"Sa Maynila, saan sa Maynila?" a kababayan would always ask as a follow-up to the usual queries on one’s link to the mother land. "Sa Makati" and to this the usual reply, "Talaga? Wow! Ang sosyal mo naman!"
I guess those who have only visited Makati once or twice only associate the city with its popular shopping and financial districts. Many automatically think of the high-rise office buildings of Ayala Avenue or the posh malls and restaurants in the area. This is, of course, a fraction of a much larger community where I grew up in and spent almost a quarter of my lifetime.
The Makati of my childhood in the seventies was not a city then but a municipality in Rizal. We lived in the residential area near the municipal hall on J.P. Rizal Avenue, the main road plied by jeepneys and buses from Taft to "Ilalim" or "ibabaw" (Guadalupe stops on opposite sides of EDSA), or to Ayala and Buendia. Going to Guadalupe meant you would pass by the Lola Theater (a second-rate-looking movie house) before reaching Burgos and Makati Ave.; and Rockwell Station, a power plant across the banks of the Pasig River. I heard that this site is now home to an upscale shopping center. Memorable stops also included the Loyola Funeral Homes and ABC, another movie theater popular for showing many Tagalog blockbusters.
The popular shopping destination was the Makati Commercial Center, long before there was Greenbelt and before it was renamed Ayala Center. If you wanted to watch a movie, you would go to the Rizal Theater or to the Quad. The Makati Supermart was where you would get your groceries and popular restaurants were The Plaza and Sulu. Outdoor mass and concerts were held at the Glorietta, a park like setting at the rear of the Quad and accessible to Makati Supermart and nearby Rustan's, said to be one of Madame Imelda's favorite department stores. The Manila Inter-Continental Hotel was adjacent to Shoemart on Edsa and Ayala Avenues. Having been gone for many years, I do not know which of the landmarks mentioned remain or closed shop.
As a youngster, my errands took me to the post office which was just a few blocks from the munisipyo, right next to the Rizal Superette, the neighborhood grocery. Across the road is Mercury Drug. Its storefront is one long, white counter open directly to pedestrians and customers, and a back drop of endless rows of medicine bottles. In the evening hours, motorists driving by can't help but notice its glaringly bright overhead lighting. Nearby were a Magnolia Ice Cream House and another snack house families and barkadas frequent when the weather gets very hot and you just want to be some place air-conditioned. Also within walking distance is the parish church of St. Andrew the Apostle on Reposo Street (later renamed Nicanor Garcia St.) and Pasig Line (later renamed Imelda Ave. and post People Power days Kalayaan Ave. ). One direction of Imelda Avenue borders the Makati Cemetery while the opposite direction will take you towards the I.S. or International School and Makati Avenue's restaurant row.
As for our neighborhood, apart from the minor brawls of the local tambays, we felt generally secure. Our streets and sidewalks were adequately paved, some even landscaped. Bakeries, sari-sari stores and street vendors cater our morning pan de sal and taho, "pish bol" meryenda, and night cap balut. The area was definitely no Forbes Park or Dasmarinas Village, the prominent subdivisions that time. But to us bulilits, our only concern was to get our homework done in time to join the playmates outside. The gang would gather out in the street for a lively game of patintero, tubigan, habulan, moro-moro, taguan, etc. Some of the kids even started go-cart races, yo-yo matches, and skateboard exhibitions when skateboarding became trendy. We relished active, noisy play and screaming and yelling like miniature Tarzans of our urban jungle. We occasionally take a "taym awt" to give way to a car or two passing by, but for most part our street belongs to us and is our common playground. We also welcomed the occasional visits of the carabao-drawn caravan to our neighborhood. The caravan is an amusing traveling tindahan of native handicrafts and household items. Everyone stopped to marvel at the colorful parade before us. The adults said that the family aboard came from the probinsya to sell their wares. We would try to peek at the rear of the caravan to get an idea of how the people lived and slept within. But we failed to see its interiors, obstructed by hundreds of sabits of walis-tambo, salakot, banig, banko, bunot, and so much more. Merchandize and curiosities fill all sides of the cart all the way to the roof!
Seasonal downpours did not stop us from having fun. We risked pneumonia and frolicked and splashed at each other in the rain as if our street was a huge waterpark; except that the girls weren't in their bathing suits or the guys in their trunks. T-shirts and shorts were the norm to achieve our "wet look".
I look back to the Makati of yesteryears and the childhood friends I miss and realize one funny thing: Man, that was one long play date!
Technorati Tags:70s, memories, nostalgia
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