Her last trip

Working in an office along Ayala Ave. has its perks. It's not only cool to be working in the midst of Makati's commercial and business district, it's also convenient -- there are many modes of public transportation readily available, from taxies, to PUJs, to FX rides to buses.

Given the prominence of the businesses lining Ayala Ave., it is also host to many cause-oriented rallies and activities - a fact I appreciated for the first time last Monday when it became part of the route for the transfer of the late President Cory Aquino's flag-draped coffin from La Salle Greenhills in Quezon City to the Manila Cathedral in Intramuros.



Although considered the activist in the family, I have never considered myself rabid. I have often been a curious onlooker, checking out the crowd but never really staying. The last time I attended a rally was at the height of People Power when we demonstrated outside a PNP detachment in Cebu to protest the Marcos regime. Only later would we know that Cory then was being hidden by the Carmelites in Mabolo nearby.

It was Cory again who brought me out into the open. This time, it was not curiousity that made me wait for almost two hours under the midday sun, but a desire to pay my respects to a truly great person in what I knew would be the last time. Well, since I was out anyway, I also agreed to cover the event for the office that I work for.

We filled the streets. Unlike previous rallies along Ayala Ave. where we would see "hakot" crowds, we saw very familiar faces. Practically all of us were out -- even top-level executives. We kidded each other, befriended those carrying umbrellas, teased those in heels -- and there were many of us, some even wearing blazers. We ignored the sweat gathering under our uniforms. We took photos of each other using our mobile phones, traded jokes while waiting. Others even talked shop
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Armed with a video camera, I positioned myself strategically. It wasn't easy perching on top of one of the balustrades along the island, but I had help. Handing the camera over to a total stranger, I got a hand up from another bystander. There were no second thoughts about it. How could you think evil of people who were doing exactly what you were doing -- enduring the heat of the sun and the long wait just so they could honor Cory's memory?

When her party finally arrived, we involuntarily let out a cheer. "Cory, Cory" and we all flashed the Laban sign that we'd flashed oh so long ago, when we were still seeking to oust the dictator and bring democracy back. The democracy that she personified.
For a few minutes, I was carried away by the purity of the emotions sweeping the crowd. We were one people with one purpose. We smiled at one another. We sympathized with her family and with each other. We were all feeling a loss.

When her coffin edged past us, we slowly became ourselves again. Our thoughts were once again with work and what the afternoon calendar had in store, as we made our way back to our offices.

But it was a quiet crowd that dispersed. There were no raised fists or angry chants. We had gathered of our own free will, showing once again a nobility that the late Senator Benigno Aquino had first raised for all the world to see -- that the Filipino is worth dying for.

I am glad for moments like these. Twice, Cory made it possible. And it will take a long time before we see it again. For this, I thank her. I thank her for these moments when I am proud to be a Filipino.