I just thought about them as my aunts. I was in grade four when Mother rented a barbecue space along Fields Avenue in Balibago. When my parents separated and the cocktail lounge that Mother used to own and run folded up, she kept connected with the bar girls and the American servicemen who frequented the area. But she did not want to lose all her contacts either. So much was at stake. Maybe, I could think of a business that does not require too much work and too many people, she said.
This gave her an idea to open a small space where she could run a barbecue business, something that she could personally handle and was easier to manage. She eventually opened this during the summer vacation and obliged me to help her, since I had no classes, together with two distant nieces she brought from Bicol during her last trip to Matnog. My sister had a job at that time and my brother was simply uncooperative.
Every early afternoon, she would come from the market and I would help her marinate the chicken and pork meat. I would use bamboo sticks to put the necks of chickens, the gizzards, and the hotdogs together. She would also buy bundles of sampaguita garlands and rose corsages. They want to give flowers to their girls so I bought these, too. More from EsquireMag. But I sensed that they were acting rather funny and strange because of the weird sexy dresses and thick makeup they wore, the erotic dancing and incessant cussing, and the dating and kissing of different men every night.
Maybe they were a different kind of girl, I thought. I sensed that they were acting rather funny and strange because of the weird sexy dresses and thick make-up they wore, he erotic dancing and incessant cussing, and the dating and kissing of different men every night. At about six in the evening, we would go to the barbecue stall, carrying two basins full of marinated meat, a Styrofoam ice chest containing more meat without barbecue sticks, an improvised cash register, and some loose change.
I would place a generous amount of charcoal on the grilling container and start building a fire. While fanning, thick smoke would strain my eyes. She started counting the change. Mother had to call for two more helpers to assist us in serving the customers. My face felt like it was almost red because of the heat coming from the grill, as sweat dripped from my forehead. But I was happy fanning the hotdogs and the chicken breasts.
