It is entitled:
A Foreign Tongue
She wouldn't speak her native language.
She was born in the Philippines, and was raised on Filipino, English and Spanish. She had forgotten the Spanish, could still speak some English, and now, because she was living in Japan, she would only speak Japanese and English.
I was sitting at my desk; two students were waiting for the teacher who sits next to me, and they were doing the Gaikoku-jin (student) hover. Finally, out of nowhere, one of the girls pointed to her friend and said, "Gaijin (foreigner)."
I found this incredibly tactless and painful, but I rolled with it. Her friend was darker than most, spoke fluent Japanese and had been born in the Philippines.
"Ah, is that so? I once dated a girl who was half-Filipino. Her father was from the Philippines."
I showed them some pictures, and asked her many questions. I finally asked her what language she was raised on, and then asked her to say something in Filipino.
I had pushed the wrong button.
She fidgeted, glanced furtively around the room as if conducting a drug deal, but wouldn't say anything. Instead, she reached for a piece of paper and wrote the Filipino word for 'Good morning."
When I tried to pronounce it out loud, she actually winced, checked the room again, and nodded in approval.
Then I finally understood.
With a broken heart I told her she should be proud of her native country and her language. She only nodded, half-paying attention, still checking the teacher's room for eavesdroppers.
Her name is Ponciella.
I told her it was a beautiful name.
She doesn't think so.
Thank-you Jeff. Beautiful and sad.
Somewhere hoping she likes her name now,
Andrew Joseph
Today's title is by: Foreigner: WAITING
