Push Admin

How this taho vendor is surviving the pandemic

Article (news)

Leah C. Salterio

<div class="embed-wrap"><figure data-feedback="fb:likes,fb:comments"><img src="http://sa.kapamilya.com/absnews/abscbnnews/media/2020/news/07/26/taho1.jpg"/><figcaption>Taho vendor Mario Mabuti. Photo provided by author</figcaption></figure></div>MANILA -- Afternoons in the streets of BF Homes Paranaque normally teem with private cars and school buses bringing young students home from school. At times, there are delivery vehicles, too, for water, food or other home necessities.One familiar figure roaming around the village streets in his sidecar is Mario Mabuti, a taho vendor. Everyday, he gets awaited by homeowners craving for that syrupy soy pudding, with caramelized sugar and sago pearls.Mabuti, fondly known as “Kuya Mario” or simply “Mamang Taho” to most village residents, either honks his horn or shouts “tahoooo” to signal his arrival. In a quiet village where only the mere bark of the neighbor’s dog can disturb the afternoon, hearing “tahoooo” can bring happiness and even excitement, albeit momentarily.However, when the enhanced community quarantine was enforced in the whole of Luzon middle of March, Mabuti was not allowed access inside the village to peddle his nutritious taho. He was compelled to stay at home, with no possible stream of income.“Pagkain naman ito,” Mabuti said sadly, referring to his taho. “Pero hindi ako taga dito [sa BF Homes], kaya hindi na ako pinayagan pumasok para magtinda ng taho noong lockdown.”Mabuti is a resident of Muntinlupa City, but originally hails from Cagayan Valley, where he was born and raised. At the age of 16, he came to Manila to try his luck here. He never looked back.“Forty years no ako dito sa Maynila,” beamed the 56-year-old Mabuti. “Teenager pa lang ako, umalis na ako sa Cagayan. Mahirap din ang buhay doon. Sa bukid lang kami nakatira.”His parents are still in Cagayan Valley, where he goes home annually. Every fiesta in August, he makes it a point to visit his parents and three other siblings.“Masaya kapag fiesta kasi may perya,” offered Mabuti. “Nadala ko na doon ang asawa ko, pati mga anak ko. Pero hindi kami sabay-sabay pumupunta. Mahal din ang pamasahe.”<div>FAMILY MAN</div>His wife is from the Visayas, although they both met here in Manila. They got married in civil rites in 1988. They have five children, four boys and a girl. The eldest is 27. Not one among his kids was able to finish school or earn a degree.“Wala sa kanilang nakapag-college,” Mabuti frowned. “Mahirap talaga. Hindi namin kaya.”<div class="embed-wrap"><figure data-feedback="fb:likes,fb:comments"><img src="http://sa.kapamilya.com/absnews/abscbnnews/media/2020/news/07/26/taho2.jpg"/><figcaption>Taho vendor Mario Mabuti. Photo provided by author</figcaption></figure></div>Two of Mabuti’s kids are now married. The youngest is an incoming third year high school. His wife is a stay-at-home partner who looks after the family. All of them live in the same house in Muntinlupa, where they are long-time tenants.His only daughter, now 19, worked for a year as a nanny, for one of the homeowners inside BF Homes, to help her parents. However, the girl was compelled to leave after only a year. She is now a single mom.The lockdown turned out to be a really tougher test for Mabuti and his family. There were days when they didn’t eat three times a day. “Wala po talaga akong kita,” Mabuti lamented. “Sa ayuda lang kami umaasa noong lockdown, kaya tipid talaga.“Tiis lang kami lahat. ‘Yung dalawang anak kong lalaki, sa construction nagta-trabaho, so wala ring kita dahil tigil din ang gawa.”Penetrating a village like BF Homes to sell taho gives Mabuti the small perks he is thankful for. While the guards and maintenance personnel know him on a first name basis, he also gets to talk to some homeowners and their children, most of whom are his regular customers or “suki.”“Mga bata dito sa BF lumaki na lahat,” he noted fondly. “Kapag hindi ako naka-daan kahit isang araw lang, hinahanap na nila ako. ’Yung iba, parang nagagalit na malambing naman. Parang nami-miss nila ako.” (Laughs)Mabuti is likewise grateful for the occasional treats he receives from the homeowners. Some give him food, while others give him new shirts or used clothes. Still, there are some who even lend him money when he badly needs it.<div>DAILY GRIND</div>Every day, Mabuti leaves the house at around 8 a.m. to get his supply of taho in the factory at Soldiers Hills near his house in Putatan, Muntinlupa. “Dati, tanghali na ako umaalis,” Mabuti aid. “Pero ngayon na may curfew, dapat tapos na ako magtinda bago mag 5 p.m. Nakaka-uwi na ako.”Inside BF Homes, Mabuti patiently plies the streets of every enclave along Concha Cruz to sell taho. He brings a small bag that contains a water jug and usually, a pack of instant noodles for his lunch or merienda.More often than not, Mabuti’s taho containers get wiped out by the end of the afternoon. On good days, one or two enclaves will easily consume the taho early on, so there’s no chance he can still sell to the next one. There are days, however, when he goes home with very little income.Normally, Mabuti takes pride in bringing home a net income of P400 for the day. Yet, his parental duties do not end in merely hawking taho. Since jeepneys have yet to be on the streets again and his wife cannot leave their house yet, Mabuti has to pass by the market daily to buy food for the family.<div>JOBLESS</div>From drivers of public utility vehicles (PUVs) to waiters and cooks to airline pilots and personnel, a lot of people lost their jobs and regular income when the lockdown was enforced.Even Mabuti, who was earning his keep from selling taho daily, worried about where to get money to buy food and other necessities for his family. That was his dilemma.After the enhanced community quarantine was lifted on June 1, Mabuti was not immediately able to return to the streets to sell taho. To be able to enter BF Homes again, he had to secure a health certificate to prove he is fit and COVID-19-free. Up to now, however, there are still enclaves that do not permit him to enter.One time, the wheels of Mabuti’s sidecar got ripped off and he didn’t have enough money to buy a new one. Without any vehicle for days, he was forced to carry the two aluminum containers of taho on his shoulders and walked several kilometers inside the village the entire day. To augment his income occasionally, Mabuti sells other food items like balut, penoy or chicharon. “Pero ngayon, wala akong pampuhunan,” he said. “Kaya wala akong ibang tinda kung hindi taho.”Although his sidecar is equipped with a giant umbrella, Mabuti still endures the scorching heat of the sun or goes through a sudden, heavy downpour especially this rainy season. He is forced to good to survive ever weather, working from sun up to sundown daily, even on Sundays, as long as he brings food for the family.“Thirty-five years na akong nagtitinda ng taho,” Mabuti said. “Binuhay ko ang mga anak ko sa trabahong ito. Walang nakatapos sa kanila [ng pag-aaral]. Hirap kami madalas, pero sanay na kaming lahat.“Pinakamahirap naglalakad, mainit at pinapawisan ka. Pero kailangan mag-trabaho araw-araw. Kailangan kumita. Ito lang ang alam kong trabaho. Wala akong ibang aasahan.”Despite his hardships, the taho vendor remains positive. He knows he has to work hard everyday and does not depend on others to survive.“Kailangan maging masipag ka,” he assured himself. “Wala kang ibang aasahan. Mahirap talaga ang buhay. Kapit lang.”

Mario Mabuti, a taho vendor, gets awaited by homeowners craving for that syrupy soy pudding, with caramelized sugar and sago pearls.

Mario Mabuti, a taho vendor, gets awaited by homeowners craving for that syrupy soy pudding, with caramelized sugar and sago pearls.