My Memory of Lola Andê

Lola Andê, my maternal grandmother, was one of the strong influences in the shaping of my character. She once told me that since I loved fine things, I had to learn to earn my own money so I could have the things I like. She encouraged me to find my own means to be able to buy nice clothes, good food, and valuable possessions.

Lola encouraged me to save money, to spare portion of whatever little money I`d make. “For the rainy days,” she said, “because nothing could be more humiliating for a person than to go through a day without money in his pocket.” When you have money, Lola pointed out, you could look anybody in the eye.

There was no doubt in my young mind then that my grandmother was a moneyed person. She had her own businesses. She made the most famous “tableya” in town at the time. She also had a store that sold almost every basic necessity.

Every so often, Lola would take me out to a good restaurant in the city. We were not necessarily hungry every time we went, for there was always food at home. Perhaps she just wanted the two of us to have a taste of fine cuisine.

After each special meal, Lola Ande` would ask me how I liked the food, or what I thought of it. It was like she was trying to teach me how to appreciate luxury. I think she succeeded, for I soon began to have a taste for fine things.

So I had to start earning my own money. One of the ways I thought of was working as a shoeshine boy. I told Mama Pining about it, and my mother welcomed the idea. She bought me a new set of shoeshine equipment.

There was a spot by the side of the street, at the corner of Bonifacio and Sikatuna, a short distance from my parent`s school.  I saw it one time on my way to Zapatera, where I was attending grade school. It was a perfect site for my intended trade.

As soon as my classes were over, there I was with my shoeshine box, waiting for customers. School was in the morning, so I did business mostly in the afternoon. On weekends, I was often out there the whole day.

What I was doing would have bored any regular kid, but I had devised a way to sustain my interest – I entertained myself with the sights on the street; the people passing by, the tartanillas, and the few cars. Oh yes, especially the cars!

One afternoon a man approached to avail of my shoeshine service. He was all in white, except at the bottom – white shirt, white pants, but black shoes. He looked so neat, and I just knew I had to be very careful not to mess him up.

I checked my hands first for any dirt before I carefully raised the bottoms of his sparkling white pants. He was keenly watching my every move. Then I started applying black polish on his shoes, careful not to smear it on his pants.

I was doing okay, and my customer was obviously pleased at my diligence – but unfortunately, not for long.

I heard the smooth hum of a motor and looked up. A beautiful car was emerging from a nearby corner, the most beautiful car I had ever seen – certainly the best in town at the time.

It was as American car; I don’t remember exactly what kind of car it was. It belonged to then Cebu Governor Sotero Cabahug, who was residing in the area. And, oh, how dignified the good governor looked inside the car; that’s what slick cars do – they add sparkle to the personality of their riders.

The sight so mesmerized me that I momentarily forgot the task at hand. Those short moments felt like forever to me.  I was totally blown away.

Then, a pinch on my ear suddenly brought me back to my senses. The pleasant view was replaced with an ugly one. My customer was fuming to see smudges of black shoe polish on his pristine white pants!

I was so embarrassed by my misdeed, of course. But the mistake didn’t dampen my eagerness to earn my own money. Instead, it renewed my determination.

And so, for quite a time afterwards, I held on to my little spot at the corner of the street, working as much as I could in order to earn money, with Lola Andê’s words ringing in my head. And it holds with me to this day!