Showing posts with label stereotypes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stereotypes. Show all posts
24 November 2007
as i see it (2)
200 lashes by being with someone who is not related to you and then raped many times? I am sure my father, who is himself a judge in Shari'ah will say "@!#@!#@!#; he never did have high regard for those from the Middle East. During his pilgrimages, he had fistfights with them. History repeated itself when my husband karate chopped one during "the stoning" because of that man's rudeness to us, fellow pilgrims. My brothers (descended from warriors) have the same "haj" stories - being in fights with them. Spare the snake in the desert if you have to choose between two antagonists, they would say. Remember the trauma of Sara Balabagan who fought her would be rapist? How can we of the same Faith differ vastly? I hate to overgeneralize and reinforce stereotypes, but I ask, how many of "them" would cry out for justice for this poor girl who may just wish to die from those lashes?
07 August 2007
rhymes we learned in childhood
Here is a rhyme we spouted when we were children:
Bate, bate chocolate (pronounced tso-ko-la-te)
Uncle Borja ta bate
The above one was taught by pompous older cousins. Several years later, when we were adults, we learned that the particular rhyme was quite a salacious one. In our innocence, we recited them in front of adults during merienda cena, when hot chocolate made traditionally using a wooden mixer was served. What I vividly remember were the chuckles and the giggles that came from the older people who were present. Poor Uncle Borja (may he rest in peace)! I just could imagine his discomfiture as we chanted those lines through the whole merienda scene.
This one was simply racist and very stupid. We chanted it when in an angry mood or when boisterousness possessed us:
Bisaya, Bisaya
Ta kaga na paya
This was sort of a social reaction on our part; a retaliation for endless taunting (children can be unmatched in cruelty); and a salve for broken egos. Well, we hope that we are forgiven and have learned our lessons. It is very ironic that, as an adult, my best of friends are Bisayas. Moral of this story - listen to what your children are chanting; for all we know, they don't really have a grasp of the connotations of their chants nor the effects they can have.
Bate, bate chocolate (pronounced tso-ko-la-te)
Uncle Borja ta bate
The above one was taught by pompous older cousins. Several years later, when we were adults, we learned that the particular rhyme was quite a salacious one. In our innocence, we recited them in front of adults during merienda cena, when hot chocolate made traditionally using a wooden mixer was served. What I vividly remember were the chuckles and the giggles that came from the older people who were present. Poor Uncle Borja (may he rest in peace)! I just could imagine his discomfiture as we chanted those lines through the whole merienda scene.
This one was simply racist and very stupid. We chanted it when in an angry mood or when boisterousness possessed us:
Bisaya, Bisaya
Ta kaga na paya
This was sort of a social reaction on our part; a retaliation for endless taunting (children can be unmatched in cruelty); and a salve for broken egos. Well, we hope that we are forgiven and have learned our lessons. It is very ironic that, as an adult, my best of friends are Bisayas. Moral of this story - listen to what your children are chanting; for all we know, they don't really have a grasp of the connotations of their chants nor the effects they can have.
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