Tired from several hours of walking along SM North, I rode the bus home at around 6pm. Of course, I was not in the mood. My feet hurt and my stomach revved. I wanted to eat even just a slice of pizza and drink anything. This was during one of those hot summer days when one would still feel burning despite the rain. I aimed for a seat near the window so I can have my quiet moment but most of them were occupied. The vacant space beside a man would do, I thought. I think I woke him up. He asked me, “Is this Karuhatan already?” I answered a simple ‘No.”
He began talking incessantly until he asked me about how to butcher a chicken. “I haven’t killed a rat, Sir.” Okay that’s sarcastic, but only because I was not in the mood and I don’t talk to strangers. From my peripheral, I figured he was half blind. Otherwise, he won’t be able to identify SM Annex. I also assumed he was in need of company or he was lonely or he just loved to talk or he was plain curious. I don’t know! All I knew was I want silence. That’s something I don’t want to arrogantly demand from someone who just wanted or needed to talk. Besides, it would make me feel bad if I ignored him, so I just rode along and eventually taught him how to kill a chicken. I told him that you have to tie the feet and the wings, lie the chicken on the table, hold it down with your knee or elbow, then start slashing the throat to drain the blood. When the chicken is dead, it is dipped in boiling for easy feathering (removal of the feathers). He had lots of questions in between. Next, he asked me if I know how to kill a pig!
Just a few minutes before we parted, he told me his name (which I forgot). It was teacher something. I gave him my name in return. And that was an interesting yet forgettable conversation I had.
Teacher something teaches music in Marikina. The xylophone sticking out of his bag gave me an idea what instrument. Good for him. There are people who have no defects but don’t work. At least he makes a living.