There were cat whistles coming from almost all the men as this tall, lean, model-looking fox of a woman walked by. She caught their attention as they, in turn, caught the ire of the women with them.
She truly was the dream of men and the envy of other women, that they wished they looked like her. Her skin unblemished, not too white, just enough so her features were pronounced, like her eyes whose gaze seemed to pierce through everything she looked at, hypnotizing those who looked into them.
She flaunted her beauty until people started to look closely at her, from head to toe–CLOSELY. Their admiration waned some when they saw that her hair was not perfect–badly matted, in fact, unkempt for too long, knotted beyond help.
What to do, what to do, was her plea. What, indeed, was she to do?
In our Aphrodite’s case, it would take a long time to untangle her hair, and that would be if it could be untangled at all. In the worst case, her hair would have to be cut, and that would just kill her. She would face humiliation more than anything else. Sure, her face would still be beautiful, but without her hair, she could not be the envy that she was, a distinction she had falsely enjoyed for too long, but one that caused pride, hubris in her case. Poor Aphrodite. She neglected one facet of her beauty and it cost her the pedestal she was on.
In everything, there will surely be a flaw. It may not be obvious at first but after a while of acute observation, it surfaces, unrestrained, unprovoked, destructive.
I see our beloved Dumaguete as anyone would see our Aphrodite. At first, it is this beautiful place that promises stress-free living, perfect for retirement–a totally care-free existence that befits those who have worked and stressed all their lives.
I am one of those and especially so, because I was born here. I find myself affected by anything that is not right in the City, and there are quite a few things that aren’t.
My wife and I can come home at midnight after a night out with friends and, unaware of the time, find out that a shower is totally out of the question–there is no water.
Forget the shower, I can always take one in the morning. I’ll just brush my teeth, but then, that requires water, too.
Oh well, unable to do all that, I just opt to use the toilet before retiring to bed. After, I flush the toilet, but it doesn’t refill because, of course, there is no water. I better not have the need to go to the T again before 4:00 am when the water comes back or else it would just stink.
This s–t is every f—–g day, from midnight to 4:00 am, reminding me of the military where we call that watch the balls-to-four.
I and many other people have gone to the Water District to complain but I guess, because they are the highest-paid government employees in the City, they think they REALLY can ignore their customer’s complaints.
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
Waking up in the morning after a waterless night, I go to the kitchen to brew my coffee. I use bottled water for that, thank God. I fill the reservoir, measure my coffee, and turn the brewer on. Nothing!
Then I realize that the emergency lights are on. A brownout! S–t. I call NORECO II on their hotline. The man at the other end has nothing else in his script but, “Ah, sir, may ni-trip man gud nga breaker. Amo pang gi-trace ug asa, sir. Tua na tong team, sir, Gi-dispatch na.”
When it’s my lucky day, these things could last less than an hour. I keep wondering, what if it wasn’t my lucky day? Maybe no coffee then? Or I could just go out and get my morning dose somewhere.
Since we came back home last May, we have not been unlucky enough to experience one of those electrical maintenance days where NORECO II cuts the power to the entire City to do maintenance on their systems.
I know, if you ask them, they’d tell you that it’s not them but the National Grid Corp. At this point, it really doesn’t matter because we’ve so far always been out of the City somewhere when this things happen.
I did go to the NORECO II office at Robinsons to ask some questions. I asked one of the employees there if NORECO II would give credit for spoiled food like ice cream, due to these intentional power outages.
I didn’t even see the slightest sign of comprehension on her face. She had to ask me again, so I explained. It was then that she turned to her co-worker who then said that NORECO II didn’t have such a program.
It was an alien concept to them, I suppose. It was time wasted. I guess we just have to live with brownouts or, in most cases, blackouts, while we give NORECO II (and NGC) more, way more, decades to improve and discover ways to conduct maintenance without disrupting service to an ENTIRE City.
Oh, and to give them a chance to also learn how to determine which breakers have tripped without having to send a team out to “trace” lines.
Dumaguete is my hometown. I love her no matter what, but I would like to be honest about her, to accept her flaws, not hide her flaws from others, keeping them where they may never be corrected.
I would never sell her as more than what she is.
Instead, I would help her be truly beautiful, without flaws, without cause to compromise.
Right now, she is the one the leaders are prematurely dubbing Aphrodite. She still has flaws, but they are hiding them, refusing to fix them, depriving her of her own pride.
Dumaguete, my hometown, my Aphrodite, a City in disarray.
You ply her streets at your own risk. A picture akin to anarchy. Officials, like musicians, playing different tunes all at once.
Like the lady that she is, she’s not too fond of presenting herself in public with her obvious flaws. If we truly respect her, we should protect her even from the slightest ridicule.
To those concerned, please know that a lady always wants to look her best. Have the decency to give our Aphrodite, Dumaguete, everything she needs to truly and proudly become beautiful, just like we describe her to be.
I’ve mentioned here just some of the major flaws. There are others, albeit minor ones.
Should we forever take this as the way it is, or should we aspire for the way it should be?
______________________________
Author’s email: [email protected]
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
br />