20

The City

We all relieved ourselves and are back in the bus again. So away we

I felt sorry for Mrs. Santos when she had to get off the bus back

truck was painfully difficult. It was so hard--it took four people to help

her get off the bus so she could go relieve herself it was pitiful. I hope

it to where they’re headed because she’s so frail. I suppose

carretilla so she’ll be able to ride to her

sisters’ place. That’s probably how they’ll go to her sister's house since

Anyway, it will be another two hours before we even reach

Pangasinan.

in the corner. We put her there so she can lean against the wall of the

bus. The people we asked to trade with her were kind enough to give up

center bench with nothing to lean against. We’re all sitting up straight

as it is.

I hope

she’ll meet new friends so she’s not lonely where she’ll be living. For

Perhaps. 1 do hope so.

Well, I just saw my girlfriend get off the bus to go to her aunt’s

house. Now that the

There are three other girls Milagrosa is also taking down there, but
their own, too. I see they’re not talking much.

Maybe they’re scared or something.

I’ll be with is nice. I’m trying not to think about how difficult it is to

come this far without knowing anyone--just have to cross each bridge as

comes.

I hope I’ll be able to earn my own way in Life out there. It will be a

I’m here today and that I have seen His provision, so I’ll keep trusting

Him for what He’ll bring my way. I wonder how difficult it was for my

144

alone. She wasn’t much older than I am. I’ll just have to relax and see

what happens.

Right now I remember a day long ago before she adopted me. Mom

was about to go plow afield and was preparing to leave me with one of

the other families. When I asked if I might go along to watch her, she

just said, “Well, that could be worked out.” Then she gathered the

pottery pieces she’d created for me and placed them in the cart. After I

asked if I might come, she didn’t say, “No.” She just took me with her.

When we reached the edge of the field she would work, she laid a

coconut leaf mat on the ground She made sure I was safe in the shade

by bending some tall grass over me and tying them together. Then she

placed leaves over those and laid another mat on top. While she plowed
the field, I sat watching. Little did I realize that it took more work for

her to bring me along rather than if I’d stayed behind to play with the

other children.

But we had half a day out there in the field together. She worked

while I watched. Of course the plowing must be done to prepare for

planting. Most of the villagers had to get out there and plow. As I

recall, even during peacetime, machines only came to thresh the rice.

We just didn’t have machines to plow. Perhaps other countries have

them, but here it must be done manually. The animals pull the plows

while people guide them.

So that was a nice day--watching her do that. I guess someone

could say it was how I got to know her some. I observed important tasks

she had to do since I’d probably be doing the same if I stayed on the

farm long enough.

Mom always tried to do her part alongside the others working for

her. She would not only give orders and ensure things were done right,

but she worked as one of them--no different. She was out there in the

midst of them.

I think I did want to learn to plow. That’s the kind of life we have

out in the country. We must earn our living by maintaining the

plantation or something along that line of work. So naturally, I think I

would have wanted to do all that when I became old enough.

I really do cherish all I’ve seen my mother do and all she passed on

to me. Learning the basics of living and how to survive in the wild if

necessary. If I hadn’t absorbed all that from her, I probably wouldn’t

have survived after she was gone. It’s all very precious to me.

Thinking back on my biological mother--I cherish her also. Had she

not been so overwhelmed by what she faced as a young girl, I know she

would have love in her heart for me today. Because of what she went

through, she just couldn’t see me as sharing any part of her life.

145

If there was the remote possibility in her private thoughts, she most

likely tried to ignore it because of all her pain.

I can feel sorry for my real mother because I know some things

women must experience in life aren’t pleasant. Things that occasionally

come our way. She went through some of that. And regardless of what

foolishness was in my parents’ hearts at the time, I can almost feel her

pain now. I understand more now of what young women and men get

into. Then they’re often unable to handle the responsibility

emotionally, let alone physically.

At least my parents weren’t able to do so. My father was a lot older

than she, but his mind was set on something else. Generally, I can
sympathize with what they both went through. 1 just don’t know whether

they believed in God in their hearts. I sure pray to see them both one

day. Although there's no assurance of coming across my mother in this

life.

I can even appreciate my uncle and his family who sheltered me

there in Balatunang for a while. I cherish all they did to care for me in

my early years.

Most of all, I thank God for the woman who took me into her home

and adopted me. Because of all she taught me and the way she took

care of me, I can’t help being grateful every day. Every moment of my

life. Without the good examples shown me, I wouldn’t have been able to

survive the way I have. I thank God for each person who took part in

my life. Each one who showed interest in me and contributed their time

and love will always be cherished

I pray that somewhere, somehow, I can pass those qualities of

character on to someone else before I leave this world. The very

thought of how much time and love goes into caring for someone

overwhelms me at times.

Although I didn’t receive the education most other young people

get, the training I received is more important for many reasons. It’s

helped me become a good citizen and do things more important in life

than a formal education may bring. 1 know academic education is

significant, but what I received is something many people lack. I’m so

grateful for what I came to know which I might never have acquired

anywhere else.

I came to know that my parents loved me and truly cared. Some

young people don’t have the privilege to observe and know their

parents’ love that way. But I did 1 learned how much time and love my

adopted mother had for me. That kind of education--no one can

replace. It’s the life we ought to know so as to be able to convey to

others as they come along.

146

I pray that whatever I leave in this world of my behavior and

conduct as a citizen would be pleasing to God. He's my guide and

teacher all through life besides the parents He gave to watch over me.

I’m thankful to Him for all He’s done in my life and what I might

contribute to society.

Anyway, I’m about to turn another page in life. At least it’s before

me. And I pray this step I take is one in which God has directed me. I

hope this city I come to will be what it should be. I don’t want to be

misled into something that isn’t right. If I ever find out its not the place

for me, then I’ll try returning to the Isabela province. I’ll try to make
my life back there where I’m from.

We each try to relax on this bus, but I keep thinking about many

things. My friend is back in Pangasinan, and I’m on my way to Manila.

Much is on my mind. What will I be doing? What kind of place will I

be at? Will I be able to earn my living, or is it a place where I’ll just do

whatever comes my way?

Once I’m established, I hope I can really find myself and the

occupation I’d like to be involved with or at least one to keep me going.

I don’t know much else besides doing housework. I hear some people

need help like that, so I guess its what I’ll be doing. I’m so curious

about what family I’ll be with.

It won’t be long now to the big city.

>

It’s evening, and we’ve finally arrived in Manila. We step off the

bus and flag one of the carretillas to take us to the house of Milagrosa’s

friend. It’s about a mile from this bus station.

Milagrosa says she’ll visit the family tomorrow that I’ll be staying

with. There are four of us girls in all, and she’ll have to take each of us

separately to where we’ll be living. But she plans to speak first with the

family I’ll go to.

In the meantime, we all will stay at her friend’s. That’s going to be

something new since none of us speak Tagalog. This is the plan for now

until tomorrow.

When we get to the house, it’s the first for me to use an indoor

bathroom. I don’t know what to do with the waste after it's passed. So

I’m asking Milagrosa what to do.

She says to pull on the string hanging above my head when I get up

from the toilet. This will do the job.

Well, I use the facility, but once I pull the string, to me the toilet’s

pipe appears to connect to the fresh water pipe. I think, Oh! boy, for

147

sure I’ve ruined the whole place--I’ve flushed waste into the drinking

When I tell the others what I’ve done, they all have a good laugh

and let me know the bathroom isn’t built that way. Waste matter goes

another.

country.

They think it’s funny that I’m also ignorant about the bathroom’s

It gave a slight pop when it lit up after I turned the switch. How was

it would startle me?

This is now the next day, and Milagrosa is gone to the places we’ll

until she returns. We’re all somewhat nervous because we don’t know
what kind of people we’ll be with. Also, we can’t speak

just don’t know what to do about the new dialect we’ll need to speak--

While we wait, I wonder how my girlfriend, Carmen, is doing in

Pangasinan.

try hard to find each other--stay in touch one way or the other. She

gave me the address of her aunt’s house, so I want to have someone

living at. Then she’ll know how to reach me.

Now that

a place for us to go now. She spoke with the people she knew were

interested in having girls from the province work for them.

I do hope I can learn their dialect quickly to better communicate. I

outsiders coming and going each day. With the lady being pregnant,

she’ll need me to help her with each person’s laundry. There’re also the

Apparently, there’s a five-year-old daughter who will be starting

school soon. This means I’ll help to care for the child, and since the

once it arrives.

Since we leave tomorrow morning, the other girls and I speak about

other or whatever. That is, if it’s allowed.

148

I hope the families the other girls are going to won’t be so hard on

them. There’s no way of knowing what we’ll each be up against. But

God knows. So I’m in His hands as usual wherever I’m at.

>

Well, I’m in my new home--temporarily, I guess. Or maybe not.

The lady is real nice. She has us call her “Aunt Mary.” Her maiden

name is Bartolome, and she’s married to Nano Aspecto. We call him

“Papa Nano”.

Milagrosa was right about the family. There’re ten people who

come and go. They have jobs here in Manila. Two of Aunt Mary’s

brothers are here along with Mr. Aspecto’s three nephews and two

nieces. There’s also Aunt Mary’s sister, Lina. Then there’s Yolanda--

Aunt Mary’s daughter out of wedlock. Christina is the Aspectos’ fiveyear-

old girl. Then there’s another lady staying here--a teacher from

Aparri where Mr. Aspecto came from.

There are other people the Aspectos allow in while looking for jobs

in the city. When they settle, they move out. In the meantime, we do

their laundry and things like that which I suppose is how Aunt Mary

makes some money. Right now, she’s doing all she can but tires easily

since she’s pregnant.

This place is so crowded It’s wall to wall bodies at night. There’s

only one room upstairs, which I would estimate to be fourteen by

fourteen feet square. All the girls sleep up there, and the men sleep
downstairs on mats on the cement floor. Sheets are their only covers,

but of course, sheets aren’t necessary since it’s so hot anyway. Everyone

must also sleep under a mosquito net.

I’ve never experienced this before--sleeping with mosquito nets. But

the mosquitoes are so thick at night here in Manila. There’re also lots

of bed bugs that come out after dark to bite us. We have all these things

to fight off at night. It’s something. If we sleep near the edge of the net,

we are eaten by mosquitoes where they can reach us. Also, sleeping at

the very edge brings a lot of bites from the bed bugs.

Since this place is very crowded, some of the girls small enough lie

underneath the cots upstairs to sleep at night. This is how it is night

after night. Going to the bathroom is a whole other matter.

Anyway, I have to observe everything Aunt Mary does and note

what she tells me to do.

She can speak Ilocano, which I’m thankful for, but she says I should

try not to use the Ilocano dialect when I’m talking so I can learn

Tagalog faster. She says I’ll pick up quickly if I can name each thing

149

Tagalog. She

also states everything we do each day.

Tagalog. I’m learning to ask where things are at and to adapt to their
way of life.

hardly any place to walk around without bumping into someone. This

place in the city is really different from what I There are

streets they call “

corridors only wide enough for two people to walk side by side. They’re

actually more like alleys but terrible looking because of the open ditches

We have to walk over wood planks to avoid the messes out there--

the mud holes and stuff. It’s just filth coming out from houses into open

of the time. All we can do is hop from stone to stone or walk over the

planks to get out to the streets. Even the water from laundry tubs run

All that gooey stuff from the

houses. It’s

If we see greenery at all, it’s sure something to look at. Only a tree

is left here or there after the war. Flowers and plants aren’t readily

Terrible looking.

I’ve met the family that will be coming in and out of the house.

where her other brother, Tuto, works. But Papa

water department. The others leave early each morning and come home

around five o’clock in the afternoon.

So we have much to cook for the evening meals. Although we have

lights, there’s no refrigeration, so we must go to market each day around

The kitchen is quite small. In one corner is a cooking area where

there’s a box of dirt with three stones to hold a cooking pot. Another

the stones, so we can prepare enough food for everyone. Then we feed

the men first since there’s only a small eating table in the kitchen.

everything inside gets splashed. We have to climb steps to get through

that window to spread out the clothes we wash. Sometimes the whites

detergent and set them on the roof for the sun to bleach. Then we go up

quite often to sprinkle water to soften more of the dirt. The second day,

150

You sure do have to be an expert to climb up and down through that

little window. It’s only big enough for a body to squeeze through while

carrying a load of laundry. We usually devote two to three days each

week to washing clothes depending on how much each person has.

The clean clothes then have to be separated and folded. Of course, a

lot of them seem to need ironing to soften. Then, it’s because even the

socks are stiff like boards after drying on the line. Aunt Mary and I

work together to get the job done quicker. She with her electric iron,

and I with the charcoal one. Much of the time I end up ironing

everything alone since she’s getting close to her delivery date. She

doesn’t feel up to doing much of the hard work at all.

I’ve also been running to Market alone to buy vegetables or meat

while she stays behind to build the fire to prepare supper. If there

happen to be leftovers, we save them for the next day’s lunch. I don’t

mind also having to get up early around five o’clock before everyone

else. I’m expected to run down to the bakery a few blocks away to buy

hard rolls. Everyone eats these with a bit of butter and coffee for

breakfast.

Without refrigeration, we seldom have cold drinks. If someone

wants something cold, they have to buy a block of ice to chop up and put

in a glass of water or something. We also don’t enjoy soft drinks and

such. People only buy those things if they think they can afford it to

give to special guests. Other than that, we drink water day in and day

out.

I’ve recently learned that I arrived here in Manila on February 11,

1946. 1 hadn’t thought much about the date since we’d all lost track of

time after running away from home during the war. I’m just now

learning the year, days, and hours all over again.

I also found out that Milagrosa collected her money for my trip and

clothes by charging the expenses to Aunt Mary. I’m working to pay

those off. She did tell me beforehand that she might be able to do that,

but come to find out, she even added a small commission on top of the

total for her time. I don’t receive money, so I’ll need to work that off,
too. I assumed she was just helping me--being Mom’s friend and all. I

don’t know--maybe she didn’t really know my mother at all.

Apparently, she does this kind of thing for a living besides selling cloth

goods. Live and learn.

At least I have a roof over my head and food to eat. Aunt Mary even

altered four dresses for me to wear that she can’t fit into anymore.

Other than those, I don’t receive wages while I work off what’s owed to

Milagrosa. From time to time, the people who stay here give me a little

something because they’re grateful that I help to clean their clothes. It’s

so I can go to the movies or have some other recreation with the girls.

151

After being here a couple of months, Yolanda took me to see a

movie. I didn’t care for it much though. It’s the first one for me to see

in my life, and it turned out to be a war movie. I could only try to sit

patiently until it was over before we could leave the theater. That was

all right, I suppose, except for more bed bugs. Once we made it outside,

I discovered I’d been bitten up behind my knees from those things--

bumps all over.

>

It’s the third month I’m living here, and Aunt Mary awakened

Yolanda and me in the middle of the night. She thinks it’s time to have
her baby, so she needs us to go with her to the clinic.

It’s six blocks away, so we both get up to walk her there. We’re

trying to get there as quickly as possible but have to slow down

whenever she starts having the pain bad. After we finally make it, we

take her to the nurses’ station for one nurse to admit her.

The doctor told us there’s nothing for us to do at this point, so we

have to leave Mrs. Aspecto here and walk back home. We’ll come again

tomorrow to see if she had the baby.

After Yolanda and I get home to bed, we have trouble falling asleep,

so we climb up on the roof instead. We lie here counting stars, and once

in a while, we get laughing and have to shush so as not to wake the

others. We’re talking--wondering if Aunt Mary will have a boy or girl.

We hope she doesn’t have a hard time but won’t know until we return

tomorrow.

>

We’re back to the clinic, and Mrs. Aspecto had a baby girl after all.

She named her Vicki--Victoria. She’s supposed to go home tomorrow.

So we’ll come back again to walk her home.

Papa Nano just goes about just as calm usual. He doesn’t think to

come visit Aunt Mary here at this clinic. He’s just waiting for her to

return home. What a way to be.

>

Yolanda and I take turns to carry the baby home while Aunt Mary

walks slowly.

I can see she’s extremely tired because it takes us longer to get home

than it did for us to get over to the clinic the other night.

At the house, Lina has prepared supper for everyone since we

weren’t around to do it. She works at a Chinese restaurant downtown.

But even though she’s not feeling well and didn’t go in today, she ended

up making supper for eleven people. That’s how many stay here now.

152

Yolanda and I take Aunt Mary and Vicki upstairs to fix her a spot to

lie down in one corner. That way the girls won’t be stepping over her.

She won’t be expected to move, and they can just spread their mats on

the other side of the room.

Once she and the baby are situated, we’re able to bring her supper

and a portable potty. Now she won’t have to go up and down the stairs

for what she needs.

>

It’s back to the same routine all over again. I get up in the mornings

to buy rolls at the bakery. I also have to see what Aunt Mary wants me

to buy from the market to feed the people each evening. Most of the
cleaning, laundry, and ironing are up to me now while she recuperates

from having the baby.

Each day after Yolanda comes home from school, she studies until

it’s time to help me or one of the other girls fix supper. Then after we

feed everyone and wash the dishes, she returns to her studies.

Five-year-old, Christina, is so taken with her baby sister. Almost

every day, she sits upstairs with her mamma to be close to the baby.

She’s no trouble at all and plays with her dolls or whatever while we’re

doing the usual housework.

>

Today is cleaning day. We scrub the floor upstairs first by using

coconut husks to make it shiny. Then we wax and polish the downstairs

floor the same even though it’s cement. We want to be sure it’s nice and

clean. Once that’s done, we’ll prepare supper. It seems as if the job is

forever for us--over and over each day. Well, that’s the way it goes--just

need to keep on doing.

There isn’t much time for socializing, but I do try to attend church

on Sundays. The others don’t really care for it except Yolanda. She

goes with me to a church about four blocks away. We usually attend the

service and return home to relax in the afternoon unless we walk

downtown.
At least we do have Sundays to rest as much as possible. Except for

the usual cooking for everyone.

Once in a while, Lina asks us to go along to the restaurant. Then

she doesn’t have to walk alone. The cook is nice to let us sit in one

corner of the kitchen while preparing food for the customers. They even

let us eat for free sometimes as a compliment to Lina.

If we’re not waiting, Yolanda and I walk downtown to browse the

shops or catch a movie. The theater isn’t far from the restaurant, and

she likes to watch those sad love affair movies. We once saw one about

an

153

actress who killed herself over jealousy. The boyfriend’s eyes were on

movie with Yolanda crying.

spoken in Tagalog. I still don’t know much of the language yet, but once

they make, but it’s not much fun for me since I don’t understand their

words-- only their motions.

Sometimes we catch an American movie like the first one I ever

saw. Of course it had to be a war movie. A lot of Filipinos and

her name’s Hedy

stealing. But as far as going to see all that--its just not my idea of

>
I’ve been working for the

time is almost complete.

Aunt Mary’s brother, Roman, works at the American Embassy and

clean their apartment and wash their laundry.

So he and I speak with Aunt Mary, and she feels that if I’m able to

can get the job, then that’s good.

154