'What Things Too Big Can Fit in Small Boxes'

What Things Too Big Can Fit in Small Boxes

All that I love

I fold over once

And once again

And put in a box…

- Edith L. Tiempo from "Bonsai"

Before I got married, I’ve moved houses only once, and along the same road. My parents moved to Kamias before they had my brother; then moved again, just across the road, where they had me. I was around 11 when we moved again, ten blocks away. That was a long time ago.

I remember feeling sad, because I was leaving behind my neighborhood friends. There was pale Cheche, whose hair was brown because of the sun, and whose toes and their dividing arches were always dirty. We used to play around a gravel depot (where I think his father worked), and pretended to climb mountains, which were really just sand molehills. My brother once dug a hole at the peak of a hill, put dog poop in it, covered it with newspaper, then buried the newspaper with a thin layer of sand. He egged me to climb up and find his surprise, and stupid that I was, I did, and landed on poop. Cheche laughed like there was no tomorrow. The place was called WilVic, the spot where the tragic QC Manor Hotel was later built and burned.

There was also the small boy, whom we called "anak ni Aguila"...

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