Moved

It was 12:30pm, the usual lunch time. As I sat on my table silently nibbling through my packed lunch and chatting away with K, I had the urge to go out and stroll a little in Al Gurair Mall near my office. I told K that I was going out to look for a pair of gloves and neck warmers for his brother-in-law who is going to Canada soon. I don't go out for lunch that often now because the blazing sun was really scorching my skin, it is still summer here in the city built within the desert, Dubai.

Slowly, I walked under the shelter of my umbrella. Slowly, because my feet started to sweat and I was slipping on my slip-ons. As I passed the nearby shops along the narrow street leading to the main road across the mall, I overheard a conversation between three men, one man actually, since the other two who were listening to the man speaking were obviously gays who work in the salon where they stood. I barely heard what was it all about but I had the gist that the guy talking was begging. It was already a cliche and so I just walked on until I reached the comfort of the mall, cold enough to dry my sweating body.

I was not able to find what I was looking for but I got myself a cheap shirt instead. Wee! Very typical of me! As I traveled down the same narrow street, I recognized the same guy who was begging with the gays earlier, but I just passed him. But I was surprised when I realized that he turned and caught up with me.

He was barely thirty based on my assumptions, quite short and thin and he was wet with sweat all over. As I stopped to look at him, he babbled on what I took was his practiced piece. He said that he was looking for compatriots to ask for help. He was here for six months already on a visit visa and was just saving enough money to go back to the Philippines. It was not the first time I heard this kind of story but I was astonished with myself at how easily I seemed to believe him and even pity him so much. He seemed to have problems with normal speaking, I guessed he had a harelip before, but his speech was still not that normal. But he was looking at me straight in the eyes while he was speaking. Sure there are a lot of people who might have grown comfortable with lying, able to look at you straight in the eyes, but I could feel he was different. I asked him why he didn't go to the consulate to ask for help, but he said he tried and just got shunted, he said somebody there told him that they were just helping people who get abused by their employers. He seemed to have silent tears behind his eyes while telling me his story. I asked him who invited him to come here in the first place. He said, it was his friend who already went home to the Philippines after he arrived here, and the same friend who promised him he already has a job waiting for him here. I took out two ten dirham notes and shoved them to him, telling him to still go to the consulate for help. I wanted to leave him immediately. I didn't know if it was because of his sad story or because of his deformity, but just the same, it has moved me.

While I resumed walking along the street, it made me think of a lot of things. The story of this man might have been a well-rehearsed lie, but still, there is the unyielding truth that a lot of people are out there suffering from their painfully twisted fates. Of the housemaids sexually and physically abused by their employers. Of the Filipinos continuously coming here everyday hoping that good luck will come their way. Of the people being deceived by their own compatriots. Of the many people stuck in various nearby countries waiting for help to get them visas to return to Dubai. Of the many women who had to sell their bodies for money. Of the many people too sick to come home. Of the people who were left by their own families. Of the many families in the Philippines waiting for their loved ones who might not return to them.

I was very blessed that I was not among them. I was very blessed that none of my friends do not suffer like those many. I was very blessed that I had enough, sometimes, maybe more than enough. But still, I was moved. I was nowhere near to be of help to them. I was as helpless as them to be able to help them. I was moved in this stillness to simply wish, hope and pray that they be blessed with a turn around of fate.