by Vilfe Bacus
I missed this. That’s the first thing that came out of my mouth as I approached the entrance gate of our wet market this beautiful sunny morning. Back when I was still in my college years, I was the one in charge of buying food to be consumed for a week. Much likely, I knew when and where was the best store to buy goods with a reasonable price.
Then, the pandemic came, and I witnessed how stores—from fish to vegetable stores—transited from everyday selling to a community lockdown for a week or two, to a skeletal opening schedule, and, currently, to being almost fully open. So, I did what my usual route was whenever I go to my cousin’s store for morning coffee. But then, I had to pass through the meat and chicken section, which was hushed during the peak of the pandemic late year 2020. It was almost packed with morning shoppers now, the same as in the spice store section and the fish section.
After having a good talk with my cousin, I went for a walk to “Tabuan.” It’s called Tabuan because that’s where people meet suppliers unloading their products, such as fruits and vegetables, then consumers buy superb goods they can have at the lowest price. Last time I went there, I saw the majority of stores covered up by tarpaulins, taking a break for the lack of profit. They were now fully packed of newly purchased products for selling that could last for a week or two. As I was roaming around the market, I just loved how the morning sunlight struck their food display—like telling me “Buy me! I’m good, fresh, and healthy!” Haha, just kidding. I saw a customer having a good time talking to a vendor while serving a scope of her fish paste product. A store owner was enjoying his morning coffee, energizing himself to convince more customers in one of his hustle days.
Resilience? I think that’s given. We are human creatures that can eventually adapt to changes. However, I saw something deeper than that. I saw love. Resilience came right after the deepest reason why they are doing it. They risk going out and willingly sell till they exhaust all the products in order to gain profits and repeat the cycle. I saw a mother thriving to sustain her child’s online class expenses. I also saw a family helping one another in their small business of eatery, which is what we usually call “karenderia,” to sustain their living. I’m proud of my cousin continuing my uncle’s business—now her coffee shop—or what we call “painitan.” In spite of decreasing customers due to health protocols, she still serves hot chocolate coffee with sticky rice or “puto maya” to her valued customers so she can provide for the family expenses.
I saw not just vendors being resilient during this trying time of pandemic but individuals continuing to live not just for themselves but for the families they have at home—to put food on the tables and give what’s best for their families. Cliché as it is, for me, it’s still beautiful and inspiring.
The government has been encouraging individuals to get vaccinated for protection or herd immunity, such that everything seems transitioning to normal once again, except for the strict requirement of wearing face mask and face shield. Hence, I’m looking forward to one of my morning shopping routines asking for a bundle of green beans, “Maayong buntag, ante, tagpila bugkot ani?” (Good morning, Aunt, how much is a bundle of these?) I would see her beautiful smile and hear her usual endearment “Langga, tag 20 rana.” (Darling, that’s only for 20 pesos.)
Until then, I’ll wait patiently.