5 October 2007
Is It Worth It?
Coming home from school, I was walking slowly on the streets of my little but busy neighborhood. I could see the business of the people were up and going; little home-based convenient stores were open; the fish ball, a typical Filipino street food, vendor was under the big and old mango tree waiting for his customers; stray cats and dogs carelessly ran along the asphalt streets. Our neighbors greeted me as I unlocked the gate to my home; I looked back, smiled warmly, sighed then thought, “Will leaving to another country in hopes for a better life be worth it?” With draggy shoulders, half-open eyelids and messy hair, I went directly inside my room. I lazily changed my school uniform and laid on my wooden bed. I laid still in silence and for just a moment, I tried to forget everything that happened during the past months of my life. That day, I dropped out of my high school in exchange for a better life in the U.S. My mother just finished her shift wearing her neat and white uniform, carrying her cap and putting away her white shoes. “Mom?” I said as I tagged along entering the room hoping she was in a good mood.
“Yes,” she softly answered.
“Do we really have to leave this November for America?” I asked, hoping to talk out of my way of leaving so soon.
“I’m afraid so, you know your brother’s going to turn 21 this January so the three of us should leave before then, and I have a good job waiting for me there,” she replied with certainty as she was changing in her closet and I was standing outside her closet door. “If we leave after your brother turns 21, he might not be able to leave this country with us. He might miss this opportunity, so we must go this soon,” she added.
“What if we go this December? Or better yet what if I stay behind to finish my senior year this May and then go? What if you take….”
“No!” she replied with an irritated tone slamming the door behind her signaling the end of the conversation. I sighed heavily as I accepted my defeat and walked away. I went back into my room and tried to figure out a way to spend my last remaining weeks in my home country, Philippines. Feeling helpless and weak I grabbed the nearest pillow in sight, dug my head into it, sat down crossing my legs in front of me, leaning on the wall by my bed, facing my little altar and prayed, “Lord, ikaw nalang jud bahala namo Lord.” (I’m lifting up everything to You, Lord.) “I know I was praying really hard for this to happen back then, but not this soon,” I said, hoping someone would console me back. I just bade my high school goodbye that day, and I know it was going to take me about a hundred goodbyes after that. Tears started coming one by one, as I slept alone on that silent late October night.
The weeks passed by so fast I couldn’t even remember what I did. Although on the day before our departure, my friends and I decided to spend my last whole day together. We met up at my house at around 8 o’clock in the morning, a little bit after our--oh wait--their school hours started. Two of my friends, Alexa and Bernadette, snuck out of from school and my best friend, Marie, took an absence. With their big smiles and civilian clothing they greeted me. I learned that they changed their uniforms at my best friend’s place to avoid being caught.
“Mom they’re here I’ll be going,” I said quickly so as not to give her a chance to argue.
“Where are you going this early in the morning? When will you be back?” she said in an unhappy tone.
“Ummmm…I’ll be back before 5:00,” I said hurriedly as I was unlocking our gate. I couldn’t give her a chance to suspect so I took off in an instant. Wearing plain jeans and shirts we met up with 3 of our other high school friends. Wearing their slacks and uniformed shirts, the guys were waiting for us on the second floor of a fast food store near my place. They too skipped school to be there which made me feel just a little bit guilty. “Where are we going?” I asked, as everybody was gathered around.
“Mt. View Nature’s Park, a place where we can go to enjoy nature or plainly for the nice view of the city by ourselves,” my best friend replied.
“But, how do we get there? Do we have enough money for that?” I asked wondering how it will work out.
“There’s seven of us we’ll be able to get there, we’ll just share the fare,” Alexa replied.
“And food?” I continued.
“You’re worrying too much. Let’s just go and enjoy this day okay?” Marie added.
“Fine…fine! But since it’s my last day how about you all treat me this one last time?”
“Treat yourself!” they said sarcastically which actually meant yes, widening the smile on my face.
We played card games, took a video, enjoyed the fresh air and the nice view, played at the mini play ground they had and playfully enjoyed each others company. It was around 3-4 o’clock in the afternoon when I sat on the nearby swing alone, looking at the horizon, feeling the breeze of the fresh air playing with the tips of my hair while observing my friends, and treasuring the moment and every smile they hand on their faces. Hoping that moment would last forever, and then it suddenly hit me, “Will leaving really be worth it?”
The next day, there were no doubts about the three of us leaving that day. Our luggage was packed; our passports were ready. As our flight number was announced, this signaled my last moments with my friends and family. My friends followed me all the way near the gated area. We huddled in a circle they were sobbing with the words “Nam (what they call me), take care Nam, don’t forget us Nam, love you Nam, we’ll miss you Nam, God bless Nam, Come back soon Nam…” which were like pop-ups on my computer screen except I kept painfully hearing them one after another slowly, very slowly fading away as I walked away from the crowed. As any other day before that, tears were still falling from my eyes. For a second or two I wondered how many tears I had left, and when they would ran out. With $700 in our pockets, three huge suitcases and two small ones, and hopes for a “greener pasture,” we took a risk not knowing what’s in store for us. “Mom, will we be okay?” I asked, as we were sitting on the airplane next to each other, looking outside the window and waiting for our departure.
“We’ll be okay,” she said sighing in a soft voice. I took her arm and leaned on her shoulders. “We’ll be okay,” I repeatedly convince myself as the plane took off.
I resumed my studies in high school after we arrived and got settled. I was told that I had to go back for about a year and a half in high school because the school couldn’t enroll me as a senior right away considering it was already late November when I started. As I walked slowly by the corridors of my new school, I stopped and looked around. People from different races, speaking different languages, gathered in groups, and were all eating their lunches together. The smiles on their faces for some reason pained me. I stood in front of the whole cafeteria with my tray of food in hand, looking at the whole scene, and wishing I didn’t get my food. I had no where to go, no circle of friends to hang out and sit with, no one by my side to understand me, and most of all no one to converse with comfortably. As I walked on the streets of my quiet and empty neighborhood after my first day of school ended, tears fell down from my eyes;
I suddenly remembered my busy Chiu
neighborhood, the fish ball vendor, the store next door, the happy faces of the people around me, and most of all my friends. I directly walked inside my room, laid on the bed, covered my mouth with the pillow, closed my eyes, sobbed gently, and thought, “Was exchanging my hard but lively life be really worth it?”
