Then as the Marcos dictatorship cracked down on young activiists, the rest of your childhood was spent wondering when you would see your siblings again. She pushed you out of the way but then herself was struck down by a jeepney.

Yours was a childhood that was first shattered by the death of your mother. I spent my childhood in a typical, middle class Filipino household with too many children and financial struggles. This was not an era of fight but of flight, when leaving the Philippines in search of a better life became the norm. I on the other hand was one of the oldest in a family that came of age in a time of apathy – when the activism had been driven underground and the Marcos dictatorship had already silenced the media, killed its enemies, and stolen the wealth of its people. You were the youngest of a family coming of age in a time of resistance – the 1970s – which began with what was called the First Quarter Storm – when students rose up in protest and the government of Ferdinand Marcos responded with a calculated brutality that drove young people underground, including many of your siblings.

Still in the midst of discovering my future self as a children’s book writer, I was instantly drawn to you and delighted to discover that we were distant cousins.īut though we shared a surname and relatives and both grew up in large families, our lives were a contrast.

Your job at Sesame Street was so cool: you travelled through the provinces, collecting folk stories. When we first met, I was a teenage intern at the Philippine Sesame Street Project, making props, clay models and looking after the head of Pong Pagong the giant turtle equivalent for Big Bird who had tofrequently take off his head because of the heat.

Tall Story by Candy Gourlay