why i now hate call centers

Last May 2006, I went to Davao on an all-expenses paid camp for the US embassy Democracy Summerfest. It was the Arts Module, held at the cool and green Eden Park.

Of the 100 or so participants there, three stood out. Two of them, in particular, I noted for a fervent nationalistic attitude I wished I had.

The girl from UA&P politely refused to speak in English because "mas masarap kasi pakinggan ang sarili nating wika." She even brought a Filipino-English Dictionary to camp.

The guy, from somewhere in Central Luzon, was older, singkit, wore glasses, had a goatee. He gave off the impression that he joined a lot of political rallies. Student activist gyud. I remember one poetry session when, upon the prodding of Creative Writing Workshop facilitator Vim Nadera, we wrote tanaga, 4 lines 14 syllables.

His work, published in the Kubing, our lit folio, is as follows:

Bulag
By N.B.P.

Kabataan nasa’n ka na?
Naglahong tila bula-
Halika na, halina-
Sabihing may bukas pa.

We kept in touch after the camp. Out of the blue, he texted that he hadn't slept for days. Assuming it had something to do with his campus publication work, I asked him why.

He replied that he was now working in a call center.

When I read the message, I winced. I was disappointed. Here was my friend who spouted nationalistic sentiments last year, and yet he was now explaining some godawful technical solution to Americans. Where were the tomorrows and the youth being the catalyst for change? Does that involve call centers? The easy money and the lure of it all--is it that powerful?

Nearing graduation myself, I wonder if I'd sell out too.

I won't.

I'd have convinced myself of that last statement had it not been for my need to repeat it.

I won't.