Nanay Ate and Uncle Po - Say What!

Ben MacDuff - Homecoming

If you missed Chapter 1 then here it is

Chapter 2

As it was such a beautiful and calm warm day, Ben decided to stop and take a stroll along the infamous Loch Ness. Perhaps he might even be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Nessie the alleged Loch Ness Monster, although he had never seen the remotest possibility of a sighting, fake or otherwise of him. ‘Him’ now there’s a thought, in today’s age of gender equality he had even heard some women call Nessie a ‘She’, who was right? Ben pulled over at one of the numerous parking view laybys alongside the shores of Loch Ness, specifically set up for tourists to either go for walks or stop and take selfies. He nestled in between a German registered light blue BMW X5 M50d to the front, and a red French registered Renault KADJAR to the rear. Both were top of the range SUVs, how very nationalistic, I wonder how Brexit will affect our tourism thought Ben. The BMW had a gorgeous shade of light blue that reminded Ben of his beloved Glasgow Rangers sports team, the world’s most successful football team. He had not been to the home stadium Ibrox Park in Glasgow for many years, he really must try and catch a game if time permitted. Many things had changed during his time away, even his Rangers had gone into administration, how times had changed since Sir David Murray the then owner had handed Ben his academic degrees at his university graduation ceremony.

Clambering out of his British made Range Rover SUV, Ben then slowly scrambled down the rocky shoreline to the water’s edge. This part of the shore had no sand, only pebbles and rocks. Chuckling to himself, he thought about the BMW and Germans, he realized that there would be no need for him to wake at the crack of dawn with his towel, trying to beat the Germans and catch the sun lounger for the days sunbathing.

He spotted eight people on the shoreline, made up of two separate parties. Putting his requisite occupational activities to good use, he surmised that the closest group was the French party. Both parties were made up of two adults accompanied by two children, in each case a boy and girl, who also looked similar in ages. The French woman looked to be around 40, with a light caramel skin tone. Most probably what used to be termed a petit blanc, with one parent white and French and the other parent black and African. From his time in Africa, he had seen many such children, especially in the former French colonial countries. In Ben’s opinion they happened to be some of the most strikingly beautiful people on earth. With her tall, elegant, slender body and long neck, he guessed that she would be of Central African descent.

Ben ambled over to them, and in a Bordelais French accent greeted the man. “Bon apr s-midi mes amis. Quelle belle journ e au paradis.” Ben was not your typical perceived Scotsman with red hair and freckles. With his dark hair, tanned skin and his hazel with a hint of almond eyes, he had often been mistaken to be a local in many countries across the globe. This ability to blend in so easily, made him a natural at his job. Although a proud Scot and fiercely British at heart, Ben considered himself a true global citizen. Ben passionately believed in Marshall McLuhan’s 1964 prediction that the world would, due to electronic media and instant culture interchange, become a global village. As such, he proudly described himself as a Global Citizen to anyone who would listen.

It transpired that yes, the group was indeed French, the husband was from Marseilles and the wife was originally from Port Gentil, the oil capital of Gabon in Central Africa. Ben had been there in 2009, ostensibly to aid the Gabonese government in quelling the Port Gentil uprisings as a direct result of the alleged election fraud. Political sympathies put aside, it was a job and handsomely paid the bills, which was how Ben justified it to himself, but he failed to mention any of this to the charming French couple.

After partaking in the obligatory fresh air kissing for new friends, Ben bade his farewells, and wished them a pleasant stay in Scotland before making his way over to the German family. Using his standard greeting he addressed the tall blue eyed fair haired German male “Guten nachmittag meine freunde. Was f r ein sch ner tag im Paradies” The Germans being true to stereotype were a lot less friendly. After skimming a pebble with eight bounces into the still waters, Ben made his way back to the rented Range Rover. It was now 3.15pm and Ben decided that he should just get it over with and go on home.

Starting the engine, he put on his Aviator sunglasses and roared the big V6 engine into life. Belting down the road, he soon had hit 70 miles per hour. Soon he passed the One mile to Easter Bonit signpost and Moria was back in his head. Ben eased back off on the throttle, and coasted round the bend, signaled to turn, and then pulled the big SUV off the road and through a gap in the stone wall dyke that seemed to encompass a rather grand old stone building and estate. Driving up the driveway he quickly passed the small gate house and stopped the car some twenty yards past the building. He got out and walked purposefully back down to the Gate House and saw a big new wooden sign.

‘Welcome to Cameron House.’

That was new he thought. Knocking on the door of the Gate House, he soon realized it was not being inhabited, so he got back into the Range Rover and continued up the curved tree lined drive, before stopping in front of the grand four storey stately home. Cameron House had not changed one iota. Ben was finally home.

Getting out of the car, Sir Archibald Edward Cameron, XI Baronet of Cameron of Bunit, stretched his back and arms before he stood facing the front facade. Built in the sixteenth century, Cameron House had been the seat of the Cameron of Bunit clan ever since then. A robust building it had turrets on each corner and had been added to over the centuries. Rumours abound that Bonnie Prince Charlie had stayed the night with his army prior to his doomed failure the next day, and the Butcher (the Duke of Cumberland) the Kings son and his garrison had stayed there four days later, after quelling the Jacobite uprising. All Cameron’s (Ben included) to this day will neither deny nor confirm this.

Three flags adorned the flagpoles on top of the roof, these being The Union flag, St Andrews Cross flag and in the middle of three fluttered the Cameron of Bunit coat of arms flag.

Four stories, four turrets, eighty-three rooms, this was not your normal house, but to Ben it was home. Here he had wooed and seduced his first love Moira, here he had broken his first bone and obtained his first scar. Here he had driven his first car into a ditch, here he had his first and last hangover. This monstrosity was home, and he was the clan chieftain.

Getting out of the car, he heard the front door open followed by a rather high-pitched shriek.

“Archie, Archie oh my god Archie, is this really you, No way Archie you are home, salamat God!” Shrieked a little old Filipino lady running down to the car, “Po, po come here now “

Ben looked up and saw his old childhood nanny, a massive smiling big smile (SB) spread across his face.

“Nanay Ate is that really you?” he asked.

 In his childhood, Nanay Ate taught him to be grateful for everything, and to always have a smile on his face, so as to be Smiling Big (SB). Every day we wake up is a blessing, we are alive, no matter what happens that day, we are alive, that is your silver lining no matter what happens, so say it to the lord by smiling big (SB) every day until you do not wake up. Ben never knew why his parents had hired Nanay Ate and Uncle Po but knew there must have been a huge reason (personally he thought it must be connected to the Martial law of 1972, insurgency and lawlessness that ensued during President Marcos’s reign in The Philippines),  But he didn’t care how they came to be here, she was amazing, so small and so full of life. At four foot ten and built like a stick insect she was tiny, Uncle Po at five foot and one-half inch, don’t forget the half inch was not much better, but he had muscles like the infamous Filipino boxer cum politician Manny Pacquiao and no one and I mean no one from the surrounding villages ever messed with him.

Ben was taken aback and quickly trying to add ages in his head, hellsbells they must be pushing 80 he thought!

He swept Nanay Ate off her feet “Nanay I have missed you, you don’t look a day older than when I left” he said with tongue in cheek, “but you have no idea how happy I am you are still here, and where is my buddy Uncle Po”. With that, a crunching sound on the gravel was heard as a wheelbarrow full of carrots appeared around the corner being pushed by a sprightly if somewhat grey haired handsome Filipino gentleman.

“Uncle Po you old silver fox, how the devil are you?” beamed a smiling Ben.

“Oh, you know, surviving under the good grace of Nanay Ate and our Father” exclaimed Po, first pointing to Nanay Ate then pointing upwards to the sky. Impulsively they all group hugged, all acutely aware that none of them had been sure if they would ever see each other again. Instinctively Po went to the boot of the Range Rover to get the bags, but Ben stopped him, “No, enough of that” and promptly took his own suitcase and hand baggage out of the boot.

“Nanay Ate, why don’t you go and make us all a cup of tea with some border biccies and bring them into the front left drawing room and let’s have a good old catch up” Archie said.

Stepping through the wide front door into the vast atrium. Ben felt like he had never been away. Looking up he saw the huge paintings of all the past Baronets and looking down on him was his father Sir Edward Archibald Cameron, X Baronet of Cameron of Bunit.

“Am home for a wee bit pops” whispered Ben to his fathers’ painting. Sir Edward had died eleven years ago, and Archie being incarcerated in a Columbian revolutionist jail at the time was unable to attend the funeral. His mother died of a broken heart six months later, and again Archie had been unable to return, as this time the jail belonged to a rather vicious terrorist group in Yemen. He did, however, keep in touch with the family lawyer via email. In his absence, Nanay Ate and Uncle Po, with the help of various workers, had agreed to run the estate whilst Archie was away. And from what Archie could see and had been told, they had been doing an absolutely wonderful job so far.

To be continued ....

Thank you for reading.

Copyright @TengoLoTodo  2021 and yes All Rights Reserved. All images and words are from the author unless source mentioned. Lead Image from Pixabay.

Haste ye back.