These I Remember...

When people ask you what your fondest memories are of your childhood, where do your thoughts automatically turn to? Is it the Christmases past when gifts galore were yours to open, or the summer vacations when you simply had nothing to do but sleep and eat and loll around, or even the comfort you felt when Mommy cooked your favorite, piping-hot bowl of arroz caldo?

As for me, these are what I remember.

• Those long, sweltering summer days, when everybody felt lethargic and so not-in-the-mood to lift a finger to even get up and get a snack. When everyone, even the insects and the lizards, seemed to go on a temporary hiatus to doze away the hot afternoon. And rest. And wake up and do nothing. To vegetate was bliss.
• When kids could still be seen on residential roads, happily and safely playing street games like piko, patintero, tumbang preso, Chinese garter, kasal-kasalan, Dr. Quack-Quack, taguan. The best times were morning, afternoon, and evening, esp. when the moon was bright and full. Power failures were also excuses to go outside and call the neighborhood friends to play -- what better way to spend the time waiting for the electricity to come back on, eh?
• Reading books for my own amusement, not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I still remember trying to "ration" myself to a few chapters a day, so my stash of books could last me the whole summer! Nowadays, the experience of reading a good book seems to be overshadowed more and more by the lure of video games, the Internet, and other electronic gadgets. I still get excited by the chance of tearing open the plastic wrapping of a new book, the crisp new smell of the pages, the uncreased spine.
• Eating an ice-cold, brain-freeze-inducing glass of halu-halo is one pleasure that can be enjoyed year-round, but is mostly associated with the heat of summer. I am quite partial to a spoonful of halu-halo with crunchy pinipig, colorful kaong and nata de coco, the gritty sweetness of monggo, ripe saging na saba, and topped with a generous slice of luscious leche flan and a dollop of creamy, brightly purple ube. Yummy!
• Fruit flavored ice candy, popsicles and ice drop could be found in every street corner, just awaiting the boys and girls who would surely come running and willingly fork over their precious coins just to be able to savor the cold, refreshing goodness from these treats.
• When we were young, a family picnic at the Luneta Park was something to look forward to during the weekends. One could enjoy the welcome sunshine and soft breeze coming from nearby Manila Bay while simply running around and enjoying the day. Nowadays, one would be lucky not to encounter a smirk or be branded "jologs" at the mere mention of a visit to Luneta.
• I remember when blowing soap bubbles meant having embarked on a pseudo-scientific foray of gathering gumamela flowers and leaves, pounding them into a paste, and adding detergent to the mixture. The bubble-forming implement would then be made from a piece of wire bent to just the right shape. Nowadays, there are instant bubble-making mixes in just about every toy store -- convenient, but somehow unsatisfying.
• Knowing the phone numbers of one's friends and family members used to be a good exercise for the brain, when memorizing them was expected, and one did so, without any complaints. With the advent of mobile phones and laptops, the need for doing so has been rendered almost obsolete.
• Viewing the Christmas display of the now-closed COD Department Store in Cubao. This was a treat for the whole family, watching the mechanized Christmas figures go through their programmed motions.
• Looking back to when we were young, our Christmas presents then seem to have had a magical aura that we so joyously welcomed. With all the toys and electronic gizmos that the children of today are exposed to, I fervently hope that they not become jaded by it all, and stil be thankful for all that they receive.
• On weekends when our family did not have anything pressing to do, we would all pitch in to make some guinatan: Papa would peel the camote and the bananas, Mama would prepare the gata and slice the langka, my sister and I would form the bilo-bilo. Then we would all wait for the bordering-on-the-ceremonial cooking of this really filling snack which was satisfying whether served hot or cold. I would consider myself a happy child if I got a cold bowlful of guinatan with loads of saging na saba; hold the camote please! Indeed, there are far easier ways to get one's guinatan fix, but I doubt that the atmosphere of familial togetherness can be recreated.
• Watching cartoons then was a treat usually reserved in the afternoons or during Saturday mornings. The rest of the time we played or studied or had fun with friends or talked with our families. Nowadays, cable TV provides a virtually unlimited supply of cartoon programs, so much so that children are increasingly glued to the boob tube and not playing, really playing enough with friends.
• The art of storytelling, and of listening to the myths and legends and folk tales of Philippine culture, should never die out. Stories of tikbalang and kapre and duwende have been part of my childhood, but I have not grown up a scaredy cat because of these things. I still remember the excitement my sister and I felt when our parents would tell us these tales, particularly on rainy nights, or during evenings when the electricity failed again in the city, as it was wont to do back then.
• As much fun as listening to folk tales was hearing about our parents' and grandparents' life stories. I was such an inquisitive little girl that I would routinely ask numerous questions about how things were when they were young. I was even the one to tell my mother that I discovered that my Lolo (her father) had a second (given) name! He did not use his second name, and so was known only by his first name. What a surprise that was. I also kept on pestering them for stories on how my Lolo and Lola met, how my mother and father met, how life was like in the province when they were all younger. These bits and pieces of our ancestors' lives should not pass on unnoticed and unsaid, and it would be a crying shame if children should be so blase and uninterested that they do not ask about them anymore.
• The first rainshower in May usually signalled the end of summer. It signified the end of a carefree vacation and heralded another year of poring over books. It was not a harbinger of sadness though, as we kids knew that we could walk happily in the rain and get wet without a care in the world, knowing that there was another summer to look forward to.

The world where we grew up in slowly receding. It is being replaced by a world of gadgets and glitz, of convenience and shortcuts, technological advances and bright possibilities. However it is also, increasingly, a world of fear and suspicion, of people not knowing and not wanting to know who lives in their neighborhoods, of people not feeling free to knock on their neighbors' doors to borrow a bag of sugar, a ladle, or a book.

Yes, the world today has all the modern conveniences: mobile phones to be in touch with our friends and families while on the go, PSPs and iPods to entertain us while we're on the road or just plain bored, microwave ovens for meals in minutes, laptops to do work at home or play games with, a multitude of cable TV channels to choose from. No doubt, life has become more efficient with all the gadgets at our disposal. Information has never been easier to come by.

But don't you sometimes feel a sense of sadness, melancholy even, for the times when life was simpler and safer? I would love for my kids to experience walking around the streets without fear that bad things may happen to them. I would like them to experience jumping up and down in rain puddles and taking in the first showers of May.

I would love for them to be interested in things that are not related to cartoon characters or TV shows, and instead ask questions about life and family. I would love for them to be kids, and not just mini adults with kid-sized stuff.

I would love for the children of today to still be thankful for the simpler pleasures in life. I would like them to feel the peace and joy in simply sitting down -- without any electronic distractions whatsoever -- and just... be.