‘Bago-ong Eksperyensiya’

By Sr Leticia Bartolome ICM

This is a privileged trip!  I’ve neither passport nor visa nor do I have to pay travel tax to leave the Philippines.  I haven’t seen anyone yet as I’m sitting in a dark and crowded place.  In less than two hours we land in Hong Kong.  I can’t see anything yet, though I feel movement around me.  Finally, air and light enter.  Aaahhh!  The box is being opened. Will they let us out?

Clueless

A customs officer pulls me out, studies my appearance, holding me close to his face.  Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he returns me and tightly closes the box.  Someone comes and takes me and my companions on a bus.  I’m tired and sleepy…

Point of destination

Waking up, I find myself inside a big sari-sari store. Am I back in the Philippines?  Oh, I’m not alone.  I see other bottles next to me.  We’re on a shelf. ‘Oy, patis, you’re here too?’  I see familiar faces on familiar containers.  There they are, suka, adobo, lechon sauce, sardines, kare-kare, otap, dried mangoes, even fresh saba, Goldilocks – polvoron, ensaymada. Suddenly a big group of Filipinos come in, noisily touching us all, shopping for Filipino products.  Another group sit around a table and orderhalo-halo.  Why, they can even order a Filipino meal here!

Alone but not lonely

Before I know it I’m left alone on the shelf.  My companions are sold out.  ‘How long will I stay here?’  I wonder. Never mind, I’ll just make friends with the others in the store.  ‘Hi, tawas, coconut shampoo,Eskinol!  What are you doing here?’

Several days pass.  I’m not homesick at all.  There’s much to learn by observing and listening to people who come in.  The speak Ilocano, Cebuano, Bicolano, Tagalog, Chavacano, practically every language from Batanes to Tawi-Tawi.  Sometimes I laugh with them in their joys and cry with them as they tell their tales of injustice and maltreatment.  Listening to their family stories and their problems can be too much for me.

My bottled-up feelings

One day I hear a young girl’s voice asking, ‘Do you still have bagoong?’  Finally I’m leaving.

Now my life is slowly ebbing away.  In a short time I’ll be gone and only an empty bottle will remain to be recycled with others.  But before I disappear, I have some questions.  Why are our people in the Philippines so much after foreign goods while those living abroad buy products from home?  Why do our people suffer so much in our country and when they go abroad they suffer just the same having to do ‘3-D jobs’ – dangerous, dirty, demeaning?  So many questions!  I wish I had answers!  I wish I could be of help!  But what can a small bottle of bagoong do for the country?

Are you listening, Bayang Pilipino?  Are you listening, leaders of the country?