Past In The Spotlight (SUNSET TRILOGY #1)

Chapter 12

[Capítulo Dose: Bagong Kaibigan (A New Friend)]

“Sorry?” Clara asked. “Iyon ba ay mayroong masamang ibig sabihin (Does that have a negative connotation)?” The exchange revealed a delicate dance of cultural nuances, as Clara sought to understand the depth of Marianne's apology, their interaction a subtle exploration of meaning beyond mere words.

“Diyos ko (Oh my goodness)! Kahit sorry, hindi alam ng mga taong ito (Even with apologies, these people don’t know),” I heard Marianne gasped. “Siguro napakalayo na talaga namin sa lungsod. Mukhang hindi talaga kami agad-agad makakabalik kay Dad (Maybe we’re really far from the city. It seems like we won’t be able to return to Dad right away).” The realization of the cultural gap echoed in Marianne's exclamation, hinting at the distance – both physical and metaphorical – between her world and the unfamiliar territory where understanding became a bridge yet to be built.

“Iyon ba ang ibig sabihin ng salitang iyon (Is that what that word means)?” Clara asked. The question hung in the air, revealing Clara's genuine curiosity and a willingness to bridge the gap in understanding, as they navigated the intricacies of language and culture.

“Ang rami kong kailangang turuan dito (I have a lot of students to teach here)! May Koreanong hilaw na ngang iba-iba ang lengguwahe pero hindi nagsasalita ng Filipino mayroon pang mga tao sa paligid kong hindi marunong mag-English (There’s a Korean nerd already that knows a lot of languages but not Filipino, there’s also a lot of people around me that doesn’t know how to speak English)!” Marianne continued. Frustration colored her words, portraying the challenges she faced in a diverse environment where languages intermingled, highlighting the complexity of communication in their shared space.

“Are you doing a dramatic scene or something?” I asked as I quickly approached the two. The abrupt interruption injected a touch of humor into the tense atmosphere, momentarily breaking the seriousness of the situation.

“Anyways,” she spoke, interrupting me. “Ang ibig sabihin po ng ‘Sorry’ ay ‘Paumanhin’ sa Tagalog (The meaning of ‘Sorry’ is ‘Paumanhin’ in Tagalog).” The interruption carried a hint of amusement, as Marianne smoothly transitioned into providing a linguistic clarification, attempting to bridge the understanding gap with a touch of humor.

“Ahh… Ganoon pala iyon (I see),” Clara replied, nodding her head. The nod indicated a newfound understanding, a subtle connection formed through the exchange of cultural insights.

“Tsaka ako po pala si Marianne de Guzman ng Makati. Dalawampu’t tatlong taong gulang na po ako (And I am Marianne de Guzman from Makati. I am already twenty-three years old),” Marianne added, extending her hand towards Clara.

“Ano iyan (What’s that)?” Clara spoke, confusion evident in her expression as she regarded Marianne’s outstretched hand, the unfamiliar gesture creating a momentary pause in their interaction.

Marianne sighed, took Clara’s right hand, and shook it with her hand. “O ayan po dalawa na ang natutunan niyo sa akin ngayon (There you go, you’ve learned two things about me now).”

“Napakagalang mo pala, Binibini. Kahit na mas matanda ka sa akin ng isang taon ay gumagamit ka na ng Po at Opo sa pakikipag-usap (You’re very polite, Miss. Even though you’re just a year older than me, you already use “Po” and “Opo” in conversation),” said Clara. The physical gesture of the handshake and the exchange of words illustrated a tangible step in their cultural exchange, revealing Marianne's efforts and Clara's astute observations in this unfolding journey of understanding.

“Ano (What)? Ako naman pala ang Ate mo, e! Po pa ako ng (I'm actually your older sister! I still use "Po")…” she groaned once more but suddenly halted when she faced the silenced Clara. “Sorry. Di na mauulit. Masanay ka na sa akin kasi masayahin lang talaga ako (It won’t happen again. Get used to me because I’m just really cheerful).” The abrupt change from frustration to a lighthearted apology, accompanied by Marianne's playful tone, painted a vivid picture of her spirited personality and the evolving dynamic between them.

“Kung iyon ang iyong nais na ipahiwatig ay sige (If that’s what you want to convey, then okay),” Clara replied with a bit of unconvinced tone in her voice. Clara's response hinted at a lingering skepticism, suggesting that while she acknowledged Marianne's words, there was still a layer of uncertainty in their burgeoning interaction.

“At saka salamat sa pagpapatuloy sa amin sa bahay niyo. Pati na rin pala sa pag-aalaga sa amin (And thank you for accommodating us in your house. Also, for taking care of us),” Marianne added.

“Walang anuman (You’re welcome),” Clara replied.

“Siguro kilala mo na rin itong lalaking ito (Perhaps you already know this man)?” Marianne’s face turned to me once again. The question hung in the air, inviting Clara to acknowledge my presence and perhaps shed light on the connections forming between them.

“Nakilala ko na si Joaquin kahapon (I met Joaquin yesterday),” Clara replied.

“Hindi bagay sa kaniya ang pangalan niya (His name doesn’t suit him),” I heard Marianne whisper to herself. The hushed comment unveiled a glimpse of Marianne's contemplation, leaving an air of intrigue about the disparity she perceived between me and my new name.

“Ngayong ayos na ang lahat, nais niyo bang mamitas ng mga bunga ng mangga upang maging pagkain natin dito (Now that everything is settled, would you like to pick some mangoes for our meal here)?” Clara asked.

“Mangga? Masarap yun! Sige, game ako (Mangoes? That sounds delicious! Sure, I’m in)!” Marianne's enthusiastic response radiated with openness, illustrating her willingness to embrace new experiences, adding a lively energy to the unfolding moment.

“Ikaw, Joaquin (You, Joaquin)?” said Clara. “¿Te gustaría unirte a nosotros en la recolección de mango (Would you like to join us in picking mangoes)?”

For the first time, from the day we came, I felt emptiness inside my brain. The well of my Spanish translations ran dry, weariness settling in. Each word felt like a heavy burden, and the mental exhaustion became palpable in the quiet struggle to articulate the next thought.

“Joaquin?” she repeated.

“Sige na nga, ako na ang magta-translate. Kahit ako naman ay malilito sa sinabi mo (Okay, I'll be the one to translate. Even I might get confused with what you said),” said Marianne. “Jo– I mean… Joaquin, would you like to join us in picking mangos?”

The emptiness and anxiety slowly consumed me. With each struggle to translate Spanish, the fear of losing understanding gnawed at my thoughts. Yesterday, the desire to stay lingered, but now, second thoughts crept in.

What if I couldn’t grasp Spanish or any of their words anymore? What if that could be the reason why I die here?