For One Distant Island, a Plunge into the Present

[Guest guest]

This is a true story of how a previously isolated island has traversed 6,000

years of human history in two decades. So, in a way, its the story of what has

happened to all of us. If you are asked for a password, you can get one free.

-Glo

 

 

http://www.nytimes.com/2001/12/02/magazine/02ISLE.html?searchpv=past7days

 

Many on Babuyan still remember the ''before time,'' when there was a settled

egalitarianism rather than every-man-for-himself enterprise, when no one here

knew that the Ibatan were poor in a world of vast wealth. Within their tiny

civilization of 1,400 people, you can see so clearly the effects of modernity

and measure what is gained against what has been lost. And in the person of

Ruben Dican, the richest and most modernized figure on the island, you can see

the struggle to manage a problem that is new to them, but quite familiar to the

rest of the world: the divide between haves and have-nots.

 

[...]

 

After walking an hour in the midmorning heat, we come across Joaquin, an

ancient, loinclothed man in a tiny hut, chewing on areca nut, a local narcotic.

Judi, after a few questions, determines Joaquin was born in 1917, probably in

May. The man, it turns out, is Frank's great-uncle, his grandmother's brother.

This is not too surprising -- almost everyone on the island is related. Frank,

holding his son, gently eases under the grassy eaves of the hut's doorway, and

with her digital camera, Judi takes a picture of the three of them, crossing

four generations, for the book.

 

It is striking how far their paths have diverged in such a short period. Frank

spends his days worrying about the yield of his rice crop, businesses he might

start and how he'll ever manage to send his son to college. Joaquin is concerned

about feeling in harmony with the ''invisibles'' and spearing wild pigs. After

the photo is taken, they chat briefly about relatives. The old man, squatting on

the floor of his hut, looks quizzically at Frank, who is dressed in a polo

shirt, and says, ''It does not look like we are related.''

 

After we leave Joaquin, Frank seems reflective. Rundell pokes at him to get a

sense of why. ''Written language gave us a way to capture our history and

compare ourselves to people everywhere,'' Frank says after a moment. ''Now that

we have a past, I find that I think only of the future. I always feel a clock

ticking and time rushing by. But Joaquin, he lives always in the present. He

hears no clock. Once, that's the way we all were.''

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Guest guest]

In a message dated 12/4/01 10:35:32 AM Pacific Standard Time,

glee writes:

 

<<

It is striking how far their paths have diverged in such a short period.

Frank spends his days worrying about the yield of his rice crop, businesses

he might start and how he'll ever manage to send his son to college. Joaquin

is concerned about feeling in harmony with the ''invisibles'' and spearing

wild pigs. After the photo is taken, they chat briefly about relatives. The

old man, squatting on the floor of his hut, looks quizzically at Frank, who

is dressed in a polo shirt, and says, ''It does not look like we are

related.''

 

After we leave Joaquin, Frank seems reflective. Rundell pokes at him to get

a sense of why. ''Written language gave us a way to capture our history and

compare ourselves to people everywhere,'' Frank says after a moment. ''Now

that we have a past, I find that I think only of the future. I always feel a

clock ticking and time rushing by. But Joaquin, he lives always in the

present. He hears no clock. Once, that's the way we all were.''

>>

 

This was really worth reading. Thank you, Gloria.

 

jerrysan rinpoche