Thursday, July 19, 2007
MAMANG PULIS O KIDNAPPER
Man in Barong
33 x 38 cm
pen and ink on paper
“I look good in Barong Tagalog.”
A thought bubble popped into my brain as I was standing in front of the mirror. I was looking at myself wearing this piece of emroidered clothing inherited from our forefathers that I’ll be wearing to a wedding an hour later. I donned on my straw hat and a pair of leather slippers and thought I looked like a spitting image of one of those early 17th century lithographs of ilustrados. I only lack a cane to complete the outfit.
I think wearing a Barong makes one look dignified in this tropical heat. It’s cool, light and really quite airy. Besides, it hides perfectly well whatever cellulite malformations its wearer has. Goodness knows I could feel mine growing as the years pass by. It’s also cheaper than wearing a tailored suit and much more readily accessible.
“Hey, I like this barong I am wearing right now. I feel like a million bucks richer”, as goes the text message I sent to Robert.
“May kulang ka pang accessories am sure”, came his reply.
“Ano yun?” I texted back.
“Suot ka ng shades at maglagay ng earphones. Magmumukha ka nang PSG*. Mwahaha!”, he answered.
Days later, my landlady saw the pictures Eric took of me and placed in his blogsite - http://senorenrique.blogspot.com. She’s a very gracious Chinese-Filipina lady of 74 years old. She regularly surfs the net, chats with her sons and grandchildren in Canada on yahoo messenger, and she saves on cd’s pictures she takes on digicam. She’s also an avid squaredancer for the past 7 years.
“I saw your pictures on the blogsite. I am proud to have an artist living in the apartment”, so goes her text message last night.
I replied, “Thank you. Am glad you saw them. But I do think I am fat in those pictures.”
“Well, it is quite fine. It doesn’t matter, you are not entering a BEAUTY CONTEST anyway,” came her quick response.
“Well, most of my friends think I don’t look like an artist, more like a policeman or a club bouncer,” I complained.
“Hahaha, well, you have to remember my brother when he saw you, he was afraid that you might be a kidnapper!”
I should have just stopped at Thank You.
Note: PSG stands for Presidential Security Group. The president's security detail.