On Family

While I dearly love my brother, I have to admit he is at a loss being a boy and all. I think I already wrote on him, so I wont go on about him. I actually was going to talk about my sisters.

We came in pairs. First there was me and Camille. The two extremes that you could have using the same pairs of genes. I mean, really, there aren't two people more different than me and Camille. And I love her for it. But the age thing, that is really a big thing because it means we shared a) the same parents b) the same teachers c) the same schools d) the same groups of people (we managed to have different friends for the most part). And in talking to Makayla, I think it all comes down to an observation: comfortability doesn't mean close. Being around Camille isn't comfortable. Comforting sometimes, but hardly comfortable. And yet, Camille and I are close-because we came in a pair.

Then there was Miriam and Clarissa, who are also opposites, but not in extremes. They are a captivating pair actually. And if Camille and I are extremes, these two are the opposite of that. As liberal as I am, Clarissa is less so. As conservative as Camille is, she is matched by Miriam. Ironic, that they are the most mixed pair, the most intertwined.

Then there was Rae. And Rae, though part of a pair, is very very distinct. Her other is Ben, and obviously he doesn't really count as being part of the group of girls. Not only that, their pairing is as distant as the space between Camille and Miriam. So in actuality, they just coexist as separate factions. But Rae is the moderator. She sides with nobody and relates to everyone. She, in her being the youngest, has inherited the insight of both pairs of sisters. While she is attracted to my distinct eccentricity, she also is admires Camille's class. While she laughs with Miriam, she can run with Clarissa (or play ball as is normally the case). She not a fencesitter, but the point. The point that is both included in the group, but is not because she is alone. And it is that strength to be alone that I admire. While it takes strength to recognize your pairing and make it work, it is far harder to be alone. Far far harder.

But Rae will never be alone, because we will never leave her. None of us will, because she completes us. She is our center.

And the even more important thing to note, besides our differences, is the fact that we act as a family. We are a unit that exists to build and sustain the others. Is that not so? It is an empowering notion, when it works. And it is one that depends on our individuality. Because all our smiles are not the same.

To see what Camille said about the sisterhood, check out her blog, at http://cacacamille.blogspot.com/.

Over Burnham Park

It was 3 in the morning. Someone's crew was walking down the street below; I could see them from the balcony of the rented apartment my dad had found. It was right across the street from the park my dad grew up playing in.

"This place has changed so much" I remembered him saying. "Dirtier, poorer." He had planned the trip for two and a half weeks, and was ready to go in four days. It just wasn't the same. He tagged along on our adventures anyway though.

For some reason, Camille really wanted her hair straightened while we were there. She spent a week trying to figure out who would do it for under $60, which was a couple thousand pesos. Not much, considering we were American. My dad asked if I wanted mine done too.

"Sure" I said, wondering if he was serious. He was though, because the day came and we followed him through and around Burnham Park, through a shopping center. There was a big sign for a recording studio just over the overhang bridge that was just about as busy as a metro station platform during rush hour. Filipinos like to sing. I could even hear someone performing just at the end of the bridge for the money I didn't really want to give them.

We wound through the run down shops and into an alley, then came out in front of a condemned building, which we cut through in the back stairway. At the top, we were approached by a security guard who spoke a few words in Tagalog to my dad that I didn't understand. He nodded and let us by and we found ourselves in what could have been the second story of a mall, except for the windows that were boarded up with cardboard.

They weren't all like that. There was a store that carried shoes, one carried bags, another carried fake Gap clothes. There were three salons, spaced between them, and my dad went straight to the one in the middle.

The receptionist was a very skinny, tall, feminine guy with bleached orange hair. That's what happens when a person with black hair bleaches it. It turns orange and looks damaged. He also was a shampoo boy I later realized. There was a man in a red t-shirt with the sleeves cut off who's English was better than the others. He did Camille's hair mostly, though he rinsed mine once. A girl did my hair. She had a low voice and when she spoke to me it was in broken English. She was tall, which is one of those things that makes people over there stand out. Filipinos are small naturally.

My hair isn't as thick as Camille's so I got to leave earlier. What I found was the main floor of the building was a market. There were tiny stalls set up with homemade goods, from shoes to rugs to some kind of battle ax my dad thought was cool and brought back to my mom as her present, claiming them as decorations to the customs official when we got back to the States.

Clarissa was particularly good at getting good prices on everything. That means she's a good liar...by Filipino standards anyway. Or it means that they were willing to play the game and pretend so she would come back more often and they could sell more things.

Camille showed up three hours after the rest of us had finished and gone back to the apartment. We were watching some Disney channel rerun when she walked in.

"When did you finish?" she asked me. She had fallen asleep while waiting for the chemicals in her hair to set the during the second cycle.

"A couple hours ago"

"Did you remember to give that guy a tip?"

"Dad tipped him, and I had a girl"

"No, it was a guy" she said, a smile creeping over her lips.

"No, it was a girl" I said. She shook her head and insisted that it was a guy. My dad chimed in an agreement.

"Lalakway" he laughed before heading up to take a nap. Transvestite, I translated in my head.

I wondered, as those boys passed on the street below me, if that had been one of those things that had changed too. There was one lone street light in the area. A taxi drove by, it's motor loud in the still summer air. I went inside and turned on the t.v.. I wouldn't fall asleep for another hour or so, I knew.

Burnham Park, Baguio, Philippines, 2006 in the daytime from the apartment balcony.