everyone has his own story

they grace earth with such color and elegance. redefining the word beauty as they strut their hips in such rhythm. their body nearly bare. clothes hanging almost on the edge of their souls. they laugh as if they were concealing something. they smile to atleast draw the same line on other peoples' lips (or atleast thats what their intentions were).

but despite their presence, no one really knew who they were or understood why there were there. and that even i, could not claim i know nor understand.

people, just like most people, only thought of one thing, that they are just sores that give their place a bad name.

someone once told me that eavesdropping and/or staring at someone is rude. but for me, judging them is far more worse.

the other night, we were having cups of warm drinks and a tasty conversation, when i noticed a group took the table just across ours. believe me, you'll never fail to miss them if you were there.

at first glance, i thought that they were just a simple group of friends having their regular afternoon tea. but then in an instant, i suddenly noticed how their eyes moved like winter birds and how their gestures caressed the air. it was an instant give away. but there was something more; their attention didn't settle to any man that passed them by.

it was as if they were into a hunt. a game that only the preys know.

suddenly the cafe's guard started walking away from his post. then i noticed the sudden but gradual change from his welcoming smile to every customer that walked in to an arrogance that could not be described, as he approached them.

in the table, one of them even raised his cup and took a deep sip. but it didn't stop the guard. then tension nerves appeared. the once fierce and calling eyes mellowed down to mere pairs of dark balls filled with fear.

i didn't catch what they were talking about. they were just too far from our table. but what i saw next, surprised me.

the guard checked and lifted one of their paper bags, with his arrogance still unmoved. i could see how difficult it was for them to answer and no one even tried to take back what the guard was holding. now, everyone is watching them.

what is the guard asking them? is he asking if they really bought those things? is he implying that they shoplifted it? why are they not reacting violently? why do they look so scared?

questions flew inside my head like papers being swept away by the afternoon breeze. i could think of a million possible scenarios from all the movies and stories i have watched and read. but it seemed like nothing really fit in. until the guard took the bag away and put it inside a box near his post. surprisingly, still no one in the table reacted.

so what's the real score?

when the guard put back his welcoming smile and stood beside the wide and heavy glass door again, the group started talking. they look like they were conniving and cooking something. one by one they stood up and walked toward different directions until only one was left.

then he stood up, went to the guard post and retrieved his paper bag. the guard took it from his shelf and politely handed it over to him. he then went back to his table and slowly finished his cup of tea. and the hunting game resumed.

after a while, i noticed a middle age caucasian passed by, went inside the cafeteria, ordered a cup of coffee and sat three tables away from us. it was no big deal since a good number of foreigners usually go to this mall. but that scene actually gave me, the huge piece of the puzzle that i am missing. and it was later confirmed when the caucasian walked pass us and casually sat beside him. then a transaction was made and they left the place together.

later that night, an acquaintance told us about how these groups are now being driven away by cafes inside this mall. despite the running courtesy rule of big coffee shops around the world, that prohibits them from doing so regardless if they are buying customers or not.

only in the philippines, he added.

in this kind of situation, i have only three things to say.

first, its agitating how people have devised ways to stereotype this kind of preference to mere act of prostitution, to a point that even celebrities or people with big names are of no exemption.

how we dress reflects only a part of who we are and not the entire story of our life.

second, its just sad to know that nowadays, a filipino can feel so alienated to his own country, whenever a foreigner is situated in the same place that s/he is. probably thats the problem of us being too hospitable to other people other than our own. we just keep on thinking foreigners are messiahs: great and kind. while us on the otherhand, are just any other brown skin guy up to something not good.

lastly, yes, i am against prostitution but not to those being prostituted (which i think should be more politically correct term for the word prostitute). thing is, not because someone does something immoral, makes us above them. the morals that we have, will never give us the right to do something bad against their like. there are proper venues.

now, i wonder. what if it will be a group of prostituted foreigners wearing the same kind of clothes and behaving the same manner as they do, will the guard still approach them? will the people around them think of the same thing against them? or will it be an entirely different thing?

come to think of it, all of us have our own flaws. its just that its different from others, for its based upon our own life stories. thus, this makes us not entirely different from them.

all of us have stories other people don't know and may not understand.

*photos taken from the movie irreversible