The memory started with the days when we were both working in a real estate company by 55th Street and 9th Avenue.   One day in July of 2012, we were reminiscing down memory lane when we were still working as auditors in a firm located on 50th Street and 7th Avenue three years before.  Then for some reasons I mentioned a name of a guy introduced to me by a common friend visiting from one of the Southern states.  Alden’s face lighted up with surprise and asked me if the guy lived in a specific address in the Eastern side of Manhattan.  He then said that he met this guy years ago in a chatroom in AOL called “gwm4gam” which is an acronym for gay white men for gay asian men.  Hmmmm….sounds familiar to me as I remembered I frequented this group site years ago myself.  Of course, I met some guys to date or for more in that site.  He then continued saying the guy invited him to meet up in a bar and by the end of the night he found himself spending passionate moments with this guy in his house in Manhattan overlooking East River.  He remembered the bedroom as well as the arrangement of the living room, the windows  with a view and the bathroom with specific architectural designs as he remembered taking a shower while asking himself “Why did I even sleep with this guy?”  He said to himself as the hot water splashes into his skin “There is definitely no second date with this guy.  Let alone sex with him.  This is one night only.”  Alden said he bid the guy goodbye and said his thank you for the lovely night dialogue.  “I am not spending a night in this house again with this guy”, he said to himself as the elevator was taking him down the lobby of the building.  No second helping of dessert as we would put it.  Alden even remembered the moments at the bar when this guy was telling him that he knew some people in Alden’s audit client at that time, who is now our mutual employer when this conversation occurred.  Not that this guy was super ugly or something but on the positive side Alden said the guy was well endowed but smell like some kind of sour milk with crooked teeth; so we decided to call him Mr. Cottage Cheese because of his distinctive scent.  The day after the first conversation occurred, I took Alden to a cash only restaurant by the name of Chai Thai.  After finishing our meal, I started with “I have to admit something to you.” His face looked surprised as if I have some kind of a deadly disease or life threatening event that I have to confess with.  He said “What happened?”  I told him that the guy we were talking about yesterday,Mr. Cottage Cheese, I actually slept with him as well.  His eyes opened wide as he quipped “WHAT?”  Yes, it is true.  That same guy he was describing yesterday is the very same guy I had a tryst once few years back and I don’t remember the exact date or year because like Alden it was not memorable for me to remember the details.  All I remember is that after meeting him in AOL chatroom we agreed to meet up in a bar by 47th Street.  The next thing I know I was a little bit tipsy and we took a cab to his apartment and spent passionate moments as well in the same bedroom that Alden has vividly described.  It was raining outside and the wind was howling but I remember the windows with the view and how he tried to show me the East River visible from the window.  Even the design of the bathroom were exactly as Alden has described to me.  What’s noticeable as well is the smell of the man like a milk curd, which fits our nickname for him of Mr. Cottage Cheese.  Like Alden I said to myself “I am not coming back to this house.  I am not going to see this guy ever again for a second helping.  This is just a one-night stand.”  After cleaning myself up in the bathroom I bid my goodbye to the man and made sure I carry my umbrella with me so there is no reason for him to call me to comeback to pick my umbrella up.  After all it was too cumbersome for me to go to Manhattan as I live in Jamaica Estates when it happened so it was more than an hour travel time via F train.  Come to think of it, now it occurred to me that I lived in Jamaica Estates from 2004 to early 2006, so it could have happened around that time.  Alden remarked “Oh My God! I can’t believe this.” We slept with the same man though at different times or years but what is the probability of us sleeping with the same guy.  What an impossible coincidence?  We then concluded that the Mr. Cottage Cheese is a slut who preyed on Asian boys and what are the chances that he also bedded other common Asian friends.   Unbelievable, we shared the same man at one point in our lives, though at different times.  Burst of laughters.

As we were sharing the fried ice cream dessert spoon after spoon, we realized it gives us the same burst of laughters the way we spoke about it the first time as it is now and every time we talk about it.  And now it gives us goosebumps wondering if another friend might have fallen for the same guy.  Well, not sure if I want to go to that direction.

As we exited the restaurant, we took another stroll at the end of 58th Street overlooking East River and back to 59th Street where we separated ways.  Well, we decided we will just bury this secret in the treasure chest forever.  Walking by myself going back to work I marveled at how bizarre some coincidences in life were, specially in the gay life because you never know who you will bump into one day, or who you will sleep with tonight and meet up in the street years after, or worse, discovered that the same person fell into the hands of another friend or acquaintance at some point in time.

Weird, right?

The mood in the bar was eclectic.  It was announced that there will be a Karaoke singing contest for the bar tenders and go-go boys.  Makes it more exciting since I am interested to see the go-go boys showing their singing talent aside from their provocative sexy moves inside the cage.  This showed the other side of these boys since they will sing in their normal clothes and not the sexy underwear.  “Easier to judge the talent without being swayed by the moves of their hips and pout of their lips” I said.  Not long enough it is getting crowded so Edwin and I got our drinks, cranberry vodka for me and a glass of Coke for Edwin, where both glasses were filled with more of the ice and not the actual drinks.  Well, for $10 a glass for me and $5 a glass for Edwin’s soda we thought how expensive these drinks are plus tip.  Soon we are gliding in the middle of the dance floor, dance after dance.  Even if we were dancing with each other Edwin and I made sure we give our best moves and occasionally we have some guys or girls joining us in our little corner.  After dancing to the tune of Whitney Houston’s “Try It on My Own” remix disco version I made a quick trip to the men’s room leaving Edwin on the side of the dance floor.  The restroom was dimly lit and the urinal attached to the wall was blocked by the black door of the small cubicle which make it difficult standing as you piss because your butt maybe hit by the door anytime somebody goes in or out of the cubicle.  I washed my hands but realized there is no soap to use.  Well, what the heck I am not the only one who did not wash my hand properly that night in the bar.  As I was coming down to the basement I chanced upon Edwin who was on the way up going to the restroom as well.  He signaled to me that he will be back when he is done.  I nodded and continued down.  While waiting for Edwin, the strobe lights going on and off flashed a shadow of a slender man who was making quick glances at me while he was dancing with another Asian man.  “He looked handsome” I said to myself although it was just a quick flash from the light so maybe not when it’s fully lighted.  As Edwin arrived, we were back to the dance floor and this time the man who was glancing at me was trying to dance close to me.  Few more moves and he is right in front of me.  Now he is whispering to me saying “You dance very well.”  He said his name is Joe while rubbing my back gently.  Next thing I remember, I was signaling to Edwin that Joe and I are going on the side to talk.  Edwin smiled and kept on dancing.  While Joe and I were trying to get know each other in the noisiest place that night he kept on inserting his index and middle fingers through the hole of my ripped jeans reaching for the back side that touches the edge of my underwear.  I felt a little tingling in my skin as he continued on.  We both decided that whispering nothings with the noise all around will not get us to knowing each other so we headed out of the bar.  Soon we were walking along Fifth Avenue heading south, his hands around my shoulder as he kept on whispering to me things about him.  He is Joseph Rigoletto, Italian descent and one of the partners in a firm that specialized in actuarial valuation.  “Ah, your company produces the reports that we use for the audit of pension plans” I said as he smiled knowing we have something in common as I said I am an auditor for a mid-sized audit firm.  He is in his late 40s while I said I was 37, “Perfect combination” he said.  We took a cab going downtown, “23rd Street and 9th Avenue” he told the driver.  He kept on sliding his fingers in the slivered part of my jeans as he smiled knowing I too enjoyed what he was doing.  We were greeted by the doorman but he decided to make a short trip to the laundry room so he can show me where he said he saw Nicole Kidman one time.  “So there are showbiz personalities living in this building?” I asked.  Yes, there is more.  But I will tell you more when we get to my apartment.  Laughters and tickles follow as we took the elevator to the 5th Floor.

He opened the door and invited me in.  I walked into a very neat house.  Off white leather sofa with big quilts resting on its shoulder, big book shelfs in either side, and a medium sized wooden dining table with brown chairs.  This guy has good taste.  Kitchen was very clean, no obvious sign of nightly cooking as there is not even a grain of crumb to spot.  He asked me if I wanted something to drink which I said only water for me so I can wash away the alcohol that I had in the bar.  “Good choice” he said.  “The same thing I want” he continued.  He excused himself to use the rest room while I finished my glass of water.  He sat beside me and I can smell the fresh breath from either brushing or from gargling with mint mouthwash.  I then excused myself and headed to the rest room to look for the same mouthwash to freshen my breath as well.  Soon we were kissing in the sofa.  His lips were soft and his tongue very sweet.  Now we are both enjoying having our face against each other and his right hand inside my ripped jeans with his two fingers playing with my butt crack and his left hand on my left cheek.  As for me, while his hands were allover me my right hand was gently rubbing his back as my left hand was trying to unbutton his pants.  Joe is very gentle but a very good kisser.  I felt a need to gasp for air as I rest my chin on his right shoulder after the long kisses.  Soon we were both shirtless he has his two hands pressing my face onto his chest as I gently bit his left nipple.  I licked the right nipple and bit on some strands of his chest hair as I moved my head slowly going down.  More hair to lick by his belly button as I zip his pants down exposing his pubic hair above his underwear.  This time the dim light is glistening the wet part of his gray underwear where the head of his tool is obviously pointing at.  He is really into a deep euphoria shining with his smiles.  He stood up and took my arms, kissed me again and start to walk me to the bedroom.  This time he knelt by the edge of the bed, released my belt and kissed my belly button; he looked up to me and smiled as he pulled my pants and my underwear down.   Soon I can feel his warm mouth on my weenie as his two hands were pressed up against my butt cheeks.  I could not help but moan loudly as I grab his hair like a bull by the head.  I don’t want to reach the peak right away so I threw in the bed.  I held him by the hips and started to lick the shiny spot of the underwear.  Now it is my turn to remove his underwear but I decided not just yet.  Instead I pulled the side of the underwear with my index finger and licked his groin from right to left.  Soon he was screaming from the warm breath and spit as I hardened my tongue with every stroke.  In my head I think I hit his special spot.  Few more screams from Joe as he pushed my face to his heated genital and it is now time to finally remove his underwear that is wet from my saliva and his sweat.  We made love over and over again as if that is the last night of the world.  By 3:30am we bid each other goodnight with kisses that put us to sleep with the white bed sheet soaked with warm sweat.

I was awakened by a kiss from Joe who was wearing his robe.  He has coffee for me by the bedside.  “Good morning” I said.  He kissed me again on my forehead and greeted me the same.  I thanked him for the coffee as he helped me get up.  We both agreed we had a good night sleep and now it is time to take a shower together.  We shared more of the sweet lovemaking in the shower and felt the pinnacle of glory once again.  We headed out to the Empire Diner by 10th Avenue and shared a breakfast of buttermilk pancakes, poached eggs and sausages.  After breakfast Joe took me to the train station where I took the E train to Queens plaza and transferred to an R train.

I met Edwin and Miss B at Most Precious Blood church for the 11:30am mass which was about to end when I got there.  I told them about Joe and both were delighted to hear the stories about another sexual conquest.  The work week was highlighted by a text message from Joe on Monday saying he is at home.  He has to call in sick due to stomach problem.  Soon I was using my office computer to send Yahoo chat messages to Joe and most of the SMS were sexual in nature enough reason for the IT Manager of the client come to me to tell me that personal chat and personal emails are not allowed in the client.  I quickly apologized and said I will shut the chat message off.  Before the IT manager left, he gave me a wink and smiled as he stepped out of the Board room where I was conducting my audits.  Since he was sick that day we decided to meet up for dinner the following night.  He took me to an opulent Italian restaurant boasting about his favorite Linguine All’Aragosta (linguini with lobster).  Joe treated me like a perfect gentleman and made sure I was well taken care of.  He took me to his house for a nightcap after the sumptuous dinner.  This time I told him I could not stay as I have training at the office in New Jersey on Wednesday.  Few kisses and off I went to go home to Astoria.

Joe and I went to see each other for two more dinners after and two more weekends after that week.  By the end of that month he invited me out again on a Friday and made sure I will have to stay with him for the weekend.  We spent more sensual moments together that Friday night till it was night time of Saturday.  He took me for a special dinner at Delmonico’s Kitchen where I had my very well done steak and wild bass for him.  The dinner was capped with coffee and tea at Joe’s apartment with kisses of course.  For some strange reason Joe seemed different that night, for beneath his smiles I can feel deep intense feeling.  Something is making him uncomfortable with occasional sighs.  He sat me by the sofa while I was holding my cup of tea.  He breathe deep and started to talk.  “Tomorrow, my mother is coming here with my sister and her children for lunch” he said.  “I have already ordered for catered food so there will be no stress of preparing food.  I want everyone to enjoy lunch and have a good time specially my mother” he continued.  He said “I want to introduce you to my mother; my only living parent.  My father passed away many years ago.”  “So what do you say?” he asked.  Well, what can I say?  I know my whole face went red as I can feel the warmth on my cheeks and the back of my ears.  I could not say a word, so I said “I have made plans already with my friend Edwin and Edine.  Can I confirm with you tomorrow morning?  I will speak to my friends if I can cancel with them then I will give you a call, is that okay?” I can see a bit of disappointment on his face though he tried to hide it.  He smiled and kissed me on my cheeks “Of course” he said.  But make sure you call me in the morning pressing me with a yes.  “Yes” I said.

That night instead of taking the train, I decided to take a cab so that I can breathe some fresh air through the open window of the yellow cab.  Many questions are running through my head.  Am I ready for a committed relationship?  Did I see or experienced enough of the single slutty life for me to be with someone on a permanent basis?  Is he going to be the one I would settle with?  Can I still meet up other guys before I decide to commit to someone?  I wanted to be sure that I am not going to ruin the relationship if ever I will be with somebody for a serious one especially if his family and friends are involved too.  Well, I decided it is too much pressure.  I am not sure and this is not the time to try it as I told myself that once I enter a serious relationship with someone I will give my whole life, heart and soul and I certainly don’t feel it now.  Maybe there is somebody out there for me in the future but not now.  I will know when the right time comes, when the right man comes.  I did not even wait for the cab to reach my apartment in 45th Street.  I quickly composed a text message that reads “Hi Joe.  You are a very nice guy and very lovable.  Any guy would be happy and proud to be in a relationship with someone like you: sweet, caring and very passionate. Unfortunately, I am not ready to be introduced to anyone’s mother.  Please do not take this against me.  I am not ready for a serious relationship at this time.  But I am flattered for your gesture to make me a part of your family.  Take care.- Eric”

As I was laying my head to my pillow I thought to myself “There it was.  I blew the chance with who could be my future boyfriend or a long time partner.”  I am not very young but I am not old either.  I think I still have few years left to play around, meet other guys, go to different places and get to the top of my career before I finally settle down with someone.  Well, what does the future hold for me?  Only God knows.  Am I going to find one who can put up with me or will I find someone I can put up with?  I don’t know.  For now, I will just dream about my future and the affair with Joe Rigoletto it’s just one to be treasured.

Well, I said goodbyes and have a good day to my mother as I shut the door.  I made it sure that I reminded her about my cooking class tonight so that she doesn’t have to wait for me for dinner and that she doesn’t have to wait for me to come home before she goes to bed.   I took a Manhattan bound N train and in about 15 to 20 minutes I was at the doorstep of our office building.  My bubbly side was on, I greeted everyone I see “good mornings” starting from the doormen to another accountant I was sharing my office room with and to the secretary who was always smiling.  I guess my excitement was all over my face thinking about the activity for tonight.  Too excited that all the financials I was working on was balanced.  By mid day, I was calling Terry in her office number to remind her that I will be meeting her at 6pm in front of her building by the new Apple store which she obliged.  All went well, and Alas everything that I was working on balanced.  The financial statements for May 2017 is ready for review by the senior controller.

Sur La Table is located at 57th Street between 8th and 9th Avenues.  I got reminded when I used to work for another real estate company by 9th Avenue.  Me and my friend Alden used to pass by Sur La Table and we always say maybe one day we should do it but never got the chance.  Now I am finally doing it, but with another friend, Terry.  We decided we will just walk from our meeting place to the venue since it is just a few avenues and a block and we will be there before the time which the lady I spoke to on the phone said when I register that it will start at exactly 7pm.  The lady said it will be advisable to be there maybe 15 minutes before the time since they may allow us to the cooking classroom by then.  It wasn’t a bad walk at all.  We were there at 6:30pm, way ahead and we still got another 30 minutes to spare since the girl in the store said they will let us in at exactly 7pm.  Terry and I had no choice but to breathe a sigh or gasp at everything that we looked on in the store.  We both said “everything here is so expensive”, although we were informed that students get 10% off any item we buy from the store.  We had our “oohs” and “ahhs” as we go through every section to see if there is anything we can buy.  But we were disappointed because their prices were not within our price range: a hand-painted  pumpkin baker for $100; a pizza stone for $30; an all-clad pasta pot for $99.95.  Even a set of 2 tiny ramekins was priced at $17.95.  I got excited to see a small round creme brûlée dish for $6, but I still felt it was expensive so we just decided to just walk around and marvel at their beautiful kitchen items since it was only about few minutes before 7pm.

We were seated in the front row together with a couple seated at the end by the left who were definitely either married or in a relationship.  Surprisingly, there was another lovey-dovey couple on the other end of the front row by the right.  After introductions by the teacher chef John, we were informed that a pitcher of water with lemon wedges was available at the back table for anyone who may thirst during the class.  We were divided in groups of 3 or 4 as we were told we will be working in groups.  Terry and I went to the closest table with 4 sets of knife and chopping board.  We smiled at the two ladies in front of us who were supposed to be our group mates.  The younger girl was named Melissa and the older woman who we thought was her mother, we just call her Madir, slang for mother.  The first of the Persian dishes was the appetizer of Fresh Herb and Leek Frittata.  The ingredients were divided among us as to who will chop it and we were instructed how to cut and chop the many ingredients.  We were complementing Melissa and Madir for nicely chopping the ingredients although they were simple ingredients that you normally chop in your kitchen: onions, parsley, dried berries, leeks and nuts.  After all the ingredients were mixed with the beaten eggs we gave the bowl to chef John’s assistant to be lightly fried and put in the oven for  about 15 minutes.  The second dish was Chopped Cucumber and Tomato salad with Fresh Mint.  Again, we divided the ingredients to be cut and chopped, but since it is a salad we were told to taste it so this time we did not complement Madir anymore because the salad lacks salt and pepper so Terry and I added more of these two ingredients.  We were then handed with slices of the frittata and some salad to go with it.  The dishes were very delicious.

The third and the fourth dishes were done simultaneously: Jeweled Basmati Pilaf and Grilled Saffron Chicken Kabobs.  The ingredients for the rice pilaf  were divided among the groups since there were a total of 20 ingredients to be used.  Once all of them were cut and chopped, they were all handed over to chef John and he showed us how they were added to the dish batch by batch.  As the rice and some ingredients were simmering we were back to our own group again to make the kabobs.  We were told a bit of trivia by informing us that Saffron is one of the most expensive ingredient in a Persian dish.  As the saffron, the yogurt and the rest of the other ingredients for the marinate were mixed we were told to put it in a ziplock bag and toss the chicken in it.  Then were told to close the lid with air and massage the chicken in the yogurt marinate mixture.  While I was enjoying massaging the chicken, Madir asked me if I am a doctor.  I said “No, I am an accountant.  Why do you ask?”  She said that because of the way I handled the chicken and the way I handled the knife she thought I was a doctor.  I wished I am but medical school is the most expensive school to get into.  We were given 10 minutes for bathroom breaks and class break.  By the time we were back, we were instructed to thread the pieces of chicken in as many skewers as we can.  Then we started grilling each piece of sticks as the smell of the rice pilaf was getting stronger and made everyone excited to try the main course dishes.  Few more minutes and the barbecued chicken were done as well as the rice pilaf.  Each group was given a bowl of rice pilaf to go with our grilled kabobs.  We all felt very satisfied with the sumptuous dinner that we made and ate to our heart’s content.

The last dish was a dessert of Cream Puffs with Rose and Pistachio Cream.  We were shown how to make the Rose and Pistachio cream and everyone was asked to try it with a small spoon.  One girl did not like the taste and was in hurry to go the ladies’ room to spit it out.  When it was my turn to try it, I was amazingly surprised that it actually tasted good to me.  Very soothing and soft cream that was not very sweet at all.  I enjoyed tasting it more than twice.  The pastry was pre-made by chef John so were just instructed to open the cream puffs and fill the empty middle part with the delicious cream.  The dessert as well as the glass of water with lemon capped the night for the class.

While we were gathering our things to prepare for the close of the evening, I got a bit of sadness.   I thought to myself, if only my husband is here with me I am sure we will surely enjoy it since we both like cooking.  But I breathe a sigh, he is gone.  Not sure if we will still have a chance for another shot at our marriage.  I had a bit of regret that we did not have the chance to enjoy each other’s company as much as we can.  But that is how life is…cruel sometimes!  I cannot blame anybody, not even myself.  I just wish my anxiety will go away.  Before we left the store, Terry decided to buy a bottle of extra virgin olive oil with her 10% discount.  While we were walking, my worrying mind was replaced by another thought: I smell like a middle eastern dish and I will be taking the subway home to Astoria.  We were laughing at the thought and how I wish I brought a cologne to mask the smell.  Well, sorry to my co-passengers going to Astoria.  They were all treated to the scent of my chicken kabobs, rice pilaf and herbs frittata all over my hair and my shirt.  Enjoy!!!

Edwin and Ernie , promised to come at 6am so they can help me prepare breakfast of tocino (Filipino cured ham), longganisa (cured sausage), fried eggs, coffee, tea and sliced bread.  Mind you, because the Philippines is so thirsty for the crown, not just the Miss World crown but any crown for that matter, everyone is very eager to come and watch the pageant even if they have to wake up early on a Saturday morning.  As one friend quipped “for the Philippines”, we should give our support.   As we were finished cooking the breakfast Ernie started lining the dining table with red and blue placemats where we placed the cooked meats, eggs, bread, butter and jam.  He also stacked the paper plates, paper cups, plastic spoons and forks on one side of the table.  By 6:45am, the first guest arrived.  It was Walter, with his litany of how he has to wake up at 5:30 so he can prepare to go since he is coming from Manhattan compared to most of the other friends who live in Queens and he has to leave his husband behind to tend for himself when he wakes up.  Of course, Walter wanted to start with breakfast since he is so hungry and so were we, so we decided to eat right there and then and anybody who came after can eat breakfast when they arrived.  Soon, one by one gay and girl friends arrived complementing us how delicious breakfast was and sat patiently to wait for the pageant.  There were Alden, Jenny, Roxy and Jackie.  One particular guest expressed his dissatisfaction as he was eating.  Of course, it was Jopet, displeased that he was eating tocino and longganisa without fried rice but with bread.  He was not fond of the sliced bread with such tasty meat and could not contain his disappointment.  I have to reason that the rice is reserved for lunch after the pageant where it has to be eaten with Pork Binagoongan (Pork in Shrimp Paste), Fried Chinese Eggplant and Ginataang Mackerel (Mackerel in Coconut Milk).  Well, he has no choice but to accept my explanation.  I said to myself, I am the host so they have to follow: my house, my rules! while I have a bit of a laugh inside me.

By 8am, the primer that preceded that pageant was over.  Everyone was so quiet as the opening program unfolded.  Screams and claps roar in the apartment whenever Miss Philippines appeared on screen.  Each portion of the pageant was shown on video one by one with each activity explained as part of the judging process.  The Philippines’ representative for that year was a known actress in the Philippines by the name of Megan Young.  She was 23 years old who was born in the US but moved to the Philippines when she was 10 years old.  All the friends agreed that she is a strong candidate for the crown so there were high hopes that morning for what could be the country’s first Miss World title and crown, after all  the pageant has been held for 62 years and never once a Filipino won it.  Since Indonesia is close to the Philippines about 4 hours plane ride from Manila, many Filipinos travelled to the tropical island of Bali to witness history about to unfold.  There were about 127 countries represented by each candidate so the stakes are high.  With Indonesia being a Muslim country, the organizers decided to forego the swimsuit portion of the pageant due to threats from Islamic Defenders Front of disrupting the contest because its members say it shows too much skin and is against the Islamic teachings.   Instead a more subtle way of showcasing the girls with the conservative sarongs were held and the pageant was moved from the original venue in Jakarta to the Hindu dominated resort island of Bali.  The security was heightened where thousands of police personnel were deployed to ensure the safety of those who will participate in whatever capacity, either contestants, judges, or spectators.  Over 30 minutes after the show started, finally the girls were brought out in their evening gowns and was introduced one by one with Philippines having the loudest cheers, apart from the host country Indonesia, on screen and in the heart of my living room which caused a bit of worry for me that the couple below might complain or knock on my door.  Everyone was so excited to learn that Miss Philippines has her solo number in the dances of the world, an annual production number showcasing the cultural dance of selected countries with each lady in her traditional dance costume.  Of course the inside news about Miss Philippines came from an inside information by Ernie who has a close tie with some of the Philippine organizers.  Rapturous applause came as soon as Miss Philippines appeared on screen in her traditional Sarimanok (Philippine rooster) costume as the light was deemed and all the girls are just standing motionless as Megan Young was dancing.  By the middle of the program, at last the first cut was made announcing the top 10 semi-finalists from 10th to the highest scorer: Ghana, Jamaica, Spain, Indonesia, England, Nepal, France, Australia, Brazil and of course the top contender, the Philippines, with more uproar going in as my guests are going gaga over the excitement.  A few more production numbers and commercials then the top 5 finalists were revealed: France, Philippines, Ghana, Brazil and Spain; but with the special appearance of the People’s Choice awardee who happened to be Miss Gibraltar to proceed answering the final question of “Why should you be Miss World 2013?” in order of their announcement as a finalist.  First was France, then next is Philippines.  A small glitch on the video presentation prompted the host to comment that Miss Philippines has a lot of supporters there which Megan Young gleefully answered with “I brought half of my country here” which made the crowd go wildly.  Then now her turn to answer the final question that might have sealed the deal as she answered with a mellow voice and smile on her face: “Salamat Malam Indonesia.  And Miss World for me treasures the core values of humanity and that guides them to understanding people, why they act the way that they do, how they live in their lives.  I will use these core values in my understanding not only in helping others but to show other people how they can understand others, to help others so that together as one we shall help the society.”  That was more than enough to cause a big round of uproar and cheers in the house where we did not even mind the answers of the remaining four finalists.  All we know is that a crown is shining beneath the head of Miss Philippines and we can’t wait till they announce the winner soon.  We were oblivious of what was going on in the stage and did not even realize that Miss Brazil used an interpreter to translate her answer.  Then few more commercials and the screen showed Megan Young’s mother being interviewed by the male host and she said that the biggest advice she gave her was “Be kind.  You can never go wrong with kindness.”  Then more of excited sighs as we took it as a hint that she might be the next Miss World.  And now the final moment, Alden made sure everyone is holding the hand of the gay friend next to each other as if we were the finalists ourselves, Julia Morley was on center stage to announce the winners starting off with the third placer Ghana, then second place and runner up to Miss World was France.  Finally she announced “and the winner of Miss World 2013 is….drum rolls, Philippines!”  My house was about to collapse from all the screaming, jumping, cheering and stomping had I not reminded everybody that there are people living below me.  The Philippine’s long wait for a Miss World crown was finally over winning the 63rd edition of the pageant.  Sixty two years in the making but it was all worth it.  You can see some people in the TV screen crying with tears of joy for the Philippines, while my friends in my apartment could not contain their excitement and jubilation for what has just transpired.  It was noontime so we started serving the lunch with one very happy camper, Jopet, who has been wanting to eat rice since early in the morning.  Finally, he gets his center seat on the dining table to dig in the pork  dish, fried eggplant and the fish.  Everyone was satisfied to their heart’s content.

Some friends stayed for few hours after lunch while Edwin and Ernie helped me with the dishes.  We have decided to watch videos of Filipino movies on You Tube as well as an episode of one of the favorite drama program called Maalaala Mo Kaya (Will You Remember?).  After watching the TV program episode an argument erupted with laughters when the supposed title of the episode was Pulang Laso (translated in English as “Red Ribbon”) was repeated by Bobby, who was a latecomer, as Lasong Pula (translated in English as “Red Poison”).  It was enough to send everyone home bursting in laughters as this seemed to be a familiar situation with Bobby making his silly and funny lines.  Off they go with smiles in their faces…Miss World 2013 is Philippines!!!

You can watch the full show by clicking the following You-tube link (video credits to You Tube):

I was coming out of my therapy session.  Realizing it was only 7pm and the sun was still out I decided to call my dentist friend Germainne and agreed to stop by her clinic so we can have dinner.  “Helloooo!” with her usual high pitch greeting on the phone.  I told her about stopping by her clinic to invite her out for dinner.  “Of course” she replied.  She said she will be waiting for me so I hurried up and walk to the nearest train station.  I took a downtown 6 train from 51st Street station and got off at Grand Central to walk a few blocks to Germainne’s clinic. While I was walking on 3rd Avenue along 39th Street, I happened to notice a familiar face.  It was one of the clinic assistants but she looked worried as she walked past me.  Oh well, she is probably in a hurry to get home so I did not bother to approach her to say hello.  As soon as I got in the clinic Germainne and I said our “hi’s” and gave our cheek-to-cheek kisses.  I told her to start working on her paper works so we can leave for dinner in no time.  While she was scanning insurance claims I told her I bought a new music from iTunes.  It is an old song from Anne Murray titled ” I Just Fall In Love Again”, which is the theme music of the Filipino movie I just watched two weekends ago with Jenny, Roxy and my mother entitled “Finally Found Someone” starring Sarah Geronimo and John Lloyd Cruz, two of the famous movie stars in the Philippines.  By the time the song ended she was ready to go so we walked out and decided to just walk to Koreatown for dinner at a food court.

We ended up going to the Food Gallery 32 by Koreatown after a  long time discussing where to eat while we were walking.  I could not decide what I wanted to eat so I roamed around the area which was already my second time as I went there previously after watching the Filipino movie.  Germainne decided to get a bowl of noodle soup while I get back and forth from one barbecue stall to another until I finally decided I will just get a crepe with some chinese sausage and will pair it with a cold glass of taro bubble tea.  As I was taking a bite of the crepe I got reminded of our glory days in Burundi and a couple of funny stories about food came into my mind.  “Oh, how funny they were: steak and crepe” I said to myself as I continued devouring my meal.  Burundi is a country in East Africa where I started my career in humanitarian work.  Its capital is Bujumbura where our main office and communal housing is located although we have operations in three of its provinces: Rutana, Muyinga and Muramvya.

Flashback number one, we were coming from work and decided to just go out and have some dinner instead of cooking in the house.  It was 7:30pm and me and my friend Violet were so hungry so we decided to drive by the restaurant called Chez Andre.  I ordered for grilled fish and vegetable minus the Piri Piri (a hot sauce famous in Burundi) while Violet wanted to be adventurous that night and ordered a dish which we were not familiar with.  And Burundi being a French colony she opted for something unfamiliar called Steak Tartare.  I said to myself “I am excited for her”.  My dish came out first and it looked good while we waited for Violet’s food which came few minutes after.  To our surprise it was big plate of raw ground beef in a round shape with fresh egg yolk on top with a side of capers, pickled veggies and slices of french bread.  Violet whispered to me “Mega, how can I eat it? It is raw”.  I said we can ask the waiter who apologetically explained that it is really served raw.  Not being able to eat raw meat, we said to the server to just put the dish in a takeaway box and we ordered a burger instead for Violet.  That night, we agreed that the morning after we will cook the ground beef with vegetables and soy sauce and eat it with rice, of course.  Violet promised not to be adventurous anymore with her food and vowed we will ask the waiter first for any french dish that we will order in the future.

Flashback number two, one night after eating dinner of steamed rice and Pork Adobo (pork cooked in marinate of soy sauce, vinegar, bay leaves, pepper, garlic and onions) we were sitting at the verandah of our 8-bedroom mansion in Bujumbura overlooking Uvira in Congo.  It was about 7:30 pm Friday night and we thought it was still early for a dessert in a nearby restaurant.  There was me, Violet and Paloma, an American nurse who serves as the program officer of the mission in Burundi.  I took the car out of the garage and drove the three of us to Cercle Nautique du Bujumbura, a restaurant known for its nice view because it is situated next to Lake Tangayika where during early morning or late afternoon you can be blessed with sights of the hippos swimming and playing in the lake.  It was evening and we were sure that even if the hippos are playing in the lake we will not see anything because it is so dark outside of the restaurant; we were only after the desserts anyway.  I parked the car by the side and we headed directly to the dining area.  As we browse through the menu, I thought I will just order something light so I decided for a slice of Creme Caramel (Custard Plan in Caramel Sauce) for me and two scoops of banana split for Paloma.  Having been oblivious of the incident in Chez Andre few months before, Violet chose Crepe Flambe and this time she asked Paloma about the dish which she obliged to explain as a very thin layer of dessert pancake folded in quarters and heated in a sauce of orange-flavored liqueur served in flame.  This got Violet very excited as we talked about the day’s events in the office which we always make fun of since there are so many things going on that when you stand back and think about it you will always burst into laughter and you will forget the stress that goes with it.  Soon right before the dessert was served Paloma excused herself to go to the ladies’ room while me and Violet were so looking forward to the arrival of the sweets.  Another second and Presto! the desserts are being served on the table: ice cream for Paloma, creme caramel for me and finally Violet’s crepe flambe.  Soon, I was slitting the center of my creme caramel as Violet’s crepe was still in flames.  Few more seconds and the waiter was back at our side asking if everything is okay but Violet kept on whispering to me in our native Filipino dialect about how the flames are not dying out of her dessert.  The poor waiter feeling guilty about the fire on the crepe took it upon himself to lean from behind Violet’s shoulder and blow the fire and smile as if telling Violet “you can now eat your dessert.”  Yippee! the fire was gone, but Violet was not happy and I was so shocked.  I could not contain my amusement and I laughed so hard I could not stop it prompting Paloma to ask about the object of my unending laughters.  When I told the story to Paloma, she could not stop laughing as well while Violet expressed dissatisfaction and did not know what to do if she will start eating her dessert or not.  Paloma then stated that “the simplest disease you can get out of it is tuberculosis” and that was enough to give Violet the creeps.  Paloma continued on “then there is meningitis, flu, herpes and the list goes on and on”.  As stressful as it felt, Violet decided she is not eating her dessert but will have it in a takeaway box for home as I offered to share my creme caramel and Paloma offered her ice cream to her.  On the way out, we took the bag of dessert and thanked the waiter who gave us his best smile as he held the door for us.  We all burst in laughters when Violet screamingly asked me to stop the car by the nearest garbage can as she can no longer resist the temptation of tossing out the crepe flambe that ruined her evening.  Paloma and I are in unison saying “No more fancy desserts for you from now on!”  Then more laughters erupted inside the car.

Oh, how time flies! Years after, we are all in different parts of the world now working in various fields.  I wonder if Violet still fancy for Steak Tartare or Crepe Flambe where she is now?  Or if she even remember them?  I hope she learned from these experiences in Burundi because Paloma and I will never be able to get over them.

It was a chilly morning of March the 3rd.  I woke up feeling restless from tossing and turning during the night.  It felt like the whole world is on my shoulders and my head is about to break from the most excruciating headache.  Today is the day.  How do you say goodbye to a man you love and have known for more than 3 years?  How will you set free of someone you have shared three precious times of togetherness and separation as lovers and enemies until you got engaged on the last approach? How do you bid adieu to the person you have vowed to be the last and the only man in your life from the moment he proposed to you until forever?  How do you let go of the husband you got married twice to: first through a wedding officiant in Goshen, New York on December 27, 2014 and second through a minister in front of our families and friends by the shores of Lake Ontario in Henderson, New York on June 6, 2015?  I got reminded of the moment that fateful morning three days ago when he said his best friend’s wife is coming on Wednesday to help him pack his things and he is leaving me on Friday, which unfortunately is today.  Just like that, my whole world crumbled.  This feeling of restlessness and anxiety has been lingering on since the beginning of February where a simple misunderstanding, one stupid fight turned into a separation that broke the somewhat peaceful married life we both used to enjoy.

I got out of the bedroom to find out that Ulrich was in the bathroom taking a shower while Petra, the wife of Ulrich’s best friend Lizzy, who was there to help with packing was having coffee in the living room that is covered by either boxes, frames or every single personal property that belongs to my husband.  “Good morning” I said to Petra who responded with the same greeting.  I excused myself and headed to the kitchen as I passed by my altar looking up at the image of Christ the King on the wall by the hallway praying to myself “Lord, please let this be just a nightmare that I can wake up from.”  I was pinching my arm as if trying to wake up from a grim horror that has interrupted my goodnight sleep only that I am already awake.  I slid a piece of San Francisco Bay French Roast K-cup in the Keurig coffeemaker slot and as I was stirring the creamer and sugar in the mug there came Ulrich greeting me good morning.  He told me “I already installed the spice rack that Uncle Raymond has gifted to us for Christmas and I hope you will like it.  I tried my best to fit it by the side of the fridge and I hope it will be easier for you to pick the spices by the other end.”  I was holding back tears when I said “Thank you.”  I also thanked him for the coffeemaker that he bought for me as he was carrying the bigger coffeemaker when he leaves tonight.  I could not find anything to eat and I did not even bother to look for something as I have no appetite due to the impending evil that is about to bite me by the end of the day.  I finished sipping my coffee and decided to just take a shower instead.  Every move is calculated and every second is precious to me as it feels like my life is about to end.  Ulrich is my life and the love of my life.  I vowed to him that I will even lay down my life for him.  Now that he is about to depart what would my life be?  How can I survive?  How do you fight for the love of your life who does not want to be fought for?  Where are the sacred vows we made to each other when we got married?  As the water falls from the shower head every single drop reminds me of every second I spent with Ulrich: from the first time I laid eyes on him from the corner of LIRR Jamaica station smoking his cigarette, to the moments we shared touring the Thousand Islands that separates the US and Canada, to the surprise proposal he made in the heart of Grand Central station, to the tears he shed when I sang my wedding vow to him during the outdoor wedding, to the smiles he flashed while we were enjoying the trip to Disneyland in Hong Kong, up to the last time he smiled at me after we made love coming back from the Philippines.  Sob after sob as my two palms were pushing the white tiles of the walls above the tub.  If only I can bring back the hands of time I will change the scenario and make everything rosy.  Why does it have to happen to me? Why me Oh God?  Did I do something bad?  Was I a bad person?  Did I mistreat anybody? Is there something wrong that I did in the past and is this a punishment?  So many questions but there is no answer.  I came out of the shower restless with runny nose and teary eyes.

I patted myself dry and started choosing my office clothes.  Ah, it is Friday today so I can wear jeans and polo shirt.  I put a dark blue shirt on and slipped my hips into a faded pair of jeans.  When I came out of the bedroom, Petra told me that Ulrich is downstairs making phone calls in his car as he has scheduled interviews for assessors they were hiring.  I went to the hallway to grab my shoes and headed back to the living room while Petra was watching the news on TV.  As I was tying my shoe lace Petra asked me “How are you feeling?”  I could not hide it any longer I told her “I am trying to be calm.  But when Ulrich was talking to me in the kitchen I thought I would break down so I tried to get a hold of myself.”  She sat by my side on the love seat and pat my shoulder saying “You can do it.  You are strong and keep on praying.  Be strong.”  Those words were more than enough to send me wailing as loud as I can as she hugged me so tight while tapping my back saying “You will be fine. You are not the only one going through a separation.  I also went through the same situation with my ex-husband.  I was able to survive and so can you.”  Very strong words while I sob after sob and wail after wail with my head on Petra’s left shoulder.  When I turned calm Petra took my hand and said “You will get through this.  Just be strong.”  I tried to compose myself and turned quickly to the bathroom to wash my face and at least erase the visible evidence of tears though I realized crying all night and morning have turned my face like bruised.  I took my office bag and said my goodbyes and see you later to Petra.

As I was riding the N train to Manhattan, memory after memory filled my head.  I wanted to scream to the top of my lungs but I kept my composure.  I was telling myself “It is better I am standing.  At least I can make movements and it will give me the chance to see the view from outside instead of sitting steadily in the the train seat.”  I scanned through every building, every roof, everything I can keep my eyes on as the train moves from station to station until we left Queensboro Plaza where there is no more view of the outdoor but the black walls of the tunnel connecting Queens to Manhattan.  When I got to my stop at 59th Street and Fifth Avenue it felt like I could no longer contain my loneliness so I wipe my eyes every time I would feel that a tear is about to drop.  By the time I reached the 16th floor of my building I felt the urgency to just let my emotions out so I dropped my bags under my computer table and ran to the men’s room.  More and more tears flowed through my eyes while I wept quietly in the bathroom cubicle for fear that another man might hear me sobbing.  After the last person has left the men’s room I came out of my cubicle and quickly washed my face and eyes and headed back to my room.

By 2pm still with no appetite for lunch, I sent a text message to Ulrich saying we have to go to the Chase bank branch by the 30th Avenue train station so we can have his name stricken out of our joint account.  He replied back saying we can do it but if there is no time he can comeback another time for it.  I have to tell him that there is no another time because I might go home to the Philippines soon.  In my text message I also mentioned to him about the possibility of me cutting his insurance off so he has to start requesting his company to enroll him by April 1 as well as leaving his house keys in the bowl by the altar when he leaves.  Every moment feels like I am running against it and every hour passed by like a second.  I decided to eat a cup of peach flavored yoghurt just before 5pm so I have something in my stomach.

When I entered my apartment building, I felt a sudden grief and the elevator flight to fourth floor felt like a trip to my grave.  As I got out of the elevator I was welcomed by boxes on top of each other and frames lined up by the wall.  Ulrich said hello as I opened the door so I signaled to him it was about time to go to the bank.  I waved smiling at Petra before we left.  While we were walking Ulrich expressed his disappointment at the thought of cutting his insurance off.  “Why did you decide about cutting my insurance off without even telling me about it?  Didn’t you know it is a life changing event and I am the one who has a lot of need for the medical care so not having insurance is like cutting my life as well?”  He continued “If this is your way of cutting ties with me then this is unfair.”  I could not say anything for fear that I will either wail loudly or cry bitterly.  I just looked at him and nodded.  In my head a voice is crying out “Well, what about you leaving me? Isn’t this enough as a life changing event as well for me and I have no real clue why you are leaving me?  Did you know that you mean everything to me and that you are my life and now you are taking that life away from me? I know I am not perfect but who the hell gave you the right to just walk away from me without even trying to work our differences out? You are the only family I got and the only one I have here in the US, why do you have to abandon me? Why was it so easy for you to give up on us? We did not even try marriage counseling.”  I could not find the courage to blurt it out because I do not want to cause a scandal as we were entering the bank.  We managed to settle everything with the bank and soon we were back on the street going back home but this time it was a deafening silence between me and Ulrich with no words coming out of either mouth.

“Well, time to start loading the things to the car” Ulrich said to Petra as soon as we enter the door.  Ulrich turned back to me as he noticed the obvious sadness on my face.  He said “This is why I want you to stay at Jopet’s house today until we have left”.  I gave him a smile and said assuringly “Don’t worry about me.  I will be fine.”  I walked to the bedroom as I heard the door closed slowly as the two were heading out.  I sat by the small couch by the wall facing the window.  There I can see the sun light slowly fading from pale orange to a shade of peach and gray.  Tears flowing down my face as I feel the walls closing in on me and moment by moment my married life is slowly fading away.  One thing came back to my memory.  I remembered the day when we buried my father as we were standing by the grave the sky changed the color from pale orange to shades of peach and gray until it was almost dark signaling it is the end of the last day we will see my father in the flesh and after that it will only be memories of him but no physical presence.  Grief enveloped my whole body, sob after sob, tear after tear profusely flowing down my cheeks.  That is what I feel now at this very moment.  My marriage is about to die and today is the burial date, March 3, 2017.  I wish I can still hold and take it back before it get swallowed by eternity.  But how?  Ulrich is determined to leave me, if not he would have not packed his things.  As soon as they finished loading everything to the car, Ulrich came back and asked me if I noticed anything else that he missed packing.  I could not face him or even give him an answer because I don’t want him to see me in my condition: hopeless, sad, and grieving.  He sat by the bedside facing me and said “I am sorry.  You will be fine”.  I started crying again and in a loud voice I said ” Do you know what I feel now?  I feel the same feeling I had the day we buried my father.  I feel like you are going away and not coming back.  The only difference is he is gone forever but you are alive only far away from me.”  He sat by the edge of the couch by my side and put his arm around my neck and hugged me so tight as I cried on his shoulders.  The next moments were filled with noise from Lizzy, who drove from Fulton to help her best friend and her wife, coming in to use the bathroom.  When she came out of the bathroom I gave her a hug and we started talking while Petra was approaching.  I could no longer say any word so I just hugged Lizzy and Petra and just said “Thank you for everything.”  Soon they were off to go to dinner at the BBQ restaurant by 30th Avenue before they start their journey to Ulrich’s parents’ house in Upstate New York.

As soon as they left, Terry and Alden came by to my apartment to give me their support as I repeated the story of what happened few minutes ago.  We all decided we will go to Tito Rad’s in Woodside for dinner.  We tried not to discuss the story over dinner because we agreed it will not be good for appetite.  After dinner, we all took the Manhattan bound 7 train where Alden and I got off at the Queensboro Plaza station to connect to the N train going to my house while Terry took it straight to Times Square to connect to her bus to New Jersey.  Alden knew I was having anxiety entering the door of an empty house so he took the N train with me saying “I know it is difficult for you to enter the door knowing it is empty inside so this is what I am going to do: We will enter the door together so you won’t feel alone coming in.  I’ll stay for a little bit then I will leave when you feel comfortable to be left by yourself. Okay?”  As soon as we got home, Alden gave me more comforting words and after assuring me that things will be alright in time, he bid me goodbye and left.  Even saying goodbye to Alden was difficult for me so I just said “Goodnight and thank you for everything” as I was holding back tears because he has been so worried about me ever since I broke the news of the separation to him.

Being alone now, I have the to face the harsh reality.  Saying goodbye to a loved one who died like my father was very painful as if getting inflicted with a deep wound that you know it will take ages to heal and it leaves a mark in our heart that can never be erased.  But I realized that saying goodbye to your spouse as he leaves you is more heart wrenching as if half of your being was cut, taken away from you and you are not whole anymore.  It felt like a thousand knives were stuck on your chest and only passing time can remove it one by one.  Goodbye may be the saddest word, but I know that for every goodbye there is a hello awaiting by the dawn of time only that I don’t know when.  As for mine, the nine hundred ninety nine knives are still here in my chest waiting to be plucked.  Time to go to bed, though I know it will be very difficult to sleep for I know when I wake up reality of being alone is going to slap me.  My head is spinning and I kept on asking “How can I claim back the life that was stolen from me today?”  It feels like as though part of me just died, or may be the best part of me, leaving a hole in my stomach.  I have to force myself to sleep now.  In a fetal position with my two hands clasped against each other and tears in my eyes I told myself “No good night for me”, for I know that his absence will be a terrible ache every waking morning.

I contracted a mover recommended by Jovita, the loud mouthed friend who was able to convince me with her words “This mover and his guys are the best.  I used him for my move to my apartment and I was so pleased” as she dictated the contact number to me.  The move from Jamaica to Astoria was scheduled on a nice February Saturday of 2006.  There was no sun light but there is no storm either.  It was like as if the sun was hidden behind thick white clouds.  I had early visitors to help me with the move.  There was Jenny and Roxy, who have always been there for me whenever I am in a situation that needs a hand or times when I just needed a presence of a good friend.  “We brought some donuts here” they said.  “We can have some breakfast first before we start the move”.  I made a pitcher of coffee enough for the movers to partake as well.  The mover made sure that all my belongings, including my numerous shoes, were fitted into a big van they had parked in front of the building.  Not enough seats for passengers in the van so Jenny suggested I just call a taxi company for a car that will take us to Astoria.   In no time we were in front of the house on 45th Street as the van was coming in from behind.  It was about 10am when we started taking the first box in.  I was handed a box that contains a small container of rice, a small container of sugar, a small container of salt, a few strands of palm leaves from Easter, a couple of white candles and a statue of baby Jesus, all courtesy of Jenny and Roxy as a good luck presents for the new house.   “It should be the first things that should be taken in to the house.  To protect you and have a good luck in your new abode” Jenny reminded me.  And I should be the one to carry the box of goodies, I call it, as I am the occupant of the house.  I still think we did a round of prayers such as Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be as soon as we enter the house.

One by one boxes were lifted and transported to the top floor of the three story house.  Jenny and Roxy made sure that they were placed nicely in every corner to be unpacked soon as the movers are finished with the last piece of my personal property.  It was time to take the entertainment center in while we are moving some boxes and chairs around the dining area.  There was a commotion by the staircase as Jenny came over to inform me.  “They kept on trying to carry the entertainment center but it doesn’t seem to fit the width of the staircase” she said.  “I was suggesting they should dismantle it into pieces and re-assemble it when inside the house but they seem to be stubborn lads” she continued complainingly.  I insisted to the contractor about our concern with the furniture but I was given a cold shoulder and was told that they know what they were doing.  Soon we thought that getting into each other’s nerves does not help and it was time for lunch as it was getting near to quarter before 1pm.  Jenny and Roxy accompanied me to the Chinese restaurant by Broadway to get orders of Fried Chicken Wings with Fried Rice and Boneless Spare Ribs with Fried Rice.  For an unknown reason, we always find comfort in eating Chinese food whenever the situation is so stressful.  And not even half an hour after lunch another argument erupted.  This time it is the living room set that is in danger of being separated from its family.  Unfortunately the sofa would not fit through the door.  The two assistants and the contractor tried all sorts of tricks and positions to gain entry through the uncooperative door but to no avail.  After giving up, the contractor was able to convince me that it is now time to say goodbye to my sofa.  “At least you have the love seat for you to sit on as you try to get a new sofa that will fit through the door” he said to me when I was already disappointed because Jenny and Roxy found out that although the two assistants were able to get the entertainment center inside the living room it was ascertained that it is no longer sturdy to withstand the weight of the 40 inch TV, VCR, DVD player and stereo system that were previously housed in it.  “There was no other choice” I told Jenny and Roxy.  I had to send the sofa back to the van together with the two small couches that go with it.  “I will just buy a new love seat that will match the other love seat that made it through the door” I said to the two girls.  “Don’t worry we will help you choose the new furniture when you are settled” the girls assuringly said to me.  Soon the last furniture was re-assembled, “At last later tonight I have a bed to lay in after a grueling day” I breathe a sigh of relief.

It took me a nightly ritual of opening boxes and putting things in the cupboard to tidy up the house, of course with the help of weekend visits from Miss B and Edwin who also provided me with pairs of ears listening to my complaints of how difficult it is to move and my vow not move to another place until after two years at least.  Two weeks since my move in the new apartment, true to what they promised Jenny and Roxy took me to Close Out Paradise by 48th Street and Northern Boulevard.  I was surprised to find out that not only I was able to get the love seat to match the other love seat in my living room but I was also able to buy an air conditioner and a glass TV stand in the same store.  The store supervisor promised us that they will be able to deliver the furniture and AC to my house that same day but after his shift between 6:30pm and 7pm.  Well, it is only 5pm so it did not take that long for us to take a trip to an inviting next door restaurant called Grand Buffet for an endless feast of Chinese food, yet again after two weeks.  After all, the new apartment is just walking distance in less than 10 minutes.  We will be home soon before they make the delivery.  Soon, Roxy and Jenny were in my living room drinking water while I put the TV on for our weekend dose of a Filipino TV program.  At quarter before seven, we heard the noise of the buzzer signaling the arrival of my goods and the men who will install them.  I was greeted by the nice smile of an African gentleman who helped us earlier in the store and he was with his assistant, a stout guy of Mexican descent.  The next seconds were the exact opposite of two weeks before since the door was not only inviting but gave these men an easy access to the living room as they carry the love seat, a box of the TV stand  and the box of AC in.  The two men followed Jenny’s instruction as to where the new love seat and TV stand will be placed.  “Good job” Roxy said.  The next hurdle was installing the AC on the left side window.  While Roxy and Jenny were talking to the two men, I excused myself to go to the bathroom to pee.  As I was washing my hand a few squirt from the hand soap landed in my Guess watch in my left arm which I dearly adore for its color of yellow and green mimicking the color wheel as the color changes from faded in the center to brighter to the edges.  I decided to take the watch off my wrist and put in on top of the empty soap dish by the bathroom shelf.  “I will just put it on later when they are finished outside” I said to myself.  Soon I was startled by a knock on the door.  It was Jenny who wanted to use the bathroom.  As soon as she was finished she called me by the bathroom door and said “You should put this watch back on” pointing to the watch on the dish. I said “Don’t worry I will put it back on, I am just waiting for the two guys to leave”.  Soon as Jenny and I were both out in the living room Roxy was saying that the assistant cannot stay longer since he has a pregnant wife waiting for him and he was just doing it for his supervisor as a favor.  The assistant beg to be excused but wanted to use the bathroom before he leaves.  Soon after the assistant left, the supervisor said that he may need our help as he cannot install the AC by himself.   Since spring time just arrived and summer is not in another three months we decided it is of no importance to have the AC affixed to the window.  We will just leave it in the box and when an opportunity comes before summer time arrives I will contract another person to put it in the window.  As I was reaching for my wallet to give some money to the gentleman for the service he just did with his assistant, I remembered my watch in the bathroom.  As I entered pushing the bathroom door, I came to realize that the watch is gone and I was sure I left it there even seen by Jenny herself when she called me up.  It was apparent that the assistant who used the bathroom before he left stole the watch, a story we made aware to the supervisor.  “I am really sorry for what my assistant did” the man said apologetically.  “Had you known about this before he left, I could have searched for him and return the watch to you.  But now that he is gone and we have no proof that he took it, I cannot just accuse him especially that it is after his work hours” he continued.  “I am really ashamed for what he did.  Would it make you feel better if I just return your money for the installation service?” he asked.  I begged him to take it and said “It was not your fault.  You did a good job.”  What his assistant did was a horrible thing and the gentleman supervisor should not be punished for his crime.  I just decided to charge everything to experience and send this supervisor out of the door to go home.  “It can’t be any bad luck this early” I said to the two girls, I have just moved in.  I do not want this incident of the stolen Guess watch to jinx my stay in the apartment so I thought I just have to to let it pass.  Jenny and Roxy assured me that things will be okay, and soon they were off to go home.

A few months after settling in to the new apartment, April to be exact, I found myself in Paradise Closeout again this time with Miss B and Edwin looking for some small frames to be put in the kitchen and the bathroom as the frames I carried from Jamaica were the large ones for the living room and the bedroom only.  “I want pictures of the flowers in the bathroom and the vegetables and fruits in the kitchen” I said to Edwin and Miss B.  “Will you help me hang them Edwin, please?” I asked and he promised to hang them one of the coming week nights.  I chose the pictures of peaches with a peach cobbler pie and the vegetables such as lettuce, bell peppers, red cabbage, eggplant and other veggies in a green leaves spread for the kitchen and flowers in  vases as well as intertwined fern leaves for the bathroom.  While I was making the slow trip to the cashier I chanced upon a medium sized frame of a naked man sitting in a fetal position on top of the cliff which I thought would be a nice partner to a picture of naked female angel in my bedroom.  I also found a small frame of angels in their long white gowns with their white wings openly flapped wide, “how lovely” I said to be placed in between the flowers in a vase and the fern leaves in the bathroom.  After seven small frames and one medium frame, it was time for us to pay and head out to go home so I can drop my bargains and head out to have dinner at Edwin’s apartment.  Miss B said ” I cooked pansit (rice noodles with veggies and meat) and lumpiang shanghai (spring roll)”.  You will like them, she assured me.  Few days after that weekend, my usual impatience caught up with me and decided I will not wait for Edwin who was in our New Jersey office that day so I knew I will not be able to bother him because he will be tired by the time he gets home and it will be too late by then.  I started with the bedroom placing the picture of the naked man above my king size bed, then the two small frames by the kitchen in a slanted position above each other.  Now it is time for the frames for the bathroom and I have to make it fast as it is getting late and it will be my turn to make a trip to our New Jersey office tomorrow.  I drilled a little pinch on the wall of the bathroom so I can pin each small screw, two on the right side and three on the left side all in a slanted position so that the frames will resemble like steps in a stair case.  Two of the four flower vases, one with brown vase and white flowers and one with light blue vase with sunflowers and pompoms of various colors, were placed in the right side wall.  The other two frames, a china vase with yellow gerberas and pink lilies was placed on the top of the left wall and the intertwined fern leaves were place on lower part of the left wall.  At last, the angels will have their place in the middle of the pack like the middle step of the stairs.  I was happy with my accomplishment for the night and it was time to bed.  I breathe a sigh of relief, brushed my teeth and headed to the bedroom.  I said my prayer and turn the lights off.

It was an early start, I have to wake up at 5am to be able to have breakfast and meet the cab driver in front of the office by Bryant Park at 7am.  Before I took a shower, I stared at my bathroom walls one more time and marveled at how pretty they looked.  “I did it well on my own” I said to myself.  For the first time I did a manly task without scraping my skin, bruising my legs or hurting my fingers.  I put a sky-blue shirt and dark blue pants on to match my blue coat.  I put a red necktie on to make a complete contrast of the blue color suit I am wearing.  “It looked nice” I said while looking at the oval shaped cheval mirror.  It is 6:15am, time to leave.  “The Carmel car will be waiting for me by the side of the New York public library according to Jeannie from the New Jersey office” I said to myself.  I shut the door behind me and in three minutes of walk I was at the 46th Street station waiting for a V train that will take me to 42nd Street/Bryant Park station.  “It will be a long day again in the New Jersey office” I said to myself while I was in the cab.  Especially by the end of the day when instead of just me in the cab, they will force me again to wait for the other auditors coming back to New York so even if I am finished early I think we won’t leave again until 8pm and by the time I get home it will be close to 10pm.  “Well, what else is new?” I thought.  The day went by pretty quickly and all my work papers were reviewed, of course with some few open points left which I need to discuss with Odelia, the senior auditor working for me.  As soon as we got into the same spot where we were picked up in the morning I immediately headed to the subway station but before I went to the platform I decided to call Miss B.  “Hello, how are you?” her immediate response.  I said “I just got back from New Jersey, but I just wanted to let you know that I already put up the pictures frames in the kitchen and the bathroom walls.”  She sounded happy to hear what I said.  But she was quick to mention that  “I am trying to put the kids to sleep” while Clark and Whitney, her employers, were out to dinner.  She then said “Edwin and I will come by on Saturday, let’s have dinner at your house so we can see what you did with the frames”.  I agreed and said my goodbyes before hopping into a V train bound for Queens.  The train was packed as usual during rush hour but I managed to snatch a seat when the train stopped at 5th Avenue/53rd Street station.  Few minutes more and I am getting out of the subway station.  I was thinking to my head what I will have for dinner “I have longganisa (pork sausage) and left over sauted chayote with shrimp”. I just needed to make rice which will not take that long with my tiny rice cooker.  As I opened the main door, I noticed the lights by the staircase are shut out again.  “Stingy old lady is saving money on electricity again” I said to myself as I tried to click the switch on.  Oh, I have some mails by the middle of the stairs, all bills I guessed.  I left the lights on after opening my apartment door, as a protest to Nala, to leave it on until it is my bedtime around 11pm.  I will check again later if she dared to turn it off.  I reached for the switch above the chain lock by the left side of the door and turned my living room lights on.  “Oh, I like my house.  So clean and quiet” I whispered softly.  I dropped my office bag and headed to the bathroom.  To my surprise, the middle frame of angels was missing.  Fear covered my whole body when I saw it lying on the floor mangled with little pieces of broken glass.  “How did this happen?” I asked myself.  It’s as if the wall was shaken by an earthquake but why was it that only the frame with the angels was broken.  What about the frames on top and below it, how come they don’t appear to be touched?  What about the frames by the opposite wall on the right? They look like they were never hit by whatever wind or force that broke the frame of the angels.  Every single item in the bathroom appeared untouched except for this specific picture of happy angels.   I can feel goosebumps in every part of my skin as I was trying to make sense out of this mess.  Did Nala come to my apartment and accidentally hit the frame in the bathroom?  But why would she come in and never let me know that she will? Or let alone drop my picture frame and not mention it to me while I was climbing the stairs?  If it was not Nala who did this, who could it be?  I am the only tenant here and Nala and I agreed about my privacy which I very well emphasized with her when I moved in.  This is very strange and I am so afraid by the thought of another person coming in to my apartment without my knowledge.  But I know that Nala is also very strict so I do not believe she will allow anybody to enter my apartment while I was away.  Anyway, “I have to be brave” I assured myself.  I will talk to Nala tomorrow and will mention it to her.  I cleaned up the mess making sure every single piece of broken glass was sucked by the vacuum cleaner.  I have to start heating up my dinner and will have to think of what I will cook this Saturday when Miss B and Edwin come to visit me.

Of course, Nala was surprised at my story when I spoke to her the morning after and gave me the assurance that she never allowed and will never allow anybody to come into my apartment without letting me know.  She just said “Maybe the screw was not tightened well, so you can just fix it.”  Well, maybe.  I was probably overthinking it.  I still have my doubts and still freaked out by what happened to the angels, just the angels.  Could this be another one of those bad luck?  Again? But then I said to myself “I will just have to let it pass, yet again.”  I don’t want to be late for work so I bid Nala goodbye and greeted her “Have a good day”.  As the train was moving from one station to another, so many questions came to my mind: Was it just a coincidence that this is the second time that something suspicious happened in this house? Why was it that of all the frames that will fall and break it was the one of the angels in the middle of the pack of frames in the wall?  If the middle frame fell, it should have hit the frame below it as they were arranged in such a way that half of the frame overlaps each other, why did the lower frame seemed untouched or unmoved at least?  Why did it break into small pieces of glass like it was shattered?  Why was the wooden structure of the frame tore into four pieces like a person tore it with so much force and anger?  Could there be a strange being lurking in my apartment when I am not there?  Is there anything about my apartment that I don’t know about?  Well, it’s Friday and I feel so freaky about what happened but I need to concentrate on my notes for the audit meeting scheduled at 11:30am in the client’s office.  Have to forget about these thoughts about the moomoo (ghosts) for a moment and be positive.  After all I have guests tomorrow, Miss B and Edwin, something to look forward to.  Hmmm…what am I going to cook?

Mang Erning agreed to meet up and speak to me like an informal interview as arranged by Tatay Bing.  It was Friday afternoon at 5:30pm and Tatay Bing drove me to a small one floor business establishment along Touhy Avenue in Lincolnwood.  The video shop was in the same building where other businesses such as a pet shop, a fitness studio, a beauty salon, a chiropractor clinic and other small establishments are located.  Mang Erning appeared to be a man with machismo with the way he shook my hand with a firm shake as Tatay Bing introduced me to him.  I got the impression that he is a disciplinarian by the way he looked at me and it felt like he was examining me from head to toe.  Few more exchanges of pleasantries between the two men and the deal was sealed.  It was agreed that I will be starting the following day, Saturday, at 2pm up to closing time at 10pm.  I was told that they have a part-time student who worked from 10am to 2pm who I am relieving with my schedule.  Another employee works in the same schedule as mine but I was told that he only works on Tuesdays and Fridays, which leaves the remaining 4 days of the week to me as Sunday is a family schedule where Mang Erning, the wife and the youngest son attend to the business.  “Sounds good!” I said to myself.  Not bad for a $5.20 an hour; at least I have some money coming in to my pocket while I am looking for a permanent job as an accountant.

I took a shower at 12pm after eating lunch prepared by Tatay Bing of steamed long beans and fried Tilapia with a dipping sauce made from a mixture of vinegar, crushed garlic and soy sauce which is a common dipping sauce back home in the Philippines for any fried meat or fish.  I don’t want to be late and I have to make an impression to my boss who I think was not impressed with me but was only forced because of his friendship with Tatay Bing.  I am starting to feel uneasy by the thought that he will scrutinize me with every little thing that I do but Farida was so quick to tell me as she drove me to the workplace that everything will be fine and if it is any consolation Aling Elena, the wife, is so sweet.  “Pray that she will always be the manager during your shift instead of Mang Erning” she said.  Sure enough with a bit of a luck my and Farida’s prayer was answered, Aling Elena was there to welcome me on my first day.  A very sweet lady who took notice of me, “Nice and sweet boy” she said.  “And very courteous” she added due to my use of “po” and “opo” which are Filipino words used to be affixed to another word or sentence to denote respect.     She said “You were raised properly by your parents because you have good manners and excellent conduct.”  Impression she believes of a sweet Catholic boy raised with love and fear of God.  She then continued “I have a son like you”.  He is very nice and follow everything his mother says.

Aling Elena taught me everything I needed to learn from stacking the videos, the procedures for release and returns of videos, how to conduct proper manner when you talk to customers, how to operate the computer system to make updates and how to operate the cash register, among other things.  This lady is a darling, very patient with me and treats me like either a friend or a son, I would guess.  Whenever it is quiet in the video shop and not many customers come in we would always talk about anything, from my family back home in the Philippines, to her family here in the US and in the Philippines, to my life before I came here, to her husband and sons, and anything under the sun.  At last I found somebody who does not make my life miserable when it is my shift at the video shop.  Mang Erning on the other hand is very cold to me.  He doesn’t even smile when I greet him “Magandang hapon po” (which translates to Good Afternoon) or “Kumusta po” (which translates to How Are You), or even acknowledge my greetings.  Most of the time he will tell me to put my bag down and change to my uniform.  “There is a lot of things to do here”, he used to yell.  There is not one time that he did not yell at me.  Most of the time he insults me and make fun of me being slow and acts like a “sissy”.  Simple things you cannot do it right, he will always say to me.  Sometimes he will tell me that I will not be successful here in America because I am so soft and he doesn’t think I have the strength to keep up with other professionals here in the US.  He said he could care less about my CPA license in the Philippines, it is not recognized here in the US anyway, a big contrast to what Aling Elena always says that she believes I will be able to pass the CPA licensure examinations here because I am a smart person.

Aling Elena would always complement me whenever she gets a chance to say it.  She said I am a fast learner and we always have a nice chat towards the end of the shift as I say goodbye to her in the evening.  I would walk from Touhy Avenue to North Keystone every night.  On good nights the 15 to 20 minutes walk feels nice on a brisk evening.  On bad nights it will seem like hell if it rains or when there are dogs that bark at me from the houses I passed by.  One Thursday evening at about 8:30pm, Aling Elena said that we don’t have to order food because she brought dinner.  Not a lot of people came by to borrow or return videos so we had a good chat.  She said she liked me very much because she reminds me of her older son.  She said she is very fond of Elton although she equally loves her two sons.  Elton works as an English teacher in Japan and that makes her worry about him being far.  But my stories about being in Africa makes her feel better because she knows if I survived in the worst places in Africa her son would make it there in Japan as it is a better place than where I came from.  John, the youngest son, is a college sophomore taking up Computer Studies.  She said that John is close to his father contrary to his brother Elton who Mang Erning never had anything good to say about and are always arguing about him being an English teacher in Japan.  She said Mang Erning wanted Elton to be a soldier or a Navy sailor but the boy never took interest in any of it.  That night she was teary-eyed opening her heart out to me.  She said she wanted her son to be successful like me and that she can see the resilience in me to reach for my dreams which is the same thing she sees in her son.

When I came that Saturday afternoon for my shift Mang Erning called me from the back room and told me to clean the bathroom.  I said I believe that is not a part of my job.  “You are working for me” he said.  “I can make you do anything I want to.  I don’t pay you to just sit your ass there and do nothing but stare at the wall.”  Change into your uniform and do as you are told.  That moment it was clear to me that this man hates me.  I reasoned that the bathroom is cleaned by the housekeeper employed by the janitorial company contracted by the building management so no one in the video shop crew is obligated to clean it.  I can see in his eyes that his rage inside him was going strong but he could not say anything anymore but to let me change in my uniform and go back to my station to assist some customers who are returning some videos.  That night I did the closing as usual but Mang Erning was quiet as opposed to the nights when he would give me a hard time by rattling me or calling me names.  After changing to my regular clothes, I approached Mang Erning and said “I am sorry about this afternoon.  I did not mean to be rude to you but I was just reasoning out.”  He just nodded.  I then continued that “I wanted to tell you that I am resigning effective tonight as I have decided I will go to New York city and try my luck there.”  I was expecting for him to insult me but he looked at me and quietly said “Good luck!”

It was Sunday morning, Farida asked me if I am ready to go to church with them.  The mass starts at 11am in Queen of All Saints Basilica in city center Chicago.  She said it will only be me and her and her girlfriend, Rosanna, since her mom has an extended duty at the hospital where she works.  While she was driving I told her about the story in the video shop the day before and that I already resigned since Mang Erning was very abusive to me.  The only person who cares about me and treat me well was Mang Erning’s wife Elena.  It was then that she said there is a story that she did not mention to me about Mang Erning and his family for fear that her father will get upset and think she is spreading gossip about Mang Erning’s family.  It was about Elton, the eldest son.  Farida said that Mang Erning was not in speaking terms with Elton and is blaming his wife for the son.  I asked Farida “What’s wrong with Elton?”.  She steadied her handle on the steering wheel and turned to me saying “Elton is gay!”.  There you go, that is exactly the reason why.  Both Mang Erning and Aling Elena saw their son in me.  He may be in Japan right now but my presence in the video shop reminded them of Elton.  Mang Erning on a bad way evident by his verbal abuse and the way he treated me like a low life; and Aling Elena in a good way evident by her showering me of all the compliments and warm treatment like a mother or a friend.  I could not blame them but “Being gay is not Elton’s fault and certainly not a sin” I told Farida.  You and I and your girlfriend Rosanna is a living proof of that.  We got out of the car and went up the stairs leading to the door of the church.

That night, Tatay Bing called me from the basement and said that while we were at the church Mang Erning came by and brought my wages.  He handed it over to me: $166.40, the worth of the week’s wage.  He said that he heard about the story and said he could not blame me for resigning and for deciding to try my luck in New York city.  Not sure how much of the story was communicated to him by Mang Erning but I said to myself it is best that Tatay Bing never knew the abuses I suffered from Mang Erning as it will only destroy their friendship.  After all, now it all make sense to me why Mang Erning and Aling Elena reacted that way to me.  My appearance in the video shop resurrected Elton who was gone from their eyes for a while and both have opposing feelings about it.  But still it does not justify Mang Erning’s abuses to me or to his son Elton.

Mang Erning and Aling Elena both tried to evade the glaring truth right by their noses of having a gay son and it has made them unhappy covering it with their self denial.  Often, as human beings, we mask our loneliness, disgust, grief or disappointment with tenacity, cheerfulness and strength in the hopes that no one would venture to uncover it. We never realized that in concealing these frailties we are most vulnerable: tears appear even if we hide them behind our smiles, pain shows even if we crack the funniest joke, anger screams from beyond the adoring eyes and sadness peak through the veil of laughters. We must learn to accept the truth even if it means pain and suffering will be the consequence; for we know it is only temporary until we gather our strength, regain our composure, stand firm and move through the direction where the sun and moon shine its light in this road called life. It is only in truth that we are set free.  Parents breathe life to their children but at the proper time children will choose their own destiny hoping their parents will be there at the portals to give them away when it’s time to fly in their own wings.  I am sure Elton will be happy if only his father and mother will support the life he chose for himself and not be judged because he is gay but be acknowledged for being a good person. As our own Lord said “he that is without sin among men be the one to cast the first stone.”  For who are we to claim righteousness when we can’t even give an ounce of respect and understanding our own family member deserves, let alone the love that they truly need.

Well, time to bed.  Tomorrow is another day.  I have to book my flight to New York.

How many times did you feel ashamed or enraged and your face was all red or your ears were hot as hell after being being told that one did not understand what you said?  Well, I have been in numerous situations when I was new here in the US where my pronunciation of words have been compromised.  It used to hurt my feelings when somebody tells me that he or she did not understand what I said.  One time, one of my ex-boyfriend Kenny’s nephews told him “Uncle Kenny, I did not understand what Eric said.  Can you ask him?”, while I stood right in front.  It was kind of embarrassing to me though I have to hide my disgust and still keep my hypocritical smile.  Another one was when I went to Jersey Gardens to shop with my friend Maricar.  When I asked the customer service in the middle of the floor for shopping bags the lady pointed to me the ATM machine under the escalator saying “There is no bank here inside the mall.”  So I have to come back to her and say I am asking for shopping bags (which I pronounced as “begs”), and this time she understood and asked me “How many do you want?” with a smile. Geesh!

Well, two very memorable situations of tongue-twisting I could not forget happened at two stages of my life.  These two stood out among the awkward moments of disgrace.  The first one was with my ex-boyfriend Kenny while he was staying at my apartment around 2012 and the other with my husband Ulrich when he moved in with me in 2015 after we got married.

One morning of summer in 2012, I woke up at 6:30am as usual, but this time I have an extra activity as my boyfriend Kenny drove me home and stayed for the night in my apartment.  It is Tuesday morning which means alternate side parking is effective in front of my apartment where Kenny parked his car last night.  And since he doesn’t wake up early I have to make sure that the car is moved from the roadside before 10am and the task of doing it was mine.  I put the white 5-Cup Toastmaster coffee maker on and filled the filter basket with freshly ground coffee which I got from Key Food supermarket by the end of 33rd Street and 30th Avenue.  “I will have my coffee when I come back from parking Kenny’s car” I said to myself.  I put my sweat pants over my sleeping shorts and put a baseball cap over my head to cover my hair which is always messy and unmanageable every time I wake up in the morning.  I took the keys from the crystal bowl by the altar table which is adorned with red roses that I bought last Sunday after I came from church, which is a regular task for me after every Sunday mass.  I came down the stairs to the second floor of the building to go out through the side door leading to the street which is only accessible to the tenants of the building.  Kenny had parked his 2012 Mercedes-Benz right in front my the building, he was lucky last night.  Anytime of the day is a headache looking for a parking space in any part of Astoria except on Sundays.  I put the ignition on  and start driving the car along 33rd Street making a quick right turn to 28th Avenue taking turn from street to street and making sure the space available is not on alternate side parking rule.  At last, I was able to find a free space on 38th Street a little closer to where New York Sports Club is.  Now I can go home and prepare our breakfast before I take a shower.  I got back inside the apartment as if nothing happened while I was away parking the car because the house is still silent and Kenny is still asleep.  I placed the car keys on top of the computer table so it will be visible for Kenny when he wakes up.  I made a quick trip to the kitchen, filled my cup up with coffee with two teaspoons of sugar and two spoons of Nestle Coffee-mate creamer as I start preparing Kenny’s favorite breakfast of two over-easy eggs on top of fried sliced ham all on a toasted Thomas’ english muffin.  Kenny woke up as I was preparing myself to go to work buttoning the left sleeve of my shirt.  He gave me a kiss and greeted me “Good morning” as I greeted him the same.  I told him his favorite breakfast of Ham and Egg sandwich was on top of the stove and the coffee was brewing in the coffee maker.  As I was about to leave and he was lying sleepy on the couch wearing his very skimpy boxer shorts that shows half of his balls, I told him “Your keys are here.” Then he stood up and say “Where?”  I said “Here” pointing to the top of the computer table.  In my mind I was thinking he probably forgot that I have to move his car on another side of the street since it is an alternate side parking day today.  Looking like a confused child, he decided to come closer to me and posed as if he was waiting for me to kiss him and said “Okay, you can kiss me now”.  I got so mad and said “I was talking about your car keys and not kiss.”  Then he said “I am sorry, I thought you said kiss” and showed me his lips as he pouted it.  Feeling so insulted I angrily said goodbye and slammed the door behind me.

Forward 3 years, one evening of 2015 after eating a dinner of baked salmon with carrots, zucchini, green beans and bell pepper which was seasoned with Goya Adobo powder over white rice with the side of red wine, my husband Ulrich and I were about to watch episode 5 of Murdoch Mysteries series 1 which we have been binging on for the last few weeks along with Poirot and Miss Fisher.  “Wait for me before you start, I will finish washing the dishes in 2 minutes” I told Ulrich who replied with “Of course honey, I won’t start yet” assuringly while crackling his favorite M&M peanuts in his mouth.  The title of the episode was “Till Death Do Us Part” which was about a homosexual man who engaged in a sham marriage so he can claim his inheritance.  After finishing the episode, we watched two more succeeding episodes 6 and 7 until we realized that we started at 8pm after dinner and by 10:30pm it was the bedtime for Ulrich so we decided it is time to call it quits.  Ulrich was in a hurry to use the bathroom to pee so he can jump into bed and it will be my turn to shut the lights out.  Of course I was trying to get in first, but he was taller and bigger than me so he was able to block me by the door.  I said I wanted to go in first because I will have to brush my “teeth”.  He asked me “What?” while shaking his weenie as he finished urinating.   I said “I will brush my teeth” as I was holding my toothbrush.  Looking confused he lifted his shirt that shows strands of hair in his chest, then pointed to one of his nipples saying “Are you brushing your tit?”  We bursted in laughters and again I said I was brushing my teeth with emphasis on the “th” while spelling it for him “T-E-E-T-H”.  While Ulrich was walking away out of the bathroom I tried to follow him reaching for his nipple to pinch it from behind and say “I can brush your tit too.”  That was the joke for the night enough to put smiles in our faces as I kiss him goodnight turning the lights off and lay my head on my pillow.

I realized, nowadays it doesn’t hurt my feelings anymore if somebody did not understand what I said because of my pronunciation.  It actually sounds funny to me now.  Sweet dreams!

Little did I know that this chit-chat with her became some sort of an informal interview.  I found out few nights after she flew back to Burundi to resume her duties that she was asking Julianna and Giada if they think I will accept a position of Assistant Finance Director which she created and curved out of the budget in their European Civil Protection and Humanitarian Aid Operations (ECHO) program and if they think I will accept the salary that the budget can afford to pay.  “Are you kidding me? Of course I will” I said to Julianna.  A nice permanent position with a monthly salary, a food allowance of $20 per day and a one-week all expenses paid R&R trip to any neighboring country every six weeks; who will say no that?  Violet spoke to me on the phone the morning after and she was obviously excited from the feedback she got from Julianna last night.  She instructed me to go to their office in Nairobi and look for Katrina Onyango, the HR and Administrative Director and she will give me my paper works as well as book my tickets to Bujumbura, the capital city of Burundi.  Two days after which was a Monday, I was on a 1:30pm flight of Kenya Airways bound from Nairobi to Bujumbura.  Excitement filled my heart knowing that my struggles in Africa paid off and now I will be working for a permanent position though I don’t know how long the grant where my position was budgeted from will be funded by the donor.  In two hours I will be landing and I can’t wait to thank Violet for gambling on  me as I remember she said that she needed the caliber of an auditor to fix the books which was a “total mess” in her own words.

The flight was smooth, or maybe I did not feel if it was bumpy or not because my heart was the one bumping with excitement and joy.  In my mind I was telling myself “I can finally send regular money remittance to my family in Manila”, with occasional sighs of relief.  After clearing my luggages with customs, I look around and saw my name written in a piece of card board as well as the name of another passenger, Dr. Mandiza.  We were welcomed by Benny, the Assistant Logistics Manager and Vergil, the driver who I was surprised was fully dressed complete with a necktie that I mistook to be Camilo Cardozo, the Country Director.  They said Camilo was in South Africa for his R&R so he will not be able to welcome us.  I was also told that they were instructed specifically by Camilo that me and Dr. Mandiza will be staying at Camilo’s house until he comes back from R&R while Dr. Mandiza will be traveling to his official post in Muyinga the day after.  Since it was already getting close to dinner time and that there is no food in Camilo’s house the two gentlemen decided to take me and Dr. Mandiza to a restaurant on the way to our accommodation place for the night.  Barbecued meat called “brochettes” and red kidney beans were the most popular items in the menu.  I opted for french fries instead of beans being warned by my mother back home in the Philippines to avoid beans so I won’t suffer from arthritis later in my life.  I am not sure how true that is but me being an obedient boy I always believe what my mother tells me.  A can of coke for me while Dr. Mandiza ordered a bottle of beer.  That is more than enough for us to sustain our hunger although we were served with snacks in the flight earlier.

As soon as we load the luggages off the car, we were told that I will be sleeping in the main bedroom while Dr. Mandiza will be in the guest room.  My bedroom was big enough; the bed was covered with a white sheet and the pillows with white covers as well as white blanket tucked under the sheet and folded in a 45 degree angle.  The center of the bed has a white soft cotton net that flows from the top of the ceiling and could be spread from the center to cover the whole bed which is obviously to protect the bed occupant from mosquitos.  I said to myself “Mosquitos?  I have to make sure I don’t get sick while I am here.”  I don’t know how effective the hospitals here are so I have to take good care of myself though our agency employs doctors and nurses to begin with.  I changed to my sleeping shirt and shorts and spread the mosquito net to cover the whole bed.   Then I took my small 2″x3″ picture of Jesus Christ from the pocket of my pants, said my prayers, tucked the picture inside the pillow and shut the light coming from a small lamp from the bedside table off.

The day after, we were picked up at 7:30am as the office starts at 8am and it is approximately 30 minutes drive from Camilo’s house to the IMC office in Bujumbura.  Some parts of the country has nice vegetation and greeneries and some parts were dried but lots of trees.  As soon as we got in the office a familiar face approached me.  It was Violet who kissed me to welcome me officially in the office where I will be starting my first taste of work in humanitarian field.  I was introduced to everyone in the office which I tried to remember now as Alina, the receptionist, Tara, an office assistant, Sylvan and Juniper, the two drivers and the accounting assistants, Gerry and Audey.  She asked me “Did you have breakfast? Are you hungry?”.  I shook my head.  “Don’t worry” she said.  “I have biscuits and cookies in here and I also have coffee and sugar which I brought to keep me awake whenever I feel sleepy or stressed out with these two accounting assistants.  More introductions here and there and by lunch time Violet told me I will be going to the main house with them for lunch since there is no food in Camilo’s house.  Lunch was better than the dinner we had the night before and finally I can speak to Violet in our native Philippine dialect of Tagalog.  Not long after we started chatting, there came Charlene the Program Director, Paloma, the Assistant Program Director who will soon take over the position after Charlene left few months after, and Greta, the pharmacist.  Few minutes after the Logistics Officer, Antoine, arrived and joined us for lunch.  Everybody was asking me at lunch why I agreed to stay at Camilo’s house when the main house has a lot of extra rooms and specifically Violet’s unit downstairs has an extra room that I can use, only that it doesn’t have a wardrobe cabinet which Antoine quickly said that he can get one from one of the houses or buy a cheap one from a furniture shop in town.  It was then unanimously agreed that after work today I will ask one of the driver to take me to Camilo’s house and get my suitcases and use the spare bedroom at Violet’s downstairs unit as my permanent accommodation and that Charlene will speak to Camilo about the issue upon his arrival from his R&R.

Dinner at the main house was more sumptuous than the lunch.  Fried pork chops, boiled asparagus and mashed potatoes.  After dinner Violet toured me around the house.  The main mansion has 4 bedrooms in the top level where, Antoine, Charlene and Greta occupied one room each and 2 self contained units in the lower floor, each unit has 2 bedrooms.  The two units were separated by the car park in the middle.  The unit on the left side is occupied by Violet in the main bedroom and now the smaller bedroom will be mine, while the other unit on the right side is occupied by Paloma.  I laid my suitcases in the room and soon Violet and I were climbing the stairs back to join everyone sitting by the verandah.  Antoine on the small couch, Charlene and Greta on the long bench and Paloma by the ledge of the verandah.  Violet and I sat ourselves in front of Charlene and Greta by the two chairs as we are separated by a long dining table.  The two dogs, Kali and Baby, were by the floor sitting in a position like a dead frog. They were all talking about the day’s events while looking at the lights from the other side of the overlooking lake which they said is Uvira in Congo.  “You will get used to this kind of nights” Paloma told me as she said there are not many channels to choose from the cable installed in the house so they always end up winding the night down with coffee or tea by the veranda.  By 10pm Charlene started to bid good night, and soon everyone started going to their room.  Violet and I stayed for a little bit so we can talk again in our native dialect.  Soon, it was time to go downstairs and bid each other good night.  Around 2:30am, there were sounds of faded gunshots which has been on for a few minutes or hours but I did not notice it until it woke me up and realized what I heard were gunshots so I pulled the edge of my blanket and covered it all over me and went back to sleep as I feel so tired from probably change of environment or the hot weather during the day.

The next day, I woke up feeling relaxed as I thought I got a good night sleep except for the short awakening from far away gunshots but slept over it anyway.  ” I will ask Violet after breakfast where the gun shots came from” I said to myself.  After I heard that Violet has finished taking a shower, I took the towel that she gave me last night and shut the shower door.  It was a small bathroom with the floor made of white tin but well maintained and cleaned by the helpers who come everyday from 8am to 3pm to do chores such as cleaning the house and bathrooms, washing clothes and cooking lunch and dinner.  By the time we got into the dining table by the verandah it was only Paloma who was there as she told us Charlene and Antoine has just left.  It was then that I was told that the shootings started earlier than when I heard it, probably around 12midnight but because I was tired I did not even hear anything until the time it woke me up.  Violet said that Paloma was screaming out my name outside of my window at the time when the first gun fire was shot but she only ended waking Violet up who yelled at her to go back to her room for fear that she might get hit by a bullet.  They told me about the insecurity in the country and how there were fightings between the rebels and the soldiers and the country is suffering from a historic civil war between warring races of Hutus and Tutsis.  Both women advised me to be vigilant and alert about what’s happening in my surrounding as part of our emergency procedure in case we need to be evacuated.  The two were even joking that had we been evacuated that night I will be left behind because I never responded to their call.

Months after, Camilo’s contract with IMC Burundi was completed and he decided not to renew it but rather look for other opportunities outside of the agency.  Soon a new country director came to take Camilo’s position.  A woman by the name of Reina, who came from another agency called IRC.  She proved to be a tough cookie to deal with and too much to bear for Violet to stomach.  Soon the aggression from Reina grew and Violet decided this is not the kind of working environment she wanted to be a part of.  I was left to take over the position of Finance Director and Reina made it sure that my old position is no longer needed so I could not hire somebody to help me with the books.  The country’s insecurity grew worse and soon the curfew that started at 12midnight the first time I sat foot in the country was reduced to 10pm, then few weeks after it became 8pm and by the time I took over the position vacated by Violet it has gone worse to 7pm.  I remember there was even a time we were having our weekly Friday night conference call with the headquarters folks in Los Angeles but we have to cut the call short as Reina would say “I am sorry guys but I have to cut this conference call short; the curfew starts in about 20 minutes so we have to leave now to reach home before that.”  That is how bad became worse and then worst, apart from dealing with Reina that gets so unbearable for all of us.

One Sunday night, I had dinner at my friend Edna’s house.  There was me, Sister Macy, Sister Joan and Joey.  As we were seated by the living room having our after dinner tea and dessert we heard shootings.  It became louder and louder so we decided to sit on the floor by the concrete wall and away from the windows.  Soon the sound of the shootings disappeared but the next sound I heard was “India Mike 4, India Mike 4.  Are you okay? This is India Mike 1”  I knew it was Reina.  So I took my radio and responded “India Mike 1, Indi Mike 1, This is India Mike 4.  I am fine”.  In the next moment the office issued cellphone was ringing and it was Reina again not having been satisfied with my response on the radio, saying that I was supposed to report to her on times like these but I said I was waiting for the shootings to die down before calling her.  She would not even listen to my explanation and the next thing I heard she said was “Stay where you are and spend the night there.  Just come back home tomorrow.”

Few weeks passed.  One night we have a Male nurse by the name of Francis in the main house who was going to his post in Rutana the morning after.  Soon after watching a South African TV program Francis and Antoine decided it was time to call it a night, it was about 11:15pm.  I walked the down the stairs to go to my unit, which for me the good side was I am in the main bedroom where Violet used to sleep and the bed was bigger.  I have just said my prayer and shut the lights out.  At about 11:30pm I heard a loud gun shot as if it was fired just right outside of my window so I jumped out of bed.  Took my cellphone on my left hand and my radio on the right hand while I crawl on the floor trying to stay away from the two glass windows which were positioned exactly opposite my bed.  I shut the door behind.  I sat outside my bedroom door on my right, the closed bathroom door on my left and the closed door of the extra room behind me.  It was dark and all I can think was my family in the Philippines.  So many things played in my mind.  Am I going to call my family to say I love them so much and tell them that it will probably be the last time I might be able to say those words?  “Ah, No! It will just scare them” I said to myself.  If I live tomorrow then they will be worried sick about me.  So I decided I will just pray as the gun shots were going one after another and soon I thought I heard some bullets hitting the gates of the parking space just outside my unit.  From the accounts of Francis when I saw him the morning after, he said he peaked through the window and the bullets were so close that it looked like flying tiny flames.  I was also told by Antoine that the soldiers were positioned guarding the house of the president which was situated on the hill above our mansion and the rebels were on the greenfield down below the mansion “So we were really in the middle of the crossfires” I said.  Scary as hell.

The shootings became a regular occurrence every other night so I said to myself I cannot allow this to rob me of my precious sleeping hours because it became a nuisance instead of something to be taken seriously, not that I do not take my safety seriously.  Alas, I have found a way to continue sleeping even if they are shooting outside without me having to get out of my bed.  I took the mattress of the bed next door and put it against the windows to cover me from bullet.  In my head I think before the bullet hits my bed or me it will pass through the spring and foam of the mattress first so I am safe.  Not a smart thing to do but I thought that is the only way I can continuously enjoy my sleep without being disturbed.  I whispered it to one of the drivers, and sure enough it reached the new Logistics Officer that replaced Antoine who then told Reina about it.  The following day I was summoned in Reina’s office and was being lectured on the importance of safety and security and how we are supposed to take it seriously.  I said to her “I was just trying to escape the bullets and I am sure before I get hit it will be stopped by the springs and foam inside the mattress.”  She said screaming to me “Enough of these non-sense!  You will do what I said or I will have to fire you for insubordination and failure to follow security rules.”

I thought by covering my windows with a mattress, I was trying to escape the bullets from the guns of the opposing forces of Hutus and Tutsis but I did not realize that the bullets from Reina’s mouth is more lethal.   Her words are far more explosive enough to send every body running away from her: from Violet, to Antoine, to Paloma.  One by one they left.  So, the following month I was packing my bags going to Luanda.  I was on my way to a new assignment in IMC Angola, another country suffering from civil war and rebellion, but at least I am away from Reina’s might.  I am relieved to have escaped the bullets coming from the mouth of the dragon lady that is Reina.

Burundi is a country savaged by ethnic cleansing.  And now, leaving this war torn country and making a journey to another one gave me a new perspective in life: War defies the law of nature. It is a by-product of hate and greed aimed to clinch self interested motives at any cost with no regard to rights or reasons.  So, no matter how beautiful God’s creation is, human beings will always find a way to destroy it and tear it into pieces due to conflicts between each other in matters of culture, beliefs, religion, ethnic differences, social class, earthly possessions, power and things that in reality can be gained or achieved peacefully if we only know how to respect one another.  We can only hope that one day this world will truly be a better place to live in now and for generations to come.