Thursday, September 19, 2002

Let me tell you something about my mother, she’s a vegetable vendor in a street at Dapitan. And although I spent at least ten years of my life on a dilapidated second floor apartment of that street, I really never had the chance to mingle with the other vendors, nor play on the street with kids my age. Mainly because (1) my father said that he’s not paying for my education so that I will become a vendor in the future (2) my parents were snobbish and ambitious enough to think that I was too good to be associated with any of them.

So, you could imagine my fascination when I walked on the same street of my childhood and saw for the first time all the improvements. At the very beginning of the street was a scale in a white contraption. It was marked with “Timbangan ng bayan”.

All the stalls were properly aligned. So are the awnings over their head.

Whereas before, stalls had no boundaries, and the awnings are more of hazard than protection.

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I never knew this. A bunch of ragamuffins came walking around the street asking some plastic from the vegetable vendors. They would then proceed to the fish vendors and beg for something.

I expected that the tindera would give a small fish to the children. Instead, she took a huge milkfish with screaming red eyes, maybe weighing a kilo or more, and gave all three kids a piece.

And then, the kids went to another stall, and then the vendors would add more fish in their plastic bag. By the time they’re through I bet it weighed more than the contents of their schoolbags, if ever they go to school.

I saw a lot of buyers looking on, as if it was some spectacle. They were probably thinking that they paid at least 250 bucks for their meal, while the kids got it for free.

Later, I asked my mom about those kids. She said that the kids are regular beggars who come every night to ask for some rotten fishes. She said it was good because the kids are actually relieving the vendors the burden of disposing the rotten fishes.

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As we were going out of the street, there was a gay who sells peanuts and have the nicest pair of boobs I ever laid eyes on. My mom bought some cornick for herself and green peas for me.

I was horrified when she started pinching the boobs of that gay. I stared shocked, waiting for some indignant reaction from the vendor, but she/he continued filling the brown bag with cornick as if nothing unusual is happening.

But when my mom tried to scope the nipples out of her blouse, I pinched my mom in the waist and smiled apologetically to her/him.

”ikaw naman, (referring to my mom) baka isipin ng mga lalake diyan, pokpok ako!” was all she said.

My mom later told me that she’s a suki, and the daughter/son of so and so, who used to sell so and so. And that she worked hard in Japan for years to afford those boobs.

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And lastly, when we passed a carinderia on our way to Maceda, my mom asked me to ask blessings from an old woman with an overly done face. When I have done so, the old woman pulled me towards her, and kissed me on my cheeks. I felt warm all over…

My mom told me that she’s a kumare of my lola.

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Why do I even bother going to other places when the most interesting people in the world are right under my nose?

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Tantanan mo muna ako pwede ba?

Gusto ko lang magpahinga…

Di ko na talaga kaya ang madisappoint sa iyo…

Sumasakit lang ang dibdib ko, kahit wala akong breast cancer

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Thursday, September 19, 2002

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