Baguio Girl
She came to the interview with Carla (June’s sister we found out later) and I was relieved that at least she wasn’t too humble to speak, like the ones who came before her.
She asked if she could hold the baby. ‘Vaughan, Vaughan, aiaiaiai…nice boy, what a good boy,’ She cooed. Our two months old son who looked seriously at the moon-faced stranger eventually managed the beginning of a smile that made Consuelo shriek with delight.
‘Oh, m’am, you have a beautiful baby,’ She said.
We hired her. On her first day I told her it was quite all right for her to call me Cathy. She wouldn’t hear of it.
‘Oh no, m’am, no,’ she said with a smile that held the middle between great embarrassment and firm resolve. So, M’am and Sir it was for my husband and I during all those years she worked for us.
Consuelo Ramirez turned out to be a gem, helping me with the baby, cleaning the house and cooking up a storm. Not only her mouthwatering hot and sour chicken and prawn dishes, her crispy delicious spring-rolls, her out-of-this-world authentic Filipinos siopaos but also her Spanish gazpachos, her cocido and Spanish omelets where nothing to be sneered at.
Consuelo was blessed with a cheerful disposition; her melodic (sometimes melancholy) rendition of Filipino songs went straight to my heart.
Two months after she came to live with us my husband and I and our little son went on a three-week trip to see family and friends in the United States.
During our absence Consuelo met June and fell in love with him.
In time Consuelo felt more and more at ease with us and began to confide in me. She told me that her parents gave her to her mother’s childless sister when she was two years old.
Though she said she loved her adoptive mother she also felt resentment towards her because the woman was very possessive and allowed her to visit her real parents and brothers and sisters only once a month. Consuelo remembered feeling lonely and sad most of the time when she was young. However, her adoptive mother had married well and could afford to buy her pretty cloths and lots of toys, even send her to College that Consuelo dropped out of a year before her finals. Mrs. Ramirez selected a suitable husband for her daughter and came up with a balding, pot’ bellied sort, twice Consuelo’s age.
‘I never loved him, m’am. I didn’t even like him, he was so ugly,’ she said and, after a short reflection: “I didn’t like his smell. He always had this strange body-odor…’ She laughed.
‘I couldn’t stand it. So, one day I went into his desk when he was taking a nap. I knew where he kept money hidden, in case of emergency. I took it. I took it all…’ She gave me a conspiratorial look, ‘Twelve-hundred dollars.’
‘No,’ I put a hand in front of my mouth.
‘I left with one suitcase, like a thief in the night. I just had to get away from him, you know, and my mother. I felt like I was in prison all throughout my childhood. And I couldn’t refuse to marry him.’
‘Why not?’
She made futile movements. ‘I couldn’t, m’am, my mother had it all arranged. So…then I became a prisoner again. Worse though because I had to endure him making love to me as well.’ She made a face and I had to laugh.
‘You were very brave to take such a step, Consuelo. To leave your homeland, to travel thousands of miles….’
‘I never loved him, m’am. I didn’t even like him, he was so ugly,’ she said and, after a short reflection: “I didn’t like his smell. He always had this strange body-odor…’ She laughed.
‘I couldn’t stand it. So, one day I went into his desk when he was taking a nap. I knew where he kept money hidden, in case of emergency. I took it. I took it all…’ She gave me a conspiratorial look, ‘Twelve-hundred dollars.’
‘No,’ I put a hand in front of my mouth.
‘I left with one suitcase, like a thief in the night. I just had to get away from him, you know, and my mother. I felt like I was in prison all throughout my childhood. And I couldn’t refuse to marry him.’
‘Why not?’
She made futile movements. ‘I couldn’t, m’am, my mother had it all arranged. So…then I became a prisoner again. Worse though because I had to endure him making love to me as well.’ She made a face and I had to laugh.
‘You were very brave to take such a step, Consuelo. To leave your homeland, to travel thousands of miles….’
She came to Barcelona first and was lucky enough to find work in a restaurant. I didn’t take long before she made friends with other Filipino girls and after a few months she was offered a job with a Spanish family who had a house on Mallorca. They only spent the summer-vacation there but Consuelo stayed.
‘I’m very happy here, m’am,’ She told me one day, ‘you and sir are very kind to me and I love Vaughan. He is so sweet and easy.’ I couldn’t agree more.
The affair between Consuelo and June was riddled with complications right from the start. June (I never understood this name for a man) had been married off by his eldest sister Carla to a fat, bow’ legged woman who had recently come into a small inheritance.
They had a son the same age as our Vaughan; Moses was his name...
Sometimes June brought him over and the two children would play together.
Consuelo herself was still married in the Philippines; she explained to me that couples have to be separated seven years before they can file for divorce.
I must say I never cared much for Consuelo’s beau and handsome he certainly was not though it was his obsequious manner that rubbed me the wrong way.
‘What does she see in that guy?’ I complained to my husband as I had begun to feel very protective of Consuelo, as if she was a younger sister of mine.
‘Don’t get involved, ‘was his dry but well-meant advice.
Sometimes June brought him over and the two children would play together.
Consuelo herself was still married in the Philippines; she explained to me that couples have to be separated seven years before they can file for divorce.
I must say I never cared much for Consuelo’s beau and handsome he certainly was not though it was his obsequious manner that rubbed me the wrong way.
‘What does she see in that guy?’ I complained to my husband as I had begun to feel very protective of Consuelo, as if she was a younger sister of mine.
‘Don’t get involved, ‘was his dry but well-meant advice.
About two or three months into the relationship Consuelo, flustered and ill at ease, told me she was pregnant and would we please keep her on.
‘I’ll work until the end, m’am, ‘she emphasized, ‘it won’t make any difference, I promise.’
Sending our irreplaceable Consuelo packing never entered my mind, on the contrary, I was delighted with the happy news.
‘Of course you’ll stay on, don’t be silly,’ I said, ‘Vaughan will be so happy to have a playmate. Have you thought of a name yet?’
‘Of course you’ll stay on, don’t be silly,’ I said, ‘Vaughan will be so happy to have a playmate. Have you thought of a name yet?’
True to her word Consuelo carried on as usual throughout her pregnancy that came to an abrupt end one month early. It was a Sunday-morning, the day we were getting ready to throw a huge dinner-party (sixty-two guests attended), when she came into the parlor looking a bit pale.
‘M’am, my waters broke.’ She said. It was enough to send me into a flying panic. ‘Your water broke!’ I shrieked incredulous, ‘but…don’t you have pain? Contractions?’
She looked blankly at me.
‘Never mind, Greg! Gregory! Come quickly! Get up! Consuelo’s having the baby!’
My husband, disheveled but obliging got her to hospital in the nick of time.
Consuelo gave birth to a beautiful baby-girl who unfortunately, due to premature birth, had to stay in the incubator for over a month.
June was slow to catch on to his status of father of his mistress’s child. In fact he didn’t believe me when I called and told him Consuelo was in labor, dismissing the whole birth as a case of nerves on Consuelo’s part.
‘She gets very nervous, m’am,’ He said as I jumped from one foot onto the other trying to keep my cool.
‘My husband is on his way to the hospital with her, June!’ I urged.
‘She’s not due yet, m’am. It’s only eight months.’
You insensitive macho idiot! I hissed inwardly.
He didn’t go to see her and the baby until the next day because he wanted
to keep his commitment to us to cook and serve for the party together with three other Filipinos, which my husband thought commendable of him but which infuriated me.
‘He could’ve called someone else to take over!’ I fumed. My husband didn’t understand why I got so worked up about it all.
‘You let yourself get too involved, darling,’ he said, ‘they’re servants, not your friends.’
I was speechless, unable to counter such snobbery.
‘Never mind, Greg! Gregory! Come quickly! Get up! Consuelo’s having the baby!’
My husband, disheveled but obliging got her to hospital in the nick of time.
Consuelo gave birth to a beautiful baby-girl who unfortunately, due to premature birth, had to stay in the incubator for over a month.
June was slow to catch on to his status of father of his mistress’s child. In fact he didn’t believe me when I called and told him Consuelo was in labor, dismissing the whole birth as a case of nerves on Consuelo’s part.
‘She gets very nervous, m’am,’ He said as I jumped from one foot onto the other trying to keep my cool.
‘My husband is on his way to the hospital with her, June!’ I urged.
‘She’s not due yet, m’am. It’s only eight months.’
You insensitive macho idiot! I hissed inwardly.
He didn’t go to see her and the baby until the next day because he wanted
to keep his commitment to us to cook and serve for the party together with three other Filipinos, which my husband thought commendable of him but which infuriated me.
‘He could’ve called someone else to take over!’ I fumed. My husband didn’t understand why I got so worked up about it all.
‘You let yourself get too involved, darling,’ he said, ‘they’re servants, not your friends.’
I was speechless, unable to counter such snobbery.
Naturally I went to see mother and child immediately, spending twenty minutes accusing hospital staff of not telling me straight which room she was in; turned out I, in my eagerness and nerves, had dashed off to the wrong clinic.
I spent some tight moments when Consuelo was urged by three elderly Filipino women who sat pontifically at the bed’s end when I arrived, red in the face from agitation, to name the baby Resurrection because this day happened to be the resurrection of Christ.
I made all kinds of urgent signals to Consuelo with my eyes not to heed their counsel.
‘You can call her Rexie for short,’ one of the black crows added sternly.
No, no, no, no! I mouthed to Consuelo who smiled in first motherhood bliss.
‘You can call her Rexie for short,’ one of the black crows added sternly.
No, no, no, no! I mouthed to Consuelo who smiled in first motherhood bliss.
She did not call the girl Resurrection. ‘Sounds like erection,’ she giggled when the elderly ladies were gone. We were close friends by now, Consuelo and I.
Instead the perfect pink little darling was called Sparkle Melissa, a name that took my breath away.
The birth of Sparkle Melissa caused Consuelo’s adoptive mother great grief because it was a sin, she argued, for Consuelo, being a married woman, to have given birth to an illegitimate child.
‘Would she have wanted you to have an abortion?’ I inquired trying to understand where the woman was coming from since abortions are a definite no-no for Catholics.
‘No,’ Consuelo answered, ‘she is angry because I let myself get pregnant.’
We sat in silence for a while.
‘But I love June and she was wrong to force me to marry someone I don’t love.’ Consuelo added with a dismissing wave of a chubby hand.
That’s true too, I thought, so, what’s the solution?
‘Well, you have a lovely baby, Consuelo,’ I said, ‘but I think you should be careful though, you know. Take precaution. Children are a big responsibility.’
‘But I love June and she was wrong to force me to marry someone I don’t love.’ Consuelo added with a dismissing wave of a chubby hand.
That’s true too, I thought, so, what’s the solution?
‘Well, you have a lovely baby, Consuelo,’ I said, ‘but I think you should be careful though, you know. Take precaution. Children are a big responsibility.’
Consuelo had Sparkle christened when she was six months old. It was a double christening (the other baby a boy) and the party afterwards was a spectacular culinary feast complete with a suckling pig. I did a double take when I saw the carcass hanging from the ceiling of the scullery when I went to the bathroom. Some macho Filipino men got drunk and started fighting, Consuelo told me later. Luckily we had left before it came to that.
‘Don’t forget, All Souls day is coming up!’ She used to warn me. I never acquired an affinity for religious doctrines, in fact I have no patience for it at all however, I was moved, misty-eyed, every time she remembered and put candles at my parents’ pictures and kept them burning until sundown.
‘No, it’s true, sir,’ Consuelo, though laughing, stuck to her guns when my husband ridiculed her story about a tiny Filipino island where according to legend, the people change into giant bats at night and fly over to neighboring islands to molest the islanders, especially pregnant women.
‘Consuelo, that’s a horrible tale! You don’t believe such nonsense, do you?’ I was appalled. But our Baguio girl swore it still happens.
I was told they eat dog meat in the Philippines; my husband used to tease Consuelo, saying: ‘Consuelo, you’re not going to cook up our dog, are you?’
Unperturbed she answered: ‘No, sir, I wouldn’t, your dog has been vaccinated.’ She could dish it as well as she could take it, commenting to me one day when one of the toilets was stuffed: ‘Perhaps Sir’s bowel is too big!’ which had me reeling with laughter, recounting this ridiculous notion of hers to him, naturally, I couldn’t help myself.
He was not amused.
He was not amused.
I gave birth to another healthy baby boy; we named him Dexter. Not too long afterwards Consuelo was pregnant again as well. However, she tried to get rid of the embryo with the help of a so-called friend who made her eat some concoction that indeed killed the fetus but caused such severe internal infection that Consuelo herself almost died.
I couldn’t believe the state she was in one morning when she came upstairs to work; she looked like a ghost, with eyes going haywire in their sockets.
Again Gregory rushed her over to the hospital where she stayed for three weeks, the first in intensive care.
Again Gregory rushed her over to the hospital where she stayed for three weeks, the first in intensive care.
Consuelo clipped Sparkle’s eyelashes when the baby was six weeks old.
‘It makes the lashes grow very long, m’am,’ She explained when I noticed one day that the baby seemed to be in distress. ‘What utter nonsense!’ I barked though it’s true that I never saw longer lashes on anyone, child or grown-up in my life.
‘Where we live the climate is very mild, m’am, Baguio is high in the mountains. It is so beautiful there. I hope you and sir will visit one day.’ Consuelo got homesick now and then, having been away from her native soil for over seven years.
When Sparkle was on year old, Consuelo did something that to this day I don’t understand and at the time distressed me terribly.
She went to Madrid and gave the child to a friend who was going to the Philippines, to take her to her parents. I tried to talk her out of this ill-judged plan till I saw blue in the face but she wouldn’t listen.
‘No, m’am, it’s better. She’ll get Filipino culture.’
‘You’re her mother! She needs you! You can give her that culture!’ I argued.
‘Better schools. We have lots of American things in the Philippines, m’am.’ She was adamant.
‘Consuelo, please, don’t send Sparkle away!’ I pleaded. I begged. I cried myself to sleep every night. Even Gregory stepped in and offered to pay for Kindergarten and all the nappies. Consuelo wouldn’t budge; off she went, our little China doll.
‘I miss my baby!’ Consuelo cried as she fell into my arms when she returned from Madrid the next day.
Luckily I did have enough sense not to say: ‘I told you so!’ Instead I said we would talk to Sir and send for her as soon as possible.
But that never happened. Consuelo was at peace with her decision and little Sparkle disappeared out of our lives for good; all we had left of her were some photos.
‘No, m’am, it’s better. She’ll get Filipino culture.’
‘You’re her mother! She needs you! You can give her that culture!’ I argued.
‘Better schools. We have lots of American things in the Philippines, m’am.’ She was adamant.
‘Consuelo, please, don’t send Sparkle away!’ I pleaded. I begged. I cried myself to sleep every night. Even Gregory stepped in and offered to pay for Kindergarten and all the nappies. Consuelo wouldn’t budge; off she went, our little China doll.
‘I miss my baby!’ Consuelo cried as she fell into my arms when she returned from Madrid the next day.
Luckily I did have enough sense not to say: ‘I told you so!’ Instead I said we would talk to Sir and send for her as soon as possible.
But that never happened. Consuelo was at peace with her decision and little Sparkle disappeared out of our lives for good; all we had left of her were some photos.
She had a baby boy in our house, also by June, however, a few months before this baby’s birth June took up with another mistress who was three months pregnant with his child.
Consuelo was heartbroken; I tried my best to console her.
‘He was no good to begin with, Consuelo, put him out of your mind. You’re better off without him. He’s a womanizer, he’ll go from one to the next, and so on, and so forth. You’re young, there’ll be another man, a real man. You just wait and see.’ I said. She looked so forlorn and vulnerable, I wanted to go out and strangle that guy.
‘He’s got very bad penmanship.’ Consuelo said while polishing and re-polishing the silver. ‘Right. He’s just no good.’ I agreed.
‘He was no good to begin with, Consuelo, put him out of your mind. You’re better off without him. He’s a womanizer, he’ll go from one to the next, and so on, and so forth. You’re young, there’ll be another man, a real man. You just wait and see.’ I said. She looked so forlorn and vulnerable, I wanted to go out and strangle that guy.
‘He’s got very bad penmanship.’ Consuelo said while polishing and re-polishing the silver. ‘Right. He’s just no good.’ I agreed.
Maxwell was a handful; I told myself not to get too attached to him, which was impossible of course.
She’ll ship him off too, I thought, reminding myself to follow my husband’s advice not to interfere with other people’s affairs or to judge other people’s customs. It didn’t make the farewell any easier though.
Once Gregory offered to buy a piece of land for Consuelo in the Philippines so that she could grow crops or rice and start a business over there. She declined, saying: ‘This is not a good time, Sir.’
Consuelo left us. It was bound to happen of course and I was happy for her. It all went rather suddenly. Knowing better by now not to pry, no questions were asked.
She went back to the Philippines, heavy with child.
‘At least you’ll be reunited with your children, Consuelo, that’s good.’ I said to her.
‘Yes,’ she said, smiling willfully, leaving me to wonder what our Baguio girl was up to.
Dark clouds began to gather above my marriage-vessel at about this time and by the time Consuelo gave birth to her third child in the Philippines; the sky came crashing down on us in Spain. Everything changed!
Later I tried to reconstruct, figure out where exactly things had started to tear and break down.
Without knowing how, why or when the moment of no return passed and Gregory and I were heading full steam towards divorce-proceedings.
Without knowing how, why or when the moment of no return passed and Gregory and I were heading full steam towards divorce-proceedings.
Consuelo came back to Spain, leaving her three children with her family. We met a couple of times in town and over coffee talked about the happy times when children’s laughter, my ex-husband’s joking around with her and my singing filled our lovely home.
She met a nice Filipino man with whom she has been living together for quite some time now. We write each other regularly, she still sees my ex-husband now and then and in her last letter expressed hope that perhaps one day Sir and M’am could overcome our mistakes of the past and start anew.
Dear Consuelo…how many times I wished for that to happen….
~