While my high-school years were definitely interesting and colorful, I cannot quite help but feel melancholic about this sudden reminder of my dearly loved yet often forgotten past. Work, career, family and other personal commitments caught up with me and had kept me from visiting my grandma’s place as often as I would have wanted. In fact, I have to admit that since my grandma’s passing more than 20 years ago, I don’t really have any strong motivation to make time and re-visit the place. And so today, I would like to take some time to pause and do as I do now, reminiscing old memories….
I spent a large part of my childhood with my grandmother. Growing up in a quiet, sleepy town in Mindanao, my favorite past time as a young girl was to day dream. Guilty as charged, I did have a Cinderella complex, that is, I would actually imagine having a fairy godmother that would grant me my every whim and desire.As the eldest grandchild, well, the only child, in my grandmother’s big two-storey house, playing alone by myself didn’t upset me. My pretend playmates in the form of a rag doll, a well-loved teddy bear and a few other prized possessions—gifts from parents and relatives, along with my very rich imagination, were my constant, pleasant companion. I remembered long hours of fun in the afternoon climbing one tree to another, even tall ones like the coconut trees that surrounded our old ancestral home. One day, I am a princess in a beautiful castle, a merchant selling candies made of clay or perhaps a hunter inside a cave. There was never a time that I felt alone or even lonely despite the lack of obvious playmate.
The few times that I did have a playmate were all in the form of our washer woman’s son and having a boy to share dolls and teddy bears with wasn’t a pleasant alternative. Too much of convincing that my doll is not a canon ball is enough for me to relinquish my right to a play date, I definitely preferred being alone than play with a semi-sadistic, snot running little tyke.
I relish the time when I can happily sing and dance amidst the rain fall, thumping on sludge of mud, with not a single care of this world. Time seemed to slow down in the province back then and yes, we do sleep right after dinner and that would be about 8 o’clock in the evening.
I vaguely remembered the night time ritual just prior to dinner of watching any one of the soap operas offered by the only 2 television stations back then. I think the TV series were entitled Flordeluna and Annaliza. I didn’t understand the show and I would always wonder why grandma and several of our neighbors and house helps would discreetly wipe off a tear punctuated with silent sobs from time to time. The puffy red eyes were always a give away after the show and my uncles who were then the classic, naughty teenagers would tease my grandma on end.
Ahh, yes, back then, it was very common for neighbors to come knocking at one’s door to borrow salt or in this case, watch a soap opera on TV. Back then, I think people were much friendlier, more open, more loving….people simply cared.
My grandma’s town is right at the middle of Davao and Butuan City. To get there, one must take a bus from either side. You will know you reached the place when you could hardly feel your butt being there. Three hours of stiff sitting with very little chance of having unshared seats that allows one to a comfortable recline, is enough to get even the most practiced sentry guard complain. Back then, there were also few air conditioned buses so the usual travels to get to the city was quite an ordeal, a sure test of patience and endurance. Being a child though, I get the exception of being able to take a nap right at my uncle’s or any seat mate’s lap for that matter. I usually doze off the whole 3 hours of travel, which is a good thing. Traveling to the city had been one of the things I look forward to as a child although each trip had been far between. Perhaps, the travel torture was too much for my adult relatives to bear.
Perhaps it has been more than 20 years since I last visited the place, saved of course for that measly 2 hours I sneaked to get to Trento a year ago. I was out on an official reconnaissance trip to Butuan City with a group from Dept. of Science and Technology and a few other fashion accessory manufacturers and exporters. Seeing that we were somehow free for the afternoon, I decided to sneak out for a quick, hurried trip to Trento. The travel going there on a bus is far longer than the actual time I got myself seated in the old sofa still currently used by my uncle’s family who now resides in my grandma’s house. My mom once joked that traveling to Trento, we only need to pay an extra P10 fare to get to heaven. I’m sure she would be amused to hear me say this now; she has indeed gone to heaven almost 3 years ago.
Reaching the place, it was like being in a stranger’s house. There had been some changes to the house yet at the same time; there were several traces of the old. Despite the alterations, I do not resent my uncle and his family for renovating the place. After all, the house was largely made of wood and after sometime, wood materials, no matter how strong, tends to wither and aged from elements. It was just proper and quite expected that some of its parts would not last past 20 years.
Nonetheless, I loved the place. It was there that I first witnessed the reddening of the sky just as the mid afternoon sun sets. It was there that I have counted the stars only to get lost by their number or their glitter or to walk the rice paddies of the sea of greens. It was for me, simply a piece of heaven on earth. Despite the distance and time that has separated me from the place; I am pleasantly surprised to feel the familiar warmth, the tender yet firm tug the place gave on my memories of years gone by.
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