Indulgence

thoughts before leaving for the beach

Anna Nalick from In the Rough
Someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough
I shine a little more lately

Yesterday, on my way to dinner in Makati, I was finishing my cigarette at the step of the escalator to the MRT. There were 5 kids in rags with black smears on their arms, neck, legs and faces selling sampaguita to all who passed them by. They would ride the escalator insisting on a sale; when they were assured of a no-sale, they would walk against the movement of the escalator back down to the ground. It seemed terribly difficult for these young kids, one or two of them must have been at least 6 years old, to go against the escalator. I mean, I was wondering what strength these kids could possibly have, not eating well or sleeping with a roof on their heads. It struck me on the chest. I finished my cigarette early and took the step that led me up towards the MRT. They didn't bother me on their way down.

After a fantastic dinner conversation with a good friend, Cholo, I went back to the office to finish my work. I had finished in the wee hours of the morning (which was punctuated with having insulted someone twice with a smile on my face and then, realising it, apologised sincerely but me, still feeling a little awkward and shitty), I had arrived at Cubao station. Before going home, I went to a 7-11 and got myself a hotdog sandwich to munch on and some fresh milk. Half-way through, I was full. I stepped out of the 7-11 and gave the half sandwich to a kid begging outside the door. He was so thankful. I was so shocked by it. I don't know why.

I guess I'm so used to the quick acceptance of these little charities from impoverished children. They take whatever you give them and run off to some little corner where the other kids wouldn't pester them to share the bounty. This little kid gave me a big smile and said his thanks. I nodded my head and smiled. As I walked off, I could feel a burning sensation in my back so I looked behind me and the kid was giving me a big smile while chewing on the hotdog sandwich. I turned away hoping not to have taken away any of the child's dignity. I really didn't know what I was suppose to do at that situation.

These should not be the thoughts of one who is about to leave for the beach in a few hours. This will be my first out of town excursion that has nothing to do with work for the whole year. Why am I fussing over something as common place as children begging and random acts of charity? Maybe because it is so common place?

I can just imagine the tour bus guide, And on your left is Rizal shrine. We will be making a turn in a bit so that the bus can park and we can ride down. There is a lot of traffic when we cross the street, so let's all be careful and oh! Look! Street children!

It's like a safari and they treat them like monkeys. They don't have the rarity of a large cat like a lion or a panther and are not afforded the awe and wonder of such. Monkeys, in zoos or safaris, in my opinion, are welcomed with some level of amusement at the beginning and then, after you've seen your third or fourth, they start to lose their novelty quickly. Or maybe that's just my opinion. I've never really liked monkeys.

Helpless. I feel helpless. How do you get these kids off the streets and get them under a roof, into some warm clothing and hoping that every weekday morning they are in school?

In the Stephen Sondheim musical Sunday in the Park with George, Georges Seurat's mother in the play states a wonderful truth, The only thing we leave behind in this world is children and art. That's it, really. It's the only thing we can actually leave behind. It's a beautiful idea; a wonderful gem of wisdom. But not like this. Not when they are on the street, smeared black with grease and dirt and working their asses off at such an age. They should be playing and reading and singing songs. Not like this.

I'm off to the beach in a few hours. I know myself enough to know that the moment my feet make contact with the sand, this will be far off my mind. I've got my cousins to talk to; a good book that I'll be starting (the 6th in my quota before the end of the year), my zips and a chance to unwind with the sea breeze and the sun (it better come out). But right now, while it's on my mind; I'll ponder on it further. What can I do? What can anybody really do?

posted by wanggo @ 6:21 PM