Pinay's Letter From Brunei By Ruth Mabanglo

I am a teacher, wife and mother. A woman---kissed by perfume, powder and silk, Intimate with the washtub, pots, and bed. Seemingly weary and bored, I seek to go abroad. Always the same man sits at the head of the table, He reads the newspaper each morning. He waits for his coffee And smokes, While I am restrained by the crib and books, I apply my lipstick and let the faucet drip. He does not stir Even if the pots burn or the children whimper. In the bathroom, I hand him his underwear and towel, I comfort him when he is edgy. He has no explanation for Why he stays out all night, But his forehead is furrowed When I leave on Sunday. He does not like galunggong and saluyot Even though the pay envelope is flat, He seems to still want me to perform miracles Even if the rent money is always short. I am a teacher, wife and mother. A woman---weary of being a woman. Designated by my genitalia Assigned to the broom, the wash and lullaby Even with a profession and salary. Always the same daily routine---

The drudgery spread out in the length Of the house and school Of the kitchen and bed. Do I have the right to sulk? Where will I run when I am sad? He has a beerhouse and massage parlor hangout My partner who craves, I wait by the window. My body blazes with my ambitions My tongue has a cross and is barred to speak. My children ask for bread, I turn up the volume of the radio. It seems I am weary and bored, I seek to go abroad. It was then I dreamt I was wearing pants, I send dollars and pasalubong. I can now breathe freely, My lips are without keys, my mind is open. I confess that I am lonely Even if now, I make my own coffee. I wait for letters at the gate and door, On the phone my heart is replenished. I cried in the beginning, It appears that everything can be cured by reading. This is the answer, Leave the man to wash the sheets.