero?
First, a hero must have personal integrity. Susan Kramer defines personal integrity as “creating and maintaining harmony by following our conscience and acting for the highest good.” We all saw how Spiderman’s suit suddenly turned jet black; amplifying not only his powers but also his dark qualities. We saw him make a choice, either to lose himself in the darkness or struggle to break free to go back to the compassionate hero we all knew. Spiderman’s decision to fight all odds to be back to normal and to do good is an example of personal integrity. We all have a choice, but individuals with integrity always choose to do good even if it entails sacrifices and struggles.
Next, all heroes should value family solidarity. Solidarity, as defined by the English dictionary, is a union of expression. It’s being one with your family and your loved ones amidst all the crises each one of you face. I guess we all could credit “The Incredibles” for showing us what family solidarity feels like. Sure, Mr. Incredible did hero jobs behind Mrs. Incredible’s back jeopardizing his whole family’s safety in the process... But in the end family is still family. So we saw how they forgave each other in the end, after all no one’s perfect and at the end of the day, you just have to be there for your family no matter what the situation calls for.
Being a hero doesn’t stop there, one must also be aware of his civic responsibility. It is our obligation to serve our community and be of help to every members of the society. I guess we all see that in every hero from movies. No one asked Superman to be Superman; he just kind of did so that he’d be of great help to the people. No one forced Wonderwoman to save lives, she could have easily said no, but she felt bound to some obligation ... to serve.
And finally, the final ingredient to the making of a true hero is not Chemical X like that of the Powerpuff girls; it is Universal Charity. Charity is helping those who are in need. It is also benevolence or generosity toward others. Shouting “Help!” or “Save me!” could have easily fell into deaf ears if heroes weren’t willing to help those in need. Any hero could have just ignored citizen’s pleas or let a passing train hit you, they don’t know you personally anyway. But I guess all heroes share this passion for charity. They are always there extending a helping hand to those who cry for help and even to those who don’t.
So that’s it, all those four qualities would make a great hero. Yes, I only cited heroes we see beneath 3D glasses and movie screens. Yes, I only mentioned Superman and Mr. Incredible and some other popular heroes. That’s because true heroes are everywhere and I could went on and on writing all their names till infinity. But in real life, it’s not the animated flying cartoon that makes the difference in this world. Those heroes are only a figment of an artist’s imagination; they don’t exist. But fret not, because this world, especially in this country, the Philippines, we all have lots of living heroes. We may not have enough space to build each one of them statues, but they’re there living amongst us. Yes, they are ordinary individuals from all walks of life, they don’t wear a mask or tight fitting costumes, but they have the biggest heart. We, Filipinos, are known for our values that were handed down to us by our ancestors. We hold on to these values even amidst changing times and innovations, because these very values define our being Filipino: the values of hospitality, solidarity, respect, optimism, and the concern for the welfare of our fellowmen.
We look around this country and there are a million things that we could list as wrong or “not ideal.” But in spite that, we all love the Philippines. Not a year passes by without storms or typhoons hitting our islands. These natural calamities destroy millions of homes and lands, but we never fail to stand up above every storm. We don’t let the strong currents of flood wash us away, but we stand strong and plant our feet firmly to the ground, we all hold on. We conquered the highest mountains, because we believe that no mountain is too high for a person of faith. We have been the target of too many racial criticisms, but we remain loyal to the blood that runs in our veins, we proudly say, “I’m proud to be a Filipino,” wherever we are in this world. We see poverty everywhere, but we all still manage to smile and see the bright side of life. We are Filipinos, we may not be born with a gene that code for nerves of steel but we’re kind of close to that. I can proudly say that from where I came from, everybody is a hero.
Finally, Calidad Humana is a Spanish phrase that means “strength of human character.” It has four operational hallmark areas such as personal integrity, family solidarity, civic responsibility, and universal charity. It’s the perfect ingredients I’ve mentioned for the makings of a great hero. That’s a hero that is not merely a reflection of one’s imagination or artistic prowess, but a hero that appears to be just a normal person but creates extraordinary difference in others’ lives.
Calidad Humana is greatly exemplified by Filipinos everywhere. Sure, we may be a “third world country” but who cares when heroes are everywhere? Not all battles occur in the battlefields because we fight our battles daily not with swords or armors, but with hearts, conscience, and love.
Essay Proper
It was a usual busy lunch break at Lab 10 of the Main Building of the University of Santo Tomas. Papers flew around as people struggled to complete gazillions of lab reports on time. Some rush outside to go grab a quick bite while some cram their hearts out while mumbling silly mnemonics. Still some chose to doze off into a powernap enough to keep them on their toes until the day ends. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the wonderful lives of pre-med students.
In the corner of the laboratory sat me and my other four friends, throwing review questions at each other when suddenly, the conversation shifted from Anemias and Leukemias to our plans for the future. We talked about the doctors we look up to, how they were once a struggling student like us, and how far they have reached from being one of those kids repeatedly reciting mnemonics for the twelve cranial nerves to being a big shot physician. How some doctors, who were once in uniforms like us, are now clad in crisp Armani suits and Italian shoes, driving around in BMWs and providing their families the “good life.” We all sigh dreamily at the thought, and one even said, “Hey, we’re all gonna get there. After a few years of stress, all of this it’s all gonna be worth it.”
But I wondered, what exactly defines being worth it? Is it measured by the car you drive or the shoes you wear? Those questions led me into writing this story.
Why do people decide to become doctors anyway? To be able to become a doctor, one must first go to any four year pre-med course then proceed to medical school. That’s another four years right there. Then, there’s residency training, which is between three to six years. The count doesn’t stop there if you want to go into fellowship, which again adds up another year or two or maybe more. That’s roughly a minimum of ten years. And those years are not blissful and carefree years; its days spent indoors under a fluorescent lamp and nose buried in books. Its sleepless nights, nights spent in study tables instead of beds. These are years of caffeine overload and tweaking normal circadian rhythms in order to survive the currents of medical school.
After sacrificing fun and youthful days for stressful ones, maybe one would tell oneself that I deserve nothing but the best. But this story isn’t about the big shot physicians we gawked at that one busy lunch break. This story belongs to those doctors, who also went through the same hard years, but took the path less taken: doctors who chose to become “Doctors to the Barrios.”
Doctors to the Barrios (DTTB) is a program of the Department of Health created by Dr. Juan Flavier in May 1993 with the objective to deploy competent and dedicated doctors to “doctorless”, hard to reach, and economically underdeveloped municipalities. Doctors give two years of service to different rural areas around the Philippines and after that, they have the choice to continue or not.
Dr. Che Zablan is a doctor to the barrio. Her article in Inquirer’s Young Blood last 2008 left a mark in me that I still remember vividly her words until now. She tells how people thought she was crazy for choosing to be a doctor in the barrio and how everyone questioned her move. She says, “It never fails to amaze me that people find it unusual that a young doctor would decide to work in the barrios and normal to work abroad.” Fearful for her safety, her family was against her decision at first. But she still carried on with her mission to serve.
She was assigned at Alilem, Ilocos Sur, a fifth class municipality with a population of 6,217. The place was a far cry from the usual life she was used to. No Starbucks coffee to satisfy her caffeine cravings or sugar glazed donuts or even just the luxury of having a television. In addition, she didn’t speak Ilocano, the dialect of Alilem. She was away from her family and friends and knew no one. According to Dr. Che, “90 percent of the people are poor. People survived on a monthly income of 1,000 pesos.” In Alilem, she even experienced crossing hanging bridges and rivers, riding garbage trucks, and walking along rice terraces. She also experienced riding a balsa or a wooden raft made up of bamboos tied together. She conquered all of these just to reach locals who are in dire need of medical intervention. She was the only doctor in the place.
In an interview with Vocations Online, Dr. Che recalled one of her first patients in Alilem who was an 80-year-old man. Like most of the locals, he didn’t speak Tagalog, so Dr. Che had to speak to him through a translator. The man had been blind for ten years but never did he seek any doctor for help. It would require surgery to let him see again. But the man told Dr. Che that he doesn’t want surgery, he just wanted to meet a doctor because he never had a chance to meet one his entire life.
She had to attend to 80 to 100 patients a day, enough to drown any doctor to exhaustion. But she got used to the way things were run in the place. Eventually, she fell in love with Alilem and its people. Being a doctor to the barrio, she was also in-charge of the community’s health. Being the leader, she encountered countless of difficulties. She says, “Imagine coming up with a million ideas, only to find out that your budget can only fund one or, if you’re lucky, two of these.” The challenges didn’t end there. She faced harsh realities because although she wanted to give her patients the best treatment possible, lack of funds and facilities prevented her from doing so. “Imagine coming face to face with a 70-year-old man complaining of chest pain. You know he is having a heart attack and that he needs to be given medication promptly to prevent further disabilities and then rushed to the hospital. But the reality is, you don’t have any medicine on hand and the nearest hospital is four hours away — by foot. What can you do except pray?” Indeed, the experience taught Dr. Che to be strong amidst all the challenges life throws at her. She learned the value of prayer and faith. She added, “The program taught me to go out of my way and serve people.”
It was Dr. Che’s dream to become an obstetrician-gynaecologist. But she had to put that dream on hold to be able to serve the people of Ilocos Sur. She placed other people’s welfare before her own. She said, “I joined the Doctors to the Barrios Program with the crazy idea that I could change the world. But after six months, the barrio taught me a lesson: If you want the world to change, change first.”
Two years of being away from the comfort you were used to and from the people you love is no joke. Turning your back from the city where opportunities for young doctors sprout like mushrooms is a great decision to make. But Dr. Che didn’t think twice when she signed up to be a barrio doctor. It was true people thought she was insane for choosing this path when she could have easily made a name for herself as a specialist in the city. But her obligation to her country made her strong enough to stand by her decision. Yes, she could have gained more if she stayed in Manila, but the smiles and the warmth that the people of Alilem gave her is worth more than all the money in the world.
Dr. Bien Nillos is also a doctor to the barrio. Like Dr. Che, he opted to serve his fellow countrymen in remote areas in the country instead of working in big hospitals. His story was once featured at TV5’s Ako Mismo. Dr. Bien was assigned in Candoni, Negros Occidental, a fourth class municipality. He was the only doctor to 19,987 residents.
Three years in service at Candoni, Dr. Bien saw the many problems that the place encountered in terms of health service. He cited the lack of nearby pharmacies, access to basic health care and facilities in health centers as the top reasons that hinder the provision of quality health care to the people. Amidst all the challenges and the long list of things the placed lacked, he stayed and tried his best to change this. He made the most out of the little he had to make a difference to the thousands of lives depending on him. As a result, he was able to fix the health center at Candoni and start the program called “Buntis Bag” to address the needs of pregnant women in the place.
Clad in simple maong jeans, a simple shirt, and his trusty backpack, he travels to hard-to-reach areas via the habal-habal, a motorcycle modified to sit as many as thirteen persons including their baggage. The ride lasts for an hour on a rough road.
Upon arriving at those areas, Dr. Bien is treated like a celebrity. For many people, he is a hero. The mere sight of him places a smile on the locals because he is seen as a symbol of hope. Hope because no doctor would have went all that way to give them free treatment and cater to their needs. Hope because the people would have the chance to see a doctor even if they couldn’t afford seeing one. Hope because they may have a chance for a better life where no sickness would hinder them from living it to the fullest.
Dr. Bien showed that there was a different side to being a doctor, going up the mountains, crossing rivers and bridges and rough roads and having his clinic under the shade of a tree. It’s a real contrast to the perks that the doctors experience when practicing in the metropolis. Nurses and staff of the health center at Candoni says Dr. Bien has been “a blessing” to their place.
Mang Juanito Semilla, a 53-year-old bed-ridden patient of Dr. Bien, calls the doctor milagro, a Tagalog term for miracle. Mang Juanito needs surgery in order to improve his condition but is prevented due to scarce financial resources. Dr. Bien gives him continuous medication to alleviate the pain he was going through. Medications may not heal Mang Juanito completely, but he says it’s enough to keep him going.
What did Dr. Bien learn in his three tough years of being a doctor to the barrio? He says in Tagalog, “Always strive for happiness, you can find fulfillment in many ways. I found mine in serving the people through public health.” He adds, “I experience the fulfillment of being a doctor in serving those who are not so fortunate. I couldn’t see myself in big hospitals, but in serving the poor people.”
271 municipalities in the Philippines had been without a doctor for five years. Out of thousands of doctors who graduate each year, less than one percent chooses to become doctors in the barrios. Dr. Che and Dr. Bien are among those doctors who chose to turn their backs on luxury, on thousands of fees and to comfortable living conditions in order to serve the country. Being a doctor is no joke, the mere addition of all the years spent under the books is enough to intimidate and scare a person away. Those who stayed and answered the call are indeed passionate enough to serve the sick. However, those who chose to carry out their careers without asking for anything in return are indeed passionate enough to serve the sick AND their country.
Calidad Humana is seen in people who show strength of character and yet still struggle steadily for an even stronger character. Dr. Chen, Dr. Bien and the rest of the barrio doctors are the best living examples of this. Signing up for something so extreme is already a brave decision in itself, but staying and enduring all the challenges the new life throws at them- now that’s courage.
“Calidad Humana has four operational hallmark areas: personal integrity (that signals an authentic love of self), family solidarity (that signals an authentic love of family), civic responsibility (that signals an authentic love for one’s community), and universal charity (that signals an authentic love for the rest of the country).”
The doctors in the barrio show us personal integrity by merely joining this cause. They could have worked hard to establish a name for themselves and specialize in whatever field they are interested in, but instead they set all of these aside because their conscience told them that there was something more than just yourself. Taking the path less traveled by doctors, they put the needs of those in rural areas first before their personal gains.
They show us what real family solidarity is. Amidst the distance, they continue to be one with their families. Their work itself reflects civic responsibility. No one forced them to go to the mountains, to the secluded areas in the provinces, but they went for it anyway. No one paid them big amounts of money but they didn’t mind. It was authentic love for the community that made them stay and love its people. Finally, universal charity is evident in every one of them. Choosing to stay and serve our fellow countrymen tells us a lot.
All of those make the doctors in the barrio a hero in their own rights. Not everyone would be bold enough to follow their footsteps. Not everyone would agree that it’s the best career choice to make. People thought they were insane, yet they didn’t care. As long as they were able to fulfill their duty to the people, then no amount of criticisms, negativity or challenges could drag them down. All of those only toughened them up.
In this busy laboratory, I look around the aspiring doctors and asked myself how many of these people would someday be brave enough to make bold decisions to go to the barrios and serve. How many would be strong enough to say no to money and yes to service?
My mind was pulled back to the conversation about the future and the doctors we look up to. My friends mention high earning physicians who are at the top of their game. Suddenly, the bell rings and we all pace uneasily for yet another exam. My friend pat our backs and says, “Don’t worry guys, as I said, in the end it’s all gonna be worth it.”
There it goes again, worth it. However, this time I no longer ask myself what the phrase worth it really means. Being worth it can’t be measured by the clothes you wear, the house you live in or the money you earn. Maybe many of us have been brainwashed for too long believing that success depends on the number of digits you have on your bank account. But having known the story of the barrio doctors, I realized there was more to being worth it than just the superficial. It’s bringing change to people, being their light in times when they thought it was the end, giving them smiles, alleviating their sufferings, and being God’s tool for his healing hands.
Next time we talk about the future, I won’t anymore gawk at stories of high paying doctors, but rather, I’ll tell my friends of the unsung heroes of today. Yes, they don’t wear crisp Armani suits or expensive Italian loafers, they may not even own a BMW in their lifetime, but they sure made all the difference in the world. Yes, they were once a struggling student like us but instead of hitting the road to be rich and famous; they went the opposite way to the road of simplicity and public service. I’d tell my friends that yes, it’s all going to be worth it the end, not when we start earning big, but when we start seeing smiles of patients whom we helped and served.