Starstruck with a 'criminal'

I am preparing to hit some assholes hard so I needed a lawyer.  The only human rights slash labor lawyer who has time to immediately give me pro bono services at the moment texted me to say he was to be at Branch 100 of the Quezon City Regional Trial Court at eight this morning.

            So, I was there and, familiar with the look and feel of a courtroom, immediately proceeded to where lawyers sit: up front.  After announcing my presence to Atty Greg Fabros I turned around to look for a place to park my bum.  Then I saw him in his

ubiquitous orange t-shirt emblazoned with the popular “Free all political prisoners!” slogan.

            Just last week, I read about him (http://services.inquirer.net/express/07/08/21/html_output/xmlhtml/20070815-82834-xml.html).  Idol ko talaga itong taong ito.  I also know persons close to him—just don’t ask who and how. 

            I waited to catch his eyes and flashed my warmest smile at him.  Now, I don’t fault anyone who might think I look like some donut-stuffed police officer and I certainly won’t blame Serrano if he gives me a dirty look in return instead.  But he smiled back and, with the gorgeous beard he’s now wearing, looked like a benevolent Moses.

            When the presiding judge was too busy to notice some private conversation going on, I slipped a paper to him introducing myself.  After reading it he reached over and give me such a strong handshake it nearly uprooted my right arm from its socket and crushed my finger bones while at it.  Then he passed the paper to some peasant-looking couple across the aisle (who were probably there to make sure he was not being harmed by his armed custodians).  All the while the PNP “escort” was eyeing us like a hawk—but I couldn’t care less. 

            When he was about to be carted off again to his jail cell at Camp Crame (yes, nasa Crame na siya), I slipped another piece of paper introducing Ka Greg to him.  Afterwards, he approached Ka Greg and shook his hand.

            After giving me another earth-shaking handshake, he was off.

            Also noteworthy about my morning was the privilege to see Atty Pura Calleja in action in defense of Serrano.  By the looks of it, she was able to totally convince the judge about the need to first rule on the defense’s petition to consolidate the dozens of murder charges against Serrano to that of rebellion.  (Judging by how even his enemies respect Serrano a lot, who would believe but the malicious he is a mass murderer?  See article again.) All the while, the public prosecutor just sat there bemused-looking.  He was benefiting from the impromptu lecturing Atty Calleja was giving everyone with her performance.

            Anyway, my point really is, I was so pleasantly surprised to meet a man that I never thought would see personally.  To this government he is a criminal.  To the people of Southern Tagalog he is a folk hero—their hero.  The former is like the Sheriff of Nottingham.  The latter is, I think, much greater than Robin Hood ever was.

Who wouldn’t be star-struck?