By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo

 

FOR reasons I cannot explain, I miss Professor Doctor Jose David Lapuz. Professor Doctor is the appellation he wanted to be called, and he always wore his 4” x 6” United Nations (UN) ID over his black unironed suit. He had these sheets of paper lumped in a bag together with an umbrella and a shawl, that he distributes, to enlighten his acquaintances about his professional work, and a printed copy of the press release on the year he was invited to the UN, several decades ago.

He intimated that he was a very close associate of the late Jose Maria C. Sison, founder the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP). They were former faculty members of the Department of Political Science, where Prof. Lapuz taught for 35 years (1971-2006). Both led colorful lives, at an age most people would wish for.  A search on Google reveal very interesting facets of his life.

He was a member of the International Visitor Leadership Program-Philippines (IVLP-Philippines), always being requested to shorten his lengthy reactions and comments during the Annual General Meetings (AGMs), and castigated all moderators, including Ramon Casiple, Chairperson of the IVLP, when he was politely requested to wind up. He was known for these long speeches, and while most listen with amusement for his retorts to continue, others would sneak out of the room to listen to more soothing sounds. I can still remember the beginning of one of his long speeches, “I remember deep in September …..” which can very well end up in September of the next year. He was a character that no one can ignore, eliciting emotions from negative to positive in varying degrees.

During his active years, he would call the IVLP office for a revision in a program, or for not replying to an email he just sent. All the Executive Assistants from Juvy Muncada to Ingrid Sison, had difficulty carrying on the conversation for an hour, missing more pressing concerns assigned to them. He was a demanding person, who always wanted an audience, giving the impression that he probably lived alone, with no one to listen.

The last time I saw him was at a movie theatre in Gateway Mall, seated alone wearing his UN ID in the tenth row from the screen, a few seats in front of us, holding his folded umbrella and a scarf draped on his left shoulder. I had the urge to approach him, except that he seemed to be sleeping, his eyes closed but his mouth was open, where I suspect, the story of the movie was swallowed and digested.

Elena Aben, IVLP Co-Chair for Membership suggested to pay him a visit, as it was not normal for him not to make himself felt at any occasion. COVID 19 prevented all our intentions of goodwill. Long before the lockdown in 2020, we knew, from reliable sources that the virus had arrived in the Philippines months before it was officially announced, and that it was not safe to move around. This year, even when it was relatively safe to remove masks, people were cautious to mingle. Elena and I also got busy with our own careers, and the visit to Professor Lapuz slipped our minds.

This is where the sadness sinks in. I remember at times, avoiding his calls, not for any other reason but to attend to pressing personal and family matters and repair broken threads of friendship neglected over the years. In hindsight, I could have taken at least one call, a quick one, but knowing him, it would have been an insult to engage him for only thirty minutes. That would have meant a litany of lectures on courtesy, respect for the elderly, consideration and all the moral reasons, where I normally tell him, “Professor Doctor, you’re choppy, I can’t hear you, I’m losing you …”

Now, I have lost another unique character in my life, one whose presence made an indelible mark. Suddenly, I want to tell him, “Professor Doctor, I can’t hear you, I’m losing you but stay on the line, I will move to another spot.”

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