When You Get Too Involved--Part 1

The fight started because of us—Adam and me—when we decided to get involved.

Adam got me hooked on a cheesy Warner Brother’s T.V. series I would never watch at home (since I don’t have a T.V.) but somehow it’s been something we watch almost nightly on DVD. Usually Mart and his friend Raul join us, and the four of us huddle in the dark around Adam’s laptop. Adam and I tell the two boys to cover their eyes when a scene gets a little risqué—and I always laugh as they pull the blankets over their faces.

May-ug (Mai-ohg)—the teenage girl who lives next door and helps the family—isn’t usually allowed to join us. Lola doesn’t want her to come to Adam’s house, but I can’t figure out why. Is it because May-ug is second class in her eyes even though she’s a relative (since she helps at the house), or is it because she’s a female and it wouldn’t be appropriate? Adam and I think it’s more likely the first reason, which angers both of us. May-ug is just a teenager. She’s a third year (junior), she paints her toe nails pink and reads Cosmopolitan when someone else buys them—they’re around 4USD here, which is expensive. She and I talk about her guy friends, the girls who gossip about her at school, and the guy who was her boyfriend once—I’m not supposed to tell.

It bothers me that Lola won’t let May-ug come over, and that she sometimes treats her poorly. Like when her birthday hardly earned a nod, and the way May-ug can’t come over and hang out with me because she has to do chores all the time. It’s not healthy for May-ug either. A few weeks ago, Lola yelled at her for not feeding the ducks (though she had) and May-ug had heart palpitations, her extremities numbed, and she almost passed out. The doctor had to come over and do a check-up. She’s not used to being yelled at or treated like second class. She’s just a kid, and when she’s finished with her chores it should be okay for her to relax and hang out. I realize that’s my opinion (and Adam’s) as an outsider, but it affected what unfolded a few nights ago.

We’d had a great dinner—good food and a lot of chatting and laughter at the table. Adam, Mart, his friend Raul, and May-ug had sat around with us for awhile after meal talking. We decided to watch the season finale of our W.B. show—Smallville. Mart and Raul were going to come over, but Lola wouldn’t let May-ug. I went into the kitchen to say goodnight to May-ug who was washing the dishes as she does every night. I saw that she was crying.

“Hey,” I said to her, “You want to talk? You need a hug?” She didn’t respond to me, which was unusual since we’ve actually gotten pretty close. She just kept washing. I put a hand on her back and stayed there for a little while, and then I left to find Adam.

“What’s going on? Why is May-ug crying?”

Adam shook his head. “I don’t know, but Lola won’t let her join us to watch Smallville.”

“Why not?”

“Well, there’s been some tension going on all night. I don’t know if you heard this, but Lola went into the kitchen after dinner and started washing dishes. May-ug saw her and said that she would do them. Then Lola said, ‘Why don’t you just sit there and keep telling your stories!’”

Basically, Lola had gotten angry at May-ug for sitting around with us after dinner.

“That’s ridiculous! What’s going on with Lola? Why is she acting like that?”

Adam looked around and then leaned forward. “I don’t know, but there’s something else too. Mart doesn’t want me to tell you—or anyone.” He started to whisper. “I guess the other night they had been joking that May-ug wants to marry a white man. Lola yelled at May-ug and said, ‘Fine—why don’t you marry a white man! Then he can get you pregnant and leave you like Adam’s father did!’”

I knew Adam’s history, and it was much like many other Americans. His parents had married, it hadn’t worked out, and his mother remarried. They don’t understand that concept here: step-families. Divorce is not acceptable in this culture, and many Filipinos judge Americans by their many divorces, even though infidelity is happenstance here in the Philippines.

“Yeah, I don’t even want to address what that says about her opinion of American men, and what she might think of me,” Adam said, shaking his head, “The point is: there’s some tension going on with her and May-ug.”

“What should we do? Just forget about it?”

“I think we should go talk to Lola,” he said, “Why don’t we go ask her if she’ll let May-ug join us? She can’t treat her like this.”

“I don’t know—I think we should talk to Auntie Lourdes, you know, go through a third party.” That’s how they address issues around here. Instead of going to someone directly, which might lead to a loss of “face;” you go to a third party who will then tell that person for you.

Adam thought that was a good idea, but thought we should see if May-ug could come and hang out with us tonight anyway. He thought if we both went in there and asked nicely that she might agree as a favor to us. I didn’t feel comfortable with it—I thought it might intimidate her and I knew she had a better relationship with Adam. I thought he should ask by himself. But, I agreed to it anyway, and we walked into Lola’s room together. Adam did all the talking, while I stood by and watched.

When we both walked in, Lola looked at the two of us, and then back at her sneakers as she sat on her bed and put in new white laces. Adam explained the situation in Ifugao, and she smiled as she responded, but she wouldn’t look directly at either of us as she shrugged her shoulders and tried to appear like she didn’t care. We walked out of the room and back down stairs again and Adam shook his head. He didn’t totally understand what she was saying, so Mart came down and explained that Lola had said it was okay if she joined us. But I knew something else was going on.

May-ug, still sniffling, walked past us and up the stairs. I could hear Lola’s voice for a minute, and then May-ug’s, and then suddenly the two started yelling at each other. I heard Adam’s name mentioned a few times, but other than that I didn’t understand. We left the house and went over to his house, just next door. He hadn’t understood what either of the women had said, and we just paced around, wondering what we should have done differently.

“Lola’s just an old woman stuck in her ways,” Adam said.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t give her any right to treat May-ug like a slave,” I said.
“I know, but what can we do about it? We have to talk to Auntie Lourdes tomorrow, I guess, and tell her to have Lola stop treating her like this.”

We talked for a bit, and then opened Adam’s back door. Because Adam’s backyard is linked to the neighbor’s (same as mine) I could see May-ug standing out in the back, on the concrete porch. She was sobbing and staring off into the dark night, the town lights below her. I wanted to comfort her, but wasn’t sure if I should. I wished we hadn’t gotten involved—hadn’t made things worse—but it was too late to turn back now.

“You should go be with her,” Adam said. “Don’t say anything, just stand next to her.”

I nodded my head and walked out into the night.