i was 7 years old, when my mother got pregnant with the last child, it’s a boy. we took turns of feeding him… being the youngest among the 3 brats, my elder brother and sister forced me to this boring job.. but for a creative girl like me, i never ran out of ideas to make myself happy, while feeding my baby brother, my other hand was holding another bottle, full of coca-cola. 

when the coke was finished and no money to buy it, i tried coffee… i didn’t like the taste and i almost puke… (once i thought the coffee grain was like milo, so i took a spoonful and put it on my mouth… it’s up to your imagination what happened next)

whenever the 2 brats asked me again to do my feeding job, or to substitute them, i’ll asked money from them and buy a coca-cola. my elder sister saw me sucking the bottle full of coca-cola. instead of scolding me, she took another bottle and fill it with coffe with milk and joined us. so there’re three of us drinking from my baby brother’s feeding bottle. (it remained a secret, without the knowledge of my mother)

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my mothers’ bewilderment the baby milk formula never lasted as it should be… of course, i took some and mixed it with sugar, it tasted nice to me…

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when my mother knew, she bought me condensed milk, i don’t drink milk, instead i sip right through the hole of the can and drink slowly, tasting it over my tongue, and after that i drink 1 glass of water and gargle, to wash-off the sticky liquid inside my mouth.

we grew up in the city, so when we visited grandmother’s (mother side) hometown in Pulilan, Bulacan we brought with us unripe banana, freshly chopped from its plant. my late father hanged it on the wall, positioned after the bed. i didn’t know that i’ve the same thoughts with my brother and sister. i’ll go to the room, lie on the bed, and keep staring at the banana. wondering if the yellow hint indicates its ripeness.

each day, one banana after the other was turning yellow. thinking it’s already ripe, plucking it and voraciouly eat it. of course, it wasn’t totally ripe at all. but was forced to finish it. so, i told myself to be patient, scanning the other fruit that would be ripe in few days, i counted how many days of waiting and sighed.

the next day, like a landowner inspecting his fruits, laid on the bed, and looked with joy. to my dismay, my waiting was in vain, my fruits were missing, the ones left were still green. so frustrated and angry, i rushed out from the room and yelled at my mother. ‘who ate my fruit?’, sobbing and shrieking at the same time. my father who was there, called all of us and so calmly asked, ‘how many did you eat?’, he asked my brother and the silent answer showed from the raised finger in ‘peace sign’. my father’s eyes turned to my sister, and her answer, was three, and the last, he looked at me, and i said, “five”. ‘did you know that the three of you have to wait until it ripens, so we can eat altogether’. we were in full silent, trying to look regretful, but my father laughed so hard that it became impossible to feel sorry. he was laughing because he knew that we’re not used to waiting, fruits bought in the city are readily available to eat, and the 3 of us were voracious eaters.

so, as solution, my mother always buy ripe mango, lanzones and other fruits in big baskets just to satisfy our hunger. and we’ll eat altogether after dinner or siesta time.

a family disaster happened when my mother left home because she’s fed up with my late father’s womanizing… (don’t worry, i’ve forgiven him and loved him so dearly)

we had to do our own washing and ironing specially our school uniforms, i was 11 at that time. it’s not a problem…

my father had to stock the refrigerator with ready-to-fry food, so we won’t starve.

but the problem was, the pile of dirty plates… no one wants to wash the dishes… and we took turns.

after a month or so, we complained to our father, to fetch our mother in her sister’s house. we’re all crying. we missed our mother, we’re so miserable and fighting with each other because of the household chores…

probably my father missed mom too, because my mother prepared all his clothing, when he came out from the bathroom, set of clothes were already on hand including the socks that matched his pants.

when my mother was in the house again, they never slept together again, that left me sleeping with my dad. and my mother shared the bed with my brothers and sister. we’re such a close-knit family.  even my sister and i were asked to move to our own room, we kept on sleeping back again with the other children and with my mom.

i liked my sister but the 4 year age gap between us, never made me closer to her even more, seeing her liking the funny stuff such as manicure and pedicure, it’s gross to me. 

i liked my neighbor much better, they’re all females in the family, I occasionally visit their house, unlike my sister, this girl listens to my stories. my friend is 6 years older than me (i was 8 years old).  when a guy began courting her, i usually sat with them, they never felt uneasy with me.  and i became the chaperon for my friend so the guy was permitted to talk with her.  i knew something was wrong, because they’re not talking, but always looking to each other. 

from one house to another, when i saw young couples mingling with each other, i would be there… just looking, holding the girl’s hand or sitting on her lap… sometimes, the guy would give me a candy…., and it’s a sign to back-off… i would leave them for a while, after sometime, going back again. i don’t know why i was attracted to them, i was such an observant little lass.

it became a habit of mine, i knew where to go when i want a candy… often times, i would even asked my friend  of her boyfriend’s visiting schedule, just to make sure, i wouldn’t miss the present. 

but they liked me, I was the chaperon, and the girl’s parents favored my presence too… they felt a guardian nearby, knowing that i would say something when they’re behaving unlikely.

i was a spoiled child, when i wanted something, i would never cease crying until my parents promised to buy it for me…

finally, they found a remedy to stop me from crying…

once, seated by the window, crying so hard and so annoyingly, my brother told me to stop or else, the ghost would appear and take me…

my mouth was still suspended wide open, staring at my brother, the howling became a silent sob…

that explained why i became a cowardice and afraid of the dark, they threaten me with stories of ghostly figures to prevent me from causing trouble.

but it left them with another burden, they’ve to fetch me wherever i was after six pm, and had to carry me to their backs.  

today, so difficult for me to cry, when i feel sad, only a teardrop would run down my face. 

my grandmother gave me a half watermelon (it’s enormous) to bring home. marching my way, holding the watermelon on my hand, my thoughts were full of it, so excited, imagining myself eating the juicy watermelon, it’s too tempting. and sharing it with my family would lessen the satisfaction.

my pace suddenly stopped and turned to another path straight to the river, found the right spot, sat and stared at the watermelon… without second thought, i devoured it like a hungy wolf… after finishing almost half of it, and i couldn’t eat more. conscious of what i did, i felt a pang of guilt, poor watermelon, i could never bring it back with me, so i threw it on the river… and walked home peacfully…

when my brother saw me, he was angry, why i was so dirty, my face was so red with watermelon juice and so was my t-shirt… i simply said, grandma gave me large portion of watermelon and so hungry i ate it so fast…

the secret became a secret, nobody knew what i did….

but my late father deeply knows that i’ve the penchant of eating and not sharing… he would always tell me, ”you know what, when you eat alone, and your food is poisoned, you’ll die alone and lonely.”, instantly, i would page my sister and my brother, divide my chocolate and gave them each portion larger than mine, and i would tell my baby brother, “don’t ever dare try askin, it’s for orgres only.”

when i was a child (maybe 9 years old), my elder sister of 4 years above my age was lying on the bed, i saw my mother placing a bottle filled with hot water on her abdomen. i thought she’s sick, so i asked what’s happening to her… my mother instructed me to go out of the room, but before leaving, my mother said, “you’re sister isn’t sick”, just to relieve myself from worrying. Out of curiosity, standing-by next door, I heard them talking.  I didn’t know what it meant, all I knew it’s a big news, so  hurried to the street and shouting…”my sister has her first menstruation!!!!”

the eldest brother heard me, and called me back home, i was scared by his angry looks, “what have i done wrong???” so innocently asking myself… upon entering the door, he immediately gave me knock on my head… “why did you do that?”, “i did what???” retort back to him… but i was already crying because the “knock” on the head, really knocked me down.

he said, it’s humiliating what i did, letting other people know about my sister’s first menstrual experience?

So, i still couldn’t connect because i didn’t really understand the experience… until i had my first period… i’ve to keep it a secret until they found out the disposable napkin.. of all people, my eldest brother like an animal tracker discovered the hidden truth… of course, he got mad, because it’s so filthy…i was afraid to throw it in the garbage bin, thinking they would ask and no one was having their period. so i hid it somewhere where i forgot it myself.

however, there’s a culture in bali… the boy or girl passing their puberty period, noticing the adam’s apple appearing on the boy’s neck and the girl with her first period, will have a proper ceremony to officially welcome them on their adulthood phase.

perhaps, my soul knows that it’s not an embarrassment to let people learn about the young adults undergoing physical development but a jubilation since another stage on young’s life is about to begin.

i’m really estranged… my soul has a culture of its own… and living in another wold…

hehehehe! well, that’s life… full of mysteries…

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