Chapter 8 - Looking For a Long-lost Friend in The Concrete Jungles of Manhattan


Not long ago I received a snail mail with a New York postmark from a man named James Jacob. The name was new to me but the handwriting was very familiar. It was a penmanship I can always recognize anywhere in the world for my association with this man started way back 31 years ago when we were still high school freshmen in NMSAT. How the name evolved from being Jaime Egpan Ondoy to James Jacob must have something to do with his change of allegiance from being a true-bloodied pinoy to a newly-minted American.

My relationship with James in high school was friendly but adversarial because of our healthy competition of being the top in the class. He was a diligent student and a voracious reader while my interests were in something else. He drowned me in World History subject under Mr. Ernesto Tapales which almost cost me the top honors. Our school remembers him as that student who wrote to then US Ambassador to the Philippines Henry Byrode which resulted to a donation of several crates of books to our school library including a couple of complete sets of Encyclopaedia.

We both passed the MSU college scholarship exam, and we traveled to Marawi together with the scholars from other high schools in Cabadbaran: Aide Tejano, Raul Monton, Femia Patron, Jessie Apat, Miguel Balasa, Jaine Jamboy, Ben-hur Rafosala and Edwina Tomaraw. Due to his diligence, he earned a full scholarship during his last semester of his last year in International Relations.

After graduation he ventured to Manila doing odd jobs here and there until he attained what he aimed for--- a career position in the Department of Foreign Affairs. As for me, I remained in the university after graduation, teaching in the College of Engineering. In one of his rare visits to MSU conducting examinations to foreign service applicants, he handed me an application form which I filled up and sent to the Japanese Embassy on the very last day and forgot all about it. Three months later I received the longest RCPI telegram in my life covering one whole page telling me in a very elaborate language which simply meant I was accepted to visit Japan for one month all expenses paid. 

Three days before our departure, I paid him a visit in his office telling him that I was accepted to visit Japan but, unfortunately, I do not have my passport yet. He accompanied me to the Passport Division which was then housed at the Film Center. My heart sank when I saw that the queue of passport applicants went out of the main entrance, circled the whole building and overflowed into the parking area. We went inside directly, and he let me stay in a corner while he went further into the innermost cubicle. Thirty minutes later, he handed to me my brand-new passport bearing the signature of a consul who was also a Cabadbaranon. As we went out of the building, the queue appeared to have not moved at all. I pity them but, really, life is full of unfairness.

One day while in office, Miss Chito Madrigal, the wife of then Secretary Manuel Collantes saw the artistic talents in him and offered him a job of curator of their family museum in New Ayala-Alabang a few houses away from the residence of a military officer turned politician named Fidel Valdez Ramos. I visited him once and I sensed that he was enjoying his new job.

I lost contact with him after my return from Japan until the time that I received that snail mail from New York. He has an open invitation for me to visit his place in Park Avenue but until now I do not have the time ("read money") to accept his invitation.

Epilogue

I wrote this piece in 1999 when I was still working at Iligan Light and Power, Inc. in Iligan City. In 2001, I emigrated to the United States. Between 2003 and 2005 I worked around the New York-New Jersey area crisscrossing the numbered avenues and streets of Manhattan but could not find a shadow of him. The phone number he gave me was no longer in service and the phone directory was not helpful for there are dozens of entries under the name James Jacob.


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Table of Contents: Our Family's Journey

 Chapter 1 -        Remembering My Grandfather Chapter 2 -         A Robbery That Happened in Bohol Chapter 3 -        My Childhood Recollections Chapter 4 -        How My Uncle Leon Brought Home A Wife Chapter 5 -        Panta And Bondoy Chapter 6 -        Portrait Of A Young Rebel Chapter 7 -       A Significant Life:  Remembering Ka Manny Chapter 8 -         Looking For A Long-lost Friend in A Concrete Jungles of Manhattan Chapter 9 -        My Father: Some Poignant Recollections Chapter 10 -      Mother's Day Musings: My Mother's Ordeal Chapter 11 -      This One's For The Movies... But What A Scary Experience Chapter 12 -      Too Young To Die Chapter 13 -      A Day With Joy Chapter 14 -       A Great Man Chapter 15 -   ...
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Chapter 3 - My Childhood Recollections

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I was born and raised in a farm at the outskirts of the village of Calamba in the town of Cabadbaran, Philippines. My father was a farmer and my mother took care of us children, while helping our father in any way she could to augment our family income. Being the eldest, my mother would request me to look after my siblings while she tended her vegetable garden at the backyard or wash our laundry in a nearby creek. Being in a rural area, there were no kindergarten schools where the kids could go to school early. Children would have to wait until they reach seven years of age before they could start grade school. When I was six, my father and I had a heart-to-heart talk. It was a now-or-never scenario. My father was trying to convince me that it was time for me to go to school.  As if, should I miss going to school that year, there was no more next year to start school and I would be illiterate for the rest of my life. The following Monday morning, my mother accompanied me to school ...
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Chapter 1 - Remembering My Grandfather

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