Luli is the low-key daughter of President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo who was irked because Edgar Padlan, a Bureau of Immigration and Deportation (BID) officer allowed a foreigner to jump the line of passengers waiting to be checked in at the Ninoy Aquino International Airport last November 01. According to her, the point is not because Padlan did not recognize her and gave her special accommodation as befitting a member of the First Family, but that there is a queue to which everyone must wait their turn, including her. There are many "Padlans" in this world, as there are many "Lulis" whose experiences and struggles attempt to change, no matter how incremental, the way we behave and conduct ourselves.
I had several "luli moments" in the span of just the past two days. Yesterday, while waiting for Fe Mangahas to fetch me for the showing of “The Road to Kalimugtong” at Magnet, I went to the Bank of Commerce to withdraw. There was a long queue but there were only three people on the first front seats which could sit at least ten. The woman at the back said the line has extended to the second row because the three people in the front seat did not make an effort to “move their ass”, so I was being asked to seat at the second row by the patient ones. Instead of doing this, I approached the guard who did not also care if the queuing was followed. As I was talking to him, the three people in the front row moved, to the relief of those in the second row, including me. It was already thirty minutes but we were not moving because two of those who just arrived went straight to the teller, sneaking their slips at the back of the vase with plastic flowers. The teller took the slips rapidly with her right hand, without moving her face away from the computer, which makes me conclude that her peripheral vision is working properly despite the impropriety of her actions. The woman seated to my right whose turn was overtaken by “the inserted” whispered, “How terrible that we have to queue and some people just cut in. The teller even tolerates it.” In answer, I told her, within hearing distance of all my other seatmates and hopefully the inserted ones, “Well, if you have enough self-respect, you would not do the same thing would you? It is just his level of consciousness.” When he finished, he motioned to the man seated to my left, who suddenly rose from his seat, got his money and departed. I suddenly realized “the departed” just stole my turn!
This happens often at the Metro Rail Transit (MRT) system. At one time, I lined up at one of the two exits to Shangrila Plaza and found that after the first two, the exit was no longer serviceable. I waved to the guard to call his attention but he just stood there fondling his rifle, so in desperation, we have to join the queue at the end of the one and only available exit. When the guard regained his wits, he called for someone to repair the other exits since the queue has reached his unconscious. One exit was repaired and those who belonged to our line moved to the other exit, which did not work again. Then they wanted to reclaim the space they have left. People shouted, “Line up, don’t insert yourselves!” to which they retorted, “This space belonged to us before we moved!”
That is not the end of it. Once you get inside the train, you would expect to be among women on the first two coaches reserves for “women, children and the elderly”, but you would be jostling with able-bodied men and male teenagers stealthily occupying spaces near the doors with their backs turned, women who cannot part with their boyfriends, mothers who insist to be accompanied by their male children, and males dressed like women who swear they are in fact “girls.”
These “luli” moments occur very often. It is a sign that our economic progress and our sense of community has not developed at the same pace. “Get ahead” has become a personal mantra and a national tradition, no matter what the cost. Or you get run over, just as proponents of Charter Change promised, until they got derailed by the Supreme Court. There is no Supreme Court in the streets, only people who want to get ahead and people who allow them. There is no arbiter for what is appropriate. In the end, we must find our own voices, act and contribute to the change we want to happen.
This happens often at the Metro Rail Transit (MRT) system. At one time, I lined up at one of the two exits to Shangrila Plaza and found that after the first two, the exit was no longer serviceable. I waved to the guard to call his attention but he just stood there fondling his rifle, so in desperation, we have to join the queue at the end of the one and only available exit. When the guard regained his wits, he called for someone to repair the other exits since the queue has reached his unconscious. One exit was repaired and those who belonged to our line moved to the other exit, which did not work again. Then they wanted to reclaim the space they have left. People shouted, “Line up, don’t insert yourselves!” to which they retorted, “This space belonged to us before we moved!”
That is not the end of it. Once you get inside the train, you would expect to be among women on the first two coaches reserves for “women, children and the elderly”, but you would be jostling with able-bodied men and male teenagers stealthily occupying spaces near the doors with their backs turned, women who cannot part with their boyfriends, mothers who insist to be accompanied by their male children, and males dressed like women who swear they are in fact “girls.”
These “luli” moments occur very often. It is a sign that our economic progress and our sense of community has not developed at the same pace. “Get ahead” has become a personal mantra and a national tradition, no matter what the cost. Or you get run over, just as proponents of Charter Change promised, until they got derailed by the Supreme Court. There is no Supreme Court in the streets, only people who want to get ahead and people who allow them. There is no arbiter for what is appropriate. In the end, we must find our own voices, act and contribute to the change we want to happen.
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