My 80's Route

I'm not the writer of the group. It was the K of Jakers. So I hope she wouldn't mind that I went first in telling the public part of our story. I'm not so sure exactly what level in our elementary days that happened - we melding as friends. It was sort of like little girls finding each other's company fun and tolerable. There were six of us in the beginning - J, A, K, E, R, and S. One short, one tall, one skiny, one plump, one curly, one straight. We were a mixture of various characters, too. One shy, one bold, one brave, one cold, one jelly, and one's a bit old. We weren't the pretty girls around but our mix made us popular in the crowd. Thinking about it, we were rather such an odd mix. But we liked each other a lot and grew up loving each other profusely.

The JAKERS metamorphosed into an expanded group of young ladies with double Js and double As. Later, the new J and A eventually replaced the old J and A as far as attendance to group activities was concerned. Now there were two writers in the group with the new J around. She eventually finished Journalism at UP Diliman and is an editor of a Filipino paper in San Francisco. And the new A had this super very funny laughter sound that freaked us out of our wits. It was like a lady villain's sarcastic huh-huh-huh in a higher pitch tone delivered in a sexy manner but with class. Can you imagine this? Try it if you can. Oh yes, it was similar to the jeepney laughing horn I used to hear before along Taft Avenue. But a lot classier, softer and sexier. And she was not kidding. It was totally her normal laughing sound.

Again, I am not quite sure when the house hopping began. I think it was in high school already when we had more freedom to stay longer in school or go home a little late after classes end. The original four girls remained so close to each other and would spend most of their time together. Bonding was a never-ending activity. We would usually walk each other home with stopovers for burgers and coke at K's house. Then we sat on the gutters of the small sidewalk of another to continue on chatting as if the whole day together wasn't enough to share our thoughts and feelings. My house was the last stop. But R, whose house is second and very close to mine would accompany me home and walk back to hers in the end.

Another route was when J's with us and we would decide to have a late afternoon snack at her grandma's famous grocery store cum refreshment bar. It was a landmark of our city that we now sorely missed because it closed down when J's grandpa got sick and eventually died. Her grandma whom she called Mamang later followed suit after selling everything they've got. We would walk along the main highway from school to the grocery store and eat our favorite chocolate and cassava cakes and halo-halo. There was batchoy, too. For this route, I would be the first to get home riding on a tricycle. Then R, and E, and K, the burger queen.

Then there was the last route. During days when we would rather linger in school until dusk, our option would be R, E, and myself taking the tricyle together while K goes home by herself. Betwen the four of us, hers was the farthest. For this route, the tricycle has no other option to take but to pass by the cemetery and this time R goes down first. Her house is literally beside a crypt wherein the back portion serves as their fence on one side. From R's house, E's and my house are equidistant. Hers a little farther down and right while one's in the subdivision just across R's house. But I would always be the last to get home. E was always paranoid that something bad would happen to her if she was left alone without company except for the tricycle driver. She was totally afraid of passing by the cemetery at night. Well, honestly, a was bit afraid as well but too smug to show it. Sometimes, we would opt to drop by R's place and again, chat for another hour or two, then E and I would walk our way home. However, we would still need to accompany E to the corner where she turns right towards her house. I remember vividly how, at 7 or 8 in the evening, after bringing E to that corner, she would sprint as fast as she could for maybe ten seconds towards her home. She was really one hell of a character. Well, recently, when we caught up with each other during one of her vacations from abroad, she drank herself to kingdom come and blow all over her hotel room.

The JAKERS were, in my sincere heart, true and real friends. We had these open fora held everytime we felt that there were problems between us. We would cry our hearts out and bluntly point out differences we think of each other. We were in a circle and prepared to take the bomb. In the end, we emerged stronger, closer and getter more mature bit by bit. No college buddies or new friends of mine can match the kind of relationship I had with the JAKERS. We were tight as Pacquia's fists but so different as a cat and a mouse.

We separated after high school graduation. Three of us went to Manila to study, E migrated abroad with her family, and the rest were left behind. Now, one's a lawyer, the other a journalist in California, two are government employees in our home city, one's a nurse teaching clinical instruction, the imigrant is I think working in a tax agency in Australia and married to an American, and the last one is currently a full-time mom, by choice, of a precious infant girl after working in New York' financial district. And of course, I'm a wage slave.

Now, there's my story.