Help me find my childhood friends
April 10th, 2007 by yenglaureano
We used to call ourselves the Rizal Girls. No, I am not referring to a gang organized by some delinquent juvenile. We were called so because we lived in Rizal Extension, a place which once was a part of the center of
Davao City , Philippines . We lived in one big two-storey house, typical of a poor Filipino family where the owner of the house dwelled on the second floor, while the first floor was divided by walls and was occupied by the renters.
The owner of the house was an old man, a retired high school teacher and we called him “Sir”. He was a widower and a bachelor son and her four grandchildren lived with him. Their parents were away for some political missions. The household had three housemaids. A wall separating them to another house, but there was an adjoining door where one could pass by from his home to another which was occupied by his daughter and her family. She had three children.
Below was our simple and very small yet decent home. It was one of the four partitions that we renters occupied. We shared the same bathroom and dirty kitchen. We didn’t have potable water yet, but the owner of the house has provided water which source came from underground and was operated by electricity. We just asked them to switch on electricity whenever we ran out of the water.
Poverty has stricken us but it has never tarnished the happy memories I had with my childhood friends. In fact, I could really say that I have very colorful and fond memories of those years and still I kept dreaming about them and the old place.
Though we were separated by walls and floors, yet our social status never became a hindrance to our friendship. We were one family and the pain of one family became the pain of all other occupants and that included the families upstairs.
The friendship that we had was securely bonded since we shared a lot of things. We shared more than bathrooms and kitchens, we dreamed together, we cried together, we laughed together and we were also witnesses when each of us girls transformed from children to adolescents.
Commercialism robbed us out of this friendship. We were informed one day that we had to look for another place since this house would be turned to a business establishment. Most of us have just barely graduated from high school and the thought of losing one another was quite dreading. I was completely attached to these friends and to be separated from them was definitely something that I could not live with. For days, we snuggled close and there were times that we would want to turn back the clock and become children once again.
Then another hard blow came, my closest friend, Bek-Bek together with her brother was asked to visit a country somewhere in
Europe . She told us that they would only be gone for two weeks, but they never did. She came back five years later. She has already changed citizenship but she told me that it was only in the papers. She is still a Filipino by heart.
Some of my friends are still living in the city. Some are already married while others are still seeking for their future. I have lost contact with them since I already live in the suburbs with my family. I visit downtown most of the weekends but I never had the chance to cross paths with them.
Oh I would like to hear once again the husky voice of Dory and the out-of-this world jokes of Neneng and maybe see the smile of Tina and want to know the smart opinions of her younger sister, Jenny. I would be forever envious of the gorgeous body of Lala. Maybe I could get the next starring role of the script that Marichu have written for us. Amy and Annabelle might want to take us to their grandmother’s home. Bek-Bek and Neneng have one thing in common; they both have their admiration for Mark O. But, they didn’t know that I secretly liked him, too.
The only connection that I have from my childhood is my cousin Chin, though we barely see each other but once we do we always end up talking about our childhood friends althoug we never intended to in the first place
. I have tried searching for Bek-Bek’s name in the Internet, but my search was futile. I tried to send a message to Dory’s number but I received no reply.
Every time I passed by that street, I could not help but paint a smile on my lips and hope that a familiar face will pop out and send me the same feelings once again – the feelings of security of that childhood friendship.
