Home » Post Item » "commuters"
"commuters"
October 25, 2010There are many things to write about. They come like manna from heaven. They occur just when it’s inconvenient to record them. Just like a while ago, while I was seated in a multi-cab, another town’s version of a jeepney. I was the third passenger, who was getting bored awaiting the multi-cab to be full so we could finally hit the road. And one by one the commuters occupied the empty seats but the one in front of me who came in first got me thinking. I looked at her with compassion but also with intrigue. Observing her made all these thoughts flood in. She looked emaciated while holding a plastic bag full of ripe bananas. Then she began to eat one voraciously. Her eyes sunken and her cheeks could not have been so noticeable had she been pounds heavier. She looks as if she could need an early good night rest. No, I’m not depreciating her. I can never look at someone with condemnation. I value people with same self-respect. I was simply intrigued by the story of her tired, gloomy eyes
The other passenger who boarded before me was at the far end at my left. She was just behind the driver’s seat. Carrying a plastic box that used to be a large biscuit container, I presumed she was out on the streets all day selling bibingka, or puto or some ”lutong bahay” just to have extra cash for the family’s “salo-salo” later in the evening. She also caught my attention because just as the woman in front of me looked as if she skipped lunch just to save money, the other woman at my left seemed more pitiful. I was really moved and deeply hurt by this insightful pictures of two women who obviously have had rough years of their lives.
Then the second woman started to open a plastic full of bread that she must have brought from home as a “baon” to help her satiate her gnawing stomach. They both started to munch while the rain started to pour. And I just couldn’t help myself from being moved by what I was seeing because just before I came to the multi-cab, I had a good appetizing meal at one of the best restaurants in town. I dined on an expensive meal. And seeing them just filled my heart with gratitude and I just felt blessed. I didn’t feel blessed because I had more compared to them, but because a larger Power was telling me I should find contentment in what I have. But you see, all the more that I saw God in their experience. The ride was made more dramatic with the presence of two
women in their mid-30s who looked older than their age and who
both seemed impoverished. But they seemed to be uncomplaining people. They are less fortunate, yes, but they continue to struggle with their lives, working, earning, selling out on the streets so they could provide for their families.
That ride taught me the virtue of gratitude and it’s such a life-transforming feeling that made me realize more how fortunate I am. Yes, how grateful I should be for not walking under the heat of the sun just to sell some goods or preventing myself from spending too much because I only earn a day’s work and tomorrow, I would have to go out again and woe my prospect buyers just for my family to have something to eat by midnight. That experience also made me more sensitive of others and it reinforced my belief that no matter what our societal status is, every person is our equal. When we are a bit better than others, all the more that we have to be sensitive and respectful of them. Our being “better” does not give us the right to look down on anyone.
I must say that it was a very inconvenient evening because it made me feel awful about their condition. I can sense their pain — the pain that arises from lacking so much in life. Let’s say maybe an opportunity for a better livelihood or source of financial income. You can say just by observing them that life is hard. I don’t bring “baon” when I go out just to economize. I would feel awkward and embarrassed if I put out in public a plastic of bananas or a 1-peso worth bread and then eat them while others watch me. I cannot do that unless I went on a hunger strike for days!
I remember at one trip, there were kids offering packs of fried peanuts worth 5 pesos. And the old woman probably at her 60’s said jokingly to the insistent boy that if she buys the peanuts, she wouldn’t have anything to pay for the 8-peso ride! So it got into me that she might have only ten pesos to cover for the ride home or an exact fare! And was she dreadful about it? No! She was okay with it. Amazing isn’t it? That she could still manage to laugh about it. While you maybe (as one of the commuters) have a heavy pocket full of coins! At time she had barely ten pesos to get home, I had my allowance to cover for an entire month of bearable living. Am not saying that I didn’t have my “down moments,” that I never went out “penniless,” that I was always abundant and that having “almost nothing” never occurred to me. Am not saying I have never known poverty or the feeling of lacking or the state of inadequacy. All I’m saying is that I was grateful to see my blessings through others that day. It is through others that I appreciate more what I have. And it makes me sensitive more of what others might need. And if I can help, then so be it.
Here’s one last thing. And it is not about a commuter. It’s about a shopper, an old man whom I always see in school before. His relationship with his 80-year old wife is just amazing. He is just as old as her but because of his love he would still drive his “padyak,” a tree -wheeler “bicycle” so that she wouldn’t walk while they sell snacks in the campus. One day, I was shopping and HE SAW ME and he asked me if where can he get a chocolate “hello” pack because his wife loves it very much. And so, I pointed to him where to look and I overheard him asking the saleslady if he could buy only two bars as he could not afford the 80-peso pack. He was declined of course! I was paying already for my groceries then as I was looking at him while he continues to bargain. I don’t know but I guess, I just loved the couple well enough to think twice of getting the whole pack of chocolate. “Tatay” came to the counter and I told the cashier to charge it on me. The old man said he’ll buy only twp pieces from me as has nothing to pay for everything, I just said it’s my birthday so it’s my gift. I was just so moved by his passion to please his wife that when he couldn’t find the same chocolate from the nearby grocery, he kept on looking until he came to the store where I was. And he blessed me and I left the place hurriedly because I do not want people seeing me do stuffs like that. Anonymity is genuineness. It was enough to know that some people are made happy because of a little kindness.
They were blessed, yes! Because God wanted to give them something through me. But was I blessed, too? Definitely!. I walked out from the grocery store, overwhelmed with good feeling. And the feeling was of peace and joy of acting on a Divine prompting. And God used them and their “need” to reach to me and bless me with an opportunity to do good. Now I know more clearly that I have an eye for people’s needs. I “see” people. Before, I used to hate the feeling of “seeing” people because it hurts me especially when I couldn’t respond when I feel helpless myself. Now, I see it as a gift. Not many people has this gift of sensing silent pain, of seeing untold needs.
Who would have thought that I, among many people, would be approached by the old man? Who would have thought that God would put an extra 80 pesos in my pocket so I could buy this old man’s grocery? Who would have thought that I would spend two birthdays in a year? Yes, I gave the same couple groceries on my real birthday prior to our second meeting in the grocery store. They were the couples I wanted to treat that day but when the old man saw me in the grocery store, he never recognized me as the same person he met months ago. It did affect me, human as we are we want a bit of recognition, but I snapped out of it soon. Who cares if no one remembers or knows? It is enough that both sides have been blessed: Mine and theirs.
And so we are all commuters in this thing called LIFE. We encounter people along the way. Some we meet once, others we ride with again. Have you ever prayed for those you ride with in a jeepney or bus? I used to do that often when I was younger. I look at everyone who joins me in my ride to school or home and say a silent prayer for each of them. They did not know. And I don’t know how those prayers affected their lives. All I know is that those prayers were heard.
