Monday, October 29, 2007

Purple finger

I swam across a hundred of people. The tide was strong: Some knew me, some acting as if they knew me and some just wanted to give me a piece of paper. A small photocopied paper containing a smiling picture of someone I don't even know was my neighbor.

I estimated that I won't reach my destination with all the hindrances, so I began to lie. "Tapos na po ako Manong", "Naalala ko po Manang", "Uy nasulat ko name niya!"

I got inside the class room soaked with sweat; probably from guilt of lying. I fell in line with familiar faces; the owner of the Sari Sari Store, The siga and the barangay midwife.

My number was asked; My ID wasn't. "Ikaw si 141, Aida Sandagon?" Wow, I suddenly looked like my Mom.

"Hindi po, 140 po Ryan Sandagon". She stared at me, as if waiting for a joke. I was about to think something bad about the person asking my number when I realized that she was a teacher in a school I admire since Elementary. So I smiled the thoughts away.

She placed ink marks on my index finger and handed me a small paper.

I sat on a corner so no one would see me. I pretended looking in the lists, pretended writing and stood up.

Once again, I voted abstain.

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