(Part 2 of 3)
(PART 1 in a capsule: Some people were born way beyond the poverty level and could survive their disheartening way of life but for somebody whose dignity was scorned and self-esteem pinned down further than what he could endure, liberating himself from such ruthless bondage was the right thing to do. Mark Gonjoran, the 3rd in a brood of 11 siblings and a self-confessed sex-slave by his own (male) cousin since he was barely 5, decided to abandon his family after high school graduation to seek for a change of life in Manila. Inadequately armed with merely 2 bottles of water, boiled bananas, and measly 250.00 pesos left after he paid for his fare, the young boy from Looc, Cabucgayan, Biliran was all set to face a new chapter of his uncertain journey.)
Enduring an avalanche of adversities
From mental exhaustion thinking about my parents and siblings I left behind while endlessly worried about the kind of life that awaited me in Manila (and not to mention the grumbling sound of my empty stomach), I was driven to a deep sleep. Well, I guess that was the best option I did at the moment. At least my body was recharged and my mind was free from brain-drilling personal tribulations.
Suddenly I was awakened by my seatmate who needed an extra space after taking full advantage of the rest area. She offered me a piece of hot pandesal (Filipino roll) with corned beef filling. She must have noticed that I never had a single break during previous stop over.
In a perplexing situation between hunger and curiosity, my uncontained excitement over sights of changing sceneries along the way eased everything…from verdant landscapes to gradual expanse of concrete roads and varied architectural edifices.
I was instantly lost in the thrilling vista of the bustling metropolis that greeted me. “So, this is Manila…!” I muttered to myself while experiencing a diminishing clarity of vision only to find out that my eyes were filled with tears… out of joy or fear, I never knew. As I wiped away my tears with the sandwich napkin, a huge signboard read: “Cubao Terminal” and finally realized I was in Quezon City after all.
The bus driver called out loud as I was the only passenger left. With my worn out backpack and plastic bags on both hands I slowly inched my way out and stomped my heavy feet against the concrete ground.
Amazed and startled with my new environment, I was reflecting if my decision to leave Biliran was right when somebody called my name. It was Mario, my distant relative and playmate who was there to pick me up.
We ended up in a cramped room in a squatters’ area in Caloocan City and shared his dinner of instant noodle soup, fried fish, and a huge platter of rice. It was one great meal for me, actually… having no hot meals for two days.
Updating stories about what was back home served as our appetizer and the funny reminiscence of our youthful days the dessert…relieving at the moment while hurting inside.
The first night seemed too long that I couldn’t even snatch a wink despite my fatigued body and weary soul. I merely stared at the web-festooned ceiling as I allowed my thoughts to flow freely and my heavy heart to rest. I was already seated against the wall even before the sun’s rays crept through the crevices.
With Mario’s patient orientation, I found my way around and got familiar with landmarks, signages, and main thoroughfares. A cup of black coffee and two pieces of pandesal plus my keen determination to find a job were more than enough to keep me wandering the entire day.
My initial attempt was futile but that didn’t hinder my intention. The money in my pocket got lesser despite attempts to escape meals and be on my feet to save. Until one day, Lady Luck smiled at me. I was hired as a spotter in a billiard center along 11th Avenue in Grace Park, Caloocan City and worked as part time houseboy. The three-kilometer walk didn’t matter at all…I sacrificed managing my time.
My job was light for me since my adrenalin drive was at its height. My boss, Mr. Lito Cruzado, was like a second father to me and I had no complaints. Later my work demanded more time and increased expenditures with nothing left for myself. I needed a better paying job.
Through an agency I was hired as a busboy reliever in Starbucks while simultaneously cleaning condominiums in Makati. Driven and motivated I also worked at the Manila Yacht Club where I learned the rudiments of table setting and customer relations.
A newspaper ad hiring waiters caught my attention. I called the Plaza Germina Restaurant office and was told to report for an interview. That time, Mr. Opportunity was indisputably with me. I was hired despite being a late applicant and was even invited to lunch with the owner, Mr. Ronnie Venzon. Later I was sent to the company’s official tailor for my uniform aboard the owner’s car which to this day I considered an extreme privilege.
I felt decent and presentable in my official outfit with a great workplace and justifiable pay. Serving and meeting big time customers gave me a different sense of satisfaction that earnestly boosted my aspirations. Every working day was a learning experience.
Until one day my focus was diverted when a regular customer handed me his business card. Respectable and obviously well-off he convinced me to try my luck in showbusiness since I had, he said, what it takes to make it big. That tempting offer left me in tormenting quandary. Accepting it would put me (again) in an unpredictable situation but ignoring it would spurn my childhood ambition to be in the limelight.
After a week I found myself infront of an antique-looking house somewhere in the Paco Park area for an appointment with Mr. Teddy Barrientos. Inside was a new atmosphere for me: expensive-looking furniture, ostentatiously displayed antique pieces, huge old ancestral house, spacious yard, and fleets of luxury cars.
For the first time in my life, I experienced to sleep in an air-conditioned room equipped with necessary amenities. My first night kept me awake just like before…dreaming of a much better life and a comfortable future. I was hoping it was the start of it all.
My new boss made me an all-around employee: housetaker, messenger, office secretary, and personal assistant but the most gratifying part was meeting face to face and dealing with celebrities I merely saw on TV, magazines, or the movies. Mr. Barrientos never failed to introduce me to everybody in the production and that alone gave me a fulfilling consolation.
Mr. Barrientos, having showbiz connections and directly involved in pageant productions, persuaded me to join one of his national male pageants where my personality was remolded and my self-confidence, instantaneously developed. My country boy image magically metamorphosed into a smartly urbanized guy that I could congruously blend in with the rest of the city-grown contest aspirants.
The pageant left even a deeper wound after I merely finished Top Ten. I could have reacted acrimoniously after the organizers gave me false hope but I guess the judging was fair and I had to openly adhere to it. At any rate, it did serve as a stepping stone for me to penetrate showbusiness. I did bit parts and a few significant roles in indie movies, television, and commercials.
Non-stop socialization ensued with constant late bedtime hours. Suddenly I got exhausted with their monotonous, non-directional lifestyle. I felt life was at a standstill and my dreams were left suspended in mid-air. That place and the people around it were merely dragging me after I started to give my life a little lift.
I made a quick decision. One year of wasted time was enough to fuel me back to where I began. I went with Richmond Mejia, the pageant winner who became my close ally, to his home province for a new place to revive my almost forsaken dream.
After being accepted as a Student Assistant in AMA Computer College in Lipa City, I studied BSBA (Bachelor of Science in Business Administration) major in Management. I worked in the morning, studied in the afternoon, and worked in a coffee shop at night. Due to physical and mental exhaustion and lack of food intake, I passed out and was hospitalized. My poor medical condition prevented me from going back to school.
In 2004, at the age of 23, I applied for an overseas job on a salary deduction basis…and once again, Lady Luck smiled at me. I worked in a hyper supermarket as a frozen product slicer with free accommodation and extra amenities. My life in Jeddah was initially doing great as I could already afford to save and send financial support to my family in Biliran.
I would say, I was a constant victim of appalling circumstances. One busy day a Filipino co-worker attacked me from behind out of envy. I was bathing in my own blood from cuts and bruises when my co-workers mediated. I was brought by law enforcers to the hospital handcuffed with chained feet (together with my assailant) only to be incarcerated after emergency treatment.. It took us a day before being released with the assurance that no complaint would be filed. We were booked for Manila on the first available flight without getting my last paycheck.
Dreaming for a good life was elusive…I almost gave up each time I failed. But I believed I was born a survivor. After suffering from a thousand and one pains, there was no reason for me to give up.
I got back to my elements and worked as a talent scout for Lala Flores Talent Agency for a year and did modeling and indie films on the side. After saving enough I took a chance again overseas as an office secretary in a Riyadh-based company supplying construction materials. That was one of the best years of my life. Everything went smooth from 2008 to 2010 and went home with everything I saved.
Business, they said, makes money grow…so I invested my savings in a coffee shop in Leyte with a partner. It did well in the beginning but started to lose before it turned a year. I didn’t know where it failed and why…after having invested my hard-earned money and all that I had. It seemed I lost everything in a game of chance with all my bets gone in a wink of an eye. (End of Part II)
To be continued: Don’t miss the final chapter of this moving saga of human adversity and adventure.
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