Miss Guimba-Public Market was born while I was tucking in my one-year-old. My mind was overloaded with endless ideas for my blogs and I had a Eureka moment with this name. It just sounded right. This term was coined by my good friend June Dizon, back when I was still an instructor in CLSU. He used to call the Tres Marias of the English Department (Joybeth, Abyh and yours truly), Miss San Jose, Miss Munoz, and Miss Guimba respectively. While this would have been a compliment of sorts, he would douse it with the addition of "public market" at the end of the title. It drew out a lot of laughs from us and the name stuck.
I came from a long line of "beauty queens." My aunt Bing won Miss Bayombong and my mother won a beauty title when she was in her 50s. My older sister followed in their footsteps. With our stage mother in tow, she would join beauty pageants as far as Cagayan. I was crowned "Miss United Nations" in high school. Sadly, all our hopes to become the next Miss Universe were dashed to pieces when we wouldn't grow more than 5 feet. I fault my mother and father who were diminutive. There's no beating the "height" genes.
I was a certified "kikay." My greatest dream in elementary school was to be a majorette in our drum and bugle band. Sadly, my height got in the way again and I lost that place to a taller classmate, Haidee, a very good friend. I had to content myself with a side majorette position. I used to dress and put on make-up and practice my "beauty pageant walk" and talent portion. I tasted the highs of victory and the bitterness of loss in beauty pageants. Most of all, it bred in me a competitive spirit. I had to be number one or die trying!
Then UP happened. This is a place where brains reign and beauty scoffed. To my horror, beauty pageants were laughed at. The only beauty pageants in UP were the ones held in dormitories where real men dress up as women. So I hid my beauty queen titles and participated in sneering at beauty pageants and how "degrading" they were to women. I vowed never to let my daughters join in any activity that treats them as "objects."
Now, I'm living in this unknown place called Guimba, a mom to two future beauty queens. I've compensated for my lack of height by marrying a six-footer. I hope my daughters surpass my 5'2" height (Okay, okay, 5'1") and inherit my nose.
This is my blog. It's a home for my random thoughts about anything and everything under the sun. But it's also a chronicle of blooming where I'm planted, of learning how to be grateful for what I have, and of bringing beauty in this dusty place.
