That’s the home I grew up in. I often romanticize how this shack came to be. I’d like to think Tatay lovingly built it by hand. How Nanay must have asked him to add one more room and another year after year.

I was used to sleeping on the floor. First where the sala was. Then next to my sisters’ papag. Then next to Nanay’s room. I didn’t really have a bed of my own until I went to University. But I did graduate from floor to papag to cushioned bed by the time I entered high school.

Our first pieces of furnitures were a mixture of hand-me-downs and DYI. An old office table was used for dining. Tatay made two long chairs that aren’t really benches. We had an old black-and-white television which occupied half of the living room because of the size of its wooden casing. We ram it with our fists to get better reception.

The routine was simple growing up. Each of us had a chore and since I was the youngest, I have the “easiest” tasks. I wax the floor and buff it with cloth and bunot (coconut husk). I swear that’s the reason why my calves are pamalo ng palos in size. I was on “morning duty” too. That meant boiling water, buying pandesal and butter, fetching water from our poso and filling our water jars. From memory our drinking water was cool and sweet but I don’t think I’ll dare drink poso water now, even if it comes from the cleanest tapayan.

Before the television, my nights were filled with taguang-pung with my friends. Sometimes we’d be lucky and there would be fireflies to catch and trap in jars. Often Nanay would let me listen to radio programs until I fall asleep. Actually sometimes it stops me from getting any, I’d listen to Gabi ng Lagim and that’s it no more sleeping, or peeing for that matter.

When Tatay went abroad, we acquired some better furniture. A coloured TV, a refrigerator, a sala set, a better made dining table, a tokador. All these, you might be suprised to know, still functioned right up until I started working.

I was very happy growing up in this house. There’s always an adventure waiting around the corner. Perhaps among the banana trees on the right side, in the silong along the water, or around the aratiles tree and guava tree where I used to feed our chicken and ducks.

We never ran out of guests. The house would be full to bursting during fiesta or Christmas. We’d have relatives from all over stay days or weeks. We’d have neighbours asking for “isang pirasong kamatis” or to watch a TV program. It was never a lonely place.

We didn’t have ovens, betamax or fancy rugs on our floors. I didn’t have access to books or fairy tales read at bedtime.

In lieu of those, this was the place where as a 5-year old we’d sell iced candies and homemade snacks to the NIA workers. We’d huddle outside at dawn to catch the first ray of the sun. We’d play with the smoke coming out our mouths during the cold season. We’d have fireworks contest with those across the pond during New Year’s Eve. We’d make homemade sungkit to gather the sweet saresa fruits or pull down bunches of bananas.

Instead of learning about the separation of society, the divide between the rich and the poor, I only knew about happiness. It was pure innocent bliss. I’m so proud of Nanay and Tatay and how they managed to keep us going. I’m especially proud of Nanay for all her patience and perseverance.

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