Portrait of My Hometown (Part 2): The Birth of Metamorphosis

Life at the Country Sides

We moved to Tayuman last summer of ‘87. The house was nearly complete but still needed finishing touches. Some of those “finishing touches” came later when there were extra money; some never came at all for the lack of it or due to other pressing needs, like schooling and the family business. The basic shell of our house remain unaltered save for the front lawn which became an open resting place, a covered work area for the family business and the “future garage” at different points in time. There were still no cemented streets to this very day even though the population had tripled after almost 15 years. Running water had been installed finally but potable water still had to be purchased from nearby water stations. Security took various degrees of beating and fortunately, we have never been victims of nighttime looters. During my high school and college years, I experienced going home during the wee hours of the morning. I remember walking from the National Road up to our compound (which was like 50 meters) and the gigantic Sampaloc tree along a dark portion of the Barrio road looked really intimidating.  Sometimes, there would be a group of young men huddled there and who knows what they were up to! I’ve heard one too many creepy stories about ghouls along Barrio Road

and even inside the compound but I’ve never encountered one myself after all those years of traversing those dark, tree-laden dirt roads.

The community is serene throughout the school seasons.  Summers and Christmas vacations were the busiest time of the year. Our house faced the open space that was the center of the compound’s activities. Sports tournament, Fiesta, Miss Gay Beauty Pageant, Battle of the Bands and everything under the hot Tayuman sun was held in this mini-Plaza. When I was younger I’ve been a part of those activities as an organizer.

Basketball tournament was held in April for the fathers, teens and kids. We alternated as cheerers and officials for the game. Town fiesta is held every June. The sound of the nearby carnival can be heard at the onset of the afternoon up until midnight. Although we never really took the fiesta seriously, the Homeowners decided to hold our own Foundation Day every April.

During the early years, the most awaited event was of course the New Year Party held at the Basketball court. We actually pioneered this to make it an event that everybody would look forward to. There would be parlor games, food, gifts and raffle, disco and a time for homeowners to socialize. It was a party for all the Homeowners and the youth club spearheaded the preparations. I experienced leading the youth club while I was in college. I was actually in my 2^nd semester of my returning year in college and we decided not to enter at the dormitory that semester. After school, I would normally spend time for the youth club’s activities. It was not an easy task, especially since we had no funds to start with and some people were bound to think only of their self-serving interests, but I survived. It was in the same year when I entered the Thomasian Engineer Journal where there were tons of things to do as a staff writer. And of course, I had to ensure that my grades were in good shape especially since I was a returning student and it was not easy catching up on things that I missed in school.

I do not know how and where I got all that energy then—thinking about them now made me wonder how I was able to do all those difficult tasks! I guess, it was spurned by the passion to do the things you love doing.

The Birth of Metamorphosis

Before the front lawn was converted into an enclosed workshop, I spent long hours at the open area, sitting at the reclining wooden chair and just staring at the summer sky. Watching the stars and the constellations fascinate me. I could sit there for hours, unaware of the hours passing by. The night sky has been the inspiration of countless stories, poems and anecdotes, which I have written through the years and gave birth to the writer in me. I encountered a shooting star twice while I was watching the sky. The second shooting star was the inspiration behind the article “Metamorphosis” which became the name of my column for the Thomasian Engineer Journal. Whenever I get the chance to visit my folks and stay for the night, I make it a point to spend a few minutes outside the house which had been my home for the past 12 years, to breathe in her fresh air and to marvel at her skies.

The stream of memories came flooding back. The different folks and culture; the endless trips to the deep well to collect a day’s supply of water; the long hours of doing laundry, the routine of a day’s work. The long travel to and from home to my school in Cubao. The rainy days that meant trodding through the muddy roads, the no-jeep days, traffic and tardiness. The SK days at the compound, Christmas and New Year’s Eve parties for the young and old, summer games. Brown-outs and homework over lamplight; my UST Dorm days; the years I worked at Dunkin Donuts and Pizza Hut; The TE journal days; Sleepless nights; Thesis and Projects; Graduating; Working at Ayala and the Cabuyao Plant EOs until midnight and beyond.

Growing up at the country had been so different vs. the life I led while we were still in the city. I cannot say though that one episode was better than the other.

When I think about it, my life has been a constant shift between the city and the country. One leads to the other, an incessant interflow clearly evident in my life. The country and the city were both very much a part of me. Where Cubao reminded me of my carefree days of childhood, Tayuman is the cornerstone of my formative years when my consciousness about life and the world was shaped. The city boasts of modern lifestyle and technology – I owe her the knowledge that was imbibed in me by my Alma Mater. She was the backbone of my personal and career growth; but then Tayuman taught me important lessons in life: how to live within my means, to distinguish the few things that matter most in life and cherish them, a self-awareness and discovery of who I really am- the things I do best and the things I love doing. Where Makati had been the birthplace of early personal accomplishments, Cabuyao was the sojourn to maturity and being a woman for others.  But as destiny would have it, the country became the inevitable home for our family and me.



This is the backyard. I was sitting under the Indian Mango tree when I saw a shooting star and started writing Metamorphosis circa 1994.



The covered garage where my old reclining wooden chair was stationed.
I used to watch the stars seated here.

The front yard used to be all soil and a wooden fence surrounding it.

And as I write this blog, I am actually back in the City. Again, the interplay, the pattern. So I guess now I can tell where I am headed next.

[1] My Hometown, May 5, 2002, Sta. Rosa, Laguna. I wrote this anecdote to commemorate our 15^th year in Rizal. We relocated to Tayuman May 17, 1987.

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