By Rex Catubig

 

SOMETIME ago, Jessica Soho’s magazine show lovingly recounted the reunion after seven decades, of a simple house help and her American ward. The story harkened back to the magical times my cousins and I spent with our housemaid. More than the cleaning, cooking, and washing of clothes that she did, this plain woman with barely an education became our wonder woman travel guide through life’s wondrous moments.

I remember how we would skip our afternoon nap (a must during my childhood in the barrio), and we would excitedly gather around her and prevail upon her to tell us stories. Starting reluctantly, she would slowly spin her tale, the way she would stir the food she was cooking, then, gathering her thoughts like preparing ingredients, she would stoke the fire of her stove of imagination, and simmer stories of adventure and victory.

Once she gained momentum, she would launch into a surreal odyssey, take us to strange, unfamiliar turf, and introduce us to these valiant figures who gallantly rise above their predicament against all odds. In one instance, the hero victim was buried neck deep in the ground by his enemies. But by sheer survival skill and true grit, he cleverly extricated and freed himself, then, after having regained foothold, he rallied his troop and took his turn to throw his arch rivals to the ground.

At our young age, her stories of triumphal adventures, of ordinary folk evolving into heroic figures, taught us that though life has its own reward, it was not meant to be an easy ride. It is a rough and tumble game, wrestling with the gods and powers-that-be. Nonetheless, one can ride through the bumps and hurdles, outwit the machinations of life, and with forceful will, strength of character, and uncompromising valor, claim victory at the end of the race.

These primeval lessons that this unlettered woman fetched instinctively from her well of fertile imagination, and which she passed on to us in colorful storytelling, provided us with our primary education way before we could even read the Caton.

The imaginative female househelp was the first Thomasite in our barrio. There was no fanfare to announce her arrival. She came simply and unobtrusively and made herself an indispensable part of the family. And she did not come with an array of books but rather, just a wicker basket of wonderful stories that teased our imagination, inspired our novice minds, and taught our hearts to dream.