Peripatetic

Rey David A. Gayas

peri·​pa·​tet·​ic ˌper-ə-pə-ˈte-tik: 

of, relating to, or given to walking; moving or traveling from place to place; itinerant.

Walking along the streets is therapeutic. Ancient philosophers usually did this to think and have discourse in the marketplaces, where symposia arose; and the pinnacle of debates, the podium, and stages were established. One time, Thales had thought that everything is made up of water while walking blankly in the ports of Athens. 

At present, sophisticated thinkers and the marketplace do not coincide. Maybe, philosophers or high degree educators and their students are now in high-rise condominiums and skyscrapers of the busy business centers. The marketplace is biased towards the ruffians, small-scale money lenders, and noisy vendors who are updated with the lives of actors and actresses. Walking along the marketplace seems to make one soiled and perspired. Why go, when the malls are open? The people love that comfortable place rather than the dusty, murky marketplace. 

Walking along the marketplace is duty-bound for an itinerant. The smelly wet market and the soiled dry market are the canvass of the common folk. It is where all ends meet. All walks of life can be seen in the marketplace. 

I remember myself being streetwise, pocketing changes from groceries when asked to buy in the market by my parents. That is how I learned to haggle, to join the crowd for sales, and to know the exact location of good merchandise in Baliuag.

I still walk in marketplaces. I learned that Balintawak market offers so many wholesale fruits and vegetables during dawn, where there is literally a sign. When I was a kid, Divisoria and Carriedo were my favorite places because of the street foods and the cheap toys. Now, I do not even have time to walk in Binondo even if it is nearby. 

Continuing these walks still make me grounded amidst my busy young adult life. Sometimes, I just want to walk home and enjoy the light of the fading day.

As a law student, being opinionated can be one’s nature. The old-school newspaper and coffee are already out of touch. I can see the news on  my phone or on television. The real challenge now is to read between the lines of what is fed by those devices. Quid est veritas? – Is it true? It is a question asked by Pilate to Jesus, who never responded to the question. “See for yourself.” – Maybe this is the ringing thought  of Pilate why he had to wash his hands and say to the crowd, “He’s yours to judge, my hands are clean.” It is because he is high up in those towering buildings, not grounded along the marketplace, the street, where the commoners walk and soiled. His judgment was not inclined along with his teachers, the ancient thinkers. 

Thousands of years have passed, yet the peripatetic person is still relevant towards educating young minds. The danger is still lurking in  those streets. For what we can know in this journey can be either fatalistic or corrupted, or worse, to be judged as subversive and revolutionary. Now, I walk these streets again to be grounded to the roots and cling on to reality.