Aside from writing this column, I’m pretty much retired, yet I’ve never been busier. I never had a nine-to-five job to retire from. I grew up observing my family engaged in the oldest profession in the world: They were rentiers.

Dad practiced corporate law and also taught it, and wrote a daily column in The Manila Times. But it was being a rentier that made him more or less free of financial worries and gave him time to relax. This was, of course, before he became a full-time congressman from Manila and much later on, head of the unofficial Philippine Embassy in Taipei for President Cory.

He especially liked investing in rentable pieces of property and preached the wisdom of generally buying something that would eventually pay for itself, and much more. He also saw the practicality of borrowing—“using other people’s money,” as he would say. He’d brag that, like an haciendero, he and Mom only had to keep an eye on the calendar and collect rent on the 15th and end of the month, which coincided with pay distribution. Eventually it became easy for me to follow in their footsteps, especially when some of their rentables were divided between me and my brother, Danny.

Sense of security

After my first marriage ended, rentals became my only source of income. It gave me some sense of security. After unloading over time, I’m left with a small piece of property I’m still paying for but not intended for renting; I plan to sell it eventually.

I’m pretty much done being a rentier. The quality of tenants has gone down along with the general quality of people. The unwelcome influx of mainland Chinese makes me particularly lucky I’m out of the business. When I needed it, it served me well, and to this day I am grateful for my dad’s advice. Real estate has indeed given me the freedom and cushion to do the things I like to do in my old age, in the company of family and friends.

Life had been cool and almost predictable until the Wuhan virus sneaked in. Whether through the unrestrained and unchecked direct entrance of mainland Chinese and the almost unnatural special treatment given them, it doesn’t really matter now—we are not alone. Until the virus is beaten by a vaccine, travel plans—the least of our worries, really—will be indefinitely postponed and our social interaction limited and selected.

One positive consequence is that hygienic practices are encouraged and may in time become a good habit for all of us. We’re also staying home more, and visiting malls and eating out less. We may have just solved the traffic problem, who knows?

Do we go on?

Meanwhile, a debate goes on among us seniors. Do we go on with our already limited activities like homecomings, meetings, reunions and occasional lunches out? Vergel’s daughter, Ayis, a doctor, has advised to minimize crowd activities or, better yet, stay home. She’s right, of course. I may have turned 80 at just the right time. Compared to those aged 60-79, I now belong to the age bracket less susceptible to the Wuhan virus—I don’t really know how that works—but, among the few of us who get it, especially those whose immune systems have been compromised, the mortality rate is among the highest. In any case, life goes on. Risky decisions have to be made from time to time.

Last Sunday we had a late lunch in our favorite restaurant at SM Aura, Providore, before proceeding to a ballet matinee in a theater there. The ballet, the last for Ballet Manila’s 24th season, has made us fans of the company all over again. This time Vergel’s love for opera piqued his curiosity: Verdi’s “La Traviata,” a particular favorite of his, was being performed in ballet in a twin bill.

Level of perfection

We in the audience could only watch in awe. The level of perfection reached could only have been the result of rigorous and corporal punishing practice. The first ballet was from “Carmina Burana,” an opera set in the 11th-12th century, another good-and-evil conflict, with which I was not familiar. It was choreographed by Rudy de Dios. I loved both the music and the dramatic dancing.

“La Traviata” had our own preeminent prima ballerina, Lisa Macuja-Elizalde, as choreographer. This was a different task altogether, unlike the happy fairy tales of princesses she was used to. She also had to reduce the two-and-a-half-hour opera to 43 minutes. How she agonized having to limit herself to a few arias and having to leave out some of Verdi’s great music.

She said she listened to Verdi’s music and let the music create the dance. It was a double treat as the arias were sung by a young Placido Domingo and Ileana Cotrubas, unknown to me, but whose soprano transported me to aural bliss.

Whether in dancing or doing choreography, Lisa is consistently generous with her talents and life-learned techniques. As choreographer she is as instinctive as she is as a dancer. It was painful to let go of her as a dancer, because everyone else suffers in comparison, but we welcomed her, looking forward to more of her, as choreographer.

Throughout “La Traviata” my husband and I couldn’t help but visualize Lisa herself in the role of Violeta. Not to remove well-deserved credit from the very capable soloist, but the image of Lisa in the role brought more tears to our already moist eyes from the tragic story and rapture of Verdi’s music.