　　　Takano-san was my first customer in that evening. And it was the very day I began working at the Karaoke Saloon Sakura again after giving birth to my second daughter -Yuki- in my hometown in Bulacan Province about one year earlier.

　　　Still being unable to forget the surreal beauty of falling snow I had seen in Japan for the fist time in my life a few years earlier, I chose Yuki (snow) for the daughter’s name.

　　　'What a beautiful name! To my great pleasure, Lisa praised the name cordially. ‘And that’s a name very much becoming to her!'

　　　Indeed, Yuki’s skin color was fairer than anybody in my family, including myself whose color was already fair for a Filipino due to the blood mixture with Spaniards, which had occurred to my family’s ancestors during old Spanish occupation era.

　　　Akira’s attitude was very different from Lisa’s. He did not show any affection to his own daughter’s name. At the other end of international telephone line, all he mumbled to me was, ‘Yuki, ..oh, yeah?' when he was told what name I had given to our baby.

　　　　　　　　　　-----

　　　Mama Lisa was about to finish her second song ‘Koibitoyo'.

　　　Takano-san gave her a big hand.

　　　Having made a very deep bow toward customer tables, like Japanese professional singers, Lisa directly headed to the one end of the bar counter. Apparently, she was going to go through her notebook there to check out how her girls were working and who should attend the next possible customers.

　　　"Tsugiwa Hiro-san, onegai shimasu (Hiro-san is next. Please, get ready)!" Standing by the stage, manager Manuel shouted into his microphone.

　　　A Hiro-san jumped to his feet just in front of the stage. His friends and momentarily happy-go-lucky girls serving at his table enthusiastically cheered him up. A young hostess followed him to the stage: A tall, slender girl whose age looked to be only sixteen, or seventeen at the most.

　　　Manuel had already put a music tape in the karaoke machine. Duet song ‘Izakaya' was coming out of the loudspeakers. 　　　Hiro-san sang the song unexpectedly well for his play-the-fool attitude.

　　　The young hostess-singer, on the other hand, had not yet mastered the song. She went out of tempo many times and showed an embarrassed, sheepish smile each time.

　　　Waving his hand to encourage her to catch up with him, Hiro-san kept singing in a very good humor.

　　　"Melba, ganbatte (don’t give up)!" Out of the blue, Takano-san yelled loud.

　　　Melba returned a big smile to him. ..Combined with a tint of vulnerability of her juvenility, Melba’s eyes were twinkling with astonishingly lovely sparkles. ..Even though, I presumed, someone might dispute that her face could not be described as very beautiful.

　　　　　　　　　　-----

　　　Takano-san’s cheer made me realize for the first time that he knew those girls working at Sakura a lot more than I did. I was merely a clumsy hostess who had just returned to her job, still struggling to regain her old tricks to entertain her customers. I could not help but think, ‘Takano-san must’ve been enjoying his evening here much more if he had been with the girls whom he had known very well. ..Like Melba, for instance.'

　　　　　　　　　　-----

　　　At that moment, there were twenty-four girls working in Sakura.

　　　The saloon was said to be one of the larger karaoke saloons in Ermita district, which, by the way, had always been introduced to the world as the largest night-time pleasure zone in Southeast Asia, if the word ‘sexual' was removed from it, due to the complete lack of proper policy by the Marcos dynasty on the Philippines' tourism and pleasure industry. However, being merely furnished with lounges covered with reddish brown cloth and lacquered black tables made of wood, and decorated with light pink wallpaper and plain lighting equipment, the interior of the saloon was much humbler and simpler, beyond comparison, than the ones of those two omise (saloons, bars, pubs or clubs) I had worked for in Japan.

　　　And there were five groups of customers, thirteen in all, large enough number of customers almost all girls could tend upon.

　　　‘Good for you, girls!' I thought. ‘It may be going to be a very good evening for us all.'

　　　　　　　　　　-----

　　　From the bill their customers paid out, for each cocktail-glass-full of soft drink they were permitted to consume, the girls working at the saloon were supposed to be paid back ten pesos -one hundred and twenty Japanese yen or forty US cents at the black market exchange rate on Manila streets. And unless those customers offered more or refused to offer at all, the soft drinks were customarily to be brought to their tables every thirty to sixty minutes. Therefore, those girls who served customers who enjoyed their evening in the saloon for two hours, for example, could earn twenty to forty pesos. Except mama, for the girls whose base wages for an evening’s work were only twenty pesos, it was a matter of life or death whether they would have chances to serve customer or not, that is, whether good enough number of customers would come to the saloon so that they could have such chances, to begin with, as well as whether or not their customers would like them and stay longer there.

　　　Well, as a matter of fact, there still were evenings throughout which the girls could serve their customers from the saloon’s opening -seven o’clock in the evening- to its closing -three o’clock in the next morning. In such lucky evenings, the girls could earn as much as two hundred pesos an evening from their soft drinks. It was rare, however, for them to enjoy such windfalls under the circumstances the number of Japanese tourists coming to Manila had been decreasing.

　　　Once in a while, it was also true, there were customers who were willing to give the girls big tips, even fifty pesos for each girl tending upon them. Big one hundred pesos sometimes. Nevertheless, the girls rarely would ask their customers for tips. One of the reasons was simply that, fearing of customers' distaste, the saloon just prohibited the girls from doing so. And another was that the girls tended to believe that tip was a mere extra income and would or would not be given to them just depending on how lucky they were.

　　　Although I had no means to know exactly how much each of those girls was earning a month on the average, I used to guess that it had to be around fifteen hundred pesos.

　　　　　　　　　　-----

　　　Several cigarette butts were already in an ashtray on the table. I waved my hand to a waiter, Raymond, to let him know it was time for him to replace the dirty ashtray with a clean one. Having nodded deeply, he immediately started stepping toward our table.

　　　“From my own experience, Trina, I think, Filipinos in general..," Takano-san was still hanging on to the same topic, “tend to pay good attention to someone else’s ability in speaking English, don’t they? Well, apparently, to their own abilities, too."

　　　Offering an amiable smile to us, Raymond replaced the ashtray and left the table, uttering no word.

　　　“Is that because, Trina," Takano-san went on, “not all people can speak English as expected? I mean, although English is ruled to be an official language of this country, along with Tagalog? Is it shameful for all the people to be unable to speak English fluently?"

　　　　　　　　　　-----

　　　To be honest, I had already started getting fond of Takano-san’s not-so-self-centered way of speaking. I had begun believing that such modesty of his might be the some good indication of his intelligence.

　　　And, all of a sudden, it was my turn to smile a bitter, distorted wry smile, only imaginarily though: For I was so embarrassed realizing that I still possessed a tendency to judge a man’s value by his brightness just as I had done when I had finally accepted Akira’s courtship.

　　　As if making fun of such myself, I responded to Takano-san. "Atama iina, Takano-san wa (You’re so smart, Takano-san)."

　　　I had not expected at all he might show that wry smile of his once again shaking his head.

　　　My bewilderment had grown even more. However, I continued what I was about to say, anyway. “That’s true, Takano-san. We may feel ashamed, as you’ve noticed, if we can’t speak English very well. But that’s not because English is one of our official languages. ..Can you guess why?"

　　　　　　　　　　-----

　　　I hesitated for a moment, for I did not know why I was challenging Takano-san in such a manner.

　　　"I’d like to know why, Trina." He demanded.

　　　"Kasi (because)... In the Philippines, education is one of the things that are very expensive, especially, in comparison with average income of all the families. Yes, our English education may start in intermediate schools. However, our reality is that almost half of children in this nation can’t advance to secondary schools. So, naturally, they don’t have chances to become fluent English speakers. Do they? ..If there are persons near you, who speak English so well, you will suppose..."

　　　Takano-san was giving me his very serious ear. ..Too serious, perhaps.

　　　I went on. “Hearing such a good English, people will assume, ‘Ah, well, that guy must have college education, at least,' that means, ‘That guy’s family is rich enough to have sent him or her to a college.' You already get it, don’t you, Takano-san? Your being fluent in English makes people know how rich your family is, instead of how hard you’ve studied it. It’s that simple. As you said, Takano-san, we may feel ashamed if we can’t speak that language well enough. But it’s not because English is one of our official languages. It’s because your poor English reveals to all in no time that you were not given good education, that is, that your family didn’t have enough money to send you to a college, instead. That’s the only reason we feel ashamed. We can live even if we don’t speak English. If you don’t have money, on the other hand, ..sore hazukashii desho (it’s shameful, isn’t it)?"

　　　　　　　　　　-----

　　　I was not sure how truthfully I was presenting such an opinion to him. All I had come to realize by then, instead, was that I still seemed to harbor regret somewhere in my mind that I had failed to complete my own college education after all.So I added in haste. “But that’s merely my personal opinion, Takano-san. There should be other opinions among other people."

　　　Takano-san nodded slowly toward me.

　　　To be very absurd, I had not even wondered by that moment how my English had been sounding to him, which had strong Tagalog accent and was way far from being very fluent.