Lost in Translation
I was having breakfast with two friends and neighbors—a Fil-Austrian couple, Marylin and Norbert—at their place when I received this disturbing news from Pining—a good friend in Vienna.
„Si Puto namatay daw kagabi. Dios ko po! “(Puto apparently died last night. My God!), she wrote.
“NO!” I blurted out, my voice filled with shock and disbelief. I was petrified at the news of Puto’s supposed death.
I startled Marylin with the news that she could also utter, “NO!” She had yet to digest what I told her about Pol, an acquaintance in the Filipino community in Vienna and a former colleague in the United Nations in Austria. After accepting a golden handshake from his employer, he returned to the Philippines. Unfortunately, he died unexpectedly a couple of days ago. Marylin would only know this morning from me.
Hearing about Puto’s death, I called a common friend of mine and Puto’s—Dingdong—to ask if he knew. Like Marilyn, Dingdong was disturbed by the news. He did not know but would call Miss Aruba—yes, another friend—for confirmation. He said he would get back to me as soon as he could.
Miss Aruba is this gay Pinoy in Vienna whose nickname was inspired by the former Aruba representative to the Miss Universe Beauty pageant held in Manila in 1974, who oozed sex appeal. The Pinoy gay community of that era loved Miss Aruba and rooted for her during the pageant.
I’d better ask Abdul. Abdul is part of our group of friends.
“Anubaaah? (What the heck?).” Abdul’s reply. “Puto and I were just on the phone talking.” Of course, he could say, “Ano ba?” plain and simple. Still, he chose to exaggerate to emphasize that he was genuinely annoyed. Thus, “Anubaaah?” What he said prompted me to get back to the person who broke the news—Pining. .
“I mean Puto, my classmate, and your sister’s former suitor, NOT the Puto we know in Vienna,” her prompt reply.
Stunning!
“WADAFAK?” How could I know it was your classmate? I only know Puto, our good friend in Vienna. He had just turned 60 recently, and he’s dead?”
I had to call Dingdong urgently to explain about the confusion, but my phone rang before I could. It was the Doorbell — err, Dingdong — that added to the mounting anxiety.
“Nagulat si Miss Aruba, di nya alam!” (Miss Aruba was startled; she did not know).
It was not the first time this comedy of errors happened, with my friends playing leading roles. There was a time when Jean of the Church, another Pinoy friend, called me, very much concerned about a rumor circulating in her Prayer Group—that the brother of one of their sisters in their Prayer Group had died. This brother received regular medical treatments twice a month in a hospital. Jean of the Church knew a person who fitted the description—Dingdong. He happens to be a good friend of hers, too, like mine. She said she called him, but he did not answer.
“Talk to her sister then,” I said. “I don’t want to upset her,” she said. So, I called Dingdong, but I could not reach him either. It worried me that that rumor might be true until Dingdong called back.
“Ano bagong balita? “(What’s the latest news?). For a person who was dead, he sounded jolly!
“Bad news, that’s the latest. You’re supposed to be dead,” I said. “ANO!? “(WHAT?) He was upset, his voice a tad higher. I told him about the rumor coming from a prayer meeting.
“These people were supposed to be praying, yet they would rather talk about others.” He was furious when he called Jean of The Church and told her so, without masking his contempt for her Prayer Group.
“Amen!” was probably the best answer Jean of The Church could utter—happy to hear that our friend was alive and kicking, bringing a wave of relief.
Meanwhile, the news of the mistaken identity reached Puto. So, naturally, it did not sit well with him. I heard he wasn’t amused. Unfortunately, it happens all the time—news gets lost in translation.
(Except for Pining, Marylin, Norbert, Puto, and Abdul, the names of the other characters involved are fictitious. Oh, you know!)