Makin' My Way Downtown

An experience I will never forget.

I’ve been living in the South for more than 2 years already, however, it was only about 2 days ago that I tried to discover what it was like to hang out with my neighbors. When I was a kid, I was never permitted to go out of the house, not unless I was with my yaya, or lola, or my kababata, Danielle.

For Christ’s sake, I even wore leggings and full gear (knee and elbow pads plus that fuckin’ green helmet) when I rode my bike, was never allowed to eat processed meat such as hotdogs and tocino, and was prohibited to watch tagalog films not ‘til High School. I was taught never to talk to anyone except people I knew. Unfortunately, I kind of carried the latter attitude now that I am already 22. I am an only child so you get the gist.

And so, I grew up loving silence. Truth be told, I prefer silence over rowdy crowds. I find myself attached to the kind of reality I got used to when my surroundings go shush. I hate noisy kids because I never grew up in an environment where there were kids younger than me. Being an only child, and the youngest among the 1st degree Muyco cousins, I was the baby.

So I find myself crying all the time whenever someone I got really attached to, leaves. I was constrained when I was a kid, and so whenever I meet someone new, I put down all my walls and trust that person with all my heart—just like what kids do.

When mom left for the States, I had mixed emotions bottling within me. A part of me wanted to scream, “Eureka! Freedom at last!”, however, it was as if my umbilical cord to life was detached as well. I’m not as strong as my mother, that I have to admit. She can put up a fight with anyone, for all she cares, as long as she’s right, and on the other hand, I was the diplomatic type. If things can be settled in a harmonious way, then I’m up for it. That was the reason why we always fought before. She would always say, “Anak, you should have…”, then I would always rebut with a “well, the issue has been settled, so let’s get over it mom”.

Then an awesome awesome debate of “what ifs” comes next.

Back to the topic. What was I saying? Oh yes, there. So it was only about 2 days ago that I started to feel the neighborhood. I drank Cobra at Lola tindahan’s place (I forgot her name), and then a group of kasam-bahays where there as well, making their usual afternoon chitchat.

I joined them. They had a pretty different kind of humor, really. They laugh at just about anything. It was an awesome experience for me. They had a lot of stories to tell, stories that I never knew existed. All of them were so true to themselves, and it was as if I saw myself in them, since they all trusted me so easily to hear them out.

I was glad I got out of my house and joined them that day. It was then I was able to prove the proverb, that sometimes, those who laugh a lot are the ones who are sad within.