"Filipino?"

Waiting impatiently somewhere in the 14th Street Subway Station, directly under Union Square, my face must have created some kind of an impression (negative, positive, or nothing, am not sure) to one of those guys who were doing works underground at around 1am.
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Filipino? (Are you Filipino?)- he said

Ya - I nodded.

He stopped momentarily from walking, and proceeded to approach me.

100% Filipino? O may halo? (Are you mixed?)

100% - as I gave him a smile.

Saan ka dito? (Where do you live here?)

Sa Staten Island.

Kumusta? (How's it going?)- he asked, and I was delighted he didn't open the chat with this one liner.

Am doing good. OK naman ako.

Anong ginagawa mo dito? (What do you do for a living?)

Nagsusulat (I write)- as I tried to come up with a more pleasing stance. I appreciated his friendliness at this time of the night (errr, morning) as I wanted to go home soon, badly missing my bed. With the commute being slow on weekends, and the repairs always happening on the weekend, I doubted if this would happen.

Hmmmm, sa magazine?

Sa mga webpages. Sa internet. Marami na akong nasulat(....I've completed a lot of writings.).

Great! OK yan - as he smiles, and behaves like he's being enlightened by what I just said. And I felt I appreciated more the warmth of being approached by another fellow who speaks one of the languages I use in life (English, Tagalog, Spanish, a little bit of Nihongo, a little bit of Chinese, etc etc etc, I could go on).

Dito, OK lang...except pag may aksidente...I will just say 'Di kasi marunong mag-Tagalog' (Everything's OK with me, except when there's an accident; I'd say: it's because he doesn't know how to speak Tagalog.)!!- as he tries to continue with the chat.

I nodded, signaling him that I wanted to hear more. But he cut it short, as he had to go, as their works are ongoing at that time of day.

Ingat ka (I need to go. Take care!)- I then tried to close the chat.

Kaw din (I wish the same to you)- with a surprised look at his face, for some reason unknown to me.
I went on smiling.

Busy kami (We're busy tonight.)- as he tries to describe why he's around at that time. I could see that.

I just kept nodding, but not saying much, and at the same time, being friendly. It's seldom these days that I get approached by another Filipino. Or even I myself, trying to approach another Filipino I meet on the road. Most Filipinos here in NYC try to keep arms length distance from each other, unless they know each other personally or beforehand, though this is not a sure-fire assurance you'd be chatted with by someone who looks like [s]he's from the Philippines. The attitude to carry or to show is like saying "Leave me alone" whenever you meet another Filipino-looking fellow on the street. Or just simply "Give me my well-deserved, little space. I'm minding my business, so mind yours."

Well, this is one of those exceptions. Moving on meant, among other things, living a life different from what you used to do. I can only surmise, just like me, he didn't really used-to-work in construction or maintenance sites like this in the subway system, back in the Philippines. I got distracted by a cute rat, rummaging in the dirt down in the tracks. Just like that rat, each one of us, helps feed ourselves daily. I have a feeling a little not-so-awkward socializing, admittedly, helps, to some extent. I've observed it's best that I actively meet up and build good friendships with people from other races (different skin color, different looks, different attitude, different outlooks in life), as NYC offers a lot of opportunities for such - it's to my own failure if I don't meet up with people who are not exactly from the Philippines, as I'm already living and working here in NYC. But it does not much matter really, as long each one of us who happened to be still here, is happy doing what we're supposed to be doing, according to God's plan.

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