One wonders how Jose Rizal found time to write hundreds of letters, all purposeful and exquisitely written in elegant script, with barely any mistakes. Paper, ink, and writing instruments were not cheap in those days and money from home came in spurts, depending on world market prices of sugar and the avarice of friar landlords. I wonder if the innovative Rizal devised a writing kit that he could carry around wherever he went like we do with laptops and iPads.
He wrote to his parents and communicated regularly with his older brother Paciano, his doting sisters, nephews, ex-classmates, fellow propagandists, and Indios Bravos. He kept in touch with ex-teachers and complained to government officials in the Philippines and Spain for various reasons.
Ferdinand Blumentritt, the Austro-Hungarian professor was his tireless pen pal. He wrote to other scientists in Europe and sent them specimens of Philippine butterflies and insects. Jesuit Fr. Pastells and he carried on a profound and rather heated philosophical debate by mail. In his letter to the Twenty Women of Malolos, he regretted not hearing about them before he configured Maria Clara, the tragic heroine of Noli Me Tangere. . That letter which contains his appreciation of women and their role in raising future citizens is now a sacred test for feminist movements.
Rizal’s energetic letter-writing now seems like a deliberate attempt to leave an autobiography of his thoughts, insights, convictions, his blueprint for a Filipino nation As a meaningful celebration of his 150th birthday let us stop building senseless shrines and monuments and honor him by reading what he wrote and learning all those lessons by heart.