Back in my College years, I remember; whenever it's time for our weekend-at-home or free afternoon, whenever Monico or Joseph, or both (our juniors) would leave carrying a huge bag, (which means either is going home) their classmates (usually Pao and company) would ask: "mag-aabroad ka?" (You're going abroad?) Somehow it's been a joke for their classmates in the Seminary to call our place "abroad." I was just lucky I'm a senior, and the juniors dare not mess with me.
Monico, Joseph, and I hail from Cay Pombo, Sta. Maria, Bulacan. To most of our colleagues, even to most priests, Cay Pombo is an "unknown land;" just like unrevealed terrain in an RPG. That is why they call it "abroad." The name of the place just sounds too weird for them; maybe too primitive. Say you're from Cay Pombo and you get a funny reaction; where in hell is that? But say you're from Sta. Maria, and your problem's gone (but then again, they'd ask, where exactly in Sta. Maria?)
But to come to think of it, Cay Pombo, the place where I grew up, is not very different from other places in Bulacan. We're not that primitive, you know? Our small barrio is somehow better off than other barrios. We're closer to civilization, closer to Manila -- compared to Hagonoy, Baliuag, San Miguel etc. And there are a lot more other places the name of which I find more amusing; like "Kalye Bungo" or "Kalye Walang Diyos," etc. I somehow find it insulting that people would make so much fun out of the name of our barrio, so much to call "abroad."
But now I realized, the barrio Cay Pombo that I knew, the place I remember, is just that now - an unknown land. Cay Pombo today is no longer the Cay Pombo I remember long ago. The barrio I used to call home had vast green fields around it. On those fields I used to play as a child. The roads where not too busy back then, we could run around and play on the streets. People in our small barrio then knew almost everyone. Know the surname of one, and you could identify all of his/her relatives. You would know that Villanuevas live in Malawak, the Mateos somewhere in Pasomil, The Guballas and the Marcoses near the Barrio School, The Reyeses somewhere in Looban,etc. Leisure to us was as simple as "tambay sa may kanto," counting or just looking at the vehicles that pass by.
Cay Pombo today is highly urban, I can be proud to say. It's getting famous now; you could read the name of our barrio if you're in Metro Manila, waiting for a bus (We have buses passing our small barrio bound straight to Makati.) Various shops abound in the commercialized "kanto." You may not even need to go somewhere else, say to a mall, if you need anything. You just might be able to buy what you need in the shops around. The roads are too busy, there would always be two to three Barangay Police to manage the traffic. The fields we used to play on back then have now houses; some had subdivisions built on them. These subdivisions in turn are occupied by people from all places and walks of life; our barrio is now full of "strangers." Looking for my home? Ask the people around, and I'd bet you would have spent hours before you met someone who could tell where I live. I just don't know the people, I do not know the place anymore.
So back to reality, Cay Pombo as I knew as a child is just that now, an unknown far away land or should I just say, "abroad."
(original article was lost. This is an attempt at re-writng an essay I wrote 3 years ago.)
