Thursday, September 5, 2013

Symposium

I. "him" (waiter) Expounds on The Absurd

“All we do is wait. In the morning we wait for a ride and in traffic, we wait to arrive. And so we wait for the text message to be sent and we wait for the reply, we wait for the pages to load then they ask us to wait as the photos upload,"

---uploading photos please wait--

"now we study and wait for the sem-break and we wait until we graduate. Then we wait for the newspapers to show us a good job, we wait for our applications to be approved"

--wait for our call/text mr so and so---

and we work and we wait for our salary, or basically we just wait for our salary, then they ask us to we wait for a promotion or a regularization or contractualization, so we wait for a loan, we wait 9 months for our sons and daughters to be born, we wait for a visa or we wait for our retirement, we wait until our children grow old, graduate and work-waiting”

Started the waiter/philosopher as he dropped his thin shoulders and raised his heavy head.

His last coughing sigh: “and then They wait for us to die…waiting“

"they" are his children abroad waiting to let go of the last responsibility they have of their former country-him. "him" is 55 year old waiter turned philosopher waiting in line to withdraw the “padala” .
--please wait in line--

“But, why should we?“ asked a Landlady who was there to encash her tenant’s payments.

II. Manong Guard and the Order of the universe

Out of the order and out of nowhere, Manong guard answered: “Why? because everything is made of lines, you are in a line and only one can pass at a time. So fall in line and wait for your turn“

With the crowd looking at him, Manong guard gripped his belt(proud of his batutas and his belly), looked at his audience from left to right, cleared his throat "ahem" and started as if the crowd was required to listen:

“Lines, like the one you are waiting on are everywhere. This bank is made up of lines- ask an architect, everything is made up of lines- ask a scientist or borrow her microscope, lines are found even in your own faces-look in the mirror-look closer"

He smiled at the landlady, who was wearing make-up, then back to the audience.

III. The Linguistic Turn

“You people are the result of well made lines your father gave your mother(or vice versa) like “Honey, let’s fuck” then and there you are the product of a line called “lust” or “love”, "libog" or "pag-ibig"

The scandalized crowd reacted with a noise. The bank teller’s “excuse me” was not heard.

“but, that’s not a li-“ protested the waiter/philosopher but stopped when one of the batutas (nightsticks) pointed at him.

Manong guard/orator raised his open hand and Order was restored: “Allow me to continue”

“Now you’re alive and will make lines for a living. To teach your child to draw straight lines, to draw curved lines, to understand these lines to make words.”

“and these words will tell him how to be a boy, her how to be a girl, to make them straight and how to fall in line as we have been taught ourselves”

“YES!" his voice resonated throughout the entire bank "lines bring order!”, a 2 second pause ”A line always leads somewhere until it creates a circle- a unity that only God in heaven can comprehend"

"that line, ladies and gents, damas y caballeros, bubulog and babalasang" no one laughed

"That line is the Grand Design! “

His audience showed faces and made sounds - of doubt( ergo sum ). The teller/ninja involuntarily left for the comfort room...unnoticed.

Manong was unfazed,

“If all of you went to the teller at the same time, do you think she will entertain you? “,no one answered "lines.." he answered himself.

“what then, is a deadline?” interpolated the Waiter/Writer as he stepped out of the line.

IV. Zen of the Boarding House

“ah, that is not a line but an empty space” began the Landlady.

“You see, everything comes from empty space and returns to empty space like lines ending in vanishing points-ask an architect”

The landlady raised her eyebrows at the guard/gentleman(?). The nightstick did not move.

Victorious, Landlady went on : “You need an empty sheet of paper to teach your child to write lines, a blank sheet to pour all the ink heavy with your grief of waiting for your failure to fail and a blank check for your money. You need an empty bed-space for your line-waiting family to live on, an empty lot to build your house, an empty house to put your home, a job vacancy for you to fill in…”

“All that until you become an emptiness yourself, the home becomes just a house, your position becomes vacant, your blank-sheet of paper sundered as bonfire starter while death and decay reduces your own body to empty space…so that somebody will have a home, somebody will have a job and will have his blank sheet and blank check, somebody will have space for life.“

The teller/ninja returned..still unnoticed.

V. Coup D Grace.

“We exist for emptiness, take this bank, it exists only because of its emptiness, do you think it can contain all the money and empty people, I mean people, if it is not empty? Look at the doors, their main function is to be empty so that people could pass. The worth of boarding house and room is measured by how large their empty spaces are. “

It was near 3:00 pm. of Friday and some rays of the sun entered the cold bank.

“Be not afraid of emptiness, do not yearn for lavish mausoleums and imaginary mansions. How ironic that some who are dead have better houses than those who are living, we are already overpopulated with the dead… Others who are always filled with wishes for the mansion (imaginary or not), fail to empty themselves to contain the only beauty containable- the moment… accept without remorse, your return to emptiness only then can you have life and no longer have to wait in line”

“so why wear a make-up?” Manong Guard rebelled.

IV. Closing Remarks

“Excuse me” thundered the teller/ninja who was standing with impatience. They looked at her(also wearing make-up).

And Teller/Ninja/God spoke “We close at 3pm“

“if you would rather talk than transact, then step out of the line and out of this bank. Come back on Monday or don't come back at all”, and to the guard: “You're tired of your job?”

A humbled and humiliated silence pervaded the bank. And for an extended moment, the place sounded empty. Manong Guard went back to his post.

And "They" were in line - waiting once again.