Thursday, December 20, 2007 So: The blind walkathon By Michelle P. So Caught in the Net
I WANTED to thump my head for almost knocking into a blind man on Session Road. I was looking at the huge Christmas tree at the end of Baguio City’s densest street and wasn’t minding my direction.
Oops, the blind man’s stick nudged my foot. He said something in Ilokano that I could translate to something like, “Are you blind?! Can’t you see where you’re going?!” Hah! If he should know, he smelled of the noonday heat.
I had expected the city to be colder than usual at this time of the year and brought warm clothes. Alas, the days are hot here and I’ve been sweating in my knit shirts. At night, I leave the window of my hotel room open, confident that no blind man will ever peep in.
In the four days that I’ve been here, the downtown streets of Baguio have been teeming with blind people. They walk the streets in groups of three or four, sometimes in pair, or just solo. I found out later that only last Saturday, the City Government of Baguio held a walkathon for the blind. I think some of them are still racing toward the finish line but just can’t find it.
The walkathon was one of the activities of the Silahis ng Pasko, an annual Christmas program held for the disadvantaged. For 33 years now, Baguio City’s office of the social welfare and development has held every December “a special day for special people.” There are races for senior citizens, blind, wheelchair-bound and other physically challenged groups. (I know of some sixtysomethings who resent being catalogued with these groups, more so being labeled as senior citizens.)
Rizaldy Comanda, who has covered this event many times and contributes his photos to Sun.Star Baguio, says the spirit of fun and competitiveness, more than the cash prizes, rouse these groups to join. The prizes are solicited from private groups. Everyone gets a gift but the winners get cash prizes.
So last Saturday, a portion of the city’s downtown area was closed off to traffic to allow the races to be held. No curses were heard among the Cordillera folks when traffic jammed in alternate routes on that day. In this part of the country, special people are special people.
In the walkathon for the blind, there was a “seeing” guide who directed the turns and the stops of the four-kilometer route. The organizers didn’t want any participant going astray and finding himself in Mines View, falling into a manhole or bumping into a pine tree. Like certified athletes, the participants wore numbers, sporty attire and dark shades. And they had their walking sticks.
By the sound of the stomps of their sticks, they knew if they were leading, staying or falling behind the pack. Rapid toc-toc-tocs meant they were near the pack; fading toc-toc-tocs meant they had fallen behind or gotten ahead; only his own toc-toc-toc meant that he had strayed from the route; a single toc meant a knock on the head for not following instructions; a soundless toc meant he had fallen into a manhole.
They knew they reached the finish line when they were told, “Stop, the toc ends here.”
Just an aside: My friends and I joined a three-kilometer fun run/walk sponsored by the Mabolo seminary three Sundays back. Three never got beyond 400 meters and decided to admire the trees at the Cebu Business Park instead. They waited for us a few meters from the finish line and cheered. They weren’t blind.
