4
Lim Po’s Lovebirds
The family was growing, and Lim Po was providing. Imports from China were selling like rice cakes: teapots decorated with blue dragons, birds
and butterflies; porcelain bowls; and soaps perfumed with sandalwood.
“The Japanese have something up their sleeves,” he’d say. “They keep sending their men here to build our roads. They got pockets full of pesos to spend. They buy anything
from China. Mark my words: we make a profit off them today, but tomorrow, they will make us pay. Those devils are up to something.”
Whenever his shipment came in, Lim Po would take Nicodemus, his first son, and go down to the lowlands to fetch it.
“The boy is missing too much school,” scolded his wife.
“I’m teaching him something of value, not like those Belgian nuns over there, overch
