Vol. 1, No. 1
September 08, 2004

Back here in my home province of Leyte. Here too, I snicker, is this usual glaring novelty that meets any balik-probinsiya citizen of our republic nowadays, the proliferating franchise outlets: McDonald's, Jollibee, Dunkin' Donuts, Shakey's, Greenwich, Chow King, Hap Tian, Mercury Drug, Bench, Penshoppe, and smaller brands like Julie's Bakeshop. Health nutrition and consumer pricing aside, just well and good. But what's this I hear about the province's winning several tourism awards? That's ludicrous. Where, pray tell, are the tourists? What, after all, is there for a tourist to have fun with here?

Tourism is a wise developmental direction for any island without a competitive asset beyond copra. Because tourism is often designed, only rarely nurtured from the readily existent. But tourism in Leyte has been relatively dead and non-existent for a long time. This industry has long been established in some provinces and exploited towards becoming a start-up but province-wide industry in some others (e.g., Bohol). Nowhere is this thrust seen or even heard about in Leyte. It's still a province seemingly devoid of revolutions and "revolutionaries", seemingly content with its dogshit-laden subdivisions and government-employed professional elite.

Tacloban City and the nearby towns all have a potential for tourism, as is any place on earth for that matter. A tall order? The city and province only have to decide to establish it. The real question is, is there a persona in Leyte's governments interested in putting up such an industry? Seemingly nil.

Who stands to profit from a tourist influx? Believe it or not, everybody. The binagol makers, the jeepney drivers, even the names of politicians who wouldn't mind sudden national fame. Certainly the local artists and artisans. The local bands. The restaurants. And tourism often becomes a mother for the birthing of new ideas. Even hitherto impossible dreams like a music festival could now become practicable, if not necessary. It's about time such ideas begin to replace Sinulog-like parades that cannot sustain a liveliness beyond the parade hours. The people, ultimately and as a whole, stands to gain from this industry. And not just because some residences would want to turn themselves into little subdivision hostels. More firmly because a tourist industry necessarily entrenches an improved culture. Instead of forever complaining about the abundant dogshit, for example, that has become the new symbol of the Waray, everybody will profit from new city or provincial enforcements of ordinances. And the inspiration for that new unwavering political will? Sheer profits from the new industry, profits which cannot be underestimated, considering that tourism often turns out to be a mother for other industries.

There seems to be a lack of imagination even among the people tasked to promote the province, whether it's the regional tourism department or the provincial tourism board, if there's even one. But it would be understandable should the usual retort come in: "there's no money for that". The usual, after all, is what nurtures our seeming secret masochistic desire for stagnation. Nobody seems to have the courage to stand up to his peers and say, "it doesn't really require any extra government money". For all one has to do indeed is design a direction, come up with specific plans, and then finally meet with everyone: businessmen, mayors, barangay officers, local esthetes, and finally the people. Sure, an unselfish committee might have to be formed, but hopefully pro-bono.

Unselfish, I say, because we must avoid such complaints as that aired by a Borongan citizen who told us of a refusal by a local tourism department to refer a few tourists to the new adventure facilities of Borongan. The local tourism department referred the tourists, he said, to such cliched, unexciting spots as Leyte Park Hotel and some other boring resort in Leyte instead.

As I said, even Tacloban alone has the potential to create a booming tourist industry. But a tourist destination is not created by tiny tourist dots and tiny tourist squares or teeny-weeny pockets in a city. A tourist goes to a place for the place, not for a five-meter binagol sidewalk row mentioned in a tourist brochure, nor for a small beach resort that has nothing more exciting than available San Mig Lite. Tourists go to a place because of talk about what's to be found there, what's happening, what one can see and do. One goes to Bangkok not for the little take-one brochures at the hotel lobbies, but for the Bangkok that he's been hearing about. To create a tourist industry, therefore, one does not only collect data of what existing cultural elements can be enhanced, one might also have to design new cultures. Ultimately, one needs create a tourist-friendly culture that will henceforth create employment for many a local populace.

There is a tendency among politicians and government or art boards, however, to mistake the word "culture" for "heritage". Doing so, they thence miss the new phases and faces of our culture, the new sidewalk night barbecues, the new music, and so on. Politicians and tourist and art boards also have the tendency to Westernize anything and everything when aiming for foreigners' approval, this when they're not busy focusing their minds on the old local, the so-called "indigenous". This is a shame, because a New Yorker wouldn't want to see another row of coffeeshops here that look just like those in New York. Nor even spots that are lame imitations of those he's already seen in Bali. Oh, businessmen usually love to see bits of home in foreign places, a McDonald's or Starbucks here and there, but even foreign businesses in our cities may have to be made possible by a tourist culture and dynamic market first. Such tourist cultures are made by a localization thrust, not by acts of aping or the creation of little Amsterdams in our barrios.

The same principle holds when trying to sell local art and artists. A visiting art aficionado might be amused to see a Waray Picasso, but he would not necessarily admire the artist. Might he not rather rejoice to discover a "new voice" in these parts?

A tourism industry will have one final achievement. Ideally, it will lead us to rediscover ourselves as a people -- our contexts, our own voices, our concepts. Not the lost contexts of a monument for our World War II Boy Scout heroes surrounded by Greek pillars. Not the Angono-influenced concept of a Christian government that uses people's money (inclusive of tax payments by Moslems) for a kitschy Christian idea for a large Leyte sculptural map. Not the voices of a destructive elite that allows Tacloban's sidewalks to be used as some stores' warehouses or otherwise parking garages for the storeowners' tourist-offending luxury SUVs. When we rediscover ourselves, we will have boasted to tourists our own manners and talents and voices, and maybe then we'll start renaming some of our subdivisions (Kassel, Scandinavia, and so on) to reflect more tourist-attracting ideas, away from a culture that provides mental escape for the local who has learned to hate himself and his birthplace.

Until and unless we do something about our potential to become a tourist destination, however, we'll continue to be this sleepy, depressed island that's being further depressed by the clear and present hemorrhage of its medical personnel and other human assets. Should we content ourselves with the reputation of being nothing more than a people whose religion has always been Manila-worship, star-struck by the brilliance of faraway galaxies and its alien race? If so, then we should forthwith celebrate our decay and take full pride in our tourist-denying mediocrity.