overload

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It was a hot afternoon (a rare occurrence this time of year) when we found ourselves somewhere along Jasmine Street. Sweating in the quaint home of a nice lady named Baby, we waited until the last of our five respondents had left to pack up our things and leave. Our next destination would be some area along Saint Vincent street that Kuya Fernan, a barangay worker who was helping us with our thesis, had picked out himself. The five of us, including Kuya Fernan himself, piled into Rap's car. Rap backed up the car as we prepared to exit onto San Simon.

As the tail of the car neared a wall, it let out a series of high-pitched beeps. "Ano yan?" inquired Kuya Fernan. "Wala yan, Kuya," we assured him. "Ah, akala ko yung katulad ng LRT. Na-overload." We laughed. Cheryl added, "Parang nasa elevator lang din."

Only half an hour later, we were in a house along Saint Vincent street, scrambling to assist the nice people who had taken time out of their day to answer our survey. Nearly all fifteen seats in the room had been filled with moms or dads or siblings, all progressing through our survey at different speeds. The children that they had dropped off at one end of the room were an added distraction.

At one point, the kids had begun to pile on top of each other on a swiveling chair, the taller ones trying to propel it around the room with their feet while the smaller ones hung on and giggled. Their coordination was poor, but they did managed to rock it back and forth a couple of times. When the owner of the house saw this, he playfully chided, "Uy, ma-o-overload na yan."

. . .

Now when I hear the word "overload," it will not only mean for me long nights trying to make sense of signal transduction pathways. "Overload" has also become the beeping of a car as it is about to meet an obstacle. It is the bated breaths of a compressed crowd in the cramped carriage of a tired train. It is the elevator doors refusing to shut until a volunteer steps up and steps out. It is the squeaking of a swiveling chair beneath the weight of giggling children.

Thesis is tedious and exhausting, but this is the load that has been placed upon our shoulders, and I bear it happily.