Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Silent She

She wakes up while the sun has barely risen, roosters still quite silent and the wind misty. She goes to the market to buy freshly baked pandesals and some fresh meat, vegetables and fruits. She carries the heavy load home. Once she gets back to the kitchen, she carefully fries a sunny side up egg, one that is still wet, just as you prefer. She accidentally pokes the yolk and the yellow filling starts to spill out. She wants to throw it away and make you another one, but that would be a waste. She thinks maybe you won't mind. She makes a sangag with the rice from last night and a couple of chopped garlic cloves. Afterwards, she places your pandesal in the oven toaster, turns the knob to "3" and hurriedly pours the sangag on your plate before the bottom gets burnt. She then washes the chopping board used for the garlic, a knife, a pot and a pan. She smiles contently as everything is back to its original state, sparkling white. You are still sleeping when she goes to the front yard to water the plants. She takes off the weeds and dried leaves and shoos the nasty mosquitoes and flies away.

Riiiiiinnngggg..... Your alarm buzzes. You press the snooze button and sleep until it alarms ten minutes after. You get up, wash your face and dry yourself with a towel. You go down to the kitchen only to face the same old breakfast. "Nene!!" You shout to call her who is already in your room fixing the bed, "Why do you cook the same thing everyday? Don't you even know how to experiment new things? And why is this egg basag? O come on!"

You are pissed. You decide to feed them to the dog and just buy something on the way later. You see her sullen face which gets you all the more annoyed. You think you pay for her anyway so she deserves to be taught a lesson. She has to fulfill her job you know.

She goes back to her room, thinks about the children that she has left behind in the province. They would've enjoyed the egg. Probably they're currently eating tuyo and rice again. The same thing for the past years. Tears swell up in her eyes as she remembers the three little children she dresses up for school and the young baby girl who sleeps on the duyan tied to the ceiling beside her bed. She longs to hear her first utterance of "Mama" but it now seems impossible as mama is oceans away. She wonders if Junior is studying well in school and if Marissa is eating her vitamins. She has respiratory problem. She hopes Nina is still in the honor roll. She is just as smart and kulit as her papa. How is papa? Hopefully the santol and mango trees are still up and bearing fruits despite the visits of Ondoy, Juan, Pepeng, Raming and others.

"Nene!!" You call her again curious where she could be. It's early in the morning and it ticks you that she might already be resting. She wipes her tears away and meets you at the front door. "Lock the gates," you tell her. You're off to meet the barkada in the mall and chill. She goes back to the house, washes the dishes, mops the floor, and wipes the counter. And after she's done with the kitchen, she starts with the laundry. She has to do all the white and colored clothes today before five pm so she can prepare a yummy dinner for you. Hopefully, you will appreciate it.

Note: This is a piece written as a tribute to all the maids. It does not in any way depict a real-life story.

No comments:

Post a Comment