By Laura Memoza C. Santillano
Of Ateneo de Davao University

AT 73, Eddie Tugap should have long retired from work. But he’s still out there, among the familiar faces at the parks along San Pedro Street.

Manong Eddie is a park photographer, one of many who frequent Rizal, Quezon and Osmena Parks surrounding the City Hall and the Sangguniang Panlungsod building. He has been one for the longest time.

Today’s rate is P40 per photo, thus the more photos, the more the earnings for the day.

“Bisag tiguang na’ko, dili ko moundang ug trabaho para sa akong duha ka apo ug tulo ka anak ilabi na sa isa nako ka anak na gipanganak nga naay polyo. Pinakasakit sa’kong kinabuhi ang makita akong mga anak na naglisod. Unsaon na lang kung mamatay ko, kinsa’y moalaga nila? (Even though I’m already old, I will never stop working for my two grandchildren and three offsprings, one of whom has polio. It’s really painful to see them suffering. What If I’ll die, who will take care of them)?” he says.

For Manong Eddie, photography is his means of living.

That source of livelihood is now threatened by cellphones with cameras and digital cameras. With just about everyone having one or both of these devices, the need for a park photographer is dwindling.

Manong Eddie is still not about ready to give up his belief that his old camera will continue to bring food on their table.

His may already be the digital kind, but the stock features of his Nikon Coolpix brings forth the essence of photography, that which preserves the visuals out there.

This same art, however, is suffering the inroads of technology. That which is there is now most likely enhanced, made to look more beautiful maybe than it ever was.

“Photography through time evolves to the extent that high technologies slowly extinct the essence of photography which is the art of expressing our very own style—not edited or post-processed,” says Jeremy Eliab, a photography class teacher of Ateneo de Davao University.

But while photography now is becoming almost indistinguishable from digital art, it’s the likes of Manong Eddie’s trusty camera that preserves what is true.

“Every shoot is significant. Although there are pros and cons of every innovation, but with new photography, people will just shoot, edit and play. It’s more of post-processed kinds of photos,” he adds.
Back at the park, Manong Eddie tries to entice promenaders to have their photos taken amid competition by other park photographers.

Only his weary eyes show that he should have long taken it easy. But, as he says, he can’t. There are his offspring and grandchildren to provide for.

Like his stock camera and fellow senior citizens, Manong Eddie suffers the fate of unedited photographs.

While senior citizens deserve respect and attention, having worked hard in their time and thus deserve to be attended to in their twilight years, they are most often disregarded if not completely forgotten.

Old photography and old people may even be associated with each other. Old people are like the forgotten pictures of our generation. Because of the existing technologies, we forget the essential values that these elders have and are contributing.

They are the living links to the near-past, to the beliefs, events and experiences that have shaped us into what we are now, that we tend to forget.

Like the old photographers on San Pedro Street, they may be too old to capture the perfect angle we’d like to have, but in them are the stories we haven’t even taken time to listen to.