ONE of the most interesting debates a professor can propose to his students in class is to ask what are the things that define a Filipino. It is almost impossible to reach an agreement. If one student proposes, “Pancit, there is no one in the archipelago that does not eat it,” her classmate will say, “Yes, but that’s not Filipino; it’s Chinese.” If another person says, “loyalty to your parents,” the upper-middle-class millennial will say, “You know, I do love my parents, but quite often, I do the opposite of what they want.” One day, the group almost reached an agreement. One of the students claimed that Catholicism is something that is inside every Filipino. One second later, two students claimed they were not Catholics, but that they practiced other forms of Christianity. At that point, I suggested, “In terms of religiosity, the Philippines is a country of believers, ‘di ba (isn’t it)?” The class seemed to agree with this until the shy guy in the corner said, “I disagree, sir. I do respect all religions, but I am an agnostic.” If the discussion moved to personality traits, I would try to challenge them: if they answered, “We are a country of cheerful people,” I would reply, “Don’t you know people who are depressed?” Needless to say, personal exceptions occur in every nation, and I was just trying to stimulate critical thinking among the audience in order that they avoided easy answers.

Discussions about what is truly Filipino abound, and I have to confess that if I had to leave this country after six months, I would have understood very little. As I have argued elsewhere, this nation is so humanly diverse that it really takes time to understand the diversity and its roots. The social complexity of the Philippines necessarily avoids easy definitions and simple answers.