My aunts and cousins came for a visit during Ramadan and I only spent a few hours talking to them before retreating in my room. My cousin, Quincy pretended to be shy at first and then ended up feeding me Mr. Chips and doughnuts even if I told her I didn't want to eat. I was on a frigging diet for crying out loud. I already sneaked a few heavenly bites from the can of Danish cookies that my mom's boss gave her before my relatives arrived. The whole can ended up getting into Quin's tiny hands. Oh well.
Well-behaved Quin turned naughty after 30 minutes. I ended up wrestling with her on the floor. If you were up for more than 12 hours working nonstop, wrestling with a little kid is the last thing on your mind. That's why I'm not married yet. I simply do not know where to dig up the energy that working moms have.
Her little brother, Jeoff is a darling. He would run around and climb up the couch, but he wouldn't ask me to play rough and tumble games. Quin sweetly asked if we could go to my room instead of staying in the living room. And have her make a mess out of my already trashy-looking room?! No way. I insisted that we stay in the living room where we could watch television. I tried luring her into sitting in a corner by getting hold of the remote and searching for the Cartoon Network. She ignored the cartoon shows. I switched to Discovery Channel, but the sight of animals eating each other didn't even catch her attention.
My aunt who just got home from Palau went with my mom to the market. I ended up tending to Quincy's whims while her mom took a nap on one of the couches in the living room. My body was aching after a few hours of playing with her and all I wanted was to snooze. Dealing with her is probably my karma for giving my aunt a hell of a time when I was a little girl in Antique. I must have been that bitchy to have to endure my cousin's crazy antics.
When I felt the exhaustion creeping slowly into my body, I sneaked slowly into my room and shut the door tight so she couldn't get in. I heard her rapping on the door and calling my name while her yaya asked her to shut up so I could sleep.
After only four hours, I was roused from a deep slumber by my lola. My stomach was rumbling and the smell of pasta seduced me out of my room. My mom and my aunt bought a whole big platter of baked macaroni and they were feasting on it. Screw diets. I attacked a plateful of the dish and kept coming back for more. I didn't want to go to work that night because it was one of the rare times that my relatives would come over. We don't really have a close knit family so I treasure the moments when we could just forget age-old quarrels and differences and just laugh over jokes and catch up on each other's lives.
My aunt brought pictures that they took of Quincy when she joined her school's Miss United Nations contest. She was Miss Philippines complete with a terno in red and blue with sequins scattered all over. I chuckled over the wooden clogs my aunt had her wear. Little miss bitch won the title because she was so 'bibo' that the judges couldn't resist giving her their votes. She and her partner got the award for the best float because my aunt bought a banana tree and had it cut. They attached it to the little side car and they even chose the one with ripe fruits on it. My uncle looked for bamboo that they placed at the back of the float along with a cute drawing of a carabao they attached in front. My aunt also placed brown soil and clumps of grass in front then completed the Filipiniana look by putting animal toys that Kit used for his school project on top of the grass. The parents also wore those wooden hats called salakot.
The whole thing was impressive. When I was 'forced' to be Miss Austria back in high school, I didn't take the contest seriously. I wrote scripts for the other contestants and just shrugged it off when I only made it to the top 15, but not to the top 5. I hated standing onstage the whole time in high heels, wearing an evening gown I detested and enduring pain from wounds on my knees made by pins the seamstress forgot to remove from my national costume. My classmates were forcing me to smile, but I couldn't because I felt like a homosexual in thick makeup and an overrated costume. My mom was the only one who enjoyed it. She ranted about my not making it to the finals when I gave better answers than Miss Canada who talked about the 'Nagaraya Falls'. What a stage mom.
My cousins stayed until the next day and they were still around when I got home from work. I cajoled Quincy into having her pictures taken with me, but she intentionally looked in different directions, made funny faces and rolled her eyes. 20 years ago, I threw tantrums before letting the photographer take pictures of me. My aunt, Quincy's mom had to pacify me and hold onto my arm tightly just so we could have decent portraits. She used to assure me that the photographer wouldn't shoot us dead. That flashing light was harmless.
Yes, this is karma.
Kit told me that he was playing with Jeoff the night before when Quin entered the room and pushed her brother. He toppled into the bed like a rag doll. Quincy must think that her brother doesn't have breakable bones like her toys. Her Barbie did a Marie Antoinette and lost her head not because of the guillotine, but because Quincy thought it would be easier dressing up a Barbie without the head in the way. My aunt couldn't find where it rolled after. Imagine my horror when I found my Barbie in pink tutu slumped on top of our printer after they left. My cousin apparently entered my room the night before and convinced my mom to give her my precious doll to play with. I had to study for one whole year and have honors in my English and Chinese classes before my mom's co-worker, Tita Grace bought me the doll so I consider it really valuable.
***
I have one teammate who I am really fond of. Not because we're really close, but because she does things that I can never muster enough courage to do in my whole life. She dresses really well and looks so put together and dainty most of the time. She buys her clothes in Bangkok during Christmas trips with her boyfriend. The first thing I noticed about her on the day we met was her green pair of stilettos that looked like sneakers. Cute. I couldn't help, but think how Gladz would love her outfits. During the first week of our training, I thought of her as snobbish because she kept to herself most of the time. She introduced herself as Jill, but her boyfriend calls her 'my little queen'. Sweet.
We get along really well. I could imagine her as a little sister because I am two years older. We would kid each other about being irate, irritable and violent sometimes because she sits near my station. I would tell Gem about her because she studied in DLSU-Dasma. My brother only knows her as the 'matapang na teammate ko na inaway si _____, yung klepto' until last week.
I was in the office early for my two-hour pre-shift overtime a.k.a subtle slavery doing emails when Jill arrived. I heard her call out my name cheerfully before exclaiming about a fight she got into in the bus. Apparently, she was feeling really irritable that morning that she released all the negative energy by engaging in a catfight with another female passenger in the bus. She sat in a seat fit for three people inside the bus bound for Laguna. The woman made way for her so she could sit in the middle. The passenger sitting by the window was a little on the plus-size so the woman's butt couldn't fit into the space Jill left for her to occupy. She elbowed Jill a few times which got into her nerves.
Jill: Pinili mo umupo diyan di ba? Tapos sisiksik mo ako. Siguraduhin mo lang na mauuna ka bumaba.
The woman pretended to listen to her iPod. Jill pretended to laugh at her. She looked at Jill. Jill stared back.
Jill: Anong tinitingin-tingin mo? Inggit ka kasi maganda ako?!
The woman sniffed and made a disgusted look pertaining to the smell of cigarette smoke that clung to Jill's clothes. She stood up and pushed Jill by the arm. Jill stood up, took out the small container of tear gas she kept in her bag and threatened to spray the woman with it if she made another move. She placed it inside her bag, but the woman took it and sprayed in her direction. A few sprays hit Jill near the eyes. She sniffed and gagged a little before pushing the woman down on the aisle. The other passengers made such a riot because the chemical scattered all over the airconditioned bus. Jill started stomping and kicking at the woman who was lying on the floor. If I could only ask Jill to give a re-enactment like she did in the parking lot when we were chatting, you would describe her as a woman possessed.
The woman who didn't give up without a fight grabbed at Jill's blouse exposing a little of her green brassiere. A guy with a digital camera took a snapshot. It is rarely that one can witness a catfight inside a moving bus so why not take even one souvenir?
She scratched at Jill's face and chest before somebody grabbed her to stop the fight. Jill, who was lying on the seat yanked at her hair really hard and continued scratching, punching and kicking at her. When they got to Alabang, Jill asked the woman to get off the bus. When she refused, Jill called a policeman who went inside the bus and asked her to go to the municipal hall. Jill wanted to sue her, but the policeman persuaded her not to because it was a laughable incident that's not worth wasting time and money over.
The ending? They shook hands and made up. Not before Jill could deliver her award-winning line.
Jill: Sabihin niyo nga, chief, ako naman talaga mas maganda sa amin di ba?
The policemen just smiled.
Jill did not tell her boyfriend about it because it was just ka-cheapan. She was just crazy enough that morning to actually set aside her breeding. Our supervisor told us that she would have slapped the woman if she were there. My lola and mom told me that Jill should have pressed charges. Erika's mom said she should have asked for the tear gas back because it was expensive. Us, girls posed and made fighting gestures-ala Charlie's Angels the whole night to tease Jill.
Why didn't Jill sue the woman? Because the woman ended up with bruises in the neck and scratches in the arms. She looked more like the victim than Jill. I told her that if I would have a daughter someday, I'd introduce her to Tita Jill for her lessons in How to be a Vicious Bitch 101.