XUANYA is Chinese for cliff. I once heard from a wise man, that when you are pushed off a cliff, you either fall or you fly. I am not the cliff but you can call me Xuanya – I am Xuanya . And this is my story of climbing up the wall and seeing another road, when I thought it was already a dead end.
The breeze was cold in the early morning of November. I could smell the balmy odor of eucalyptus trees growing along the lonely highway. It was still a little dark but the brightness of the day was starting to flourish in the sky. On the window of the bus, I could see old women crating dried leaves in their yard while men had their plows on their shoulders. From a distance, I could see the arch welcoming everyone. Finally, I reached my point of destination. It’s nice to be back home.
It was a 10 hrs of travel from Manila to Ilocos but the place was worth the long journey. My hometown had a lot to offer for travelers like white sand beaches , windmills which is first in Southeast Asia ( I think), Hispanic architectures , old churches and bridges and of course good food. But I was not there for these. I was there to heal the wounds. I was there because I had realised, I had nowhere to go.
Meanwhile, as I moved closer to our house , I saw Nanay grazing our animals in the field near our humble house. Our house is situated in the middle of rice fields. It was the same house I left 4 yrs ago but it became older – roof turned brown and cracks became visible on the walls. Upon seeing me, Nanay approached and helped me carry my bags. “Kumusta anak”, she asked. I smiled. After all, she knew why I was home.
“Gising na, Dito na kuya nyo!!”, I heard my father waking my younger siblings. Then, they went to open my bags and I saw how disappointed they were to see nothing inside. It’s a good thing I had a pair of apples to compensate their letdown. For them, Manila was a land of bounty that whenever you come home, you have at least “ some” for them. But not that time. I didn’t want to come home empty handed but that’s all I could afford .
The memories were in the past but the pain is still haunting me up to the present.
I stayed in Ilocos for more than a year. I stopped going to college because my parents could't afford my tuition and my aunt won’t help me anymore. So, In the province, I again actualized how difficult life was. Ulam was unexpected until mealtime – depends on what was available in the farm. During rainy season, kangkong sprouted all over the field so we always had ulam on those days . Summer was tough because the land was dry. Sometimes, there were “lone egpplants” living in some areas that even an immature fruit needed to be picked just to have something for dinner.
Life was hard. Really hard. So I decided to go back to Manila to look for a job. My mother was against but I was able to convince her when I agreed to stay with our relative – but she didn’t know I lied. I didn’t want to go back to that place anymore. Her face was so worried when she accompanied me to the terminal. She handed me P3,000 she saved from her ice candy business(not really a business but Nanay sells ice candy, anyway). The bus started to move and passed my mother on her bike. I was crying inside.
This part of my life, this woeful moment of my life ignited a flame of thirst -a vision of a better life. I had to make myself believe that I can stop poverty in my family despite my inner doubts. I knew it was impossible because resources were lacking and in reality, self-motivation was not enough and will never be an assurance. But I have shown courage to my mother before I left. So I have to find that strength to stand up. No matter how difficult , no matter how impossible.
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