Chapter 4

"Why Am I So Different?" 

[2009]

On weekends, if he wasn't on duty out of town, Dad would read the newspaper, books, or magazines after breakfast or towards late afternoon. Usually accompanied by a cup of black coffee and snacks that's made by Mom. That Sunday afternoon I saw Dad relaxing in the back porch with a newspaper spread out, there was a cup of coffee still steaming and a plate of boiled cassava on the side table next to the chair Dad was sitting in. I walked towards him timidly.

"Dad..."

"Hmm," Dad's answer was only a soft murmur from behind the pages of the newspaper that stretched, blocking our view. Clearly his attention was poured into what he was reading.

"Why am I different from Rachel and Alena? Why am I dark, curly, ugly?! Am I not you and Mom's child?" I asked softly.

The newspaper in Dad's hand went down at super speed. A pair of his eyes behind glasses widened staring at me.

"WHAT? What did you just say?"

"Why am I ugly, not like Bari, Rachel, and Lena?" I said while bowing down. My hands were busy twirling my t-shirt.

Even though yesterday Jano had comforted me with his explanation that I look like Dad, my little heart was still not satisfied if I didn't reveal the big 'mystery' of "why I am so different from my siblings" to Dad. The taunts of the kids from our street still echoed in my head. I was still keeping the anxiety in my heart. And I needed a more definite answer from my parents.

My Dad, the man who according to Jano passed his face to me, finally put his newspaper aside. He looked at me while waving his hand telling me to come closer while saying, "Come here."

I approached him. Dad's hands reached for my body and put me on his lap. Secretly my heart was so happy because I could get his attention. Rarely could I be spoiled with Dad because of his busy work all this time.

"Tamara," he said patiently. Oh yeah, Dad is the only person in the house who always calls me by my real name, not Tammy. "Humans are amazing creatures, complicated, and also unique. Our bodies consist of chemical elements, molecules, that form body organs. Inside us we carry genes, DNA, chromosomes, and so on. And that is what gives or passes down the same or similar distinctive traits or characteristics within a family. From our predecessors, it could be grandma, grandpa, great-grandparent, and maybe generations before them that existed long before us, passed down continuously until you at this time. We will never know whether we will inherit genes from who among them. You are very lucky to inherit the biggest gene from Dad's family. While Bari, Rachel, and Alena carry the biggest genes from your Mom's family."

Me, who was still in second grade of elementary school, was of course confused by Dad's explanation. But one thing that comforted me: Jano was right. I am not an adopted child or a victim of wrong baby taking at the hospital.

"Is that true, Dad?"

"Of course. You are Dad's child. Don't think weird things, that you are an adopted child or what!" Dad said while laughing and pinching my nose. I laughed too. I hugged Dad tightly.

"Try taking the big photo album in that cupboard, bring it here," Dad continued. His finger pointed to the large cupboard in the living room, where Mom kept family photo albums. I obeyed what Dad told me. After finding the album in question, I brought that thing to him.

Dad opened that album on his lap, flipping through sheets containing old photos of people I didn't know. When he found what he was looking for, He showed me a photo that was already somewhat yellowed, the edges of the photo were wavy, not straight anymore.

"Look, do you know who the woman sitting in the middle is, Tamara?" he asked me, which of course I answered with a shake of my head. "This is Dad's Grandma, means she is your Great-Grandma. Look at her photo carefully, Tamara."

My childish eyes examined the figure Dad meant. A woman with long curly hair sat upright, there was a polka-dot cloth adorning the top of her head that functioned as a headband. The woman's lips smiled a little, but her facial expression was like keeping a mystery. Next to her sat a dashing and handsome man. The two of them were like a king and queen surrounded by their children standing beside and behind the chairs.

I turned to Dad. "He looks like Dad!" I said while pointing to the photo of the man sitting on the chair.

Dad laughed. "The other way around, Dad looks like Dad's Grandpa. You've seen it, right, you really resemble Dad's Grandma, or your Great-Grandma, Tamara."

"Buuut... Dad's Grandma is like a queen," I whispered. At that time I didn't understand the terms graceful and elegant, so it was difficult for me to say what was in my mind. But my Great-Grandma's pose was similar to a queen illustration I had seen from one of the books I had read.

Dad smiled. He stroked my frizzy hair.

"Grandpa said, Grandma's grace is what made him fall in love with her, besides her unique and sweet face. Your Great-Grandma was tall, Tamara."

"As tall as Dad?" I asked innocently.

"Maybe. When Dad's height had stopped growing, Grandma was no longer young, her life was mostly spent in a chair or bed. So Dad didn't have time to compare our heights," Dad explained. "Grandpa said Grandma was considered a tall girl."

This physical difference became a source of problems that settled in my heart. Although Dad had convinced me that I am not an adopted child, this difference still made me sensitive and uneasy, every time I saw people's confused & bewildered expressions when seeing the four of us. That's also what made me think: "why does God have a strange sense of humor when releasing me into this world?"

Three good-looking kids with one clown in the middle. Was He joking when designing me in the middle of my family? Of course this difference makes it not easy for me to live my life. The example is clear:

"Tammy dark and frizzy, hair so crappy, look so messy."

Those chants kept ringing in my ears. Over and over again. 

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