Ang Dabawenyo

I live in a compound that sits right beside the Ateneo de Davao High School campus. I’m up early for my flight to Manila — actually, I’ve been up for an hour already. From last night till this early morning, I’d been hearing rambunctious noises over at the campus. Kids. Must’ve spent the night there for a school activity.

If my folks could’ve heard them, they would’ve thrown a fit. My folks, I mean. But I didn’t mind. Hearing them chat and hoot and guffaw and go about their antics made me recollect my own time in high school (which wasn’t all that long ago… or so I try to convince myself).

Some years ago, one of the students threw a plastic bag over our common wall and into our backyard. We thought it was trash, but something was moving inside! It was a cat, the poor thing. My sister, who was still living with us that time, was so furious. But I was secretly amused. Kids.

I never did anything like that back in high school, although I had my share of pranks here and there. I was the one who covered for my more mischievous friends. Although on rare occasions I did turn them in, just for good measure of credibility with the powers that were.

And even then, we were already living beside the same campus. (And we were often late!) That means I’ve been living here for… well, some considerable time now.

In my teens, Matina used to be an idyllic location, with large swaths of unused residential lands, a few shops in some street corners, and not much else. Just houses mostly. But now, it has become a bustling neighborhood, and has almost turned into a commercial district. A number of houses have been turned into restaurants and stores now, especially those near St. Paul Parish.

And the high school and grade school — boy! — they’re overflowing to the brim! Back then, we were only five sections of 30-40 students each. Now, they say the first-year level has 20+ sections with at least 40 students in each! And you can hear they’re that many. (Is it because Davao’s population has ballooned that much? Or is this a sign of commercialism in education…?)

Some of my relatives in the compound are musing about moving out and selling… but it can’t be done unless all of us agree. You see, it’s a walled property with eleven lots, and I guess the value of each won’t amount to much unless they’re all disposed of together. Besides, it would be rather strange to have non-relatives living (or operating a shop or something) in the compound with us.

It would be sad if we moved out, after almost two decades here (that’s an aggregate number for all my relatives here, so don’t try guessing my age! hehehe). But then, this place is so huge! Thing is, I don’t think we’ll ever agree as one on this issue. Also, one of my aunts is only now having her house built. So that’s that.

Like I said, I don’t really mind the noise. Hearing those kids on the other side of the wall keeps me feeling young.

Oh boy… is this what they call emo blogging??