A lot has changed over the years. My generation is the boomers. We were the yuppies of the 90s. We witnessed the transition from Marcos to Cory and some of us took an active part in it.
Because of my grandfather working for the Rocha family of C.F. Sharp Inc., he rented an apartment for my parents at Concepcion Aguila St. in San Miguel, Manila. San Miguel is a residential district that includes Malacañan Palace along what used to be known as Calle Aviles. It later on became what it is now which is J.P. Laurel St.
San Miguel is where some of the rich or the de buena familias moved to when Quiapo transitioned to being a commercial district. R. Hidalgo and Bilibid Viejo streets are walking distance from both J.P. Laurel and Concepcion Aguila.
Post-war Manila saw San Miguel more populated with middle-class families of Filipinos, Mestizos and Chinoys. St. Jude Catholic Church was run by Chinese priests and the school was known for its rigorous academic standard.
The other prominent schools were along Mendiola St. College of the Holy Ghost, San Beda, La Consolacion and Centro Escolar lined the long street which connects with Claro M. Recto on one end and J.P. Laurel on the other.
The focus of the community would be the parishes. The Chinese would go to St. Jude. The Pinoys would have a choice of the Abbey of Our Lady of Montserrat, San Miguel Cathedral and San Sebastian Church.
The sense of community was still strong then. Most of the children of residents attended the nearby schools. I didn't become active until high school though I had been hearing mass at the Abbey even when I was still on the bottle.
OB Montessori had been planning to establish a high school department but it didn't push through with our batch. We had to transfer out for high school. I decided to attend San Beda because it was walking distance and I needed exposure.
We were a bit insular at Montessori. We were in our own ecosystem. My first day at San Beda was like my first day in school again. Thirty-five students in one section. I was the new kid on the block and a target for bullies. I wasn't the type to be bullied given my size but I did go through that rite of passage.
I made friends quickly enough and found out that some school mates were also neighbors. I was soon playing more basketball on an advanced level since the brothers of the school mate neighbors played on the NCAA junior basketball team.
Puberty was also at it peak so there were the usual boyhood shenanigans of trying alcohol and marijuana. We didn't even have to buy the grass. Upperclassmen were generous enough to give it to us.
The highlights of the annual school calendar were the opening of the NCAA, the high school dance and Frolics, the school fair. These events involved socializing with the opposite sex. Another rite of passage.
Disco fever was at its peak and there were parties organized by students of exclusive girls schools where they invited boys from exclusive boys schools. The parties were held in houses. The old houses then were spacious with a large sala area. Boys on one side, girls seated on the sofa. One had to conjure the courage to ask having a dance. If you didn't have it, you were labeled as torpe. It was the golden age of disco and you could dance all night without repeating a single tune. All were hits.
Christmas was special because Fr. Bernardo Ma. Perez would organize a choir of young boys from the grade school department of San Beda. There would be two alternating soloists singing select holiday songs which were unheard of but meaningful. You could feel the Christmas spirit in the air and in your heart.
We lived in an apartment compound where the sense of community was strong. Come the holidays food trays would be exchanged all around. Well, not all. Some were snooty but us kids got along very well. Age groups mingled well and the older ones mentored the younger in both the good and the bad. It was all part of growing up.
The extend community included batchmates and schoolates at San Beda who were also residents of San Miguel. We would do the rounds of Christmas and New Year's celebrations after the mass at the Abbey.
The beginning of the end was high school graduation and we were off to college. Not all of us wanted to stay in San Beda and go through another rite of passage in the same environment.
For us renters, the last straw was the ouster of Marcos in 1986. The rent control law was junked by the new government and landlords made up one reason or another to get us to move out and give way to those who would be willing to pay double what our monthly rent was. Thus began and unmitigated and unplanned development of Metro Manila which continues to today.
We eventually lost touch and moved on. About the last time I heard mass at the Abbey was back in 2001, if I remember correctly. Social media allowed us to reconnect but we all have our own paths and suffer under the weight of our own crosses. Not all are fortunate to have a good life.
Sadly, some of us have gone ahead. The elders have passed on and some of us have followed with them or even gone ahead of them.
But for us, the length of time and the breadth of distance is not enough to break strong bonds and each time we have the opportunity to get together, it's as if nothing has changed. There's too many memories to reminisce about and remember.
All of us are broken in one way or another but it helps if there is a strong support group in the community that you can rely on. That's what we had in ours. That's what made us strong to this day. This is what gives us the courage to go on.
Not all the memories are good but I choose to remember only the good because in our community, the bad could easily be forgotten.
This is how should be with families and that's what we were before.
One big, happy family in the community.
This is in memory of all those who have passed on in the apartment compound along Concepcion Aguila St.
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