Back about 30 something articles ago, I posted I think 4 chapters on The Best Years of my life...long sagas about my family's  journey from the Philippines to Australia.
I decided to continue my story for those of you who are interested.
 Unfortunately it is again a very long post, but if you bear with me, there are some giggles in it that you might enjoy...at my expense...which is okay with me....lol. I have divided it into two parts so you dont get bored...they were not exactly the best years but they added to my life's experiences...so I hope you enjoy it.
 
Anyway, the story finished off where Mama told me she was pregnant and I got upset about it....those of you who are "new" friends or dont know me as well as the others...if you want to read the other stories, go to my earlier  archives, there's about 4  articles to catch up on....if you're game....lol
 
 
Nikki was born on just over three weeks after my 15th birthday. It turned out she was premature and should have had another month but Mama was quite unwell with eclampsia and high blood pressure so she had to be induced. She was 47 years old and by normal standards way too old to be having a baby.
I remember she was such a beautiful little baby and although premature she had no complications and was a chubby, healthy little baby girl. She brought a lot of joy to Papa and became the centre of all his being.
Tragically, my parents by this time were going through the first stages of marital breakdown (stress from being poor can do that to a lot of marriages) and both focused on Nikki but separately instead of together and I often wonder if Nikki as a toddler could sense the huge gap between them.
Often times on some weekends if I wasn’t working, I would take Nikki by bus into the city to give Mama a break and for an outing she enjoyed very much.
I used to take her to the Esplanade, a huge park on the edge of the river and she used to run after seagulls and feed pigeons with some bread crusts from our lunch sandwiches.
We both hated crusts back then so the birds always got a treat. The funny thing I recall about those times is, people used to assume she was my baby and sometimes I received strange looks when I tried to tell them that she was in fact my sister. Back in those days when I was 16, I was still naive enough to believe that 16 year olds don’t have babies and I used to wonder why people would think she was mine.
I remember on one occasion, we were sitting on a blanket having our sandwiches and a lovely grandmotherly type lady came over to say what a beautiful baby I had. When I told her Nikki was my sister and not my baby, she asked me if that was what my mother told me to tell strangers. I said no, she really is my sister, and the lady gave me a strange look and walked away. After that I didn’t bother to correct people anymore, they were strangers anyway and I wouldn’t be seeing them again. They just came over to admire my beautiful baby and went on their merry way so I didn’t feel a need to explain any further.
Papa at this stage had  resigned from his job due to his health, Mama had already resigned a few months before, and we were living off Papa’s disability health benefits. It was nowhere near enough and things were very tough. My parents thought the best thing was for Christian was to join the Army and finish his education with them, a very good option as it turned out, for him.
They took care of everything, medical, dental, accommodation, education, discipline, physical fitness and he thrived. The only thing was he had to live in the regular army base in Sydney, way across the other side of the continent, and we only saw him at Christmas.
Things got worse for us financially so towards the end of my second year of high school, my parents made the decision that I had to leave school and get a job to help with the finances. I remember being very distraught about it but I wasn’t given a choice. I don’t remember being resentful of them back then, and I am not complaining or feeling sorry for myself about it now. It wasnt the best start to adult life but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do..so you get on with it.
Susan and Dondi were too young and still had to go to school so I was their only option. Christian earned a very little amount of “pocket money” at the Army so he couldn’t really help very much.
So, uneducated little me had to go and find a job at 15 years of age. Papa had registered me for a job with the PMG (Postmaster General’s office) in telecommunications but I had to wait for the next staff induction and sit for an exam (English, math and general knowledge) before I could put my name down for any available position. I had to wait for three months so Papa got me a job with Woolworths in the city. I was put behind the stationery counter as a sales clerk and earned a pittance (15 year olds get paid less than minimum wage sometimes) and I had a “run-in” with my boss because he kept insisting I had to tie my hair up.
I had very very long hair back then, it was down to my bum, and I used to leave most of it loose except for a ribbon I tied on top of my head to keep the hair off my face.
He kept harassing me about this and said it was dangerous and my hair could catch on some of the fixtures and demanded that I tied it up in a bun. I was a pretty fiery teenager back then with a very short fuse, a persecution complex and a “woe is me” attitude.
I didn’t even want to be there in the first place, but I had to work, so nobody was going to tell me what I could or couldn’t do with my own hair!!!
That was the end of that story; needless to say I was fired from my very first job.
(The only "unforgettable incident I can remember (apart from being fired) in the two or three months I worked there was, there was a lovely lady in the office, her name was Heather...and a really nice guy, Mike, who was the storeman at the back in charge of all the stock for the store. I liked these two very much because they were very kind to me.
One day I found out that Mike was marrying Heather so I thought I would get them a nice gift, which I did...I saved as much of my lunch money as I could and bought them a really beautiful vase.
When I went to give them my gift (on Friday, the day before their wedding), it turns out that Mike was getting married to a Heather, but not the Heather in the office.....now HOW embarrassing is that....I just turned 16, and what do 16 year olds do in such an embarrassing situation? They burst into tears...that's what!!! I raced out of there so fast and left them to sort out what to do with the wedding gift....lol. )
I remember feeling so scared to go home and tell my folks that I was fired. I walked around the city all day feeling lost, alone, miserable and not brave enough to go home.
Eventually I decided, going home to face the music was my only option, I didn’t have any money in my purse, I was starving (I remember that) and very tired. I can’t remember what happened when I told my folks (my brain decided to block out that memory, thank goodness). Anyway, I still had another couple of months to go before my induction to the PMG so I had to find another job.
The only “experience” I had was as a sales clerk so I managed to find another job with a shoe store. I think this is where my love of shoes started.
But it was an awful job, you won’t believe the way people treat their feet, it is a part of the body not too many people seem to focus on and it was gross!!!
As many times as possible I tried to avoid being on the floor selling shoes and volunteered to go up to the lunch room to prepare coffee and clean up everyone’s mess.
To me that was better than seeing people’s revolting feet all day long.
(Don’t worry, I am chuckling about it now, looking back and you may too if you wish).
to be continued......