You would know that the room is about to be filled with her presence. Not because there are drum rolls or musical preludes. There is just a progression of thud, thud, and more thuds from a certain weight, actually high heels, hitting the wooden or concrete floor. Yes, these sounds introduce her. Yes she is approaching and pretty soon you’ll warmly welcome her high-pitched voice and infectious laugh. Oh, she’s wearing her spaghetti-strapped tops today. Wait, is it March or April already? Are we done with Easter Sunday? Hey Leah, how was your Holy Week? And how was your latest performance as the Virgin Mary?
Leah is one of my newest (and closest) friends, having known her only in 2002 when we both joined PBSP (the Philippine Business for Social Progress is a non-profit corporate-led foundation dedicated to the promotion of blah blah blah) around the same time (she was two months ahead of me). In the four years that she was with PBSP, she mutated from being a finance staff to a program officer (wherein she had to hurdle both fortuitous conditions and suspiciously man-made challenges in order to perfect the mutation).
She neither smokes nor drinks anything with caffeine or alcohol, thus good friendship can actually be nurtured in places aside from bars and supposedly hip places. We both love to eat thus friendship can actually grow over slices of meat, cups of rice, slices of cake and bars and mouthfuls of chocolates. Thanks to the food, I have become heavier while she remains frustratingly slim (the world is so unfair, but surprisingly, I am not vindictive).
There were hilarious days including the V-hire fiasco that resulted to the departure of the dreaded zinger (resolved, that what transpired was simply a private matter among close friends). There are also confidences and chikas (factual or speculative in nature) over lunch and snack breaks (including unconstitutional nutrition breaks bound to occur anytime within the day), while exploring the malls, or while riding in the jeepney bound for Consolacion (my stop is Mandaue City).
And then, there was the affirmation of love (the beautiful that is a cause for celebration; the mysterious that is always nice to dissect and analyze piece by piece; the irrational that paralyzes the brain and momentarily maims the heart).
Hey Leah, why do we fall for people not within our daily reach? What’s the glory of missing? Why travel miles just to see them for a few days (he traveled or you, I traveled for him)? Why do we spend hundreds, even thousands, on phone bills and concrete little thoughts (for your guy: a greeting card, a tropical shirt, your studio shot; for my sweet baby: CD’s and books) that have to be transported by air? What is it about local boys that is/are so… uninteresting?
There are answers. There are more answers.
And there are actions - brave actions. The willingness to freely fall. In Henry James’ words, “to dig deep into the actual and get something out of that.” For you Leah, it’s that one-way ticket that would take you to New York and to a new life this coming June 16, 2006. It's that sixteen-hour threshold. Thus, my respect and admiration. My beautiful visions of love. My prayers and best wishes. Break a leg and always be in touch!
Leah is enraptured by the descent of an erotic spirit (she was just expressing her gratitude for the PBSP people who gave her an ice cream and junk foods party.
Some of the staff of the social development foundation who threw the party. There were speeches. There were wishes. And hungry mouths were fed.
A final treat at Sbarro in Ayala. One of Leah's last lunches as a virgin - splurging on Chicago pizza, pasta with tomato sauce and meatballs, macaroni salad, edible oils, olive oils, vegetable oils, and facial oils.
The writer himself and the subject (in one of her last pictures as a virgin).
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