The Precariousness of the Human Condition as Reflected in Five Filipino Short Stories

“Uncertainty is the only certainty there is,
and knowing how to live with insecurity is the only security.”
- John Allen Paulos-


“Still no job until now,” this was the e-mail subject of one of my close friends. After graduation in college, he tried everything to look for a job. Then in his message, he wrote, “I thought I was certain that education would help me land on a job.” Just like him, man’s condition is uncertain. This is even confirmed by John Keats, a famous English poet, as he said, “The imagination of a boy is healthy, and the mature imagination of a man is healthy; but there is a space of life between, in which the soul is in a ferment, the character undecided, the way of life uncertain, the ambition thick-sighted.” Moreover, an American Baptist Minister and Civil-Rights Leader, Martin Luther King, Jr. asserted that “All progress is precarious, and the solution of one problem brings us face to face with another problem.” I believe nobody would argue on those. In fact, the only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty—not knowing what comes next. Human condition is precarious in various respects because it has no guarantee. This is reflected in five Filipino short stories.
First, in The Distance to Andromeda, man is precarious about the end of the world. A boy, named Ben, after watching a movie on a theater, is terrified. He is bothered by the horrific scenes on the screen—the last men and women on earth preparing to leave for another planet because the earth is being destroyed. These images keep on haunting him, even when he’s playing and walking around with his friends, kid around his niece, and talk to his mother. He can’t help but be afraid. Whenever he asks anyone if what happened in the movie is going to really happen, nobody seems care. The situation terrifies him even more now because he is uncertain of what will happen to him, to his friends, and to his family when the world ends. Yet at the end, he finally finds peace through the love and care of his family—he is safe and protected, no matter what will happen, by his loving family. Ben was anxious and worried because he wanted to know two things: first, is the world really going to end, and second, when and how. Yet, nobody gave him the answer. Maybe the reason was nobody cared. Or most likely it was because nobody really knew. At the end of the story, Ben was comforted. However, the fact remains: man may be bothered or not, the world is still going to end. Both the bible and science predict the coming end of the world. Still, no one can tell exactly and precisely when and how is it going to be. How? Through intensified natural calamites? Or through giant meteors? Another flood? No one can tell us how. When? Definitely, today’s situation is not a guarantee. Scientists say it will be in 300 years. What if it happens next year? Or next month? Or the next day? Man is anxious because of this certain uncertainty.
Second, that man is precarious about identity is portrayed in The Day the Dancers Came by Buenvenido Santos. Filemon “Fil” Acayan is a Filipino who is now living in America with his friend Tony. Basic to Filipino impulse abroad is being eager to socialize with his kababayans (co-Filipinos). Fil, in order for him to have moments with them, invites the Filipino dancers but he is always rejected (perhaps because of his approach, but anyway, his invitation was never accepted). This makes him feel miserable. The only thing that makes him feel better is his recorder—a record of his conversations with Filipinos and Filipino songs for the dancers. One day, this recorder was broken by his friend Tony, who has a disease which makes him awkwardly white and who doesn’t like to see Filipinos because he believes he is an American. Then, Fil realizes his full and final separation from the country and nation he loves. The story shows two people with the same origin, Philippines, and the same present location, America, yet with different struggles about their identities. Fil wants to see Filipinos because he still feels he is one of them, while Tony loves to go out with Americans because he thinks he belongs to them. Nevertheless, it is so ironic because Fil is rejected by Filipinos and so is Tony rejected by Americans. Both of them are discarded by the people they think they belong to (poor them). Identity holds no warranty for people with diverse and hybrid cultures like Filipinos. Hence, many Filipinos are uncertain about their identity. On the one hand, if he says he is a Filipino and takes a closer look to how he behaves and acts, he would sooner realize he is Western. On the other hand, if he says he’s Western and takes a look at the mirror, he would realize that he looks Filipino. Thus, whichever identity he takes, it is not an assurance that he firmly fits there. So what really is a Filipino identity? Who knows? I guess (still uncertain), nobody does.
Third, that man is precarious about emotion is illustrated in Manuel Arguilla’s Heat. Mero, a man about 19 or 20, discovers something unusual one morning as he wakes up and gets to his friend Polo’s place. He feels something strange. He can’t stop himself from looking at Meliang’s body and can’t stop thinking about her. At night, the feeling intensifies—as he close and open his eyes, still Meliang is all he sees. He goes out from the house, and then he starts to ask himself what’s the matter with him. Later that night, while he holds her around the waist, he finally had the chance to reveal to Meliang what he ought to say: “Meliang, you are so beautiful.” Throughout the story, one can neither read “love” nor “lust” (it’s not certain). What is certain is a strange feeling Mero had toward Meliang. He, however, was not certain about it—does he feel love or mere physical attraction? Or worse, lust. (Who knows? The protagonist isn’t even sure). Man’s emotion can’t ensure anything: this time he feels this, next time he feels that. In fact, one of man’s most uncertainties is emotion. Man’s emotion seems to have a life of its own; it can’t be controlled—nobody can control his feeling, that’s for sure. One day, one wakes up hating the thing he used to love; or loving what he used to hate. If one feels good today, nobody can guarantee him that he would feel the same the next day. What is he going to feel then? Nobody knows.
Then, Edilberto Tiempo’s The Grave Diggers depicts that man is precarious about survival. Agustin grows with good ethics and morality nurtured to him by his family. He is poor and his wife is sick and is absolutely dying. He apparently has no choice but to join the group of grave diggers. This job seems to be fine until he finds out that the group has no respect for the dead. He learns that after digging, they would steal precious things like necklaces. He considered this an act of immorality. Hence, he doubts if he has to join. Nicolas, one of the diggers, keeps on forcing and rationalizing him—that it’s justifiable to do it because the dead is dead and so is not going to need those precious materials anyway. Considering his status and his wife’s condition, apparently Agustin is left with no choice. At the moment, he is not certain on how he can feed his family and how he can sustain the medical needs of his dying wife. Thus he goes out with the group. One night, while doing the job, Nicolas gets a skull and drinks from it. The skull becomes a glass from which the group would drink. Agustin can not stand this insolent act, so he goes away. Life can’t assure man of survival. One day he’s alive, next day he’s dead. Food, money, accidents, diseases—these are some of the reasons for man’s death. In response to this, it has been long proven that human instinct for survival is more powerful than morality. This gives us the explanation why many people turn to be deceivers, liars, corrupt, and most of all, thieves. They all want to survive. Still, people die. But this story rejects the concept of immorality for survival sake. Agustin, after seeing that indecent act, walks out. Yes, he is able to remain righteous and morally upright. However, the fact remains: he has no money to support and sustain his family, especially his dying wife. Man may be immoral or moral, still survival is not certain.
Finally, The Cargo by Anthony Tan shows that man is precarious about circumstances, although he has nothing to do with it. Asmawil is in dilemma: if he’s going back home, he and his family (wife and children) are going to face death; and if he doesn’t, he’s not going to see his family ever again. Asmawil is uncertain if he’s going back home or not because he has already anticipated what most probably would happen (which is also uncertain), that every person in the village is going to accuse him as the primary suspect. Every man, except him, in his ship is dead. He actually did nothing. He did not even want the tragedy, nor did he even think it would happen. Although the death of men in his cargo is neither of his will nor action, still he suffers the uncertain consequence. He was just sailing with his people in the ship, and everything seemed to be perfect and peaceful; suddenly, something terrible happened—his men got killed. He did not know such tragedy would occur in his ship. And it really did. Life has no guarantee. Now may be peaceful yet a second later can be tragic. Nobody knows. Who does? Sometimes man suffers what he does not deserve. And worse: the most painful suffering is the uncertainty of what the present suffering might bring him.
Because there’s no guarantee, human condition is always precarious in different angles: about the end of the world, identity, emotion, survival, and circumstances. All these uncertainties may be present in life, but man has to realize he should not be shaken. R. I. Fitzhenry declared, “Uncertainty and mystery are energies of life. Don’t let them scare you unduly, for they keep boredom at bay and spark creativity.” Man may want to quest for certainty yet it blocks the search for meaning. He has to know that uncertainty is the very condition to impel him to unfold his powers. Vincent van Gogh, a Dutch painter, one of the greatest of the Post-Impressionists, pronounced: “For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”