ODE TO JAN-JAN

I was once six years old. Just like Jan-Jan.

Actually, when I was five years old, I had my first taste of humiliation. It was summer. My family went to Pangasinan for an outing in the beach. My mom had forgotten to pack my swim suit. She urged me to 'parade' in my birthday suit. I wanted to protest. My cousins all were clad in their swim wear.

But, lest I get stranded alone in the shed (the beach was a few meters down -- we were in Hundred Islands, after all) I went walking sans briefs -- people were laughing. Jeering. Maliciously. I cupped my genitals. I knew they were laughing at my nakedness. The more they laughed. My drunk father egged me on. He told me to be proud of my 'boyhood'!

There is a photo of this experience somewhere in the old house. 

My parents were good people. But they were not good parents. 

Children are smarter than you think. They know. You can't lie to them. They know.

They're sensitive. They know.

They know when they're being laughed at.