The Cake That Wasn't

I had my blog post planned out on the commute home. In keeping with the permeating theme that is Valentine's Day, I was supposed to pose questions about what keeps ladies of today from giving guys like me a fighting chance and all that. I figured my evening to go like this: swing by the local cake shop, get a nice Valentine's cake for the family, then go home to write.

Yeah, I obviously am on my continuing streak of Valentine's solitude. 29 years and counting, yo! :D

No, not really, but what the hell. Credit: DeviantArt

So there I was, thinking of how the post should go (and eventually going another avenue altogether as I ramble on while actually typing) while enjoying a quick snack of street food (tonight's selection was toknene, essentially boiled egg covered in some colored flour batter and fried - I like mine with onions and vinegar) at our local wet market when I saw an old lady of about 75 years of age going around and begging for change from the many people in the busy market.

Now, beggars aren't really anything out of the ordinary in wet markets in Metro Manila. With poverty remaining more or less steady (with slight increases or decreases in the number of poor, depending on who you ask), it's a common sight to see beggars going around public places here.

But, here's the thing. I have a really soft spot for old people.

See? Grandmas are awesome. (Credit: Some Japanese guy's site)

For one, the young and the middle-aged can still find gainful employment, if not now, at some point in the future, granted they apply themselves and opportunities open up. The old people, on the other hand, unless they were able to work long enough and in decent employment to be covered by the pension system or they have family and relatives to lean on, they have little else to turn to in the twilight years of their lives. And, unlike, say, Singapore where local companies are willing to hire geriatrics (you see quite a number of them working as service crews), Philippine companies, no matter how much they say they're for equal treatment of applicants, they're highly discriminatory in hiring service crew members, which is basically the sort of employment that old people can still excel in, barring special talents (i.e. Hawking and the like).

Seriously, I don't even know why it's so important for a service crew member to be single in addition to the age restriction. Is this secretly a personals ad? (Source: Jobstreet)

And on a more personal note, my thing for old people also stem from having wonderful grandparents, one who still lives with us here at home. So I see a bit of them in kindly geriatrics I encounter in my day-to-day commutes.

So, yeah, going back to the old lady at the market, she was gingerly walking to people, lightly tapping them on the shoulder, slowly extending her frail hand palm up, and mustering a weak smile as she makes her plea for change. Tonight, it doesn't seem like she's doing well. Her pleas were met with one or a combination of the following: a withering stare (as if she wronged the people), flat out ignorance (as if she wasn't there at all), and/or moving away from her (as if she had leprosy). I can understand not wanting to give money, but can you at least be polite in saying no to someone who is actually pretty polite herself, even pleasant, in begging?

My heart was breaking at this point.

I don't always give alms to the poor - this is mostly because many beggars here are handled by callous syndicates, so only a small percent of a syndicate-controlled beggar's collection is given to them. This old lady didn't feel like one of those beggars, though - the attempts to be pleasant speaks of a decent person who simply fell down on her luck in life and possibly have no more relatives left to help her.

I dug into my bag to fish for money to give her and found a couple of loose change. The only money I had left were that, a small bill (this is essentially my commute money home), and the money I plan to buy a cake with. I scooped up the loose change, then paused to think.

You know what, it's fucking Valentine's, this old lady has been shuffling around for quite some time begging as people treat her like some diseased soul, and in spite of all that, she still manages to put on a weak, if increasingly pained, smile as she asks for money from the next person she approaches. If no one can spare even politeness and money for her, then I will. She deserves something for keeping dignified and civil in spite of all her troubles.

I muttered to myself, "Sorry family, I love you guys, but your cake will have to wait," then fished out a hundred pesos from my bag. Yes, that is a small pittance (roughly about US$2.50) to people living in first-world countries, but for someone like me who will be jobless in a month's time without any leads on where to next latch on to and in the Philippines in general, it's a fairly substantial amount. And it's even more substantial for the old lady, as that would allow her to at least eat well on a Friday evening, treat herself to something nice this one time and not worry about tonight.

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I approached her and noticed bandage wrapping at her ankles. No wonder she's walking gingerly. It's not just the ravages of time that slowed her, but an ailing injury as well. I tapped her on the shoulder and said "Nanay, ito po." ("Auntie, here" - nanay actually directly translates to mother, but the better translation would be auntie in this case, in the Philippines it's more reverential to the elderly women to call them nanay rather than the local term for auntie, which is tita) as I placed the bill into her hand.

She looked at the bill in her hand and then her face turned to me with a look that's partly relieved, thankful, happy, and, here's what really gets to me, almost into tears. She was smiling that weak smile, only slightly wider this time, and her eyes got misty. I don't know if it's simply because she's overjoyed, or perhaps she's also moved by the thought that someone finally took notice of her, that someone cared for her when she had no one to do so this close to Valentine's.

She kept repeating "Maraming salamat, iho" ("Thank you child") to me and at this point, my heart was swelling with joy, that even with a small token of gesture, I was able to give happiness to an old lady who has close to nothing. I was also getting carried away by her misty eyes, though, as my eyes were starting to wet, too, so I had to get with my commute home. As I said my goodbye to the lady, I smiled back and waved at her. As I flagged down a jeepney, I looked back at her and she was still standing there, looking at me with as big a smile as she could muster and waved as vigorously as her frail arms could muster. I waved back, boarded the jeepney, and felt like a million dollars.

I may be loveless still, but I can definitely say that my experience today can hold its own against others' experiences with their special someone this season of hearts. No box of JCO donuts Conti's cake (I don't see the allure with JCO donuts), beach trip, or even hot steamy passionate action can replace my memory of today.

I write this not to make myself into some sort of hero. I'm not. I'm a terrible human being at times, which is probably why no one wants to go out with me. I write this more as an anecdote to share with you, so that we could all try to be pleasant towards one another, and to see that even doing small things for others could mean the world to them.

Happy Valentine's Day, guys.

And to my family, don't worry. The cake is still forthcoming. :)