The Marrying Kind.
Because of our extremely conservative culture, the only way a Maranao girl could ever be in a "proper" relationship is if the family bullied her into one. By relationship, they mean marriage that very same month. It's tough.
When I went to Lanao for the first time to live the Maranao way for a couple months, it was not unusual to get a random phone call from any one of my gazillion girl cousins, crying because she was being forced to meet and like a Maranao guy from a family of her relatives' choosing. It was not unusual to respond in the default spiel: "It's alright, he's from a good family, it will be good for politics, and you will have a good life with him."
How very 16th century.
True, now that the Maranao has evolved, now that they are more educated, more exposed to other cultures, more "open-minded", things have changed. But only very slightly.
It's funniest when relatives are being sly about it.
"Wata (child), come with us to so-and-so's dinner party, so you can meet your cousins. It's not good for an educated girl from a good family like yourself to be so ignorant of her family and heritage."
Next thing you know, there's a Maranao guy they all decided would be the perfect match for you, right there at the dinner party, who most probably went through the same thing.
In my case, it was usually some random guy, sure, a cousin, but 500 times removed, who was born and raised abroad (like myself), speaks all the languages I do, and from a "good, political" family.
Ever since I became aware of what my aunts were doing, I've always had the same reaction to this. I would rebel. I would do everything they didn't expect or want me to do. I once went up to a guy and asked him out on a date, see if things would work out. (This was, if Maranaos could have their way, punishable by death.) A nice Maranao girl is supposed to be shy, quiet, reserved.
Sure.
Another time, I went out for coffee with another guy, a lawyer, and after giving him the impression that I was interested and that nobody knew of our little rendesvouz, I called my father overseas and had him talk to the guy. Scared the shit out of him.
Of course with this behaviour, the meddling relatives found it harder and harder to set me up with anyone. It did not stop them from doing so, however. They only worked harder.
And yes, I was rebellious, and at times, I had the time of my life being outrageous and shocking them all, but when I went home at night, I would cry myself to sleep, because I felt like cheap, cheap China, being peddled off second-hand.
I know so many other Maranao girls who went through the same thing, if they didn't ALL go through it.
Things only changed around the time I turned 20. Something in my head clicked, and I just thought to myself, "you know what, screw it. Britney Spears had to deal with this crap, I'm sure. What Would Britney Do?" It sounds funny now. It made perfect sense to me then. Celebrity. There will always be people selling you. It's up to you if you want to sell yourself short, to allow to be bought.
It's strange for me hearing the same predicament happen to someone non-Maranao. I always thought it was exclusive, this drama. When a friend confided in me about her problem, how stressed out she was over something that I had gone through before, I didn't know if I should tell her about my experience. Would she see the similarity?
Eventually, I did. She was quiet. I still don't know what she thinks. Probably because I finished my story with the exact same Britney-Spears-pep-talk I gave myself ages ago. I only hope she doesn't waste her time stressing over things that are not worth her time.
Maranao culture still confuses me. I am loyal to it. I am very Maranao in so many ways. But I haven't got it all figured out just yet.
My relatives still call me every now and then. "Wata, you're not getting any younger. What are you doing with your life? There is a dinner party next Friday..."
Sometimes, I give the easiest excuse I have. I'm too busy with work.
Most of the time, though, I give them a little something to gossip about.
"No, thanks, auntie. I'm not the marrying kind. I'm saving myself for a foreigner."
Also, if they could have their way, "punishable by death".
***
Remember how I'm trying to sleep? It's not working. I need to be more disciplined. Yesterday, I slept at around 3.30 am.
I'm chatting with my brother #6 P.
(published with permission)
P:
salaam
still up?
D:
yo
i'm about to sleep
wsup
P:
oh i'm about to start my day
D:
p, click this website. i'm building a city. i need people to click the link
P:
city?
D:
yeah man it's a stupid game. click it
P:
aww
since when did u start playing stupid games
D:
haha i always played stupid games, mate
P:
ye like degs?
And so on. We discussed a little bit how much I'm whoring this website. He wants to move out of the apartment he shares with brother # 5, Ad. Wants his own place. If I could give P everything he asked, I would. Sadly, he has a mother to answer to. I tell him to call Mom.
Yeah, I'm that older sister who allows them to smoke, drink, move out, and gives them the cash to do so. In the words of G. Barkley, "does that make me crazy?"
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