The Chronicles Of A Stubborn Filipina

She was 8. I met her while I was teaching 20 or so kids dance for an audition. We had no space and danced on the street. Streetdance literally on the streets.

A posse came and invited me to a “dance-off”. Teens, pre-teens..dark from the sun and had the stench of what I can only describe as poverty. There were around 10 of them. Bigger than me.

“Ano?Takot ka Ate?” (What?Are you scared,Big Sister?)

I didn’t know them and my dance students started “protecting” me the only way they know in the streets. Shout and push and start a fight. If I say no, I will never hear the end of it. All respect gone and the kids I teach will be bullied for a long time. Rule of the streets.

“Hindi,ha.” (No.) I say. “Sayaw tayo.” (Let’s dance)

Deep inside,I was saying to myself “Dear God,you’re 33. What the heck are you doing?” 

They pull out their “pambato” (representative). It was an 8 yr. old. wearing a red spaghetti top and red YMCA short. She was filthy,sweaty, had lines of dirt on her neck and armpits and had this angry look on her face. Her name was Candy Jane. She was the Pasig river dance talent champion they said. “Okay…she’s my daughter’s age.” I thought. I cringed.

“OOoohh…” I hear the growing crowd loudly jeer. I think there were a hundred now. They were watching us and my kids shoving and saying “Huwag niyong awayin si Ate Zarah!” (Don’t fight, Ate Zarah!”) My kids were smaller and I just said “Hindi. Sasayaw lang kami.” and I smile but my heart was beating fast. The big kids were pushing me hard.

“Space naman.” (We need space) I say. I still smile. And the music played. 

We danced. Poppin’ and lockin’ and sliding and turning. Challenging each other. All I remember was the crowd closing in and pushing you as it was your turn to dance. And the jeering and cheering as we danced. By this time,the crowd was thick and I felt like a fight was going to ensue if we didn’t stop. My kids,screaming “Huwag!” (No!) and the teens shouting “Wala! wala! boo!” (that’s nothing!boo!)

Then she jumps four feet and lands on a split on the gravel floor! Then she does it again!

“Huwag! baka mabali-an ka!” (Don’t! You’ll break something!”) My mother’s instincts came out and I was scared for her. The crowd just cheered her on. She does it again and it seemed like a freak show with people jeering at her. I felt sorry. 

I danced and did a cartwheel and ended with a round off and everyone cheered. “Ang galing mo.” (You’re good) I say to Candy Jane. “Salamat at naka sayaw tayo.” (Thank you and we got to dance).

I thank the older kids and I give Candy Jane a hug. “Alam ko. Ako pinaka magaling dito” (I know. I’m the best here) and smiles meekly. I don’t think she’s ever had a hug. i don’t know the last time she took a shower.

I went home after that. I sent Candy Jane a red hip hop jacket with white stripes the next time I went to the site.

Today I found out that the energetic,talented little girl died of Dengue this week. My heart aches. You will always be a dance champ, Candy Jane. Keep dancing in heaven.

* Footages of my kids dancing are on this video: http://stubbornfilipina.com/post/8068124529

My camera man stopped shooting when the dance off started. He was courting me that time and I think we was either amazed at the crazy girl he was with or preparing to protect me from the throng of people.

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.

A Short Story Of The Filipina In Poverty (Part 3 of 3)

 Turning Points

Change only comes to people who desire it. We Filipinos have a saying “Kung gusto,hahanapan ng paraan. Kung ayaw,maraming dahilan” (If you want to do something,you find a way. If you don’t want to do it,you find reasons not to.) Some people are internally motivated to change themselves but for most, sometimes they need a turning point.  This could sometimes manifest through a bad experience or a good one if they are lucky. Juana has had a lot of turning points. As a matter of fact, a lot of good ones given that so many people have offered to help her. If I were to assess, she’s one lucky person. Sometimes I wonder if some people need a bad experience to want to change.

 For a month, Juana and I just kept in touch through calls and messages. I was busy with work but we would both update each other about what was going on with each other’s lives. I do visit the site often for work but the entire community is 108 hectares and she lives at the edge while our office is at the other side.  Sometimes, it can be too much effort to visit her especially since most of the time I go home disappointed, heartbroken even.

 One of those visits,I had a meeting with the priest who stays at the area and he ends our conversation with “I’m so disappointed with Juana.” He had a grim look on his face and I knew it wasn’t good.

“What happened?” I ask

“She called me to her home yesterday..to bless the body of her youngest child.” He continues. “Remember him? He was a year and half.”

Of course I remember him, his smile, the innocent cute face, the cute little hoodie as he rode in our van. Yes, I remember him and I even have pictures on him somewhere in my iPod.

“What happened?” I ask again. The priest just seemed distraught. “I had to stop myself from throwing up while blessing the body. The smell was just too much. He was rotting fast.” I was waiting for him to finish but I had to ask for the third time “What happened? He seemed okay a month ago.” I wanted to cry. He was so cute.

“Worms. He had tapeworms. He was too small and malnourished. The worms came out of his ears, nose and mouth to search for food. The doctor said they got 42 of them”

He choked on them. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to react. I was crushed and at the same time angry. I felt helpless and useless.

“Why didn’t she ask for your help? Why didn’t she call me? His stomach didn’t even seem distended the last time I saw him!”

 It would have just taken a deworming session, a doctor’s check up. It wouldn’t even cost much. Then I remember her little baby crawling on the dirt- ridden ground, sleeping with the dog, walking barefoot and naked. All her kids were enrolled in the feeding program, why wasn’t he? There were 9 kids plus her grand child. I could imagine how she could have not noticed. When you’re a mother, you know babies are totally helpless. You leave them for a few seconds, they could bump their head. If their fever gets too high, they convulse. When they start throwing up,they get dehydrated after doing this a handful of times. Juana knew she neglected him. She knew she did something wrong. Then I knew why she didn’t call on us for help. Shame and pride. The poor child didn’t even have a birth certificate yet and he dies.

 I just felt angry. Angry at Juana for letting it happen and angry at myself for not having done anything. The child would have been easy to save. It would not have taken much,if only I knew. Then the priest broke my silence “Don’t worry,she has a replacement already.” He says. I don’t know if it was a joke. What did he mean by a replacement?

 “ Buntis na naman si Juana.” (Juana’s pregnant again) I knew he wouldn’t joke about something like that.

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A Short Story Of The Filipina In Poverty (Part 2 of 3)

A Herd Of Pigs and A Doormat

 They say when you save a life they are in debt to you for the rest of their lives. This wasn’t so between Juana and me. Nothing changed but the fact that she was actually more open to some things. She would often ask how she could repay me for the money spent on her husband’s hospitalization but the fact that he was alive and she was open was big enough of a deal for me already. Her being open was enough. Years of leftist indoctrination is hard to break. Her husband had to stop working and I guess he realized that he needed to be with his family and have a decent job. He did after all, almost die. He gave me his resume. He had all his accomplishments on a crumpled piece of paper and a tattered picture of himself working on a piece of machinery. He too had a life before all this. Before all the children and having been dumped in the middle of a God-forsaken place and before poverty had left them angry and paralyzed. I wanted to cry when I received it and made sure that people would call on him for a job.

You’re probably thinking, “She needs a job! She needs livelihood!”. Yes,those words screamed at me everytime I would visit. I was lucky enough to have a benefactor willing to fund whatever was needed for initial capitalization of any livelihood program she and her community wanted. A generous woman with a big heart. We would all meet discussing the things possible and what they would love to do. “Finally,we’re getting somewhere.” I thought.

 “Gusto namin mag alaga ng baboy.” (We want to breed pigs.) they say. “Figurines!” another pipes in. “Doormats. We can do it at our houses!” One suggests.

 I wanted to clap my hands. I was as excited as they were. “Yes,we can do all of that.” I say. “We need to do something while the pigs are growing. Juana can lead the pig breeding. Sigurado magaling ka diyan,ang dami mo nang anak!” (I’m sure you’ll be good at it,you have so many children!) We all laugh. True enough her kids are all over the house. One would be washing, two cooking or gathering wood, two listening to us,another three running outside and the youngest at a year and a half usually crawling naked on the floor. It’s really hard to keep track. One time,the youngest would poop on the floor and here comes the dog eating up the poop right behind him. They were just so many of them.

 Juana started planning the projects and did assignments. A piggery and creating doormats was the livelihood of choice. She was actually very intelligent and would make a good businesswoman. She would report to me,what was needed and I would source out. We had funding but needed people to train them and of course purchase their products. I did find everything they needed,. I found trainers for both businesses to a company that would buy their pigs, a store to buy their mats. I brought people in to measure for construction for the work areas. I even brought them to a day long field trip to other communities who have succeeded doing the same. It was the first time their kids ever got out of the relocation site or rode a bus.

Everyday,I would thank God that something was happening and we were blessed. Everyone was excited. There was something different whenever I would meet with them,they would laugh and crack jokes but most of all they had hope. Juana too seemed to have softened and I saw that she was a strong leader. They seemed beholden to her,she took care of them all these years.

 Construction was to start and I brought fifty thousand pesos to fund the work areas to prepare for pigs. I was happy and again we went to Juana’s tiny house to meet. I brought lechon manok (roast chicken) for our lunch. For them,chicken is usually eaten when celebrating birthdays and special occasions and the kids were happy. Juana assembled everyone in a circle and I told them “May pera na tayo para ipagawa ang piggery at ang work area at pupunta na ang trainers bukas! Yay!” (We have money to construct the piggery and work area and the trainers will be here tomorrow!) I say. They all smile and excitedly say “Salamat sa Diyos,may pag-asa na tayo!” (Thank God,we now have something to hope for!) We ate and shared stories and after having lunch we talk business.

 Juana was very serious. She brought out a notebook and made a recap of everything we had discussed and everything that has been done. I was impressed then suddenly she says “Parang hindi naming kayang magpa laki ng baboy. Ayaw kasi namin na gumawa ng bagay na baka sa matagalan,hindi namin magawa.” (I don’t think we can grow pigs. We don’t want to start something we can’t do) She started. “Hindi rin namin pwede kalimutan ang ipinaglalaban namin. Kung may pera na kami,paano na lang iyon? ” (We also can’t forget the things we are fighting for. If we have money,what will happen to that?) She continues. I saw the faces of her community members and they looked stunned but kept their silence. I kept quiet and kept a straight face but deep inside I was crushed.

 “Naiintindihan ko pero kung akala niyo na hindi niyo kaya,alam ko at naniniwala ako na kaya niyo. Hindi ko pakikialaman ang ipinaglalaban niyo. Laban niyo yan. Pagkakaibigan lang ang handog ko at taos pusong tulong. Kung ano man ang ipinaglalaban niyo,sana isipin niyo na lang ang mga anak ninyo. Laban niyo yan at hindi sa kanila.” (I understand but if you think you can’t do it,I think you can and I believe in you. I will not bother with whatever it is you are fighting for. I only offer friendship and sincere help. Whatever it is you are fighting for,I hope you think of your children. That is your fight and not theirs.)

The rest were quiet. They don’t dare say anything to contradict Juana. I just continue talking about things as if the meeting never happened but left with a broken heart. On the two hour trip back to Manila,the words “Hindi rin namin pwede kalimutan ang ipinaglalaban namin. Kung may pera na kami,paano na lang iyon? ” (We also can’t forget the things we are fighting for. If we have money,what will happen to that?) kept repeating in my head.

 Juana’s leadership was defined by the fight,by anger and defined by a cause that she herself cannot explain anymore. Have you ever tried obsessing so much over something and thinking about it so much that you have forgotten why you were thinking about it in the first place? That is Juana’s state of mind and she dragged everyone down with her.

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