Monday, November 5

Attack of the nostalgic memories

I was reading a recently bought fantasy book series -- The Wheel of Time -- when I suddenly got hit by a wave of childhood memories. The book didn't do it. The page I was reading was about the protagonist being chased by 'minions of the Dark One' etc, etc. But surprisingly, I just started to think about home and life at the age of seven.

I can't recall the last time I thought that much about my childhood.

Until I was in mid-teens, I grew up in a 'barangay' -- a place which isn't a secluded subdivision or something with a homeowners association (think Desperate Housewives). It was a place where kids played on the street, where every other street light was broken, and where at night every five houses had a sari-sari (HFS) store.

I remember the two-floor apartment I grew up in, with my parents and my two siblings. How we all shared one room. Also, that we had sublet the next room for a few years to young adults who were working (our barangay was very close to the main business district).

I remember getting chicken pox / measles, and how I was bedridden for a month. That's when I bonded with my Gameboy console.

A policeman and his family occupied the apartment next to us. I remember being scared of him. It didn't help that he kept two large black dogs as pets - larger than I was at 7 years old. They always barked at me from their cage.

I had a crush on the girl two apartments down. It didn't matter that she was 3 years older than me. I always tried to visit their house on the pre-text of playing games with her younger brother (who was the same age as me). I grew out of the crush many years later.

The farthest apartment on our row belonged to an old grandfather and his wife. I was scared of them the most. I think I never once visited their apartment.

I always frequented the small local parish church at the corner of our street. With its untended garden, quiet afternoons, and old pews. 'Sunday' mass was always celebrated as a saturday evening anticipated mass.

There was this huge bakery 2 street corners away. It was always worth it to walk there every afternoon to buy a 'pan de sal' (spanish bread) or egg pie (soft cream pie made out of milk+eggs) for afternoon snack. It helped that across the street was a mega sari-sari (HFS) store that stocked all kinds of snacks and sweets.

On the next street parallel to ours was a government-run public elementary school. There was this small 'school supplies' shop beside it that I frequented at late nights when I needed to buy something for school the next day. Cartolina. Manila papers. Marker pens. Bond papers. Coloring materials.

Five streets away was this video rental store -- back when Betamax was still the norm. I remember borrowing a Betamax tape of 'An American Tail,' and having to buy a new copy for the storeowner four months later. Apparently, I broke the tape by watching it many, many, many times over.

Our street wasn't flat -- it was a 300meter stretch on a slanted uphill slope. Our apartment was at the bottom. At the top was this huge overgrowth of gumamela flowers. They were the only flowers I saw on our street.

I grew up on Sampaguita street since I was two years old. We moved when I was fifteen.

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