Cebu’s “Tubig Queen”: From street to stage

CEBU, Philippines - In a cramped, dimly lit room with limited ventilation, Dodoy runs the stick across his lower lip, every masterful stroke a testament to the countless times he has painted his lips. Today, the color is bright red to complement his outfit – a red hat adorned with plastic flowers and a poncho flecked with strips of fabric that resemble feathers.

From his lips, his fingers move to a spot near his nose on the left side of his face and draw a “mole” that is now becoming a trademark. Satisfied with the finish, he gives himself one final look and with nary a trace of inhibition walks proudly down his personal runway out the slums of Barangay Carreta.

The “Tubig Queen” is ready to face the world.

Beginnings

Dodoy to family and friends, Jay Khummer Teberio, 21, never planned of selling bottled water in the streets, much more sell them clad in flamboyant outfits.

“Unsa mana siya oy, crazy? Patagad lang na siya (What is he, crazy? He’s trying too hard to get attention),” are the words he often hears from drivers and passengers who are new to his style.

And crazier still do people see him when, as the traffic light turns red, he dances to a tune in his head, at times, even atop a jeepney’s bumper.

Dodoy was only 12 years old when his family moved to Cebu from Northern Samar. They decided to relocate in the hopes of a better life. Back in Catarman, Dodoy’s father, Juanito, was a fisherman and his mother, Flor, washed clothes for a living.

As they would find out later, life in Cebu is just as unkind. They ended up in the slums in Barangay Carreta and with absence of opportunities his mother was forced to return to washing clothes together with his elder sister.

When Dodoy was in Grade 6, his aunt gave the family P500, which kicked off their small business of selling bottled water, candies, biscuits, and softdrink.

Their spot at a major intersection at the North Reclamation Area is conducive to business as a red light would mean a captive market – drivers, passengers, even pedestrians crossing. The problem was that the spot was not theirs alone and competition was rather unforgiving.

On a lean day like when rain would hit hard, their income would dip as low as P300. For a family of six, this amount can barely put a decent meal on the table.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, so to speak, and with only P2 earning per bottle, Dodoy knew he had to attract as many customers as possible.

Thus unfurled the dancing, the singing, the theatrical shouting, the make-up, the costumes.

One day he would twirl around in a costume and in the next would sneak up with a booming voice by the jeepney window right behind an unsuspecting passenger. Many a passenger would often get startled, even shocked, but would eventually give in to the endearing vulgarity.

Even the drivers who were put off by Dodoy’s antics in the beginning learned to welcome his glitzy presence atop their bumpers.

Yet, as dramatic as Dodoy’s earnings grew, so did the reactions of customers and other vendors who remain opposed to his motives.

Dodoy shares there were even times, and many of these came, when fellow vendors in the street would curse him.

“Maligsan unta ka (hope a vehicle hits you)!”

“Patay na si Dodoy. Naligsan na. (Dodoy’s dead. He’s been hit by a car)”

He says he could only surmise that the words were borne out of envy but he simply chose to ignore them, no matter how hurtful. He had other more important things to worry about, chief of which was converting his bottles of water to cash to support his family and his studies.

School

With his two elder siblings falling short of a formal education, Dodoy was determined to get a college diploma.

This determination pushed him out of bed at 5 a.m. every day so he could help his mother open their stall and beat the competition. It has since been the two of them – what with his father suffering from hypertension. He would stay in the street until 7:00 a.m. before running back to the house to freshen up to catch his class at 7:30 a.m.

At the University of Cebu, there is no trace of the make-up or the costume, only the dedication and enthusiasm to learn. He chose to study the rudiments of becoming a teacher as he would want to stand in a classroom one day and share his knowledge with children.

In the afternoon, from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m., he would sneak back to the street before returning to school to attend his remaining classes that ran until 9 p.m.

If energy suffices when he reaches home, Dodoy would stay up to study otherwise he would pour over the books and tend to the assignments only at dawn.

The schedule may seem ruthless to an ordinary student, but not to someone like Dodoy who believes that while life and people may have plucked shreds of his dignity in the street, education is one thing no one can take away from him.

“Ang edukasyon ay napakahalaga sa atin… dako kaayo ni og tabang kay, until the end, madala nato inig kamatay (Education is very important… it can help a lot because it will be with us until the end, until we die),” Dodoy says.

And education is what he hopes the government will provide children who roam the city streets aimlessly. Having experienced poverty himself, Dodoy has seen how the absence of opportunity can take a toll on one’s life and future.

“Kining mga bata sa lansangan, bigyan sila ng edukasyon ug katolgan…ang mga pobre, tagaan og balay (Send the street children to school… provide homes to the poor),” he says.

Lesson

In the years he has juggled work and school, Dodoy learned one important lesson: Never give up.

His mantra today, “Never give up, go lang ng go! (Never give up, just keep on going!)”

He recalls a comment a “critic” gave his “performance” in the street:

“Buang ka. Mao ra gihapon, mu-eskwela ka, wala kay kaugmaon. (You’re crazy. Even if you go to school, you will never have a future.)”

Last March 15, 2017, Dodoy graduated from university, the first in his family to earn a degree. The applause was loudest at the school gymnasium when he walked the distance from his seat to the stage.

Dodoy says it was on graduation day when tears ran down his cheeks far more ferociously than in those times he grappled with the pain of every insult he received in the street.

Still, he says he bears no ill will on the people who have criticized or even chastised him. He says he even has them to thank because it was only when they tried to pull him down when his reason for living became much clearer and he mustered the courage to pull himself up and face every grueling day.

Despite his feat, Dodoy doesn’t want to give the bottled water up. In fact, he wants to keep them close albeit away from the piercing sun and the torrential rains – under the roof of a small eatery he wishes to put up with his family.

Until that happens, Dodoy’s romance with the street continues. He certainly doesn’t want to disappoint customers turned fans who would look for him just as their jeepneys reach the busy intersection at SM City Cebu.

The “Tubig Queen,” after all, like the cold water he sells to quench their thirst, is an instant and constant relief from the crudeness of commuting in the city – and in life – even in just one corner of the street. — /JMO (FREEMAN)