One week free trial

During breaks my classmates would always be on the hunt for the nearest food stalls and whenever they invite me to go I’d always jokingly ask my friends, “Libre mo ba ‘ko?” and they would all just laugh it off because it became their way of saying no. That’s why I was anxious when my senior editor asked me to write something about a “generosity challenge”. No, it didn’t mean I would have to share with others out of my own generosity. On the contrary, it meant I wouldn’t be allowed to spend my own money for an entire week, not even a single peso (except for fare) without telling anyone about it. I would simply have to rely on the generosity of others.

The generosity challenge was also given to me in order to see things as someone who barely has any money to spend daily would. It was a challenge for me to experience the struggle, the desperation in fighting temptations.

How can I keep up for a week relying only on others’ generosity? What would I realize at the end?

It was even harder when I think about how I was supposed to keep all my money at home, in the safety of a glass jar. The thought of how to survive an entire week by asking people for money, food —especially food—or literally anything had me dragging my feet across the asphalt.

|November 11th

It was hard to go to school with only coins lumped in my pockets and with no bills folded.

The card I had in hand today was confidence. See, jokes aside, I was sure my classmates never saw me as that classmate who always —and I mean, always—asks for something, so staining my spotless nameplate didn’t hurt.

So I started by asking my classmate who sat in front of me for a P10 coin out of the blue, she gave it without questioning what for. I formulated a plan which was to ask P10 from different people and pile them all up until I could afford a 65-peso lunch. Before lunch, my hands were filled with some snacks, two orange bills, and coins. But it wasn’t as smooth as you would have imagined. Some asked questions to which I had to lie to, saying that I didn’t have money with me today. It made me wince mentally. I didn’t know if they actually

believed it or they were just too nice to say no to me because it was me —I’m usually quiet and apparently they thought that I was always serious.

My friends though, the actual circle I hang out with, barely put money on my yearning palms. That was because they saw this situation as a joke, “there’s no way you don’t have money right now,” one of them said.

Despite the suspicion, Garret, offered a honey-glazed chicken for lunch. “Hahayaan ko ba namang magutom ka?” she said. Those words filled my heart more than I’ve filled my hands and stomach today with money and snacks.

But the backlash of today’s success was this also made me feel guilty about lying to her but I had to get over it because it has only been day one. I just won’t ask anything from her for the following days—hopefully.

|November 12th

This type of challenge required mentoring which was why before officially starting the second day, my senior, Ate Niets, gave me an alibi that could stand for the rest of the week —that my parents cut my allowance because of our lunch in the publication office from the previous week was free because of our Intramurals coverage.

Although we don’t have classes on Tuesdays, there are still other requirements we needed to accomplish in school, one of which was to practice for the gymnastics class. The leaders set a rule that whoever came late in the practices would be fined 20 pesos. Unfortunately I was a second too late. I was so anxious but still managed to practice, despite wondering where the hell I would get P20 from and still have lunch.

However, the purple bruises and muscle strains from the rehearsals, even the P20 crisis, were completely erased in my memory as Lean offered a burger when I desperately asked him, “Libre mo ako”. That lifted my mood. Giving a 55 peso lunch to a classmate you barely talk to, I don’t think I could ever do that.

After a while my classmate who asked me to pay 20 pesos because of my tardiness told me that she’d pay for it because she knew I didn’t have money. She also didn’t even pause to ask why.

Some people are truly just that generous I realized or maybe they just live without the worries of losing that amount of money. Hopefully, none of them would ever think of me as that person, the one who always asks for something, takes but rarely gives. And to think that I prepared myself to face troubles today because yesterday was already quite a gift; today, it kept on giving. Maybe tomorrow’s the real deal or maybe I’m overthinking it.

| November 13th

Today was film viewing day and also the day I should really hustle hard for this challenge because there was no way I’ll climb to the top of an elevator-less five-floored building to watch a one-hour documentary film and participate in another hour of discussions without lunch.

Why was it harder to ask friends for money rather than classmates whom I have little casual interactions with? Probably because they knew me better and for a moment I hated that they knew better. But I was convinced I was a good liar. Well, either that or they just got tired of me repeating, “I have no money,” like their minute-spaced alarms every morning. So they gave in, opened their wallets before they had to yell for me to stop. They found it —me—annoying but when the alarms stopped, there was a bit of calm amid frustration, just like in the mornings. They were concerned and curious. Their words were overlapping with questions like “Pa’no ka nakakasurvive sa maghapon na gan’yan, e nabiyahe ka?” and “Bakit daw ‘di ka binibigyan? E, ‘di ka naman magastos”. One even said, “Sabihin mo wala ka nang pera. Baka kasi iniisip may ipon ka kasi last week, libre pagkain sa Lavoxa,” which is an excuse to tell my parents (who were actually giving me allowance, but no one had to know that). Friendships are precious.

By noon, I had a meeting in the publications office. I discussed the progress of the challenge and how everything was working out for me somehow—and again!—a bag of pancit-filled boxes happened to grace our table right after the meeting. Of course, I had one for dinner.

On my way home, I was with Angelic who also came from the meeting and we took the same route. Before I could even pay, she offered to do so, saying that I had paid for her fare last time we got home together, and now was her time to return the favor. See, friendships are precious and today, my appreciation for them was all I could think of before bed. They played today’s part of aiding my hungered belly and my hollowed wallet. Receiving from friends started to feel different. I was less anxious because there was… care. My friends so far are still trying to get to the bottom of things, still making sure I didn’t starve as I continued to rely on generosity.

|November 14th

Reaching the limit scared me—and not the limit on the goods, but the limit on patience. How long would it really take for my classmates or friends to think that I was being too much? It had been almost a week of asking spare change and joining short snack munches on recesses I never contributed to. When would it become too much?

Some had already told me jokingly, “Nabubuhay ka na sa hingi,” and “Nambuburaot ka na naman.” It made me wonder if any of my classmates talked about me during lunch, about how I had went around every day to ask different people for money or snacks, or how it was always the same classmate. Maybe they would talk about how I was only befriending people for my needs. Thinking about this scared me the most.

So I went off course. I messaged one of my close friends from a different class, Rose Ann, about my situation (my made-up situation) on how my parents weren’t giving me any allowance. The few blue bubbles I sent swiped upwards with her message telling me to meet her at lunch, her treat. For three years of friendship, this had only been the time she paid for my meal because she understood that the situation was tough. She empathized with it. Like my friends yesterday, she asked me the how’s and the why’s and I could only reply with shrugs and simple, “That’s just it,” as if to hide burdens. The guilt was heavier this time. And when she left, I didn’t know where else to go.

Outside the matters of food, though, one of my close friends, Chaiya, gave me an iPhone case. It wasn’t random; we talked about this yesterday, but I didn’t think she’d actually give me one. Out of all the generous gestures I had thought of, this one was not in the list of my expectations. It cornered itself at the edge of my four-walled mind that only thought of food. Right, this challenge wasn’t only about food; it could be anything. Anything is a gift—a gift even without the fancy loops of ribbon.

| November 15th

The previous days were too good for this one to be pleasant.

Today, I made up my mind. I wouldn’t expect anything. And I don’t have to feel bad despite knowing that I’d starve the entire day. It was my fear to be judged that pushed this, pushed me to dive into this whirlpool of overflowing thoughts from overthinking. I hated thinking that my classmates disliked me. So I resolved not to ask for anything and that was fine with me. (And no, I will not ask strangers for anything too.)

My friends and I didn’t have lunch on purpose because we had to practice for a PathFi performance which was at 1pm. After that, we had gymnastics practice. My classmates only had their first meals at sunset and my friends asked me if I wanted anything, but I didn’t cave. I had asked for way too much the entire week. I feared being judged and was being held back by shame or guilt for some reasons. Although, I did take a fork twirl of pancit canton from a really

close friend but that was different because I had known her for almost half my life.

Jeeps didn’t drop me off my place exactly; I had to walk for about fifteen minutes to reach home, where by the time I opened the gate, eight dogs had their front legs stretched up to lick my face. Tonight, this was the only time I rushed past them in a rush to get inside, release myself from my five kilogram backpack, and dine my heart out. The dining table had home cooked fried chicken and rice fresh from the stove. I felt that things were on my side—and again!—when my father came home with Chao Fan and fried siomai from Chowking.

By the time I was preparing for bed, I saw my glass jar and it had quite a number of neatly folded P100 bills inside, an amount I’ve never had since the beginning of the semester.

Throughout the challenge, I was more worried about the guilt and the idea of being judged rather than having to take care of my stomach, which was why I didn’t ask for a lot. I only worried about how I would solve emergencies like sudden class payments and the likes. It made me think of repaying those who opened their wallets for me regardless of our relationship (but it would destroy the idea of the challenge).

These people are those who made me realize the treasure in making relationships. Even more so than the bills and coins they laid in my awaiting palms and the paper bowls they ordered for me, it’s another perspective to see generosity simply as an act of giving. Generosity is to give but it is not always there. Most of the time, the concept of generosity is pushed aside by the material worth of what is being given. This whole thing made me realize how giving, no matter how little, should mean a lot. It should not be taken for granted. The week after the challenge, I didn’t ask my parents for allowance.

“Libre mo ‘ko” has become a joke, I realized. It’ll only work once or twice on the same person. Sometimes it doesn’t even work. It doesn’t even work on me. People

need reasons, expecting that the people they are asking reasons from, have them. And reasons should be genuine to make things easier, without guilt. It doesn’t hurt to ask for help. And people are more than willing to when it is really needed.

To have nothing pushed also pushed me to take more into account the things that matter, like having a meal by the tick of the clock at twelve noon. Typically I would always go for affordable luxuries, like a sweet snack after lunch, another snacking at sunset before doing homework, or sometimes a McDonald’s sundae whenever my friends and I decided to go to Robinson’s after our last class. But the daily 16-peso coins for commute stuffed in my wallet gave only one choice: to ask people around me for what they could give. With that, unnecessary things were suddenly out of the question. Having less made me see how valuable things really are.

With how things turned out, I don’t think I can say “Libre mo ‘ko” to any of my classmates for quite some time. And I think that’s a good thing.

Photos by Allegra Japson Macatangay