The green

I was born in an island in South east asia where mango plants grow as grass in a park. Guava trees behind our house where I use to sit and have my quality time for myself. Coconut trees reach the sky. Different kind of bananas: the ones that you have to cook before eating, long and green bananas that took me forever to finish eating, petite and sweet ones and of course the Chiquitas. I loved when it was rainy season. Listening to the radio about love stories while it was raining was my favorite moment. Then came the thunder. I did not like the thunder. It scared me. It sounded like heaven was angry with me. An older woman said that when the thunder comes I needed to cover the mirrors in the house because they welcome the thunder in. And we had a lot of mirrors. One musical instrument that was a must in every houses was the guitar. Either you play the guitar or you sing. I did not play it so I sung. I thought I sung good until I attended a song contest and ended last. Today with both ears operated it got even worse that I can not even listen to myself singing under the shower. The mentality in my island about animals was not to befriended with. Animals were animals. We had monkeys that used to clean my hair from lice, water buffalos that took their time whatever they were doing, snakes came out from the sacks, chicken underneath our house, pigs that ate our left overs, cats that got pregnant everyday and dogs without name was the reason of the feast with music and laughter. My island is mixed culture from Buddhism to Muslim. Sundays during my first 12 years in this life was in the church. Mornings in my mothers church that was protestant and afternoons to evening in my fathers church that was Catholic. I attended their Sunday schools and read the bible twice. I was there physically but never really in present. I took it for granted. It was an obligatory. I had no choice. I did not learn anything.