'Batchoy' incident and Tagore's servant

"God's dream is that you and I and all of us will realize that we are family, that we are made for togetherness, for goodness, and for compassion."
Desmond Tutu

By Alex P. Vidal 


THIS is a true story I will never forget for a long time. 
My friend, a city tourism employee assigned in the old Iloilo airport, and his wife, ordered batchoy (hot native beef noodle soup) in a popular batchoy restaurant inside a giant mall in Iloilo City one Sunday afternoon.
They just came from the church, they were bejeweled and neatly-dressed. 
I was in another table adjacent to the couple and we chatted about their niece, a nurse who just left for the United Kingdom, while waiting for our orders.
After a few minutes, a scrawny-looking waitress arrived ready to serve the hot meals in three bowls -- two La Paz batchoy for the couple and one sotanghon batchoy for me. 
As the lady server was preparing to put the bowls on the table, she lost balance and slipped. 
She accidentally dropped one bowl containing a smoldering batchoy straight into my friend's head, while his wife received another bowl on her body and lap. 
Several noodles and sprinkles of soup landed on my face like hot raindrops. 
The couple scampered away from their seats, dancing like they were avoiding the firecrackers.
They screamed and shouted expletives as other customers watched in horror.


HYSTERICAL


Shocked, the waitress became hysterical and didn't know what to do. 
Fighting back tears, she apologized in hoarse voice, shaking. 
Cooler heads prevented the wife, more embarrassed than hurt, from slapping the waitress.
But the couple took turns in cursing her loudly and violently; they questioned her culture. 
They threatened to sue the waitress and the management. 
She broke down while fellow waitresses came to her rescue, asking apology and trying to cool down the couple.
Some of them wiped off residues of noodles and beef from my friend's face. 
"Sir, ma'm, pasensiaha lang ako indi ko hungod aksidente lang gid to. Malooy kamo wala pako katulog kay nagpulaw ako sa hospital may dengue bata ko (Sir, ma'm, please forgive me it was an accident. I beg for your mercy, I didn't have enough sleep last night because I attended to my child who is a dengue patient in the hospital)," she pleaded. 
I managed to convince my friend to persuade his wife to forgive the waitress and leave the place because the commotion has distracted other customers. 
They transferred to the adjacent Dunkin' Donuts. 
As they left, they continued to give the waitress dagger looks.


TAGORE'S SERVANT


Another story has parallelism to the batchoy incident. The great Hindu poet, Rabindranath Tagore, tells us a story in exquisite poetry. 
His servant did not come in on time. 
Like so many philosophers and poets, Tagore was helpless when it came to the less important things in life, his personal wants, his clothes, his breakfast, and tidying up the place.
An hour went by and Tagore was getting madder by the minute. 
He thought of all sorts of punishment for the man. Three hours later Tagore no longer thought of punishment. 
He would discharge the man without any further ado, get rid of him, turn him out.
Finally the man showed up. It was midday. 
Without a word the servant proceeded with his duties as though nothing had happened. 
He picked up his master's clothes, set to making breakfast, and started cleaning up.
Tagore watched this performance with mounting rage. 
Finally he said it: "Drop everything, and get out."
The man, however, continued sweeping and after another few moments, with quite dignity he said: "My little girl died last night."