It’s summer in the global south (which is winter in the global north), and for the month of January Literatur.Review is bringing them all together, publishing previously untranslated or unpublished stories from the north and south of our world.

Bebang Siy is a Filipino writer and translator. Her well-received book, It's a Mens World, is a collection of “humorous yet poignant” personal essays about coming-of-age right in the very heart of the red-light district in Ermita, Manila. It marked her contribution to Philippine women writing. She has authored eleven books.

Whenever my parents finished fighting, my dad would bring me to Rosie's Diner. It's an American restaurant that was then located at the corner of Salas and M.H. Del Pilar in Ermita.

It's now called L.A. Cafe.

Rosie's was the place to be. When Ermita was still a red-light district, you'd find Americans here and all manner of men with golden whiskers.

Rosie's Diner was brightly lit. It had white walls and had spacious interiors - a place for really tall people. Whenever we go there, and most of the time it was during the afternoons, there weren't a lot of people. Rosie's only became wider in my eyes.

But even if there were only a few patrons, it was still a noisy place. The customers told stories loudly and the forks and spoons clank as if the customers weren't noisy enough.

Most of the time, after my father chooses seats for us, he'd immediately ask me to order food.

I was eleven years old when we first ate there. The Pinay waitress with the high bangs (wearing a tis) gave us a menu each. Daddy ordered immediately. He was an impatient person. I forgot what he ordered then but I'm sure it was something with french fries. Isn't that how American food is? There are always french fries?

I went through each word in the menu. Menus didn't have pictures then. When I came upon the milkshake section, I heaved five breaths. My daddy thought that's what I wanted, so he ordered one for me. After ordering, he asked: “You do want a milkshake, right?”

Being the good daughter that I ant, I simply nodded.

He then asked, “What flavor?”

“Strawberry,” I replied.

Rosie's Diner was like fast food. The waitresses brought the food and drink front a door that looked like a door in a ship. It was all white too and had a hole on its upper part. Like the door's eye. That was what people inside use to look outside and the people outside to look in.

I didn't expect the milkshake to be so tall when it arrived on our table. When I placed my chin on the tabletop, the strawberry shake was taller than my face. It was really, really big.

I went at the gargantuan drink bit by bit throughout the afternoon. Daddy just told story upon story.

He said the reason why they fought was that Mami was only after money all the time. She kept asking for money. Manii thinks he has a well of money in his innards. She thinks he'd squat and money will come out of his butthole. He said my mother was the number one spender.
Where does she take all the money he gives her, he asked me. They only have four children, after all. The house was free and so was the usage of water and electricity. Weren't those big savings, ant I right? Daddy asked me. Why was Mami still spending so much?

My reply? Nothing.

True. I didn't have anything to say about what my dad's been talking about. I was very young then. What was money to me during those times? P4.00 to buy a tetra pack of Hi-C juice. How did I know that money could spell the end of a husband and wife relationship?

My dad thought I could understand what he was talking about because I kept nodding my head while my lips were pursed on the milkshake straw. The weird thing was, whenever he says “your mother,” I'd suck on the straw. Maybe it's because he was describing my mother in a way that made my heart sink - about the woman who just happens to spend almost 24 hours of every day with my sisters and me. The milkshake was quickly filling up my stomach.

When we got home, I felt like a bloated kangaroo. And if someone poke me then with their index finger, I'd be spraying strawberry milkshake front my mouth, ears, and nose.

A genius said that men are insensitive. And I think that genius was on my side. My dad kept on repeating the same scene all throughout my young life.

We went to Rosie's almost every week. And whenever we ended up there, he'd order a milkshake for me. Vanilla. Sometimes, chocolate.

And again, he'd be chewing what he ordered while I sipped and sipped the milkshake the entire afternoon.

“Your mother’s a dimwit!” Sip.

“Your mother keeps taking the side of your grandmother.” Sip.

“Anyway, both of them love money.” Sip.

“They're leeching off me.”

“Your grandmother’s mooching off me and...”

At one point, I got ahead of my father.

Sip.... “...your mother.”

Well, he had gotten repetitive.

At Rosie's Diner, he'd tell me all sorts of stuff. Did I know that my grandmother married her cousin? How could that be? Cousins getting married? Just look at your grandfather and grandmother’s noses, both of them are long and have very rounded tips at the end. They look alike because they're of the same blood. Sinful. It's forbidden for relatives to marry each other.
That's why their children including Mami are sinful. Immoral. Bad.

Many months would pass, and it was more of the same talking and sipping.

Finally, Mami and Daddy separated. Our sisters were split like meat buns. For take-out. The two meat, I mean two sisters, my mother took them to Parañaque. They met my stepfather there. Colay and I stayed with dad in Ermita.

After that, we rarely went to Rosie's Diner. But whenever we get the chance, my father doesn't forget to order me a milkshake.

“See, your mother quickly got a man.”

“She's not content. Your mother's such a flirt.”

My mother's new man’s name was this. Blah blah blah. My mother’s a seductress that's why she likes to make her hair long. Men get seduced faster by women with long hair. My dad told me not to follow my mother’s example.

“Your mother’s example.” Sip.

After a few years, my dad suddenly had a heart attack. He spent two weeks in the Intensive Care Unit. He died soon after. Our relatives sent us to our mother, but Colay didn't want to be with her. Isn't she a bad mother? Isn't she a bad woman? Almost like a little harlot, my Dad said. Isn't she?

But we had no choice since no one would take care of us except Manii. We were forced to go home to her. Those days, Mami and my stepfather's livelihood went bankrupt. She sent us to study in public school. She'd bring us to school every day. When we get home, she'd ask us to take care of our younger sisters. She's working she'd say. What did Colay and I know about that kind of life?

After a few years, she asked me to help her. She said we'll sell okra in the wet market. Just do homework some other time. Forget friendship and strolling around.

The sound of sucking the milkshake straw suddenly returned.

Suckk. Suckkkk.

“You're mother’s a dimwit.” Suck.

“She's only after money.” Ucckkk.

“She thinks of money first.” Succcckkk.

“That's your mother.” Suck. “Worthless.” Suck. “Evil.” Suck.

Why do I need to follow this woman? She's worthless anyway. A worthless wife and I, therefore, conclude, a worthless mother.

I need to get away front her. I don't want to be like her. Daddy will be angry if that happens. Wow, all those milkshakes would have been for nothing.

That's when I met the boy I thought would save me from Mami, my first boyfriend. I clung to him while having no idea what fruit that would bear. I did it with closed eyes, not seeing that my mother’s eyes were sore for crying at what I'm doing with my life.

I was seventeen when we eloped and stopped studying. Eighteen when I got pregnant.
Nineteen when I gave birth. And a year had not yet passed when my baby's dad and I split.

I carried my baby when I visited my dad's grave.

After offering my prayer, I whispered to the wind that wafted here and there what I had wanted to say for so long.

“Dad, for the milkshakes, thanks but no thanks.”

This text is one of 20 stories from Bebang Siy's literary debut, the memoir It's a Mens World.