Can you relate?

From the 1940s to the 70s, we were born and survived without OB-Gynes.  The top choice was the manghihilot because it was cheaper and they do home service.  When our moms have cough or colds, even when pregnant, Vicks Formula 44 was taken by the gulp, Cortal or Medicol for fever.  Some moms, while carrying us on their arms, smoked Pall Malls or Chesterfields and we didn’t die from second-hand smoke.

Our cribs were not fancy.  They were made of wood, made pretty with lead-based paints menaced with a few heads of nails slightly protruding waiting to cut our baby skins.  Even our andadors were primitive, without wheels and only lampins strapped across dually serving as a soft seat and urinal.  Pampers and all related species were still 4 decades away and it was a sight to behold seeing all those little square white sheets invading the backyard in the morning, merrily flapping with the soft breeze.

We grew up without Jollibee, Mac Do and KFC and the only take out we knew was the siopao from either Visayan or Manila Restaurants along Manalili Street.  Coffee was coffee.  What’s Starbucks?  Who’s Bo and seriously, do coffees dream?  Those were the days of Kape Puro and Blend 45.  Remember the jingle, “45 choice coffee beans in a cup of Blend 45”?

What exactly is mineral water?  We drank straight from the poso or gripo, often flavored with something metallic.  For variety, there’s water from the garden hose.  A bottle of either Lem-O-Lime, Sarsi, Rootbeer or Choc-Vim was shared by up to five playmates.  Did we die from hepatitis then?  Hello, I’m still having my column on this paper and those whom I shared the bottle with are all healthy, although a bit old.  Softdrinks then have real sugar, there were no diet sodas.

Rice was eaten with raw eggs, mantika sa baboy and patis or with Star margarine, if we really wanted to grow tall.  Ovaltine in really huge cans was eaten, not drank.  Some of us were slightly on the over-fed side but we seldom got sick then.  You know why?

We never stayed in the house during summer.  The whole neighborhood was our playground.  The only time we will be seen at home is during breakfast, lunch and dinner.  There were no cellphones so naturally, we cannot be reached.  Our father’s whistle brings us home.  Some of our playmates are summoned by distinctive claps or yells from their respective fathers or mothers.

Cable TV was not born yet and we spent a time lying on the floor watching Mighty Thor, Popeye and Gumby.  Remember the TV series The Wild, Wild West, Combat and Rat Patrol?  My brother and I are always tempted to throw tantrums because we have to wait for Mama to finish her Flordeluna.  There were no video games, no internet and we have real and live friends, not the 300 or 800-plus that we have on Facebook today.

We were so hyper then.  Trees were climbed, fences were scaled, roofs became lounge areas.  When it was ‘kaka’ season, we go on night patrols with torches made of dry coco palms looking for spiders.  Yes, there were minor cuts, bukols and bruises, more than a few fights and a few good whacks on our behind from our parents.

We played syatong, hoarded marbles and separated the ‘mamords’ from the ‘bakunots’.  Sometimes, both our arms are up to elbows with rubber bands.  We played ‘kasing’ and the top that spun like a ballerina was very ‘otok’, the one spinning like a drunk is ‘karagan’.  We also played ‘luthang’ with perdigones seeds as ammunition.  Territories were marked and anyone who strays will be assassinated.

Eight o’clock in the evening we own the highway, specially if the moon’s shining brightly.  Vehicles mysteriously disappear on these times and we mark the asphalt with water and play tubig-tubig or biko-biko or bato-lata until ten in the evening.  Our parents were only there to see if we’re all ok, not like today where they meddle and fight with other parents and to some extent with other kids.  If we get hurt, friends say, “ok ra ka, way sakit?”.  But if a playmate is mad at you, expect a sarcastic, “meresi nimo!”, “may ra!” or “gi gabaan!”  There were no stupid lawsuits then.

Summer leagues equals tryouts to team sports and not all of us made it to the team.  Those who failed to qualify learned to deal with the frustration.  There was no childhood anxiety or depression.  Pilde ang maglagot.

We played barefoot softball at the backyard on some afternoons and older folks had a different name for the sport – indoor.  Up to now, I’m still wondering how they got they name as the game was played outdoors.  It was during one of those “indoor” games that I had my first fight with a playmate.  Trash talking was already in existence and both our egos were pricked.  With cheers of “sige! Sige!” from other playmates, we fought, more like wrestled, for a few minutes.  I caught a glimpse of my father, hands on his hips, surprisingly smiling.  All the other elders around were obviously entertained with our show.

We flew kites and the more experienced fliers did aerial battles.  We chased goats, got chased by cows and rode either on a carabao’s back or on the balsa that is being pulled.  I seriously doubt if today’s kids have seen these animals in living color.

The children who experienced this generation now runs our country and just look what 50 years has done.  Mistakes were learned the hard way.  Today’s kids only have to delete their mistakes and do it all over again.  We sometimes don’t understand our children and apos and I suppose the feeling is mutual.  It has become difficult to raise parents today.

Again, it is summer and several camps and clinics are introduced for children to make them more productive.  The more active take part but a good majority opt to sit and fiddle with their PCs, PlayStations, Xboxes and other related devices.  My point?  Gone are the days of summer when every child and teen was active without the aid of electronics.

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