not young (Miss Saigon Part 2)

How others see us and how we see ourselves are entirely worlds apart. I never thought of myself as "not young" (I deleted "old" from my vocabulary, remember?). I don't mean I see myself as "young-looking" but I think of myself as young in terms of energy, health, style, dance moves, fashion sense, memory...ok, scrap that...eyesight, ok, scrap that, too…you know what I'm getting at. But a dose of reality is like a splash of cold water on the face...and lately, I've had my share of reality one too many, it's like taking a bath instead of a mere splash on the face.

I remember going through the stalls at Ben Thanh Market in Vietnam. I was already done with my shopping in the malls in the city and was just whiling away the time browsing through curious finds in the market before I leave for the airport for my flight home. The Vietnamese typically look like the Chinese or the Korean so I stood out like a sore thumb and the tinderas could spot me, a tourist, a mile away. Since I was done with my shopping and I thought that any additional items I'd buy would not possibly fit into my luggage, I was able to hold off the temptation to shop... until I passed by these tinderas who asked, "You from Manila? Pilipino?"

Surprised, I replied, "Yes. How can you tell?"

The tinderas answered, "Cos you're very pretty, miss!"

I bought several souvenir items and bags after that. I am such a pushover! A sucker! Uto-uto to the max! But it didn't matter to me that I was such a sucker - I felt like a "pretty miss" all the way home.

Home, however, was a different story. As soon as I stepped out of the terminal looking for the airport taxi, this guy called out to me, "Ale! Ale! Dito taxi. OFW ka?"

(Sigh) From "pretty miss" to "ale". What next - "Manang?" (So long I'm not called "P're") Nothing like being called "Ale" to remind me that I'm...not young.