Three men and Christmas
This is my first Christmas season fatherless. In his last years Pom and I tried our best to spend Christmas with Papa, even though it meant we have to spend our wedding anniversary on the road to my home province Isabela.
There were Christmases when I was a younger I spent in some far-flung communities with peasants and fellow activists. Those were very memorable and life-changing experiences. It made me value Christmas—more precisely, its commercialism—less but its spirit more. It even made me value the day itself less and the day after more, if you know what I mean.
Christmas is due in a week. I miss my father the most and, in the inevitable hustle and bustle of Christmas preparations, he is foremost in my mind as the day approaches. I remember with profound sadness his smiles when he our gifts to him last Christmas. He was so brave to be happy when he was so weak and he tired easily.
I am still welcoming Christmas. But I know this one will be different. Someone I dearly loved is gone, replaced by good memories, a lump in my throat and a heavy heart.
= = = =
I joined a long queue at a cash machine in Fairview the other day. Before it was my turn there must have been a dozen hopefuls like me checking if we have some pesos in our name. Some left clasping crisp hundred peso bills while some turned away with nothing on their hands.
One old man quietly sat 10 feet away from the line. He was dressed in rags and it was obvious that his possessions were not inside the paper-spewing machine but inside a yellow plastic bag beside him labeled “SM”. He did not hold his hand out, like other beggars. He just looked at the people lining up for their turn for some Yuletide cheer.
My fellow hopefuls tried their best to ignore him. I counted the people who were turned the other way or, if they were resolutely looking front-wards, were trying hard to avoid his eyes. I could not. I could not help but compare him to Papa. The beggar was about the same age when Papa died. He was as thin. He was as quiet.
Whether to give alms to beggars (old or young) is always a dilemma for me. But it is Christmas. This time my decision came swift and purposeful. I gave him money, despite the fact that my last salary has not yet been deposited.
And he gave me that smile I last saw last Christmas from my father. It would be as good as any gift I’d receive this Christmas.
= = = = =
Yesterday, PISTON asked Kodao to shoot and produce a short video of Ka Roda, its chairperson emeritus, to be shown at the benefit concert to help him with medical bills. We are swamped with work ourselves and it was supposed to be May Day Productions’ job to do it. But MDP could not be contacted and we simply could not say no.
Risa Jopson and I drove to Ka Roda’s home sometime after lunch. But he wasn’t there. Instead, his neighbors pointed to a room across the street and told us “Andyan po siya.” Sure enough, Ka Roda was there. He was lying on top of pool table converted into a hospital bed. The only chair available was a barber’s chair parked beside his bed. There were two hand rails over him to help him shift positions. A leg, ravaged by diabetes, was tied to a nylon rope which he could only move by pulling on the rope. An adult diaper is wedged between his behind and the bed sheets. His hair has turned all white. His stroke-impaired speech could hardly be understood. Yet, he still had the naughty Ka Roda grin, albeit now toothless.
It was a short and efficient shoot. Our subject was still sharp and ever militant. He punctuated his main points by raising a clenched left fist. To his comrades and friends, he had these to say:
Magandang gabi po sa inyong lahat, mga Kasama.
Akin po kayong binabati sa…mula nang…mula nang tayo ay nakipaglaban—panahon pa ni Marcos ay nilabanan na natin ang mga patakaran ng gubyerno, anumang klaseng gubyerno—na nagpapahirap sa taumbayan, atin pong nilalabanan yan.
Kaya hanggang sa ngayon po, e kahit nagkapili-pilipit na ang ating dila, lumalaban pa rin tayo, mga Kasama.
Kaya sa sandali pong ito, kumbaga, lahat po kayong mga Kasama na dumalo at pumunta rito sa konsiyertong ito—para daw sa akin ito, sabi sa akin ng mga Kasama—ay binabati ko kayo sa panahon na ito, sa oras na ito.
Kaya ako po ay nagpapasalamat. Sino man sa inyo ang naririto, at ang darating pa rito, akin pong pinasasalamatan sa inyong pagdalo.
Ako po ay nalulungkot dahil sa talagang…anuman ang gawin ko, gusto ko mang sumama sa mga, magkaroon ng discussion sa gubyerno, o kanino mang dapat kausapin, ay wala, wala. Pero andiyan po ang aking kalooban. At sana sana
Ako po ay buong-pusong nagpapasalamat dahil sa mga Kasama na, kahit papano, ako ay hindi pa rin nakakalimutan nila. Hindi nila ako itinatabi…parang nawala sa sirkulasyon. Kaya po ako, sa mga Kasama, huwag po kayong panghinaan! Darating po ang panahon—anumang haba niyan—ay talagang magtatagumpay tayo dahil tayo po ang pinakapangunahing sektor sa ating lipunan (na) sugod sa pakikibaka’t pakikipaglaban sa anumang kalagayan ng lipunan na ito. Sisiguraduhin po natin na ang transport ang mangunguna sa anumang pagkilos dahil siya po ang buod ng sektor ng lipunan, wala pong iba kundi ang transportasyon.
Makabuluhang Pasko po sa inyong lahat!
Comments