Losing fingerprints worse than losing teeth

I have been here in the town of Carigara in Leyte for more than two years, both as a matter of choice (to be with my wife to care for her 92-year-old mother) and by force of circumstance (restricted travel due to COVID lockdowns). Actually I have begun to like it here and have done some changes in my life as part of the process of adaptation.

For one, I completed two weeks ago the final step in my application for a national ID. In my application form, I put in as my new permanent address the home address of my wife here in Carigara. It took some hesitation to do it, but I finally gave up my old Cebu address for the national ID. Oh well, what the hell, I said to myself. Might as well roll with the punches and take what life unleashes at you.

So there I was two weeks ago, at the senior lane of the Philsys activity at the Kan Gara gym, willingly submitting my biometrics profile to computers manned by very young people. They took my photos, scanned my eyes, and attempted to obtain my fingerprints. I say attempted because in the close to an hour that they did everything short of placing a bulldozer on my fingers, they just could not obtain prints at the allowable 65% resolution.

I never knew that a person can lose his fingerprints to wear and tear in the course of aging. As a journalist of 40 years and counting, this is the first time I have come upon this fact. Maybe people just took it for granted that the fingerprints on one's hands will always be there, sort of like the nose. But there I was, struggling to have prints rise beyond the 25 to 35 resolution they consistently fluctuated to and from the register.

I was beginning to attract a swarm of Philsys attendants trying to see what had kept the flow from flowing. I was beginning to be a spectacle. Not wishing to offend me, these young kids began communicating in body signs. A young girl would raise an eyebrow, and a young chap would raise a hand surreptitiously, place thumb and forefinger together, and start rubbing. This, I guess, was youth-speak for "no fingerprints".

They tried wetting my fingers with water. No prints. They tried lotion. No prints. They tried paste. Still no prints. One guy applied pressure on my fingers. No go. Two guys tried the same tack. Still no go. One girl tried to sit on my hands but was prevailed by the boys not to. Finally, they all gave up trying. They told me I will just have to be exempted.

I asked what does that mean? They said they will just indicate in my card that I am exempted because my fingerprints cannot be obtained. I asked how that will affect the validity of my card? They said it will not. I asked how will it impair my transaction made through the card? Same thing. It will not affect my card transactions.

Oh well, what the hell. First you lose the color of hair. Then you lose hair itself. Then the hearing fades and the sight dims. Soon the teeth begin to fall. All of these departures, though, come with only a little reluctance in the parting. But fingerprints? Whoever heard of losing fingerprints? Maybe the experience passed by passing light, got told through missing teeth, and went unheard by unhearing ears.