Lost In Blumentritt
I’ve been there quite a few times, at least in the past. When we spent our summer vacation here in Manila, we always had time to visit their house. It served as a drop-off point (for padala) and trysts for fellow kababayans who would meet their relatives. Theirs was a place which never failed to offer genuine hospitability. A bottle of Coca-cola and fresh bread from the nearest paniderya were always ready for everyone. In cases where the visitor didn’t have a place to stay, they would offer their house as a temporary hotel, free of charge.
Finding their house was the most arduous task I’ve encountered for the month. I was confident I could find it with the help of the landmark I tried to memorize the last time I visited there with my sister. It wasn’t helpful. Even people with photographic memory would find it hard to find the house located between a busy street and a railroad. I had to call somebody who knows the place by heart.
I’ve been told by the owner, Mang Roger, a big man who previously worked as a guard until he suffered from a stroke, that the place is being demolished. Spaces in between barung-barong explained it. He said they will migrate in a compound in Bulacan in the next few months. The new house, he added, is decent enough for the whole family to start life anew. "It’s not that far," he noted while I gazed at the interior of their place. Nothing has changed, except that it became cramped with boxes, rugs and old technical parts scattered in the corner.
I’ll never find their house again.
