I have no clear recollection of how old I was when I first went to a movie but I remember they were black and white. There were not a lot of Filipino movies that I could pluck out from memory but I remember distinctly two funny characters, Pugo and Tugo. They were this bald-headed duo that dominated the genre of comedy in the Filpino movies during my childhood and some of their hilarious antics I could still recall. There were also some scenes from English movies I remember vaguely but the titles and the actors have completely escaped my memory. As I child, there was a wildness in me that was always struggling for release and my movie adventures were some of those. But let me give you the essential background first.
Sometime when I was in 4th grade, we lived in the town of San Juan, a couple of miles or so from the barrio where we originally came from. We rented the back part of the first floor section of the Knights of Columbus building across from the town elementary school and just a couple of blocks away from the Catholic Church and the Mount of Carmel Academy where I started my 1st grade. The front part of the first floor was occupied by another family of Chinese descent who owned a restaurant in town. We had separate entry doors, theirs was in front and ours was in the back but we had to navigate first a wrap-around walkway from the entrance that led to our part of the building.
The Knights of Columbus building was a massive (in my child's eye) two-story structure with cement walls and flooring on the ground level. The doors were of thick heavy wood that moaned and groaned as if asking for a generous application of grease on its thirsty hinges when you opened or closed it. Our living area, though spacious, was a one-room affair, There was an elevated sleeping section that occupied about 1/3 of the place with bamboo flooring that seemed incongruous to the solid cement structure where it was housed. There was a single wide window with iron bars that was on that elevated area facing the elementary school and where we spent hours of people - watching activity during non-school days since there was really nothing else to do. We had no electronic toys and games like you do now, no phone, no TV, not even a radio because although the radio was already around, it was considered a luxury then and we did not have money to buy one. So my sisters and I would sit by the window for hours on end and observe people passing by as we played some silly games.
But a young child could only tolerate boredom to a certain extent. There was this boundless energy within me that was constantly struggling to escape, an untamed need to explore and test the world I was only barely beginning to discover. Unlike in the barrio where I was surrounded by a whole troupe of cousins and friends to play and spend time with, I had no friends to hang around with in town. I remember just one girl named Felicidad who lived on the street corner with her family. We were in the same class and she would sometimes come to the house and play but I did not particularly relish her company because she talked incessantly and tried to boss me around. There were other kids in the few homes in the area but they were either younger than me or they were boys. So I explored on my own, discovered the movies as a past-time, and invented my "kuya".
If I remember right, the local cinema changed its feature presentation thrice a week. Monday and Tuesday were for English movies, Wednesday and Thursday were for old Filipino films and Friday and the weekend were for new or recent flicks. The movie theater was located on the main street of the town, about 5 or 6 blocks away from where we lived. One Friday afternoon, right after dinner, I had nothing to do and my father was not home like on most Friday nights so I told my mother I was going to see what was showing in the theater. My father's absence was always a most awaited time because he was stern and harsh in manner and easy to punish during his bad moods that I normally stayed out of his way and avoided asking him for anything. My mother was also strict but her bark was worse than her bite and as a rule, the bull-headed streak that I carried for better or for worse tend to ignore her protestations. That Friday night, like a mule that was suddenly free of the fenced pasture, I hurriedly traced the way to the movie theater in fast, excited steps after I left the house. I soon got to the theater, liked what was showing, but I did not have a cent in my pocket. What to do? My enterprising nature resolved the issue.
I first watched discreetly the ongoings from the other side of the street and noticed the constant flow of people coming in and purchasing tickets. The ticket booth was on the left hand side of the small lobby where the moviegoers go first, got their ticket, then presented it to the door woman who was busy chatting with somebody, before entering the theater. There were people who came with children and I noticed the younger ones about my age were not given a ticket so I assumed they got in free. The door woman, who seemed totally engrossed in the conversation, did not pay particular attention to the children so I thought it was time to test my luck. A few minutes later, I saw a middle-aged man approaching the ticket booth so I hurriedly crossed the narrow street and stood behind him like I was waiting for my turn. I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible so I did not stand too close. After he purchased the ticket, he headed towards the entrance and I followed him a little closer this time like I was with him. He handed the ticket to the door woman who barely glanced at it, tore it in half and deposited the pieces in the little wooden box in front of her, then turned again toward the person she was talking with. She did not stop me, might not have even seen me, or probably thought I was the man's daughter, and without any problem, I was in!
I was almost giddy at my luck. I thought I was so clever. That started my disingenuous escapade to the movies every Friday night which left my poor mother in pins and needles until I came home. I told her what I was doing and she threatened to call the police on me but I knew she would not do it so it didn't stop me. She never gave me permission to leave the house but I did not care. I would just leave when her back was turned. Since I could not always find somebody to follow to the movies to get in free, I devised other ways to get in. One day, I told the woman at the door my mother wanted me to look for my "kuya" (means an older brother), though I did not have one, who I said was in the movie theater, because dinner was ready (hahaha, what a lame excuse!) and amazingly, she let me in. I could not use the same ploy over and over on the same person but there were 3 or 4 of them that rotated duties so I was able to use my little dirty scheme the same number of times.
But like the truism that all "good" things must end, my fragile luck stop on its tracks in such an unexpected way one ill-fated Friday night. It was probably close to midnight because I remember it was the last showing when I got out of the theater. I normally did not stay that late but for some reason I decided to stay on and finish the last showing. The streets on my way home were deserted and I was a little spooked because the street lights were far apart, somewhat dim, and did not give good illumination in some areas. I hurried on and was glancing around every so often but there was no one in sight. I could hear some dogs barking ahead and unfortunately they were coming from the neighborhood I had to traverse. Aside from ghosts, I had a great fear of dogs but the street I was on was the direct way home and considering the lateness of the night, I could not see myelf venturing to another farther and indirect path. As I neared the the sound of the barks, I saw a couple of dogs, one much bigger than the other, right on the corner of the last street before our house. I did not have any choice so with my heart hammering in my throat I rushed along. I did not want to run because I knew that with my short strides, those beasts would easily catch me. I had this scenario playing in my head that I was on the ground and those brutes tearing my little body in shreds and devouring the bloody mess! Absolute, unqualified terror clutched my whole being when the dogs started to follow me as their incessant barking continued. I looked back and saw them gaining ground despite my almost running pace. So as soon as my feet hit the wrap-around walkway leading to our back part of the building, I ran! To my horror, the dogs ran, too, but I was almost at our door. With the stroke of kind luck, the door was not locked when I pushed it without breaking a stride. I shut it with a bang a split second before the bigger dog caught up with me. My mother, who was still awake waiting for my return, got up startled and seeing the petrified look on my face and hearing the dog barks, asked me what happened. When I told her about my encounter with the dogs, my mother was unsympathetic and used my terrifying experience as a lesson on the consequence of disobedience. She even amplified my fears by saying that those dogs were probably not just dogs, that they were "aswang" (some kind of goblin), that if I did not stop my movie exploits something bad would happen to me. That ended my Friday night jaunts and my tall tales about my non-existent "kuya".
Funny how we learn the basic lessons of life, that we did not have a clear concept about as children, from experiences that affect us. Although at that age, I probably knew already that it was dishonest to tell a lie, I did not consider my actions as such. To me, it was just a game and was even a bit proud that I was adept at it. As I grew older, I gained a better understanding of those values and ideals that I ignored before and had the sincere desire to uphold and practice them - honesty, moral uprightness and integrity. I learned not only from the hand of experience but from the guidance of the kind adults that played an important role in molding my character during my formative years, particularly my parents and grandparents. I have always been headstrong, and I would frequently hear my mother, even my aunts, complaining about my obstinate character when I was young. Now, I look back at those cornucopia of memories, even those where I escaped with impunity and chuckle inwardly, glad that life afforded me with people and experiences as well as the Gospel of Jesus Christ to learn from, lessons of decency, righteousness, moral strength, and good, old- fashioned honor and integrity.
you got guts!!!!!
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