Little Moments That Make Home

7 min read

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Pagbibigyan na lang silang
Magkandarapa na manligaw sayo
Idadaan na lang kita sa awitin kong ito
Sabay ang tugtog ng gitara

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Parokya ni Edgar’s Gitara played on the car stereo as we drove through the winding roads of Bohol. It was from a Spotify playlist curated by my cousins who are on average 10 years my junior. I hadn’t heard the song in a long time but the lyrics came to me as easily as breathing. It’s the music of my teenage years. We all happily sang along but I couldn’t help but wonder how my cousins knew the song by heart too, them being practically Gen Z.

“Bal-an nyo lagi lyrics sini?” I inquired with amusement.

Apparently, it’s because back then I wouldn’t leave the house until I finish watching the now defunct MYX’s daily top 10 on Studio 23 even at the risk of getting to class late. As I lived with them all four years of high school, they probably didn’t have much choice but to sit through the same ordeal every day at breakfast. It was quite uncanny to realize that my taste in music, among other things I considered trivial, has had a profound influence on my little cousins. A piece of me that will always have its home in them.

Whilst in Bohol, we were on a mission to track down some relatives on the insistent prodding of my grandmother. I had always known we trace our roots in Bohol and have heard the town names of Maribojoc and Sevilla mentioned in past conversations, places where our ancestors supposedly came from. While my ancestors emigrated in search of better, greener pastures and have resettled in Lanao Del Norte, some relatives remained. How our family came to settle in South Cotabato is a story for another day.

Armed with the scarce information my grandmother gave us – that our relatives live next to the barangay hall in Agahay, we found them by merely asking around. Of course Google maps was instrumental to getting us there. Perhaps owing to the hospitality born out of trust characteristic of small barrios, we were welcomed by our relatives into their home with the warmth of long lost family. We were long lost family after all. There was an exchange of contacts and talk of a family reunion in the future. My grandmother was beyond ecstatic at the news of our meeting. It felt like a homecoming.

Tita Lucille and Tito Bing drove me to the ferry terminal in Tagbilaran early morning day after Christmas. I took the first ferry to Cebu. I was to head home to Marbel for the remainder of year 2023. By mid-noon, my flight has landed from Mactan. Tita Wen and Tito Noy picked me up from the airport in Gensan. I think people going out of their way to drop you off where you need to be or pick you up from somewhere is such a show of love. At home, my grandmother had been waiting for me to arrive so she could feed me native chicken tinola and adobo. It was exactly what I needed after a long journey home.

Day after I arrived, I needed to run some errands in town. I’m not usually the most confident driver as I do not often get to drive so if I had it my way, I would rather be driven around. I think the TikTok jargon used these days is to be a “passenger princess”. But I had no driver so I was left with limited choice. I backed my grandparents’ old red Toyota Innova manual transmission car out of the driveway and proceeded cautiously. Over the next few days, I came to enjoy taking myself to places in town as it was especially convenient when meeting old friends. I still park as far away from other vehicles as possible but I don’t think my driving is as terrible as I thought it to be.

My hometown has changed so much over the years, for one traffic is much worse when this was virtually non-existent when I was growing up. Maybe that’s the price we pay for progress. But despite the changes, the familiarity and charm of the old town I grew up in remain and it will always be home no matter what.

“Merry Christmas Dai! Diin ka?” said a text from Ella in response to a story I posted of Alona beach in Panglao.

It was really just a prelude to a planned dinner gathering several days later as I make it a point to invite my friends to catch up when I’m home and I feel grateful each time they acquiesce. My friends lead busy lives and for them to carve time out for me is something I hold dear. Ella runs a private occupational therapy practice while Je-ann and Kuya Borj run successful businesses separately with their partners. My friend KC who saw a story I posted of the said dinner asked if I wanted to go for a run at the track oval. While the invitation came last minute, I didn’t want to pass up on the chance to use my province’s rubberized track as well as catch up with a friend. We did an easy conversational pace 6km run where he managed to keep me abreast of the goings-on in his life. I was both surprised and delighted at his news. Since he has been running, I tried to convince him to run a full marathon with me later this year. I think he may be considering.

A day later, I met up with my friends from school, some of them I’ve known since I was six or seven and hadn’t seen in years. We rented a VIP room with karaoke at a local restaurant but the karaoke was rendered useless because we only talked loudly and laughed boisterously non-stop. A group of thirty-something mostly licensed professionals comprised of at least three doctors, few nurses, a teacher, an engineer, an accountant, business professionals and one taking a second degree to become an architect and our main topic of the evening was strangulation in the context of sexual pleasure. One of my doctor friends and proponent of the act was keen to demonstrate for safety. I shall not name him to spare him from reputational damage. Lol. Funny enough, our company accidentally gatecrashed a private party where JK Labajo, the famous singer, was the guest of honor. We were politely ushered out so we ended up at a club (a club in Marbel! progress!) where drinks flowed and inhibitions came undone. We thought it prudent to drop by Dunkin Donuts to have munchkins and coffee before calling it a night. I reached home at 4am. No I was not drunk. I intentionally avoided the tequila shots headed my way but I think some of my friends regretted their decisions that evening. “Kapi kapi na lang ta next time pls” said one.

On the eve of the new year, my grandma requested my cousin Ck to drive her around town. They were allowed some time off their clerkship duties for new year celebrations so she drove home from Davao. Finally a passenger princess, I sat comfortably as she steered her truck slowly and carefully, much to my grandmother’s liking. We visited my late grandfather’s grave and stopped for drinks at a well-known coffee shop. Later that evening, my cousin Jef made the eight hour drive all the way from Surigao to greet the new year with my grandmother. We had a family lunch at home on new year’s day. My cousins and I drank a bottle of brandy on the night before all of us were to skedaddle back to our own little lives, much to my grandmother’s chagrin. “Husto na na, pangatulog na mo kay sayo pa mo ugma”. “Yes, La.” We chorused.

I was home for the holidays for the first time in a decade. I forgot how wondrous it is to be surrounded by people who never fail to make me feel home. It makes me wistful. Happy New Year to one and all.