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The Hunchback, The River and The Creator of God

Last December, my mother and I thought of visiting our relatives in the nearby province. I thought it would be good because I haven’t seen them in decades.

Before Christmas, after my last work related travel, we went to visit them.

When we arrived at one of my mother’s siblings, my uncle greeted me with this question, “Was this the place the hunchback fell and rolled?”

I laughed. Everybody laughed. I was confused. They weren’t.

My uncle pointed to me a particular mountain very far from where we stood. He told me that he used to carry me as we climbed those mountains. I remembered we use live across, behind those mountains. My uncle reminded me that when we were on top, I asked him if this was the place the hunchback fell and rolled.

The hunchback came from this silly kid song we used to sing when I was young. The title of the song was “Paru-parong Bukid”. The song narrated the journey of the hunchback and how he was healed.

The following day, we visited another uncle. They were glad to see us or at least glad to make fun of me. A much older cousin asked me if I still wanted to know how deep the deepest river is.

Then, she narrated the story. I used to accompany her wash clothes at the riverbank. She told me to sit on the rock and not to go down the water because it was deep. She also told me that the darker the color, the deeper the water. Then it came out from me the question how deep the deepest river is. She told me that I was so insistent to be given an answer my small brain can comprehend. She failed.

In the afternoon, we went to visit another relative hoping that there wouldn’t be another silly-me memories. They were happy to see us. We stayed longer. We had our dinner. Just as we were about to cap the night, my cousin asked me if already knew who created God.

Not again, I thought. So what is the story this time, I asked.

This cousin is also much older than I am. She stayed in our house for a few years. She said that one day while I was sitting by the window looking outside I asked her who created God.

I cannot remember all those incidents. I was only six years old. I don’t know what I was thinking about.

I wonder if I would I know more questions I asked when I was still a kid if I visit more relatives.

One thing that I learned from that visit, I haven’t changed much.

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