Marathons
WADAFAK! I said that when the exaggerated sound of a drum roll and fanfare, amplified to the max, came from the other side of the patubig (irrigation canal) where I live, jolted me out of bed at 6ish this morning. My first reaction was to rush downstairs to check what the noise was all about. THE FUN MARATHON, my cook said upon seeing me. Right, the annual marathon in town! It may be fun for the organizers and participants, but not for senior citizens like me or those convalescing from a health issue, like Walter, who had just come out of the hospital and now has the flu, with a severe cough and cold, depriving him of much-needed sleep. Do marathons need to make a lot of noise to be fun? We need more consideration for those of us who are vulnerable and in need of rest. I am okay with events accompanied by loud music that can drive me nuts, but only after the early birds catch the worm, PLEASE!
That was a refrain from another incident when I returned home from a long-haul flight and was still jet-lagged. My sleep pattern is disturbed; I wake up at 3 A.M and struggle to fall back asleep. Last night, I took a melatonin tablet to help me sleep through the night. It didn’t help much; I was up again at early dawn. I tried to fall asleep, and just when I thought I was getting there, a booming drum-and-techno sound from the other side of the patubig, across my house, jolted me. I bolted out of bed and ran downstairs, seeing my cook entering the house from the garden. The noise is not just a nuisance, it’s a personal assault on my sleep and well-being.
“Mga joggers po, nagpa practice bago tumakbo,” she told me. (Joggers, warming up). I went out and saw a group of runners stretching their legs to the ear-splitting sound of what they called music coming from portable stereos on tricycles.
I screamed profanities, stunning the joggers. They may not have understood what I was saying, but they got the message and lowered the music slightly.
When will they ever learn? It’s not just the marathons and the early morning joggers, but also the late-night karaoke sessions that disrupt the peace and quiet of our community.
The roosters in my neighborhood had been kinder to me.
Should I file a complaint with the authorities of our Barangay Hall? Am I kidding myself? They know my reputation by now; a regular pain in the ass for them. I did just the same.
Last night, I sent a message to the Barangay Captain and was eagerly awaiting a response. Today, a Barangay staff member knocked on my door for a donation to someone who died, and I couldn’t resist mentioning what happened last night. He casually suggested that I dialed the wrong number. I tried to explain that I pressed the call icon on their directory. He was off duty, he said, and the Barangay patrol covering the area last night may not have noticed the noise. It’s as if the entire neighborhood, including the Barangay captain and patrol team, has suddenly lost its hearing, unless they’ve all decided to join a choir.