literature

Hetalia Piri - My Name is...

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Ramblings of Piri - My Name is...

"My name is...right. I know my name...it's Maria Clara...Carriedo...de la Cruz. The Republic of the Philippines. Right? That is my name. No, wait. It isn't?" the young girl mumbled to herself as she watched the rain pour outside her home. It was one of those days...when rain and darkness would mix in and be the perfect atmosphere for a gloomy night. Just like what she was facing at the moment.

Over the past few years, she had been constantly trying to collect the pieces of her lost past. Looking for old clues, joining trips to untouched regions of her home, rereading history textbooks from her land and others. She was tired, but she had to find out more about it. Her researchers did tell her to rest and concentrate on her other duties. Fortunately, she is still able to keep up with her schedule and time.

But there was something else. She wasn't just looking for her past, she was trying to return what she had lost. All of those memories, all of those times she had spent with them. She wanted to know so badly.

She was trying to find out more about her own self and her relations with those she had forgotten. To her, there were only blurry images of the times with her family, Brunei, or even with Indonesia and Malaysia. It was bad enough they seem to see each other more because of land disputes...but at least for the present, they had started to get along.

But it wasn't enough. She had to search more. She didn't want to see those...sad faces again.

"sigh. Maybe too much paperwork and field work had been getting to my head. I should just go to bed early tonight..." she turned her television off about the news of a new typhoon that had just entered her areas. What else was new? She asked herself and started her nightly rituals.

Why did that thought pass her? Why would she start doubting her name? She had held that name for a long time...a very long time. Well, she did find about her "supposed" old names. Mai..Tawalisi...they did sound familiar. Very familiar. She couldn't point out how. And when she was asked how she felt about it, she could only say...they sounded familiar but she couldn't tell how and why. That was that. It could be a start to finding out her real self. Her name...

But what is in a name? She gave a soft chuckle as she brushed her teeth. It reminded her of that bittersweet romance England made her read once. She wasn't much of a reader, but if romance was involved in it, she was all go. How did the lines go again?

What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name;
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.


How sweet, Juliet doesn't care what names people have. As long as people loved each other, that is what is important. Because a name is just a name. It's a calling. A way of distinguishing you from the other. But then again, what is with her name then?

The archipelago nation slumped on the bed as she continued listening to the rain fall across her roof. "It'll be an all-nighter for the rain. I hope it lets up tomorrow.."

"What is with my name? Maria Clara Carriedo de la Cruz...yes. That must be it. It sounds more Spanish than Filipino. But what is Filipino then? What is the Philippines? That is my name, until now.

The Philippine Archipelago, the Republic of the Philippines...Philippines.

Philip. King Philip II.

Yes, I remember. Papa, or Bossing if I should call him correctly, told me that when he baptized me. He named me after him. His own Boss. Back then, I thought it was a huge special thing. A wonderful gift I should take...a blessing from him meant a lot to me...because I knew he cared for me. That's why I took it. But now...

All I can think of is that I was named after a deceased King of a foreign land. His land, to be exact.

And why did I call him Papa? Oh yes, he did ask me to do that. But, he told me to call him Boss after several months. Why? He liked it when I called him Papa and he would call me mi hija. He smiled and always gave me hugs and twirled me around until all I could see were stars and swirls. He loved it when I called him that...why did it change? I know I asked him that when he told me to change it. Was that a bitter smile? His only explanation was that it was a formal way of calling him. That I should call him that when others are around...

But...now that I've grown though...could it mean...could it mean that he didn't want me to be his daughter anymore? No more mi hija and mi chica? Was I...just like my other brothers and sisters? Was I...only just a colony after all? Was he embarrassed? Was he embarrassed to be called that way by his colony?"

She gulped sadly. Here it goes again, she was going through these moments again...moments where she just wanted to scream but all she could do was muffle her voice with her pillow.

"...I guess that makes me not that much special to him after all. I was a far-away land he wanted to have. He may not have attained the spices he searched, but he was able to attain a land with gold and resources...

I am just like his other colonies. I shouldn't think I was that much special to him. I was another one of his colonies. He could have all the rest of what he wanted from the other nations under him back then. That's it.

Then...Could he have just wanted to call me mi hija so he could have gotten closer to me? To gain my trust and attention? And when he had me...is that why he changed it to Boss so he could show his superiority to me? Is that...what it was?

.....I...I don't know what I should think about it. Papa is still Papa...but...when Kuya Mexico started to fight back, he urged me to fight too. I remembered not wanting to. Because...he was Papa...he was not my Boss. Heck, I even tried defending him...but I knew I was thinking differently. And thus I still stayed under him...that was a bad decision...I should have seen that thoroughly!!

And in the end, it became worse. So I fought and I fought. I found allies and enemies. I fought until I attained my independence. But wait...my name. Shouldn't I have changed my name once I attained my independence from him?

Then...why do I still keep his name with me? Carriedo...

Viva Madre Espana!

That was the old call. The old cheer for Mother Spain. I remembered shouting that out before. Even if he was Papa, he was happy when I said that. His language. His name. Him.

Even if he was long gone from my islands, his spirit still stayed with me...even presently...he lingers. My culture, my dress, my food, my ideas, my language!!

Even my first name. Maria Clara. de la Cruz too! That's not even Filipino! Sure, it is for the present time. But...that doesn't feel like my name at all. I'm not even the exact person in Rizal's works!"

She held back her tears. No, she mustn't cry. She mustn't. She had gone through this before...

Jose Rizal was one of her heroes. "He died a martyr...just for me. Just so he could help his "Inang Bayan" to rise again. Just so that I could stand up and destroy the cancer that had been plaguing me for the past 300 years!"

He died...not in vain. No, she could not accept that. Heroes died for a purpose, he died with dignity and morale. Spain may call him a traitor, but not to her. He died for her. And she will live out these days remembering him and his legacies he had left behind. It was all she could do, for not saving him.

Because...he, himself, was proud to say he was a Filipino.

And there it is again. Filipino. Not Indio. Filipino. At least a characteristic they could have back then.

"Rizal...you even called me Pilipinas. Like a Maria Clara...but no...that name. My name...is foreign. And now....tsk...

My name...they said it was Mai. They said it was Tawalisi. There are others...which is me? Were I all of them? Was I a thriving band of people? A prosperous nation? An independent and self-providing country? What? What was I?

Just....just with a name. W-What was my name...why I can't remember which is which? I wish I could remember it. I wish I could remember everything...I don't want to see them hurt again.."

She wiped off her tears and sighed again before hitting her head on the pillow.

"Come to think of it, even if I do change my name...what would I call myself? It would affect everything...everything that I am. The Filipinos would no longer be called Filipinos. The Philippines...what name would I give it?

My culture is even a mix of his and mine and even of the other Western and Eastern countries! I...I don't even..."

Deep breaths echoed through the room, matching with the pitter-patter of the raindrops on her roof. "Calm down...just calm down. My culture isn't dying. I believe I need to dig deeper...there has to be more remnants of the old me...there has to be. I refuse to believe I had lost it all. I will still look for them...no matter how long or how hard it will take."

Not feeling sleepy at all, she lied on her back and stared at the ceiling and just listened to the rain and the wind. Coming from outside, she could smell the faint scent of the her jasmine, Sampaguita. It did smell more lovely tonight though, as if it were trying to calm her down.

Strangely, it felt nostalgic. The rain and wind always felt like familiar presences to her. May they have caused her problems or not, both elements had become regular companions in her everyday life.

"Could my old self have liked the wind too? Could she have stared up at her ceiling, listening to the rain like I do now? What did she feel when the rain came or when the wind blew across her face? Rejoice? Fear? Freedom? So many questions, all unanswered."

She inhaled deeply before clutching her blankets and pulled them closer. She needed all the warmth she could get.

"So...I don't know my true name. I don't know what culture I held. Who else I was with...what else did I do on a regular basis? Who were my leaders? Who were the people? So many faces...and I only have so little clues. Fragments of that forgotten time. I hope...I wish...dear Lord, if you can still hear me. I pray I could remember. Even a little bit. Because this isn't just for me. It's for everyone else...that's been there...for.....me....."

She pressed the pillow closer to her and felt sleep finally come to her. She may have been unsure when she came to bed, even more unsure as the thoughts played with her head, but now. For now, she will rest. Her past may have been uncertain, but her present is what she would make to fix her future. It may have been bleak when she thought of her name. But there's no use crying over her lost past. She'll move forward with her present. She will fix her past, and with that, she may be able to move on to the future.
Rambling of Piri.

I...don't know how I did this or what happened. I'm the type of person who would write down sweet or loving stuff. But, let's say I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. More on my studies, but also on about Piri.
I guess, I wanted to give her a different outlook. All the while because my brain's fried up with Formal Reports.

Anyway, I've read articles about rethinking Piri's name. What could it be? Should we return to the old names? Or should we make a new one? I don't know...

Well. I can't recall from where I found it. I read one article where...you would say our Colonial Mentalism digs deep talaga. Because, even our name is foreign and we still keep it. So what should we do now? I'm not sure...just as how Piri is confused.

But there's not time to mope, the past is what makes the present move forward to the future. She may be looking for the past, but it is for her own good. I hope we can still learn more of what her true past is.

Back when I was elementary, I recalled my old history books about how the start of the Filipino race is with Negritos, Indones and Malay and that is how we started. But that is already disclosed and a new theory is put up. Now, we can see that we might have originated from Indonesia since we have some proofs of Indonesian and Indian relations.

Then we concentrated on the Colonial Part. I would say 2 Quarters of a Term were used up for that. Sure, we did talk about how we had Asian relations, but it would focus on China or Arabia. Not much on Indonesian or Malaysian. Heck, I only got to know we had that much relations (more than trade) with Brunei after High School!

Sigh...oh well. As I always say, History wasn't mean to be a Fairy Tale. But all we can do is see through it until the end. So...let's move on. Shall we? Ja ne~!

Tell me what you guys think. Thank you!
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kimsueng's avatar
One of the reasons why Spanish colonization succeeded is because Filipino people trust the Spanish Gov't and maybe that was a mistake in our part