Chronicling the Awkward Years

When I was a grade school student, afternoons were spent reading and re-reading our textbooks. I usually do an advance reading and end up finishing the whole thing. So when I ran out of things to do, I explore outside the house. I do crazy things like make my own ant terrarium, and study the insects found in my Mom’s rose garden.

 

She (Mom) knew where to look for me when it’s time to eat lunch or if it was time for my nap. I was among the insects, the birds (I owned a green parrot and a peculiar bird they called “bato-bato”.) I enjoyed that rather than running around the backyard with my “kababata” or kids from the neighbors.

 

On some days, I would cross the street and chase away some cruel kids hanging kittens on trees. I tried saving one, that broke its neck. I took it home and placed a splinter (cardboard) to support the broken neck. My uncles and aunts laughed at me saying I am too obsessed on becoming a doctor. They named the injured kitten “kiling” which is a Tagalog word for broken or tilted neck. Since then, it was a ritual for me to take home lost kittens, and found joy in the fact that cats (like humans) have different personalities. I had one that was an albino cat with a blue eye and green eye (heterochromia, named Kitty) and a chubby abandoned striped kitten I called “Buchoy”. I also adopted a quadruplet that resembled Siamese cats but were with black spots on their fur.

 

“Kiling” lived for three more months and died when accidentally the splinter on it’s neck went loose (maybe while it was playing).

I was also fascinated about taking care of birds. However, it was not explained to me then that birds get depressed when they are not in their natural habitat. So they bought me a “Maya” housebird in a small cage but this died eventually, banging its head on the cage. My parrot “Pikoy” was a true joy though. This one I set free occasionally, letting it perch on my shoulder and fed it with “saba” a banana variant. It also was sometimes tied to the “Chesa” tree in front of our “balconahe” or porch. Many envied me for that parrot, it was expensive and my Mom bought it from a pet shop at a mall in Cubao. “Pikoy” went missing one day and I just hoped that whoever took it, took good care of it. It never left my side so I think that something wrong just happened.

 
I am also fond of dogs. I was four when I got my first dog, who was named “Spot” because of course of the spots on its body. She could pass for a fake Dalmatian.  Spot then gave birth to 11 white huge puppies. One by one they either got lost (dog napping was frequent), or given to other neighbors. I cried a lot when Spot died, that they had to bring me to the beach to forget.

 

It was my first heart break.

 

So If I wasn’t with the cats or the dogs, I was “nangungulisap” (a word coined by my Mom, after I told her I wanted to be a scientist as an offshoot of her gift – a book with scientific names of animals and plants.)

 

 

I was this weird kid playing “tumbang preso” and “tanching” with my youngest uncle who was 7 years older than I. Was always one of the boys, because the girls hated me for having more toys, and I hated dolls. My lolo Ogie who was same as my age (don’t ask me how this age similarity happened) is a staunch defender when our neighborhood bully Liezeth would find ways to hurt me (as in physically). One day she even ran over my red jeep with her side car (which rendered a deep dent on the bumper. I was always trusting so it left me vulnerable. One day she even hit me on my head when I was not looking. So Lolo Ogie would run after her and tell me “naiganti na kita”, as soon as he came back.The boys were more friendly than the girls and for some unknown reason it was hard to blend in with them.

 

 

At some point, we will eventually (have to) outgrow things. My Tito Gerry who I used to play with, started warning me that I shouldn’t go with him and his friends when he reached his teens. I didn’t understand then. All I was after was to be with him to climb the trees and also finding out about his plans to gather the “Caimitos” at the backyard. One day, he was always out of the house and I thought well, maybe he had better things to do. Lolo Ogie also of course grew with a different crowd. Whereas I, got enrolled in a private school during my elementary days. My classmates where different from the kids from the neighborhood (more affluent and worldly). It was hard for me to catch up because we were not rich. Being an honor student somehow augmented the lack and kept me in the “A-list” of students. I belonged, sort of. I was in the “IN Group”, we were about four or five girls in class (some were extremely rich, or pretty or both). So these were my friends then, and they would fetch me over the weekend to chat, play monopoly,practice modern jazz and ballet; and they endlessly talk about boy bands, and boys and love letters. Sadly I had a quick falling out because I did not find myself liking all the things they liked, particularly boy bands and boys (love letters having no or little effect on me.)

 

Sort of found comfort in blending in with mainstream, the ordinary, the predictable. Somehow, I also sort of evolved as I reached my teens. My passion for reading got intensified. I got partial to Shakespeare, and had a huge trail of books by many authors like Gabriel Garcia Marquez, F. Sionil Jose among others. I even took to heart some poetry by Longfellow, and Kalidasa (thanks to our English teachers in public high school). As the world opened up a bit more, I found my one true love, which is writing. The pen, my only true friend, and one that lets me be.

 

 

(Note:the book my Mom gave was one that had scientific names of tropical fishes and not the huge types like sharks 🙂 I played with the gumamela plants and was happy to know this as “hibiscus rosa-sinensis”. The leaves were used to make gooey yellow liquid that could pass as play “cooking oil” and the flowers were also used as play vegetables which my sister and I pretended to cook.)