The World Without the Poor
When Pedy first came to the office in her tight maong (denim) shorts asking who wanted a manicure, the initial tendency was to ignore her as one of those vendors who come and go. In time, she became a regular sight especially at noon and in the evenings: cutting hair, cleaning nails, and even cutting of pants or hemming of dresses for immediate use.
Aside from her low service charge, her presence allows us to save time going to the beauty parlor. It also allows us to continue working at the computer while having our nails cleaned.
Pedy has become part of our office lives. And so does Nina, the single parent who manages to provide for her kids by selling cooked food. She considers herself very lucky as the staff of two nearby offices rely on her food, especially before payday.
Come to think of it, we should also consider ourselves lucky that we have Nina. One time, when she decided to rest without prior notice, most of us had late meals, plus the added discomfort of having to walk under the noonday sun.
When we don't have snacks, we would hope that the fruit or mais (corn) vendor would show up. Such is the convenience offered by a lot of the poor's efforts to earn themselves a living. I used to commute from the office to my kids' school and home. While waiting for a ride I would suddenly remember I needed to buy fruits, or realize that a comb or nail cutter is missing. The sight of the ever-present sidewalk vendors would then be a relief.
Every now and then I would be annoyed by the presence of so many kids in the neighborhood who would play in front of the office. They are not only noisy, they also step on the plants. Yet they are the ones to whom I would turn to sweep the office whenever the utility person is absent or if there are bundles that need to be carried.
In their own ways, so many of our poor have managed to survive and uphold their dignity despite meager resources. Especially in situations where government falls short in facilitating services for its constituents, the poor have managed to survive by themselves, literally "pulling themselves up with their own hair."
Amidst underemployment to unemployment, they vend, clean nails, whatever. Especially the women - their bags would contain homemade cookies or chorizo (sausages) or panties to sell to co-workers, just to earn additional income.
Amidst an acute housing shortage, they would squat and build their own homes. Literally without assistance from anyone - not even the government (which until very recently considered the squatters criminals simply for providing for their own God-given right to shelter) - usually after giving up their last few thousand pesos to unscrupulous persons who have prior stake over the space. Sometimes the poor survive by renting dilapidated rooms without windows at fairly high rates.
Because they don't own the land, they apply for temporary electrical connection at a rate that is often higher than the regular connection. They buy water by pail which would cost around P2.00, probably five times more than what the better-off pays to MCWD. They often have to pay at least P1.00 just to use public toilets. Despite so-called socialized rates, public services do in fact cost more for the poor, especially those belonging to the informal sector.
To the better-off, these ways of coping may not be acceptable. The few pieces of used plywood that a poor family considers home is called an eyesore. An old table by the roadside containing a few fruits that feed a family of five is called a traffic hazard. Ad infinitum.
Yet it is hard to imagine a world without street vendors nor drivers, without labanderas (laundrywomen) nor babysitters, nor house helpers, without construction workers, nor street cleaners nor salesgirls. They are the people who reside in squatter areas, the eyesores that we may want to eliminate.
When there is talk of development, the initial picture is that of built structures, clean, massive and people-free. And so the eyesores have to go, especially when there are guests for the ATF, APEC and other initials which politicians consider so important. When they refuse, we consider them hard headed, opportunists and what have you.
To add insult to injury, do-gooders in government and non-government sectors look to the poor with conceit. They embark on projects proudly proclaiming the people's participation. Perhaps we should adopt a new perspective. The poor have managed to survive without the government nor NGO's. Should not our projects in fact partcipate in people's day-today struggle for survival (and development), rather than have people participating in our development projects no matter how well-meaning these projects may be?
People have been providing their own solutions to their own problems. For instance, I work with Lihok Filipina and we have managed to help a good number of women with small livelihood loans. I must in all humility admit that our help is merely a drop in the bucket in terms of the number of women we have helped compared to the number of women who need help. I must also admit the amount of assistance we have given to each of these women is very little compared to their own needs, also very little compared with the inequities that each of the women have to device just to cope with an increasing anti-poor world.
Squatter areas may be eyesores, but they are also home to Pedy and to many other poor people who allow cities to survive. I do not know about you, but I certainly cannot imagine life without Pedy, nor Nina, Pina, Bening and countless others.