Pinoy Baduy Ay n 1976, in the late, lamented Ermita magazine, it was defined by Mercedes R. Prieto and Gilda Cordero Fernando as that part of custom that made being Filipino “a bit of a drag,” even though “we've all felt proud of being truly Pinoy at one time or the other.” Pinoy Baduy, they felt, was being overly accomodating (excessive hospitality, bringing pasalubong, seeing people the airports, hunting down every last bilin). It was also being a creature of fads, aping the latest fashion (e.g. henna), the latest name brand, even the latest business (remember hot pan de sal? and now ihaw-balot?). Baduy was also branding everything, (a) with one’s name (car door, dashboard, book, ballpen); or (b) with a dropable one (e.g. on pants pockets false or true); or (c) for identification/assertion (pictures with family or the near-great, under glass). It was also making a big thing of pregnancy hilig and suffering; using such body language as lifted eyebrows to greet; overfeeding guests, even at hospitals and funerals; women setting up tindahan in offices, ladies’ rooms, university basements, fashionable subdivisions. It was the omnipresent basahan (on jeepney driver’s neck, on the sink, in chinese restaurant in the guise of a hot towel). It was palusot — not lining up when singit was possible, cutting through gas stations instead of turning corners, giving vague instructions when unwilling or unknowing. It was being late so as not to seem overeager; chronic filching, from mangoes on the tree to manhole covers; beign captivated by giveaways and extras. Last year, my student Ditas wrote in a composition of Definition: “Baduy” is wearing mustard-yellow pants, a violet printed shirt, a wide belt, chunky-heeled shiny brown boots — all at the same time. And just last April Mia exclaimed: “Tita, how baduy! when I lit a Hope cigarette in the lobby of the Peninsula Hotel in Hongkong. What, then, is Pinoy Baduy? Peachy and Gilda, it was doing the obvious, the over-eager, the non-classy thing —- something that the foreigner or the upper class or the old rich would never do, but which the Pinoy does because: (a) he does not know any better being cianong or uneducated and poor; or (b) his and the country’s poverty make BUDHI 3 ~~ 2001 & 1 ~ 2002390 DOREEN G. FERNANDEZ giveaways and shortcuts desirable and even necessary; or (c) certain values — e.g. pakikipagkapwatao — are expressed in ways (OA hospitality, seeing off at airports) that the Western sophisticate finds uncomfortable, awkward, or in bad taste. To Ditas and Mia, it is obviously not being “in the swing,” fashionable, in the know, hip. It is being out of step with fashion, being provinciano or, well, baduy. To both generational groups — the teenager and the “older adult,” it means not being “with it.” And what is “ it” with which one should be? Who sets the standards for “it”? The Westerner, of course, since being “with it” is obviously being Western. Thus, not being baduy is smoking blue seal, and knowing how to put (Western) clothes together. It is knowing when to wear Topsiders without socks; what the Preppy look is, and when it is in or out; when to be studiedly casual and when downright sloppy; when the three-piece suit is right and when unthinkable; where to go and eat and disco and shop, and what places to avoid like herpes; just which guys and coeds are sosyal, dull, bigat, okay without trying too hard. It is knowing the name brands to sport, the names to drop, the campus organizations to join, the current length of skirts and the rights with of pants’ legs. It is the way of the well-to-do teenager, the one who does not have to work for a scholarship, or take a part-time job, or slog at his English in order to stay in a private school. For the elder writers, it is being cool enough not to see a husband off at the airport, or bring home pasalubong (“because I am in and out too often”). It is not flaunting obvious brands like Gucci and Gloria Vanderbilt, because one uses the uncommon, unobtrusive (more expensive) Fendi, or Roberta di Camerino (the tiny R almost invisible, and unreconizable to most except the cognoscenti). It is not talking about the details of one’s pregnancy, labor and delivery but looking elegant before, during and after, like Princess Diana. It is an understated wedding, at which there are only two sponsors — both of impeccable pedigree — and very plain invitation (without the onionskin insert with the sponsor line-up) printed by I. Magnin. It is being impatient with the chaos of Philippine life, because in the U.S. traffic is neat, people line up at supermarket checkouts, no one drives the wrong way down a one-way street, and people arrive on time. BUDHI 3 ~~ 2001 & 1 ~ 2002PINOY BADUY 391 It is, in effect, being more oriented to life abroad than a patchy existence in this developing country. Does this imply, then, that the native, non-Stateside Filipino, member of the majority educated in public schools rural or urban, who barely understands English and only speaks Pilipino, is necessarily baduy? And if baduy is, as it seems to be, a term at least slightly pejorative — is then the majoruty of the Filipino nation to be looked down uponas not hip, not in the know, not in the swing? If, further, with the world economy the way it is, and the Philippine economy even more lamentable and lamented; with survival the highest priority such that food is more important than lifestyle and any clothing something to be grateful for, even if not in style — does this not mean that most Filipinos will always be baduy? at least until the quality of life changes? And will most Filipinos therefore remain objects of amusement and pity even exasperation in the eyes of the non-baduy elite few? Might it not be more accurate to say that baduy means being filipino? being in the national swim, suffering with the rest the scarcity, the ignorance, the being out of step with developed nations (and not only in lifestyle, either) being bearer of the burdens of the history, whatever the name, be it feudalism, oppression, colonialism, exploitation, imperialism, poverty or capitalism? To examine baduyness in another direction: Why are we so excessively, sometimes stupidly, hospitable? Probably because, as the receptors of at least two colonizations, we have had to be hospitable, in order to survive. We took the cross and the sword, the English language and consumerism, even the bowing and slapping of the Japanese occupation. And we survived. Why do we see everyone off at the airport? Because so many who have left have never returned, since the “land of milk and honey” is elsewhere. Because it is a way of makiramay, of sharing another’s burdens, something necessary in an agricultural culture, where fields are plowed and houses moved — together. A family member leaving for Saudi is to be mourned, not only because of dangers, loneliness, hard work away from loved ones — all because right here life is difficult, and relief has to be found elsewhere, and at much cost. BUDHI 3 --~ 2001 & 1 ~~ 2002392 DOREEN G. FERNANDEZ Why the pasalubong? Because to return is to be triumphant, and this too one shares. This also seems the reason we are so noisy, celebrative and joyous at funerals (when the Westerner is hushed and even ashamed to admit to normal hunger). We keep the bereaved family company in grief for as long as it takes — and it takes noise and games to keep awake. And the bereft appreciate the fellow-feelings, and reciprocate most directly — by feeding us all, often and to the limits of his pocket (and those of his lending friends). Our poverty is certainly the reason giveaways are so enticing, as are contests and prizes and things just lying around. Why would anyone take a manhole cover? First, because it can be sold. Secondly, because it belongs “to the government,” and is therefore; (a) really ours; or (b) deservedly ours, since the government is not doing all it should do for us — and we are in need. Why do we take shortcuts through gasoline stations? because mahirap ang buhay, and anything that will make it easier is justifiable. The term that preceded baduy was bakya. Borrowed from the footwear of the poor, it deserved a style and a sensibility, as Jose Lacaba pointed out in the essay “Notes on Bakya,’ subtitled “Being an Apologia of Sorts for Filipino Masscult.” It meant anything “cheap, gauche, naive, provincial, and terribly popular.” Quoting Leslie Fielder, Lacaba felt it indicated a “problem of class distinction in a democratic society. What is at stake is the refusal of cultural equality by a large part of the population.” He suggested that “the connoisseurs of bakya ... need not be ashamed of their affections,” since it made them outsiders to the exclusivist culture of the In Crowd, and the term of reproach, bakya, could well become as much a badge of honor as Indio eventually became, shedding attached opprobrium. Baduy too, is reproach, and it too can become a badge of pride. Because it means being authentic, and not pretending to know of or like that which others have stamped with approval. Because it means being embroiled in this human coil, being underprivileged and unable to navigate through elite culture. Because it means being of the greater many, and “in” — in the national swim towards survival. Because it means being loyal to likes and alliances, values and needs, even if these have not been canonized by the West (of whom one is not a devotee); BUDHI 3 ~~ 2001 & 1 ~ 2002PINOY BADUY 393 also being careful and constant about the struggle to live, even if unfashionably so. If baduy means being ‘,ut of the Western, foreign mode, then by all means let us stay ourselves, proud to be emphatically, Pinoyly, baduy. = BUDHI 3 ~~ 2001 & 1 ~~ 2002