Tara!

"Nothing's gonna stop us now..."

I turn my head to the direction of the music. It is a hot, summer day, around seven o'clock in the morning, and I am out playing with my niece Raine on our street's gazebo. The gazebo is situated right atop the creek that runs through our street and several others. Across the creek are the houses of some informal settlers who have lived there for as long as I can remember. This neighborhood, with the wooden houses placed on stilts with chicken coops underneath, is reminiscent of another place from my childhood.

As I breathe in the early morning air, the classic 90's music blaring from what I can only assume to be a boombox transports me to another time.

*********

I am nine years old. In my cotton shorts and white sando, I run around the second floor of my Nanay Gloria's house in Pagsanjan, playing with cousins who always seem to be present. "Dun na kayo sa silong," Nanay tells us. "Mainit dito sa bahay." The different terms used in this place always fascinates me. Silong refers to the house's first floor and bahay the second.

Scrambling down the stairs, I catch a glimpse of my 12-year-old Ate through the window talking to a tall, thin, shy-looking teenage boy, who obviously has a crush on her. Sitting on the sofa are more friends waiting for me. "Gusto mong manguha ng duhat?" the little girl from next door, and my best friend for the summer, asks me. "Tara!" I quickly answer. We rummage around the kitchen looking for old ice cream containers that we can use to hold the precious little fruits we were about to gather. "Nay, lalabas lang po kami. Mangunguha kami ng duhat!" And then I run out of the house without a single care in the world.

*********

"Nay, gusto kong maligo sa ilog."

My lola's house sits right in front of the river that eventually leads to the Pagsanjan Falls. I have seen some kids swimming there, and I cannot for the life of me understand why I am not allowed to do the same.

"Huwag diyan," Nanay repeats. "Madumi kasi diyan. Sa Lagaslas na lang tayo mag-swimming."

With light snacks and green mangoes in tow, some of my aunts, uncles, cousins and I board the small boat that will bring us to Lagaslas. The Lagaslas is an area of the river where the current flows rapidly downstream. Boatmen call it the "rapids". The tourist boats go through several Lagaslas areas before getting to the main attraction - the Falls. When we arrive, we jump out of the boat and set our food down on one of the cottages in the water. My foot hits the rocky bottom. "Ouch!" I cry. "Masakit sa paa 'yung mga bato." I try to walk around, but find myself have difficulty doing so. "Mag-tsinelas ka na lang," one of my cousins tell me. "Ingat ka lang kasi baka madala ng agos." I follow his advice, and gingerly step out into the water again. It's cold!

"Gamitin natin 'yung timbulan," another of my cousins call out. "Padala tayo sa agos!" Smiling widely, I shout out, "Tara!" I grab one of the inflated interior tires we rented, walk out to where the current begins, position myself atop the tire, and let myself flow with the rushing water, without a single care in the world.

************

"Eto o."

One of my playmates, another little boy in shorts and sando that look like they belong to his older brother, hands me a Piattos wrapper.

"Ano 'to?" I ask, and reach out to grab the bag. I could feel the bag moving in my hands before I even had the chance to look at it.

"Panahon na ulit ng mga u-ang! Tara, manghuli pa tayo!" he says excitedly. I look at him for a short moment, then look at the bag. My eyes widen. It is swarming with big, black beetles. "Konti pa nga lang 'yan eh!" he says with a tinge of pride. "Hanap pa tayo!" I break out into an impish smile and say, "Tara!"

We scrounge around plants and trees, looking for the biggest beetles we could find. Every once in a while, we find a small, golden version of the insect - the salaginto, for me, is a treasure. When we collect as much as we want, we go back to my lola's house and ask Nanay for some thread. We select the most vigorous of the beetles, tie a thread around its neck, and let it loose. "Para akong may saranggola!" I exclaim gleefully. I hold on the thread and watch my active u-ang fly, without a single care in the world.

***********

"Tita, ball. Tita, ball!"

Raine's voice brings me back to the present. She is holding out her arms and looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to throw her back the ball. I look at my hands and see the small, vinyl ball between them. Still a bit dazed, I tell her, "Catch!" She giggles in delight and tries to catch it. When she fails to do so, she runs after it as it rolls down the paved path.

Silently, I watch her. I see her pick up the ball and try to throw it upwards. She can't do it yet, and the ball just simply bounces in front of her. This sends her in another fit of giggles as she runs after the ball again. I sit down on the ground and continue to look at her. Her eyes twinkle mischievously, and then she starts to run toward me. Her angelic little face, so open and full of trust, of hope and of joy, was mesmerizing.

At what point in our lives do we lose that look?

"Tita, house?"

Suddenly, Raine is standing in front of me again. Beads of sweat line her forehead, and hair strands were both sticking to the side of her face and sticking out behind her head. She's telling me she wants to go back home, already happy after a half-hour of playing outside.

I give her a big smile, grab her soft little hand, and say, "Tara!"

And we walk down the street, without a single care in the world.