CHAPTER 1: Ang Balik Bayan (The Home Comer)
It was twelve in the afternoon and the scourging sun melted through the tinted window of the military green van that my cousin owned as I woke up to the unsteady road. Annoyed, I took off the sunglasses perched on my nose and wiped the bit of moist under my eyes.
"Asan na tayo?" (Where are we?) I complained groggily in my slang tagalog to my mother. It was all for nothing, of course. She was deep asleep. I looked around, and saw that we were in a rural province, somewhere in Laguna, so I've heard through the adults' conversation a few weeks back. We came to the Philippines for a short vacation, and upon my mom's insistence, I came with her.
I can't say that I'm full fledged Filipino, although my parents both are. I was born in the Philippines, but we went abroad with me being at such a young age. I can't even remember any of the old places we used to live in. We were going to Laguna because my father had a sister there. My cousin, not the one driving, the daughter of my dad's sister knew and befriended the owner of the private resort where we were supposed to stay in. It was cheap, so yeah, you should know how this part goes.
I see the skinny provincial children playing across the crooked road. I could name some of the games: tumbang preso, Chinese garter, luksung tinik. They stopped whenever a car passes by, just like ours, some even chased on us. I looked back and smiled as they did. That was what's wonderful in a rural life, I thought, it was simple, carefree, no worries, compared to the urban life in the city, like New York where I stayed with my mom. Actually it was New York-Brooklyn. I was being tossed around like shuttle cock between my parents. They were divorced. I guess I could blame the pressures of moving to America for their unsightly divorce, but I couldn't stop that nagging feeling behind my head that I was at fault too.
"Oh gising ka na pala, Cha!" (Oh! You're awake, Cha!) Kuya EJ cut off my thoughts. I smiled at him and yawned and stretched. "Malapit na tayo," (We're almost there) he continued, happily peering into the rear-view mirror. He's this chubby, cool guy, a little older than me, 24, I think. He's my dad's nephew who they asked to be our driver slash tour guide while we were here.
"Talaga? Asan na ba tayo?" (Really? Where are we anyway?) I replied a little too enthusiatically, still in my slang tagalog.
"Aba gumagaling ka na magtagalog ah!" (Wow! You're getting better huh!) He teased, his eyes smiling too, "Ahhh ... Barrio Asuncion ..." He continued as we drove by the rusted sign in declaring the entrance of the village. The road was dry and some of the road dust puffed through the window. A lot of nipa huts hung along the long dust-ridden road, some people hung around the front porch staring at our green van. Cars probably seldom passed by, so a lot of the siesta people stared.
We finally came to the road with a lot of trees; I preferred this one versus the dusty, crooked, province road, of course. I breathe in the fresh air, it was a little colder now than it was from the last barrio. I heard the tiny rush of the river nearby and squinted at the sight of a little girl playing by the water.
"Oh yeah! Andito na!" (Oh yeah! We're here!) Kuya EJ declared, exuberantly, as he parked the car in front of the concrete cream colored wall of the private resort. I giggled at him and turned to back at the little girl, but she was gone. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused, could I have been seeing things?
Everyone stretched after they got out of the cramped van. It was a long five hour drive from my aunt's house to here. Besides Kuya EJ, we were with my mother's brother and his family. Uncle Jovert, along with his wife, Auntie Karen, his two kids, Maika, 15, and Miko, 6, and their yaya (house maid), Ate Joy. They booked off the whole week to come with us to Laguna. Uncle was a hot shot business man in Manila, which was why Auntie didn't have to get her hands dirty, but she still did. She worked as an administrative assistant somewhere in Makati. She wanted her own money to spend; at least that's what she said. That left their two children with Ate Joy. She was kind, and hard working. She told me she had a lot of siblings back in her province, and her dream was to be able to send them to school. She had six , so that'll take quite a while, but it wasn't impossible. In the mean time, she took good care of Miko.
