WIVES' TUG OF WAR

In lighter moments during weekend breaks, in between workdays, I would visit the group of seniors, who have nothing better to do but loaf around and talk about everything,  in the same usual spot where they  congregate drinking the home made ginger brew and  munching unsweetened loaves, at the break of dawn.   

They have become my hiking buddies, self-proclaimed advisers, and teasers, though most of them preferred to sit than hike. Officially I’m simply an honorary member, of this group of elders, because  my present age still disqualifies me, though, hopefully, my induction isn’t very far.

The topic of conversation, when I arrived, was the tug of war for the remains of the famous Filipino politician,  between the women of his life.

It is only in the Philippines where the mortal remains of a man is regarded as an object of prime  importance, that taking possession of it is a symbol of legitimate authority to the possessor, where two or three wives are quarreling to get hold of the cadaver.   

Since I had a lot of absences in the caucuses of the group, my penalty was to be silent during the discussion of this interesting topic and to pay the fine by sponsoring the next round of snacks and ginger brew.

The wisdom of the old was evident in the way the talk was progressing.

One elder defended the poltician as the consummate Filipino macho male, who true to form, should not be blamed if he collected an array of women or women went after him. At least, this elder says, he left this world in stylish controversy, making himself all the more famous in death than in life.

Another elder begged to differ. He said, trouble often follows the household of a man who has plenty of women. He said that a man should remain faithful to his wife for life, for this is the true measure  of a man. In this way he doesn’t leave problems for the living when he dies, and would not be turning in his grave because his death left a trail of perplexing court cases involving angry women fighting over the  physical possession of his inert body which would be buried to the ground anyway.

Turning to me, the oldest of the group asked of my opinion. I said, I have none, besides, I said the unwritten rule of this organization bars me to speak, so I raised the cup of ginger brew and made a toast to all the girls I’ve loved before.