what was i like when i was a kid?
i was prompted to ask this question after watching a playful little boy on the jeep with her mother (27 apr 2008, on my way home from bulacan).
i remember my “bus rides” when i was little. my mother and i would go to sorsogon to visit my sisters. they were “adopted” by a school teacher. in exchange for their schooling, they were to stay with her. she’s single which means no family of her own. she was a little stringent (i learned that later – matandang dalaga kasi?).
sorsogon is an hour and a half (two at most) from our place.
i always look forward to those bus rides. my mom would complain about physical fatigue after the trips. she’s exhausted because most of the times i would stand on her thighs to have a view of the roads ahead (lucky for her if we got a seat in front). i enjoyed watching the scenery. i think at a young age i was able to memorize the twist, curves and turns of the way. sometimes i count the bridges we had passed through. i don’t have motion sickness. i think i never really sleep on those travels. i was always looking out for what could be new and different from the last time we passed. i can tell now that i developed my inclination to travel on those rides.
one time, we got stranded in sorsogon because of a strong typhoon. when we finally reached home, our house was toppled down by the strong winds. all that was left was the roof. it was like the body was taken away and the roof remained lying in dirt. i remember i have to crawl my way in to see if there could be anything of our things that could still be salvaged. we keep our clothes in boxes. in a small house like ours we did not have cabinets and even rooms (much like studio type houses these days). but we have a kitchen. and a cot (papag).
the whole time i was there, our house had undergone renovations (i guess, once in every 5 years) and major repairs. this is the beauty of bahay kubo. the looks of the house could be transformed with such an ease. the trouble is, it’s not as strong as the houses made of concrete.
i have two more childhood memoirs to post. entitled poverty and revelation. the first will explain why i make a fuss about the poor’s misery so much (because i’m one of them?). and the other, if you know me, will shock you.
iamthebestph