This is a sequel of “So She Dances” and my second post during my stay in my mother’s hometown of Matalom, Leyte.
I just realized its been four years since the last I visited there and I already forgot the Dances’ residence. But after hearing from her big sister that she’s in town and took a few day off Cebu to attend the town fiesta, I knew I have to see her immediately and offer my congratulations for passing last October’s Exams. Unfortunately I was a walking mess that night because: (a) I was with my cousins’ family at Canigao Island, the town main tourist destination, and I swam and drunk there all day (b) I drank again with my fellow runners at last week’s Matalom Fun Run 2 before dinner and (c) I drank again after dinner. And (d) who the hell took the bike!?
One thing I immediately noticed in Matalom is the overwhelming sight of dutch bikes, you know those bikes we see in Asian romance films. I think they are like volkswagen in two wheels because they’re cute and romantically designed for two people. These type of bike usually have baskets in front for storage and groceries and a sit at the back. They are everywhere in the town; my cousins have them, my neighbors, the chief of police and the mayor himself possibly have one in his garage. Matlomnons got taste.
Because I (and my big sister, and my brothers and mom and dad) didn’t bring a single camera I was forced to draw one. Here’s my sketch. Oh btw I didn’t place the bike in front of the 150 year-old St. Joseph Parish church because there are a lot of people that time. My parent were married there, and me and Ate Gretch were baptized there too.
Then I made a few edits applying the Scan, Invert, Edit principle of my blackout doodles technique. And presto, from a drank man’s perspective comes this ‘Bike in the Dark‘.
Back in the search for Miss Dances. I had a good night sleep after drinking three year’s worth of tuba. During the morning I was pretty sober and my auntie’s bike is back in the garage. But the brake’s busted and the basket dangling. Where do I repair this thing? Aunt gave me directions of a nearby bike shop. But instead of finding repair, I found her. And she has a dutch bike too.
Indeed they’re right, it’s always Happy Fiesta in Matalom.
Ghost. Growing up, summer practically meat days of vacation in Matalom in my aunt’s house. A summer without visiting the place is no vacation at all. One of the most memorable was the summer of ’97 when the Purefoods won a thrilling PBA championship, stayed there for two full weeks and learned how to ride a bike. Every night I slip out to some neighbor’s house to watch horror movies. That’s when I realized ghosts are not scary, they are entertaining. Hidden but real. Faceless but fearful. You want to deny them but they’re simply undeniable.
Fast forward to the present I think I become one of them. And yesterday, at Chief Justice Corona’s Impeachment final day of trial, D-Day, our kind took center stage. Have you noticed that all of the senators except Meriam Defensor-Santiago delivered their verdict reading prepared written speeches. Do you think all of them wrote those brilliant, eloquent and impeccably structured statement came from them? I beg to disagree, at least some but not all are written by somebody. We call those unheard voices as the ghost writers . I emphasize NOT ALL OF THE SENATORS but there are some who hires ghosts to write and prepare their speeches probably part of the senatorial teams of advisers and analysts (marami kasi sa kanila may mga negosyo pangmakinarya sa eleksyon. d naman lhat ng oras focus sila sa senado).Ghosts are the unsung heroes behind the brilliance and failure of our country’s political landscape. They have the most thankless of all jobs, some people doesn’t even know they exist. They’re not given credit for their works, they are paid. They can’t be blamed either, still they are paid. They are there. Observing. Planning. Scheming. Writing.
I wrote speeches for other people aside from writing anonymously here in my blog. That makes me a ghost.