Farewell, Kabayan!

By Rolo B. Cena
Arabian Diaries
Dumaguete Star Informer
16 August 2009

The cost of enduring the hardship and grief of being alienated by miles of distance from loved ones is as injuring as piercing a dagger in your chest. In addition, the cost of enduring the pains of losing a loved one is incomparably the most grieving sacrifice of all.

It was supposed to be a fun-filled sports tournament that was culminated a month ago. Our opening event was basketball as majority of the employees is basketball-loving Filipinos. Our sports tournament is designed to end this December with bowling, another popular event in the corporate world. Of course a lot more sports events are lined up in between the period.

In the 7th of this month, we continued our basketball tournament. Shortly before the end of the first half, Rey, our fellow “kabayan” demanded for a substitute. Off-court he narrated that he was feeling congested. He immediately sat down along the façade of the court and drank ice-cold water.

It was a foul! I mean, sitting down after the strenuous combat inside the hard court.

This kabayan requested the assistance of our engineer to bring him to the laboratory where he is assigned. As a gesture of friendship, he was delivered right at the doorstep of his department.

The next time we heard about him is that he was found immobile inside the laboratory; rubber shoes taken off; slippers near his feet; face dipping the floor with hands at his side. According to a fellow lab tech, he was struggling for breath. This was after the end of the second half of the match where he was supposed to be playing.

Emergency was the cry of the moment. His fellow lab tech screamed in the lab; he ran to the warehouse-turned gymnasium yelling at the top of his voice. Emergency!

Rey was brought to the hospital by two members of the Sports and Recreation Committee of which I am the Chairman and a fellow lab personnel. The committee table was left unmanned. They called me; they wanted me to be in the hospital, too. I was negotiating with our Government Relations Officer (GRO), a Saudi National to be with the team in the hospital. He promised to come; he did not. Until one of them called me crying demanding that I should be there. After series of calls, our GRO said he will be there.

I was immobile; I had no driver at that moment. If only I could fly. Suddenly, my driver arrived. I proceeded to the hospital. Along the way, they called me. “Rey is gone!”

Silence momentarily snatched the conversation. Both of us was grasping for breath. It was saddening; I was shaking. It is very hard to get sick in this foreign Kingdom where people could only care for less.

Yes, a fellow “kabayan” is gone. This time, he was not leaving for the beautiful country called the Philippines to relax in a beautiful place called familial home. This time it’s different.

In HR practice, there are three things I hate to announce to a particular employee: first, that he is penalized; second, that he is terminated; and third, that one member of the family or (conversely to the family members) that the employee is terribly sick or dead.

Apparently, it was so hard for me to break the news to his family. I prayed before calling them. I informed them matter-of-factly what happened and they cried; I cried along with them. It was consuming and taxing talking to a bereaved member of the family.

How I wished I could stop Big Ben for a moment and try to see if we can stop the motion of the curse. But it was too late. As the doctor who attended to him said, “it was too late for us to save him.”

My brief moment with the doctor reminded me of the time my father died of the same cause.

Actually, he was not rested a night before. He, along with our colleagues went into fishing the whole night till dawn. Fishing is the most popular recreation of OFWs here in Al-Khobar after basketball, badminton, lawn tennis, table tennis, and bowling. He went home and took a bath and waited for the service bus to pick him up. In the court, most of his colleagues insisted that he should not play; but he wanted to play.

Months ago, he was diagnosed to have fluctuating blood pressure; he was complaining for chest pains most of the time. He took medicines but his colleagues never heard if he completed the medication or passed the medical process. It was supposed to be for us to know but the condition seemed not to matter anymore.

The science of Medicine and physical education always remind any person who is not rested to venture into exercises or even light sports. One must take some rest before playing or do some exercises. His was the opposite: he played and intended to rest after playing.

Body conditioning was not a “cup of tea” to most OFWs here. I know that.

The rest was eternal; never ending. He will never come back from resting.

Which is why, whenever I am not rested, I don’t do my regular gym workout; I don’t play at all. It’s better to be careful than gamble against life. It’s another story.

In the company after the untimely demise of a good friend, everybody’s dictum becomes this: diet, exercise, and rest. We cannot afford to be sick!

And yes, they demanded to continue the Sports Season we have just started. This time, it will be done with more conviction to good health and quality time for one’s self.

Rey was a friend to everybody. His happy demeanor would always remind us of his presence every day; his culinary talent shared with everybody’s dining table would be more than just compelling to recall.

Health is wealth. No words can aptly elaborate this dictum. The practice of it explains why. After all, the most gallant of warriors and gods in the days of yore do sweat for good health.

Remember Olympus?