things familiar and not anymore

dinner conversation at our house in bacolod, one balmy night, centered on how certain things in our sagay childhood in the 60s, 70s and onwards interestingly came in twos. several of these “pairs” were within the block where we grew up, and almost always across each other. 

at the two corners along the national highway, where commuters got on or off the buses from bacolod and/or san carlos, were the two main restaurants -  salbel’s and blue dahlia.  a few steps down, on both sides of the corner of the road to barrio bato, were the two grocery cum snack shops and dry goods stores of mrs. pulido and tia felicing. felicing was our mother-side lola, whom we also called nanay, thus we’ve always been known as the ” apo ni felicing” - never mind whether they were referring either to nancy or to joy.

across felicing’s store was wong ling’s bakery with shelves of ensaimada,  atay-atay, “double body” and ” pampam” breads.  across mrs. pulido’s was ah teng and ah tse - kindly middle-aged couple from Amoy, China - who made the loveliest hot pan de sal, pandeciosa, and pancho breads that we loved to dunk in freshly brewed coffee or ice-cold coke (tia purit pacheo preferred pepsi, duh!) , to eat with the steaming hot batchoy of tia diding fernandez, or bring to school as baon with cheese or egg filling or mabuti sardines (real portuguese ones) when nanay felt particularly generous .  

further into the main street, when one reached the market (bloke), turning left past the bilyaran and the gonzagas was and still is sagay east (later jose b. puey) elementary school.  here my sister and i were  tutored by rigorous miss aguilar on reading and writing before we formally entered school and before speech labs came into vogue. miss aguilar insisted that we say “my neymzz”  instead of ” my name is.”  sagay east’s ” ersatz rival “  was sagay west ( now dona maria lopez) elementary school.  

negros occidental, being the prime sugar producer in the country, had about seven of the twenty-one (i think) sugar mills that were then operating nation-wide. two of these were in sagay - sagay central (aka central bato) and central lopez - each of which had their own hospitals, the alfredo maranon and LODIFI (aka Foundation).  

from the 70s thereon, sagay’s transformation from a second class municipality into a city was more than ably  led and guided by  the two maranon brothers - tito nonoy (aka nonoy recto or nonoy joseph or 319) and tito freddie (aka toto freddie or 02). 

all these that were familiar and warm have metamorphosed into new structures and facades or are no longer there. almost all of the proverbial faces in these “pairs”  have been long dead and gone, recently joined by  tito nonoy.  tito freddie remains steadfastly running the ship as the city mayor from the house that lolo pidong and lola vacing built, which together with  rizal’s statue at the plaza  and lolo totong’s house as they still stand,are about the only remaining reminders of my  childhood.  

now i am grappling how to end this post as memories and images rush to flood my senses. waxing nostalgic but utterly failing in waxing lyrical.

and i haven’t even touched yet the mercado, the church, sagay high school which recently held its diamond anniversary, the plaza, the boticas (drugstores) of tio ando and tia lucing, juni’s comics’  stand, the arozeras of tio simo salangsang and tio aniano a few feet from each other, rama theatre with its megaphones blaring out the dialogue from inside ( to the delight of those who didnt have 50 centavos to spare for entertainment). the cinehan later became nancy, then joy theatre when papa bought the creaky smelly structuctre …..etc etc etc..

sagay —  then a small town, now a small city. founded more than a century ago under the name Arguelles and whose icon is the “sigay”  shell.  many of us sagaynons have flown far and away. some may not go back literaly. for many of us still, it is the tree kept in our hearts where we come home to roost. 

i am opening up  a sagay folder to be filled-in by tales and whatnots, alongside my folders of development activism and mongolian adventure ….  that toto bien and nancy’s kids borge and felice, and the generations after us, may know how it was when we were growing up in Sagay, to help keep their sense of rootedness pulsatingly strong.