The Wisdom of the Old Man

The morning was still dusky as it rained the whole night. The usual, I had to wait at the side of the road for the sole jeepney that passes by daily to fetch the earliest birds.

When you do something on a very regular basis, the feeling becomes more and more familiar and you get used to it. So is getting used to the faces that you rub elbows with, (literally inside the jeepney).

Amusing it is that you almost memorize who will jump into the vehicle at the specific areas where they wait, and who will have to board off when they reach their final destination.

That makes a routine.

However, things sometimes surprise you in your most unguarded moments.

One of the familiar faces I see on a daily basis is that of this man who is somewhere or above his 50s, I guess. Judging from the looks, he seems part of the labor sector. Though it is a bit dark, I can sense the wrinkles on his forehead and his tired limbs. His crooked back when he sits down tells he had worked hard all his life, or a big part of it.

I usually don’t mind whether there are other people around when I wait at that corner in the morning. Unless, he talks to me, then I would have to be polite in the best way that I can and reply.

Cut the story short, he started asking me some basic questions - where I work, my salary, and the like.

I thought it would end there. But he started convincing me of the irregularities he see in the labor sector.

He argued companies don’t put their employees on regular status to avoid the benefits they would deserve. He asked me about my salary, how much I spend for food and commuting, how much deductions are taken from the minimal amount that I earn, among other things that I don’t clearly recall. They were known facts to me already but with this man reiterating them, I can only grow more pimples on my forehead.

He then muttered about his observations on working in the government, like in departmental agencies or government units. He seemed to have grudges that many government employees were reliant on their “backdoor” connections. The sad part, though, is being fired out that easy when your connections lose their connections to the ones seated.

We call this the Padrino system. I know this for a fact because a few of my not-close relatives are working in the govt. I have also availed of the summer job program in my municipality before, and have observed some practices I’d rather be silent about.

All the while, I was only listening to the wisdom of the old man. There were glimpses of truth in what he said. There were strong convictions. There were brave accusations as well.

At the end of all his sad realizations, he told me I am young, and there’s way to go.

He was a message.

His thoughts were showing me the downside of the hill. A neophyte in the world of labor, I needed the reality in all that he was saying.

The situation is there.

What can we do? He is at the base of the society as I am. Sad it may be but we are both specks of dust. Not that I am belittling our capability to create change but the real world is harsh indeed.

Nonetheless, specks of dust, however tiny they may be, can be big enough to make someone see more clearly.

And then the jeep came, we both hopped in to face the realities of our separate lives.