Visiting Luce’s family in Iloilo

As the third week of April approached, there were moments when I felt slightly hesitant to make the trip to Iloilo, largely because of deadlines and tasks ahead. But a promise made, is a promise meant to be kept. Plus, it was something discussed last November. Deep down inside, I knew that if I forgo this trip, I might live to regret it. 

In my time there, I was privy to the life of Luce, my domestic helper who has been with us for 18 years - the life she had left behind. You know, it is one thing to hear stories of home and her family, but it’s another thing altogether to put a face to these names, have meaningful exchanges with people close to her and see the house her remittance was used for. 

It’s been almost two decades in Singapore; she has since upgraded from a tiny bamboo shack to a humble abode made of concrete. While I thought it still lacked some fine finishing touches – since there were no tiles/linoleum sheet; some ply wood partitioned room; and the absence of the usual painted walls, Luce remarked that there was “no need for big house, now we have the outside porch, it is good enough. Just be happy with what we have can already.” They recently added a small 8 x 2m porch by the side of the house to host guests. The cost was covered by the sale of their recent corn harvest and Shona Mae’s remittances (she currently works as a domestic worker in Macau to supplement the family’s income). Luce’s salary goes to funding her second daughter, Joy’s, university education. 

Life in the village is simple. Some days, they eat rice with one dish. If there are relatives staying over, no one fights for the bed. They lay the floor with blankets and make do with it. They are fine with hand-me-downs. On a couple of occasions, I recognized a couple of tops, which once sat forgotten in my cupboard, fitted snuggly on someone else. 

What touched me most was to meet her family and the hospitality they accorded me. Initially, I was slightly apprehensive. Will there be an air of hostility – since the employer’s daughter, the one whom they had to share their mother’s love with, is there? I cannot even begin to imagine how life would be like if my own mother left me when I was aged 4 or 7 for such a long period of time, only visiting for a few weeks every two years. But thankfully, they treated me like family. Shona Mae, who was also on home leave, brought me out to meet her friends and to visit different barangays (villages). She made sure I was still doing fine when I was squeezing hip to hip with other passengers on the jeepney. She also bought me lots of local delights to bring home. Joy, on the other hand, was slightly more reserved but just as attentive. I thought we had a nice conversation by the chicken coop one day as we watched the evening light shine down those fields of gold. 

I thought a lot during this trip – about life chances and the poverty cycle; about family relationship and power dynamics – but that’s for another time. I’m gonna cap off this post with my favourite image of the Mamon family. Felt it was only right to help them make some family portraits together, so we spent an evening in the fields. I can’t quite remember what they were laughing about, but here’s to many more happy and healthy days ahead.

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