SPRECAN.SPECAN.SPECEN.

I wrote this conversation because I realized the deep life-long strings attached to even a single innocent question - the thoughts that come along with it and the memories a person can associate it with. It’s incredible.

….Or perhaps, it’s just how I think!

October 29, 2008

For the nth time and expectantly the last - though I know this question will always be raised – I retell my odyssey. I came to China because my college buddies invited me to stay with them for three months… At that time, there were no problems securing for a multiple-entry visa. You could easily get it in a week’s time and enter China whenever you want. Unfortunately now, with the succeeding cases of Filipinos being caught on illegal visas, drug trafficking, and other cases, it is very hard for the many Filipinos to come to China without being scrutinized and harassed by immigration officers. I cannot be mad anymore. I cannot blame them. If the other Filipinos were only thoughtful and mindful enough of their actions, then these degrading intrusions would never have happened in the first place.
The Chinese man gave me that questioning look and I automatically guessed what he was about to ask and so I continued. Luckily, the director whom I worked part-time offered me a full-time job…and so I am still here. He half-smiled. Then comes the next question: how do you find Shenzhen? If I were British, perhaps, I would answer this question in a satirical way as, I found Shenzhen by looking at the map of China. It is located in the southernmost tip next to Hong Kong. But I’m not. I answer the American way, “it’s a great place”. And…? He pried. We both smiled sheepishly. “I think it’s a very memorable place for me. It is a place that I will never forget for the rest of my life.” With a puzzled look on his face, I doubted if he understood the depth of that statement. His English level is not very high. I figure he must be thinking of what I meant. Shenzhen is a beautiful place. I simplified.

It is in Shenzhen that I started real living. In a span of one year, I’ve learned a great deal about myself. It’s hard to imagine how I survived as opposed to the easy lifestyle I had back in the Philippines. When I left the Philippines for Hong Kong, I thought I was going back in four months time. It never occurred to me that it was going to take nine months before I could throw hugs and kisses to my family again. It was very hard to even think about it now. The next big hug came when I went to the Philippines earlier this year in February. I had a fever. Mom hugged me. I started trembling with tears rolling on my cheeks…and that was not because I felt hot but because I realized how much I missed them. At that time, I could hardly say anything as I was too short of words and breath…and because in our family, crying is not a tradition. I just felt like crumbling in her arms. I remember all those nights when I needed a pat, a massage, or simply the feeling of being around a mother. I guess the best description for that emotion if I were to put into words would be…OVERWHELMING. Although, I have won several awards in my life, I must say that the best reward I have ever received so far was simply…that long-awaited hug from mom and Dianne. Perhaps, in the future, hugs too from my own children and husband. (who knows…HUGE EXCITED SMILE!)

Vegging out for the last couple of minutes heightened my new friend’s anxiety. I straightened myself, took a tissue paper, and pretended my eyes were itchy. I started stuffing and rubbing them with it. “Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded feeling nostalgic than ever. Will you stay longer?
…who knows.
I hope you will.
…that we don’t know.
Do you want to?
I bobbed my head though there was that longing to be united with my family.
How old are you?
….I’m fine, thank you. I joked. He laughed almost falling off his chair.
Be careful! I warned as he continued laughing and hitting the coffee table with his palms. I have to explain though that this question if asked to the Chinese is commonly mistaken for the very basic “how are you?”. Thus, they usually answer this with I’m fine, thank you…and you? I grin at him.
I’m 24.
I was not surprised at his immediate awe. Very young!
Yes.
Any boyfriend? You must have left someone in the Philippines.

In the past year, I dreaded that question so much for many reasons.
“Nobody. No one.” It was a dead end. I hope my voice didn’t sound bitter. This was after all an innocent interrogation. It was almost too hard to swallow the lumps that I’ve tried so hard to hide every time someone asked me that particular question. Boyfriend? I can’t even begin to describe the past relationships I have had. They were unforgettable. I loved them all but they were not meant to last. They were just there because at that point in my life, they had to be in my heart.

Why China?

I thought hard again. Although, I have answered this question too many times, I still cannot hide from that fact that it was simply because of some wounds that my mom thought would be better treated in a new environment.

I was not too tough or as wise as I am now. I was simply a wounded child then. I needed healing, change, and GROWTH. I needed an awakening. I needed LIFE. As a young adult, the hardest realization was not knowing myself and what I desperately wanted. I simply couldn’t suck the marrow out of life! I couldn’t seize and cry CARPE DIEM!!!

By now, he, too, is obviously spacing out, apparently bored with how this coffee break is turning out. Silence. Perhaps, he isn’t used to it and so came the long list of questions to entertain the time. This should be a sufficient awkward moment for him. Dropping my hypothesis of his thoughts, I assume that he feels awkward and embarrassed at how extremely neutral I seemed.

The simple yet deafening conversation ends with one last question.

Do you drink coffee a lot?
A new question - a better one, I must add, apart from the other questions he has asked. Yep, actually my second cup of coffee for today. To my mom, apparently she would have drunk her third or fourth cup of coffee at this time of day.

He raised his cup towards me, aiming to cheer me up and in a jolly voice, cried, “kambe!” It means bottoms up. We laughed, raised our cups and cheered!

Parting ways was the easiest and presumably a relief for him. We gave each other that sheer nod and all I could utter was…Kambe! (bottoms up!) For a 10-minute coffee break, that was productive! But then again, that thought apparently insinuated sarcasm still.

I entered the office thinking about Kevin and discovered I know nothing of the man. To console him in my thoughts, I decided to agree to his most probable impression of me.

How boring could I be to Kevin now?