At this point of our lives, I can say that Ali and I have been through good times and bad – the worst of which was the tragic death of her son Miko last Dec. 29, 2003.
However, since it is Ali Sotto’s birthday today and I want her to be happy, I will only recall the happy moments we spent together and I swear there were a lot.
I have already written in this space about how I am still amazed by the fact that we were able to maintain our friendship (a really deep one) even if for about a decade we would only see each other once a year or twice at most.
Our problem was really geography. I am from the north (La Vista in Quezon City), while for the longest time she had opted to stay south (Tahanan Village in Parañaque). But through the phone (landline since I didn’t have a mobile phone until much, much later), she would counsel me about my problems even late at night (she was my nighttime psychiatrist, while Toni Rose Gayda was assigned to the day shift).
During the rare times we would see each other, we would meet halfway in Makati and it would be difficult to pry us apart since we knew it would take another year for us to have a snack or dinner again together face-to-face.
But irony of ironies, the day she finally moved to the subdivision next to mine in Quezon City coincided with my departure for the US in 1998. I didn’t see her again until her next birthday the following year (I had already returned by then) when she hosted a party at her Loyola Grand Villas house.
Then came what I would always consider one of the happiest phases of my life. This was the time I got myself a halfway house in a condominium in Greenhills and by a strange twist of coincidence, she also got herself one – right in the same floor as mine. Of course, her stay there wasn’t going to be permanent since she was just waiting for her papers to be fixed so she could join diplomat -husband Omar in his new post in Mexico City. In fact, she hardly had anything in her unit (she had bought that one as an investment) because even her nice plates and utensils had been packed and shipped to Mexico. But somehow, she got by – borrowing mostly (groan!) my things, including my favorite chair.
Day in and day out, we would see each other. But somehow I never got tired seeing her and I guess the feeling was mutual from her end – hopefully.
At one point, I got sick and she nursed me back to health. Since I couldn’t eat much solid food, she would always be in the kitchen making oatmeal for me. Actually, I’ve never liked the taste of oatmeal, but when you know it’s done as a labor of love (I know oatmeal doesn’t require elaborate preparations, but can you please allow me to be a little sentimental here?) it begins to taste good. Today, I am an oatmeal convert and I have begun to appreciate not only its taste, but also its nutritional benefits and I have to thank Ali for introducing me to that healthy food. (Of course, while she found it a pleasure to cook oatmeal for me, cleaning up the sticky pan afterward was another story – she would unceremoniously dump it on my cleaning woman Carmen.)
Then came the sinigang and adobo phase or our lives. Since she noticed I was on a steady diet of instant noodles because nobody else was around in the halfway house to cook for me, she volunteered to prepare our meals for as long as I provided the ingredients. Deal.
Her Sinigang na Baka surely tasted good (what is she a Kapampangan for if she couldn’t cook well?), but she cooked so much of it that it took us two weeks (for lunch and dinner) to finish the whole big pot of that dish. (She just kept adding broth every day.) I swear it took two to three years before anyone could make me eat sinigang again.
After that came adobo. For another two weeks, it was adobo festival for the two of us.
Ali was supposed to stay in that unit for only about a month or so. But her papers took so long be processed that before I knew it, it was my time to leave for the US to work on my re-entry permit. Before I left for the States, we already said our goodbyes and I gave her the key to my unit just in case she needed anything from there. She had free access to it and to all the stuff in my place (especially my phone) until it was time for her to leave for Mexico.
But what do you know, when I returned after my month-long stay in the US, she was still there, waiting for her papers to be processed.
"Nandito ka pa?!" I barked jokingly. Of course, deep in my heart, I was pleased my friend had not left yet and we had a little more time to enjoy each other’s company. Then it was finally time for her to fly to Mexico and I must admit I missed the things we would do together – but that didn’t include eating sinigang and adobo for sure.
Ali spent almost three years in Mexico with her husband. When they returned last year, Ali and I tried to see each other more often. These days, however, her schedule has become pretty hectic as she now anchors the newscast Sentro on ABC 5 daily. But even if we don’t get so see each other much, our friendship remains.
What is it about Ali that has made me love her as a friend? (I call her by her reall given name Aloha, by the way and had always been uncomfortable calling her Ali.) In the first place, Aloha – or, okay, Ali – is the most reasonable person I have met in my life. (To me, she is the voice of reason.) She is emotionally stable and has no hang-ups of any kind.
Also, you can treat her like one of the boys – maybe because in her life she had always been surrounded by men: a father who adores her, three brothers (she is the only girl in the family), a husband who worships her (or so Ali likes to think) and two very loving sons.
Somehow she has an answer to all my questions in life – like she was born in this world to guide me and knock some sense into my thick head.
Like I said, Ali and I had been through fun and rough times, but basically I’d like to think life had been very good to both of us. What makes it even more wonderful is the fact that we have always clung to each other in times of hurts, frustrations, grief and tragedy, but are still together to savor our many triumphs in life. To me, that is what friendship is all about.
Happy Birthday, my sweet Aloha!