Tuesday 29 January 2013

Dinagyangman

fiction by Roger B Rueda

Crowds of people poured into the streets of Iloilo City Centre. I pushed my way through them. It was hot and getting hotter. There was a great crash and then a long roll of drums. The first tribe to perform was something to get excited about. My camera started clicking as soon as the tribe stepped in the performing area. I didn’t bring anything except my Galaxy S3 – I was well aware of pickpockets.

I entered into the spirit of the occasion and stood beside a man who was beside himself with excitement. He turned to look at me. I smiled at him. His eyes smiled up at me.

I was all alone in the middle of the crowds, enjoying my life as throughout the street, the views were a constant source of surprise and delight, vibrant rhythms all over.

‘Excuse me,’ the crowd were enormously enthusiastic, so it was not easy to get through. The heat and the noise made me sleepy. I began to get dizzy spells. I looked at him again; his neck had henna tattoo. He winked at me, as if he knew I was thinking the same thing that he was.

I took a step away from him, but his face lingered on in my mind. I walked away, eyes shut, body tense. I began to perspire heavily.  My skin was tanned and glowing from my day at the Dinagyang.

I edged a little closer to some buildings. I trudged wearily down Mapa Street. After quenching my thirst with a long drink of cold water, I needed to snack on some sandwich and tea. All the shops were congested with spectators.

I went in a small café in a lobby of a small hotel. I sat in the corner and browsed through the pages of a magazine, some newspapers lying on a nearby couch. I had been to the café several times, so it was such a comfortable haunt to me already. The server appeared. ‘Do you have Darjeeling?’ He nodded and smiled.

After a few minutes of sipping at my tea, fresh groups of guest arrived. Suddenly, the lobby got crowded and noisy. Judging from their looks, it seemed they were all worn-out. After drinking cans of juice, they noisily slipped away. One guy came and sat down on the couch. His breath came in short pants. He turned his head left to right. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that I was looking at him. I was painfully shy of him – he was the guy I had seen in the crowd. The tea gave me a choking fit.

I turned my chair to face the door and continued with my reading.

‘I’m Ralph,’ he tapped me on the shoulder. He had a big smile on his face. I gave him a hearty handshake. He stood still for longer than a few minutes – it was quite a shock to meet a handsome man with a beautiful voice. Then, I had thought someone came to me, but it had just been a dream. Now, it was real.

‘Please take a seat.’ I smiled warmly so he wouldn't see my nervousness. We exchanged addresses and numbers. He ordered a beer and a sandwich.

We chatted about many things. He was quite an interesting man. We eyed each other thoughtfully.

‘Where are you from?’ I asked.  I was intensely curious about the world he came from.

‘I am from San Miguel.’ I didn’t know much of San Miguel. I only knew one there – Rowena, my co-worker.

‘How about you?’ He lifted the beer can to his lips and sipped.

‘I’m from Mandurriao.’ I bit into my sandwich. ‘Manduarriao and San Miguel are cheek by jowl.’

‘So how’s the Dinagyang?’ he asked. ‘I like the Panayanon,’ he added.

‘Romel Flogen choreographs the tribe,’ I told him as if he was from another city.

‘Really, I thought he choreographs the tribe from Fort Sant Pedro.’ He was curiously innocent about it. He brushed his hair back with both hands.

‘Yes, that was last year. See, now, that tribe isn’t joining. That’s why he accepted the job.’ I had to pause to clear my throat. I sipped at the cup and then put it down.

‘I’m really amazed by their performance. I thought the Panayanon is from Fort San Pedro.’ He sipped from his beer can, watching me over the rim.

‘Hahaha, it’s of the Iloilo City National High School.’ I laughed with pleasure. We got along famously.

‘I need to go,’ his iPhone was ringing off. He quickly gulped his beer. He said a hurried goodbye and walked out of the café.

‘I’ll be at the ASAP 18 later, at the sports complex. I think after I’ve eaten lunch,’ I called out as he was heading the main entrance of the hotel.


***

While I was lying in bed, my phone tweeted. ‘i’l b in smallville. jst mssge me wn ur thr. c u.’ I didn’t go to the sports complex. I got bored, thinking how crowded it was – it was like spending an hour or two in torment.

I had a shower and went out early – I needed to be there earlier than him. I fell under his spell, perhaps. There was something about him that mesmerised me, I thought.

It took a long time to wash the dirt out of my hair and my whole body. I wore my cleanest pants, a clean shirt and a navy blazer.

***
As one might expect, Smallville was full of partyers. The cars choked the roads. As the taxi drew off in front of Coffeebreak, I got off. I felt a little nervous. I was in a state of great excitement.

‘Vir,’ someone called out my name.  Ralph was sitting all alone at a table outside the coffee shop. He waved at me as if we were so familiar – as if we had met and known each other since long time ago.

‘Who’s with you?’ I greeted him with a smile.

‘No one.’ He looked at me openly.

I pulled a chair and sat facing him. ‘Wait a minute,’ I told him. ‘Do you want something?’

‘Just buy prune juice,’ he replied as I was meaning to stand.

I went in the coffee shop and ordered some Tuna Casserole and Hot Americano – and a bottle of prune juice. Ralph was busy surfing the Net looking for information on Korean music on his iPhone.

I went back too soon – the server was the one to bring all my orders.

‘Do you have a lover?’ he asked as I was trying to transfer my bag to the other chair.

I didn't say anything. Eventually I overcame my shyness.‘Ah, I had two – but now I don’t have. It has been years.’ I looked at him with all honesty.

The server laid all my orders on the table and handed the prune juice to Ralph as I told him.

‘Me, too,’ he mumbled as he was running his finger around the lip of the prune juice bottle. From time to time, he turned his attention back to the street.

We nattered into the night till a blue-grey dawn and till a spot of rain fell on his hand.

‘Let’s go,’ he suggested.  He dashed and locked himself in the small toilet of the coffee shop.

***

His car was parked up across the street towards MO2. ‘Let’s go to my car,’ he told me pointing his lips at the white Santa Fe. We crossed over and got in the car. He hugged me tightly to his chest and licked my lips.

When he started the car, which hummed smoothly, I was at sea about where we were heading. But I just committed myself to him, as if by instinct. I didn't know why I believed a stranger I’d never seen for my whole life. I was like a fluffy white cloud floating across the sky as the sun came out briefly. It was a breezy day. It was a scene of such sheer bliss.








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