the population is exploding, the internet and mobile phones have interconnected people, yet amid the noise of the crowd, there is an eerie silence inside, of being alone, and detached. and this is more true in urban centers than in the rural areas. the more crowded the area, the more tragic the sense of isolation.
I arrived in Los Angeles on March 2000. As the plane was descending into the LAX airport, I glanced at the wide expanse below, and yes, there was a sea of tall buildings there. As I stepped out of the airport, I realized that indeed, the six-lane road only confirmed what I saw above. Cagayan de Oro, my place of residence, is way behind by decades in terms of size, infra, population, and modernity.
I had a busy first month. Since, I went there with my family, there was fun and excitement in going to places I only heard of before, like the Disneyland, Griffith Park, Universal Studio, the famous Sta. Monica Beach, and so on. There was always something the eyes could feast on. LA is eons ahead of my place.
Yet, after satiating the senses, the soul has to be nourished. After the excitement of seeing new places, next came reality: the need to commune with people. This is basic human need that dates back even at the Garden of Eden, when it was shown that the first man could not live by paradise alone. Man is incomplete without the company of fellow humans.
After a month, I longed to talk to people other than our host and members of my family. We were staying in an apartment. In the compound, there were many apartments. So I often went out of the apartment waiting for any neighbor to come out from their main doors so that i could strike a conversation, and hopefully start a friendship. They did come out of their doors. To my dismay, from the main doors, they went directly to their garage, started the engine of their cars, then sped away. For several mornings, I did the routine. But there was not a neighbor I was able to talk to because they were always in a hurry.
Way back in my birthplace, a small barangay, with a population of not more than 500, everybody was a friend. We all had one activity, either a benefit dance, Sunday mass, basketball game, or a patin-tero at night when the moon shone. When somebody died, everybody would vigil. If there would be marriage, everybody would eat in the banquet. Our lives revolved our place. We had only one community, and everybody belonged to it. No one was isolated.
While there in LA, on week-ends, I would go to the public plaza where there are at least six tennis courts. I love to play tennis. I would bring along my tennis gears. But, in my almost two months stay there, I was not able to play a single game. There were tennis players, but they came to the tennis courts in pairs. As soon as they arrive, they play one or two games, and off they went. Once, twice, or thrice, I tried to approach them, but except for few exchanged words, there was nothing of substance. Like the neighbors in the compound, they too were in a hurry.
After almost two months, we went back to the Philippines. We arrived in Cagayan de Oro City early morning. By lunch, I called my tennis buddies, and arranged with them for tennis matches in the afternoon. We did play in the afternoon after which we drunk beers. Alas, I was back in my community.
Our host in LA was Aunt Nice. She has been in LA since 1993 until now. She would call – up by phone and talk to my wife, my kids, and me. She would talk over the phone for hours without stopping. When she wanted to talk to me, I usually cut short our conversation and give the phone to my kids. I could hear them giggling as if they were talking face to face. After my LA experience though, I don’t cut short anymore our phone conversation. I realized that, even after almost two decades, she has no community there. Her community is still in the Philippines, us.
Joanne, a cousin-in-law, has also resided in the US for six years now. When I am online in the office, her video camera would pop-up, and our chatting would take my working time. But having understood that she too has no community in the US, I oblige with the chatting.
There are countless souls out there, regardless of age, color, origin, and place. They too live in a place where they don’t belong, where they have no community. They remain alone in a crowded mall. They remain solitary souls in the sea of humanity.
A month ago, i saw a stranger in the tennis court . He had been sitting in one corner for more than an hour already, with no one to talk to. He had complete tennis gears. I approached him, and asked if we could play. He leaped from the corner, and with beaming eyes he blurted, “Sure”.
After a month, the stranger is not anymore a nameless face. He is now one of us. He is now in our community.
If only we open the gates of our small communities.
