Mom, there is a snake! by 날개단약속

One day, somebody told me,

On Oprah Winfrey’s show, she covered a topic about Filipino helpers … I did not know whether that was true because I do not watch it. However, if I were to talk about the culture of a helper - which is a unique part of the culture of the Philippines - it would take days, such that I could write a whole book about it. (Actually, there are books written about the life of helpers, so I have to be careful).

Why am I bringing up this story?

It is because to me - a married Korean woman living in the Philippines - they are definitely essential, indispensable beings whom I thank for taking off the burden of the housewife at a price that is incomparably cheaper than the price in Korea … also, it is because their story suddenly came to mind when I was about to write a story about this place.

There was a yaya - which means ‘nanny’ in Bisayan - who had been together with us at our house for almost two years. I felt sad when she was no longer able to work due to personal reasons associated with us moving to a new house.

Her name is Joyce. Joyce’s house was in a poor village that was a ten minute walk from my village. She said that her house was located on a street named ‘Gotong’ (means ‘hungry’ in Bisayan).

“Even the street’s name is ‘suffering’ (‘Gotong’ sounds like the word ‘suffering’ in Korean),” she said and innocently laughed out loud.

One of the Filipino faces that has impressed upon me deeply is the “bright and untainted face.” Even though they are living in an environment that would be unimaginable for a present-day Korean, their facial expressions are just bright and pure.

One day, Joyce said,

“Mom, Alice! There was a snake at my house yesterday. It was as thick as a person’s arm and lo~ng and black! It shone even in the dark night and disappeared quietly, lifting its head into my gate!” She explained excitedly, as if she were commentating a live event.

‘What? How did it get into the house?’

I did not even want to imagine.

Whenever I go out, the poor village in the Philippines is clearly noticeable when I look through the window of my taxi. Houses that are small and roughly made with unclean bamboo … shantytowns …

Because Joyce’s house is right next to an unclean stream, snakes sometimes appear from the humid, densely-wooded area nearby. Joyce said that, in the past, one time, Joyce’s father caught a really thick snake that was actually longer than a person’s height and killed it. She said that it was green. Her family peeled off its skin, made oil out of it, grilled it on charcoal fire and ate it. The oil was very bitter, but she used to give kids one drop of it with candy or chocolate when they were sick. Ew~!

They have been through all kinds of extreme dangers, but Joyce’s family is happy and harmonious. Joyce is the first born, and she has three younger sisters and one younger brother.

When I see them, the issue of the poverty in this place, which I cannot bear to face, is squeezed into my brain and it enters into me, like that gross black snake that was standing, lifting its head cunningly in front of the door to that girl’s house ...

And on the other hand, how is luxurious my life compared to theirs? Even though my life is not that ‘luxurious,’ my family has ‘enough’ financially; I do not know how many times I have repeated ‘Lord, thank you’ in my heart …

It may not be right to be thankful for my life just by sympathetically comparing it with the lives of these people as I look at them. However, when I see from a different point of view, there are times when we jump into unhappiness and tire ourselves out because we become dull to being thankful for what we have; whenever that happens, the Lord makes me look again and think that in my life I only have things for which I can be grateful. Therefore, even that, is not that also something for which I need to be grateful?

Written by Alice