The sailboat relied solely on wind and there were entire days with no movement. It was not a comfortable journey. Aside from the constant fear of being discovered, the boat had no benches and the lower deck had no windows. There was also no bathroom. To do their business, everyone had to overcome their shyness. In my lola's words "We had to go to the back of the batel and with somebody holding your hand so that you would not fall into the sea, you just squatted (over the side of the boat) and did our thing."
Read MoreWhen Dada would recall his romantic years, he would blush, remembering how the common water shed made encounters possible, by the poso and palikuran (restroom), where the townsfolk would commune for their daily ration of water and sanitation. It was also a time when paglalako or peddling of goods was a common sight, and everyone would think of a way to raise money just by toting along their goods and shouting at the top of their lungs. Dada would woo my Nanay by offering his help to carry the bilao (wick tray) or by fetching her by the main road to carry her bayong (native shopping bag) to my lola’s house.
Read MoreFor most people, life with their parents can be long-running films, and that's the case between me and Mommy. With Dad, however, it's mostly snapshots, interspersed with a short video clip here and there. If the story jumps back and forth across three decades, it's because the photos are few and far between, and each of them carries volumes.
My story with them starts here; if the smiles on their faces hint that they're up to something, it's because they were, and that it was a secret.
Read MoreMom was napping in her cot one day when there was a bombing raid. Her mother was ill at the time and her two brothers, both in their early teens, had carried her mother all the way to a relative’s house before they realized that they’d left the baby behind. Her oldest brother, my uncle Juny, who must have been thirteen at the time, ran back for her, pushing his way against a solid tide of desperate, fleeing people, with planes screaming overhead, dropping their deadly loads.
Read MorePops tells us that, back then, Pasay shared a long coastal area with Manila and Paranaque – often a site for swimming or witnessing a scenic setting sun by the bay to mark the end of the day. Before Dasmarinas and Forbes, Pasay housed a community of un-gated villages and walled properties with no condominiums.
Read MoreNo matter where we went, the eating continued throughout the day. Halo-halo from the restaurant by the bay, or peanuts that had been freshly steamed, the shells still caked with dirt that would get stuck beneath our fingernails. When we’d get home, it was typical for Mama Lola to open her giant refrigerator, asking us what we wanted for dinner.
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