By Mortz C. Ortigoza
“I am a
follower of your Facebook Page. I always “liked” your posts,” a blond haired morena held my left elbow and told
me in Ilonggo inside the fish market of my town.
“Sino
gani kamo ? (Who are you by the way?)” I posed a question smiling.
“Si
Susan Soriano Agustin of Bialong. Classmate ko sang highschool si Glory Ann
Balajadia (I’m Susan Soriano of Bialong. Glory Ann Balajadia (a stunner-author)
was a classmate in the secondary school),” She retorted.
She told me to buy fish at the section
owned by her younger sister who became my school mate in my five years in high school
at the Protestant College in the rustic town.
“She’s the partner of Dalay ( a
successful businesswoman who lived in
Sitio Baluarte),” by referring to a mestiza looking woman, probably in her late
40s, named Marecon .
“Ano
apelyido ninyo?” I asked her.
“Lamintac “
“Ano
niyo si police nga Lamintac?”
“Tatay
ko”
“Baw
linte. Di ko malipatan si tatay mo rival ko ina siya kay Miss ABCD (controversial
lass who consorted with married men in the early and mid 1980s)( Damn, I could
not forget your cop father we were rival to that lady who was controversial),” I jested about my experiences in the middle of
1980s in the landlocked town dominated by Ilonggos.
Both Susan and Marecon and their pretty
niece Shaira Jean Soriano, probably in her early 20s, guffawed.
“Ano mo
si Ba-o (turtle in Ilonggo, woman’s private part among the Pangalatoks) atong ga
baligya ka isda sadto (How are you related to “Ba-o, the fish seller then)?
“Lolo
ko,” she quipped.
“Atong
Ba-o nga tiyo mo nga ga escuela sang college sa SBC (How’s your uncle Ba-o who
studied college at SBC)?”
She said her uncle Raffy, the pitch dark, susmariosep, funny
man who was a common fixture in front of the waiting shed at SBC , died a long
time ago.
***
This met up with my townmates happened while I was leaving our ancestral
house near SBC at dusk and I paced for exercise sake the almost one kilometer length to the Dako nga Balay
in the plaza, I stopped by the fish market located at the old Slaughter House
and yelled at Susan.
“Tag
pila bangrus niyo (How much is your milkfish)?
“P160
ang kilo,” the morena looking Susan said.
When I told her to give me two kilos so
Jenjen Laxamana Hermo, the Ilocana-Kapampangan operator of my brother’s Kamalig
Water Refilling Station, could cook sinigang
nga bangus, Susan gestured to the location of Dalay who was at another
section talking with two guys probably her gofers.
I went to Dalay and greeted her: Happy
Birthday to my rich trucking business person classmate.
We exchanged pleasantries until we
recalled our highs school reunion held at her huge bodega at Baluarte.
“I
saw you talking with Rodolfo Pioquinto, the proprietor of Rodencar Hardware who
was assassinated last year in his new shop in Barangay Sangat,” she
cited.
“Oo, he
is a friend in Pangasinan but married the daughter of former policeman Jaromay
of Barangay Langkong”.
I told Dalay he was there because the
four Fundadors I bought for my male classmates to quaff ran out at 10 pm.
“I
called him by phone to bring the new white pick- up truck he bought in
Calasiao, Pangasinan (the moneyed Torreja brothers of Sangat bought their Sports
Utility Vehicles (SUVs) in Pangasinan because they were cheaper- Author) and
buy me at his expense another four bottles of Fundador”.
When I was paying my almost two kilos of
bangus, Dalay scooped by her hands a P300 per kilo of tiger prawns and squids (pusit
in Tagalog and lukos in Ilonggo) from General Santos City and told me they are free
adds on since it was her birthday.
“He is a
journalist!” she crowed to all and sundry in the
fish market, located at the old slaughter house, to hear.
Wow. Thanks Dalay and Marecon for your
generosity. Time to go back at the Mercury Drugs to buy my
anti-hypertensive tablet Losartan because Jenjen, my niece by affinity, would no longer be cooking
Sinigang na Bangus but the sumptuous high cholesterol Sinigang na Pasayan,
sanamagan!
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