A Father's Right: 61st Day Since James's Disappearance

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Today, November 17, marks the second month since James' abduction. We held a whole day of activities for the occaison. In the morning we traveled by caravan to different public places in La Trinidad, the capital city of the Procvince of Benguet, to hold programs. Our intention was to inform more people about James's work as an indigenous rights activist and his continued disappearance. In the afternoon we held a long program in the centre of Baguio City for the same reasons.

The pubic market in La Trinidad was the last stop for our program in the capital city. It was an important stop for the program, because it is the trading post for all of the vegetables in the province and is always very full of farmers and transporters, middle men, vendors and shoppers. We stopped there for a long time and numerous speakers stood on top of our jeep and discussed James, his case and how his abdution relates to other elements of state terrorism in the country.

Our stop in the Public Market was really emotionally for me. By the time we arrived and set up it was already after lunch. We had all been up since about 5:30am and had not eaten since breakfast. Today was also abnormally hot. So we were hungry and sweaty and exhausted as we started our last program. My job for the day was photo documentation. So I lethargically wandered around the market taking pictures. That is when I saw it - Arthur, James's father, standing along the street handing out fliers.

Affectionately refered to as Daddy Art by everyone in our office, James's father is a frail man in sixties. He is a caring man who has raised three good children. He now spends his time caring for his wife, who is in the late stages of alzeimers. There are numerous reasons that I feel emotionally attached to Daddy Art. He looks like my Grampie, for one, and watching him with his grandaughters, reminds me of my Grampie too. And though I have not told him, as I watch my own grandmother slip away from us faster and faster every year, I understand the stress and heartbreak that alzeimers brings. Daddy Art is also simply a good and caring man. Last week, after a meeting to brief local women religious on James's case, Daddy Art, with a sparkle in his eye, and a soft grin, bought me a pack of the convent's famous angel cookies. Despite the emotional strain his son's disappearance he has not become jaded or cold. Just the opposit. He is so emotional, and so constantly caring. It actually frequently feels like he is bringing us into his family, taking us under his wing of caring, instead of us taking him under our wing of protection.

So seeing Daddy Art, slightly bent over from stress and exhaustion, handing out fliers in the depressing heat I almost cried right then and there in between the vegetale trucks. All I could think about was how much this man deserves to be happy, instead of so, so sad. He has been a good citizen his whole life, he continues to be, and he has raised 3 very productive members of society. And instead of getting to sit back and enjoy his accomplishements in his old age, get to play with his grandchildren, enjoy the last moments with his wife before she slips away, he is standing today under the hot sun in the public market begging people to help him in the search for his son. This seems unfair to me. And it broke my heart today.

Daddy Art deserves better, he deserves to enjoy the life he has built for himself. And instead he has been forced to start begging for his son's.

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