DON'T MESS WITH ROSA

 

ROSA GUMATAOTAO TENORIO

1888 ~ 1969

Alfonso was a píkaro (naughty) man in his early 20s. He had been caught more than once sneaking into people's homes.

But one night in 1925 he tried once too much.

He made the mistake of sneaking into the house of JUAN NAUTA TENORIO and his wife, the former ROSA GUMATAOTAO.

Rosa was the mother of three young daughters by 1925 : Amanda, aged 18; Rita, aged 16 and Encarnación, aged 15. There were also two young sons, José and Juan, both not even teenagers yet.

But Rosa was no woman to mess with.

It was ten o'clock that night and everyone was in bed, but not necessarily sleeping. Rosa and daughter Encarnación were lying in the såla or living room, evidently on the guåfak or woven floor mat. The two other daughters, Amanda and Rita, were lying on an actual bed in the apusento or inner room/bedroom. The door was shut, but not locked, as was often the case on Guam in those days.

In walked Alfonso, without so much as knocking or calling out, and he quickly blew out the one lamp resting on the table in the såla. 

Immediately, Encarnación called out to whoever this man was, asking why he put out the light. Realizing he was discovered, Alfonso made a run for the door, but Rosa was no slow poke. She caught up to Alfonso just as he got to the door and she grabbed his shirt, holding him back and preventing him from escaping through the door.

Rosa asked, "Why are you here? Are you asking for the hand of any of my daughters?" Denying that he was, he tried to pull free. But Rosa testified in court, "But being of superior strength, I got a piece of iron rod and hit him by the head with it, and then got a piece of rope and tied him to a post in my house, in order to be identified by the authorities. I sent my daughter Amanda to wake up Jesús Matanane Cruz, better known as Ibang, to look for a policeman, which Matanane went away and and came back with a patrolman..." While all this was going on, one of the daughters had lit the lamp again.

Grabbed his shirt; hit him with an iron rod and tied him to a post with rope. Not bad for a Chamorro matron, with no help from a man. Don't underestimate the capabilities of a protective Chamorro mother.

In fairness to Alfonso, he later straightened out, got married and raised a family. Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.

A PERSONAL NOTE

I was only seven years old when Rosa passed away, but I knew her daughters Amanda and Rita, who lived close to Saint Jude Church in Sinajaña and went to Mass every day, all dressed for church in mourner's black until their own deaths, which was the old custom.

Had I known this story back in the 1970s and 80s when I knew the two sisters, I would have asked them, "Sangåne yo' pot si Alfonso!" "Tell me about Alfonso!" I would have loved to know what they remembered of this story.

Thanks to my fellow Sinajañan and friend Patricia Tuncap Andrews, great granddaughter of Rosa, for Tan Rosa's photo and to Carmela Cruz, another great granddaughter, for the photo of Encarnación.

THE THREE SISTERS