Friday, June 19, 2009

A Poor Boy's Memoir: Dimension I

gallon container, a poor boy's memoir, life strugglePardon me If I cannot tell the story perfectly as I only finished Grade 4 of Elementary School in Philippines. But I want to tell my story. --- I was born as the second child of my parents. I am the eldest son though. We are six in all: I have two brothers and three sisters. Maybe you are thinking why my parents did not have family planning tactics. You are right in a way but not correct in another. After my sister who's next to me was born, my mother had the tubal ligation schedule at our local hospital but that very scheduled day, a typhoon hit the Philippines until she could not get another schedule so soon. In short, she get pregnant again for our 4th sibling. He's a boy too.

My childhood was not bad, I can say. My sister, the oldest in the family, she was very responsible as a child, while our younger siblings, we both played with them and we helped a lot in the house chores. We used to fetch water from a very far place, maybe around 3 kilometers away from our house. You can imagine us: I, with my one gallon of water as I move it from my right hand to my left from time to time to ease the pain of the gallon container weight, while my sister, she has each in her hand. When she's tired, or can't bear the weight for quite some time, she puts those two gallon containers to the ground and we both take some minutes of rest.

fetching water, water fetching, difficult water supply -- I remember my childhood when I saw that image in the right... that child is carrying a heavier container than what we used to do though... --

Since we are talking about those gallon containers, I tell you that we really considered ourselves to be lucky if we could find those containers to have lid. Because if not, we expect a lot of wasted along the way, maybe 20% of what we initially took from the water well. I can remember that we used to do this water fetching the moment I could walk. Water supply in my town, and many other towns in the Philippines, is such a bitch, you know.

Those gallon containers were a remarkable part of my life. Maybe because I spend almost all my childhood for that: fetching water. When our third sister started to walk, she joined the team of water fetcher for the family. Thus, we always went in teams of three with those gallon containers in our hand. That time however, Sister 2 is the one who's carrying a single gallon container as she was the smallest in the team. Sister 1 and I were both having two gallons containing water in each hand.

The fun of doing this thing was, we do it after school in the afternoon. We arrived at home at around 5:30 after running back home from the elemntary scholl that's around 5 kilometers away from home. The moment we rested our school bags and umbrellas inside the house, we would go right away to the kitchen to take those empty gallons, get them ready, and then we would change our school uniforms to house clothes. After, off we go to the water well a few kilometers away.

Since no hurry is needed when we did those tasks, sometime we played along the way. We were only afraid of the darkness which starts to hit the country at around 6 or 6:30 sometimes or maybe in a very limited number of times at 7 pm. But how could we know anyway? Wrist watches were things of luxury for us so we have none. We relied on our guts and eyes to see if darkness was coming. Thus, when the sun was still up and light was still visible, sometimes we go inside the mini-jungle along the way and climb some fruit tress and eat them. I remember those fruit trees: santol from May to June and guava for various months of the year and pomelo on a few ocassions. There were so many coconuts but it needs a cutting material to be eaten so we have not eaten any fresh cocos along the way that time. We also used to eat sugar canes but those were from sugar cane plantations and not from mini-jungles like the other fruits I mentioned. That's the fun of it! Climbing trees and eating and stealing a few sugar canes.

Despite the fact that we, my two sisters and I, worked more than play, we tried to make good of those moments and enjoy the best way we could. We only played during recess time at school from 9-9:30 in the morning and lunch break, when the sun was not so strong.

The water fetching with gallon containers is only one dimension of my life. You will know me little by little. I find my life interesting, sad, happy and a mix of everything. I will tell you another dimension soon.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Her Garden Has Something


fairy tale, butterfly fairy, butterfly fairy, butterfly fairy tale, gardening tale, children's taleHer garden is her passion. It's her trophy as well. None of their many friends and acquaintances who became a guest to their home has left without seeing their garden-her garden. Each and every of these guests always exclaim beautiful praises for her gardening works whenever any of them take a look at her garden. It seems that anytime of the year, bulbs and petals are everywhere. The colors are varied and make the viewers' eyes really enjoy.

"I'm not alone in creating this beauty. The butterflies help me", she explains every time and her guests simply smile at this nite of hers.

She has to admit that gardening is not easy. When she started, she could not count the number of dying plants and flowers that passed by her hands but she persevered and continued trying. She knew that gardening has many good things in it. Among these many good things, she thinks of the utmost good side: she is building a playground for butterflies.

She remmebered that not even a single butterfly was present when she was starting and was still in the phase that most plants were dying when she tries to do something with them. But now, she could observe a good number of butterflies flying around anytime of the day as long as it's not raining hard and as long as the sun's light is still out. She loves butterflies. For her, a garden without butterfly seem to defeat the purpose of its existence. Butterflies add color to the existing beautiful colors that her plants and flowers in the garden already have.

fairy tale, butterfly fairy, butterfly fairy, butterfly fairy tale, gardening tale, children's tale
Seeing a color combination in motion amazes her- the color of flying butterflies in various colors and shapes. There are around at least seventy butterflies in her garden and when any of those butterfly hops in her hand while she does her gardeing, she tries to pause and converse with the beautiful creature. "Hi beautiful! What made you hop in my skin? I'm not a flower but I assume I'm sweet?" Even her make a wide grin when this situation happens and she would put the butterfly slowly in one of her garden's many blooming petals and off she goes back gardening again.

She continued this routine of talking to the butterflies as if they are humans. One day, while she was very happy doing her usual gardening stuff, as her mode of relaxation after going home from office, one very beautiful and strange looking butterfly hopped in her hand. As usual, she conversed with the beautiful creature. "How are you beautiful? Are you from this garden? I have never seen you before, have I?"

"I am doing great madam, and thanks to you. I'm from this garden of yours but I rarely go out." The butterfly talked back to her in a high pitched voice but just enough for her to hear it. Naturally she was taken aback by this fact.