CHAPTER FOUR
🇵🇭 "The 'Indio'"
Upon their arrival in the province of Pangasinan, their destination, their truck immediately proceeded to the town of Urdaneta. Here, they were allowed to sell even though they came from small farmlands.
This area was controlled by the government, so numerous checkpoints were scattered everywhere to ensure public safety. However, many areas were off-limits or forbidden to enter, especially the forests, due to the rebels hiding there.
Meanwhile, in town, the companions continued to sell vegetables to stores. Although Erik had a wound and hadn't fully recovered, he insisted on hawking his goods in the city to earn money.
This time, Kardo allowed him, but reduced the amount of vegetables he could carry so as not to overly exert the boy's body.
"Wait, Kuya Kardo, this is too little. I might not earn anything with this," the young man complained.
"If you don't want to get into trouble again, just listen to me and do as I say," Kardo replied.
Carrying the basket of vegetables on his back, Erik hurried away from the garage where they were staying. The young man was cheerful and determined to earn back the money he lost last night.
Erik couldn't be stopped from doing what he wanted, especially exploring a city. Someone like him didn't often see the things in the city, like television shows, fancy cars, and lively people.
For him, a city was truly alive because of its prosperous way of life, which was vastly different from the sluggish existence he grew up with in their small village.
While selling to some stores, he would also peek into other buildings to watch or look, which often led to shop vendors admonishing him and telling him to leave.
As he walked, he spotted a shop selling cell phones and gadgets. Although he didn't know what those gadgets were for, he was mesmerized like a child.
He also saw gadgets like PSPs and laptops being played by people inside. Afterward, he went to a game center and stood on the side to watch, as the glass served as the only barrier. He couldn't bring his basket of vegetables inside because of its size.
He was amazed by the young people who knew how to play, and he felt a pang of envy toward the students who were happily playing and laughing in front of him.
"City folks have it good," he whispered to himself, forcing a smile.
Lost in watching, Erik didn't notice how long he'd spent at the gaming establishment or arcade center.
He suddenly remembered that he still had vegetables to sell and needed to sell everything to earn back the money he lost. As a child, Erik also loved recreation and playing, so he sometimes couldn't help but waste his selling time just wandering around the city.
At that moment, he came across Spanish police officers who were patrolling the area. People avoided them and wouldn't even glance at them, as if they were afraid.
He paused for a moment to stare at a television show in a shop, but after lingering a bit longer, he noticed the approaching officers.
He couldn't take his eyes off them because he rarely encountered Spanish police while selling in the city. He was also fascinated by the officers' smart uniforms in the city, as they were grand and well-tailored.
In that instant, two officers noticed him and decided to make some money off him. They thought that people like Erik were easily intimidated and could be extorted, even over simple matters of following the law.
They immediately approached him and aggressively demanded his ID.
"Hey, indio (native), where is your ID? Do you have a permit to sell here?" one officer asked.
The ID the police officer was asking for was the National ID given to citizens to verify their identity and where they came from. Checking IDs was part of the officers' job to prevent loitering and to catch rebels within the city.
Erik couldn't answer, as he hadn't obtained an ID because it was expensive, and they didn't have time for the lengthy process. Kardo only obtained a list of their names for a permit when passing checkpoints.
Simply put, Erik knew he had no permit or papers to show the officers to prove they were allowed to sell. He also couldn't come up with an excuse because Kardo hadn't mentioned bringing a permit to town.
In truth, the authorities didn't usually look for such things from vegetable vendors like him because they were allowed to bring vegetables into the city without hassle, as it was necessary for daily life in every city.
Erik stammered, unable to say anything, while the officers continued to raise their voices to frighten him.
One officer pulled out handcuffs and threatened Erik with them, which made the young man panic even more, and he continued to plead with them. At that moment, the officers smiled at the young man's reaction because they knew they would succeed in extorting money from him.
Someone like Erik, who was unfamiliar with the system, was easy to scare. Because he had no idea how the law worked in a city, he didn't think to object to the police or ask about the correct procedure.
The officer put down the handcuffs and suddenly put an arm around Erik's shoulder, leading him away from the area. After walking for a short while, he whispered fake regulations and made-up penalties to further intimidate the boy. They suddenly mentioned that they required vegetable vendors to pay a small fee in exchange for allowing them to sell in the area, just like the legal vendors.
"Since you don't have a permit, you need to pay us 300 pesos so you can sell here," he said.
"HUH? 300 pesos??"
The young man was shocked by the amount they were asking for, but unfortunately, Erik had nothing to give them, as he had just left the truck. He had lost a lot of time wandering, so only a few people had bought from him.
Erik took out the meager earnings he had from selling vegetables and pleaded with the police to allow him to continue selling.
"What are you talking about? Hey kid, don't waste our time. Are you going to pay or not?"
As he expected, the two officers were displeased and threatened to simply lock the young man up and flog him repeatedly. Terrified of the punishment, the young man insisted they take the spare change from his sales and even offered carrots in exchange for the money.
"Idiot! Are you stupid, indio? What would we do with your carrots? We need money!" he shouted at the terrified young man.
They noticed the fear on the young man's face and knew he was telling the truth about his small sales amount.
They knew they couldn't take Erik to the station since they had no case to file against him, and they wouldn't gain anything from him if he couldn't provide money.
The officer immediately lost his temper out of disappointment and quickly turned his frustration on the young man.
"Worthless indio," he said, instantly kicking Erik in the side.
The young man slid to the ground, and the carrots he was selling, which were in the basket on his back, scattered everywhere. The officer did this even though they saw the bandage on his head and the cuts on his arms.
People were shocked to witness the police assaulting a child, but instead of helping the boy lying on the street, they quickly left, walking as if they were blind to what was happening.
It was the heat of the day, so many people were still passing through that street, but just like in the previous scenes, no one wanted to interfere. Even though they saw the abuse happening right in front of them, they were more concerned about avoiding getting caught up in the trouble the police were causing.
"AHH! Please stop! Please!"
The officer continued to shout at and insult him while kicking him in various parts of his body. As this was happening, the young man couldn't understand what to do or why the police officer was doing this to him.
"You're already useless, and you're not even beneficial. Trashy indios!" he said angrily.
He continued to kick Erik in the arm while he lay on the floor, as if disregarding his condition. Erik could only shield himself and couldn't fight back because he was afraid of them.
"You're ungrateful. We're already guarding you against the rebels, and you're still no good to us," he said.
It was clear in his mind that the police officer was striking him and was angry at him, as if he had committed a grave sin. He saw every person passing by avoid looking at him, as if they were pretending not to notice what was happening. He pleaded in his mind, hoping someone, anyone, would stop that officer.
"Hey, easy, mate. Let's go, we're just wasting time here," his companion said.
The officer was breathing heavily and sweating from hurting the young man. Exhausted, he stopped kicking and fixed his white polo shirt to maintain a decent appearance for others.
"Right. We might as well go have a drink at the indio bar," he said.
They left him as if nothing had happened, while Erik continued to endure the pain he sustained and just sat on the street.
Even after the commotion ended, no one wanted to help him, even though people were passing right in front of him.
He couldn't understand how great his sin was to be physically abused by a law enforcer, but he also thought, what could someone like him, a mere outsider in this town, do in a situation like that, especially since he was just a child?
"It's my fault too. It's okay, Erik, I didn't have money for the ID, that's why this happened," he told himself to muster courage.
Erik didn't dwell on it anymore, and even though he was in pain, he moved to pick up his scattered goods on the road.
As he continued picking them up, someone suddenly approached him and picked up one of the carrots scattered on the street.
Erik noticed this and immediately stood up from where he was sitting to thank him and take what the man was holding.
"Wait, kid. Are you okay? You look like you're in bad shape," the man asked with concern.
This man was also Filipino, with short, bright black hair, in his 20s, and had a good physique.
He was well-dressed in a red long-sleeved shirt and black pants, which suited his chinito (Chinese-featured) and gentle face.
He offered to help Erik carry his load, but the young man refused.
"Oh no, thank you, I can manage this."
He smiled at the young man and introduced himself as Alfredo. He was a vendor at one of the shops in town and just happened to be out wandering at that time.
"Are you new here?" he asked.
The truth was, this wasn't Erik's first time going to the town of Urdaneta, but unlike the previous situation, he hadn't encountered the Spanish officers when he was alone.
"I don't know why, but you seem clueless about the customs of the Spaniards here in town, and you managed to stare at them and stop earlier," he said.
"It was just a coincidence because I was watching a show on television in a store," the young man replied.
"You know, for the police not to target you here, don't stare at them and just let them pass as if they don't exist. The things they can do to people like us, using their right to enforce the law, are no joke," he added.
He said it was better to stay away and avoid them when he saw police because those kinds of incidents would happen again and again.
Erik didn't fully understand the last part of what he said, whether he was hinting at something or what, because he was smiling and calm, as if he was just joking.
He approached closer and helped Erik pick up the carrots and put them in his basket.
~ Erik's Point of View ~
A few minutes later, we had picked up all my goods. I don't know why Alfredo was helping me, but I was extremely grateful to him because, honestly, my body was still in pain.
I introduced myself and thanked him. He was surprised when I mentioned I was from Lingawin in Ifugao province. He smiled and said he admired a young vegetable vendor like me who diligently traveled just to earn money.
A little while later, he took my carrots from me.
He insisted on carrying my basket, and even though I said I still needed to sell and hawk my goods, he offered an even greater help: to accompany me in selling so that someone could carry my carrots.
"Oh, no, Kuya, I can sell by myself."
I was doubtful of him, but he said he was doing it willingly, with nothing in return, because I was his fellow Filipino, and it was his habit to help those like me.
"It's normal to help someone in need, right?" Alfredo said, smiling.
I was surprised by what he said, and he seemed to have a point that you should help people in need.
But it was surprising that he agreed to accompany me to sell carrots on the street, even though it was his day off. It seemed suspicious. Wasn't that too much? I didn't know how to react. My head was throbbing because of what happened, and I thought it wasn't a bad idea to ask for help.
That's right. Maybe he's just a genuinely kind person who is used to helping others in need. I shouldn't waste this opportunity because I need to earn money.
I agreed to his help and let him carry my basket. He even complimented me when he noticed how heavy it was, and that I was able to carry it without a problem.
The truth is, what I was carrying was only about 10 kilos, which was nothing compared to the more than 20 kilos when it was full.
My body was already used to carrying loads because I also acted as a carrier for other vegetables when there were no carrot deliveries.
As we walked through the city, I couldn't help but observe him and frown at the obvious effort Alfredo was exerting. He was struggling and clearly burdened by the load, but he still wouldn't let go of the basket just to help me.
I felt guilty and uneasy. Should I let him continue doing this? It was obvious I was stronger than him.
While selling, we talked about the city. Alfredo was a city native. Maybe it wasn't as developed as Manila, but it was still a city.
He asked about my job and what I did as a vegetable vendor. I don't know why, but he wanted to know the routes we took and the time we left because he was interested in the life of a vegetable vendor.
"Being a vegetable vendor is hard, but the fun part is we get to go to different places, especially cities like this," I said.
"Cities? That's weird, but why do you like the city?" he asked.
"I don't know if you'll understand, but for someone who grew up in the mountains like me, the city is amazing," I added, smiling at him.
It was fun chatting with Alfredo about many things. To be honest, this was the first time I had talked to a city person, and I was lucky that Alfredo was so kind. We continued talking until we realized our stock of carrots was almost gone.
He mentioned many things the city had, like different kinds of animals in the zoo and delicious breads they called cake, along with modern technology that allowed you to talk to people even when they were far away.
There were still many things he mentioned about the city that I didn't understand, but maybe someday I would be able to fully comprehend them.
Honestly, I wanted to experience the things Alfredo experienced living in the city. I wanted to be like him, living in a progressive town.
"I envy you. You know, if I had the chance, I would want to live in the city like you," Erik said.
I said those words to Alfredo and mentioned my dream to him. It was a selfish thing to say, but I told him,
"I wish I were a city person like you."
The reason I said that was because I didn't want to live a hand-to-mouth existence in the province anymore. You had to fetch water from the mountain and buy candles from afar just to have light. It wasn't like the city, where everything was complete and you had places for recreation, like the games in an arcade center.
In the middle of my cheerful narration of the unusual things in the city, I noticed a change in Alfredo's facial expression. I couldn't tell why, but it seemed like I had said something that saddened him.
"Is there a problem? Did I say something bad?" I asked him.
At that moment, he gently tapped my head with his hand, as if trying to stop me. It was soft, but because my head was wounded, I felt it and stopped talking.
He immediately smiled at me and apologized, without specifying what for.
"I'm sorry, Erik, but maybe you'll understand me someday," he said seriously.
"Huh?"
I didn't know why he was apologizing to me. I saw the blankness in his eyes, as if he was disappointed or remembering something. At that moment, I suddenly recalled Kuya Kardo apologizing to me. I didn't fully understand what older people thought about apologizing, but maybe someday I would understand them too when I got older.
I don't know, but the people I meet and interact with seem weird. A moment later, we continued walking and passed in front of a supermarket.
At that moment, student kids came out of the establishment. Five boys around fifteen years old, still wearing the white uniform of the school they attended.
They were happily laughing while carrying bags of snacks they bought inside. They were rowdy and talking among themselves on the road.
A moment later, just as we were about to pass them, I was suddenly shocked by what one of them did.
"Throw this away, indio," the student said.
Unexpectedly, one student threw the juice he was drinking at Alfredo. It hit his chest, and the leftover drink spilled onto his shirt.
I couldn't believe it, and what was worse was that the students didn't seem to care and just continued walking as if nothing happened.
I couldn't stop myself and shouted at them. I didn't know why Alfredo didn't seem to plan on appealing and was just standing there, but I couldn't bear it.
"Hey, why did you do that?!!" I yelled at them.
They stopped and their group laughter ceased. They turned to me, looking surprised at my action of stopping them.
"What's your problem, indio?" he asked, as he seemed to show a bracelet he was wearing on his right arm.
~ That golden bracelet was proof that you came from a wealthy family. ~
I couldn't understand why he was pointing to the bracelet he was wearing, but I bravely told them that they needed to apologize to Alfredo for what they did.
"What you did to him was rude. Weren't you taught proper manners?"
They looked surprised by what they heard from me and suddenly burst into laughter. I didn't know if I had said something wrong for them to laugh at, but I repeated what I wanted to say to them.
As I insisted again that they apologize, one of them seemed to get annoyed, and his tone of voice changed, as if he was intimidating us.
"If you don't want to get hurt, just go home."
"Apologize to my companion."
"Are you serious, indio, about what you're saying? You want me to apologize to servants like you?" he said.
I was surprised and confused by what he said. I couldn't imagine why he called both Alfredo and me servants.
"I'm not a servant, I'm a vegetable vendor," I told them.
But at that comment, they laughed even harder. I don't know if their laughter had a reason or if they just wanted to make fun of me as a group.
"Stupid! An indio is an indio, so you're all the same," he said.
Because of what I heard, I couldn't help but respond to them. I didn't want to fight, but I knew we were in the right, and it was only normal for me to defend that because it was my right.
"I don't know what your problem is with us, but it's normal to apologize when you do something wrong to another person," Erik replied to them.
Just like their initial reaction, they didn't appreciate my bravery. The student clenched his fist and threatened us to teach us a lesson to know our place and whom to respect.
I didn't want to fight, and all I wanted was for them to apologize out of respect, but it seemed it wasn't that simple for them.
They were ready to attack us, but before they could get closer, Alfredo stepped in front of me and knelt before them. His sudden kneeling and begging to the students were shocking.
"That's enough. He doesn't know what he's doing, so please just overlook his arrogance... please."
I was even more confused and speechless by what was happening. Those students were the ones who were wrong, so why do we have to be the ones to apologize to them?
Alfredo didn't let me speak and explained to them that I was a provincial boy who knew nothing about the city's ways. I don't know why, but he was asking for their forgiveness for me, as if my act of defending him was wrong.
"Bro, let's go. You'll just get dirty if you beat them up. We still have to go to the mall."
"Tsk, tell that kid to know his place."
A moment later, they walked away. Their faces were irritated, and they hurled insulting words before finally leaving.
I felt like we were humiliated for no reason. It wasn't fair; I couldn't accept it, but I didn't want to speak because of Alfredo's plea.
"Your ignorance about things will put you in danger," he suddenly said, then walked away.
"HUH? Wait, why is that? Why did you say that? Aren't you going to do anything?"
Quietly and calmly, Alfredo picked up the juice container from the ground and walked away, as if looking for a trash bin to dispose of what he was holding. I followed him and called out, but he seemed not to hear me and just walked straight ahead.
I couldn't understand why he didn't protect himself when he was being oppressed, and worse, he even apologized to them. I wanted to know.
What is happening in this city?
Because of my persistent questioning, he suddenly stopped walking and spoke to me. Words that greatly confused my mind.
"The answer is simple, Erik. Because we are Indios, and they are Spaniards," he said, unable to look me straight in the eye.
Shame was visible on Alfredo's face as he uttered those words.
Indio? What does that mean, and why do the Spaniards call us that?
"Huh?" was the only confused response I could give him.
~ End of Chapter ~