Subic Bay with Cousins

I awoke to the sound of a rooster, as the sun peered brightly through the window. The remote chatter of a few old ladies I call my aunts (you call every peer of your parent’s whether they’re remotely related to you or not, a tita or tito) awaited me. Mom was a school teacher before she moved to the states in ’68, and I sat quietly as the four reminisced their days, desperately grasping at whatever memories they could muster.

In an overstuffed van, we traveled to Subic Bay on the western shores overlooking the South China Sea. We passed through decaying remnants of the old US military base near Subic Bay. We descended down steep ravines where the crystalline blue waters, sandy beaches and waving palms ushered us in.

My kuya Al & kuya Sandy (kuya is a sign of respect for your elder peers – yet another Filipino convention) welcomed me. Their faces were all too familiar, mostly from the old roughed edged pictures accompanied by the letters Tita Auring sent mom on onion-skin paper narrating the stages of their lives. I vaguely recalled mom telling me about Al the aspiring priest turned business man for San Miguel brewing. Sandy, he was always a numbers guy mom told me. I wish I paid closer attention, because keeping in touch with people vicariously is hard work.



Al & Sandy shared their half of our parent’s correspondence, as we tried to fill in the 28 year gap as the sun set over the sea. We’re all much older now, eyes wrinkled & tired. Now, we all have families of our own. My nieces and nephews all looked at me curiously and with child-like shyness as the tito from the US. My kids would have loved being here to play, and perhaps my Isabel would be trying to take it all in as I did so long ago.

- Marvin