Daddy was da type dat woke up at da crack of dawn. Sometimes I think he woke up da chickens. He didn't believe in sleeping in. Weekend mornings at about 6:00 a.m. he would be yelling at us, "You guys miss da money fall down from da sky." And us kids would be all moaning and groaning, "Not Daddy". He'd say, "How you know no moe? How come I get money and you no moe. I pau pickem' all up awreddy. Hud luck you kids no moe money. I can go ta-rate now."
Daddy had a custom made wooden box. Inside there was a removable tray with holes, the tray was half the size of the box. On one side, there was wrappings you put around da chicken leg and other chicken fight supplies. In the tray with holes were assorted sizes of small thin knives especially used in chicken fights. Me and my Brudah would watch real close wen Daddy would be fixing or cleaning da box of knives.
Our itchy hands would reach to try pick up one knife. And us would get our hand slapped every time we got close. But hud heads we'd try again. One time Daddy said, "stick out your finga." He told me not to move, be real still. Then he placed the knife flat on top of my finger. I barely felt the cold steel and then he lifted it up. I was all, Duh? I neva feel notting. He said, "suck yo'finga." As I sucked my finga I could taste da blood and when I looked at my finger there was like a paper cut. Daddy said, "See why I tell you no touch. You neva touch somebody knife. You neva know wot kine stuff dey put, bumby poison wot, you dunno. So no humbug!" as I get anada slap on da hand.
Small kid time, my Mom use to go Beauty Shop every other Saturday morning to get her hair done. And every Saturday afta Daddy dropped her off he'd tell us da same story. He would say, "I dunno why her pay money fo'make her hay-ya look all da kine punsey. All you gotta do is sit unda da chicken coup. Da chicken etay fall on top yo'head, all pau cova, washem'. Hoooo, ol'same beautyshop sameting dat one!" And we would crack up laughing. I use to wonda if as a baby did I sit unda da chicken coup because I was born with one Shirley Temple perm.
When I was little, my Grandma in Kauai told me I was tall. I always believed her, Grandma's don't lie. Daddy use to call me "potote". In High School was the first time I heard someone refer to me as "petite". Now, "petite" sounds tiny and dainty. "Potote" sounds like potato, round and brown and tita-ish. I like to think I'm petite but truth is, I round and brown, tita-ish!
I use to hear Daddy tell this one story; sometimes it sounded serious and sometimes it sounded like a joke. I heard it in so many ways depending on what mood he was in and who he was talking to. Da story was about da death of Magellan. I first heard da story wen I was real little and I tawt Magellan was one Manong. Daddy would joke about so and so's cousin is da one dat killed Magellan. Or dat it was his cousin who killed Magellan la dat. The story was always said in jest and everybody would be laughing wen pau. I never knew the story word for word because it was told in Visayan and I only understood bits and pieces, nouns and verbs, not da hard words. I remember him mentioning Lapulapu on da beach. Now dat name alone I tawt was one joke. How come Filipino names, got dat repetitive syllable thing going on?
Then in Social Studies we learned about explorers, Magellan being one of them. Ooops, he wasn't Filipino. In a textbook there was a picture of a conflict on the beach in Cebu where Magellan was slain by Lapulapu's warriors. Oh, wow laulau, these could be my relatives? For each child; a parent has a major guilt trip a.k.a. "you ungrateful child" story. Daddy's story for me was da "loaf of bread" one. When I was being lectured for my major kolohe-ness he would always bring up dis story. He would say, "Baby time you heavy like one loaf bread. How heavy one loaf bread? Who wake up two tree clock rock you up down all night? Baby time pretty most you maki! How come you stay hea now?"
As an adult I learned I had measles as an infant. I never got to say thank you to Daddy. So these stories I share with everyone is my way of saying, "Thanks Daddy." What's ironic is I can write these stories better then I can tell them, and Daddy could really tell a story but couldn't read or write but da bugga could do math.
About Author
Linda "Lika" Relacion Oosahwe was born at Queens Hospital raised in Fernandez Village/Ewa and Waipahu. She currently lives in Arizona. She has three children; Quannee Mokihana, Star Leinaala, and Keokuk Hokule'a a.k.a Quan, STA & BoBOY! A palm reader once told her she would have three husbands. She's way behind, she still working on her first one and it's been 26 years!! When she grows up she wants to be "financially independent" currently she is "financially embarrassed"!
