IN BETWEEN A PRIEST & A COP

I found myself in a rather interesting position two nights ago. I took my friend out for dinner, a priest in his 40’s. He is the Provincial Superior of one of the religious orders in the country. We try to catch up once in a while over coffee, or breakfast. This time it was dinner and I chose a cozy Italian restaurant in Mandaluyong. I couldn’t have asked for anything more: my favorite cheeses, dry red wine, salami, al dente pasta with porcini, rich dark chocolate gelato and stimulating conversation. We rarely have opportunities to catch up for this dear friend of mine is always traveling around the country and around the world as part of his duties as Provincial Superior. He definitely travels more than this travel writer. So, when we get the opportunity to catch up, the stories go on and on for hours. And tonight the conversation flowed.

When we left the restaurant, I was faced with the difficult task every female driver hated. I had to skillfully maneuver my old van (without any power steering) out of parallel parking, with an inconsiderate driver parked very close to my front. I successfully managed with the assistance of my friend and a security guard. I thought my driving ordeal was over for the evening. My sense of direction is not the best. In a confusing web of little roads, I begged my friend’s help to navigate back to the main road. After a couple of wrong turns, we overshot the portion of the main road we were aiming for. And the only solution seemed to be making a U-turn under a flyover. But I was unsure if it was allowed. Three cops stood in a huddle under the flyover. In the process of turning, I tried to get their attention to ask if it was allowed. There was a white cab in front of us. Father suggested perhaps it was allowed because the cab was making a U-turn, and they didn’t catch him. But simultaneously both the cab and I were apprehended.

Right there, I found myself literally in between a cop and a priest. The cop immediately asked for my licence, and I explained that the sign was not clear. It should have read, “No entry.” He asked me to move my van. And I obediently did. The young lean cop (obviously still new in the game, minus the pot belly of older cops) then said, “So papaanong gagawin natin?” (So what will we do?”). He then went on to say, “Pwede namang wala nang seminar at tubosin mo na lang ang licensya mo.” (I could spare you the seminar and you will just have to pay the fine to get your license). It was obvious he was hinting at grease money I would give him. But I was more annoyed that he was leaving a bad taste to my delicious evening. And, it irritated me to get a ticket when I never had a traffic violation before. But the thought of bribing him didn’t even cross my mind. Perhaps, it didn’t help I had a priest next to me.

I then attempted to explain one more time to the cop. I told him I was trying to get their attention prior to turning to ask if I could make a U-turn then, Father pointed to the cab turning. Without realizing it, I had named dropped “Father.” The young cop still did not want to budge. Two other young cops came to join in. And when they found out I was a priest, they said. “Eh kasama mo pala si Father….” (“Oh, so you’re with a priest!”). “Finally, a breakthrough!,” I thought to myself. I then explained that I was driving the priest home and we got lost. And instantly, he handed my license back to me. What a relief!

I immediately, stepped on the gas and drove away. My friend noticed my tension pointing how quickly I drove away. But my nerves were still shaken. He then said, “You should have apologized right away. It always works.” I apologized to him for unconsciously name-dropping that he was a priest. He said, “No problem, at least you got your license back.”

For the rest of the drive home, I continued to be affected. And, my friend noticed how bothered I was with every pothole I carelessly drove over. Women are emotional that way. We easily get shaken and affected. Men often suffered emotional amnesia. They quickly forget their emotions. And, my friend admitted how something like that would not shake him.

But something else struck my friend. “Despite all the flaws and scandals of priests, it’s amazing how much respect we still get.” He then went on to say, “Perhaps this is unique to the Philippines or maybe Boston where there are large Irish Catholic communities.”

It then struck me. I was placed in a unique position of being in between two men of uniform. I was in between two men of power- one representing the church and the other the state. My friend insists it was not because he was a priest that I got my license back. What was it then my persistence, my charm, or that tiny voice that apologized in the end?

I teased my friend that he should have worn his “costume” – the clergy garb he dons at mass. That would have easily done the job. Interestingly, men in uniform have a different effect on me. While men dressed as priests or cops should command authority, in the end, it is their behavior will merit my respect for them. It is rare to find yourself in between a cop and a priest. I am not a big fan of all priests. But they still generally gain my respect. Regarding cops, well, I’d rather have no contact with them.