THE MANONGS - II

THE MANONGS - II
Victorino P Mapa

The Manong was by no means the infallible saint. There were stories of some who would blow their month’s wages at a single throw of the dice and return the next month to do the same; racous tales of brawls and mayhem in the ghettoes where they lived and at cat-houses, run ins with the police who swooped down on illegal cockfights.There were moments too when pushed around too much and insults no longer be tolerated. In bars, pool halls and back alleys the Manong would cut his tormentor down to size, sometimes literally. The bully learned to fear the deadly “balisong” fan knife.
But on the whole he was a God-fearing and law-abiding man. He devotedly sent his money across the seas to support the family he left behind. No man had stronger family ties. There were stirrings in the community about the little brown man. .. He may look funny in his outsized suit but he knew how to pay his bills; he may speak fractured English but this did not deter him from forming clubs or joining discussion groups to improve himself. No man was more active in his community’s affairs or more helpful to his neighbors. America began to give him grudging respect. The Manong persevered and no man was prouder when he stood before the judge to take his oath of allegiance as a brand-new citizen.
I did’nt know a soul a soul when I first set foot in San Francisco. My older sister preceded me but she lived in New York. I hung on to the Manongs who put me at the Washington Hotel. That was at the corner of Kearny and Washington. It was a two-story building and the hotel was a walk up. Tino’s Barber shop was on the ground floor/ A side door opened to the pool hall. Tino’s was the USO, bookie joint, pawn shop and information center rolled into one. Tino, of course, was the official Godfather of the block. If you could not find a long-lost relative Tino could tell you. If you were broke and needed a no-collateral short loan Tino was the soft touch. And many was the time when Tino would cut hair and conveniently forget to be paid because the customer was a “broo”, that is, a member of his fraternal order. The Manongs who frequented Tino’s were not “Pambrowns” (a contraction of the term, Bum Brown, what those who were not working were called during the depression.)They were either retirees on social security, or kabayans on their days off. They were dapper in their Stetsons, their shoes were always Florsheims and everyone worse suits, often loosely since most haberdasheries didn’t carry small sizes.
That area was the unofficial “Filipino Town” of San Francisco. It was considered to be the hairiest part of town, that is, if you were not a :bro.” But it was actually the safest. Tino’s tenants were the peacemakers. They had a way with the fan knife. . Drunks, muggers and pickpockets learned to stay away. Cops on the beat never failed to touch bases with Tino.

Like all others who came to seek a new beginning in America the Manongs took the full brunt of intolerance and prejudice before the Filipino could gain acceptance. Through his perseverance the barriers to our race in the field of arts, science and technology were erased so that those who followed could be lawyers, engineers, doctors, professionals. They were still in great numbers when I arrived in San Francisco in the late 50s and I had the privilege of meeting them. Most were way past middle age. A few lived a life of bachelorhood, staying at rundown hotels and living off their pensions and social security.. Those with families had homes in the Portrero, Richmond and Mission districts that they had paid for many years back. They still wore outsized suits and spoke the same slang English that they learned phoenitcally from their Caucasian bosses. While their sons and daughters had college degrees and were Americans in mind and speech The newcomers could not relate to the Manongs. This new breed of College degree professionals who spoke English far more fluently found them……..different and derisively gave them the new term , “OT”.The Manongs ‘ generation is history and the titled , and “educated” Filipinos now take center stage The Manong may be the decrepit old man, the “OT” in fading memory , that he was only stoop-farmer, bus-boy, janitor, laborer, menial worker. .We have forgotten that Manongs paved the way for us. and their examples were the best messages we delivered to America about the Filipinos’ true worth.