Cebu Diaries: The Nangka house

A relative of a distant uncle fetched us at the airport. After maneuvering through what they claimed to be a rare traffic jam, we passed by SM Cebu for groceries and supplies. We had planned to pass by Morales St, where my cousin Ate Mafette lives, but we chanced upon her and Kuya Eric in SM's carpark. So then we decided to go straight to Balamban, my mother's hometown. The trip would take about 45 minutes to an hour via the transnational highway, a road going through the mountains, which cut the regular trip by half. We munched on barbecue-on-sticks and puso (steamed rice wrapped in coconut leaves), and Marthe had hotdog sandwich, as our van sped through the curving roads in the chilly mountain air. With Marthe and I singing, and Tita Yorn and Mama chatting, the 45-minute ride was a breeze.

Tita Yorn arranged for us to stay in Tito Tony Mendoza's house in Nangka (a barrio in Balamban). On the way there, we passed by Mama's family home, where her eldest brother, Tatay Gody (as we call him) is now based. I noticed that there were too many children who went out to greet us but I didn't recognize any of them. Tatay said they were neighborhood kids who came to watch TV every night, but I later learned that some of them were nephews and nieces of a woman who stays in the house as well. Who she is and why she "lives" there is a big question.

Tito Tony's house in Nangka is very lovely. Tito Tony is a retired doctor who has lived in the US for a long time and has decided to retire here. He bought several pieces of land and houses in Nangka and in Liloan (his hometown) and refurbished them. He bought this Nangka house from a perennial gambler, a widow who has inherited large properties that were sold one by one to finance her vice.

The Spanish-style house was made of wood and was several feet above the ground, allowing for some kind of activity underneath the floors. The space was open so dogs, chickens and cats can walk through and rest there. The house itself had a large sala, dining room, bedroom, and windows with sliding capiz panels. The sala opens to a porch and balcony, and the bedroom also has sliding doors leading to a veranda/balcony. Antique chandeliers made of mother-of-pearl hang in the dining room and porch. There was a small altar in the sala and in our bedroom. And there was a TV set, with a set-top box, a component and I think, a DVD player, but am not sure and didn't care to ask. After all, I was here to be away from all the electronics.

The property was surrounded by mango trees on all sides, as it used to be part of a mango plantation. Kuya Tony, the husband of Tito Tony's cousin, who is now the main caretaker of the house, planted flowering bushes and orchids in front of the house to give it a more cozy ambience. His garden in front, just underneath the porch and balcony, was a welcome sight to us stressed city sleekers.

We had beef stroganoff, brocolli with dried fish, salad of lettuce, cucumber and wild tomatoes (also known as cocktail tomatoes), and puso for dinner. Halfway through dinner, the lights went off. So, brownouts are not limited to Manila. Kuya Tony, Tito Tony's cousin-in-law who so graciously acted as our tour guide, driver and host, fetched some candles. Candlelight dinner in an old house isn't bad, reminiscent of the days when there really wasn't any electricity yet. But when the brownout goes on for more than an hour, boredom sets in.

Marthe and I had a bath and sponge bath, respectively, before going to sleep. The bathroom and toilet was fairly midsized but very adequate. It has a shower cubicle and lavatory and it flushes well. It is, by the way, a double-door bathroom. One door is located in our bedroom, the other door is the entrance to the same bathroom from the hallway. When we entered the bathroom, we had to lock the hallway door first so others can't enter. And when we're done, we have to make sure we unlock it or others won't be able to enter at all. This setup appears to be ingenious at first, until you realize how complicated it becomes when one is forgetful.

Long after Marthe has dozed off, I lay in the huge four-poster bed (without curtains), marveling at the raw beauty of this house and how blessed we were to have relatives generous enough to lend it. This is beginning to look like a real vacation. It's going to be.