Bratinellis

"I'm sleeping here"

"What do you want?"

"MINE!!"

"I want, I want, I WANT!!!"

"Stop bugging me"

"You're mean."

"BYE!"

A Day in CCP with Mama

Mama used to sit in front of Ms. Acsay's desk whenever she was in CCP with Papa.

Papa would be in his office, the old one, where in the forefront there was a very large wooden board room table for meetings, the back part having two desks situated on opposite sides. One of the desks was Papa's and the other, Atty. San Juan's. The desks which were separated by a beige-yellow sala set where we would usually hang out when we were there.

Mama, on the other hand, usually stayed outside, beside Papa's office door, sitting in front of Ms. Acsay's desk.

ALL DAY LONG.

She would have a piece of spare paper, not new, just some old and used paper she could use over, and she would scribble on it day after day.

When I was younger, I used to think she was just bored and that she must be making up math problems for herself...you know, because she loved math and was always proud of her mathematics gold medal from UP. I thought she would do math to keep herself in tip top shape.

I was also always afraid to approach her because I figured if she saw me, she'd stop making math problems for herself and instead, would make up math problems for me and make me do them. (She actually did this once so I had past experience to rely on)

Because of this, I used to make sure that I never pass though the door to Papa's office that Mama guarded. There were other means of getting out. Usually through the conference room (especially when lit up. Otherwise, it was completely dark and you either had to gather your courage, or just stay in the office until you can persuade someone to turn on the lights on.)

A lot of times, I would pass that way, bypassing most of the front office. I still had to pass through a bit of the office to get outside since the entrance to the conference room was near the very front of the office, but I could walk straight through to the entrance door without much of a problem...I first just had to make sure mama wasn't looking... and of course, I had to walk very fast.

You couldn't run because she would look up from the ruckus, and you had to time it so that no one was blocking your way to the door. You had to move fast so that if you get spotted, you would already be out the door before she calls your name.

When we were bored, we would stay around the boardroom playing on the piano, standing on the stage, playing soldier-boy with the flag, pretend making speeches in the podium, or we would go and look at all the weird things in the bathroom...

I remember that the girls' bathroom had this strange sink. When you turned the handle, water would flow through the faucet, but the moment you took your hand from the handle, the flow of water stops. You either had to wash your hands one hand at a time, or you had to have someone in the bathroom with you to keep the tap water going. Someone told me once that Mama might have had that done intentionally to save on water. Weird.

We could fiddle around with the mimeographing machine that was there, I used to take home the styrofoam packaging of the mimeo ink. They worked very well since they self sealed and were waterproof and could be kept in the "clubhouse" safely.

I learned how to separate pieces of paper there too. Maring taught me how. She would either make circles on a large package of bond paper, thereby slowly moving each piece of paper clockwise so all together, it made a large star shape, or she would take the pieces of paper and twist the sides to and fro so that the pieces of paper were forced up. then she would tap everything together. She used to do this so that the machine would not pull more than one piece of paper at a time thus preventing jamming up the mimeo machine.

There also was a rather old and slightly dingy plastic comb right by the bathroom door. No one knew whose it was but everyone used it on the way out ... peering into a small round native straw framed mirror on the wall while they were at it.

The bathroom was a bit creepy too. A lot of reports said that there would be occasional ghosts spotted or heard weeping there when you're caught alone in it. Everyone said so. You either had to pee and wash your hands very quickly, or ask someone to accompany you.

One time, just to scare Eric, I sprayed a bit of water over the wall from the girls room to the boy's room (the wall did not extend up to the very top; there was a foot and a half gap there.) The problem was, I couldn’t contain my laughter for very long. I freaked him out by landing a few drops on him very silently, then as soon as he tremulously asked "I-i-is anyone there?" I could only wait a few more seconds before I started laughing hysterically.

We could also spy on Mama this way. We would peek through the side door to the bathroom to see if she left her seat. There was siesta time then. Mama, Ms. Acsay, and Mrs. Lacson would all go to the boardroom in the afternoon, line up a few of those red chairs they used to have, and sleep on them for an hour or so after lunch. Then we were free to go out, walk about the front office, and talk with the staff.

Sometimes, we'd bother Tito Ellis in his office, or hang around the Cashier's office. We used to "help" count the money, enroll students, stamp of the receipts and our favorite activity, ask Violet to take out those few counterfeit bills she was able to catch and try to guess which bills were fake and which weren't.

Whatever we were doing though. Mama usually would be there, in her seat, scribbling.

Here's one of the few scraps I found a few months ago. You try and decipher what she was thinking.

@?&%#

I said my first curse word when I was around three.

I was on the bed in our bedroom in Buencamino. Dad was sitting on the edge near the bottom of the bed and Mom was seated near the head of the bed, her back resting on the headboard.

They were watching a basketball game.

Mom was for Crispa, and Dad was for Toyota. They watched as the players tossed the ball back and forth running towards either basket.

The Toyota-Crispa games were very big in those days.

Now Dad has a favorite curse word. All of you who know him know what it is. Those who don’t, here’s a clue it starts with a P and ends in “ina”.

Dad kept yelling this word out loud during climactic moments of the game.

I sat down and decided to see what all the hullabaloo was about. I watched the game a little bit, and at one point, when Mom was yelling at her team to shoot the ball, just as it was thrown at the net and missed, I yelled out

P------Ina!!!!!

Dad and Mom looked at me and started yelling that "that"`word was a bad word and should never, ever, be said.

Now, of course, this was incredibly unfair…after all, when all the yelling at me stopped, they went back to watching the game...as it went on, Dad would blurt out the " bad" word over and over again

But you know parents…”Don’t do what I do, do what I say.” In other words...

“Because I said so…”

So, being who I was even then, I thought that what had happened was distinctly unjust.

I decided to call someone to make “sumbong”

So I called on the one person who I knew had some level of authority.

(That I could come to without fear of course)

I went up to the head of the bed, on Mom’s side table, where our old beige telephone was.

I dialed this number….79-74-87

I find it funny that I still remember that number. It hasn’t been used in years and years.

Someone picked up the phone and I started crying.

“Tita Virgie…si mommy pinagalitan ako……”

Mom’s eldest sister.

I remember passing the phone to mom and I think she talked to Tita Virgie a bit and then talked to dad.

Nothing happened but I still remember making the call.

Yeah yeah, I know, bratty.

I was three…sue me.

A few years later, Jo Ann remembers the one time dad spanked us. We were arguing
(which was not unusual) but we were yelling at each other through the hole where the aircon usually was. (I think it was getting cleaned or fixed or something)

She was inside and I was outside, and seeing that we were separated by a huge wall
(and therefore we couldn’t reach out and pull each others hair like we usually would)

I cursed at her and she cursed right back.

(Since we only knew one curse word, that one that we heard over and over again, we yelled that at each other.)

The problem was, was that Dad was in the same room with her and heard her yell out P-----Ina!!

He spanked her, and she cryingly told him “ Eh bakit si Leslie…”

So he called me in and spanked me too.

I don’t remember this so I guess it wasn’t very painful.

It didn’t stop us though.

Dad still says it at the drop of a hat.

I do too, especially when I get frustrated or something...like when I lose a game.

Oh well…

Remember me saying how we don‘t look alike?

I never said we didn’t act alike.

Just look at these…

Funny.

Pizza

Pizza Party

It used to only be 3M. the tiny crusty doughy pizza sold on supermarket corners all over. The booth had dozens of boxes of pre prepared pizza, a woman standing by and a small hot plated oven to reheat your orders.

The pizza itself was crusty and doughy, covered by a ketchup-y sweet tomato sauce, large shreds of cheese and one teeny square piece of cooked ham near the center.

We loved those pizzas.

Shakey's came a few years after. You either had to go there to eat, or have someone pass by to order take out.

I remember that everyone used to call it shake-y-s but Mama and Papa insisted that it was pronounced shock-ees.

I don’t know why.

When you do go there to eat, as you enter, you could smell the distinctive smell of the restaurant…all smoky and spicy.

There you could sit near the counter where you could watch them make the individual pizzas, which were all thin and crisp.

This was such a novelty that most kids left their hand and cheek prints on the glass divider in an effort to try to see more.

There was a small stage in every restaurant too. They would show cartoons and Charlie Chaplin movies. Not all the time, but we would catch it every so often. I think sometimes, they even had small bands playing there too.

On birthday parties, we would order a couple of pizzas, a pitcher of root beer and a pitcher of regular beer for the grownups. Sometimes, we’d get chicken and Mojo’s too

Yum.

Pizza hut came a few years after. They were the first to introduce the thick and chewy pan pizza. I think this one was the one which offered the “real pizza” that Dad said a “real” pizza should be. Lots of toppings and real mozzarella cheese that when first bitten, would create strings of long pale yellow strands from your mouth to the pizza slice.

Our favorite branch was the one in Cubao, at the corner of Fiesta carnival and SM shoe mart. We’d go there some Sundays, to buy a couple of things, then go on a few rides in the Carnival, usually the caterpillar and the one that was full of air and shaped like a giant tomato. The one you bounce around in? Anyway, eventually, we would find each other by meeting up at Pizza hut at a predetermined time.

Just Eating

A few years later, they finally opened the branch at Delta and Dad brought us there one time, bearing a small tin of anchovies. He had them sprinkle bits of anchovy flakes into and over the pizza giving off teeny burst of saltiness in every bite.

The thing was, was that dad had built us up so much on what a “real pizza” should be, that the first time, Jo Ann, Mom, and I went to the United States, we very excitedly came directly from the airport and just had had had to have a “real” pizza.

So we asked for the number of a pizza place, ordered ourselves a pizza. Large, as there were three of us, and of course, with added anchovies, which, at the time, was Mom’s favorite add-on ingredient

When it came….Oh my! Not only was the pizza so enormous we couldn’t possibly eat it all in one sitting, ( maybe if we ate it for breakfast, lunch and dinner for a couple of days… maybe) It was easily three times as big as the normal “large” we get back at home… and the anchovies!!!

There was an anchovy the size of a small galunggong, a whole entire fish, in the center of every single slice… eeyew.

No wonder a lot of people don’t like anchovies in their pizza.

Pizza delivery eventually came along with other food deliver services. We used to order almost nightly because Eric just loved Pizza. We rotated “requesting” mom to “make us libre pizza’. We had a mental tally on who should ask mom next…mainly because Eric didn’t want to ask Mom all the time. We would alternate between Pizza places but we used to order so often that all we had to do was call, say “Delivery for Eric’…and they would start quoting our own address, telephone number, and gate color to us before we could even continue on with his Family name.

It went kind of like this…

“Order for Eric…”

“Of xx-xxxx Street? xxxx xxxxxxx Quezon City? Brown gate?”

“…Reyes”

I sometimes laugh at the thought of another Eric who’d order pizza…we might get his order by mistake… Knowing us, we’d probably pay for it anyway and eat it…The other Eric can just go hungry.

Suki kami eh.

One time, during Christmas, the regular pizza delivery boy actually sent us a Christmas card. It wasn’t Shakey's but his own store bought Hallmark Greeting Card. Because he sees us nightly and I guess to him, we were almost friends.

It was very sweet.

And on his last day as delivery boy, he came to the house to tell us he was leaving, that he probably wasn’t going to see us again and he just wanted to make paalam.

I wonder whatever happened to him.

teaching Laurie how to eat