Let's talk about age
"We've been talking for almost two hours now and you still have to ask me how old I am. That's one of the first question people here ask me," he said.
We're dining impromptu, al fresco somewhere in UP Diliman, sitting on a curb, sandwich in both hands, drinks on the pavement, leaves falling around us. I just finished a couple of rounds around the university when he found me panting like a dog under a shady tree and we struck a conversation.
He's from South Africa, and I was hungry for news about the place. I have two South African journalist-friends. One died of AIDS a couple of years ago. The other I have not heard from for some time now.
"I don't ask people how old they are, because I know it's impolite. And in your culture, I know it is," I said.
"But you DO know how old I am, right?" he asks.
"Yes. You said you were supposed to finish high school during the end of apartheid. That was in 1990, you were probably 20, since you have 10 years of grade school and three years of high school, beginning from age 7. That makes you over 37, give or take," I said.
"You are right, amazing," he says.
"No, you are amazing," I said.
My South African friend dropped out of school at the tail end of the apartheid era and was sidetracked by the events in his country. Just recently, make that five years ago, he went back to school. He is raising a family while educating himself and is on a scholarship grant for higher education.
Let's talk about age.
I don't ask how old people are. After all, it is just a number. I also don't say "matanda ka na" as if it's a crime to be old. Heck, in our part of the planet, that is an accomplishment. I say "matanda ka na" when someone is behaving like a bratty toddler but old enough to father or bear children.
To inflict age - or aging - as an insult is a dim-witted, idiotic, moronic, small-minded way of judging people or their character.
I derive no pleasure nor pride in being born after other people.
Too, I see no reason why you should rejoice for being younger than me if I see no wisdom or accomplishment in you, by you.
What I like are people who amaze me, young or old people whose work and accomplishments defy their age.
I met a man who, just in his late twenties, gathered volunteers together, set up a library, and they have now taught hundreds of children how to read. In between, he earns a living and volunteers for an environmental NGO. He dives and bikes on the side.
I met a girl who set aside her high-paying job and high heels to serve communities in Mt. Apo as her way of giving back to the country.
There's this girl who read by street lamplights and slept in cartons but emerged on top of her class. She's going to college on multiple scholarship.
There's this man from a poor family who went to Harvard on a scholarship and he's just in his late twenties.
Yuichiro Miura was 70 years old when he scaled Everest.
And so before telling - nay, insulting - people about their age, measure their accomplishments and the odds they beat against yours. You might be found wanting because you are stuck in your shallow judgment of the people around you.
That people are born ahead of you is an accident. You exerted no effort for that, so you can't claim credit for or be gleeful about it.
What you do with your life and how you form your opinions, like using age as an affront is a testament to who you are - an imbecile in an adult's body.
Am I insulted by my age? No. However, I am insulted if it is used as a weapon against me: I hate finding myself in the company of a nitwit.
It means I failed in judging one's character and intellect. I thought - wrongly - that in my company was a smart person from whom I could learn something.
We're dining impromptu, al fresco somewhere in UP Diliman, sitting on a curb, sandwich in both hands, drinks on the pavement, leaves falling around us. I just finished a couple of rounds around the university when he found me panting like a dog under a shady tree and we struck a conversation.
He's from South Africa, and I was hungry for news about the place. I have two South African journalist-friends. One died of AIDS a couple of years ago. The other I have not heard from for some time now.
"I don't ask people how old they are, because I know it's impolite. And in your culture, I know it is," I said.
"But you DO know how old I am, right?" he asks.
"Yes. You said you were supposed to finish high school during the end of apartheid. That was in 1990, you were probably 20, since you have 10 years of grade school and three years of high school, beginning from age 7. That makes you over 37, give or take," I said.
"You are right, amazing," he says.
"No, you are amazing," I said.
My South African friend dropped out of school at the tail end of the apartheid era and was sidetracked by the events in his country. Just recently, make that five years ago, he went back to school. He is raising a family while educating himself and is on a scholarship grant for higher education.
Let's talk about age.
I don't ask how old people are. After all, it is just a number. I also don't say "matanda ka na" as if it's a crime to be old. Heck, in our part of the planet, that is an accomplishment. I say "matanda ka na" when someone is behaving like a bratty toddler but old enough to father or bear children.
To inflict age - or aging - as an insult is a dim-witted, idiotic, moronic, small-minded way of judging people or their character.
I derive no pleasure nor pride in being born after other people.
Too, I see no reason why you should rejoice for being younger than me if I see no wisdom or accomplishment in you, by you.
What I like are people who amaze me, young or old people whose work and accomplishments defy their age.
I met a man who, just in his late twenties, gathered volunteers together, set up a library, and they have now taught hundreds of children how to read. In between, he earns a living and volunteers for an environmental NGO. He dives and bikes on the side.
I met a girl who set aside her high-paying job and high heels to serve communities in Mt. Apo as her way of giving back to the country.
There's this girl who read by street lamplights and slept in cartons but emerged on top of her class. She's going to college on multiple scholarship.
There's this man from a poor family who went to Harvard on a scholarship and he's just in his late twenties.
Yuichiro Miura was 70 years old when he scaled Everest.
And so before telling - nay, insulting - people about their age, measure their accomplishments and the odds they beat against yours. You might be found wanting because you are stuck in your shallow judgment of the people around you.
That people are born ahead of you is an accident. You exerted no effort for that, so you can't claim credit for or be gleeful about it.
What you do with your life and how you form your opinions, like using age as an affront is a testament to who you are - an imbecile in an adult's body.
Am I insulted by my age? No. However, I am insulted if it is used as a weapon against me: I hate finding myself in the company of a nitwit.
It means I failed in judging one's character and intellect. I thought - wrongly - that in my company was a smart person from whom I could learn something.
posted by atticus at
1:41 PM
18 Comments
