Friday, February 02, 2007

MAGDALEN

Joyce, not her real name, is 21. She is winsome, of light complexion, does not apply mascara on her face, and whose vital statistics place the numbers in their proper places. In a sleepy town where dusters are the daily wear of women, she often is dressed in a blouse with plunging neckline that visibly reveals the baseline of her breast as if declaring that what is in front is not a padded bra but the real thing. The shirt is often paired with shorts or miniskirt that accentuates her shapely and well-proportioned legs. Had she been in the cosmopolitan district and coated by feminine accessories, it is a cinch that the still-virile males, and on this many of the brethren are included, will blew a whistle to make a pass at her. And young as she is, she has already indulged in the ancient female spiteful vice the whole of mankind generally calls the flesh trade.

How she came to our neighborhood is a story in itself.

About a year ago while the aging lion was reading a book at the porch of their den, he saw three young girls alighting from a car in front of their house., and unaccustomed to new faces, asked the lion tamer who they are and received an obviously irritated reply that says in the local dialect: :”mga buring!”.

Not understanding what the words meant, he was astonished to hear the following amplification. The word “buring” meant prostitute and the reason the lady with the whip is mad was because the three girls are renting a space at the house of one of her male cousins barely a hundred meters away. That cousin, already separated from his wife, is alone ii his house and thought a supplementary income and a chance to cavort with the females may prove a wholesome pastime Predictably however, the lion tamer foresaw it will affect the morality of the neighborhood because of the very nature of their profession hence her revolting attitude towards the three girls.

The modus operandi of the three is hi-tech. Using the awesome powers of modern technology, transactions no longer pass through pimps but are consummated through text messages. They don’t accomplish the transactions at the rented house because it would be too vulgar even if the neighbors don’t see the actual event. A car would casually pass by the place in the morning, pick them up and bring them somewhere (most probably in cottages of beach houses since motels do not yet exist in this far off place) and in the afternoon drop them back at the same place where the driver picked them up. The slaughterhouse, I mean the actual insertion of the cylindrically-shaped blades inside the crater-shaped (no, not like Mayon that protrudes majestically but more like Pinatubo) chalice could be anywhere except near the place where the aging lion lives. And so the unwholesome connotation of prostitution being actually done in the neighborhood does not seem to exist at all.

But problems occurred later. During idle days these sex workers would while their time away in the shack at the backyard and naturally would be approached by the fishermen who are also generally idle during daytime. Consequently, amorous advances by the fishermen would result, pinching here and there, especially on the sensitive places and would be countered by pinches from the girls that would only arouse male animalistic instincts even more. And boisterous laughter would ensue to the consternation of the wives and the female residents of the neighborhood.

Naturally, the conservative members of the community considered these repulsive. One day, one of the “burings” enticed a handsome thirteen-year-old lad and lured the latter to have sex with her gratis et amore. The next day, the other young boys his age and even those older, were cajoling the newly “baptized” boy to narrate the euphoria that he enjoyed that night at the seawall and naturally also caused envy even of the adult fishermen that heard of the tale. And the lion tamer obviously was peeved!

So she made her move. She called her police officer nephew and berated him, she presented the problem to the baranggay captain and also called the town mayor to registered her complaint. The idyllic baranggay does not deserve the ignominy once suffered by places like Bocaue, Dapdap and Culi-culi of the olden days and therefore these professional sex peddlers should be shooed away from the environs and she does not give a damn where the three would ply their trade next.

But backlash ensued. The house of the lion tamer suddenly was subjected to stones being thrown at the rooftops that would rumble down the galvanized iron sheets before these fist-sized gravel would finally register its emphatic thud on the ground. Undaunted, she reported the incident again to her nephew, the baranggay captain and the town mayor and verbally hinted that the malefactor, if identified, might be picked up by a select force of the army’s battalion contingent based at the neighboring town without the need for an arrest warrant being issued. And that did it, the stone throwing ceased. All because the residents of the community still remember a previous visit by two military officers to the aging lion who were accompanied by two dozens security escorts in full battle gear as if they are bound to a whole platoon of NPA rebels!


Her effort to drive away the sex workers was successful but only partially. Two of the girls immediately disappeared but the third remained. Casual inquiry showed that the third girl hooked a live-in-partner and so decided to turn inactive in her profession. And there was no need to move away, her consort was a handsome neighbor who is a bachelor just about her age.

Initially, she is nowhere around during daytime but would return when dusk fell and leave again early the next morning. Until one day, the two decided to rent a room just beside the place where the young man resided and stayed there to the consternation of the boy’s mother. With the implied acquiescence of the boy’s grandfather who would periodically give the budding Romeo pocket money however, the two would survive daily since the boy is also jobless. On the whole, however, the life of the two may be considered similar to the pariah or outcasts who have not gained acceptance like normal couples in the conservative Catholic community. But they don’t care. Active sex in the rented room already provided some sort of psychological ecstasy that they enjoyed almost daily.

Then an unusual event happened. One early morning when dawn has not yet been broken, while the girl was sleeping alone since her live-in partner was out at sea, she was awakened by a male figure kissing her and immediately realized it was not her live-in partner. She struggled and recognized the intruder and in the morning narrated the incident to another neighbor who advised that a confrontation with the intruder’s wife would be in order. The would-be assailant however, instead of admitting his guilt berated her even more telling her to the face that she is lying all because she is a whore! Which infuriated her even more and at the suggestion of the neighbor who earlier recommended the confrontation, advised that the better recourse would be to consult the lion tamer.

So the lion tamer referred the matter to the town’s police office and a confrontation took place. After due investigation, it was found out that the incident indeed took place. Not only that! Investigation showed that he was a Peeping Tom and that has even unsuccessfully molested a neighbor’s daughter, fact that surfaced only because the would-be victim volunteered to also complain..

The girl was vindicated and a stern written reprimand was issued against the erring malefactor that should the incident happen again, the findings on the incident can be used against him to put him right into the calaboose. In addition, the girl has gained a measure of respectability from the parents of her live-in partner who also later turned kindly on her.

And so one day, the lion tamer asked her pet if it would be alright that she takes the girl to the “ukay-ukay tienda” (a place where used clothes are sold during Wednesdays and Sundays) so that superficially she can buy for the latter a piece or two but inwardly for the public to see them and thus create the impression that the young girl now has returned to normal life. The aging lion nodded and pretty soon the lady with the whip returned narrating that even the town’s first lady who was initially quizzical at her effort to help the girl to return to normal life admitted that it was indeed a good move.

Discreet inquiries on the life of Joyce revealed that she is a daughter born out of wedlock by her mother and who later delivered another baby girl eleven years later but not from the same father. The mother later married an American citizen who was already in his December years and who invested in four transportation buses that plied the island and thus the family enjoyed a life of abundance enabling her to pursue high school studies. But her stepfather contracted illness and thereafter died dwindling their resources that also resulted in the sale of the passenger buses. At this juncture the daughter-mother relationship also tumbled that ultimately led to her rebellion against what she conceived was an overly strict parental control that ultimately pushed her to prostitution.

Which just about turns into full cycle the narration of her life.

So, the question now at hand is :”will she be able to lead a normal life from hereon in the company of her live-in partner and later raise their own family?” Or will she tire of her life with her live-in partner and later seek another exciting interlude where the mystic powers of her genitalia she’ll be compelled to sink again in the quagmire where the not-so-daring daughters of Eve have ever tried before.

Ah, but only time can tell!


Note to the readers: This writer will appreciate your reactions on the substance and relevance of the foregoing article.