INQUIRER Global Nation

Before it gained acceptance and widespread use among the upper and middle classes of the English-speaking world, ours included, “loot bag” used to refer to the bag or sack slung over the shoulder of a thief tiptoeing nimbly away from the scene of the crime as caricatured in many television cartoon shows or cartoon strips. The bag contained the loot of the crime, hence the name.

Now, with thieves – especially in government – no longer bothering about tiptoeing away from the scene of their crimes but rather are being whisked away in heavily-tinted SUVs with police escort to boot, “loot bag” more popularly refers to a bag containing gifts or giveaways usually given by fast-food chains where, most likely, this particular usage got its head start and powerful popularizing boost.

Thus, “loot bag” refers now to a gift bag, although with, again, thieves in government, this has, for them, always been one and the same thing. For them it has always, and only, been a matter of being at the right place at the right time, and the loot or gift, rather, is just there simply for the taking.

As a creation of the fast-food industry, the loot bag is a favorite gimmick to snare customers, often children who are particularly susceptible to these gimmicks. And parents, too, who actually pay for these gimmicks – “There is no such thing as a free lunch” is a favorite fast-food industry slogan – and who can’t be bothered any longer about what gifts to give to their children or the gifts their children give to other children.

Still, not all loot bags are enticements for mostly junk stuff from the fast-food chains.

Last week Luz received a loot bag. Since, at seven weeks, crying is still the most eloquent form of communication and fastest form of mobility she is capable of, we received the bag on her behalf. She could have been given the bag earlier but she did not yet have the card that everybody has here, giving the card-bearer access to government services and facilities – a health-insurance card that also serves as one of the main forms of identification.

Having this card is a requirement, at whatever age, to being provided with a city access card. This card affords access to, among others, the municipal library network, consisting of 10 libraries in the five sectors of the city. All these libraries have specialized sections for children, including special reading and multimedia spaces for them.

Luz’s access card is similar to all other access cards, including mine, save for one respect. Instead of her picture it bears a smiley face. Just as well. She wouldn’t have been able to stay put or hold her head up for her portrait to be taken.

(Parenthetically, it reminds me of one of Budoy’s UP identification cards with a similar smiley face that he somehow was able to have made, despite this being already the credit-card type of ID card. And, he was able to use it, too. Only he knows how he was able to pull it off, on both counts.)

So, with her access card, she also got her bag. It was a medium-sized brown paper bag with one color on the outside and a reverse print that said, “une naissance, un livre” (one birth, one book), which is the name of the reading encouragement program of the Quebec government, the public library system and the private sector, of which the loot bag is some form of welcome.

As can be expected, inside were materials that she will not have immediate use for, save for what might have been a squeak toy but is now only a squeeze toy. The rest of the materials – guides for introducing children to reading and writing, a catalog of children’s books, and a magazine on children – were clearly for the parents.

There was, however, one book that Luz can immediately make use of. Not necessarily read but can start associating with: words as sound and words as sight. This is also one book that one of her parents can start with in communicating with her, in what will be her maternal language and his adopted tongue.

Both are beginners, one knowing better than understanding, the other vice versa, especially with a language often beyond words. Cry or sourire (smile), for example.