The traffic is heavy. Not moving. The air is still, hot and dirty
from the exhaust of the endless lanes of cars, trucks, buses and
jeepneys. My friends and I are used to it. We stop playing “poks”
and run into the congested traffic with our t-shirts flung carelessly
over our shoulders or wrapped tightly around our wrists concealing
a bag of rugby. Weaving in and out between the idling vehicles,
we put on our saddest and hungriest looks and tap at the car windows
with the backs of our scarred knuckles. Most of the drivers ignore
us, but some take pity and slip a few pesos out through cracked
windows. It's harder to beg now, since the mayor put up those
huge billboards everywhere telling people not to give money to
street children. By the end of the day I have earned nearly 50
pesos. I dodge through the moving traffic and take the money across
the street to the 7-11. My mother is sitting on a piece of cardboard
with my six other siblings, one sucking at her sagging breast.
Dutifully, I hand the money over to her. She tucks it away somewhere
on her person and tells me I am a good son. I sit down next to
her and watch the legs of people passing by. Occasionally, someone
drops a coin or two into the Styrofoam cup sitting in front of
us.
Watching the moving traffic, I drift back to the times when we
lived at sea, sailing whichever way the wind blew us. We are Badjaos.
It means boat people or sea gypsies. Badjaos live on houseboats
only going on land to die. We used to make our living from the
sea, but over the years the fish became scarce. The big fishing
trawlers and the dynamite raped and destroyed the sea. We had
no food and no money and the ongoing war with all of the killings
forced us to flee. My family decided to go to Manila, where jobs
and opportunities were plentiful. At least that is what we believed.
We sailed over perilous seas for many days and nights from Southern
Mindanao all the way up to Manila. It was a miracle that we survived.
When we arrived in the big city, all of our hopes were shattered.
My parents could not find work. Undereducated, unskilled, unable
to speak the language and ignorant to the ways of the city, we
were forced to beg for survival. At the age of six, I became the
bread winner of the family. Naked and dirty with snot running
down my nose, I stood at the corner of the 7-11 store with an
outstretched hand. Sometimes my mother was with me. Sometimes I
was alone. But I always gave her all of my earnings.
When I was seven, I met a kind social worker. She persuaded my
parents to put me into a center. They gave me food, clothing,
shelter and sent me to school. I was very happy there, but it
didn’t last very long. After nearly six months in the center,
my mother pulled me out. She said I was needed to help make money
to support the family. My siblings were still too small to help.
So, I was back on the streets begging day and night. Dutifully
I gave the money to my mother.
When
I wasn’t begging, I played games with my friends, like sipa
and poks. I wasn’t so good at sipa, but poks, now that was
my game.
One day while playing, a tall man in nice clothes walked up to
my friends and I.
“Hey,
Joe,” we called. "What's your name?"
"Hi, I'm Bob," he said. "What are your names?"
The other kids didn't answer and kept joking, calling him “Joe”,
“Kano” and "puti." They could not really talk
to him because their English was not very good. I had already
learned a lot from the many foreigners hanging around the clubs
and bars in Mabini.
"Hey,
that looks like fun?" said Bob "Can I try?"
"Sure," I said. "Here take my poks."
He
was a really lousy player and lost all of them. My friends got
a good laugh and all of my poks. Bob shrugged his shoulders and
said this game was not for him. Then he pulled out a bundle of
notes and handed me 100 pesos.
"You're
a good kid, he said. Here take this and buy yourself some more
poks."
I was elated and thanked him.
“Now
who’s the loser,” I boasted to my friends.
I ran over to my mother and dutifully gave her the money. She
tucked it away somewhere on her person and asked who was the man
playing with us.
“His
name is Bob. He is rich and he is nice," I said watching
him walking down the street and disappearing into a crowd of people.
Two days later, as I was playing with my siblings, Bob walked
by our cardboard playground. He didn't seem to notice us. I jumped
up and ran over to him calling his name.
"Bob!
Bob!" I shouted.
He didn’t recognize me until I asked him if he wanted another
game of poks. He laughed, and I invited him to come meet my mother.
"I
don't have time right now. I'm in a big hurry," he said looking
at his gold watch.
"It won't take long, "I said, eagerly pulling him over
to the seven-eleven store, where my mother was sitting on a piece
of torn cardboard with some of my little brothers. I introduced
him, as he bent down to pick up my youngest brother.
"This is the man who gave me the hundred pesos the other
day," I explained to my mother, and we laughed and joked
about the poks game. Bob handed my baby brother back to my mother
and said that he could not believe that we actually lived on the
streets. "Here take this," he said handing me another
100 pesos. "You go and buy some food for your family. Look
at the time. I really must head off now." He said good-bye
to us and left.
"Bob's a really nice guy." I said to my mother, who
nodded agreeably.
About a week later, Bob came to visit us.
"I'm
going to Pagsanjan on business for a few days, and I would like
to invite you to come along for the company," he said. "Tell
your mother I promise to take good care of you and I won't let
you get into any kind of trouble."
As I begged my mother to allow me to go, Bob reached into his
pocket and handed her 500 pesos.
"To
cover the loss while he is away," Bob said smiling at her.
She nodded in consent. I was so happy.
"Meet
me at 9:00 sharp at the hotel Paradise. We don’t want to
be late for the bus.” he said.
My mother and I beamed as he left. Displaying a toothless smile,
she folded the 500 pesos and tucked it away somewhere on her person.
The next morning, I went to the hotel early. It was very beautiful
and it had air-con. The receptionist wouldn’t allow me in,
but Bob arrived just in time to meet me. He said I was with him.
He put his arm around my shoulder and led me onto the elevator,
where we rode all the way up to the fourteenth floor. The elevator
was carpeted and there were mirrors on the walls. My reflection
showed me how dirty I was and suddenly I felt a little ashamed.
The elevator stopped and we got off. On the walls were golden
lamps and every door had gold numbers on it. Wow! Bob must be
really rich. I thought. Then we came to his room 1407. We entered.
There was a great view of the Manila Bay, a huge bed with four,
big pillows on it and a really big color TV. I learned quickly
how to use the remote, and I flipped through the channels until
I found the cartoons. I could have stayed there all day, but Bob
reminded me that we had to get going and he suggested that I take
a bath before leaving.
The
bathroom was also very big and very beautiful with many mirrors.
I looked around and smelled the soaps and perfumes, while Bob
ran hot water into the bathtub. He put in some green shampoo and
lots of bubbles grew.
"Wow!
I’ve never had a bath before," I said excited. Quickly,
I jumped out of my rags and into the frothing tub. It felt great
being totally immersed in a bath full of bubbles. While I bathed
Bob picked up the dirty clothes and closed the door behind him.
When I finished, I wrapped myself in one of the very thick white
towels he had laid out for me. It was so big that it dragged to
the floor. I walked out of the bathroom stumbling as I went.
"Look
at you," laughed Bob. “You still have soap bubbles sitting
on the top on of your head. Come here," he said, as he reached
for the towel and unwrapped it from around me. Embarrassed, I
quickly covered myself with my hands.
Bob
looked at me and said: "We are both men, right? So, it's
o.k." Then I relaxed a little and let him dry me off with
the towel. Afterwards, he asked me to close my eyes.
"What's
going on?" I asked curiously.
"Just keep them closed until I tell you to open them,"
he said.
When he was ready, I opened my eyes and saw a stack of beautifully
wrapped presents lying on the bed.
"They're
for you" Bob said.
Forgetting my shyness, I dashed naked onto the bed and began to
rip open the packages.
"If
you're a good boy on our trip, then I would have a really big
surprise for you when we get back to Manila," said Bob.
"I promise to be really good," I said to him trying
on the Chicago bulls baseball cap. I got some shirts, shorts,
underwear, socks, a cool pair of Nike sneakers, a Swatch watch,
and a Hello Kitty backpack.
"Thanks, Bob!" I said gleaming.
He
looked at me and smiled. “Get dressed. We’ll be late
for the bus."
We
headed southeast out of Manila to Pagsanjan. It was a wonderful
and scenic bus ride. We arrived there around noon time, had lunch,
then checked into our hotel room. Bob changed into his swimming
trunks. I didn’t have any. He said that children here didn’t
need to wear anything.
I felt very shy when we went out to the poolside, but I remembered
my promise. There were many “puti" men and many young
boys. Like me, none of the boys wore any clothes. They were all
naked. They were playing and swimming and did not seem to be shy.
Some of the boys sat on the laps of the men drinking Sprite and
Coke.
Bob
told me to run along and play, but my nakedness still made me
feel shy. Finally, I mustered up my courage and did a canon ball
run into the pool. Bob took a seat at the bar and started talking
to some of the other men. It was almost night when he called me
out of the water. I was shivering and cold. Bob took the big white
towel that was next to him and dried me off with it. Then he flipped
me up over his shoulders and on to his back. We galloped all the
way back to the hotel room. In the room, he dropped me playfully
on the big bed. We had a pillow fight and fell down laughing together.
He kissed my cheek and stroked my face with the back of his hand.
Then he asked me if I remembered the surprise he promised me,
if I were a really good boy?
I
was a good boy and waiting for me in Bob’s hotel room when
we got back to Manila was a beautiful, shiny red bicycle. Bob
took me and the bike back to my mother. He gave her 2000 pesos.
She took the money, smiled her toothless smiled and tucked it
away somewhere on her person. Then Bob told my mother we wouldn’t
have to live on the streets anymore. He said that he and his friends
would send me and my siblings to school, if I continued to be
a good boy.
Bob left and we waved good-bye to him.
What I did with Bob in Pagsanjan and the many friends who came
after him was never spoken of. My younger siblings and I all attend
school and we have our own little house with a TV and a karaoke.
I am a good boy and a dutiful son
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