I never dreamt of celebrating my 19th birthday on a train drinking blueberry yogo. I always imagined it with friends and a lot of food.
Ten years ago, I had it beside a waterfall with my family with delicacies native in Visayas. It was one of the most memorable birthday celebrations I had because I jumped off a 15-feet high cliff to a rapid flowing river and had myself almost killed if it wasn’t for Uncle Rene who saw my recklessness and saved me. After getting out of the water, I realized I was not scared at all and wanted to try it again. But after what happened, my grandparents kept me from getting close to the cliff again and only allowed me in the riverbank. I also had a celebration with my friends in a public resort three years ago. We really thought we were meant to be there because we were the only guests that day until the next day. That was why we really owned that night of the resort.
I stopped reminiscing when I realized that most of the passengers were gone. Even the little girl, maybe 7 years old, sitting beside me, who kept on staring and turning her head to her mom every time I look back, was gone. I won’t forget what happened after the little girl said, “Mama, look at the old lady, shouldn’t she be sitting instead of these men? That’s what Ms. Mary told us. Give seats to old people. They are not old people, they should stand just like us!” And the little girl stood up and pulled her mom up the train seat. The moment I almost gave up my seat, the woman in front of me, probably my age, wearing red printed shirt with black khaki shorts and her blue hooded jacket hanged on her body bag, stood up and gave her seat to the mother and child.
To redeem myself from the shame of not giving up my seat to the mother and child, and worst of all, witnessing a woman did what I, as a man, should have done, I stood up and said, “Hi, please take my seat.” We looked at each other’s eyes. At that moment, I noticed from her brown eyes that she was thinking. Thinking deeply like the world could be swallowed by it. That instant, I was sure we had connected. I felt her loneliness and I was willing to take that away from her, to make her feel she was not alone.
“Please, take my…,” I never finished my sentence because I found myself at the center of everyone’s attention. “Pathetic,” she said after hitting me in the face and walked away.
I never really dreamt of celebrating my birthday on a train. I never imagined it with a stranger and blueberry yogo on my slapped face.
Luther Castante 