Papa, Papito

I enjoyed the times when I used to hang out with my eldest boy and his friends when we were clubbing past midnight and to the karaoke bars singing till the sun rises in the morning. Those were the times that I really enjoyed the most and his friends thought we were brothers, which I enjoyed the fact that it makes me feel young. I dread the day when someone would offer me a seat in a crowded bus or train as how young ones have been brought up or public service campaigns on television to remind the young ones to offer their seats to senior citizens. I freaked out the first time when someone called me an Uncle, an Asian way of addressing an elderly person in Asian politeness. It was when the bells started to ring in my ears alerting me that I have past my youth.

Friends told me that when they moved to Hong Kong they had to get used to every Tom, Dick and Harry or Juliet, Jane and Mary calling them Uncle. It is a matter of respect although some of them were not very much younger. In other countries around South America or in Ecuador, I would be addressed as papa or usually papito. Don't we wish that we can still remain young and still be admired? Age is just a number but don’t we love being admired.

My eldest boy offer to stand while I take the seat