toink.

I grew up in Pandacan. My childhood was a very eventful chunk in my life. It was when I thought everything was humongous (I though I lived in a mansion) and amazing and perfect. My family lived in an apartment unit in Zamora Street. It has enough space for a family of six (I have 3 pretty sisters and 2 loving parents) but when my two teenage cousins and two nannies camped in, it was an instant evacuation center. But all the same, I though I had the universe in that apartment. And yeah, I had more important things to think about, what with the hectic schedule that I had!

8 AM – I wake up upon the vigorous prodding of our horrible nanny Ate Lydia. “GISING NA!!! MAY PASOK KA PA! PALIGUAN NA KITA!!”

9 AM – I am free from all the nasty germs and dust and soil my skinfolds harbored, coming from the rough and tumble games played the day before. I have endured the inhumane rubbings of labakara and Safeguard on my skin, the Johnsons “No Tears” shampoo on my hair, the cardboard taste of sausage and ham. And now I’m ready for school.

9:30 AM – Commuting to JASMS with my Ate Lydia. She would always make sidestops to tiangges along the way, causing my first tardiness case in my whole academic life.

Anecdote Number 1: Taft Avenue: Riding empty Harrison Plaza-bound jeep. Me in my newly- pressed, pristine white JASMS uniform. Me wanting to play adult, asked Ate Lydia if me can give fare and talk to driver for my first time. Ate Lydia handing me three pesos for jeepney fare. Jeepney moving insanely fast. Me not wanting to risk falling to my face, slides butt along seat to the point directly behind driver. Me proudly exclaiming, “Manong, bayad poooh! JASMS!” A while after I exclaimed, “Manong, para pooooh!” Driver stops at our stop and we climb down. Me, proud of my new experience, smiles. Ate Lydia, looking at my butt, laughs.

Anecdote Number 2:  Taft Avenue, in front of PGH, waiting for Harrison Plaza-bound jeep. Jeep stops in front of us. Ate Lydia helps me climb first. Feeling like a queen, the passengers helped me as well, probably after seeing how I was scrambling like a klutz. First foot…then second foot up the vehicle’s metal support. Then all of a sudden, Vrroooooooooooom!!! The jeepney accelerates and zooms like an ambulance. Ate Lydia was left behind! The passengers and the driver were kidnapping me!!! I was set up by my own nanny!!!

From then on I never trusted maids. They are very dangerous.

10 AM – Start of English period, Grade 1, Section 2. Teacher: Mrs. Jamuat. Everyone sitting on mini candy-colored metal chairs with mini candy-colored metal tables. Lesson for the day: Capital letters and small letters.

Written on the black board, with a drawing of the object in the middle:

Apple   apple

Mrs. Jamuat: What is the difference between Apple and apple? (chalked fingers pointing at both words)

Section 2: stares blankly at the board, seeing the same thing.

Mrs. Jamuat, growing impatient: What is the difference between Apple and apple? (using a chalk, encircles ‘A’ in Apple and ‘a’ in apple)

Section 2: stares blankly at the board, seeing the same thing.

Mrs. Jamuat: Ang dali dali ng sagot hindi nyo maisagot??? Akala ko ba matatalino kayo??!? LAHAT KAYO MINUS 5!!!

Me (raising my hand): TEEEEEEEEACHER!!!!

Mrs. Jamuat, relieved: Yes, Nikki? You know the answer?

Me: Uhmm hindi po… May I go out??

*** Hehehehehe…

March 10, 1984, 7:15 PM, Perpetual Succor Hospital, Sampaloc, Manila – Coming out of my mom’s uterus was a walk in the park. It wasn’t like what my friends tell me—that it was exhausting and choking and traumatic. It wasn’t like that at all because the pretty obstetrician just cut my mom’s belly and scooped me out of my little cocoon of amniotic fluid. By then I experienced my first gulp of air. My mother, in a state of semi-consciousness in relation to having undergone generalized anesthesia, glowed upon the vision of an exceptionally magnificent, howling, shrieking creation of God. The obstetrician and the nurses seem to think so, too, and burst into smiles of approval. “Here’s your beautiful baby girl, Mrs. Laoagan. Congratulations!”