Ranting away...: 'Erap'

Ranting away...

Friday, November 16, 2007

'Erap'

Disclaimer: No, this isn't a political commentary on the colorful character that is Joseph Ejercito Estrada or his recent pardon.

November 14, 2007

A light drizzle had begun to fall, but I refused to open my umbrella. I felt the pinpricks of cold wetness falling on my skin. Being the stubborn person that I am, I let it be.

Minutes later, after having ticked off the items in my grocery list and bought myself some dinner, I ran out of cash. I decided to walk to the ATMs at the other side of the SC. It was there that I met Erap.

Joseph, a.k.a. "Erap," is a grimy little boy whom I reckon to be not more than ten years of age. (With the effects of malnutrition and the possibility of stunted growth, it's hard to tell.) He's a regular at the SC, a "kalaykay boy" who's either scavenging for PET bottles or going around begging from the people in the vicinity. He was playing with the ATM that a lady had just vacated. When he saw me coming, he stepped aside and uttered his lines:

"Kuya, penge pong barya. Pangkain ko lang po."

I averted my eyes and didn't mind him, which is how I usually react to those who beg for money. He moved on to the lady at the next machine. After withdrawing money, I remembered the pansit that I had opted to buy at the last minute. I could have chosen to just go on ignoring the kid, but I decided to offer him the pansit. Surprisingly, he refused. He insisted on being given cash. My first reaction was like: The ingrate, and he has the nerve to refuse my charity. But he explained:

"Kuya, pera na lang po. Beinte pesos, pambili ko lang ng kanin at sabaw. 'Di po ako bibili ng kung anu-ano, hindi naman po ako nagsisinungaling."

I don't know what happened or the how and why of it, but something just gave in inside me right then. At that moment, I believed him when he said he was telling the truth.

"Saan ka bibili ng pagkain?" I ventured.

"Doon po, sa Balara."

He explained that it was cheaper to buy food there and that he needed only 25 pesos to buy "kanin at sabaw" for his siblings. No mention of his parents though.

"Ilan kayong magkakapatid?"

"Marami," was his simple reply.

I told him I'd see if I still had enough change to spare. I came up with 25 pesos and asked:

"Bakit ka andito?"

"Nanghihingi po. Eto nga po oh, binigyan ako," referring to the C2 bottle he was clutching.

I handed him the money.

"Pang-kain mo lang 'yan ha," I reminded him and got up, preparing to leave.

"Teka lang po, bilangin ko..." he pleaded.

Again, I was surpised. Didn't he trust me? But I dismissed that line of thinking and reasoned out that maybe he just wanted to make sure he had enough money to buy food. So we counted off the coins - 25 pesos in all.

"O, uwi ka na ha? Gabi na. Ano nga pangalan mo?"

"Joseph."

"Ikaw ba 'yung madalas tumambay sa may Green Shoppe at tinatawag nilang 'Erap'?"

"Opo," he brightened up as he nodded his head. Perhaps sensing my confusion or reading my puzzled expression, he quickly added: "Kaya nga po 'Erap' eh, kasi 'Joseph' ang pangalan ko, " he beamed at me. I got the drift.

How did I know his nickname? Well, I already had an unpleasant encounter with him before at the Green Shoppe. He was the same grimy, smelly and snot-nosed boy that annoyingly kept looking over my shoulder or sidling up to me while I was watching anime. I could still remember how pissed off I was. The kid repulsed me. Why? Because he stinks and doesn't have the luxury of showers and decent clothes? Or maybe because he - who probably doesn't have TV at home, let alone ineternet - was intruding on my precious leisure time simply out of childlike curiosity?

I remembered and stared at him real hard, right then. The kid had just taught me valuable lesson. I saw how wrong I had been. I saw reflected in his eyes, just how much of a jerk I can be at times. I felt my heart rending. He is just a kid, after all. A very deprived one, at that. A victim of the circumstances, he doesn't deserve to be in this situation.

I handed him the pansit. I told him to give to the sister he kept mentioning and share it with his siblings, and admonished him to go home straight away.

"Saan ka ba nakatira?"

"Sa Balara din po..." then he added expectanty: "Hatid niyo po ako?"

I was caught unaware - again. The boy had a knack for catching me off guard. I looked at him and those bright, young eyes stared back up at me.

Why'd he suddenly ask that question? But then again, why would he not? As a kid, wasn't I like that, too? Who am I to deny children the right to be optimistic, to expect some goodness from other people - the right to hope?

But I had to turn him down, reasoning out that I had to go back to the dorm and that it was raining and all. But when I told him that we could together for some distance, he brightened up again. When we came to the street, and I told him I had to go another way, he knit his brows and said:

"Ay, ibang daan po 'yan. Dito po ako," he said as a matter of fact and pointed to his left.

I insisted on that I had to go and bade him goodbye. As I crossed the street, he called out:

"Kuya! Ano pong pangalan niyo?"

I looked back and said: "Rem."

I don't know if he got it right, but he seemed to have repeated it to himself and went his way.

God knows that it wasn't even the least that I could do. And he isn't alone. There are many more Josephs and Eraps out there. I met one such boy in Antique; his name is Ga-a. Despite their appearances, mannerisms or backgrounds, they are still children. And no one, especially myself, should be depriving them of their childhood, of their being childlike, of their being children.

The original Erap may have been proven guilty, but God used a little boy that bears the former president's name to convict me of my own guilt and to show me that before that boy named Erap, I was the one who's guilty. I have much to learn from these little children.

The boy named Ga-a

I remember Ga-a, whom at first, I kept my distance from. But I, and the missions team, soon saw in him the child that was in need - hungry for all that he had been deprived of... love from a seemingly uncaring father and a mother whom he had lost at an early age. In essence, it was for people like them that our missions trip was all about. May I learn to to have a heart for these children, and compassion for those who are lost, the downtrodden and the poor.

"Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."" (Matthew 19:14)
"Whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me." (Matthew 18:5)

Labels: rantings, the walk

posted by remrick @ 2:34 PM

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