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Authors: Saud Alsanousi
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arrived.
Although I was still young, Mendoza became openly hostile towards me. âIf there was any good in this boy, his family there wouldnât have abandoned him,â he said.
My mother held her tongue and he continued: âIf he was older, we could make use of him.â
My mother was in the first months of pregnancy by Alberto at that time. When she had her son Adrian I was about three and a half. My mother decided to move into Albertoâs house,whereas previously she had stayed there only four months a year, when Alberto was on leave in the Philippines. She visited our house every now and then to ask after me and give Mendoza some money, and once a week to clean Inang Cholengâs house.
My mother hadnât settled there long before she started thinking about going abroad again because her financial needs had increased. When Adrian was six months old she went off to work in Bahrain, leaving me and my brother in the care of Aunt Aida for three years.
It canât have been anything but poverty that persuaded her to leave her children with Aida, who always had bloodshot eyes from smoking too much marijuana.
In a letter she wrote to Aida one year after she left, my mother said:
How are you, my crazy sister?
And how are the kids?
A few hours ago I sent you my whole salary. Please make sure that none of it goes to my father and that itâs shared out to José and Adrian and you and Merla. Iâll try to save some money to help Pedro with his new building project.
Alberto called me a few days ago and told me he would be back in a few weeks. Please clean his house before he comes back and donât forget to take Adrian to him every day because, as you know, Alberto doesnât like to visit our house because father harasses him and is always pressing him with demands for money. I donât want to lose this man, even if all men are bastards.
Tell José I miss him very much and Iâm working in a country close to his fatherâs country. I wish I could swim across the sea to meet Rashid or find out what happened to him, so that I could feel confident about Joséâs future.
Iâm well. Bahrain isnât like Kuwait when it comes to the standard of living. Although the family I work for is well off, some people are poor. Simple people.
Bahrainis do all kinds of work. They wash cars, work as porters in hotels and sell stuff in shops. Even the woman I work for very often shares the housework with me. I like the people very much.
The people are kind. Tell José that. Kindness seems to be the most obvious feature of the poor. The poverty here is not like the poverty we have but, even for people who are relatively better off, itâs still poverty.
Josephine
March 1993
Aida told me that my mother loved me and missed me very much.
I donât remember that. I was five years old. But definitely she did.
Did she kiss Adrian? Did Adrian feel my motherâs kiss through Aidaâs lips?
If only your letter had come earlier, Mother.
*Â Â *Â Â *
That year Uncle Pedro finished building his new house on Mendozaâs land and bought a used car. He had found work driving trucks for various companies, paid by the day. The great advantage for me was that for the first time in years I had my own room in the house, after Uncle Pedro left. A room that encapsulated my life in the Philippines. It was a small room with blue walls, a bed, a ceiling fan and a window that looked out on the windowof my grandfatherâs little house next door. The distance between the two windows was no more than two metres and the watercourse ran through the gap below. Along the banks thin stalks of bamboo grew. There was nothing to disturb my peace of mind when I was in my room, except for Grandfatherâs nocturnal ravings under the influence of
tuba
, which I could hear through his window, or his constant calls of âJosé!!!â during the day.
Â
10
I was five years
Although I was still young, Mendoza became openly hostile towards me. âIf there was any good in this boy, his family there wouldnât have abandoned him,â he said.
My mother held her tongue and he continued: âIf he was older, we could make use of him.â
My mother was in the first months of pregnancy by Alberto at that time. When she had her son Adrian I was about three and a half. My mother decided to move into Albertoâs house,whereas previously she had stayed there only four months a year, when Alberto was on leave in the Philippines. She visited our house every now and then to ask after me and give Mendoza some money, and once a week to clean Inang Cholengâs house.
My mother hadnât settled there long before she started thinking about going abroad again because her financial needs had increased. When Adrian was six months old she went off to work in Bahrain, leaving me and my brother in the care of Aunt Aida for three years.
It canât have been anything but poverty that persuaded her to leave her children with Aida, who always had bloodshot eyes from smoking too much marijuana.
In a letter she wrote to Aida one year after she left, my mother said:
How are you, my crazy sister?
And how are the kids?
A few hours ago I sent you my whole salary. Please make sure that none of it goes to my father and that itâs shared out to José and Adrian and you and Merla. Iâll try to save some money to help Pedro with his new building project.
Alberto called me a few days ago and told me he would be back in a few weeks. Please clean his house before he comes back and donât forget to take Adrian to him every day because, as you know, Alberto doesnât like to visit our house because father harasses him and is always pressing him with demands for money. I donât want to lose this man, even if all men are bastards.
Tell José I miss him very much and Iâm working in a country close to his fatherâs country. I wish I could swim across the sea to meet Rashid or find out what happened to him, so that I could feel confident about Joséâs future.
Iâm well. Bahrain isnât like Kuwait when it comes to the standard of living. Although the family I work for is well off, some people are poor. Simple people.
Bahrainis do all kinds of work. They wash cars, work as porters in hotels and sell stuff in shops. Even the woman I work for very often shares the housework with me. I like the people very much.
The people are kind. Tell José that. Kindness seems to be the most obvious feature of the poor. The poverty here is not like the poverty we have but, even for people who are relatively better off, itâs still poverty.
Josephine
March 1993
Aida told me that my mother loved me and missed me very much.
I donât remember that. I was five years old. But definitely she did.
Did she kiss Adrian? Did Adrian feel my motherâs kiss through Aidaâs lips?
If only your letter had come earlier, Mother.
*Â Â *Â Â *
That year Uncle Pedro finished building his new house on Mendozaâs land and bought a used car. He had found work driving trucks for various companies, paid by the day. The great advantage for me was that for the first time in years I had my own room in the house, after Uncle Pedro left. A room that encapsulated my life in the Philippines. It was a small room with blue walls, a bed, a ceiling fan and a window that looked out on the windowof my grandfatherâs little house next door. The distance between the two windows was no more than two metres and the watercourse ran through the gap below. Along the banks thin stalks of bamboo grew. There was nothing to disturb my peace of mind when I was in my room, except for Grandfatherâs nocturnal ravings under the influence of
tuba
, which I could hear through his window, or his constant calls of âJosé!!!â during the day.
Â
10
I was five years
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