What is the earliest memory you can recall? It was my childhood, for me. I remember when I started first grade and our school was at the top of a mountain. We had to hike all the way up, I remember when school was over and we went down the mountain through the slope and just slide down to the bottom. I remember the games I used to play with my classmates. When the bell rang and we gathered at the flag pole to play tag or tandem tag, it was an unforgettable moment because we were trying our hardest not to fall onto the field, which was muddy and watery. If you fell, your white uniform would be ruined. Every afternoon after school, you'll see youngsters chasing each other down the mountain, or we'll go to another area for a bigger field to play games like tumba lata/tumbang preso (a game playing with tins), shatong (a game playing with sticks), Chinese garter (a game playing with an elastic rope), tag, slipper games, and luksong tinik. It was the late 1990's and early 2000's and people in our village didn't have mobile phones, WiFi, or other modern equipment in their homes at the time. Our village is located far from the city, in the province area, and life was basic back then. My mother used to chastise me for not returning home on time, and occasionally my school uniform was filthy, either with mud or dust, depending on where we played. Our village is small, everyone knows everybody, and some of my classmates are also my neighbors. When it rained, the road we took was slick and muddy. My cousins and I used to live near a river and we would go there together. The older kids in our area will bring their water buffalo after work and play by the river. My father used to take my brother and I there when we were youngsters to catch some fish. Our house is made of wood and the roof is made of metal sheeting, hence it gets very hot in the summer and is very noisy on rainy days. It wasn't that old, but it shook a little when my father walked by. We often wonder if it was caused by the wind or an earthquake. I remember there used to be a very large Narra tree (Pterocarpus indicus) in front of our house, it was older than me, some old people say it had been there for decades. When that tree blossomed, the ground was filled with yellow flowers and the smell was amazing. It was hard to forget. There was different local birds and different flowers in each house. I think the mothers in each household are competing for who has the most beautiful garden. My neighbour had a large Guava tree that we used to climb from their balcony and pick some ripe guavas. The houses in the province are made of wood and elevated from the ground, and every house had a balcony. I recall there was a Macopa tree in front of my cousin's house, and when it bloomed, the ground was covered in pink blossoms. The kids in the neighborhood loved to play beneath that tree, and my uncles and father would join in the fun. It's not every day you see adult men playing marbles. Each house has a well of water that local men will help dig. It was dug in the ground and they made a wood fence around it to avoid falling into the well of water. Sometimes there are some accidents like when my niece fell into the well and she needed to grab the big roots of the Narra tree that was sticking out. My nieces and nephews are around the same age as I am. My cousins are nearly my parents' age. I recall one of our neighbors watering the Marang tree (Artocarpus odoratissimus) with his pee for a whole night. The ladies in the area will continue to chatter about him pouring his urine on the tree. His excuse was that he wanted his Marang tree to grow sweet fruit. Life was so easy back then. Our enormous challenge has now become a small problem; when we didn't have any firewood, we would walk to the prohibited mill with other neighborhood kids to gather some wood. In our village, there existed an abandoned mill. Illegal logging was a significant source of revenue for some people. I remember enormous trucks coming from the mountains full of logs, and the rivers were also almost full of logs. I recall the river gradually drying up until only a small pond remained for the water buffalo to dip in. I remember a clean creek behind my cousin's house, which we would cross on our way to my aunt's house and to gather water from the mountain. During the rainy season, my father would go to that creek to catch some frogs. There was also plenty of natural food to be found in that village, aside from the fruits, such as mushrooms, taro and cassava as well as a variety of other wild fruits.
When I was a kid, my father took the whole family to the mountain to visit some relatives. There used to be a big waterfall where we got fresh water. We would go hiking and my father and uncle would be carrying a gun for hunting because there were wild monkeys and big birds in the mountain at that time. My father belongs to the Mandaya tribe, one of the indigenous people in the Philippines, and most of his family members live in the mountain. We were traveling barefoot, and when we got hungry, we would stop by the side of the river where my uncle would swim and catch some river shrimps and fish by hand, using only a basket and a piece of wood. I recall the taste of the meat, how we cooked our rice with bamboo, and how they built a fire near the river. At night, you will only hear insects and thousands of fireflies, the only light in the darkness, there was no electricity, what they had was a makeshift torch when you go outside or a lampara when you go inside the house. There was also a flashlight, but not everyone had one back then. The air was clean, but birds and wild animals became extinct due to illegal logging. The falls and rivers in the mountains where we used to swim have dried up, and even the fireflies are dwindling. The dragonflies and butterflies that we used to catch as kids have vanished, leaving only spiders to hunt at night to collect and gamble with the other kids. The stream behind my cousin's house in the village became polluted after neighbors built pig cages along the stream and dumped their pigs' mess into it. The Narra, Marcopa, and other fruit trees have long since died or been taken down.
Nowadays, the kids don't know how to play outside; I wonder whether they still know how to play tag; their faces are only on their phones; the last time I visited the village, it was very different. The space that used to be packed with children's noises has gone quiet. Mobile games are popular among children, and it is not uncommon to see them playing on the side of the road. After Typhoon Pablo hit, the mountain, which was formerly lush in green colors, turned bald. People in the province would not have realized the significance of the trees if it hadn't been for the typhoon.
