Summer Tradition

Every summer in the late 80s, my brother and I would brave the midday heat and walk to our Lola’s house located right across the compound where we lived. Most of the summer days would be spent there. I would carry on one hand a plastic containing fresh shirts, shorts and underwear.

But in May, the 15-minute walk would have another purpose aside from an afternoon of nonstop playing with cousins and friends. For about an hour, we would seat in benches and listen to the good Word. An hour later we would carry out what we called “halad”. All of us kids would form a straight line and offer flowers, which almost always infuriate our parents and neighbors as we would pluck them from their gardens without permission, to the Virgin Mary. Then we would partake a small afternoon snack, prepared by a kind neighbor of Lola’s who I have not heard of since she and her family migrated to the US in the early 90s, and spend the rest of the afternoon until early evening playing, running, and getting involved in petty squabbling.

This would be our daily routine during the summer. At month end, we would all dress in our best clothes and parade through the neighborhood. I always look forward to this, not because I could wear my barong, but because gifts would be awarded to deserving kids after the procession. Gifts would range from notebooks with That’s Entertainment artistas on the cover to a Mongol pencil to a Panda ballpen to an intermediate paper.

All of us would receive gifts of course. And we would hand them to our mothers, who would be hovering nearby, as soon as we receive them and go off and play. And play we would. Summer was nearing its end and we wanted to squeeze every second of the remaining days when we were free to roam around and not worry about waking up early and making homework and studying.

Soon after the 90s arrived I stopped regulary attending this summer tradition. I sometimes would attend class but I would stand on the back – a meer observer. I felt like I had outgrown the tradition and felt contented observing from afar.

I wonder if the new millenium with its technology and cable television has made the tradition irrelevant. Extinct. I hope not.

And I almost forgot. We call this tradition, for the benefit of non-Filipino readers who may stumble on this blog of mine, Flores de Mayo.

This entry was posted in personal. Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Summer Tradition

  1. Sonia says:

    i joined every year until i was about, I don’t know, 14?🙂 It was fun…

  2. prinsesamusang says:

    i had a phase where i would also do the same, i was 9 i think? somewhere there. these days i would still see people do this, but most are grandmas. i wonder what will happen when all those grannys go byebye.

  3. Atticus says:

    urg. i had to wear a gown for that one. drat. buti walang picture. haha!
    which reminds me, i haven’t seen a flores de mayo parade lately.

  4. Nice. Kids had all the reasons to be out of the house back then. With nothing good to do inside, kids have a daily itinerary of the wilderness. It looks like nature has its way of offsetting everything. With the glut of home-oriented activities these days, the sun can shine at its mightiest any time of the day. I was bathing last night and I noticed that the moment I stopped the shower, I perspired.

  5. ewok1993 says:

    i remember that summer with special fondness. the summer i studied cathechism. the summer i learned the tradition of flores de mayo.

    my mother still follows this on her own.

  6. raft3r says:

    ah, the trauma, the trauma
    biktima din ako nyan
    nyahaha

  7. Skron says:

    Never had the chance to partake in Flores de Mayo. I’m allergic to pollen. So I just played D&D with my grandfather.

    Anyways, “That’s Entertainment”. LOL. Romnick Sarmienta and Sheryl Cruz. LOL

  8. Andy says:

    The best talaga yung mga notebook na sina Mane at Tina Paner yung nasa cover, haha

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s