At Ruben’s wake, the emcee asked if anyone would like to share a story about Ruben. There was a long lull before Edwin Mercurio spoke. At this point, I found myself standing and heading out. It was Ruben’s wake. It was also his birthday. I was sad. Later, Cris Vasquez told me that if there is someone close to Ruben who can share his Toronto experience, it would be me.
Yes, I have plenty of stories about our friendship which started in 1974. Some, I would like to share. Others, I prefer to keep as mine to cherish. I first met Ruben when he moved into the neighbourhood of my relatives in Dundix, Mississauga. There was some drinking going on then and I think we both impressed each other. He admitted to me that he saw a part of him in me – ambitious, hardworking, devoted to a cause. My cause, then, was business. His was the ouster of the Philippine dictator.
Then BALITA came. When it was still on its planning stage, Ruben asked if I could help him on this new venture. Sure, I replied. So long as it’s on the up and up. He observed that I had a passion for photojournalism. He urged me to write in his paper. I was hesitant at first, confessing that I feared a backlash from the Philippine government, not for myself but for some of my relatives who were civil servants in the home country. At the time, I had one particular relative who was working for a member of Marcos’ cabinet. He, then, suggested that I write under the pseudonym Andres Apolinario while submitting pictures for the paper in my own name. I agreed to this.
There were years when I travelled to the Philippines and covered stories in Malacanang Palace, and the Philippine Senate. I was accredited as a member of International Press Club (IPC) so it gained me access to these places. I would then file my stories which Ruben published in Balita. Once, in one of my trips, when Marcos was not in power anymore but insurgency in the country was still strong, I asked the rebel camp leader in the Camarines region for an interview. He gave it to me and even asked me to return the following day. When I informed Ruben that I wanted to do a write-up on the National People’s Army (NPA), he got excited. I did write about my experience with the rebels and Balita became the talk of the community.
We fought side by side on different social issues involving the Filipino community here in Toronto. Among them was the case of the Fairbank club which employed Filipinas whose passports were being withheld. We investigated if the Filipinas were being held against their will and, thereafter, reported Fairbank’s operator to the police and to the Philippine Consulate. We also immersed ourselves, alongside other concerned Filipino-Canadians, on the issue of contractual workers’ landed status. As well, we held fund-raising campaigns for the relatives of the victims of the sinking of the Dona Paz. Ruben raised the awareness of the community on every natural disaster that befell the home country, from earthquakes to landslides, to mega-typhoons, even to the Mt. Pinatubo eruption. He worked tirelessly for the approval of dual citizenship of the Filipino in Canada, submitting several thousands of petitions.
Every now and then, Ruben and I would find ourselves together in political venues outside of Toronto. During Cory’s regime, we both met with President Cory in the Philippines. From Malacanang, to the Oval Office of the White House, to Capitol Hill and the corridor of the (UN) United Nations, we were together. I remember during the visit of Cory to the U.S., I was fortunate to join a batch of journalists who went inside the Oval Office where Pres Cory Aquino and President Ronald Regan were meeting. Ruben was so excited for me that he caught the attention of the secret service. When I came out, I could not find him. I thought he was picked up by the authorities, because he was black-listed by the Marcos administration. Then I saw him with Louie Beltran and some other veteran reporter.
In good times and in bad, we were there for each other. When my mother died and I had to make a trip to the Philippines, I found Ruben to be there too. He attended my mother’s wake and, for this, I was truly grateful to him. He was also one to surprise me. I did not realize he had a good singing voice until I heard him doing Karaoke in one gathering attended by his siblings.
During the People’s Power Revolution in 1986, the Philippine Consulate in Toronto was symbolically taken over by the Filipino-Canadian community. He was concerned that the records in the consulate would be vandalized and together, we made sure they were not. Our presence deterred whatever unpleasant plans some people may have had that day. Later, Canada recognized Cory Aquino as the legitimate President of the Philippines but she could not come to receive her award. Ruben and I , together with my cousin Cora Castellvi and her good friend, Lupita Kasihwara, went to Ottawa to receive the award for her from then Prime Minister John Turner. Later, over drinks, Ruben engaged Lupita in an animated conversation. Lupita, later, told me in jest that if she were single, she would have fallen for Ruben. This made me laugh because I was privy to some of Ruben’s romantic exploits.
During a visit of then Senator Ejercito Estrada, an incident happened in front of the Sheraton in downtown Toronto. Some bums harassed the group of Senator Estrada. When they would not stop, a fracas ensued. Later, Estrada commented that they felt secure with our presence, even mentioning that Ruben would make a good Press Secretary. When Estrada was elected President, there was speculation that Ruben might, indeed, be appointed just this.
In 1994, I was appointed by the Liberal Government to be a part of the Immigration and Refugee Board. I have always worn red when it involved politics. Ruben, however, wore green. One might think that for two people who get along very well, they would at least share the same political ideology. We shared a common goal when it came to Philippine politics. No question on this. But there was no friend happier than Ruben with this appointment of mine. He was ecstatic, even telling me that he felt that a part of him was appointed too.
That Ruben lasted for seventeen years since the accident which left him wheelchair-bound is a testament to his determination to make the best of the hand he was dealt with. He gave us a ringside view of his own version of courage and humility. I visited him several times in the hospital shortly after his accident and told the ICU nurse that I was his brother, for I felt that we were brothers. I was allowed to be by his bedside. In the years following his accident, we would meet in different Filipino-Canadian functions. He was always there with his loving and patient wife, Tess. And, he always greeted me with that big smile, that infectious smile that I will remember always. ****