THE UNTOUCHABLES

Which would you go see? Joey de Leon or Jose Rizal. Both are quite ok but let's go see a hero for crying out loud. I was there again, at the bastion of culture in the Philippines simply by the name attached to it. Zara made me wear this bohemian slut number since i was on a no permanent address basis. Yes, enough to seduce the the brainy alter ego of Andres Bonifacio and a little flirt with the arts will help. Thanks to you dear  zara on the block. My top was oozing with uptight mammary glands that i soon felt after breezing through the carpeted hall and the people taking time to look. Works for me.  I went there looking like Sisa since I was almost late on the first staging of Bien Lumbera's Noli Me Tangere by the Tanghalang Pilipino.

Watching the Noli brought me back to my St. Mary's catholic school girl days. We were required since it was THE play of our dear Jose Rizal not because it was the Noli. I wasn't really influenced by this play nor did it spark any of my interests in the performance art.

I was sitting next to a German lady and she kept on looking at the translations and she had binoculars as if the CCP's Little THeatre was the Royal Albert Hall. Wow. Such flair. Binoculars huh. And then i had this feeling that i was checking discreetly if this Nazi descendant or Steffi Graff fan? could comprehend what the play was about. Can she feel the weight of Ibarra when he found out that his father's corpse was transferred to a Chinese cemetery? Or did she understand that priests during those times had raging hormones? Would she think that Sisa is mad if it not for her fathomed hairdo?

Oh yes. It was a musical. A very untouchable musical with very untouchable songs suited for those who were trained by Ka Lucio San Pedro. Momentums are unexpected and i had this moment of connection when Ibarra and Maria Clara met again after being away for so long and in another country. You see when i was young i never had that feeling and the kissing part sent everybody of my classmates then to a whirring sound as if seeing a torero on live act. There are still a quite a few who do that anyway. Kuya Rody surprised me that he could sing. Wow. and he was padre Damaso at that with such disgust on Ibarra you can see it dripping all over.

In my peripheral view, i can see my 2 mothers who found me years then curling up with the desire to the art and the need to perform. They were there. My heart ached and i wanted to become a prodigal daughter. I saw Celeste smiling at me and ran to him like a lost sheep to a sheperd. Hugged him like a real hug of missing someone and not some superficial shoulder meets shoulder. It was good. ASked me if i learned French already. I told him i crossed fences. ASked me how i was. I said i have to go to the bathroom. I told him I was happy that i saw him again.

I went inside the posh urinals of CCP. Closed the door. Stared on the black wall.

I remembered the first play i watched in my life. It was in Fort Santiago. I was 5 years old. THe play was Faust. God was talking to Dr. Faustus on that scene i think. God was looking godly stepping on the ruins of Fort Santiago while looking down as Dr. Faustus was on the T-stage. And i thought that must be high.

TH black door of the urinal was so polished black i can almost see my reflection.

It was a good cry.