LISTEN

“The music is all around us. All you have to do is listen.” These were the sage words that ended August Rush, a movie about a young musical prodigy in search of his parents. The film highlighted how sensitivity to the beat and rhythm of life leads to wholeness, an answer to one’s soul’s cry. However, this article is not a commentary on the movie. The movie just calls to mind a very glaring lack in our government officials who are too full of themselves; government officials who do not listen.
Last month, I travelled to a province hard-hit by Typhoon Pablo as part of a foreign-funded development project. But before the trip, we had to wrangle an appointment with the regional director of the relevant government agency as this was a bilateral agreement with the funder. Initial phone contact was a delightful experience of being passed around six personstowhom we each exhaustingly explained our objective despite an official memo from the head office. When we finally got the meeting, a sullen receptionist faced us and made a big show of reading the memo while replying to us in clipped tones. Later on, I learned that she used to be a division chief.
When we arrived at the capitol of the province, we had the good fortune of immediately being met by the governor. Family connections and friendships afforded us the audience with the busy official. She was dressed in a nice burgundy lace blouse, black slacks, and black pumps. She looked and smelled nice when she greeted us. She went on and on and on about her rift with the relevant government agency. We just listened. Grapevine has it that the provincial head of this government agency had to leave because she did not comply when the governor asked her to sign a certification that there indeed was no illegal logging in the province. I do not know how true. We just listened.
When it was our turn to speak and give input, we were cut off, talked down, or talked over. I was impressed at how our lead consultant maintained her cool, eloquence, and wit despite being barraged by nonstop talking. As I was spectator to the exchange that was not really an exchange, I was amused and appalled at the same time. The constant flow of words was not even matched by eye contact. The governor ranted on as she picked out something from her classy designer bag and checked one of her mobile gadgets.
In the meantime, the province continues to languish in hardship. An ousted president and his son each gives a half million pesos to the province. The coterie of advisers talks about infrastructure, infrastructure, and infrastructure as part of the disaster risk reduction. Never mind that there are no trees to speak of or relevant environmental programs in place or that trash greets visitors upon arrival in the capital. If only we stop and listen with our ears, eyes, and heart, then we will be sensitive to what truly needs to be addressed. When we listen, a certain healing takes place. When we truly listen, life becomes music to be enjoyed and celebrated. It does not become talk.