13 June 2005
Dear Friends,
When I think of
Robec, I always remember a smiling face. Robec is one of my dearest friends, if not the dearest, in medical
school. Marie is lesbian and was Robec’s
classmate and confidante in college.
Bebang is lesbian and came from an exclusive school for girls. Robec is sexually fluid, i.e., bisexual. I’m gay.
We formed the core LGBT group in our batch in medical school. We were quite notorious for being able to mix
business (studies) with pleasure even during toxic moments.
Robec was a wild
child. Her pretty face and friendliness
attracted admirers. She never got
involved in LGBT activism, but she had always been there to give me support. She once marched with me in Remedios Circle
during the Pride March as part of the medical team.
On our third year,
Bebang, then our class president, convinced Robec to join the Miss Medicine contest.
Robec was at her chubbiest then. “You have the face. Now you also have the
body.” Robec relented and smiled through
our teasing. We got ourselves hoarse
during pageant night.
Robec once got
romantically involved with a sorority chancellor. It was, I would say, a match made in heaven. They parted ways as good friends.
I can not forget
how Robec survived being kicked out of her home for getting pregnant out of
wedlock.
She learned about
the guy’s first family too late. We were
in our last year then. Robec moved from place
to place just to survive. She stayed
with Marie for some time during her pregnancy. I heard she gave birth in a government
hospital, but she told me she gave birth in a private lying-in.
It was surprising
how she was able to juggle clinical clerkship and pregnancy while looking for
support wherever she could. Her humility
saw her through. The guy left her and
the baby. From a life of luxury to the
slums, my dear friend survived. And, I
never heard her malign anyone.
We asked her to go
back to her family. We thought it best
for the baby.
When she returned,
her father would dote on the baby but would rarely acknowledge her. I think Robec found more warmth when she was
alone fighting for her and her child’s survival.
I last saw Robec
on my birthday in 2004. After that, we
just communicated via text. We had
become busy with our respective medical practice. She once planned to open a clinic in Bicol
where we would be partners.
I recall texting
her around 3 weeks ago, but there was no reply. It was unusual because she would always reply,
even after a day later.
On June 6
(Monday), Bebang called me about the news of Robec’s drowning. We confirmed our friend’s passing the next
morning. How can a competitive swimmer
drown?
Only Bebang, Joey,
Cathy and I were present among Robec’s medical school classmates during her burial.
Many visited her while at Funeraria Paz
where albums of Robec’s pictures showed milestones in her life and the places
she’d been to: L.A., the Eiffel Tower, Disneyland, her 4 years of schooling
in Nigeria, etc.
Before
transporting Robec’s remains from Paz to her final resting place, Nica, Robec’s
daughter, asked Cathy while I looked on, “Ililibing na po ba siya? (Will
she be buried now?)”
I did not – and
could not – speak during the eulogy because I wanted to speak about Robec’s
indefatigable might during her pregnancy. Her family and relatives who were not aware of
what had happened might get offended. She
was never an LGBT activist like me, but her life was a cause in itself.
Bebang and Joey
had better things to say. They gave
justice to the life of a wild child who swam until she ran out of sea. My face was dry, but the dam broke when the
first mound of earth (11:45 a.m.) touched the white box six feet under. The truth that Robec is now beyond the veil
finally sank in.
Wency Cornejo’s “Hanggang (Until),” the theme song of the
film Dekada ‘70, played in my mind as the earth covered my beloved’s
casket.
Bebang, Joey,
Cathy and I had lunch together after.
Thank you so much.
Yours truly,
Robert Baytan
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The letter was sent to friends via e-mail on noted date.
