The Chronicles Of A Stubborn Filipina

DISTURBING BREAKFAST

9:30 in the morning. I decided to have coffee and work at Pancake House. Armed with my laptop and a notebook,I hie off and sat comfortably at the tables outside with the umbrellas. It wasn’t raining, the wind was blowing and I’m glad I could have this opportunity to write outdoors. I hear a mumble from a man two tables away. A poor man. He was of medium built but skinny. He sat silently except he mumbles once in a while with a soft voice. Of course, my initial reaction was to be scared but continue on with my earphones,turn on the laptop and start working.

I had to go to the restroom and when I came, I saw the man at my table reading the menu. “I wonder why they haven’t shooed him off.” I thought. They usually do. It scares off the customers. I know I was a bit thrown off. I sit on my table and the man says “Sorry,Ma’am..” and returns to his table.

I finally hear what he was mumbling as someone passes by “Ma’am/Sir,pang pagkain lang po.” (Ma’m/Sir,money for food..) So he wasn’t a crazy person. He was a beggar. I look at him closely this time. He had on red shorts with a yellow lightning on the pocket. Sort of like the comic book character “Flash”. He has on a light brown long sleeved shirt. Clean was a word I could describe him. Then I notice the eyes. There was something different about his eyes. He was blind on the right eye. On his left,there were also white spots. I call the waitress and order him some food. “Ay,huwag po. Mahal dito.” (Ay,no. It’s expensive here) He says. “Huwag mo na isipin yun. Okay lang,na order ko na.” (Don’t think about it. It’s okay, I already ordered it). I say. I go back to work but something compelled me to ask “Saan ka umuuwi?” (Where’s your home?)

“Dito lang po. Sa lansangan. Nakikitulog lang sa gilid. Sana makaka-uwi nga ako.” (Here in the streets. I just sleep at the sidewalk) That’s strange. He didn’t look impoverished. Not like the ones I see on the streets. Except for his begging,that is. “Taga saan ka ba?” (Where are you from?)

“Northern Samar,po.”

“Dito ka na kumain.” (Eat over here.) I say as his food arrives and signal him to move to my table. I don’t know why I just felt I wanted know more about him. He moves to my table and I ask “Ano trabaho mo?” (What’s your job?) He seemed healthy enough to work. “Wala na po akong mapapasukan. Bulag po kasi ako sa isang mata at pa bulag na rin po ang kabila.” (I can’t work anymore. I have one blind eye and the other eye will be blind soon too.) Poor guy. I ask him some more questions. I think I’m just curious about people that way.

MARK CASTILLO

His name was Mark Castillo. He has been in Manila for 16 years. When he was 14,a recruiter went to their barrio in Gamay,Northern Samar. They were brought to Manila via boat and were placed to work at a factory for toyo (soy sauce) and sardines in Navotas. They work for food and was asked to work 19 hours a day with the threat of being beaten up if they don’t work. “Gwardya po amo namin,hindi po bisor. Tatlong beses po ako sumubok tumakas at bibubogbog po talaga kami. Hinahampas kami ng baril at tubo. Pinakawalan lang ako noong nagsimula na rin mabulag ang kabilang mata ko.” (Our boss was a security guard and not a supervisor. I tried escaping three times and we really get beaten up. They hit us with a steel pipe and guns. They let go of me when my left eye started getting blind too)

I have heard of stories like these from people from the province. There are recruiters who bring them to Manila to do factory work, prostitution or for criminal syndicates. I just listened and was trying ask the right questions to see if he was lying. I have seen and heard everything in my line of work and he looked better dressed than most at the slums. Apparently, the security guards give him old clothes so that he doesn’t look like a bum and they don’t have to force him out of the area. He takes a bath everyday, when the landscapers hose off the mall landscaping at 5 in the morning. He asks them to hose them off. “Hmm..how smart.” I never thought of that before. What caught me was that why were all these people helping him when they could easily get into trouble for doing so?

Mark worked at a sidewalk canteen in Makati (a.k.a. Jollijeep) after the factory. He stayed there for another 5 yrs and lived inside the canteen when it wasn’t operational. Eventually it closed and he has been doing odd jobs to earn money since- sell cigarettes, clean cars and beg. He has been working at the Makati area for 8 years,usually near the mall.

“Kuya, mabait ba to?” (Is he a good guy?) I ask the security guard at the coffee shop besides where we were. He laughs and said “Kawawa yan,ma’am. Matulungin pero bulag nga. Nag a-apply sa lahat kahit construction pero baka daw maka basag. Matagal na yan dito. Gusto nga namin tulungan pero wala rin kaming pera.” (He’s a helpful man but blind. We feel sorry for him. We’ve always wanted to help him but we don’t have the money), The waiters and the manager of the restaurant tell me that he helps them clear tables even if they don’t ask him to.

“ Ambisyon ko lang kahit noong bata ako ay maayos lang mata ko. Pag kumita ako,pumupunta ako sa doctor. Dalawang doctor na nagsabi sa akin na wala nang pag asa mata ko.” (As a child,my ambition was to have my eye treated. I go to the doctor with the money I earn. Two doctors have already told me that there’s no hope for my eye) His blindness is congenital. His mother had measles when she gave birth to him. His eyesight on the other eye deteriorated eventually too. “Kailangan daw ng surgery at pera but hindi pa rin makakita. Maagapan lang and isang mata. Gusto ko lang umuwi sa lola ko bago ako maging tuluyang bulag.”. (It needs surgery and money. It would still be blind but they can prevent the other from going blind. I just want to go home to my grandmother before I become totally blind.) Surgery. He says this word well. I notice he injected 2 other English words as well “think” and “consider”.

“Nag aral ka ba? Magaling ka mag English,ha.” (Did you study? You speak good English) He smiles while finishing off his meal. “Salamat sa Powerbooks at National Bookstore. Grade 4 lang natapos ko pero natuto ako mag sulat at magbasa. Libre po kasi magbasa doon hanggang mag sara basta maayos lang itsura” (Thank you to Powerbooks and National Bookstore. They allow you to read until they close as long as you look decent.) That hit me. When times were hard for me, I too took refuge at the bookstore wherein entertaining yourself and reading with my child was free.

“Paano ba umuwi sa inyo? Mahal ba?” (How does one go home to your province? Is it expensive?)

“Sasakay ka ng bus sa Philtranco tapos ferry, jeep,tricycle at kalabaw (carabao) ng dalawang oras papunta sa bahay. Bundok po kasi sa amin. Kung makaka-uwi ako,ipagsisigaw ko sa mga tao na hindi lahat ng lumuwas sa Maynila ay nagtagumpay. Na masaya ang buhay sa probinsya kung saan hindi kami nagugutom.” (You ride a bus at Philtranco then a ferry, jeep,tricycle, and a carabao for two hours. Our home is in the mountains. If I get to go home,I will tell everyone that not everyone who goes to Manila is successful. Life in the province is happy,we don’t go hungry.)

THINGS TO BRING HOME

The bus ride takes two nights and three days. I think the rest of the travel time would take another day or two. “Tulungan kita umuwi.” (I’ll help you go home.) I say. I don’t really have the habit of adopting people out of whim and it was very out of character for me but again,I just felt compelled to help this blind man. “Magkita tayo mamayang alas dose dito. Kailangan ko na bumalik,eh.” (I’ll see you later at twelve noon. I have to go back to the office.). I walked back to work and suddenly felt emotional. My first thought was that “If I don’t help this person now, I just might not have a chance to help him. Life is too short. If I don’t help him,it will bother me.” I got to my work area and I start sobbing. I don’t know why. Then I start calling people to help.

I meet up with Mark at twelve noon. He was seated on a plantbox and I tell him that we should buy food for travel before we head to the bus terminal. On the way to the supermarket he hugs every guard and the service crew of the establishments at the area “Uuwi na ako. Narining panalangin ko.” (I’m going home. God heard my prayers.) He hugs and cries at the same time. He walks alongside me as I grab a grocery basket and fills it with bread,spread,water,biscuits. a towel & hygiene products. I guess this would be good enough. I purchase that and one of those recyclable bags the grocery sells at the check out counter. The whole time he would argue and say I shouldn’t and that he would be okay.

I wonder how I can contact him when he mentioned that mail doesn’t get to his house at the mountains? I call up friends and they tell me the available signal at the area would be SMART 2G. I get him one of those P500 Cherry Mobile phones and a Sim Card and teach him how to call me. It only has battery for a day so I told him to keep it turned off until he reaches Samar. And told him that the only thing I want in return is that he gives me a call when he reaches Samar. He said he planned to write down everything he has been to before he totally loses his eyesight. So I got a notebook and a pen for him to write on.

“Ma’am,ano po ang pinakamagandang katangian ng tao para sa inyo?” (Ma’am, for you, what is the most beautiful quality of a person?”) He suddenly asks.

“Pagmamahal.” (Love.) I answer. “Pagmamahal sa kapwa tao at hindi lang sa sarili at pamilya. Pagmamahal na walang sukat para sa ibang tao“ (Love for others and not just oneself and for family. Unconditional love for people.) That was the only answer I could give him. Nothing new or profound.

HOME IS WHERE WE SHOULD BE

I was lucky to have two people to accompany me to go to the bus terminal. This was for my safety and of course to help us. You could imagine their shock when they found out who he was and what I was planning to do. Still,they go with me. God bless their kind hearts. Off we went to the bus terminal in Pasay. We had to ask around since we didn’t know where it was. Mark had no idea either but in his mind,he has imagined his route home. I’m glad I got him the phone. I can ask friends to check on him and I’m glad I have friends who are willing to check on him at the bus stops and can do that. We buy Mark his ticket and I give him a send off gift. A small amount of money for the rest of the fare he would need as well as enough for food. Just enough to get him home. By this time,he was sobbing uncontrollably and just kept saying thank you. “Para kang si Shalani,tumutulong sa mga tao.” (You’re like Shalani,she helps people.) I laugh “Nabasa ko sa magazine sa National Bookstore.” (I read that in a magazine at National Bookstore.) I laugh again but I knew he was serious. He heads inside the bus and the guys with me checked on him while he settled down and we waited until the bus left. I wave goodbye to Mark Castillo who just wanted to go home.

I’m from the province too. A “syano” (One who is from the province/probinsya) Working in Manila is not as easy as it seems for people who live independently. It has never been easy,not even for me. I have been lucky and undeniably a lot of hard work. In the Metro Manila slums,60% come from various provinces in the country. Most of them regret having moved to Manila for greener pastures. Over here,having no money would mean hunger and scavenging garbage bins. In the province, having money would mean eating vegetables planted outside your home, fish or shellfish from the sea and corn from the backyard. Neighbors barter with you for better fare and worse comes to worst, you have family to help you. You are not alone.

The government has their “Balik Probinsya” efforts but still the notion of having more money here prevails. All the hype blind them and people who go around provinces spreading this hype through recruiters blind them. The worst are those who go home to the province and only tell their family and friends the good things about living at the National Capital Region. They don’t tell stories of hardships ,pain and loneliness. They don’t plan to be like Mark who would go home and just tell people that life is better where they are. They too are blinded..by pride. It’s difficult to admit ones’ failures. They are even blinder than Mark.

Mark’s story is not any different from the number of stories we read on the papers about our OFW’s. Home is where your heart is, home is where we should be.