Out of The Many Places I’ve Been, Davao is the One I Now Call Home

I can’t wait to go back home to Davao City. We’ve been here in Manila since November and I am really itching to just go back home.

Funny.

I never would have imagined calling Davao home had you asked me about it in my 20s and 30s.

But it seems like I’ve lived in Davao for nearly 15 years now.

Heh.

Born in Tacloban, Leyte

Let me start with my birthplace: Tacloban City, Leyte.

Had it not been for my dad being reassigned to Tacloban City, I would’ve probably been born in Zamboanga like my sister.

But no, I had to be born a Waray.

Which is really funny because my Mom is from Zamboanga and my Dad from Cebu. So, ending up in Leyte was very unlikely.

But we ended up in Tacloban City, Leyte anyway and that’s where my life initially began.

My brothers were born there too.

Growing up in Tacloban, I felt different from my classmates because I couldn’t really speak waray like them. I was raised in a primarily Cebuano household and we rarely went out.

And if we weren’t conversing in Cebuano, we’d use English as the main language at home.

Tacloban is where I first fell in love, grew up, discovered who I was, got my independence, everything. And everything means that’s where I also experienced my first heartbreak, disappointments, loss… etc.

It’s also where I learned how to love music and find lifelong friends.

Tacloban may seem like a beautiful place but there is a darkness to it. Maybe it’s because we’re almost always in overcast. Typhoons regularly visit us so the sun being out all day was a luxury.

We lived a fairly comfortable, albeit an isolated life, growing up.

I had very few friends and summers were spent in Cebu, Zamboanga or Manila.

So eyah, because I was born in Tacloban City, I am technically a Waray.

Cebu: Just a Landing Point Before Heading for Simala

I never really liked Cebu City that much. It was always just the place where we’d land in, go to Banilad to visit our Tita Marilyn before getting on a van and heading for Simala.

Oh I loved Simala.

SImala is where my dad grew up and where my late grandmother Lola Mary lived. She was very old and yet she could tell us what books were in her library and what the book was about.

We loved spending time there because she would always make sure we were full.

And she let us have the run of the land.

As long as we were home before dark, we were ok.

She didn’t even get mad if we were a bit late.

I guess she was also used to having boys at home. Me, Earl, and Jappy were the equivalent of my Dad, Tito Wilbur, and Tito Junior, I guess.

Siocon, Zamboanga del Norte – a Land Filled with Childhood Memories

Although I was born and raised in Tacloban City, I have more childhood memories borne out of spending time in Siocon, Zamboanga del Norte.

That’s where I learned how to love agriculture and animals.

My maternal grandfather was a very strict man. He was quick to scold if you were seen slacking but just as quick to give you praises if he saw you carry your own weight around the house.

As a child, we were given household chores to do and we were expected to carry them out.

I learned to love that routine early on in life. From watering the plants in the early morning to the late afternoon (as long as it didn’t rain) to feeding the dogs and making sure they were given a bath every week.

That’s when I also learned how to have a better relationship with dogs.

I also had to wash the dishes and scrub the bottom of the pots using sand.

My grandfather found out that I wasn’t complaining and that I was just happily doing the things that needed to get done. That resulted in me getting things like a kite when I asked for one. Or a slingshot. A bike. A dog.

If I asked for it, he would more or less give it to me after asking the other helpers in the house if I was doing what I was supposed to with my daily chores.

Mornings were the busiest times because we would have to go visit the farm and do our rounds. We’d just get some hot cocoa and bread to it while en route to the farm and come back home at around 8AM to 9AM to prepare lunch.

Afternoons, we were allowed to do whatever we wanted. All we needed to remember was to be home by 5PM so we could wash up and help prepare dinenr.

I remember watching thousands of bats fly in the sky at around 5PM while waiting for the rice to cook.

My maternal grandmother was a school teacher and she was a little more lenient with us.

She was the one who taught me how to play Scrabble.

We’d have a game or two before it was time to sleep. She was a good teacher.

And I never lost my love for Scrabble because of her.

My childhood memories of Siocon were really good.

It was only marred by my falling out with my grandfather when I got older.

I wish I could turn back time and say I’m sorry for being too prideful.

The last time I was there was to bury my grandfather.

I was glad I went because had I not, I wouldn’t have been able to save his journals and the family albums that were thrown out as trash during his wake.

An Unexpected Turn of Life Events

Davao was never part of my life plan. But I ended up there anyway.

First I fell in love with Samal.

And then I found the career I wanted.

Fell in love.

Fell out of love.

Fell in love again.

Got married.

Had a son.

Fell in love with him.

Took over the management of a durian farm.

 Became obsessed with being a farmer.

Found my career as an SEO Specialist.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But because my son is a Davaoeno, I’ll be there for as long as he needs me and when he’s old enough, get on a bike and ride off into the sunset.

Maybe come back to Manila with him if he decides to study here.

That way I can keep an eye on him while cooking for him and making sure he maintains good study habits.

Or I could just find a piece of land in Davao and live as a recluse.

That’d be fun.

PS Just a few more days and I’ll be back home in Davao!