7.5

I arrived at the library a few minutes before the clock struck eight, just for the enjoyment of being earlier than most of the library. I did a homework for one of my subjects there. The homework is due Tuesday next week, but I submitted it at the department at William Hall a while ago just to get things over with. My professor allowed early submissions. When I finished, I went back to the library to read up on my favorite topics.

The bigger chunk of my awesome day was invariably the turnover ceremony of the F. Sionil Jose Collection, a day I had waited the entire week and last month for. An intense researcher of sorts, I snooped around the Collection during its preparation stage this whole week. I helped with the decorating and organizing, mingled with artists, and talked to the daughters of F. Sionil Jose. I enjoyed it so much that I wanted to do more of it today, and so I went up to the twelfth floor at 1 p.m. to help again.

To my astonishment, I saw one friend there. He was arranging books to do his practicum duties. I asked if I could help.

Me: Hey, can I help? c:
Friend: No thanks, I can manage...
Me: Okay... [in my head: Fine, bahala ka...]

I roamed the Collection, took a lot of pictures, and talked to the people around (the librarians, organizers, the daughters--everyone except for my friend because he was boring). I also talked to Regie, the main artist. I asked him questions regarding the design concepts and arrangement of the place. He explained that the arrangement mimicked that of Solidaridad, the actual book shop. The quote on the wall which read "Uni boni tacent, malum prosperat" came from the publication called Solidarity. The Latin phrase meant "In the silence of good, evil prospers." That phrase was used as an epigraph of Solidarity. I knew an adequate amount of information about F. Sionil Jose from stock knowledge and a lot of research because I wrote about him for an essay competition last month. When Regie showed me an actual copy of Solidarity, I teared up, thinking I now hold in my hands...an actual copy of Solidarity. Wow. :">

I joined in some of their conversations on F. Sionil Jose, filling their stories in with stock knowledge of my own. We talked about his hometown, childhood, travels, writing life, etc. I guess it pays to know stuff? Coupled with a little stock knowledge on Philippine history, I remember inserting a topic on the Colorum uprising. Everyone then said "Yeah!!! That was in Pangasinan!" One of them said "I'm so impressed! How do you know so much?" I said, "School," giving a thumbs up, and then everyone laughed. Incidentally, that conversation took place around the long table, and it felt metaphorical. Many years ago in the Solidaridad book shop, I knew that people also used to have great conversations around a similar long table.

An F. Sionil Jose documentary played on a big LCD screen all throughout the afternoon preparation stage. While my friend was on his laptop at the far end of the room, I watched on the big screen, directly in front of it. I had the awesomest privilege of having watched the documentary that early afternoon--and I feel so thankful, so blessed that I had seized that opportunity to watch it, because they did not show it during the main event anymore, strangely enough. They only kept it running while the event transpired.

At 2:45 p.m., Dr. Lua arrived. She went directly to the buffet table to arrange the pika-pika goodies (different kinds of cheese, saltine, small sandwiches, chicken fingers, orange juice, and wine). I approached her and said hi.

Dr. Lua: Serina! You're early! Good yan ah.
Me: Always am!
Me: Can I help? c:
Dr. Lua: (excitedly) yes, sure sure SURE!!! Okay, since you and --- are early and are nicely dressed, why don't you both stand at the door and help welcome the guests?
Me: Okay

Friend: What did Dr. Lua say again?
Me: We stand at the door and welcome guests

We stood at the door and stared awkwardly at each other. A person with laughing tendencies, it was really hard for me to control my laughter. I guess I had made it too awkward for him that he walked to the CR. When he came back in, he walked past the door and toward the other end of the room to his laptop, leaving me at the door. I didn't mind being left alone at the door. When guests came in, I brought them to their seats, shook some hands. Suddenly, F. Sionil Jose arrived. The main librarian hurried to the door to shake his hand. His daughters also went to the door and welcomed him.

One of his daughters took me by the hand, slapped F. Sionil Jose at the shoulder, and said: "Papa! Let me introduce you to Serina! She's the person who's been telling us all about you!" F. Sionil Jose said "Ah ganun ba? Nice to meet you!" He took his cane by his left hand and extended his right hand to shake my hand. I felt incredibly happy. Photographers, people from the press, librarians, and organizers trailed after him; and so did I. I stood at an angle where it was possible to listen to everything he said. I guess he sensed that I was following him around.

When other people went back to minding their own businesses, finally, he sat down on a lonely monoblock chair. I remained at my spot three feet away from his left side and kept watching him. After some time, he looked at me and then called me to come near: "Halika, iha." I thanked the universe. I sat on a cube-like couch beside his monoblock chair, and he began with questions. I brushed feelings of enthrallment and awestrickenness away. I had always wanted that conversation; and because I was already having it, there was no point of feeling giddy or childish any longer. I could only look back to more than five years ago when I had started dreaming of conversations with fine old men. For those thirty minutes, I had lived five, long, crazy diary years of dreaming.

We sat very near the entrance. When guests came in one after another, he would stand up to shake their hands and take pictures with them--I might have photobombed on almost every picture because I never left my seat. After he greeted guests, he sat back down and continued with our conversation. I saw Dr. Lua looking so proudly at us.

FSJ: What are you...(unfinished)
Me: I'm a student
FSJ: No, I mean, what are you studying?
Me: Literature po
FSJ: what do you like to read?
Me: historical fiction po... I read a lot of historical fiction, memoirs, or anywhere I can find historical data
FSJ: what's your forte? do you write poetry? fiction? drama?
Me: I try to write fiction, but I also write poetry
FSJ: mostly what?
Me: fiction
FSJ: Do you write in English or Filipino?
Me: I write in both, but predominantly in English
FSJ: You should write in the language you know best
Me: Sir, why do you write in English?
FSJ: Because history declared that I write in English. That is a question I've been asked very often. If it were not for the Americans, I would probably be writing in Japanese or maybe in German.
Me: Sir, you've been traveling a lot po. How did you manange traveling with a writer's wage? I mean, you've always said it in your essays na walang pera kapag writer. How did you do it?
FSJ: There was always the benefit of writing grants and institutions that subsidized for my travels... Pero mahirap rin talaga, walang pera ang pagiging writer, but it's a very fulfilling and noble career
Me: Sir, how are you able to sustain your writing? You've already written so much, yet here you are, still writing... You even published another article in your column just four days ago. How do you do it?
FSJ: Passion. Without passion, you can't write. You can, but writing won't live and die with you. It's not easy to write, but as a writer you have to have the passion because it's what makes a writer a writer.
Me: How did your writing start?
FSJ: Because of Jose Rizal. Jose Rizal has the greatest influence in my writing. I remember, when I was ten years old, I cried when I read the scene about the two sons of Sisa, Crispin and Basilio. At that young age, I felt outraged by the injustice. Looking back, I think that is the reason why I feel outraged every time there is an injustice.
Me: Ako naman, sir, I cried at grade two during Makabayan, when we learned about the execution of Jose Rizal. I even remember that some of my classmates made fun of it. They played the "shooting" scene for fun. That wasn't right eh, so I got really angry. Na-detention ako nun...
FSJ: Hah?!!! Anong ginawa mo ba?
Me: sinigawan ko po sila... I said "You're all so immature!!! Stop disrespecting our national hero!!!" I got a detention for calling them immature.
FSJ: Hahaha

At some point, Brother Ricky came in. They both shook hands. F. Sionil Jose asked about Brother Ricky's collar. I said hi. We also shake hands.

Me: Hello Brother Ricky...
BR: Hello, how are you?
Me: I'm fine... when are you leaving for Rome?
BR: [he pats my head and smiles nicely] Next month pa, in late August. August 25 or 26.
Me: I've always wanted to go to Rome... and I've read your letters!
BR: Oh really?
Me: Yup. Can I touch your collar?
BR: go ahead. This collar comes from a long tradition of collars from the brothers in Rome.
Me: Wow, interesting
BR: [walks away after F. Sionil Jose takes his seat] sige, good luck with school.
Me: thanks!

When Brother Ricky left, more guests arrived. Because I sat next to him, one of the guests thought that I was F. Sionil Jose's grandchild. During intervals, we continued with our conversation. Oh that was fun.

Me: How did you feel about not winning the Nobel?
FSJ: (there was a change of tone) Wala eh...nothing... I was nominated twice. One was last year. I thought that by last year I was already going to get it. That would have been a really good opportunity. Sayang eh.
Me: Oh... sorry to hear. Can you talk about Solidarity, the book shop, and the art gallery?
FSJ: I'll talk about that later in my lecture. Later.
Me: Why do you write from history?
FSJ: Because tomorrow, today will also be history. I write from a memory.
Me: What in your opinion is the best kind of novel?
FSJ: A novel that gives a person memory. I always tell people that the primary function of a writer is to give a person memory, to help a person go back to the past.
Me: I agree.
FSJ: Wala ka na bang itatanong?
Me: Nope, sir, they're about to begin na kasi.
FSJ: (stands up with his cane and walks to Dr. Lua)

While walking, he was interrogated by some more guests for handshakes and photo-ops. Dr. Lua introduced my classmates to him. He said "Aba at akala ko ba mga sampu silang lit majors?!" Dr. Lua then explained that some were still on the way or late. He asked some of my classmates (Riddick, Anis, Katrina, Andrea) one by one about the topics they were interested in and the writings they did. My classmates answered. When he turned to me, he said "Ah, kausap ko na 'to kanina."

I observed that his speech borrowed anecdotes from many of his essays. They were told in exactly the same manner, and I found it adorable. Most of the anecdotes he shared were familiar ones because I'd already read them from his column and other essays. He finished, however, with a quick note on the opening of his Collection. He said that he turns his memory over to an institution with hopes that when a person visits the manuscripts and memorabilia, a person might remember.

Immediately after the signing of the contract, the ribbon was cut. I rushed from my back-row seat to the ribbon-cutting ceremony at the other end and pushed my way through the crowd and paparazzi to take good shots of every moment of the Collection's ribbon-cutting and after. I felt incredibly stalkeresque and energetic. I followed F. Sionil Jose everywhere, from inside the little room to the larger spaces he would go to to have pictures with guests. I also took pictures of him with guests and promised to upload them (we're friends on Facebook). After my turn as a photographer, I headed to the buffet table where I spoke to more people.

I spoke with Ms. Asuncion David-Maramba and promised to look for her books in the library. She mentioned that she taught in my university for a time and had authored several books. I also spoke with Dr. Vince Gomez.

Vince Gomez: Hi, are you the one doing a study on F. Sionil Jose?
Me: Yes!
VG: Ah, that's great! For how long have you been studying about him?
Me: For four months already.
VG: Oh, good. Are you also studying here?
Me: Yup, third year. (popping a piece of blue cheese into my mouth) 
VG: Okay. I'm the person who made all of this possible, from asking F. Sionil Jose to turn over his collection to making arrangements, etc.
Me: Wow, that's amazing. May I know your name, sir? [I felt like spitting the blue cheese out but I couldn't because I was in the middle of a conversation. I had no choice but to swollow the disgusting blue cheese.]
VG: I'm Dr. Gomez
Me: Vince Gomez?
VG: Yes
Me: [in my head: Shucks, kilala ka ng tatay ko] Oh! I'm sorry, I hardly recognize people by face. I usually only know them by name, including many of the writers here...
VG: No, it's fine. At least you know them by name. It's good noh, and how old are you?
Me: I'm 18
VG: Still young. What do you plan to do after college? Do you plan to teach? Study abroad?
Me: I could teach, but I don't teach well, so I could also go to law school or study abroad. I actually used to have so many plans for my life but it gets harder to decide as I get older.
VG: Take it slow, don't rush. It's better to be careful, because that's how you end up somewhere
Me: Yup, okay.

In the middle of that conversation, one of F. Sionil Jose's daughters came with her mother and introduced me to her mother.

Daughter: Mama, this is the girl who's been telling us all about Papa! She was here every day of the week and helped us with the set!
Tita Tessie: What's your name?
Me: I'm Serina
T: You've been here all week?
Me: Yup (I try to avoid the praise/pressure)
T: Thank you for your dedication and for helping them set up!
Me: No, thank you for collating all of his manuscripts! I now have a favorite spot in the library.
Tita: (friendly smile) Have you gotten something to eat?
Me: Yes, tita

The day ended splendidly. Two of F. Sionil Jose's daughter's friends also approached me and asked questions. We all had a picture together. In fact, I had so many pictures taken with people that day that I felt I couldn't touch a camera anymore. One of the friends said "Get your dreams!" I'll definitely heed these words.

I have two Biblical stories in mind: one, the story of a young Jesus sitting among teachers at the temple; and two, the story of Mary sitting at Jesus' feet when He came to their house.

I'd never like to directly compare myself to Jesus, but today's experiences had led to this assimilation. It was refreshing to have been able to convene with older people. For thirty-something memorable minutes, I sat down with F. Sionil Jose and just talked. I loved that part of the day. In my world, I meander about relationships between young girls and older men with whatever kind of relationship conceivable. Strangely, I found myself living inside that meander today. It's something I would do every day if I could.