A time I was "tatay" and not "lolo"

My mother, may her soul rest in peace, had the privilege of being chosen as one of the country's pioneer social workers. Together with eventual Regional Director Lily S. Talagon, she was among the very first batch to have undergone a training in Manila to compose the skeletal organizational structure of a fledgling Social Welfare Administration, in the administration of the late Pres. Ramon Magsaysay Sr. Unlike now when the office is a separate department, the SWA then was just an office attached to the Office of the President. Oh, yes, the SWA was the forerunner of the present Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD).

I was a young boy then when I witnessed how the SWA became the government's frontiersmen to attend to victims of calamities. Each time a natural disaster struck, my mother, under whose charge were seven municipalities in Bohol, namely, Candijay, Alicia, Mabini, Ubay, Talibon, Trinidad and Sierra Bullones, was the case officer, recorder, damage evaluator and distributor of relief goods, all rolled into one. Incidentally, when our family moved to Southern Leyte, she was initially in charge of seven towns also. Those municipalities were Padre Burgos, Malitbog, Bontoc, Sogod, Pintuyan, San Francisco and Liloan.

It must have been her spirit that prodded me to volunteer my services last Monday, in the repacking of relief goods organized by the DSWD. Really, the very moment I heard from a television report that DSWD was calling for volunteer workers, I decided that I would not do anything else that morning but to extend my hand in the hope that the earlier the goods were repacked-ready for distribution, those in need could just as quickly, receive the aid.

Before I went to the Cebu International Convention Center (or what is left of it after the Oct. 15, 2013 earthquake), I sent text messages to a few friends and some of my law students. I told them that I was offering my morning to a labor of love that had to be done fast. I did not even hint that they should join me but with their most heartwarming responses, I knew that that morning was blessed.

I intended not be to noticed at all even by friends, should they be there. So, I simply wrote my nickname on a record book for volunteers placed on a table at the basement of CICC, then moved to the area where a brief orientation was conducted. Afterwards, we were led to an area where a cardboard written with a large letter D was hanging. As we injected humor later, we called ourselves Sector D. In our group were a teacher-nurse from a local university, an engineer of VECO, a maritime student living in Mandaue City, a balikbayan, among others. But no one cared to give out his/her name. Everybody was plainly bai, day, dong.

Our task in Sector D was very simple. The assignment was to put about three kilos of rice to a plastic container. For some inexplicable reasons, we just jelled together as if we were long lost co-workers and labored with unbelievable efficiency. We could finish transferring the contents of one sack of rice into the plastic container in just two minutes!

When the only desire of everyone is to be involved in a relief operation, the environment created is one of lightheartedness and joy. Take this example. When the loaders were about to pour rice to our box, someone called out to me saying "tabi usa tay.". I knew there was only respect in so addressing me. My reaction was equally one of humor. I said, "maayo dinhi da, kay di kaayo ko tiguwang. Tawgon ra gud ko ninyo ug tatay. Didto sa amo, lolo ilang tawag nako". And everybody burst into unabated laughter.

The environment in my late mother's time was uncannily similar. Responding to a disaster was a burdensome task she could not do alone. Volunteers made her work a lot lighter. Everybody who was there was driven by no other motive than to be of some help and that should explain why last Monday, our workplace was filled with friendliness, camaraderie and care.

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