My grandfathers are Chinese. - 1 minute read
My father enjoys narrating the tale of how my brother and I were the first homeless people.
Back then, when we were young children, in the late 1960s, San Fernando, La Union, didn't have any beggars on its streets. Dad told us that one of my Chinese grandfathers came with us as he begged his rich friends for money so he could continue to indulge in his drug, opium.
Yes, I had a Chinese grandfather who was addicted to opium. He went by Ashok Ah Kong. He wasn't actually a blood relative; rather, he was the brother-in-law of my paternal lolo.
When the public market caught fire in 1969, our family, along with everyone else in the neighborhood, fled to the neighboring seashore. Ashok Ah Kong was left behind in the confusion and was subsequently discovered dead in his cot, shrouded under a black mosquito net. I suppose Ashok Ah Kong must have been "high" till his passing, when the public market burnt and everyone panicked.
