The place where I grew up, we found out without a tinge of surprise, was no Noynoy country. It was, in fact, green, ostentatiously so.
There, LP candidates were said to have yet to lay their hands on campaign materials that have anything to do with the national contest. There was no LP coordinator. To top it all, local kingpins were strongly allied with the ruling coalition, giving the color yellow very little room from which to spring forth.
So strong was the Lakas presence at the town plaza that it overpowered the humble monuments of both Rizal and Bonifacio. Noynoy was, of course, nowhere to be seen.
But we came prepared. From the city, we brought posters and stickers from a Noynoy volunteer and a few tarpaulins which we made from our own computers and which we had printed using our meager personal funds.
Our little yellow band—yes, we all wore yellow shirts on our first day—made the rounds of relatives' homes, putting up tarps on their gates with matching yellow ribbons.
Our house must have been the "yellowest" in town for there were people, some even strangers, who came to us asking for Noynoy campaign paraphernalia. They honestly thought we were official LP coordinators. Relatives called in behalf of friends who wanted tarps and ribbons to proudly display in their homes. We were on a roll.
As our resources were limited, we were soon running out of posters and tarps. So we resorted to yellow ribbons. We were actually afraid that townsfolk might not associate them with Noynoy but our fears were, it turned out, unfounded. On one of our nightly tie-a-yellow-ribbon efforts, a small group of women approached us, wanting to know if the ribbons were for Noynoy. We gave them some but they would also like to have their own posters! Another night, one store owner asked for a ribbon. When we offered him a poster, he refused. He was for Noynoy, he explained but he was being quiet about it. We got the message.
Just as we gave away the last tarp, a thousand posters arrived in perfect timing, courtesy of elderly kababayans who were also acquainted with our Noynoy volunteer from the city. And so we bundled them in fives and distributed them to family, friends, even strangers. The others we posted on posts and bus stops along major thoroughfares, never mind if those materials were not the all-weather kind.
Before we left for Manila, we drove around town and confirmed what we'd been hearing all throughout our stay. A great number of residents were yellow-at-heart. But many of them did not possess the inclination to mess with the powers that be. Some pretended to be green. Most pretended to be neutral. While there were some who openly declared their yellowness, proudly hanging Noynoy's banners in their abodes, including their source of livelihood.
Our hometown, when we left, was not exactly as yellow as we wanted it to be. Yet we went back to our daily lives filled with fresh hopes, knowing somehow that a silent majority will show its true color come May, come what may.
It was a good time for Indie to go around the UP academic oval in her motorized bike. Sun was setting. The summer heat was just dissipating.
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