Roberto

Roberto is not his real name.

"A practical man," was how Fr. Roland described Roberto. I wanted to interview him but Fr. Roland was hesitant, "he does not even write anything for the newsletter. Try Benmar, Ariel or Pinoy. They would be more receptive to the interview." I did what was told me. I interviewed Benmar, Ariel, Pinoy plus seven other seafarers but not Roberto.

Roberto was fortyish, I think. I was told that he is married with three kids. And indeed, he was a practical man. Early morning I will see him texting. After breakfast, he would be removing the wild bounganvilla found at the Center's gate. By mid morning, he would be busy preparing lunch -- my favorite was his nilagang baka and sotanghon with mussles. After lunch, he went back removing the thorns and thistles and started to put up the beams of the new gate. Then, he went back to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

At table, he was a story teller. "In Japan, they do this..." "I was in France and they have this..." Even in the local scene, he had something to say, "Do you know that the Batangeños had a way of cooking fish in boiled rice?" Then, he filled in the details with gusto typical of a newscaster.

Yes, it was typical of him -- given to the facts of life but not of his life. He was detached from his feelings; he was more of a doer, a go-getter.

One time, I looked at him in the eyes. His eyes revealed weariness, tiredness. I surmise, his eyes were tired from stopping the tears to flow and weary from looking at the darkness that confronts him.

But those were just my impressions. I was not able to interview him.

One morning, I was reading the periodico and Roberto was packing his things.

"Ton, read this," Roberto asked me.

I put down what I was reading as he handed me an inch-thick of document.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Just read it and you'll see."

I browsed through the document. I was surprised that the covering letter was from a law firm in the U.S.

"You filed a case against your former employer?"

He was busy tying a knot. He paused. He looked at me and said, "Yes."

"Why? What happened?"

He put down the knot he was holding. He stood up and sat on the chair in front of me. And quizzically, he asked, "Have you seen Armaggedon?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember Bruce Willis?"

"Yup."

"That was what I was doing then. We were drilling for oil. Do you know that our kind of job was the elite's? We were the envy of most seafarers. It was difficult and challenging but it pays very well. We were the Navy Seals of the seafaring industry!"

"So, what happened?"

"I had an accident. They brought me to France. I was operated there. They placed a metal on my leg. I will be going to New Orleans to meet my lawyers. I leave this afternoon for Manila."

"I see." I handed to him the documents he gave me and said that "I will pray for you and your family."

He took the folder and sighed, "You know Ton; life is really very difficult."

"Tell me," I said.

"While I was in France recuperating from the operation, I received a message from my relatives. MY WIFE IS HAVING AN AFFAIR. It was with the brother of a former student of hers. I was really devastated. It was very painful."

"I am very sorry to hear that."

"Before going to New Orleans, I am going to Manila to file a case against her in PRC. I just wish that they will no longer allow her to teach."

"How about your children?"

"My youngest daughter is with her. She is just too young to understand these things. My eldest, he is working. He is in Laguna with my relatives. My middle child, my son, he was the brightest and the most intelligent. I do not know where to find him. He is gone. He ran away. I do not know what to do. All the things that I worked for down the drain. But I do need to move on.” A silence filled the air. Then, he said, “Thank you for listening, Ton."

After that brief talk with Roberto, he did move on. I saw him leave AOS that afternoon but that was it. I do not know what happened to him next. Fr. Roland was right. AOS-Cebu is “not about the building.” The center is a home away from home, or for Roberto’s case and for a good number of whom I chanced upon to talk with in the center, AOS is a home when there is no more home to go to.