Sunday, April 12, 2015

Beyond the Fun of Shadow Play

I remember those days in 1992. As soon as the sun went down, mother would take out empty jars of peanut butter or mayonnaise, line them up one by one, upside down on our dining table and light some four or five candles. She would then let drip small amounts of wax on the bottom of the bottles, so she could let the candles firmly stand on them – then she would blow out the candles once they were secured. 

I don’t remember ever having finished an entire evening newscast that whole year – light would always go off at about half past six. Good thing, there would be little daylight left at that time in the Philippines, otherwise my task of posing the candles in different parts of our house – one in the kitchen, another in my parents’ room, one in the dining area and another inside the restroom – would be exponentially difficult. Mom would always follow me to light the candles, because she did not allow me to play with matches.

We would always dine in obfuscated light, which was almost as good as darkness. I might have lost a lot of weight those days, because I did not find yellowish food appetizing. Every day, what was on our dinner table looked to have a tinge of yellow, because I could not recognize their real colors under the light of a single candle. 

After dinner, mom and I would spend hours, I do not know how much, lying in bed, because there was nothing left to do. It was very difficult to do my homework, because I could not read properly, and I would always miss the lines when I wrote. Those days, I had to wake up at about 4:30 in the morning, when power had been restored, so I could complete my assignments. 

Somehow, though, I enjoyed those days of regular blackouts. Being an only child, the hours of darkness resulted more boring, and I knew I had to find a way to amuse myself. That was when I discovered that I could create images of animals using the shadow of my hands. I learned how to create a dog, a goat, a goose, a rabbit, a bear, and of course, a bird (which I always find the easiest to do). Mom would always scold me, because I always stay up past my bedtime, discovering hand positions that would render the most realistic shadow images of animals.  

That was how I would put myself to sleep those nights. 

I remember that 1993 was a better year; blackouts were less frequent, and if they happened, it would just last for at most two hours. Eventually, it stopped.

Different perspective

After 23 years, reading a news item about the possible return of extensive load shedding in different parts of the Philippines reminded me of what it used to be. Sure, there were precious childhood memories created during those days, but living in a world that runs and develops with electricity, what preoccupies me now are the challenges that the looming blackouts will pose to a Filipino family. We were lucky we had the money to buy five candles every day, and still stay considerably comfortable despite the darkness. But, how about the poor families, which would rather buy rice and sardines than buy candles? How about the huge families that would not have a comfortable bed to lay on to pass the hours of no light? How about the families that stay in unsecured areas, which will expose themselves to more danger by passing the night in darkness? 

The huge leap in development that the world has taken for the past 23 years makes the effects of blackout that much more devastating. Now, life happens every second of the day, and even a momentary interruption of electricity would mean huge amounts of lost information or opportunities for businesses and services. How about factories that will have to suspend operation because the electricity from their local standby generators are not enough to power the entire plant? How about banks that now depend on computer networks for the completion of essential transactions? How about hospitals that have machines supporting the lives of critically ill patients? How about the trains carrying thousands and thousands passengers?

Now that I am all grown-up, load shedding represents a much bigger issue than just not wanting to eat yellowish food or thinking how to entertain myself in the dark. Now, blackouts mean more than just missing episodes of my favorite TV shows. If there is anything that the government or the utility companies can do to preclude the widespread power interruption from happening, they should employ it with urgency, because, in the world today, the effects of load shedding may be more disastrous than they once were. 

End

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Robert Bagatsing
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