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Our story

Four letters

Diego grew up in San Diego and spoke his parents’ Tagalog only at the table. When he started writing to Malaya, he wrote in it anyway. She answered in English, to tease him. Each letter is here in the hand it was written in, with a translation for whoever reads the other language.

  1. A single broken capiz pane resting on a worn wooden windowsill, late light through the pearly shell, a pencil and a folding ruler beside it.

    01

    The window with the broken capiz

    Taal · June 2019

    Diego was on the restoration of an old house on Taal’s heritage street, measuring its windows one pane at a time. Malaya came for a chest of piña cloth the family wanted saved. She found him on a ladder, holding a broken capiz shell up to the light, and told him he was holding it upside down. He was.

    Binibining Malaya, tama ka: baligtad nga. Inayos ko na ang bintana. Kung babalik ka para sa piña sa Sabado, makikita mo kung paano tumatagos ang liwanag.

    — D.

    In English Miss Malaya, you were right: it was upside down. I have mended the window. If you come back for the piña on Saturday, you will see how the light comes through.

  2. Handwritten letters spread on a narra desk, some words crossed out, airmail envelopes and a fountain pen beside them, a capiz window soft behind.

    02

    Letters

    2020 to 2022

    Then the world closed for a while. Diego decided to write to her in Tagalog, and his letters came full of crossed-out words. Hers came back in English, with his spelling corrected in the margins.

    Malaya, tatlong araw kong isinulat ito. Hindi ko alam kung tama ang “nangungulila”, pero iyon ang nararamdaman ko.

    — D.

    In English Malaya, it took me three days to write this. I do not know if “nangungulila” is right, but it is what I feel.

    Diego, it is right. It is exactly right. Your “ng” and “nang” are still a disaster. Write again.

    — M.

    In Tagalog Diego, tama iyon. Tamang-tama. Gulo pa rin ang “ng” at “nang” mo. Sumulat ka ulit.

  3. An old ivory terno with stiff butterfly sleeves on a dressmaker’s form, a needle and thread pinned at one sleeve, light from a capiz window.

    03

    Lola’s terno

    Batangas · May 2024

    Malaya’s grandmother was married in a terno of piña with butterfly sleeves. It had lain folded in tissue for fifty years. Malaya spent a summer mending it thread by thread, the way she mends other families’ heirlooms, and decided, about halfway through, that she would wear it.

    Lola, the left sleeve is done. It holds its shape again. I am not giving it back.

    — M.

    In Tagalog Lola, tapos na ang kaliwang manggas. Buo na ulit ang hugis nito. Hindi ko na ito isasauli.

  4. The azotea of an old house at dusk, its capiz windows lit warm from inside, two rattan chairs by the balustrade and a small card on the ledge.

    04

    On the azotea

    Taal · February 2026

    The house was finished, and its family asked Diego to see it lit for the first time. He took Malaya up to the azotea at dusk and asked her in Tagalog, without a single crossed-out word. She answered in Tagalog too.

    Pakakasalan mo ba ako?

    In English Will you marry me?

    Oo.

    In English Yes.

And now, the fifth letter is yours

Write back: tell them you are coming, in whichever language you like.

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