Jueteng is waiting

By Manuel P. Biason

 

IT’S gone. It’s over. It’s dead. But not forever. Like the dreaded cancer remission, it is now hibernating, waiting for the right time to resurrect and strike, again. But not while Pnoy is the president, and while Bishop Oscar Cruz is still breathing and can still blow the whistle.

This is Jueteng, the provenance of which most of us do not even know. It is the most popular and unpopular form of illegal gambling which has haunted Philippine communities since time immemorial.

Thanks to Bishop Oscar Cruz whose tenacious hot-pursuit against it has finally paid off. Thanks also to Pnoy who is on a clean-all mode and for backing up the bishop’s crusade to detoxify our communities with the pernicious effects of this public-official friendly but unlawful game of luck

Two men who are both paragons of virtue and seekers of righteousness have come together not physically, but by principle, to work separately and on different ways to fix a broken system, put things in order, and mend a much and lengthily tortured society, for you and me and for those after us. It is no secret that both men scorn and disdain Jueteng because of the wickedness it brings that pollutes the social fiber of the nation.

Coincidentally, both are single but one is barred from getting a wife. Darn with celibacy.

In the meantime, and during the hiatus, Jueteng czars, their lieutenants and all the Jueteng-money suckers who are mostly public officials and officers who used to wallow on Jueteng largesse must do some belt-tightening while Jueteng is frozen. They might learn to be austere a bit and try to be ascetic such that the construction of the multi-million peso house being built just suddenly halt. The frequent lavish and bacchanalian parties should ne dropped. Family vacations abroad must be canceled, and the yet-to-be-paid BMW and the Lexus must go back to the bank, all because no Jueteng money is flowing in to pay for them. Don’t they deserve more and even worse than these? How about the old style guillotine? Ooops, no more death penalty, manaya… Oh, but I’m sorry however for the small collector (kobrador) who, at this moment I could imagine, is staring outside the window of his ramshackle house figuring out where to get the next meal for his family. Go fishing my friend. Or drive a tricycle, but don’t rob a bank. Ansakita maong, laki Islao.

I confess that I too had my own anecdotal experience about Jueteng. I was hooked to it many years ago when I was in fourth grade up until I was in grade six. Three years. The fantasy of winning seventy pesos for each cent I bet was so enticing to resist. As an allowance-starved boy, I would bet every loose coin I could pick (or steal) from my father’s pocket (I was never caught) at least two or three times a week hoping that the kobrador would bring home my fat bacon. But guess what, the bacon never came. Nunca. Three years of pick-pocketing (only from my father’s deep pocket) and betting and hoping and what did I get? Maybe it was my fault after all because I was not adept enough in pairing numbers and understand their meaning which Jueteng is all about. What brings the fortune is the pair of winning numbers derived from their meanings and Jueteng players are very sharp in interpreting the meaning of each Jueteng number from 1 to 37, the last number a bettor can bet on.  For instance, number 1 speaks of snake, 3 is dog, 14 is house, 35 is crazy and 37 is old woman. So a snake in the house is 1 & 14., and a crazy dog is 3 & 35. Picked numbers could be inspired by either last night’s dream, or by an unusual experience of the day. Dream of a big old woman and your numbers are 18 & 37.

Think of an unmarried lady taking a shower and your number is 24 & 4. Number 4 is water and an unmarried woman is 24.

Like many bettors, I too had a few favored pair of numbers, the game is simply processed this way: Two pencil head size balls containing two numbers are drawn from a wick bottle and whoever made bet on these two numbers win. My favorite combination was 18 & 30, whose meaning is obscene that your mother will kill you if you whisper to her their meaning.

Anyway, my three years of Jueteng addiction yielded this score: Winnings: Zero, nada, zeiflucken, anggapo, awan. Not even a penny. Losses: 2 or 3 pocketful of nickels and dimes, who knows? Plus an endless string of frustrated hopes wrapped by soured fantasies: And tons of luck – which never worked.

Do I still bet today? Yes, I bet to beat the hell out of it!

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