I was pondering this the minute my friends Lia Anonas, Edwin Santos and I took the dawn flight to Boston from San Francisco.
Boston University, for two years, was my home away from home. It was here where I took my undergrad degree in film production. It has been 12 years since I last set foot on Boston. Like a child who was weaned from the tender loving care of her mother for more than a decade, I embraced the city with all my heart the moment our plane taxied on the runway. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced at the crimson-hued skyline above the imposing buildings of this sophisticated city which always seems larger than life.
Independence was what Boston taught me. It was here where I weaved and created dreams that would later on come true.
I was waxing nostalgic as Lia’s brother, Pele, took us around the city until we slowly drove past the august halls of my beloved alma mater. I recalled romping around the university grounds waiting for our freshman orientation. I vividly remembered the fresh faces of the friends I first met on campus. Visions of all the orange parking tickets I used to get because I would wait out the blistering snow storm inside the classroom.
Boston is indeed a magnificent city. Called the "Athens of America," the city’s 19th century glory can be seen through its grand architecture, population of literary scholars, educators, intellectuals and well-known personalities in the academic and cultural institutions. The city blends old- world charm with modern conveniences.
Snow was falling when we were there. I delightfully shared with my companions how I lovingly associate the snow of Boston with the kindness and unconditional love of my late father, Ting Dayrit. My Dad bought me a Burberry coat (which I still use to this day) in Hong Kong to combat the winter in Boston. It’s not the purchasing of one coat that matters here but the story behind it. When my father was studying in New York University, he wanted a Burberry coat but couldn’t afford it. He promised himself that one day he would buy one. Well, modesty aside, he bought three – for myself, my brother Mark, and my sister Yvonne Romualdez when we were studying in Boston.
"Where do you want to go next?" asked Pele who is a certified Bostonian after having lived there for a few years now.
"Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market," I quickly replied.
Faneuil Hall (pronounced either "Fan-yule" or "Fannel") is one of the stops on the Freedom Trail. Today, it is better known as a large festival market. The squarish building is easy to identify because of the grasshopper weathervane at the top. Faneuil Hall is a fun place, what with street comedians and musicians, a myriad of food to try and take home. At night, it becomes one of Boston’s hub for serious drinking. Pubs and bars around teem with people from different cultures enjoying the same pleasures.
Less than a block away is the Quincy Market. Open 24/7, this unique outdoor food market is as much a street theater as a place to get fresh farm produce like vegetables, fruits and seafoods.
Quincy Market will always be remembered because this was where I shot my first silent comedy movie which starred my brother Mark as a gay con artist. It was here that my mettle in directing was put to the test.
The Harvard Square was a favorite for me back then. For serious people watching, the Square is the place to be. From skate punks to nerdy students to tweedy professors, everybody is in this square. For book lovers, there are more bookstores here than anyone will find in any of the states in America. But more than anything else it is here where the Harvard University and MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) are located.
Next stop: Boston Common, the oldest park in the whole of America. It was delightful to stroll on these grounds again. I used to enjoy shopping and fashion watching in nearby Newbury street with fellow students Naynay Velez, Rocio Pantaleon, Tina Vitas, Bobby Aquino and Blossom Sumulong.
Newbury Street is Boston’s chic, tree-lined shopping street dotted with expensive boutiques and galleries. One can just sit in any of the cafes that line the street and watch the world go by.
When we drove past the North End, the most European-like city in America replete with narrow streets, old men on benches talking in Italian, among other memories of Europe.
It was an Englishman named Reverend William Blackstone who first settled in Boston in 1629 to a peninsula by a stream called Shawmut. Blackstone made it his settlement and renamed it Boston, after his hometown in Lincolnshire, England. According to writer David Banner, the reverend and his followers left England to escape religious persecution and to establish a pious Puritan state. Sadly, Blackstone shortly left the colony due to the harsh, intolerant society that the Puritans had created. Until 1664, citizenship in Massachusetts was restricted to church members.
Though European culture has a paramount influence in the city, the Chinese presence cannot be dismissed. The presence of Chinatown in the heart of Boston provides a stark confluence of culture in the city. At Chinatown, we feasted on dimsum after hearing Sunday mass with the Filipino community in Boston College.
My recent trip to Boston would not have been complete without a visit to the Leonin family. The Leonins are a byword among Filipinos in Boston. They earned the sobriquet "The Good Samaritans" because they selflessy share their lives, resources, and services with anyone in need.
We visited the Plymouth Rock last. It was here where I took video footage of my late mother, Mila Dayrit, for an assignment in my Alfred Hitchcock class. It was such a memorable day for us since I made Mark my bird director while Dad was watching from a not-so-far distance. My mom and dad’s arrival in Boston was very memorable because our parents drove all the way from New York to check on us. They filled our refrigerator with food and bought us other appliances like a rice cooker, microwave and an oven.
Looking back, Boston indeed was instrumental in shaping me to the person I am today.