Tuesday, February 28, 2017

six years overdue

The streets are familiar. Even the quaint light from the sporadic convenient stores are familiar. "The convenient store! I know that one convenient store there." I was supposed to visit the place a year after 2011, but it took me only in 2017, and a chance encounter, to be there. There was no pain anymore. Chills, maybe. But I needed this. It was six years overdue.

Mike sent me an SMS and asked if he could get his book back. Of course, he can. I just loaned it from him and it's been a while since I kept on saying "yes" but wouldn't go. If it weren't for the seemingly irritated undertone in his messages, I would still be thick-skinned as to delay the return of the book.

Even during the first time I visited Mike's home, I was already acutely aware that somewhere around his neighborhood was the complex of dormitories. I tried to look for it last December when I went home on foot from Mike's with I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings clutched in my pit. But that time, I was not looking harder. I thought, if I'd see the house, I'd see it. If I don't, then I don't.

February. Mike texted. I was ambling down to his place on the back streets of Sampaloc, away from EspaƱa Blvd. The familiar ruckus of people, the train tracks of PNR, and suddenly UST is coming to view. From the house, I took on Florentino St. to reach M. dela Fuente. The night wind allowed me to think through the 17 blocks of street: "I guess I'll try harder this time around."

Almost half an hour passed when I returned the book, thanked Mike, and saluted off. "I'll try harder this time around." I took a turn on Piy Margal, as if some metaphysical hand pushed me offtrack. Finally, the streets became familiar. The quaint lights from the sporadic convenient stores became recognizable like a dusty case folder taken from my mental cabinet. I could not be wrong about the convenient store. There is no mistaking about it.

I walked to a slow, hoping to make sense of the small block from my six-year-old memory. It felt like deliberately touching a scar at the back of my head wanting to recall how I figured in the accident and got the wound. It was both dangerous and liberating: to be at the place where I spent that one night that will redound to an error of a lifetime.

I saw the convenient store. I knew that back in February 2011, a boy named Jerome hissed from the other side of the street to signal me to enter into a complex of dormitory units. I should remember too well that store like a lifeline on the palm of my hand, some thing that's ought to be there. It was the store where I bought a Mountain Dew as I texted him where exactly his place is. From the right bank of the road I saw the sari-sari store. I saw my 22-year-old self crossed the street and entered into a gate. "Where the fuck is the gate?" I was already directly across the store when I reminded myself "I'll try harder this time around. This memory is overdue. I'll try harder and find it." I turned around and paced, redraw my steps. It's should be somewhere around here, I thought. There's a tree: Too insignificant. There's a salon: I don't recall. And then suddenly, like a sleeping prisoner in the dark jail, the green gate appeared. I stopped.

I stood there. For good 15 seconds I allowed my inner eye to resurrect what I should have not done in 2011. I saw myself entered the gate. It could only take a while when I and Jerome were already undressed, I thought. If only there was a way to stop me, I would. But memories are ghosts with bloodshot eyes. They stare at you without remorse, and only then you'd know if you have grown accustomed to bringing the Crucifix out into the streets.

I stood for a good time, allowed myself to immerse, to marinate into the thought of that night. From the gate, I saw the imposing old house. It looks haunted from the outside. I thought that should have been enough to scare me off already. But I was stupid then. From what happened, the orbit of my memory moved to Jerome. Is he still there? Or had moved to another dorm? Or if he's still alive and here on Earth in the first place. I remembered how he led me through the snaking stairways to his room. How he asked me to shush and to carry my feet so as not to rouse the others to wake. I remembered how we sat awkward, watching but not watching the TV. I remembered them all. Those were enough for a six-year overdue memory. I walked away.

I don't know how to make out of it now that six years passed and one too many bottles of ARVs went to the trash bin. If you'd ask if there was a sense of regret in me, there's nothing--not even a dint of it. I always believed in the concept of happy accidents. For an existentialist, how I love to blame my faulty wiring to fate. I and Jerome still got to talk after my diagnosis in May 2011. It was that time when he told me he's already suspected that he had it but was just afraid. If only killing was legal, I would have bloodied my hand of his crimson at that time. But wherever he is, I still want to thank him, I guess. If it weren't for my stupidity and what he caused me, I would have not been where I am. Cheesy I know, cliche even, but that's how we romanticize pain to legitimize where we are right now.

Ever since the family moved from Sta Mesa to Sampaloc, I already thought of revisiting that place again. You know, sometimes it's good to return to those old barns in your life just to find out if they scare you still. I guess that old barn of a dormitory, where angels cried during that fateful night, doesn't hurt now as much as I thought it will. Sure, there was that chill that crossed my spine. Sure, there was that utter disbelief that I'd get to see the place years after (I was secretly hoping that it was already razed to the ground and a new building stood erect there). Sure, there was the sudden confluence of memories flashing before my eyes. But I guess those were just but natural. After all, you do not look at a ghost and welcome him with unfolded hands.

I was flooded with what-if's and the could've-been's on my way back home. I was looking at the street and not looking at it at the same time. I just snapped out of the daze when this young man--probably around my age--walking towards my direction was giving me a sticky stare. And, as we came shoulder-to-shoulder, a bated "Hello." He passed by and I surreptitiously turned around. I saw him cross the street towards the dormitory.

I turned away, and didn't look back.

Thursday, February 2, 2017

HIV screening and the hiring process

Bestfriend called up a while ago to just ask about things and update me on his job search. He's in the restaurant management industry and aiming for higher position.

Throughout the conversation, he told me that this one classy cafe asked him to do an HIV test during the hiring process. I stopped him short and asked to repeat what he said. Apparently, even if he knows my condition, he doesn't know that what he underwent was illegal. So I told him to go in with how he went through the process. In sum, it went like this:

He was asked to do a medical test with HIV test in it. It was done outside (I'm not sure if it was the diagnostics laboratory affiliate of the cafe with its hiring process). The HIV counselor did the routine interrogation as regards his last sexual contact. My bestfriend answered. He was told that if the medical staff won't give him a text message the following day, it meant that he was non-reactive; that if he received a text, then that was it. Following day, no text received. Just to make sure, he called the laboratory and indeed the counselor, through phone, told him that it was non-reactive.

I could not but stress that what he went through was--under clear provisions of the law--illegal; that's clear under Sec. 35 of RA 8504. Bestfriend could not believe that it was illegal. I reassured him that it was unfair and illegal and I could not just imagine the emotional rollercoaster any applicant had to go through with that kind of policy. True enough, he was nerve-wracked during the testing because if the result comes out as reactive, he wouldn't know what to do and how to go on with the the employment process.

I told him different scenarios--to attack and to defend--the cafe's policy on HIV screening during the hiring process.

1. It's no brainer under the law that what is prohibited and set down in clear words should not be done directly or indirectly. RA 8504 has a prohibitive provision, which means "Bawal gawin" (the antonym is "positive provision").  And I quote, Sec. 35: "Discrimination in any form from pre-employment to post-employment, including hiring, promotion or assignment, based on the actual, perceived or suspected HIV status of an individual IS PROHIBITED." (Emphasis supplied)

2. It does not matter if the result of the prospective employee is non-reactive. Even if the result turns out negative, it is not an argument that no law was violated. Ubi lex non distinguit, nec nos distinguere debemus. Where the law does not distinguish, we ought not to distinguish. Since there is nothing set down in the law which provides for distinction, we should not create arguments that since bestfriend was found negative, then no law was trespassed. The only thing that the law prohibits is when there is discrimination.

3. As regards, discrimination. One may argue that it is not the HIV testing during the hiring process that is prohibited. It is actually discrimination. Point taken. But that creates a confusion when the law is applied. Sec 3 of RA 8504 does not define what "discrimination" is, which makes things confusing. Because if, for example, X was found to be reactive after submitting himself to the medical test, and he was denied application to the job, since the law does not define what discrimination is in connection to HIV testing, it creates a legal loophole. The employer may reason out that the employee is not accepted because he fails in certain qualifications, when in truth and in fact, it was his status that was the basis of his non-acceptance. This is what we call in law as, "What cannot be legally done directly cannot be done indirectly."

1. The cafe is in the food and beverage industry. Perhaps the only reason they wanted to enforce such policy is not to discriminate but to actually enforce higher protection in food preparation. Since not all food requires exposure to fire which kills the virus (e.g. salad, drinks, etc) the cafe may have been only be well-meaning when it enforced HIV screening in its hiring process; this is to make sure that if a PLHIV will be employed, he will be given the best area to work on with lower risk of being wounded (i.e. knife cuts).

2. The cafe may also be providing higher premiums to its PLHIV employees. The only course though that they may know who is positive from who is not is by subjecting its applicants to a screening. This is highly a conjecture and supposition. So even if my bestfriend is not applying for a position in the kitchen (he is applying a managerial/supervisory position), still he is asked to undergo the screening.

The only reason that I can see where HIV testing in hiring procedure is defensible is when the HIV status imposes high risk on the job. The "rational connection" as the Labor Code provides. If there is higher risk of exposure to other people because of the job's nature, then HIV screening may be argued as to why it is needed. For example, when the job requires to deal with sharp instruments or food preparation or in healthcare or even in some industries, like bars or clubs or brothels, that is, the "entertainment" officers.

Always remember that you have a choice to back out from the hiring process if it comes along with HIV testing. Once you submit to the testing knowing fully well that you are already positive and that the position you are applying for does not have any connection with HIV exposure, the employer may argue (if in case in the future you complain) that you WAIVED your right to privacy. Waiver of a right is a direct and voluntary loss of any future claims against someone. Ginusto mo eh. Bakit ka magrereklamo ngayon? So when it appears to you that you have higher risk of being detected as PLHIV, weigh your pros and cons. And when you believe that being undetected is more important than a job in that company, stop and discontinue the process. There may be loss of job opportunity on your part, but you still did exercise your right to privacy and confidentiality.

P.S. I was surprised and disappointed to know that that cafe is employing HIV screening in its hiring process. Okay pa naman doon.