Culture Shock

Chapter Seven

It was a bit of a novel to see colorful Indian silks snaking around Bo Young. This lady never failed to surprise me. The shoes, the silky dark hair and the jewelry. Oh yes, the jewelry that would make every Hermana Penchang's heart melt. It makes sense somehow, that an Indian has landed on this land. At the end of the day, it belongs to Asia.

I grew up with some Indians as neighbors and all of them look gorgeous. Like how their eyes open and let you drool out of envy. Like how their lashes dance and their nose make you hate your genes for not having them. How I wish Clarisse had Indian blood, too. Psh. Impossible. I reckon Philipp and Leopold came from a common ancestor. A western.

The garden wasn't that distant from the tower, so Leonidas did not have the chance of throwing same question over and over. "Are you really staying, my lady?" with wide smiles on his face. I rolled my eyes.

Apparently.

It was a garden surrounded with yellow tulips. Gosh, it was paradise-ish. At the center, there stood a four-pillared gazebo. I was totally in awe. How can it be as magical as this? Of course, I'm not that stupid to realize that every tiny magic trick hides the dirtiest manipulation.

I'll not settle on growing old on a stink-concealing constitution (as if Philippines is not). The only way out is the golden fleet. But how?

A woman was scanning books on the small table under the shed. She was facing the opposite direction, away from us. Her hair was as black as Snow White's and might have reached her waist. How the heck?

"Lady Saree," Leonidas announced. The woman dramatically turned towards our direction, revealing herself. A single eyeglass was hung along her neck and a ruby on her forehead.

Though Saree wasn't showing any expression, she clasped her palms flat together, clapping them on her chest and bent in grace. Bo Young did the same earlier.

"Lady Clare Van," she greeted in a bold tone. Gosh, she's a Professor McGonagall.

"Hi there, Mrs. Saree," I replied. Immediately I realized that Leonidas was again back onto his statue state.

"Shall we begin?"

"Okay." I hustled to the chair and sat fast, crossing my legs. "Ouch!" I exclaimed as I felt the sting which a stick made.

"Holy gods, failed! Failed! Failed! Failed!" Saree began chanting hysterically with her eyeglass swinging as she moved. I scowled and massaged my leg. What the f is wrong with her?

"What was that for?" I asked angrily. She nuts? Yeah, she definitely is.

She waved her stick in the air pointing on my bare legs, my shorts, my shirt and on me. "Incredibly unbelievable! A lady must not expose skin. A lady must walk with according grace. Al lady must speak to a guru with pure intentions and respect."

Oh great. Here comes that rule again making me so sick. "But I..."

"No buts, my lady. We must begin with these..." She tapped the books and handed them to me one by one.

Saree talks incoherently, for frog's sake! All the rules and how the island's children expect my deeds to be is her most task. The day was hell and my mind could not be stopped from muttering for it to be over.

Have you seen the typical princess calvary in which she has to walk straight with a book on her head? So lady-like. Geez. I shall talk with my eyelashes, not with my eyes rolling. Body and hand gestures are being rated, too when a lady converses with a guest.

Saree went in with boxes of jewelries from my closet. Those will be my security, she said. An every-lady-must-have. There were stone in my box, pearls, rubies, emeralds, sapphires and it was lucky to have the woman imparting me how and when to wear them.

I even tried a female Indian garment with Leonidas on the male's. It was alleviating to see him on a way different from his bright red cloth.

"Have you heard about Taj Mahal, Lady Saree?" Her brows furrowed and narrowed her eyes. She clasped her both hand and leaned forward.

"Pardon, my lady?"

"The story of Taj Mahal, the most popular tomb in India," I added.

"In... diya?"

I nodded and said, "Yep, India. The country where I believe your forefather came from." Her eyes glowed and I knew that very moment that she was filled with mere eagerness to hear what I had to share.

My history teacher said that India has the oldest civilization and the center of culture in Asia. It is identified as the birthplace of Hinduism and Buddhism. Before, I thought all Indians converse in Hindi but my teacher said that they have various languages and Hindi does not carry the largest percentage in terms of usage.

Taj Mahal in Mumtaz Mahal's tomb, Shah Jahan;s third wife. The Mughal emperor built this to honor the wife and guess what? Upon completion, he got all the architects and artists of the tomb killed to preserve the secrecy of the blueprint and plan.

She might have let me lose my voice for the stories but I was too lazy on recalling Indian epics and gods. Neon and I rarely talked about them 'cause we were more of movie freaks.

The woman called it a day upon turning into a witch when I could not classify the forks and spoons on a table. How should I know? Well, it was nice to see a beautiful manticore, anyway. Saree looked very funny.

Hours before dinner, the soldiers played sword. I wasn't actually permitted to be seen in Swordsquare, but because I am dead stubborn, I made Leonidas take me there.

The players swing well and it fascinated the heck out of me to witness an actual combat. "Why not join, Leonidas?" His gaze turned to me and shook his head.

"I can't, my lady," he replied.

I arched a brow. "Why not?" Too bad I can't see him fight. King Leonidas was known to be a great fighter and a leader. How I wish this Leonidas is, too.

"Because you are here and I must not leave your side." He paused. "I learn at night, my lady."

We were silent for a moment while the clinks of the swords fill the emptiness. If Neon was here, he'll find this very pleasing.

"Leonidas?"

"My lady?"

I pushed my lips together. "Clare, please." I chuckled. "I'm so gonna throw up with that thing. Just Clare when we're alone. Game?"

He laughed and nodded his head. "Alright, my... alright, Clare. Only when we are alone."

"By the way, can you do me another favor? But if you're not allowed to, then it's okay." Gosh. I've been dying to spill this; just waiting for the perfect pull-off.

"An honor, my lady." I scowled. "Forgive me. It would be my pleasure, Clare." He chortled.

"Cool. Umm... I've been thinking if um... you can um.... um... put on shirt (forced laughter)? 'Cause y'know, (whisper) I kinda don't tolerate body exhibition (forced laughter).

Phew.

He burst out laughing. That was a relief. "Holy gods, Clare. That I can no longer guarantee, I'm afraid."

I beamed as a sign of acceptance. "That's fine," I murmured. "So, you have red cloth instead of maroon, eh? You're from the phalanx?"

His eyes widened as if totally surprised. "You are acquainted with phalanx?"

I rolled my eyes and made face. Hello? Who the heck isn't?

"Yeah? Red are for the higher ranked, while maroons are for soldiers. But no offense, buddy. I'm just a bit confused with your horses and chariots. You're not supposed to be a knight if you're a Spartan; means no chivalry. Why do you have?"

"It is no longer just us, Clare. The norms and traditions have fused for the best watch. In case of any attack, we'll have no defeat."

That made sense. Spartans were best in battle but they did not have stallions. A knight and a Spartan on same man make up the utmost unit.

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