Yaya taught me well . . .

By Emmanuelle

THE reason why I have such a vivid and colorful imagination is because I had a yaya with the most vivid and colorful of imaginations.

Not because of the mama, who seemed to have just enough time after work for a quick sleep, a quick meal and an even quicker hi bibi give me a hug tsup tsup be good ngarud. She closes-opens one hand for bye-bye and she’s gone the rest of the day till night, back she comes.

Not the dada, who is more overseas than over here.

It is because of the yaya. She of the pony tail, thick lashes and even thicker glasses. She of the red freckles and of the even redder pimples.  She, who at frail sixteen, received this week-old infant into her arms and into her heart.

But, then, one does not have to have unwed and never will be wedded parents to feel so unwanted. One’s parents may be the most wedded, yet one still would feel so unwanted for being so unplan-ned.

This is the second of a series, the first of which was No baby talks like this baby, this May 16 issue of the Sunday Punch. In point of fact, no baby did, maybe no baby ever will. Except for this one. Aya labat. Daytoy laeng.

Ayah is not short for yaya. The two words have the same number of letters, you must have noticed. One does not have to be a math wizard to count Ayah has four letters and that yaya also has four.

Ayah is yaya with a sigh. Meaning Ayah is this baby saying Yaya is Here, then add H for a sigh. Not the Mama, not the Dada; but Ayah! Sigh.

You ask: What is the sigh for, bibi? Sigh for thank you, it’s Ayah, not the Mama, not the Dada? Or sigh for Ay, it’s Ayah lang pala?

Ay, snub lang kita.

Anyway, that is not the story here. The story here is about pinabli min Dagupan – my birth city and that of my Ayah.

As I said before, long before my Dada and my Mama knew, my Ayah knew I was a genius in the bud at less than a year old.

Ayah gave me the first lessons in the basics of numbers, the precision of words, the eccentricity of history and the complexity of humanity. I loved most getting to know the basics, the precision, the eccentricity and the complexity of all of the four topics. She did not make it easy, mind you. Not a single one of these subjects were and are ever easy.

I was only less than a year old when we started getting to know all about them. And always, we began the knowing with the song, getting to know you, getting to know all about you. Ayah, while pushing my walker, would raise her head to the sky and sing at the top of her Reginely voice. And I, seated and belted safely, would extend my head as high as my plump neck would allow. I would reach two plump hands to the sky and howl ow yow ow yow!

And that is how I got to begin to know about the women who became among the best, if not the best leaders of pinabli min Dagupan.

Ayah pushed me to meet her heroines. And I let her.

(To be continued.)

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