Look-alikes

I’ve pretty much grown up hearing comments like, “You really look like your brothers,” or “You really look like your brothers, but your nose is just flatter.” I had no qualms about those. After all, we’ve come from the same gene pool—my brothers and I. It just so happened that the Lord didn’t give me a more prominent nose bridge.

But I still praise God for who I am—and how I look. After all, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made,” as David puts it in Psalm 139:14. I really think we should have the same conviction that David had: if the world doesn’t publish our faces in the front covers of Vogue or, uhm, Liwayway Magazine, then so what?

Anyway, I decided to have a haircut a week ago. The barber asked me to remove my eyeglasses, which left me clueless as to what was happening to my hair because I couldn’t see my reflection clearly. When the haircut was done, I put on my eyeglasses and eventually realized that my haircut was actually shorter than my usual. Blame it on myopia.

From then on, the comments I’ve received suddenly became more numerous and diverse. My friend, Paul Velasco, thinks I look like Boy Abunda. He has asked people, “Sino’ng kamukha n’ya (referring to me)?” And then their imaginations would drift to places. When these people couldn’t think of anyone else who could possibly look like me, he would say, “Di ba, kamukha n’ya si Boy Abunda?”

Surprisingly, however, these people would nod in agreement and mutter, “Oo nga, ano?”

A couple of hours ago, Migs Cunanan told me, “Lance, may kamukha ka.”

“Sino?” I asked. “Parang kilala ko na ‘yan, ah.” I thought he thought that I looked like Boy.

“Huwag na lang. Baka magalit ka.”

“Hindi. Okay lang. Other people think I look like Boy Abunda, you know?”

“Mas may kamukha ka pa,” Migs said.

“Who?” I asked.

“Si Mahatma Gandhi.”


(Do we look alike? You decide.)