While shopping alone in the nearby supermarket, my hubby came upon a woman from the Philippines who offered him a sample of some drink product. Then she asked him, “are you Chinese, sir?” — to which my husband replied that he is actually Japanese, not Chinese nor Korean as most people in Dubai would assume whenever we go out. (We get lots of nihao’s from people at the restaurant.)
What happened next was, the woman started to talk in Japanese! Hubby was thrilled and probably happy about it, he called me on the phone. Where there are countless number of Filipinos everywhere in Dubai, there is no single soul that can speak his language — I could totally relate to his feelings.
The other girl on the line talked to me: “Ate…blah blah…blah”
How can they always assume that I am older than them? Ate is a Filipino term meaning older sister, or a word used to refer to some female older than yourself. Don’t get me wrong, I have no issues about my age but still…
Anyway, as with most of the conversations I had with Filipinos when I was in Japan, they start telling me their life story in a span of any short-minute chat. She started telling me her woes, charged to my hubby’s telephone! She even forgot to ask my name first. She said she has a baby…”Ate, naanakan po ako ng Hapon…” I have a baby with a Japanese father….(This is a more decent translation to the statement she just blurted out.) The rest of the conversation she continues that the Japanese who fathered her baby went missing after she went back to the Philippines to deliver. Went missing! This is probably a suited definition for men sent to war. They go missing, gone, poof, nothing. The Japanese guy simply ran away from his responsibility.
When she sensed that it was only her doing all the talking while I just stuck my phone in my ear (while biting my lips), she said, “ok I will give the phone to your hubby now. Pass by the supermarket tomorrow, I’d like to see you!”
So, yesterday as much as I didn’t want to go to the supermarket, I had to buy some necessities for my daughter so off I went. I met her. She was just 28 years old. Yes, it was rightful she called me Ate because I am two years older than her. Two years! just two years but her face was battle-ridden than mine. We had a talk. She asked me where I worked and if she can apply. Typical conversation. Told her I can’t promise anything, I am new to the company
and I am not the HR manager!
Then we’re back to her
distraught love life. In between giving product samples and sobbing, she told me once again about how she fell in love and got duped. “Wala akong magawa, nainlab ako e…” I have nothing to do, I fell in love.
Have nothing to do about the love you claim? As if life is some kind of game board you play with dice. Roll the dice in and you step 5 paces and land in a space that says MEET GUY. FALL IN LOVE. GET PREGNANT. No, life is not supposed to be like that! Whatever we do is a product of the decisions we make.
The Japanese guy she was dating was a man in her 50’s frequenting the pub she was working in Japan. The man who promised to follow her to the Philippines. The man who is not supposed to make such promises because he is MARRIED!
How she trusted a man, married at that who frequents pubs and cabarets is so beyond me. How she can believe him when he says he will leave his wife for her! How can she fall in love with a man who is committed and sleeps with another woman.
I despise the man that sperminated her, but hey, it takes two to tango. Please don’t tell me you can’t do anything about it because you fell in love.
P.S. — upon her insistence, she got my phone number…and she called me at 11:38 p.m. when everybody in my house is asleep. I should have known. Some people just call when they like regardless of the time and situation.