All in the name

THOUGHTS UNLIMITED
Eugene Balitang

The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly roll a rock to the top of the mountain, whence the rock would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.–The Myth of Sisyphus

LAGAWE, Ifugao -- A mediocre lawyer in a law office that carries a big name. That’s me. Or rather, that’s what I have become. Ok, let’s talk about the law offices in an attempt to market it to the hordes of would-be clientele, or as a logical first topic. After all, we got to start somewhere before we move on to unlimited fields. And we shall begin by weaving a portrait of the stable from where this self-declared poet who has undertaken this endeavor towards literary fame is nestled. Here goes…

In the City of Baguio , practicing under a law office that carries a name of character and integrity has its ups and downs, the delineations are very much apparent like our double-edged hinalong. For one, you would be accorded the respect deserving of the office name by your brethren in the Bar and, to a certain extent, in the Bench. And that, the performance expected of you will be in direct proportion to the esteem and prestige accorded to the name of your office. Conversely, you will bear the wrath of vengeance of those who have bled blood for the glory of the name you now carry.

The friends in the profession that the Boss has made and kept during his 21-year law practice became quite naturally our friends also. Personally, I was given some leeway in my bungling performance by these friendly judges and opposing counsels. Some even go out of their way to lend a hand in shaping me up in my chosen profession.

But the downside is, the legal gladiators who have bled blood from the sword of the Boss in many legal combats have eaten us alive in and out of the courtroom arena. It is on these occasions where I have felt my mediocrity. At least, the Boss did not forget to forewarn us. Roll with the punches, he always advised. Roll with the punches and get in the ring again. Fall if we must, but rise we must, too. Die another day.

The clients are a different story. Their expectations are sometimes way beyond our utmost capacities. Many a time have I told clients how much I am sorry for not being half the legal eagle the Boss is no matter how hard I try. In fact, some clients have withdrawn their cases from the office after the Boss took his oath as solon for the lone district of Ifugao. Some withdrew afterwards when they realized that we are not at par with the man whose name our office carries. Others wanted the quality and speed of service expected of the Boss that we, most often, cannot match – these clients would later claim that we are not minding their cases (and report it to the Boss).

But you could say I am lucky. I joined the office at a time when the Boss was still around to teach the basic rudiments of the profession. And for this, I am forever grateful and indebted. In the year and a month that I have trekked the narrow road under his guidance, I could honestly say I was ready to fly on my own when he took his dazzling exit from the race. But alas, when the rest of the Falcons came aboard, I knew I am a poor mentor in their solitary trek on the narrow path. Though I was an avid student of the art of courtroom drama, I cannot teach it myself.

The situation in the City of Baguio is similar here in our Province of Ifugao as far as law practice under the office is concerned-but with some very heavy additives. The expectations are very much similar-and more. Here, practice and politics are Siamese twins.

Looking back, I guess there was an unknown hand that muddled the circumstances and played with our pitiful mortal lives. Destiny? Or karma? Honestly, I had intended to carry the torch the Boss had passed on until it’s time to pass it on to somebody more worthy of the fame the name of the office carries. And this I had planned to do in the City of Baguio . But then the wind changed its course and I was blown sky high unknowingly. I became a husband and a father in the year that I am about to start carrying the flaming torch that is the office, or rather, the name of the office.

We have mentioned time and again that hunger is a constant friend in the narrow road of law practice. I have been in more hunger-ridden paths before and I wouldn’t have minded walking another road of this nature. But alas, what kind of man is he who lets his wife and son share the hunger unnecessarily, no matter how lofty the journey may be. So we came home and decided to stay – for good. At least, life in the province for a mediocre lawyer with a family is more bearable than in the city, unless you have your roots in the city in the first place.

And so here I am in the province plying my trade and earning the dough for tomorrow’s bread. Doing my mediocre best for the glory of the profession and the name of the office. Upholding the esteem with which it is held high under the surrounding circumstances. So far, it is no easy feat. But we try hard each day to move on. Die another day.

Half of the poor souls who flock the law office here in Lagawe since we started operating last June of this year are actually not after our legal services. Their concerns range from contracts, scholarships, jobs, promotions down to recommendations and things related to the Boss in his political self and not as a legal eagle. Time and again have I explained to these lost souls that there is now a Congressional District Office right at the heart of Lagawe – and more importantly, there is an official Congressional District Officer, a lawyer to boot, who is responsible for all political matters concerning the Boss here in the province. Some understand. Some stubbornly insist that I am the nearest plate to the stove, thanks to my mom who still harbors the thought that I am the right-hand man. Uh, mothers!

Alas, half of the hombres who come for our legal services are por pabor. Pro-bono. After all, isn’t it the office of the congressman? Indeed. But once in a while when I’m in the mood, I tell our clients that the law office is independent of the Boss as a politician. What he lent us was only his name and the prestige that goes with it - but we still have to pay Don Oscar whenever we get our office supplies at Lagawe Trading. We have to pay the postal corporation when we send out legal pleadings and official communications-even if the client is a charity case since he is a volunteer political leader of the Boss (complete with his appointment papers). If the mood hits me, I refer them to the best lawyer in town-the Legendary Public Attorney (after all, he claims that PAO is an extension of the CLO).

We’ve hung a billboard carrying the name of the office in kilometric dimension just the other day without bugles and drums-even our office secretary, R-33, did not notice. But what the heck! Billboard or no billboard, we are already branded like cows. The name is already attached to us-or rather, we are already attached to the name, no matter how hard we deny it. We will rise and fall with the Boss-be it in the legal arena or in the political battlefield. This is our tragedy. Our destiny. Our pitiful life. All in the name… (reprinted from Thoughts Unlimited, November 2002)