Disordered Displacement

[a reading of MAGNIFICENCE by Estrella D. Alfon]

A 20 year-old girl is lying on a couch and is directed to say whatever comes to mind.

I.
It all began when I finished my first grade in primary education. It was mother’s decision to send me out of our house in Cebu. She made arrangements with my aunt Aimee so I could live with them in Malabon, Rizal. And, she also enrolled me into Malabon Normal School, an all girl school run by Maryknoll nuns.

I could hardly remember my feelings on my first days in Luzon. But, I do remember crying every night after a few days. I guess I got sick of that place. It wasn’t the environment, everyone there had been very kind to me, specially aunt Aimee. She was my mother there.

Come to think about it, I hated my mother in my first few weeks there. I remember asking aunt Aimee why mother sent me away, she always had the same reason - she always said that the Maryknoll nuns were one of the best teachers in the country. I never knew exactly how mother felt those days, sending her daughter away and keeping her son with them. And I never tried to find out, I might have never understood, anyway.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate my brother. On the contrary, he might have been the main reason why I cried in those nights. I missed him so much and I didn’t really know why. To date, he is the only man I trust. I kept contact with him through letters. We wrote to each other every month. and I still have those letters with me, all of them had the words “stay safe” written on the end. Just like how my letters to him ended with the words “don’t ever leave me…” I always finished my letters to him that way. It was more like a need for me to write them, otherwise, I’d get this uneasy feeling in my heart, like I was anxious over something.

I even remember imagining that he was beside me in my jeepney rides. Oh, how I hate jeepney rides. The air there is so disgusting. Every time I ride a jeepney, I’d feel like I’m being suffocated by the stench of fresh sweat from pores dried with pomade. I always imagined my brother beside me, there to carry me if I fainted with disgust.

I hated my school. Those damn nuns kept on changing the location of the school - every year, different location. Perhaps my dislike towards my school was amplified by the way I was towards my school mates.

I never really got close to my elementary school mates. You could say that I was a bit of a “shoe gazer.” I never bothered looking at my schoolmates faces. Most of them came from the city, so I considered all of them boastful. I never realized that they were thinking the same way towards me.

I was the only girl using a pen. Others labeled me an “elitist,” since most of them used pencils. I used to love pencils, I even remember bugging someone for it. But I guess things change.

To hell with what they thought, anyway. I always considered myself a big girl. I never needed friends.