By The Aklan River
Note: I wrote this a month before Typhoon Frank devastated Aklan. Weird.
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One of the most awkward, difficult stages in my life was when I was 12 years old.
Those were the tween years when my boobs, legs and ass grew. Twas when I changed schools and said goodbye to most of my grade school friends. The time of my life when I witnessed the ultimate, sudden death of playing sipa and chase. That I cannot ride my bike anymore, which by the way I won first prize on Marianing Store Raffle 1985. Then there was some beer-smelling asshole knocking on our door with dying daisies on his hand. And all of a sudden I cannot, absolutely can’t, eat four sticks of banana cue while walking down C. Laserna.
Why???
Furious, depressed and confused, I always got out of the house. Walked and walked northbound from our backyard to bank of The Aklan River.
I was always welcomed by the river, the sight was oh so lush and majestic. I witnessed those fresh waters cascading down from the mountains of Libacao and Antique. I closed my eyes and felt the habagat wind gently blowing my hair and kissing my neck.
In the afternoons of low tide, I either waded in those cool waters barefooted or borrowed a bamboo raft to cross the river. But the best part was looking west and watching the sun go down in blazing orange and red light. I was on an unbelievable enchanted spot.
Sometimes I brought my fishing pole along with an unfortunate earthworm. Sometimes I had bag, so after the walk to the river, I can swing by and bring home some wild guavas, raw mangoes or singkamas that was left-over from last harvest. But most of the time I just went empty-handed, sat down under a tree and tried to resurrect my falling self-esteem.
I eventually overcame those troublesome teen-age years. I stood chest up, stuck my butt out and exposed those forbidden legs. I enjoyed high school to the fullest and made wonderful friends. While I cannot play my childhood games anymore, I found more exciting, teen-appropriate past time activities. Ask my friends and everyone remembered that I frequently orchestrated the class-wide, ever popular but banned Spirit of the Glass, with Andres Bonifacio (always, for some odd reason) as the gracious returning ghost.
I cannot wait to go back home and pay tribute to the River Gods. When I needed to be consoled, Aklan River was there, silently giving me strength when I was at my lowest.
June 8th, 2008 at 11:18 am
And that freaking Spirit of the Glass nearly cost our asses! Hahaha… Damn, I can still remember how everyone jumped from your ‘payag’ during the creepy/wacky ritual just because the ’spirit’ who supposedly entered the glass was a classmate who was sleeping somewhere! I prayed to nearly all known saints that time.. seriously! Now, looking back.. we were really crazy for gathering and doing something like that in the hope of talking to Jose Rizal. That was really hard-core comedy!
September 17th, 2008 at 4:27 am
The Aklan River indeed is such a giver of unforgettable childhood memories. Like I nearly drowned one time. (That is why I don’t know how to swim until now.) Like if I wanna throw away bad memories of other people, the River would embrace me like a nurturing mother. (That is why all her photographs and letters and dried roses are now gone.) Oh I miss my Aklan River…
December 16th, 2008 at 7:51 pm
Kristen Told Me About Your Site, NICE!
December 17th, 2008 at 1:11 am
You Really did it Jacob :-PP
June 22nd, 2009 at 8:37 pm
After Frank, perhaps the weirdest part is when people like you and me remember that the Aklan River has molded our strongest foundation as children. The ability to survive. The inability to hold on. For what its worth, the Aklan River will always be embedded in our hearts and minds.
Che, in memory of Frank, we thank you for being JUST THERE. Being the heroine amidst hopelessness and despair. After a year, full recovery may not be at hand, but we survived!
Lab ya, sis.