“Pare, ano bang nagustuhan mo sa kanya?” “Hindi ko nga alam, eh.” “Maganda ‘yan, ano? Seksi?” “Mukha ngang lalake, eh.” “Putang ina, pre, mukha talagang lalake? Baka naman nababakla ka lang at lalake talaga ‘yan!” “Tarantado ka, ah! Suntukan nalang!” “O sige, suntukan kami ng syota mong maton!” “Gago ka!” (Suntok.) “Aray.” “Ito pang isa!” (Suntok.) “Aray.” “Ito pang dalawa!” (Suntok. Suntok.) “Aray.” “Ito pang dalawa, sabay!” (Pompiang punch.) “Wala na, korni na.”
“A row of forty standing cigarette boxes wide, and about twice that measure long. That’s just on the outside; inside, there’s only room for no more than four people, and that’s if you plan to travel like a can of sardines - packed and without room to breathe.”
“I just think that it’s not worth the price tag, lest you wish to journey alone with barely enough room for jacking off,” Baotista explained his disagreement with Soldado’s recent purchase. He had the right to; after all, he shouldered a third of the total cost on the condition that he’ll receive just about as much when the return shipment gets here. His mistake was that he failed to show up during the ocular inspection day; his absence was even more surprising because when it comes to these kinds of transactions, he tends to be very, very meticulous, usually to Soldado’s extreme annoyance.
“Well, you weren’t there,” Sol said. “You were stupid enough to take my word for all its good points, so don’t blame me. Whatever you say, I’m pushing through with this. I’m riding out and I’m riding this stupid contraption and that’s that.”
“You’re too adventurous. You picked a crappy craft on purpose, didn’t you? I can tell.”
“Yes, I did. You ride out with the conventional crate and it’s no fun. Everybody does that. What’s the point?”
Bao knew then that whatever he invested on this project just had to be written off. So farewell, friend, and enjoy your adventure at my expense.
Maraming kuwento si ‘Tay tungkol kay ‘Nay. Mula pa noong mga panahong hindi pa ako pumapasok sa kindergarten, kinukuwentuhan na ako niyan gabi-gabi. (Hindi ko naaalala kung minsan ko bang nasambit ang mga katagang “kuwentuhan niyo pa po ako” ngunit sa pagbabalik-tanaw kong ito, masasabi kong tuwang-tuwa talaga ako sa mga istoryang ibinabahagi niya sa akin noon.) Hanggang high school, hanggang magkolehiyo na ako, kinukuwentuhan ako ni ‘Tay; hindi man habang nakalagpak ako sa kama ko sa pagtulog, ginagawa naman niya ito habang nagpapasahan kami ng tagay ng alak.
Marahil sa dinami-rami ng kanyang mga naibahagi sa aking mga pangyayari sa pagitan nila ni ‘Nay noong bata-bata pa sila, isa sa mga pinakagusto kong kuwento ay iyong tungkol sa Aphrodisiac Sisig. Hindi ko pa alam kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng aphrodisiac noong una kong marinig ang istorya nito, at bilang isang batang walang bahid ng kalibugan sa isip, inisip kong may napakaromantikong kahulugan ang salita. Noong malaman ko ang tunay na laman ng salitang ito pagtuntong ko ng mataas na paaralan, nagbago ang tingin ko kay ‘Tay. Hindi naman sa nawalan ako ng respeto sa kanya – bagkus, lalo pa nga akong natuwa sa karakter na ginagampanan niya sa buhay ko bilang isang amang mapagmahal, maginoo, at medyo bastos.
Rada Street (sa Makati) ang pangalan ng kalsadang kinatatayuan ng opisinang pinapasukan ni ‘Nay noong 2010. May kasintahan pa siya noon, kaopisina niya; Litotoy raw ang pangalan ng “bugok” na ito, ayon kay ‘Tay, ngunit di ako naniniwala sa kanya. May ugaling ganoon ang ama ko: nambababoy ng pangalan ng mga tao.
May tinatawag silang mga “Jolly Jeep” noon sa Makati: mga maliliit na tindahan ng ulam, kanin, meryenda, softdrinks, sigarilyo, at iba pa. Maihahalintulad ito sa mga karinderyang pinaliit hanggang maging singlaki na lamang ito ng pangkaraniwang banyo. At isa sa mga pinakadinudumog na Jolly Jeep noon ang tindahan sa harap mismo ng opisina ni ‘Nay; maraming Jolly Jeep sa Rada Street, ngunit kapag may nagsabing “Jolly Jeep sa Rada,” walang ibang tinutukoy kundi ang nasabing tindahan. Bakit ito sikat? Dahil sa Aphrodisiac Sisig na ipinagmamalaki ng may-ari ng tindahang ito. Siya ang nagluluto ng putaheng ito na madalas pang pinipilahan tuwing tanghalian.
Bakit aphrodisiac ang sisig na ito? Ayon kay ‘Tay, dinadasalan raw ng nagluluto ang karneng baboy na ginagamit sa paggawa nito at sinasabuyan ng kakaibang mga sangkap bago dalhin sa mismong lugar kung saan ito lulutuin. Sa kakaibang proseso raw na ito nabibihag ang kapangyarihan ng pag-ibig at nakukulong sa karneng kakainin ng mga suki ng tindahan.
Makapangyarihang tunay, ayon kay ‘Tay, na siya namang nagbabanat ng buto noon bilang kargador sa isang construction site malapit sa opisina ni ‘Nay.
Oo. May pinag-aralan ngunit hindi nakapagtapos ng high school si ‘Tay, samantalang edukada’t may itsura’t medyo maykaya si ‘Nay. Pagtatagpong mala-pelikula, ano? Hindi. “Hindi mala-pelikula, anak, dahil alam ko ang ginagawa ko noon at sa tulong ng Aphrodisiac Sisig, alam kong mamahalin rin ako ng iyong ina!” Iyan ang sabi ni ‘Tay, at mahihinuha mong nagkatotoo naman ang pagmamahalang iyon, hindi ba?
“Wala akong pakialam noon kay Litotoy,” pagtatanggol ni ‘Tay sa kanyang sarili. “Alam kong mapupunta rin naman sa akin iyang iyong ina. Hindi ko sila pinakialaman, hindi ko sila ginulo hanggang sa dulo ng aking kakayahan.”
Marahil ang biglaang pagkasira ng bubong ng nasabing Jolly Jeep ang pinakaimportanteng bagay na nangyari para sa aking buhay. Marahil, hindi ako mabubuo kung hindi dahil sa isang matabang batang umakyat sa bubong upang subukang tumalon sa pilahan at daganan iyong mga taong naghihintay para sa kani-kanilang order ng sisig. “Napanood raw niya sa wrestling ‘yung ‘frog splash’,” ayon kay ‘Tay. “Hindi siya nakatalon sa pila ng mga tao; bumigay ‘yung bubong dahil nadulas siya sa trapal na inilagay doon ng may-ari upang hindi mawala.”
Walang nangyaring masama sa batang ito, ngunit nadumihan ang lahat ng mga paninda ng Jolly Jeep at napilitan silang isara muna ito pansamantala habang nililigpit ang mga nasayang na pagkain at habang kinukumpuni ang bubong nito. Ang napiling mag-aayos ng bubong? Isang kargador na nagtatrabaho sa malapit lamang. Nang sabihin niyang hindi niya matatapos ayusin ang bubong dahil kailangan muna niyang kumupit ng mga yerong pagtatagpi-tagpiin, binigyan siya ng isang araw para tapusin ang trabaho. (Ang katotohanan: umuwi si ‘Tay sa kanyang bahay upang matulog muna dahil lubhang nakakapagod ang umaga niya sa construction site.)
Alas-otso ng gabi nang balikan ni ‘Tay ang Jolly Jeep na kanyang aayusin, nang biglang lumabas si ‘Nay mula sa kanyang opisina, umiiyak sa galit at bigla na lamang umupo sa bangketa.
“Bakit ka umiiyak?” ang tanong ni ‘Tay na pawis na pawis at nakasando’t pantalon lamang.
“Anong pakialam mo? Bukas pa ba ‘yang tindahan ninyo?”
At dahil listong mag-isip si ‘Tay (dala ng kanyang mahabang siesta): “Bukas pa, gusto mong sisig? Libre na.”
“Okay.”
Ngunit wala nang sisig sa tindahan. Inuwi ng mga may-ari ng tindahan ang lahat ng gamit nila sa pagluluto at itinapon naman na nila ang mga ulam na nadumihan dahil sa batang hulog ng langit.
“Wala nang sisig. Mag-softdrinks ka nalang.”
“Sige, bahala ka,” sagot ni ‘Nay, na halatang walang gustong ikuwento kay ‘Tay.
Isang bote, na nasimot kaagad ang laman dahil nga’t uhaw na uhaw na si ‘Nay. Isa pang bote ang inabot sa kanya ni ‘Tay at agad rin niya itong inubos. Limang bote ang makalipas, nagsimula nang magkuwento si ‘Nay.
“Nagsayang lang ako ng oras. Hindi naman talaga kami para sa isa’t isa. Ang mga gusto ko lamang naman: tahimik na pamumuhay, matinong trabaho, masayang pamilya. Maliit na bahay? Masaya na ako roon. Hindi ko kailangan ng limang kotse, hindi ko gustong mag-alaga ng maraming negosyo. Mababaw lang akong tao. Madali akong pasayahin. Pero madali rin akong manlula sa sobrang kayamanan.”
“At hindi niya kayang ibaba ang antas ng pamumuhay niya?” ang tanong ni ‘Tay.
“Hindi. Marami siyang pangarap. Marami siyang gusto sa buhay. Hindi siya nakukuntento sa isang platong kanin at dalawang ulam, halimbawa na lamang. Gusto niyang marami siyang pinagpipiliang ulam, kahit alam niyang hindi naman niya mauubos ang lahat ng ito. Ganoon siyang tao.”
“Hindi ako ganoon,” biglang nasambit ni ‘Tay. Nadulas kunwari, ngunit sinadya.
Tamang-tamang nahilo si ‘Nay sa ipinapainom sa kanya ni ‘Tay. (“Tarantado ako noon; nilalagyan ko ng alak ang bawat boteng iniinom ng ‘Nay mo. Habang tumatagal, parami nang parami ang alak na ihinahalo ko sa softdrinks niya. Ang gago ko, ano?”)
Nalasing si ‘Nay, nagkaroon siya ng tatlumpung minutong pagkahumaling kay ‘Tay, at sa loob ng Jolly Jeep nila ako binuo.
Kaya na lamang tiwala ako sa kapangyarihan ng “Jolly Jeep sa Rada Street”: wala mang katotohanan sa gayumang taglay umano ng sisig na ibinebenta rito, naniniwala ako sa kakaibang aphrodisiac na dala ng Jolly Jeep na ito. Gayuma ni ‘Tay, hinahalo sa Tanduay. Mabuti na lamang at tarantado siya; kung hindi dahil sa kasiraan ng ulo niya, hindi ako mabubuo’t wala akong kuwentong ganito ngayon.
Isang tagay para sa kay ‘Tay!
(Alternatively titled “Ricardo’s Love for the Woman Without a Pimp.”)
Ricardo was a man half-mad in love with a stranger: Eliza, who packs her bag everyday with the most unusual things women would bring with them to work, who passes by the love-struck man’s post every single day on her way to her own confinement.
Yesterday, she brought with her a can of tuna flakes for lunch. They had a can opener in the office and she figured it was a cheap way to regain the energy halfway through the afternoon when everyone at work felt like watching the clock tick away to five o’clock, when they would all rush out of the building and unbind themselves from lousy Mondays. Specifically, she brought a certain flavor of tuna flakes with her: menudo, because her boss liked it. Her boss, she liked.
And yesterday was the day Ricardo decided to approach this lady in red – red in love and madder than his madness for her, for her love’s purpose was both for business and pleasure and whatever else comes with those – and tell her about his appreciation for every breath she steals from him every day he sees her from his post. He was to tell her, “Gusto kitang makilala (I want to know you),” to which she would probably respond by telling him, “Hindi ako nagpapakilala sa mga taong basta-basta lang (I don’t introduce myself to just anyone).” But he would go on and do it anyway, for at least it would be a good enough end to this madness: her voice telling him to fuck off and leave her alone.
“Gusto kitang makilala,” Ricardo told her, as soon as she appeared from the corner she always appears from everyday. He waited for her all morning in case she showed up earlier than usual, but she was on time, as she always is.
“Ako ba ang kausap mo (Are you talking to me)?” Eliza asked. She was in a good mood: earlier, she told herself that she would not be grouchy the whole day, so as not to spoil her preparations for her beloved boss. Happy thoughts all day through.
“Oo (Yes),” he replied. “Pasensya na, araw-araw ka kasing dumadaan dito. Lagi kitang nakikita. Pakiramdam ko tuloy, kilalang-kilala na kita. Pero hindi. Kaya gusto kitang makilala. (Sorry, it’s because you pass this way everyday. I always see you. So, I feel like I know much about you. But no. That’s why I want to know you.)”
“Pasensya na (Sorry),” she apologized. “Wala po akong maibibigay. Ito nalang. (I have nothing to give. Just this.)” She handed him the can of tuna flakes, bowed her head, and walked away. Wala po akong maibibigay, pagpasensyahan na po ninyo ako, sakto lang ang pamasahe ko. (I have nothing to give, my apologies, but I only brought enough for my fare.)
Ricardo took the can with him back to his post and had three things running through his mind simultaneously: that first, she did not find him weird; that second, whether he looked or sounded like the beggar she figured him to be; and that third, at least he received something for all of the stupid ogling he did for months.
Eliza would later visit a store during her lunch break and buy another can of tuna flakes of the same flavor to replace the one she gave Ricardo. She would later enjoy it with her boss, who would take her to a place of pleasure: a place familiar to Eliza, as the man guarding the entrance of the building was an insignificant person who earlier snacked on tuna flakes as well.
“Anak ng menudo!” Ricardo exclaimed in a excited hush. “Hindi ko ginustong malaman mong nagta-trabaho ako sa shortayman. Pero dahil narito ka na at mukhang ginagawa mo na ‘yung gusto kong ipagawa sa iyo, gusto mo ba akong maging bugaw mo? (I did not want you to figure out that I work at a short-time motel. But since you are already here and presumably already doing what I want you to do, would you like me to be your pimp?)”
At the heart of the urban jungle that is Makati, a team of production crew members, actors, and actresses (veterans and rising stars) lined up to face a firing squad of cameramen and media people; questions were fired, defenses went up, and an already great film was glorified further in the process.
I like the fact that this outfit representing the upcoming film, The Red Shoes, was very proud of its work; Tessie Tomas even went as far as to say it was a step towards a Renaissance of sorts for Philippine cinema, an industry beset by piracy, budget cuts, and deterioration of quality over the years: a natural occurrence given that over time, a formula for “great movies” is improved upon and followed in hopes of guaranteeing ticket sales, and that this formula is the same menace that makes many movies that hit the big screen look, sound, and play out the same way as the last one before it.
The Red Shoes, the group claims, is an original film from top to bottom, a true gem of Philippine film-making history, a milestone in originality and representation of local culture. I was convinced the first time I saw the film in an advanced access to it two weeks prior. I was convinced further a week later when I saw it again. The defense of those part of the production could not convince me more of the quality of the film, but they offered me bits and pieces beyond what was shown on-screen that allowed me to appreciate that piece of art on a greater level.
I anticipated that this would be a special afternoon, and I was correct; the decision to maximize my recording devices was fruitful as I was able to capture sights (still and moving) and audio on separate tools.
I had a relatively unique appreciation of the movie for I partially share backgrounds in advertising with the scriptwriter and the director, as well as an attempt at making it big at Cinemalaya (for which The Red Shoes was originally intended to participate in); I wanted to congratulate him and his team for a job well done but they were swarmed by media personnel from all sides of the room. I had to hand my congratulations somewhere else, so I am doing it here now on this journal.
I have a soft spot for vanguards of Philippine art and culture, and I find it hard not to love a movie trying to represent a chunk of Philippine history, to entice audiences from whichever sector and class, to be artful and original, and to be of the uncompromising kind, the kind of which is rarely seen not only in the local film industry but in a broader sense, the Philippine way of life.
At the heart of the urban jungle that is Makati, a team of production crew members, actors, and actresses (veterans and rising stars) lined up to face a firing squad of cameramen and media people; questions were fired, defenses went up, and an already great film was glorified further in the process. This team was composed of vanguards of Philippine cinema, they were proud to say as I am proud to present them to you; it somewhat is a cliche to say that we need more people like them to churn out quality works in the future, but it is not to say that the inspiration that future film-makers and writers and actors and actresses can draw from this film will help shape the future of Philippine art.
Bravo.
