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  MYRNA CRUZ (HINDI PO KATHANG ISIP ANG MABABASA NINYO.) 
Personal Stories and ExperiencesBy: Bebang Siy

Mahigit nang isang buwan mula nang magbigay ng lecture ang LIRA* sa Philippine Orthopedic Hospital sa tulong ng isa sa pinakamababait na doktor na nakilala ko, si Dr. Rafael S.Claudio. Sept. 22, 2004 iyon. Birthday ni Prof. Rene O. Villanueva, ang aming guest lecturer kaya’t espesyal talaga ang araw na iyon. Ang audience namin: matatanda’t batang bone cancer survivors. Ang paksa ng LIRA lecture: pagkatha ng tulang pambata.

Ako ang pinaka-excited sa lahat dahil sa activity naming ito bukod sa nai-promote ang pagtula, alam kong makakatulong kami kahit papaano, kahit sa maliit na paraan. Hindi ba parang malayong makadaupang palad mo ang bone cancer survivors kung ang organisasyon mo e abalang-abala sa anyo at nilalaman ng tula? Pero kita n’yo, narito nga ang LIRA at nakasama ako!

Sa umpisa ng lecture, hindi kami (ako at si Jeff, LIRA officer) magkandaugaga sa paghanap ng white board. Sa tulong ng isang taga-maintainance dept., nakakuha kami ng de-gulong na white board na nakatago sa pambabaeng CR. At natuloy naman ang akala nami’y palpak dahil-walang-masusulatan-ng-notes-ang-lecturer na lecture. Ipinakilala ni Sir Rene ang mga salitang taludtod, saknong, pantig, tugma at iba pa sa mga bone cancer survivors. Nakakasunod naman sila dahil para sa beginners ang ipinagawa niya. Maya-maya lamang, nagpa-piano na ang ilan sa kanila. (Pag nagbibilang ka ng pantig, hindi mo maiwasan ang magpiano.)

Di nagtagal at nagdeklara ng recess si Sir Rene. Nagrequest ang dalawang babaeng bone-cancer survivors na samahan sila sa CR. Ako ang nagtulak sa wheel chair ni Cecille at si Jeff naman kay Ana. Pumunta kami sa pinakamalapit na CR, kung saan namin nakuha ang de-gulong na white board. Noon ko lang napansing bago ito ngunit mukhang hindi ginagamit o hindi pa ginamit EVER. Ginawang tambakan lang ng sirang silya, pambomba sa baradong kubeta, karton at iba pa.

Atras ang grupo namin. Tinunton namin ang daan papunta sa pinakamalapit na nurses’ station. Hindi sila nakangiti nang ibigay ang direksiyon ng isa pang CR. Hindi ko na pinansin. Nagmamadali kami. Pagpasok sa ward na iyon, parang nagtime space warp. Kuminis ang mga pader, nagka-pintura. Umaliwalas ang mga kuwarto, nagkakurtina pa yung ibang bintana. Sa tapat ng nurses’ station ng Ward 2, ang ward na animo’y sumulpot sa giray-giray na ospital na ‘yon, naroon ang CR na class ang dating. Ang tiles, yung tipong minomodel ni Kris Aquino. Pag tapat namin sa pinto ng CR, may humarang na isang matandang babae at sinita kami ng isang nurse.

“Excuse me, excuse me! Anong ward kayo?”

Lingunan ang mga tao sa katabing kuwarto.

“Hindi ko po alam, e.” (hindi ko talaga alam kung anong ward ni Cecille, hindi ko naisip na itanong.)

“Anong hindi mo alam?”

“Diyan ho kami sa may conference room. May lecture kami at nagkataong ito ang itinuro sa amin!”

“ Bawal kayong gumamit ng CR dito.”

“Itinuro lang po kami rito kasi ‘yong CR na malapit sa amin, walang tubig.”

“Wala ring tubig diyan.”

Habang sinasabi niya ito, nagpipiyesta ang tiles ng kubetang iyon sa tubig na umaapaw dahil nagsosolo ang timbang nakasahod sa todo-bukas na gripo.

“E, ano ho ‘yong naririnig ko?”

“Ngayon lang nagkatubig diyan!”

“Pasyente naman ho sila rito, a!”

Lumalabas ang pagka-amasona ko, a.

“Bawal nga! Kung anong ward n’yo, doon kayo gumamit ng kubeta.”

“Sa female ward ako. Sa baba,” ang hina-hina ng boses ni Cecille. Siguro nanghihina na siya sa kapipigil ng ihi niya o baka hiyang hiya na siya dahil nakatitig sa amin ang mga taong lumabas pa ng kuwarto para maki-usyoso. Parang sabi ng tingin nila, YOU DON’T BELONG HERE NGA NAMAN!

“Hindi puwede! Doon kayo! Doon kayo sa ward n’yo!”

Siyet. Ang damot.

“Nandito na nga pabababain n’yo pa ho ba kami? Naiihi na itong kasama ko.”

“Walang mangyayari sa CR na ‘yan kung lahat na lang makikigamit.”

“Hindi naman namin sinasadyang…”

“O, o, sige, sige, ‘wag ka na ngang mangatwiran! Sige na. Gumamit na kayo! MagCR na!”

Siyet. Bastos. Utang na loob ko pa?

“Hindi ho ako nagpipilit na magCR dito. Dito ho kami itinuro kaya napunta kami rito.”

“’Wag ka na ngang mangatwiran, e! Sige na! Sige na!” Tumilapon ang kamay niyang parang nagbubugaw ng langaw.

Nagtimpi ako. Hindi ako ‘yon. Hindi ako mapagtimpi pero alang-alang kay Cecille na kulay talong na, di ko lang alam kung dahil ba sa pagpigil ng wiwi o kaya sa pagkapahiya, e nirolyo ko ang dila ko. At ipinasok ko siya sa CR. Namarkahan ng gulong ng wheelchair niya ang mamahaling tiles. Natagalan kami sa loob dahil putol ang isang paa ni Cecille, mula sa hita. ‘Yong paglipat niya mula sa wheelchair papunta sa toilet bowl, ilang minuto na. Dagdag-hirap pa ang dextrose na hindi ko talaga binitawan kahit ngalay na ngalay ang kilikili ko.

Kailangan light pa rin ang dating ko. Putsa, Bebang, bone cancer survivor ‘yang kaharap mo. ‘Wag mong dagdagan ang galit sa dibdib niyan. Kaya kahit naghuhuramentado ang bagang ko, pinasimple ko ang lahat. “Grabe sila, ano?”

At habang binabalanse ang sarili sa nag-iisang paa para ayusin ang shorts niya, nagsalita si Cecille, “ganyan talaga sila rito.”

Nagmadali kaming lumabas. Naisip ko si Ana. Hindi puwedeng pumasok ng CR si Jeff. Hindi kayang magCR ni Ana mag-isa. Putol din ang isang paa niya. Paglabas namin, nasa dulo na sila ng ward. Sabi ni Ana, ayaw na niyang umihi. Hindi naman daw siya ihing ihi. Iniwan ko si Cecille kasama nila. Bumalik ako sa nurses’ station ng ward 2 para kunin ang pangalan ng bago kong best friend.

“Ano nga hong pangalan n’yo?”

“O, eto, eto! Hindi ka makakapagreklamo!”

Idinuldol niya ang ID niya sa akin. MYRNA CRUZ.

“A, hindi ho ako magre-reklamo. Irerekomenda ko nga kayo kasi ang ganda ho ng ginawa n’yo sa amin!”

Siyet. Nakalimutan ko na ang mabuting asal na natutunan ko sa nanay ko, sa tatay ko, sa lolo’t lola ko, sa bible and values formation subject ko, sa legion of mary, sa…..

“Ganon? Ikaw! Ikaw naman! Akin na ang pangalan mo!” Nanginginig ako habang isinusulat ko ang pangalan ko sa kapirasong papel.

“Ano pa ho ang kailangan n’yong impormasyon?”

“Lahat-lahat ng tungkol sa’yo!”

At isinulat ko sa papel na ‘yon kung ano lang ang kasya: buong pangalan ko, address ng opisina namin at lahat ng contact numbers ko. Hindi ko na isinama ang vital statistics ko, ang blood type ko, kung sino ang first kiss ko dahil mahaba ang pangalan niya at ang sagot ko sa tanong na what is love. Tapos tumakbo na ako palayo. Kung magtatagal pa ako, baka bugahan ko na siya ng apoy. Magtututong ang suot niyang puting cap. Bumalik kaming apat sa conference room na parang walang nangyari.

Inasikaso ko ang pagdistribute ng meryendang choco roll at pansit with pusit. Cool lang ako. Hindi ko puwedeng sirain ang araw na iyon dahil lang sa isang Myrna Cruz. Masaya kaming kumanta ng hapi bertdey at kumain pagkatapos. Maya-maya’y nagpatuloy ang lecture ni Sir Rene. Pinagagawa na sila ng taludtod na may iba’t ibang katangian nang senyasan ako ni Cecille. Lumapit ako. Naiihi na raw si Ana! Maingat kong itinulak ang wheelchair niya palabas.

“Diyan na lang ako, Ate, ” inginuso ni Ana ang CR na ginawang tambakan. Bumalik ako sa conference room para maghagilap ng tissue at doon nga kami tumuloy. Nagpacontest ako kung aling toilet bowl ang pinakamalinis pero mahigpit ang laban. Pare-parehong siyudad ng mikrobyo. Triple tie!

Si Ana na lang ang pinapili ko. Tiyak, papanghi ang CR na ‘yon. Walang tubig, e. Magalit na sila kung magalit. Ayaw naman nilang ipagamit ang CR na kumukutitap sa ganda. At masyadong malaking abala kung bababa pa kami sa ward ni Ana. Mag-eelevator pa at malayo-layo rin daw. Isa pa, sa tono ng wiwi ni Ana, mukhang hindi na niya kayang pigilin ito hanggang makarating kami sa tamang lugar.

Tahimik si Ana. Habang patalon-talon siya para makabalik sa wheelchair, may tumatalon-talon ding bikig sa lalamunan ko. Nabanaag ko kasi sa batang mukha niya ‘yong napansin ko rin sa mukha ni Cecille kanina: resignation. Parang sinasabi, “pasensiya ako. Tiis na lang. Ganito talaga rito.”

Natapos ang lecture nang wala ng ibang kahindik-hindik na pangyayari.

Pero ako, mahigit isang buwan nang tapos ang lecture, kahindik-hindik pa rin ang pakiramdam sa tuwing maaalala si Myrna Cruz. Ang weird kasi. Ako, excited na excited makatulong kahit sa maliit na paraan. Siya? Hindi na nga actually tulong yung gagawin niya, kahit call of duty na lang na paihiin yung pasyente, hindi pa ginawa. O tinanggihan pang gawin. Maiintindihan ko pa ‘yang Myrna Cruz na ‘yan kung ako ang nagpunta roon para umihi. E, malakas pa ako sa kalabaw! Itaboy man niya ako sa CR na ‘yon, baka paistaran ko pa siyang kaya kong maglambitin hanggang sa susunod na CR, ala-Spiderman. Pero ang ipinagtabuyan niya, literal na ipinagtabuyan niya, e bone cancer survivors, namumutla, kalbo (dahil sa proseso ng treatment sa kanila), naka-wheelchair, me dextrose, putol ang isang paa. Kapwa babae, kapwa Filipino, kapwa tao.

Masayahin ako pero pag naiisip ko kung ilang Myrna Cruz pa ang naglipana diyan sa tabi-tabi, nahihilam ang mata ko sa luha. Nakakaiyak ‘to di ba? Kahit siguro si Mang Dolphy, e mawawalan ng sense of humor sa ganitong eksena. Ikaw, ilang Myrna Cruz na ang nakilala mo?

-bebang siy

*LIRA-Linangan sa Imahen, Retorika at Anyo-isang organisasyon ng mga makatang nagsusulat sa wikang Filipino.

Posted on Wednesday, October 27 @ 12:44:11 CDT by don
 
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Re: MYRNA CRUZ (HINDI PO KATHANG ISIP ANG MABABASA NINYO.) (Score: 1)
by Don (don@tspam.me) on Wednesday, October 27 @ 14:02:58 CDT
(User Info | Send a Message) http://trehb101.com
I realize that we have some readers that are not that fluent in Filipino so here is a little gist of the story above written by Bebang Siy. Ms. Siy is a member of an organization called LIRA (Linangan sa Imahen, Retorika at Anyo or Learning for Image, Rhetoric and Form), which is a group of young poets writing in Filipino. They provide workshops allow you listen to and interact with our country's notable poets in Filipino. In the story above Ms. Siy and her group with the help of a Dr. Rafael S. Claudio provided a lecture headed by Prof. Rene O. Villanueva for a group of bone cancer survivors in the Philippine Orthopedic Hospital. Please note my little translation here is just a summary and it does not really give justice on the way Ms. Siy wrote her sentiments, which involved some humor, sarcasm and thoughtfulness on the entire story. If somebody wants to translate word per word, or perhaps Ms. Siy herself put it in her own words in English, please feel free to post.

The group ran into some issues including not finding a white board for the lecturer to write on. They finally found one in an old rest room that has been tranformed into a defacto junk storage. The restroom does not have any running water and has been neglected for quite sometime. The lecture finally went on without a hitch with the participants enjoying and learning greatly. During a break, Ms. and a companion Jeff went to help two of the patients to go to the restroom. And since the restroom that is close to them is out of commission, they were directed to a another restroom in another ward.

This is when they ran into Myrna Cruz, an elder nurse who was adamant on not letting them use the only working restroom. After a few moments of arguing with and berating from the inhospitable nurse and with the two bone cancer survivors trying their best to be calm and hold their pee, the woman gave way, but not without giiving them any rude treatment and attitude. One of the patients, Cecile just quietly went on to the restroom with the help of Ms. Siy and in a defeated manner just accepted the rudeness of Myrna Cruz. Ana, the other patient, just decided her need was not worth the antagonism and asked Jeff who was assisting her to just bring her back to the conference room. She could hold on for a little longer.

During the second part of the lecture, Ana really needed to go, so Ms. Siy assisted her. The incident with Myrna Cruz still fresh in her memory, she asked Ms. Siy to just assist her in the old delapitated restroom with no running water. Ms. Siy just went got herself some toilet paper. In the said restroom, the place was so neglected that the toilets were very dirty, but Ana would rather take the grime than to face Myrna Cruz again.
This truly bothered our writer, Bebang Siy. At how defeated the bone cancer survivors feel and how they would not rather deal with the sorry attitudes of people like Myrna Cruz who failed to understand the need of these folks.

For me personally, this story bothered me as well, as a nation and as a people we are known for our hospitality. It is natural for many Filipinos to accept a guest and give everything he/she has to make his/her guest comfortable. But there is also a different side to this story, it is often that many folks like Myrna Cruz tend to forget to be hospitable to those who truly needs their help. I have ran into many folks like Myrna Cruz, how about you?


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