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If Rizal were alive, what would he say to us? "Oh, I saw Rizal today; he's right down at his place!" the stranger behind me exclaimed. He was selling taho. I looked behind my back, and my interest was piqued by the man; we sought the same thing. "I'm sorry, Po, but what could you say that you saw him?" I asked in intrigue; the man scoffed because he thought I didn't believe him. "Well, you should believe me, young lady. I saw him with my two eyes! He was right in Luneta!" he defended himself, gesturing to the monument. I let out a scoff; I was offended by him. "Take me," I demanded of him. "I've got taho to sell!" I rolled my eyes. "Well, you shout while walking for a living. It's regular for you," I argued back. I was reluctantly infuriated with him and yet wanted him to be infuriated with me.
"No, find him yourself… It's a big country out here," he attempted to appease me. "Fine!" I exclaimed. I began to walk towards Luneta. I wanted to see Rizal and get this over with ONE SIMPLE QUESTION! "Taho! Taho! Taho!" The person behind me chanted. I let out a sigh of exhaustion, yet somehow I was relieved… Until I looked behind my back to see him again. "What do you want from me?!" I shouted at him; I was now deeply infuriated by his infatuation. "I wanted to see Rizal for the second time. It's nice to see a historical poet be around here... and still live in the same oppressive government," he answered calmly—very honest of him. He was right; this is the point of the question. We still live in the oppressive government, and that's why he wrote Noli Me Tángere & El Filibusterismo. "Fine, just sell your taho while this monument is looking at us. This better not be like Night At The Museum," I reluctantly answered him; we both kept walking.
We walked to the National Museum; we both began to walk inside since there was no fee to pay. "He is most likely to be here," he said as we walked in. We were both looking around the museum but not really exploring, which was the point of finding him. I looked behind my back for the second time… And suddenly the taho behind him was gone. "Na saan ba yung taho mo?!" I exclaimed. I was worried until he let out a chuckle in amusement. "You know how tourists are. I got enough money for the day; I sell near his monument for a reason," he answered me, shrugging his shoulders. I nodded in agreement; money is important, especially in this decade. "Okay, let's go our sepa—" I planned until he interrupted me by saying, "No, you youngin. You need a guardian." I rolled my eyes but followed him.
We began to explore the exhibition that honored him. "I bet five pesos that ladies are going to surround him," he remarked. I let out a chuckle in amusement. "Oh, you are that old?" I mocked him as we explored his hall. We noticed him, looking at his sculpture known as Josephine Sleeping. And, of course, people were surrounding him; the two of us glanced at each other mischievously. "Yung five pesos ko?" he remarked. I rolled my eyes in reluctance again, getting my wallet out and giving him the five pesos. "Okay now, our actual goal?" I reminded him; he let out a sigh in exhaustion as we surfed through the crowd. "Mr. Rizal, Ano ba yung thoughts mo sa Gen Z?" I asked him; he began to turn around. It truly was him; I was in a state of shock and was deeply speechless. "Yung Isipan ko—" he answered, but "In English po, she needs it puro sa subject—yung English." Jose Rizal let out a frustrated and exhausted sigh. "Well, yung isipan ko—Ay, yung scapegoat generation cause they have been blamed for stuff and—are mainly described as unserious, a mess, and deeply… Ano ba yung word—Online. Despite all the ruckus around them, they are hopeless but continue to be quite hopeful sa jokes yung mga tao ng gobyerno them, especially sa mga korap sa Pilipinas—Noong bansa natin," he answered, thoughtful as I expected; the two of us were speechless. Rizal stopped looking at us; we both cleared our throats. "Now—Ang galing yung sumago—" he said until I dragged him outside of the museum. "Now, sell your taho," I softly said to him as we were both out of the museum; he put his pingga right at his shoulder. "Will I see you again, young lady?" He softly asked me, turning around to see me for the last time. "If we ever see a historical figure again… Maybe?" I answered him, shrugging my shoulders. We went our separate ways, not looking back and pondering what Rizal said.