CITY SCAPES

Makati is horrendous. Just thinking about it makes my feet ache, of which that blasted city literally gave me for the past week. I never dreamed of being there everyday. I just wanted that place to stay as my memories remind me of that city--- Starbucks, Music One, Powerbooks, Greenbelt 3, Timezone, Artfilms, Cinemanila, comfort rooms, stairs and brightly colored Christmas lights. Now, all these stuff  take on the benches of my memory in Makati, what comes to play are high heels, black tops, MRT, 5 AM, gray stairs, elevators and aching feet.  The city alienates me. It’s like an exclusive group of elite cheerleaders.

The problem with me is that I was a Quezon City baby. I was pampered by Quezon Avenue. I fancied Tomas Morato and Timog, breezed through West Ave. and circled the Circle. QC was my home and my play pen. It is my motherland and I feel like the city takes care of me as if some dusty hand around my shoulder. Everytime I stare at Quezon’s monument, I feel like its’ telling me to go forth and follow my dreams and you will be as high as me. Much as I raise praises for my abode, the city isn’t perfect. It has its fair share of stench in the form of hold-uppers in Araneta and Philcoa, flesh trade along Q. Ave and the Circle. Paulie, my friend, once coined Cubao as the armpit of Manila. Well, if you could see it now, Cubao has been using a deo-whitener.   

If Makati is like a distant relative that lives in Ilocos, Manila is like a close cousin,.  Manila is where I spent most of my scholarly existence.  After I graduated high school, I was aghast to know that I will be spending college in Manila. I was rude and judgemental for having the city personified as some kanto boy soaking sweat with grease on his elbow with a distinct mekaniko smell. I was right. And because of that, just like cousins, Manila and I became close. The city taught me to grease my elbow and be proud of my smell.   How can you not be taught? There are so many places that can teach you a thing or two about stretching one’s arm. Divisoria can get you mugged and at times mauled.  Quiapo is just as beautiful and as devastating. Recto breathes student life and skin death. Espana  is too busy and too darn flooded.

I know Makati is a big snob. I’m a bit snobbish too. There, we have something in common. I’ll try to befriend the city.