One evening I was sitting in
a taxi in Manila, when four women visited me. That evening was loaded with an
obscure feeling. It made me calm and excited at the same time. My taxi was – as
always in Manila – in a traffic-jam. I just visited my girlfriend and I was on
my way to my regular hotel in
Intramuros. Little lights, far out on the sea, sparkled in a
diffuse way right into my little, half-lit cabin. I thought of my sweetheart
and felt warm.
The taxi-driver, a friendly man in his late 50s, had his arms on the steering
wheel and stared outside. We both had our own thoughts for a while. Then he
broke the silence.
' Are you here for business or holiday? '
This sentence is usually not addressed out of interest, but to entice the customer to a dubious deal; concerning women, or hotels. But the man had such a quiet and open look that I decided, against my habits, to answer.
"I'm here for my girlfriend. She is Filipina and lives in Caloocan’.
' Are you here for business or holiday? '
This sentence is usually not addressed out of interest, but to entice the customer to a dubious deal; concerning women, or hotels. But the man had such a quiet and open look that I decided, against my habits, to answer.
"I'm here for my girlfriend. She is Filipina and lives in Caloocan’.
The man turned his head
towards me and looked attentively. With obvious suspiciousness I searched for irony in his eyes, but I didn’t find
such.
' You are here for love? That is good '
' You are here for love? That is good '
He put his arms back on the
steering wheel. We were silent for a moment. Then he continued:
' You come here often? '
I told him I did so, despite a rapidly shrinking savings-account. I winked at him. He did not respond immediately.
' Your girlfriend must be a special woman '.
I could not cope with the strong look in his eyes and the unusual respect I got as a westerner with a Filipino girlfriend. The man grabbed me inside, in no time, there, in that little cabin, somewhere in nightly Manila. To break the tension I asked him a question.
' Do you have a wife? And children? '
' Yes, two.
"what are their names? '
I told him I did so, despite a rapidly shrinking savings-account. I winked at him. He did not respond immediately.
' Your girlfriend must be a special woman '.
I could not cope with the strong look in his eyes and the unusual respect I got as a westerner with a Filipino girlfriend. The man grabbed me inside, in no time, there, in that little cabin, somewhere in nightly Manila. To break the tension I asked him a question.
' Do you have a wife? And children? '
' Yes, two.
"what are their names? '
He mentioned two American
names, the first of which was Madeleine. I found that a rather unusual name for
a Filipina and I told him that. He looked at me with twinkles in his eyes.
' Do you know how my daughter
got that name? '
I shifted, expecting a nice story. And it was.
' I have worked in Saudi Arabia. I was the personal driver of Madeleine Albright, the US Secretary of Foreign Affairs in the Clinton administration. She really liked me and I liked her. We talked a lot, about many things. But she also often asked about my wife, who lived in Manila and with whom I was just married. It felt good that she took an interest in my personal life.
Then I went home for a holiday. Well, you understand, when I returned to Saudi Arabia, my wife was pregnant. I felt like not staying any longer, resigned and returned to Manila and started working as a taxi-driver. And my daughter was born; Madeleine, named after my special friend'.
I hung on every word he said. This man did not speak about his wife, but about a lover. He didn’t show too much emotion on the outside but his voice was unusually soft and cautious when he mentioned her. The traffic-jam, fortunately, did not move too fast.
Then, unexpectedly, his phone rang. It was his wife. He started talking in English – probably because I was there.
' I’m on Roxas Boulevard -- Yeah, nice! A Dutchman -- Mmm ...we're talking ... about love and such'.
I shifted, expecting a nice story. And it was.
' I have worked in Saudi Arabia. I was the personal driver of Madeleine Albright, the US Secretary of Foreign Affairs in the Clinton administration. She really liked me and I liked her. We talked a lot, about many things. But she also often asked about my wife, who lived in Manila and with whom I was just married. It felt good that she took an interest in my personal life.
Then I went home for a holiday. Well, you understand, when I returned to Saudi Arabia, my wife was pregnant. I felt like not staying any longer, resigned and returned to Manila and started working as a taxi-driver. And my daughter was born; Madeleine, named after my special friend'.
I hung on every word he said. This man did not speak about his wife, but about a lover. He didn’t show too much emotion on the outside but his voice was unusually soft and cautious when he mentioned her. The traffic-jam, fortunately, did not move too fast.
Then, unexpectedly, his phone rang. It was his wife. He started talking in English – probably because I was there.
' I’m on Roxas Boulevard -- Yeah, nice! A Dutchman -- Mmm ...we're talking ... about love and such'.
He turned to me and winked.
His serious attitude had changed all of a sudden. With a slight blush and
nervous moving fingers on the steering wheel he continued the conversation.
Then his wife must have said
something teasing, because they both
laughed shy. And while I was contemplating on the secret of two people, married
for so long already and still having a great time, he said the words that touch
me to this day:
' But darling, don't worry. Somehow you always appear in my
conversations '.
It really hit me. Probably because I recognized myself in that sentence. But also because four women touched me, right there, in that small cabin. They reminded me that everyone on this planet is interconnected and that being together with those you love is the most important thing there is.
We continued talking about the subject of love but I don’t remember more of it. It was late, my driver spoke beautiful words, his taxi was cosy and my sweetheart closeby.
It really hit me. Probably because I recognized myself in that sentence. But also because four women touched me, right there, in that small cabin. They reminded me that everyone on this planet is interconnected and that being together with those you love is the most important thing there is.
We continued talking about the subject of love but I don’t remember more of it. It was late, my driver spoke beautiful words, his taxi was cosy and my sweetheart closeby.
