Saturday, January 07, 2006

nineteen minutes

I was running my usual errand for ma to the bank, but today it was a different bank. I was supposed to encash the check given to her, and it was at Banco de Oro.

The teller at the middle moved quickly and she was able to assist me, asked me to take a seat and wait. She looked somehow familiar. I think she knows me too because she would glance at me. Was she an old busmate? She looked like her, but I kept it to myself because what if she is not. Maybe she was the one who lives in La Loma (and still does, I mean Mayon Branch is near) at Iba, was that the name of the street?

When I came to her again, she asked, “Sienan (referring to an old school) ka no?” I said yes; and she asked “96?” No, she was older than I am. Liezel (Gamboa) is friendly she even asked me to open an account.

I remember the SV Paredes service, our bus. People were hysterical shouting either Caloocan or La Loma. And because I live at Caloocan I would scream for Caloocan, not knowing that it was the Caloocan people yelling for La Loma because they wanted the latter to be brought home first.

When I was little we used to live in the old house, now only occupied by the help. Its actually like a family home for its where most of us grew up. We believed that it is haunted (when I was little I think I even saw a ghost, probably because it is dark. It’s a great place where we always place hide and seek especially during brownouts. And there was this big plant box in the driveway where Jero and I used to dig up worms and let them go through our own silly maze.

Come to think of it, I was a homebody growing up. I spent most of the time with the household help. The song 25 minutes (too late, yea), would play over the radio while I was waiting for the maid to finish. I think we were going to watch ‘Anna Luna’(tama ba spelling?) and Maria Clara. I also had a playmate, Denise, our neighbor and Lucy, who was living with us.

All I can recall of Denise is yellow bells, bougianvillas, the piano and her grandmother who still lives next door. With Lucy, we were making up stories, I was eating paper and I was making her send a letter. Lucy had to move with her mother, the greatest cook in the world to Tarlac because my grandparents were retiring there.

Just a bit and a part of my childhood….I’m 19 na!!!

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