Secretary Gil

He said to end his message today, (paraphrased): '..thank you for the opportunity to be of service to all of you...I know that along the way, I have done wrong, for that I ask for your forgiveness...I am leaving with a heart that is thankful and have forgiven, too...' Everyone in the room replied with applause. Not thunderous, restrained even, I felt. The team incoming was in the audience and perhaps many among us thought it was awkward to look sad, and to afford the appropriate respect to the man who led this department for the last five years, by clapping more enthusiastically. I wanted to stand, for God's sake. But I did not, lest I will be looked at as attention-seeking, from the perspective of the 'old' and the 'new'. I really did not care, but I did not stand up just the same. Lost once again in this battle of wills. 

We were not really friends, Sec Gil and I. The closest we could call what we had as friendship is the minutes we spent smoking. It was not intentional, these meetings in designated smoking areas whenever we had conferences. We were both forced into the 'small talk' because we were in the same place to get our nicotine requirements at given times. He stopped smoking, and there went, too, the chances we had to talk more. About stuff. Whenever I saw him at these designated smoking areas, already there with a lit stick, if he did not notice yet, I would manuever and shift my gear to reverse. I was scared shit of the man, because I knew he had been a recipient of some idiot's text messages about me, and the sender's perception of who I am. Nonetheless, he did not utter a word about all that to me, but this kind, gentle man, USEC JoGra, relayed his messages to me about 'all that'. 

More than the issue, however, the man is brilliant. And when I say brilliant, I mean it in its very sense. I recall watching his interview with ANC years back when he was then just appointed to the Cabinet. I thought, goodness, 'ang galing'. He looked like a snob on tv, though, and true enough, when we got to work with him, he is indeed 'suplado'. He tried not to be, in fact, his laughter would echo across the halls while he found time to banter with his Regional Directors. But still, we knew we would all look trying hard and stupid when we try to as much as engage with intellectual discourse with him. 

I guess I am saddened to see him go because I did not have the time to learn from him more. Maybe one more conversation or two would have helped me become a better manager, or a better person. If there is one thing I saw through his persona, it is his passion for service to our farmers. He desires for a better life for the Filipino farmer, not because it is our mandate as a department, but because the Filipino farmer deserves such. He visited our province a month back, travelled by plane and land for almost 24 hours to get to an upland project site. He went through the niceties of a prepared program, ate what the farmers there was able to afford, and spoke to field employees. Before leaving the place, he walked his way along the old men and women who farmed most of their lives:  their skins sun-scorched, their hands roughened by the rigorous farm tasks, their backs curved as if to emphasize the hardships we all know too well besetting our farmers, sturdy sticks of wood served as makeshift canes keeping their balance. I looked  at him, and then the old farmers' faces: they did not know what to make of this man, his intimidating presence, and he was approaching them. They all pretended not to see him, their eyes averted his. He took the hand of an old woman, his fair skin against the wrinkled and darkened hand he took, bowed and put her hand on his forehead for a 'mano', the Filipino's way of bestowing utmost respect. The old woman was taken aback, then smiled as he went to do the same for the others with her. 

And so Sec Gil leaves this department on that note: in humility. Now I realize, I do not need another conversation with the man. All I need to do for me to learn from him is to recall that moment, with him, and this old woman from one of the forgotten places somewhere in Ilocos Sur.