By Rex Catubig

 

AT the beach where a naval landing had made history, the same beach that has produced the legend of a rags-to-riches Matutina, enterprising women vendors today do not even come remotely close to the parameters of the phenomena. They have neither made history, nor become the stuff legends are made of.

They are frozen in time, caught in a time warp, prisoners of misfortune. For time has not only stood still for them, but they seem unmindful of the dream that has passed them by.  Yet they remain tenacious, and though they have not been favored by luck, are indefatigable and are willing to walk the extra mile literally, in order to earn their living.

A typical day starts at 4 a.m. for Violeta who sells pan-fried Spanish peanuts and green mangoes loaded in a basket and a plastic container. She’s been a widow for 5 years, with 4 children who already have families of their own.  At 74, she’s still sprightly and has been walking the beach from sun up to sundown–in fact as late as 8 o’clock, for as long the cresting blue waves have been lapping over the sandy shores.

Mila is younger at 63. But she and her husband, who died last year, have been prolific and were endowed with 8 children. Like Violeta, vending peanuts and mangoes along the seashore is a way of life. She says she cannot imagine being housebound: “Anap-anapey laman ko”, (My body yearns for it) she reasons out why she continues “to do what she gotta do”  to borrow an American slang.

Their work ethic is something to be proud of, for sure. But it belies the sad truth that each earns a measly P200 at the end of the long day. With that amount, given the cost of food, the hand would be hard put to reach the mouth, no matter how you stretch the arm.

It’s a disturbing thought but the teetering sunset nudged by the wondrous wind and wave, seems to auger that despite the paucity of luck, the fizzling of dream, the uncertainty of time, the untamed heart would keep its rhythm and continue to beat—even to the sound of a different drummer.

And contrary to what has been written–life would end not with a whimper but with a glorious bang. The unpretentious dinner of broiled bangus and pork barbeque as one ponders life and legend is enough to trigger the fanfare of thanksgiving.

At the beach where history and legend met, life goes on with the ebb and flow of the tide.

Listen to the waves. They have stories to tell.

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