Everything is new to him. He had heard his dad talk about his hometown in Bataan province but this is not what he had expected. He is peeved that he cannot connect his computer to the Internet because his grandmother does not have a phone line. He can’t wait for his Uncle Rudy to arrive from Manila to bring him a SIM card for his cell phone so he can call his friends in San Francisco.
He wonders if life in the city would be better. He agreed to study in Manila because he wanted to be in the Philippines with his dad. He looks at Stella, the neighbor’s daughter, who catches his glance. She smiles coyly.
"She’s so pretty," he thinks to himself.
Kumusta na po kayo? Did you get the medicine, vitamins and clothes I sent? Sana naman hindi na-pilfer ng mga mail inspectors diyan. Wala namang masyadong value ang mga pinadala kong yan. I hope the pills would help alleviate the pain of your arthritis a bit.
I got the letter of Kuya Rudy. Tell him to go ahead with his plan to sell the manggahan. I am sure we all could use the money. Michael will be going to college soon and his chosen course, Medicine, is expensive. Was Kuya Rudy able to get Ate Joy’s go signal? Did Ate Ming really leave her husband, Kuya Nanding? Why don’t you tell her to visit Ate Joy in Dumaguete? She might find some clarity and solutions to her problems while away from there. She’s much too close to the problem – how can she find the solution?
My son, Michael, and I will be arriving on the third of next month. Tell Kuya Rudy not to bother picking us up at the airport. There’s so much frenzy and confusion there. It would be more convenient for all if we took a taxi to the bus terminal and caught one of those new air-conditioned buses home. We’ll just have a nice party when we get there, okay? How is my favorite niece, Marissa? Tell her I have a nice pasalubong for her.
When I left the Philippines, I was looking for something – I didn’t know what. When I got to San Francisco and later met Jinky, I thought I found what my heart had been pining for. But now, life for me is even hazier than San Francisco’s thickest fog. I still don’t know what I am looking for but I am already tired of searching. The city lights, the busy streets, the theaters, even the art galleries have all lost their luster.
Remember how I gushed over the Metropolitan Museum when I visited New York and how ecstatic I was over the Louvre when we went to Paris? Now, all places look alike to me; everything seems dull and dreary. I don’t hear the music I used to prance to on the streets anymore. The skyscrapers no longer appeal to me. Life here is totally pointless and empty.
I have learned that no matter what I do and no matter how hard I try, I don’t belong in this place. Everything here is made of steel, concrete, aluminum, glass or plastic – materials that are cold to the spirit. My soul is not where it should be. I want to go back to real land again. Something in me longs to touch and caress the earth once more – the life-giving soil of Pinas. How I miss the old tilapiahan! How is it? Is it still OK?
When Itay died, I felt so bad that I couldn’t go home. That was when I got laid off from my job during the peak of the recession. Then Jinky and I separated because of all the tension and our stupid irreconcilable differences. It was a rough time for me. The kids especially had a tough time but have coped rather well. Michael has just graduated from high school and Kate will be a sophomore this coming school year. Michael is so excited to go home with me and is looking forward to studying in Manila. Kate will stay with Jinky and promises to e-mail or call me often.
The funny thing, Nay, is that I don’t remember ever looking at Itay’s eyes. Every time I faced him, I was scared to focus and really look. He had such a domineering presence that made me very fearful inside. He was always very distant and cold. Weird, Nay...pero he was there but was not there. Do you know what I mean? Did you ever feel his coldness, too, Nay? I dream of him often but never see his face in my dreams.
Miss ko na ang mga yakap nyo, Nay. And those wonderful, original melodies you used to hum! I guess you sang your tunes to ease your boredom or lull yourself to the acceptance of your little lot in life. You have given so much to us, Nay. You are a true angel of generosity! You were always thinking of us, planning for us, toiling for us. I often wonder if you had any real life of your own.
What happened to that Lolit – the girlfriend of Itay? Is she still after the land titles? When I come home, I shall talk to her and make her realize where she really belongs. We are not even sure if that son of hers is really Itay’s. Marunong ba silang mag-DNA test diyan sa Pinas? I have some friends at the PGH; I am sure they can help. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it once and for all when I get there.
Uuwi na ako, Nay. Pagod na ako. Nakakasawa na. Wala naman akong katuturan dito. Maski ano ang gawin ko dito, fourth-rate citizen pa rin ako. Di na ako happy, Nay. Magtatanim na lang tayo diyan ng gulay at bayabas, at mag-aalaga ng tilapia. Siguro sasaya na ako sa wakas.
Is my favorite papag still there? I can’t wait to feel the Bataan wind on my face and breathe in its energizing freshness. And I long for you to hum me your comforting songs once again.
I thank God there is Pilipinas or else, where would I go home? I’m coming back, Nay. For good. Even for worse.
Laging nagmamahal,
Jun
"Ano ba ang sabi ng doktor?" Ming asks.
"Heart failure daw. Kadarating lang pa naman nila nung isang araw," replies Nanay Mareng as she holds back her tears. She looks for Michael and signals him to come.
Michael walks towards them. Nanay introduces the couple to the young man. "This is your Tita Ming and that is your Tito Nanding."
He takes each of their hands and touches it to his forehead, a traditional Filipino gesture of respect for elders.
"I remember," Michael discloses, "I was 10 when you visited San Francisco."
Nana Martha, Stella’s mother, rushes to Nanay Mareng and whispers that Michael has an overseas call at her house.
"You have a phone call at the other house," Nanay Mareng tells Michael. "It’s your mom."
The two old women accompany him next door. Michael takes the phone and asks, "Yeah, Ma?"
Jinky answers, "Tell Nanay Mareng that I can’t come. I have so much work in the office and Kate will be enrolling next week. I am really..." Without a word, Michael puts down the phone.
Nanay Mareng remembers Jun as a little child in her arms. She hums the lullaby she used to sing him. Michael hears the faint, familiar melody.
"That’s the song Dad used to hum me," he remembers.