The busyness nowadays made me long for a simple life like way back during my pre-school years when I was still in Iloilo.I spent most of my time with my three male cousins – flying kites in rice fields, hunting fighting spiders in the woods, playing hide-and-seek in the tangle of trees and bushes around our house. We would spend hours in river bank sitting in tree branches with our naked feet dangling touching the water, throwing earth to the water and watching the ripples fade.When we were in high spirits, we would skim the water with pebbles and compete who could make the most number of skips, or at times prove our manhood by competing who could pee the farthest.Sometimes we would bring used mosquito nets and sweep the shallow part of river for fish and shrimps. Those who are adventurous enough would grope the holes for small crabs, and those who are very cute sometimes get pinched and end up having long naps under the shadow of mango trees.
If rain comes, we would bring fish poles since the water is high with brown slippery earthworms as baits.If I remember that moment, I shudder and could almost imagine the agony of earth worms as they shrink and wiggle once we cut their slender bodies into three, and pierce them with fish pole hooks. We would stand like scare-crows without moving afraid that the movement of our shadows would scare the fishes, holding our poles and moving it slowly right to left and vice versa, like a pendulum, waiting for the fishes to bite. Once the string of the pole jerks, we would yank it, and behold, a cat fish is shaking wildly and hanging on the hook.
Before the day ends, we would cook our loot over firewood and dip them in vinegar mixed with chili, onions, garlic and ginger, and feast voraciously. All of my cousins eat the shrimps raw, a thing which I could still not manage to do, even twenty years hence.
At night – especially during full moon – we would play hide-and-seek with other kids in the neighborhood, and often exchange shirts to confuse the seeker.This is because since once the seeker made a mistake in booming names, that person is saved and could save another player.One time, when I was the seeker, I went at the back of the house pretending to look for them and went to my room and slept. They were very angry at me the next morning that they didn’t talk to me for one day.
When we consumed our energy playing at night, and the rest of my cousins were already sound asleep, John (not his real name) and I would sneak out and lie down on the Bermuda grass at my cousin's house’s façade and admire the moon.We would talk until midnight about our dreams and often about his love interest, since I never had a crush until Grade 5.John had a girl from Manila who was always there during summer for vaction, a beautiful girl that was always pretending to play with our neighbor, but was obviously there to see him. The girl would come to our neighbor every day the entire vacation, but he was too modest and shy to even to talk to her. He would always cower like a makahiya leaf when the girl was near him; all the more if we tease him.I left when I was in Grade 6, and years later I gathered the girl still visited him until college, but take note: He had never even talked to her about his feelings. Now, the girl is already married.
During summer, it has been a custom to fly kites. My cousins were very crafty in making kites.The kite’s skeleton, which was lashed together with rubber, was usually made from carefully stripped-off bamboo, trimmed by a sharp bolo so that they could be bent. A plastic was then knitted to the bamboo skeleton using durable strings.Decorations which were made up of multi-colored shreds of soft plastics were then knotted on the strings surrounding the kite’s body.The final touch was the straw which was tied across the kite’s shoulders which made it sound when it was flying. We would spend our afternoon flying it, and sometimes chasing it when the tether breaks off.
After harvest was our most exciting days because we could hunt quails, wild ducks and other kinds of birds with our dogs. Most of the dogs in our province were trained to be hunters. When you shout the word “Hala” repeatedly and clap your hands, the dogs would simply go wild, and whimper if they smell something.They would chase the quails to their holes and dig eagerly until they finally capture them. Sometimes, they would hunt on their own and several minutes later they would come back with quails or birds flapping in their mouths.What was amazing was that most of the time, the birds were not really bitten at all. Of course, we were their following their tracks, with sling shots on our shoulders which we seldom use since birds were too fast, especially the quails, and it was almost impossible to hit them. Our plunder during hunting would usually end up as adobo colored with achuete, and I never tasted an adobo in my seventeen years here in Manila as delicious as what we had.
When I was not in my cousin’s house, I usually played with Michelle, a girl about two years younger who was the only kid in the neighborhood.We would play “bahay-bahayan”, her role was the mother and I was the father of the house.One time, we played cook, we sandwiched a grasshopper in makahiya leaves and pretended that we would eat it.To my great shock, Michelle ate the sandwich – she was four alright – and that scene ended with me yelling “Nay, si Michelle kinain yung tipaklong!”
Last week, I went home after seventeen years of exile. I tried to relive my life even for only three days -- except the bahay-bayan, of course -- no clattering keyboards, no mouse clicks, no books, no class records, no test papers to be checked, no students; just I and my cousins reliving our good old days.
If rain comes, we would bring fish poles since the water is high with brown slippery earthworms as baits.If I remember that moment, I shudder and could almost imagine the agony of earth worms as they shrink and wiggle once we cut their slender bodies into three, and pierce them with fish pole hooks. We would stand like scare-crows without moving afraid that the movement of our shadows would scare the fishes, holding our poles and moving it slowly right to left and vice versa, like a pendulum, waiting for the fishes to bite. Once the string of the pole jerks, we would yank it, and behold, a cat fish is shaking wildly and hanging on the hook.
Before the day ends, we would cook our loot over firewood and dip them in vinegar mixed with chili, onions, garlic and ginger, and feast voraciously. All of my cousins eat the shrimps raw, a thing which I could still not manage to do, even twenty years hence.
At night – especially during full moon – we would play hide-and-seek with other kids in the neighborhood, and often exchange shirts to confuse the seeker.This is because since once the seeker made a mistake in booming names, that person is saved and could save another player.One time, when I was the seeker, I went at the back of the house pretending to look for them and went to my room and slept. They were very angry at me the next morning that they didn’t talk to me for one day.
When we consumed our energy playing at night, and the rest of my cousins were already sound asleep, John (not his real name) and I would sneak out and lie down on the Bermuda grass at my cousin's house’s façade and admire the moon.We would talk until midnight about our dreams and often about his love interest, since I never had a crush until Grade 5.John had a girl from Manila who was always there during summer for vaction, a beautiful girl that was always pretending to play with our neighbor, but was obviously there to see him. The girl would come to our neighbor every day the entire vacation, but he was too modest and shy to even to talk to her. He would always cower like a makahiya leaf when the girl was near him; all the more if we tease him.I left when I was in Grade 6, and years later I gathered the girl still visited him until college, but take note: He had never even talked to her about his feelings. Now, the girl is already married.
During summer, it has been a custom to fly kites. My cousins were very crafty in making kites.The kite’s skeleton, which was lashed together with rubber, was usually made from carefully stripped-off bamboo, trimmed by a sharp bolo so that they could be bent. A plastic was then knitted to the bamboo skeleton using durable strings.Decorations which were made up of multi-colored shreds of soft plastics were then knotted on the strings surrounding the kite’s body.The final touch was the straw which was tied across the kite’s shoulders which made it sound when it was flying. We would spend our afternoon flying it, and sometimes chasing it when the tether breaks off.
After harvest was our most exciting days because we could hunt quails, wild ducks and other kinds of birds with our dogs. Most of the dogs in our province were trained to be hunters. When you shout the word “Hala” repeatedly and clap your hands, the dogs would simply go wild, and whimper if they smell something.They would chase the quails to their holes and dig eagerly until they finally capture them. Sometimes, they would hunt on their own and several minutes later they would come back with quails or birds flapping in their mouths.What was amazing was that most of the time, the birds were not really bitten at all. Of course, we were their following their tracks, with sling shots on our shoulders which we seldom use since birds were too fast, especially the quails, and it was almost impossible to hit them. Our plunder during hunting would usually end up as adobo colored with achuete, and I never tasted an adobo in my seventeen years here in Manila as delicious as what we had.
When I was not in my cousin’s house, I usually played with Michelle, a girl about two years younger who was the only kid in the neighborhood.We would play “bahay-bahayan”, her role was the mother and I was the father of the house.One time, we played cook, we sandwiched a grasshopper in makahiya leaves and pretended that we would eat it.To my great shock, Michelle ate the sandwich – she was four alright – and that scene ended with me yelling “Nay, si Michelle kinain yung tipaklong!”
Last week, I went home after seventeen years of exile. I tried to relive my life even for only three days -- except the bahay-bayan, of course -- no clattering keyboards, no mouse clicks, no books, no class records, no test papers to be checked, no students; just I and my cousins reliving our good old days.
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