Upon her death, the traditional rituals took place: no sweeping of the floor, no taking a bath, no wearing of bright colors since it denotes happiness "kuno"; no combing of the hair, blah…blah….
The list went on.
Being twenty and not-so-innocent in the realm of liberal intelligence, I found simple annoyance not satisfying my indifference to such beliefs. I just don''t see the logic behind. And my Mama cocked her brows at my indignation with the subject matter.
Well, why shouldn''t I?
I saw the "mourners" (they were not wearing red shirts): they guffawed like there was no coffin in front of them, playing tung-it and mahjong. My cousin listened to some music in her mp3. My Ate sneaked out to watch her followed teleserye.
Again, why shouldn''t I?
They are the classic models of hypocritical individuals trying to stick to those so-called traditional norms, yet, discreetly breaking them.
I wanted to break free from the rigid cage of superstitions.
"Hey, Manang Jean (my elder sister) took a bath," I argued to my Mama.
"Lahi ang iya''ng tinuhuan. (She''s got a different religion)," my Mama agitatedly replied. I didn''t know if it was because my sis married a guy with different religion or because of my persistence. Maybe both.
"I''ve got a different religion, too," I defended myself. My Mama gave me the look. A thought crossed my mind. Why should I not pick Friedrich Nietzsche (a philosopher who said GOd is dead) to reincarnate just to provoke her?
In the family, I am the rebellious one. Well, blame it on my father''s genes. Ironically, Papa is such a conservative man, I''m not.
I don''t dwell in such beliefs when I don''t see a clear manifestation that, indeed, they are a noble part of our culture, of our tradition.
The opposite was what I saw on my Nanay''s wake.
After that conversation with my Mama, my hair was dripping with water…after a short while.