When I was three or four, my mother and I scoured Escolta looking for a puppy that was being sold by a street vendor. It caught my eye as we were crossing the bridge that led to the Santa Cruz Church. To my father's consternation, I insisted on searching for the dog in that old but what was then a fashionable district, which at the end of it all might well turn out to be a lowly mongrel. Not that I never took care of mongrels later on in my childhood. But Escolta's profound graphic representation of my more genteel youth bodes well with the district's cobble stones, turn-of-the-century lamps and better dressed Filipinos. While Camilo my father was working in his office in one of those buildings, Pacita my mother and I would try to find the best outfit for this unico hijo in a store called Soriente Santos. I'm not sure if I was really supposed to look mature at three or four, but Pacita bought me suits that I wore even in not so important occasions. I never felt awkward about my magkaternong suit because for some reason, Pacita my mother always said that that's how a young gentleman should look like.
And a gentleman I think I was for the better part of my toddler years. I remember my aunt, Tia Aurea was so amazed at how I would never address adults directly but whisper to my mother whatever it was that concerned me. Or maybe it was a sign of extreme shyness. I didn't play just with anyone unless i was sure that they were nice kids. My father Camilo made sure that I played with the right children lest I get hurt in games that involved too much physical stress. in that sense, being the only boy who had Cadiz as a last name became both a blessing and a curse to my childhood.
This over-protectiveness of my father extended into my teen years. I was banned from biking in certain roads because they were deemed too busy with fast-moving cars. And just to make sure that I didn't hurt myself climbing trees or chasing after my hundred or so racing pigeons, I always had a boy who was at least my age or younger who did those chores for me. Among other things. These sidekicks flew kites for me, chased monitor lizards at the creek behind our house as well as kept an eye on potential kidnappers. When I was about 10, some shenanigans sent my family a letter threatening to kidnap me unless Camilo my father gave in to their requests. Many requests. Requests which of course were never granted either because they just simply overestimated my potential worth as a kidnap victim or they were plain ridiculous.
I don't know. But I was never told nor was I convinced even in my childhood that we were wealthy. We didn't have any business as a family or as a clan. In fact I had the distinct impression that my ancestors including the more immediate ones weren't really very hardworking people. For generations, the family lived off the harvests from our lands. And it was probably these lands that failed to convince people that we weren't really the cash-flowing clan that they think we were. In fact, sometime in the 80s and early 90s when copra was so dirt cheap, we had our share of bad economic times. Our family home, while relatively large by turn of the century standards, hasn't seen major renovation since the american occupation. And while I went away to attend a nice high school in Manila, I still felt I didn't get everything I wanted as a teenager.
It's probably the over-pondering about childhood and teen years that is so characteristic of mid-life. As we begrudgingly drag our feet into the 40s, some coped better than the others. They connected their nice memories of childhood and how they have shaped their personalities in their twenties and early thirties. and it kinda makes sense. My pampered childhood gave me a sense of protection and deep love but likewise exposed the fragility of a child whose killer instinct might have been be in jeopardy. the hunt for that little mongrel in sta cruz might be telling of my future sense on what animal's value can be discernible as it sits in its owner's basket as it lays waiting for the next available customer.
When my mother saw to it that i got nice suits, she knew that sometime in the future, it would be my turn to see that her needs are attended to. this sudden reversal still escapes me because although i might be turning 40 next year, i really was just 27 two weeks ago. My father's earlier than expected passing also put me through a responsibility i've been told from the beginning was mine but i ignored nonetheless. Now i'm the head of my family and along comes with it are the consequent benefits and heavy responsibilities.
soriente santos is no longer in escolta to help me look the part of the distinguished head of the family. that's good... that's good because i think that's the easiest part of it.
