Day IC

Spanish in Manila

     There are over 72 dialects in the islands, and a very small community in Manila that still speaks Spanish. What were the odds that I would ever run into one of them. I told him I was Puerto Rican, and from New York City. He complemented my Spanish, which really flattered me, because I’ve never believed that I spoke it well at all. But apparently it was good enough for us to have a conversation.

     l introduced him to Kunt, and told him we were airmen from Clark AB. But, unlike my little misadventure in Mexico, I was honest, and told him we were neither pilots nor officers. He smiled, and in perfect English he introduced himself.

     “My name is Martin, my family owns the sugar cane plantation outside of your airbase.”

     We looked at each other, smiled, and nodded. Then he says,

     “So tomorrow is New Years Eve, what are you guys doing?”

     “Oh, we’re here on a three day pass, and don’t have any plans.” Kunt responded.

       “Good!” Martin said, and continued, “My family is having a small New Year’s Eve party, and I would be honored if you would be my guest.”

     We were dumfounded to say the least.

     “Please join us!” He nodded his head, as he pleaded for us to join his table.

    Kunt and I looked at each other, smiled, and brought our stuff over to his table. He was sitting there, with a pal, and his cousin, who was a stewardess for PAL, Pilippino Air Lines. She was the loveliest girl I had met during my tour. She was smart, and she could dance. We drank, danced, talked politics, Viet Nam, and the lost Spanish empires. She kept asking me to dance, and who was I to refuse. To them it was ballroom dancing, but to me, man…it’s my culture- we danced through the night.