Elsietampong's Blog

When I was a little girl, my father used to frequent the mahjongg tables of my godfather, Ninong (Godfather) Pedro M. Cruz.  I would go with my Dad and I would watch the players play mahjongg.  It was with strange curiosity that I would hear them say, “Pong”, “Kang” “mahjong”.  Then they would stop and resume their game. I would spend hours and days watching them.

During their breaks, they would ask me, “What is your name?”

And I would answer, “Elsie”.  Then, since I was around them so often, they decided to baptize me, “Elsie-tam-Pong!”  That was the first name that stuck to me.  For a while, in that small friendly community, I became “Elsie Tam Pong!” with an exclamation point at the end.

I liked the name.  It had a cheery tone to it.  “Elsie Tam Pong!” I would answer every time anyone asked me what name I had.

I watched with strange fascination those mahjongg tablets (what did they call them?)  that clicked everytime they were shuffled, thrown, or made into walls. In the beginning, Ninong Cruz had tablets made of real ivory.  Then, as time went on, the tablets became more colorful.  My favorite were those tablets that were almost translucent. I remember that translucent white tablets with shocking green covering.

I didn’t know that my father’s spending time playing mahjongg was causing a lot of friction between my mother and him.  Many times,  my father would be called to play when one player was missing. You had to have four players in each table.  He was just the spare guy and I think my father was just humoring my Ninong Cruz because my Ninong had helped my Dad position himself in the army during the war.  So it was sort of a pay-back work.

Well, things started to become bad at the home front.  I found myself being dragged by my mother to movies to kill time, waiting for my Dad to finish his “duty” at the mahjongg tables.  When it became very late, there would be no more public buses to bring us to the house of Ninong Cruz. I remember sitting on the gutter of the main road near the Quiapo Church while my mother searched for a bus.

The fights between my father and my mother started. Then they escalated. They made sure we didn’t hear them fight.  They usually went to a small  room for their clothes that was attached to their bedroom.  Their clothes muffled the sounds of their fights.  I knew that I was asked by my father with whom I would go, in case they separated.  It was a difficult decision for a four year old to make.  I had no doubts that I loved my father more, but he was always stationed outside Manila. Who would take care of me?

I don’t remember now what happened.  All I know was that my Dad and I stopped going to my Ninong Cruz for my Dad to play mahjongg on a daily basis, and  for a while, people stopped calling me “Elsie Tam Pong!” I also know that my parents decided that their marriage was stable enough to continue their marriage.  So when I turned 6 years old, we had another child in the family, and then another one the next year after that.

This entry was posted on April 5, 2010 at 1:14 am and is filed under Family Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.