I was showing a young colleague at work a photo of me during freshman year back in the late ‘80s when he remarked, innocently, that he was surprised colored pictures were around when I was in college.
The way he said it was what got me. There was no hint of malice. He really did not know, God bless him, which is why I couldn’t react violently. A tiny voice in my head told me to wring his neck right there and then. It took every ounce of my concentration to pull myself together.
Honestly, it was hard to describe how I felt that very instant. So what did I do?
I laughed.
Out loud.
Hysterically.
I was still caught off guard. Part of me felt bad for him for not knowing any better, but another part of me was petrified that he would see me as someone so old.
I felt I had to tell everyone around us what just transpired. And so I did. I called attention to his innocence, which must have embarrassed him profusely. Which was my goal.
Of course, I only told the people who were the same age as me. The young ones wouldn’t understand why I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown that very moment.
When I asked him how old he was, it turned out he was born when I was in my late 20s. Hardly his fault, I admit. He didn’t know any better. I’m probably even older than his parents, which did nothing to my already bruised ego.
A part of me felt bad for putting him on the spot. Just a tiny part. A teeny-weenie bit.
I figured that with the current technology available and with information at his fingertips, ignorance would be a thing of the past.
Don’t get me wrong. There are so many things that he knows and takes for granted that put me to shame and place me at his mercy. And I am not ashamed to ask for his help when these things happen and they have happened quite a lot considering I’m a Luddite.
But I don’t see why there has to be such a wide disconnect between generations, although I know the gap has existed since time immemorial and will continue to exist when I am gone from this world.
In the meantime, I am thankful for events like the “Gabii sa Kabilin,” which was held last Friday, May 12, 2023, that bridge that divide, albeit for one night only.
I was amazed that people from all walks of life came out in droves to support the event, which was started by the Ramon Aboitiz Foundation Inc. in 2007.
With my aunt and a very young cousin in tow, we visited Casa Gorordo and the Kabilin Center next door. We then walked a few blocks to the Archdiocesan Museum of Cebu beside the Metropolitan Cathedral before heading out to the Sugbo Chinese Heritage Museum inside the refurbished Gotiaoco Building.
My cousin was surprised when she saw a photo and a small replica of a train that used to operate in the island before World War 2.
That was way before my time so I didn’t react, but I did care that the guides in one of the museums spoke to us in impeccable English throughout.
I told another colleague at work that it would have been nice to have my past explained to me in my own language. Then she told me it was something an old person would point out.
Ouch!