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Terça-feira, Agosto 31, 2004

Defense Delayed For The Third Time

Still, I think it's a message from God. Time remains very persistent, but it seems like God is saying to us, "Wait a little, dearies. It isn't time for defense yet." So God let our clinical instructor attend some emergency meeting at 9a today. And it suddenly appeared to us that the defense at the health center has a 'No clinical instructor, no defense' policy.

Maybe He sees that had we pushed through with it today, we would've messed up badly. My entire body felt funny minutes after we arrived at Esperanza Health Center. It was my first time to experience my pair of legs wobble relentlessly while I was 'trying' to prepare my discussion. I was stuttering like mad in my practice speech. And I felt really hungry, albeit I have taken breakfast before leaving the house. Maybe it's the exhaustion. I've been awake for thirty-four hours and counting. The erg in me slowly fades away. I just got to have a bar of chocolate.

From the health center, we went to Budoy's place in Pandacan to revise whatever still needs to be revised. And during the moment we we're on our way to his house, I had ran across an extraordinary transit that could bring a strong, sudden adrenaline rush to your entire body. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's indeed much exhilarating than any other roller coaster ride. And it will only cost you seven buckaroos. My friends, I am referring to the indigenous trolley of the squatters along the railroad tracks. How I wish I could recount to you in detail how I really felt while I was seated along with the Mitochondria on that simple trolley, but I think even the best words could not come close to the thrill we'd just experienced. I recommend you to ride this piece of 'de-tulak' transportation at least once in your lifetime.

The trolley made me shriek like mad and feel pity ad nauseam. There's a point along the trip that the only thing that bridges the Pasig River was the old and rusty railway tracks. There's no other support besides the metal trails. You stoop directly, and you can see the dead, deep, and murky river right below you. You got no harness to keep you attached to the trolley. One stupid move, and you can fall directly to the stinky, water lily-covered water below. Eeew.

That aside, you also begin to humble yourself. You pass along the railroad, and you could see an authentic form of poverty. It's a staggering sight to see. I have never seen such place face to face. I realize how much blessed I am to be living away from this rundown area. Besides that, the scene struck me, being a student in a nursing profession. I had no idea how or why it actually hit me, but it did. And it hit me pretty hard. Sociologist Oscar Lewis devoted much of his lifetime studying the culture of poverty and being able to personally see the poor people living along the tracks, Lewis' thoughts seemed pristine to me now. Poverty indeed has a life of its own. It persists from generations to generations because of its effects on slum children.

By the way, I now wonder how Miss Vange Bengaro's doing. She was the sociology instructor who taught about Oscar Lewis' work. She has left the university last semester. Wala lang.


Carnaval took a nap at 7:10:00 PM

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