Recollections

What’s the very first memory that you can recall?

Mine was playing around my grandparents' house and sliding down the stairs, breaking picture frames and jalousie windows. There was a red swing at the garage and I would scare the folks by swinging as high as I can.

While standing up. Oh yeah, I was a regular daredevil back then. My Lolo would even curse in español because of it.

We would always stay at that old house whenever my mother and father would get into an argument. My mom still has her old room, and she would tell me stories when she was still in college. That room felt like a time machine because up until my grandparents migrated to the US in the year 1999, that room remained unchanged. We would stay there for days up to months at a time, and Nanay would find comfort in recalling the past when she was still a "dalaga". As I grow up, I would occasionally enter that room and my mom would be wiping her tears and closing old photo albums. I can only assume that my mom secretly hoped that she could go back to her younger years when she still had no commitments.

I don’t want to think that she regretted having me, but I do know that she terribly misses the life she had before she met my dad.

I was around 4 years old then, and I was studying at The National Federation of Women’s Clubs (NFWC) pre-school, and boy did I hate going there. I was sick and tired of reciting the story of Josefa Llanes Escoda together with my classmates. I didn’t like the itchy blue polo and the dark blue short pants. I hate the fact that everything that’s taught in school can be learned just by watching 30 minutes of Batibot.

I was always hiding from my Lolo whenever the time comes for me to go to school. (My mom would be working at the clinic at that time) There was this big decorative jar that I can fit into. I got my hands slapped by my grandparents in more occasions than I can remember because I always managed to get my uniform dirty and messed up. I didn’t mind if it would mean skipping classes or shaving off a couple of minutes from school.

Once upon that time, I was again running from my Lolo. I can tell that he is really angry when he brandishes this kawayan stick while he runs after me. I hid at the room at the back end of the house. Lolo rarely goes there. I bolted the wooden door behind the screen door behind me. The coast is clear.

It was a small dimly-lit room, with 2 double-decker beds at the opposite each other. There were also some dressers and a table in the middle of the room. I could hear my Lolo’s voice from the small window overlooking the garage at the far end of the room. I thought the room was empty, but when I turned around, there was a woman in the room and she was probably watching me when I entered the room. She had her finger across her lips, signaling me to keep quiet.

I recognized the woman as the one who helps nanay pack our backs whenever its time for a "vacation" to our grandparents' place. She is the one who bathes me, cooks for us, and tells me to put away my Lego blocks after I use them. She is our maid. When I saw her, she was sitting on the bottom bunk of the double-decker on my right. She held on her arm a baby.

She put the baby down on the bed and she told me that I can come near if I promised to keep quiet. I carefully walked towards the bed and peeped at the wooden railings at the end of the bed. The baby was wearing white clothes and lampin, its arms are on the side of its head and its legs are slightly bent. The baby's eyes were closed and its mouth is moving in reflex from drinking. (I was too young to make a clear recollection, but I may have run into her breastfeeding.)

"Baby ko sya," the mother said. She said something else after that, but I can't remember. I looked at the baby, with the pinkish folds of skin on her arms and legs. As a kid, I was fascinated at the small creature.

"Hanap ka na ng Lolo mo," the mother smiled. "Pag balik mo mamaya sa school, gusto mo maglaro kayo?"

I stared at the baby, thinking of what kind of games we could play. "Opo," I replied.

"Mamaya pag-uwi mo baka gising na sya," she told me. I looked at the mother and nodded. It seems mothers have a natural calming yet commanding effect. I hurried outside the room to go to school, knowing that someone was waiting for me back home.

=================

I didn't expect that I'll be going home later than usual. I was irritable and hungry. I closed the gates and opened the front door. The living room lights were dimmed and no one was around. From the living room, I can hear the kitchen TV is on, so I proceeded there with the thought that the person who was waiting for me is there.

"Good Evening," I greeted her as I entered the kitchen. I didnt feel irritable after that.

"Uy andyan ka na. Sayang di mo naabutan yung Gokusen," she said. I looked at the kitchen TV and saw that a local soap was on. "How was your day?" she asked.

"7 na ko nakalabas ng office. Traffic pa. Hehe gutom na ko."

"Tara mag dinner na tayo," she suggested. She stood up and went to the stove to start plating the food. "Gutom na rin ako eh."

I noticed that the kitchen table is already prepared. The 2 plates, glasses, placemats and silverware are neatly setup in front of the chairs where we usually eat. "Sorry," I apologized for making her wait. "Ano ulam?"

"Afritada"

"Na naman?!"

"Baket? May reklamo ka?" she asked. Her back was turned but I knew that she was smiling.

I put down my bag on the chair and walked towards her. "Wala po," I grinned to tell her that I was only joking even though she knew that I wasn’t being serious. I helped her bring the food from the stove to the table.

"Anong nangyari sa Gokusen?" I asked as we were eating. She replied and she began mentioning Japanese names that I couldn't even recognize. I can tell that a good happened in Monday's episode because she was smiling when she narrated it.

I didn't mind that I couldn't follow the story. What I was focusing on was her smile and I thought it looked very similar to the smile of the woman I saw in the help's quarters in my grandparent’s place more than 20 years ago.