I Will Be The One

I first published this in my online newsletter "Philippine Dreams" in 2005. It was very well received by my readers and gave a hint to the writerly skill of this bearded expat living in Cebu. It shows a very clear appreciation of Filipino culture and the often paradoxical relationship of these fine people with those foreigners who choose to call the Philippines, 'home'.

Perry Gamsby 2009



I Will Be the One

 2005 by Jeff Lassen


I had never been happier in my life! Living a comfortable life on a pension which would have had me in poverty back home; sunshine, usually; balmy ocean breezes; the beach; friendly people; beautiful young women everywhere: retirement in the Philippines was my idea of paradise!

I had rented a little house on the beach on the outskirts of a small town near Ormoc, Leyte. It was an idyllic setting! Palms were all around and the water was almost at my door. Peaceful in the extreme. What more could I want?

Well, someone to take care of me and the house. I let it be known to my friend in town that I would like to hire a helper.

The next morning I awakened to a gentle tapping. When I had managed to throw on a pair of shorts and opened the gate, there was a delightful young woman looking shyly at her toes.

“Good morning, Sir! I am Angelisa. Uncle says I will be the one to take care of you.”

I invited her in to conduct an interview. She wouldn’t perch anywhere, just wandered around the kitchen area opening cupboards, getting the lay of the place. I kept asking her to come sit so we could talk but she seemed to not understand at all. Soon she presented me with a cup of tea and some crackers - all she had been able to find in my poorly stocked kitchen.

She stood shyly by until I finally convinced her to sit down.

“I do need a helper, Angelisa,” I said.

“I will be the one!” she replied.

It seemed that the interview was over! Short of being very rude to her, I had found my helper.

We did manage to communicate a little: set her salary; discovered who Uncle was - a neighbor and acquaintance of mine already. We had a small disagreement about where she should sleep. She had started to unpack her few things in my bedroom. It took some time to convince her that she was to have her own room. After a little insecurity and pouting, she seemed to finally get the idea that I truly wanted a house helper - a maid.

That first day she took care of everything! I hardly had to ask and the house was cleaned. The meals were prepared. The laundry was done. She was pleasant but unobtrusive, most of the time. In the evening she sat and we tried to talk a little.

Her English wasn’t as bad as it seemed, once she got past the shyness of speaking it with a foreigner. She said that she had graduated from high school but had not worked since. There were no jobs locally and the family didn’t have the money to send her to Manila or overseas for employment. She was a good girl. She respected her Uncle who raised her after her father died.

Shortly after I retired to my bed I heard the door open and saw a shadow slip into my room.

“No, Angelisa!” I said. “Go to sleep in your room. Please!”

The next morning I awoke to the sounds of a conversation at my gate. Even though I didn’t understand the Bisayan words, I could tell from the tone that it was an argument. Although it wasn’t actually loud, it did awaken me.

Slipping on my shorts, I went out to see. Angelisa was peering through the little trap-door in the gate. She struck a stubborn pose like a security guard. Nobody was going to come in, nobody was to have access to me, without her approval. I did not want to be protected like this!

“Angelisa, who is there?”

She glanced around, startled at my presence, then looked like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Oh! Sir! Just some girl who wants to be your helper,” she answered.

From outside I heard a pleasant voice, in reasonable English, refute that. “I certainly do not want to be anybody’s helper.”

“Let her come in, Angelisa. Let’s find out what this is about.”

Through my gate walked a truly beautiful young woman! The brazenness she had shown while arguing with Angelisa was now replaced by shyness. I said hello. She briefly touched my hand in greeting, all the time admiring her toes.

“I am Chuchi. Uncle says that you need to make friends, and learn Bisayan. I will be the one to be your guide and tutor.”

We went inside to discuss my lack of desire for a guide and tutor. She was a charming person. Her English was very good. I enjoyed talking with her. Her desired wage was quite reasonable: she wanted nothing except a place to sleep and her meals. She just would not understand that there was no job available.

That afternoon she brought her things, and was settled in my other spare bedroom. If I wound up hiring any more help, I would have to build a nipa hut in the yard to live in.

There was a marked change in Angelisa. She became still more demure and shy, but even more helpful. She deferred to Chuchi, who happened also to be a distant cousin. For her part, Chuchi always treated Angelisa with respect, although she maintained a certain detachment.

I didn’t do very well with learning Bisayan. I did meet quite a few more local people with Chuchi as my guide and translator. I enjoyed her company. Soon she was a friend.

One night as I was going to bed, my door opened. Chuchi entered, shyly looking at her toes.

“Chuchi, what are you doing here?”

“Uncle says that you are lonely. I will be the one to be your girlfriend.” She smiled shyly. “I will make you happy, and not alone anymore.”

“But I don’t want a girlfriend, Chuchi,” I said. “And if I did, I would choose her myself.”

“Okay! You choose me then!”

She was in my arms. I suddenly realized that I had been lonely. She moved her things into my room the next morning.

Chuchi pleased me in every way. I was wildly happy, ecstatic! A beautiful young woman wanted to be with me!

Angelisa became completely self-effacing. As she went about her tasks with quiet efficiency you hardly knew she was there. From time to time a shy smile might have shown, but I could never be sure.

The next couple of weeks are a blur. How did we ever begin talking about marriage? I felt myself being moved along by events. Since I had come here everything had been taken care of for me, but I thought I had made all the choices myself.

“Jason,” Chuchi said one morning, “I have to go visit my grandmother to help me plan the wedding.”

“Okay, honey-ko.”

“I will try to come home tonight, but you know the mountain is far and the jeepney takes so long.”

“Aw! I miss you already!”

That night Chuchi had not returned when I went to bed after drowning my loneliness in a few San Miguels.

I had a nightmare. Chuchi came home late, crawled into bed, and began to play.

“I will make you happier!”

Then she began to change into Angelisa, because in the dream Chuchi was standing in the door of our room shouting. I don’t know where the bolo came from. Now screaming. Soon there was blood everywhere.

Then I woke up. Covered in blood. Angelisa lay on the floor. Covered in blood. I heard the gate slamming shut.

First the barangay tanod showed up. Then Uncle. My friend. Neighbors. Then the Philippine National Police. I told the story so many times that night. Everyone seemed so understanding. Both my friend and Uncle helped with the authorities.

Chuchi was nowhere to be found. It was thought that she had run to the mountain. Angelisa’s body was taken away.

At last I was able to get cleaned up. I finally got back to sleep, with the help of some Tanduay.

The next day, a bit bleary-eyed, I awakened to a tapping on the gate. There stood an adorable young lady looking shyly down at her toes.

“Good morning, Sir! I am Cristina. Uncle says I will be the one to take care of you now!”