(I would like to relate stories of how I grew up in the town; stories about people, places and events that would describe how it was when I was growing up in the 1950s and 60s. The town then was sleepy, very quiet after 8 PM. Almost everybody in town were “true blooded San Carlenian”, related by blood or affinity.) Growing Up in my Hometown Journal # 1 by Angel B. Casillan Pete and Halo-halo girls. In the town where I live, there is an ice cream store owned by a Filipino woman who decided to sell halo-halo to her Filipino friends. We haven’t had a halo-halo for years so my wife and I checked it out, and indeed it tasted like the halo-halo that I knew in San Carlos. It brought back memories that I had about the halo-halo tinderas, cute girls who put up kiosks during the Holy Week and other occasions. Like many of the people I knew, I met Pete at the town plaza while I was shooting breezes, meaning (stand-by). Pete was good looking, a lot older than I was and about to graduate from college, but our age gap did not matter. He was a smart fellow so I did not mind being his sidekick, because he was very articulate with the English language, his command of the language was excellent. His use of good sounding and attention getting words would catch the attention of the tinderas, which flattered me because of the attention that was given to us. I remember that evening of Holy Thursday when Pete and I just came out of the Church and we thought of goofing around to waste our time. During the Holy Week, halo-halo kiosks would be lined up in front of the church, usually put up by young girls. Pete and I would select the cutest tindera and would “park” on her kiosk. Then Pete would do his monologue, using high sounding and confusing words like consistently consistent or inconsistently inconsistent, to the amazement of the beautiful tinderas. My job was to cheer him up, at that time I could not muster any good sounding words because I was an unsophisticated probinsiano. There were good spots to park that time, one place was the “Mac… sisters“, those cute and dainty girls who happened to be smart. Their laughter listening to Pete’s jokes and antics would perk him, sort of an encouragement for him to blow more steam until he would reach the next level of his showcase. I would feel proud of him because as his side kick, I rubbed elbows with this smart guy, besides learning new words that I could use in case I would show off someday, which I never did. It would take us an hour to finish our cup of halo-halo before we would order another cup, with Pete still talking until he would run out of jokes and impressive sounding words. The following evening would be a repeat performance of last night’s routine, where we would seek again for the cute halo-halo girls who could talk, and where Pete once again would do the same monologue, like a tape recorder. Although Pete was older then, more schooled and smarter, I enjoyed his company because of his friendliness and of the new things I learned from him. Of the people who were my heroes at that time, Pete was up there, being there at the right time and place in my life. After I went and finished college, my visit to my hometown became occasional due of my job, and it became even more rare after I immigrated to America. I did not have a chance to tract Pete when I last visited my hometown and I don’t know what happened to him after I left the town. But this I know, that he probably ended up as an educator, and because with his excellent knowledge of English, I would not be surprised if he was with the English department. I like Pete, who despite my naiveté and our age gap accommodated me as his friend. I wonder where Pete is right now.
Posted on: Mon, 05 Aug 2013 12:46:58 +0000
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