It’s been almost two years since I last saw my father. The last time was at my brother’s wedding in January 2009. Since it was probably the first time we saw him again after he left for Iloilo in 2004, and everyone was preoccupied with wedding preparations, there wasn’t really time to talk or bond. And everyone was kind of on the edge, waiting for that one moment Papa and Mama would be left “unsupervised” and hence, Word War III would commence!
Lolo Wins, my dad’s father, passed away last week. We all made last minute plans to go to Iloilo, save for my sister Jean and the kids, as they already had the chance to see Lolo alive and say goodbye last May. I haven’t been to Papa’s hometown since 2006 and haven’t met some of our cousins, so I was kinda excited as well, even under the circumstances.
Mama, Kuya Pao, Ate Joy and I were met at the airport by Papa. He made beso to all of us, even my mom, who looked mighty uncomfortable. It was only when we were all making small talk about the flight and I removed my sunglasses that Papa did a double-take at me. He squinted at my face, broke into laughter and lightly slapped my cheeks. He didn’t recognize me! He thought I was Ate’s officemate.
Being back here and listening to all my relatives and friends talk in lilting Ilonggo, I am reminded of how I often wanted to learn how to speak the dialect. Except for Papa, and Kuya who spent his first semester of college here, all of us only know a smattering of Ilonggo, and can only smile vaguely when our cousins and aunts start bantering in rapid Ilonggo. I’ve always been confused because oftentimes they sound like they’re arguing when they’re actually not, and vice versa.
Some people are actually surprised to learn I do have anti-social tendencies. I’m actually shy. Yes, wipe that drink shooting out of your nose and stop laughing; I am shy. I’m uncomfortable when meeting new people. I abhor small talk, which would probably explain why I’ve never been to a blind date or all the guys I’ve dated are either friends or friends of friends. I’m not used to that initial polite getting-to-know-you phase.
Ate Jean is the gregarious one in the bunch. Perhaps this came from teaching preschoolers for years. If she can entertain or make those brats listen to her, she can very well make anyone follow her lead. Papa is also the talkative, chikadora type, the kind who endears himself to others by making off-color jokes or dropping amusing but sometimes useless trivia about everyone. Kuya got a bit of that, I think. Mama is the ultimate queen B, but her work oftentimes make it necessary for her to play nice, although it only takes very little to provoke her and bring out the B in her, haha. Ate Joy is suplada as well, but her bright, pretty face belies this snobby side of her so people still have a tendency to gravitate towards her.
I’m the moody one. I’ll befriend you if I feel like it; if not, I just won’t talk to you. I prefer making friends with people who are already my friends’ friends, because that cuts the awkward small-talk phase in half. I’m only really friendly when drunk, which is probably why half of the people I met while intoxicated, I don’t remember their names, and half, I can’t recall their faces. Nyaha.
Even at work, when I’m quiet, they know me well enough not to attempt a conversation. When I’m up for it, you can hear me cracking jokes or making fun of my teammates from across the room. But don’t expect me to be little miss perky the first two hours of the shift. I will bite your head off.
This might also explain why, while Kuya and Papa are at the poker table laughing and conversing in Ilonggo with my relatives and friends, Ate Joy has commandeered my iTouch and Yes! magazine to herself, Mama is equally engrossed in her own book, and I am in a dark corner of the house, typing away on my laptop and wishing for a free Wifi with a really strong connection. Faack.
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