There seems to be a sudden surge of patriotism and a swell of emotions for our hero, Dr. Jose Rizal. It’s Rizalitis, an itch and yearning for everything and anything Rizal. Understandably, after all it is Rizal’s 150th birthday.
There’s the re-staging of Leonor Orosa-Goquingco’s play “Her Son, Jose Rizal” at Parramatta Town hall which almost feels like the quip for wedding. And there will be ”something old (cast members), something new (cast members), and something borrowed and something blue.” There’s the special screening of the Rizal movie with Cesar Montana which is being shown only a week prior. Then , Rizal in all his bronzing glory will soon be coming to Sydney to take his nominated place at the Rizal Park in Campbelltown. Now, there’s the rush to obtain donations for the pedestal for him to stand on. At least that’s nearing completion and within actualization.
The book cover of Renato Perdon's book on Rizal.
For those who think they know Rizal, think again. Whether you do or you don’t, grab a copy of Renato Perdon’s refreshing book on “Understanding Rizal” which paints our hero as someone pretty ordinary but thrown into extraordinary circumstances. Was it destiny calling or simply one of life’s accidents that he had come to be?
With the spirit of Rizal floating around, I am reminded of my own encounter with our hero, which I thought I’d share with all. It’s the night I slept with Rizal, a memory gem which would be the envy of the Knights of Rizal. It was back at the time when life seemed carefree, unrestrained and we were absolutely free. My friends and I were working at Malacañang at that time and come one Friday night, after a mundane week of hard work (and boredom plus) we were headed for our Friday night out ritual. It was TGIF – Thank Goodness it’s Friday! It was a time to unwind and experience whatever, wherever the night took us; a time when we simply would allow the people roaming aimlessly to amuse us.
Usually the routine was dinner and we’d end up somewhere to listen to music. Sometimes we simply devoured Luneta – our way of communing with nature. We would sometimes dine at the Restaurant for the Deaf and try to communicate in sign language; sit by the dock of the bay, counting and watching lovers wallowing in each other’s promises; or simply watch the bargain sellers scampering around. However, this night was different. We had our dinner, we had circled Luneta and it was now nearing 12 midnight, a crucial time during the curfew era. We either had to pack ourselves into a cab if we could find one or find refuge somewhere indoors immediately. Quick thinking, we decided to sleep with Rizal…yep!… right behind his statue in Luneta. In our usual teen logic, we figured this would be a safe haven and an experience . So off we went to position ourselves behind the statue, slipped ourselves cozily in place away from any preying eyes, and sprawled ourselves on the cement, using our handbags as pillows.
And there we were underneath Manila’s skies, counting stars without a care in the world, chanting “Spirit of Rizal, come to us.” We recited his quotes and lines from whatever little we knew and hoped that by sleeping next to Rizal’s statue, a little of his talent would rub off on us.
And so the hours ticked away and around 2am we were suddenly blinded by glaring flood lights. For one fleeting moment we thought, we were experiencing some kind of mirage and Rizal had come. But alas, it was the Metrocom doing their rounds and they had found us.
We were asked to line up and display our identification. When we showed our IDs, the Metrocom had to grin a little. We were then packed into their Metrocom car and delivered to our nearest office branch which was at that time, the Bureau of Broadcast to spend the remaining curfew hours until daylight.
Needless to say, Monday morning we were called to the boss’ office which really was not the first time. And the Colonel asked, “What were you girls doing there without a curfew pass?” Our reply came quickly: “Sir we just wanted to try and get a dash of Rizal’s intelligence so that we could be better employees.” With a reply like that, how could anyone argue. Now, I only wish we had a camera then because it would have been a sight to see.
Oh, and by the way it’s time for the embers of grey November. All Saints Day and all Souls Day – the latter includes the spooks and crooks – mindless souls, lost souls and those with faces like rubber soles. Hmmm, got to dust those white toxic particles off my head.
