My Kalabaw and Me

Sometime this I week I was supposed to be interviewed by some students from another university. I could not help myself with what happened, and so I think it's worth writing about.

Normally one would be flattered. I've been interviewed maybe once or twice before about my writing. It is something, if only one of those small acknowledgements that you are being read or you're making some dent in this large, momentous institution of literature. I'm always a little surprised that, with all the people that they can interview, literature students would pick up my stuff and like it enough to talk to me. And let's admit it, it feels nice, that little bit of positive reinforcement. On my end, I just like it that someone read my work. Their wanting to talk to me, then, is a great big bonus.

Which is why the interview turned out a great big bummer.

One student contacted me on a Saturday, asking if I could be interviewed for a project that they were doing for a literature class. I said, yeah great, and asked the kind of questions they would be asking. We set the interview for Wednesday, and they said they would be asking me about my writing and my bio. Ok fine.

The group shows up. There are six or seven of them. I open the door and they tumble into my office at the faculty center. We have a bit of trouble setting up the shot because of their number and the size of my room. Once I'm sitting I say, hey shouldn't you ask me some preliminary questions or anything before we start shooting? Being used to interviewing people, I value the interviewer establishing some rapport, if even just a little bit, before the actual interview starts. To answer me, they all look at each other, then start nodding their heads.

I ask, what about my writing am I gonna talk about? They look at each other. Then I ask, what have you read? They say that they haven't read anything that I've written. Then I ask, have you read anything about me? Negative to that too. So I say, You haven't read anything I've written, and you haven't bothered to research about me? That's right? You have absolutely no idea who I am or what i do? To this they nod in the affirmative.

I could have been more pissed and thrown them out. It's just plain damn sloppy to interview someone and not do any research. I asked, Why are you interviewing me then? The beautiful, glorious answer, the answer to all the academic work and the initiative behind it these days, "SIR REQUIRED E."

I take the time to set a meeting and talk with these kids, they can't take the time to friggin' google my name (see previous post, My Secret Vanity).

They ask me about my life, tell them my biography. To this the chance for fun overwhelms me.

"Lumaki ako sa bukid. Hindi ako nakapagaral nung bata ako dahil pinagtatrabaho ako sa farm. Lagi akong nasa fields kasama ko si Manny, yung kalabaw ko. Best friend ko si Manny. Tapos namatay siya hindi ko alam kung bakit. Nung namatay si Manny, that's when I realized that I wanted to be a writer."

Then some senseless questions :

Sir, have you won any awards or gotten any kind of acclaim?
Yes.
Would you like to talk about them?
No.

Could you tell us the titles of your works?
Yes I could.
What are they?
Well, you could google them can't you?

Did you ever think you would be famous because of your writing?
(Now what kind of question is that?) No

Can you say something inspiring for those who would want to be writers?
No. No one would be inspired by anything I have to say. (Who am I Kris Aquino?)

What would you like to tell people then?
READ. It's important for people to read. Really.

And thus went the interview. I kept apologizing because I felt I was being too crabby or difficult, but it could not be helped really. I only wonder if the story of my kalabaw will live on as a piece of academic work.