December 29, 2010

Happy New Year!

They called me "Fountain." No, make that "Pawn-teyn." It was New Year's Eve, and the neighborhood brats heard me asking for the darn fireworks. The nickname stuck, and for the better part of my awkward teen years, I was known as Pawn-teyn on the street where I grew up.

I didn't complain, of course.  Why would I, when I had it a lot better than Bibi Ilay, Toto Maloto and Ella Botelya?  Despite the frequent name-calling and the occasional cat fights over turfs and visiting cousins, we grew up as friends.  Friends who shouted "siato" during siestas, played "iloy-iloyan" under the full moon and trooped together to Mrs. Amador for the komiks.

As I spend yet another year away from Molave Street, I remember the neighborhood boys and girls, some of whom I still meet.  I remember friends as well: friends far, near and in-between who remain friends nonetheless.  Who knows, I might just light a fountain for you guys!

And a happy 2011 to you, too!

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