The Wonder of Char

Please don’t smile. I know, for most people especially those who have this word as part of their rich vocabulary, might find this entry to be ridiculous.

However, it is not my intention to kid around. I have my moments of total insanity and I am sure that this is not a part of it.

Coming to Cebu to work has been a learning experience for me, as I may have already pointed out in my previous blogs. And recently, I learned yet another interesting piece of information.

I got to use the word “char” in all its uniqueness. Not entirely sure what it meant, I began to explore the possibilities of using it. As a noun, as in “charness”. As an adjective, like in “charing”. And even a verb, as in “chinarut”.

Oh the wonder of Filipino semantics! We can adopt a specific language, real or inanimate, to suit our various whims!

Yet one fateful Tuesday morning at Lavada Queen while doing my laundry (or make that, while waiting for my laundry as the machine washes and dries them up,) I was just suddenly confused as to why I actually use the word.

I hear people always say it in reference to something said prior to that. Most of the time, it would be some powerful observation, something so true – that it borders into cheesydom. And so, as a result, the word is said to counter whatever negative effect the previous profound words shall accrue.

It made me wonder then why people have become so defensive.

Is it because we have become so shallow that anything deeply thoughtful turns out to be a threat?

I hope not. Yet it seems like evidence proves us otherwise.

I think we have been so accustomed to the frivolity of everything and everyone around us, that we never get to go about “placidly amid the noise and haste” anymore. One joke here and there is reasonable; after all, laughter is still the best medicine. But sheer flippancy? Now, that’s a totally different matter altogether.

It has been said that Filipinos are particularly good at laughing at their problems. But the bad thing about that is that problems being laughed at never go away. Sure, we may never look sorrowful as our foreign friends (or fiends) expect us to be, but we sure look pitiful in the long run.

Laughter is just medicine. But stopping there is no better than crying your heart out and killing yourself in the process. It’s supposed to counter the discouragement brought about by the most disheartening of circumstances so that we could muster enough strength to carry on. Not hanging around and looking like morons.

If we expect to ever improve as a nation or as a person we have to relearn the lost art of being serious.

Not sour seriousness. But a fresh look at reality.

That way we begin to live our lives, not out of fear that someone will reject us, but with a freedom that comes from the knowledge that tough times never last, but tough people do.

Char.