In this troubled and anxieties-filled world, we need some little space, a small corner, be it physical or imaginary, to smell the scent of roses, breathe fresh air and be with all ourselves, not minding life’s cares.
We need this kind of meditation, some soul searching to re-connect those little dots that bombard our minds,
If I want some peace of mind, I conjure up the image of the scenic place of Pasong Tamo in the Philippines.
In the 60s, it had an abundance of greens, wild grasses, rice fields, and wide open spaces, surrounded by its natural beauty—tall trees, a small river running with clean, fresh water, and teeming with fish.
This place is where I grew up in my teenage years.
It had a countryside atmosphere, although it’s within Quezon City proper.
When my magazine company, where I used to work before, had been closed down because of Martial law, I found myself jobless and idling around Pasong Tamo with nothing else to do except walk the neighbourhood, meeting friends, helping my mother do her household chores, or simply reading in the middle of the ricefield or under a tree.
One of the wonders of this place was the blooming of “Kakawate trees,” like those of Japan’s Cherry Blossoms that lined the small streets there. My favourite road there was Macaya Street, the path full of kakawate trees; one time, I saw some women gathering some medicinal plants there, which they usually would take to Quiapo, a place in Manila which was well known for selling medicinal plants and barks of trees.
One could bear the sun’s heat, especially during the summer, by simply staying under the shade of trees. The folks here were primarily farmers, handypersons, store owners, and employees of some private and gov’t offices.
In this place, I found one of the most challenging jobs: digging the ground made of adobe stone to construct a septic tank for the sewer. I had only one thing in mind seeing that kind of job—I had to study hard and survive life’s hardships.
By 6 in the evening, it was all quiet in the neighbourhood; the only thing visible there was the Coleman lighting some houses, and the rest used the home-made,gas-fed “gasera:” The sounds of the roosters were enough to wake up the people in the morning, no need for the alarm clock.
Teens played softball or volleyball in the vast rice fields. Some teens were fond of doing “pamamansing,” catching the edible “palakang bukid” (ricefield frog)
O before I forget, when you are in a place as provincial as Pasong Tamo without enough transport vehicles to carry people to different destinations, most of the time, we walk; when people ask how far the place they intend to go, the phrase ” dyan lang” ( it’s just there) meant a few more kilometres away.
The primary mode of transport was the so-called ” auto-calesa,” which could accommodate only five passengers, four at the back and one sitting near the driver. So, those “manluluwas” were store owners who would buy some stuff for their stocks elsewhere and stay in one place as one group, waiting for the arrival of this small jeep.
Another beauty of this place is the rendering of due respect to people by addressing members of the family according to their age– Kuya, the eldest brother in the family, the eldest sister (Ate), second to the eldest brother (diko), second to the most senior, a sister(Ditse).
Fast forward to 2018, the last time I visited Pasong Tamo, I was shocked to see a different place—a Pasong Tamo teeming with people, no more spacious roads, no more greens: plants, trees, and most houses were concrete.
I felt suffocated because of the lack of space to move around. There are so many vehicles, tricycles, motorcycles, narrow roads, and dirty creeks where most households’ sewage finds its way into the river.
Even the oldtimers’ words like diko, ditse, sanse, and .mamansing are slowly disappearing.
Well, that is the outcome of what we call urban development– the increasing population, the need for more spaces for housing, the lack of urban development plans like zoning, and, of course, the influx of informal settlers, people coming from different places in Metro Manila deciding to settle there.
Despite what happened to Pasong Tamo, its beauty will remain intact in my heart and mind, and when the time comes for me to reflect on some beautiful things in life, My Beloved Pasong Tamo will come in handy.
