Gone Missing

The other day my oldest friend’s dad decided to break his age-old daily routine and sent the whole town baffled.

Went to the bank to withdraw. Made a phone call which was ‘interrupted,’ according to the person he called, and was never heard from again for the rest of the day.

They tried calling him but his phone seemed to be unattended. They looked for him in his usual whereabouts but he was nowhere to be seen. They even went to all the hospitals in town just in case he had an accident or something.

It’s like he just disappeared.

There’s a small town modus operandi of crime going around via rumors and anecdotal reports, working its way to our not-so-big book of urban legends, and it involves people withdrawing from automatic tellers suddenly finding themselves befriended by complete strangers and later waking up in a different city with their atm accounts emptied and having no recollection of what’s just happened to them.

Hypnotized, they say. But in the dialect it has a funny name: “budol-

budol” which kind of makes you, instinctively, not take it seriously. It’s a Filipino thing, I suppose. Doorbell names given to cute kids for them to discard when they’ve grown up and understood the seriousness of life. DIng-dong. Bong-bong. Bing-bing. Lyn-lyn. Bim-bim.

So, doorbell names even to our silly crimes until they become really seriously dangerous and they get a different, catchier name like Kuratong Baleleng or Akyat-Bahay Gang or Laglag Biente Gang or Maria Labo^…

There are actually signs in the atm vestubules:

BEWARE OF BUDOL-BUDOL!

And I remember I Iaughed so hard the first time I saw it. It reminded me of some other funny signs I’ve seen in my life.

MEN AT WORKS…

KEEP YOUR FEETS OFF ON TOP OF THE CHAIR…

ICE FOR SELL…

The likes…

I’m a psych major and they’d been teaching us that nobody can be hypnotized against their will because the power of hypnotism comes from the power of suggestion and the person’s “openness” or willingness to be influenced. But that day, I was nowhere near doubting that it COULD HAVE happened.

When it’s the people we love who could possibly be in peril, anything that’s remotely possible becomes a living threat.

When my friend called and couldn’t speak (all I could hear were hiccups or some such sounds), I knew something was wrong. When she decided to text me the details instead, me and my parents who are close friends with her parents (it’s a small town thing…) rushed to the police station to see what help we could offer. And a worried crowd slowly gathered there.

Relatives.

Friends.

Cops who find themselves suddenly having something to do.

Tricycles (our main transportation system) who are always there wherever a crowd is.

And of course, his worried wife and daughter.

At about 6pm, he arrived at the station unharmed. Smiling, actually. A worried smile, it seemed. Or a relieved one. And the first thing he says to his welcoming committee is : “Abaw damu gid gapalangga sakon bah” (”How so many people care about me!…”)

And everybody started laughing. Again it’s a Filipino thing. When you’re struck with a giant wave of anger and worry and indescribable relief and happiness and you don’t know which one you’re actually feeling or if there’s a name you can call all of those put together, you shrug it off and joke about it.

Nothing bad has happened after all.

And the theory of the budol-budol becomes silly again. How did we ever think about that one when there are a gajlllion things more probable that could have happened, like, say, a midlife crisis? An existential moment that strikes anyone and everyone sometimes, causing us to break the routine if only to assure ourselves that WE ARE ALIVE! That we have minds of our own. That we are not controlled by the robotics of everyday living. So instead of the usual highway, we turn left and take the dirt road that’s quite a more difficult and longer route but simply makes all the difference.

I don’t know the real story. When he was asked where he’s been, he simply

said, “nagpahangin-hangin.” (went for some fresh air).

For ten hours.

Without calling.

But it happens, doesn’t it?

Sometimes we just get an urge to disappear.

To lose ourselves and get found….

June 13, 2009