Barangay Cannery Site (Backspace in Time )

The back portion of the barangay hall

Way back in the mid-fifties 50’s when I was yet a boy I have a hazy memory of a place.  Seemingly uninteresting land with big stones, that looked from a distance as if carabaos were lying on their sides resting, or grazing.  “Sida-sida” grasses, as they were called ( If I’m not be mistaken), occupied a vast portion of it.  They usually grew after the area was harvested with some cash crops like potatoes, corn, palay, and others like leaf onions. These grasses when flowering made the scenery awesome because at an early stage its flower turns from yellowish to pinkish then red on maturity.  They were good playing grounds and hiding places for quails that abound in the place.  Quails were a good catch for food. 

Sida-sida grass

Some parts of the land that were not tilled were territories of cogon grasses and talahibs.  The place was often reached by fogs coming from the very impressive dark green and blue colored Mount Matutum.   Most mornings were cold and foggy.  But daytime can be warm.  Small shallow slopes lined the somewhat rolling terrain where a road from Polomolok Poblacion passed toward far-off farms.  Some part of the road was a little older for a path in size.  Usually, the only clearing of the road was where the wheel of a “vargas” type of “kariton” or wooden cart and pulling cattle usually passed.  The absence of rain for many days would make the road dusty that can be noticed only when it was foot-dragged when walking or the wind blew upon it.

Sida-sida grass

There was no source of water in the neighborhood.  Drinking water was carried usually by wooden carts from the artesian wheel at the center of the Polomolok.  Transporting water with “kariton” would mean carrying enough water for the carabao to drink also.  Bathing the carabao was at the Klinan River almost four kilometers away.  During the dry season, water was handled economically.  Washing dishes needed a basin to hold water for the carabao to drink.  Taking one’s bathe was on top of a basin or some container to hold water; again for the carabao to drink or to splash on it for its bath.  Never forget this large cattle it was a helper of a farmer.  Rainy days were happy days, the time of abundant water.  Galvanized drum acting as the water tank is readied to catch rainwater from an improvised gutter attached to a rust-eaten roof of a hut.  

Farm lots, that seldom have farmhouses, were of twelve hectares.  Neighboring houses that were most of the time is used only during planting and harvesting time, were far from each other.  The sound of twittering quails and the whizzing of the wind were music to the ears of a poor, young boy like me.   We planted cash crops.   I can still remember how, together with my older brother and my widowed mother,  ran to and fro on all corners of our corn field driving away swarms of locusts that were trying to make a landing.  It was nearing twilight and if ever the pests could make their touchdown they will sleep there and it will be goodbye for the corn. 

The place has lots of bittersweet childhood memories for me.  I love this place.  This place is Barangay Cannery Site.