Ben
I was then so young, about seven or eight and I still can remember how the rivalry works or perhaps if not the rivalry, a certain conflict that every neighbor goes through. Back then, I was not really paying attention and I did not know where and how it all started. I have never heard his voice, or maybe just once, when he was trying to shoo me away from their backyard. I never had a conversation with him, never. One day, I saw people outside of their home, doors and windows were all open and there were lights everywhere. I saw that it was a wake, someone died. The coffin was inside their home with flowers and sash, Mang Ben, as we all call him already bid his goodbye. I just have few encounters with Mang Ben - when I was a kid, a college student, and the last would be when I was already working. I just heard he was hit by a stroke, maybe two or three years ago but he recovered. Sometimes, I saw him walking around the neighborhood wearing his blue or green slip...