Growing Up as a "Gadi" and a "Guino-o"

I can still vividly remember when my mom brought us here in the "Land of Promise" with a disguise of spending summer vacation here. We were trapped and never went back to school in the Capital since then. That was '87. The time when Manila was so hediously unlivable. With the street protests and rallies we were witnessing, the "NO CLASS" declarations of my former University, kids being forced to wear the yellow ties and ribbons; singing the song of "Magkaisa", Manila was definitely not a place to raise kids.

There was a lot of drama. A lot of tension. A lot of confusion. A lot of unpredictable events.

We'll all just turn out to be "highly politicized".

Growing up from a family that stands at the side of the opposition, we were raised by my aunt Rita (our dad's older sister) by living the legacy of the true -- the good -- and the beautiful. We were brought up to oppose and to stand to what our elders believe. A kind of confidence where only "loyalists" can comprehend. Our family were good friends with the most powerful family that time until now. Of course we were there waving flags of the "RED WHITE & BLUE" and posting stickers in our bags with the "I heart Marcos" while most wave and decorate themselves with the "yellow ribbons, laces, shirts...name it! they tried to paint Manila yellow. It was fun but, I didn't understand why everyone was really banging each other. If you were 7 years old then, what would you think? I guess...you'd practically be just happy 'coz there ain't no school and more playtime.

Anyways, I'm left thinking now..."What if I grew up in Manila? What would I be now?"

Until now, I don't know why our mom personally brought us here. Maybe because she misses the life "down south" as what I am experiencing whenever I'm back in the capital or simply to be in control over her kids? I really don't know but I'm thankful. Though we usually had our usual summer vacations in White Plains in our Aunt Rita's house and be with our "lolo and lola" for the whole summer was simply our dream come true as kids lost in translation down South. I remember being dumbfound with the dialect here. I remember wayback in the old Ateneo Davao Grade School building classmates telling me, "kana siya oh, hawod kaayo!" demmit! WTF is that?! But, I soon understood through my Uncle Boy's (my mom's younger brother) local kids, Ate Catherine and Genevieve would always say the meaning. They were gracious enough to teach us 4 -- especially me! "Ang kulit ko kaya!"

I grew up here being proud born in Manila (status quo/"yabang" per se)...not until when I finally gained "mature consciousness". Though I can't deny it because the certificate prooves my point of origin, I'm still Dabawenyo by heart. Davao taught me alot. To live life and learn without any rush. To be simple. To appreciate the "overgrown barrio" life. To love the dialect and mix it with the Tagalog accent. To use "gani", "naga-", "lingaw", etc. hehehehe... DAVAO IS DEFINITELY PERFECT! The beach is just 15 minutes away, the grass is greener, the air is cleaner and the smell is sweeter! What else can I ask for? Though Davao also has its own hang-ups...what the heck?! It cannot outweigh the good memories I have in this place.

This is where I have established myself. This is where I truly belong.

Whenever me and my siblings usually talk about it, we would practically end up saying life is BETTER in this side of the country. And if I were to ask myself again who I have become if I grew up in Manila -- I'd rather not know. I love livin' down south!