N A Z A R E T H
I did not grow up in a religious family. But I believe that I have a good relationship with God. Papa was busy with work before, so he decided to enroll me and my twin sister, Bethany, in a Sunday school, where his good friend, our Ninang Angel, works.
Ninang Angel taught us that following Jesus would lead to a wonderful life, and my idea of it was having a complete family.
When I was a kid, Mama wasn't able to take care of us for years. Applying what I learned from Ninang Angel, I grew my hair out. In my young mind, following Jesus meant literally copying His looks, which I did, inspired by the painting posted on the wall of our classroom where He looked good with long hair.
I can still remember being upset that I couldn't grow out a beard, and there were some desperate times when I drew it on myself or with the help of Bethany or Ninang Hail.
"Hail, ano na namang ginawa mo sa anak ko? Ginawa mong drag queen!" Papa screamed in horror.
"Oh huwag ka sa aking magalit! Sinakyan ko lang naman ang trip ng junakis mo! Gusto niya raw ng bigote, edi nilagyan ko!" Ninang Hail reasoned.
"Eh bakit mo kinilayan? Ginawa mong baklang maton na sasaksakan ng taray ang anak ko!"
"Ah 'yon! Na-carried away lang ako sa part na 'yon. Peace!" Ninang Hail said apologetically. "Pero aminin! On fleek naman 'di ba! Ganda ng inaanak ko, alam kong ikaw ang magpapatuloy ng henerasyon ng mga ka-federasyon."
"Wiz Ninang. Bet ni atashi maging ka-fez si Jesus." I reasoned. Being raised by gays and with Papa's parlor as our second home, my mother tongue is gay lingo.
Ninang's face contorted with confusion. "Huh, whychi?"
Papa sighed. "Panata niya, ata. Ewan ko kay Angel, baka kung anu-ano ang tinuturo sa anak ko. Kukutungan ko 'yon bukas."
"Papshy, no! Sabi ni Nang Angel, gayahin namin si Jesus kasi love niya tayo. Dahil mahal niya tayo, magiging masaya tayo. Isa na lang naman ang magpapasaya sa akin, eh... sana bumalik na si mamshy."
Papa's facial expression seemed like he saw a ghost when I mentioned Mama but later on it softened and he kissed my forehead.
"Aww, kawawa naman ang inaanak ko!"
Papa gently patted my head. "Kaya pala anabet mong magpagupit ng hairlalu, nak."
I nodded. "Na-sight ko kasi pic ni Jesus, mahaba ang buhok niya tsaka may buhok rin siya sa face."
"Baka kapag nakita mo ang picture Niyang nasa krus, magpapako ka na rin Naza, ah!" Ninang Hail laughed.
"Gaga ka talaga!" Papa shouted at Ninang Hail.
Papa just let me be. He supported my devotion and, together with Ninang Hail, defended me against the school's insistence on getting rid of my waist-length hair at the age of six. I don't know the details of what Papa and Ninang Hail said and did to eventually persuade the school to spare me from their hair code. And based on their personalities and how fearless they are when united, I can only imagine it was an unpleasant, chaotic scene.
However, it wasn't the be-all and end-all. My hair attracted bullies, and being my father's child, I fought back with the aim of inflicting more damage on them than they had on me.
