Bermejo Street

Note: This is a repost. Originally posted on July 23, 2009, 10:35pm.

This is Bermejo Street in the Municipality of Cabatuan, Province of Iloilo. The picture was taken by my nephew from near our ancestral house towards the direction of the parish church. He took the picture possibly because he would like to record the street where he spent his years from the time he was a baby to the time, at 17 years old, he left for the United Kingdom where he would study and, probably, where he would stay for good.

The street is the main street in Cabatuan. It is a commercial area and pass-through for vehicles going to Janiuay in the north and to Iloilo City in the south.

Bermejo St. was also the street where my siblings and I spent our early years. The street then was narrower and, as there were fewer vehicles at that time, it was also a place where we played. I remembered a bus nearly ran over me. The bus was discharging passengers near where we were playing. Then a friend ran after me and my brother. I ran to the street. Then I just saw a blur of colors - the same colors as the side of the bus. People shrieked and cried. The bus stopped. The passengers stood and shouted that the bus nearly killed a boy. Some passengers pointed at me while others pointed at my brother. Some neighbors were hysterical. They said I was pale and I might black-out. Others shouted that I be given warm water to drink. While the old women pulled their rosaries and thanked heavens that nothing untoward happened to me. Amidst all this hoopla, I was quiet on the lap of my grandmother. I never understood the concern and the attention I got. Then my mother, who was a teacher, came home. She got a plastic belt and gave my bottom a lashing. She only stopped when I promised never to play on the street again.

I kept my promise for about a week. After that, it was again playtime on the street.

During those times, there was no electricity. People used kerosene lamps. We had Petromax which shone like daylight bulbs. On moonlit nights, we played hide and seek, ens-ens, tumba patis, tumba preso and told stories about aswang, kapres, and murtos. Many times we just lay down on the asphalt and counted the stars; or pointed at a star we wanted to visit when we grew up. At that time, we had heard that a man named Armstrong had already visited the moon. When a vehicle passed, we scamperred to hide because we were informed that some people in vehicles stole kids at night which they used as offerings in some sugar centrals - ginadaga. But we completely stopped our nightouts after a passenger jeep jumped into an abyss. Many passengers from Cabatuan died. After the accident, people said they heard sounds of shoes as ghosts wearing high heeled shoes roamed the streets at night. When old folks shouted 'Steel heels!', kids like us cowered in fear.

The street changed a bit when electricity came. The nights were brighter. And there were more night people. I remembered one Christmas time. We had a Christmas tree made of wood branches wrapped with white crepe paper. My mother bought some Christmas lights and we placed them on our Christmas tree. Ours was the only house on the street with Christmas lights. So, in the evenings our playmates would come near our house and shouted 'Siga!' when the lights were on and 'Patay!' when the lights were off. Everynight we would hear 'Siga! Patay! Siga! Patay! etc.'


There were only two houses on the street with a television set (maybe, the whole of Cabatuan had only 5 TV sets). In the evenings, people went to these houses to watch TV shows. People sat on the floor, on window sills, atop fences, and nearby tree branches just to have a glimpse of the TV screen. Only the dear friends of the house owner got to sit on the chairs positioned in front of the TV sets. For us kids, we watched through slats or holes on the walls. Sometimes we were lucky to know the owner of the next house. So my friends would sit near the window which overlooked towards the sala of the next house with TV. I liked this arrangement. But I was not watching TV. I was looking across the kitchen of the house with TV. The TV owner was having dinner of plates of rice, and pork adobo. Everynight, he had pork adobo with another viand. His table had so much. While we only had baringon and lamayo. The following day, we talked about the previous night's show. We memorized even the advertisement. Those who had not watched the show looked so miserable and dirt poor because they lived far from the house with a TV set.

When we were older, we used to tambay on the corner of Estrella-Bermejo Sts. We talked about school, friends, and the latest cool music. The most adventurous among us were smoking Layebana and drinking lapad. Addicts and rapists were only on the pages of newspapers.

Bermejo St. from the same spot near our house, towards the direction of Janiuay. The far green wall to the right of the street is Cabatuan National Comprehensive High School.

Today, Bermejo St. is indeed different from the one I knew in the past. The houses are different, the residents are different. Where before there were only vacant lots, now there are already commercial buildings. Before I knew all the tambays. Now, I feel like I am a stranger in my former tambayan. The nights are so dark, even with electricity, that people seem afraid to venture out. And not because of aswangs or Steel Heels.

It was sad that I had no camera before to capture the street I left years ago. I feel sad that I can't show a hard copy of the street I knew, when the familiar faces were still around.

But I feel happy that my nephew had a picture of the street he knew. Years from now, he will return a different person - older, wiser, well-travelled. Bermejo St. will be different by then. The people will be different.

Or possibly, he will never return. But a picture will help make remembering easy. Bermejo St. will continue to be part of him. I am sure my nephew will be happy to reminisce the years he spent in that street, when life was simple and when his uncle was around. @