By Sara Miranda, Melbourne, Australia 19 April 2008 Sara works at the Monash University library. She comes home to UP and visits her relatives in UP Village. Sara used to live on T.Kalaw Street in Area 14.
Growing up in the 1960s
My parents sent me to Maryknoll for kindergarten, so I missed out on all the wonderful activities that my four siblings experienced – finger painting, singing Eency Weency Spider, I’m a Little Teapot, complete with actions and all the wonderful meriendas.
I was relieved when I transferred to UP Elementary for the rest of primary school. On the first day of school, I was filled with trepidation. One of my parents must’ve brought me to the school room. I was in 1-Kalapati. I knew only one other child, Mayi, who lived two doors away from us. Another little girl, C, was led in by her mother, crying, not wanting to be separated from mum. Here was someone who was even more frightened than I. Inspite of that inauspicious start, I did enjoy the next six years.
We were voracious readers. One summer, when my brother and I had chicken pox and confined to the house, Tatay brought home about 30 books and we devoured them all. Lilian Versoza was my first school librarian – a lovely woman, and always nice to the children, so unlike her successor who seemed to often yell at the kids.
After school we’d walk back to my parents’ office in the Chemistry department and wait for them to finish lectures. We would usually use the exit beside the Benitez Hall (Education) and walk behind Benton Hall (Business Ad) towards Palma Hall (Arts & Sciences). From time to time, after crossing the little street, we’d turn right and shiver through the airconditioned corridor of Business Ad.
Pavilion 4 was redolent with the smells of formalin. If we could stand the stink, we would wander into the Pav and look at all the preserved invertebrates and stuffed animals in the glass cases that lined the corridor.
Other times we would check out the fishponds – there was one beside AS101, another behind the lecture rooms and DZUP, yet another just behind Pavilion 1. There were waterlilies in the latter one, with bright pink flowers.
The pavilions were dark and forbidding, but the rest of AS was full of light. There were no security guards or grills in pre-martial law days, and we could wander around at will. There were lots of bougainvilleas, kalachuchi and kapok trees in front of AS and the lawns were always green and lush.
This was our playground in the period between leaving Elem and going home.
Once homework was dealt with we went out to play. Our backyard was big, that of the Ramos’s next door enormous. There were no fences around the houses so we could wander around to our hearts’ content, and even use the little street behind our house as a playground.
There were several trees around suitable for kids to climb. A guava tree in the back yard whose upper reaches were higher than the house, with big very sweet yellow guavas. In the front yard another guava tree that produced was hard green bullets, but it had low branches that a small child could easily swing up on and climb.
If we could muster enough playmates – Carla & Luis, Mayi & Juaniyo, Douglas, Peggy and Colleen – we would play habulan or taguan. Or we would play bahay-bahayan in the nipa hut that Uncle Jack had built in their yard, between our two houses.
Christmas time was always exciting. Not because of the sumptuous feasts and presents (which never featured much in our house) but because of all the music. Yes, there were the neighborhood carollers who would belt out Jingle Bells or sing a plaintive “. . . oli impan sa tinder and wild. . .” but DZUP rondalla and the UPSCA choir would come and entertain us.
The Rondalla did not come into the house but the choir did, staying afterwards for suman and salabat before going on to sing for others.
We had parols. Not the elaborate multicolored capiz ones that are ubiquitous today. Ours were handmade by Tatay, out of bamboo sticks and papel de Japon complete with frills and tails. When we were old enough we were allowed to cut and curl the frills.
We woke up before dawn to attend Misa de Gallo. It was always sung mass – Rosendo Santos’s, and the choir was conducted by Mrs Gonzaga.
Life was simple and revolved around school and church and simple entertainment. We were privileged to grow up in a place where there was plenty of open space and greenery and fresh air, surrounded by caring people.
Area 14 and most of Area 17 are now gone. Almost five decades on, we have maintained friendships throughout the years but we are also rediscovering and re-establishing many more, sharing memories and the joys of growing up in UP Campus.
My parents sent me to Maryknoll for kindergarten, so I missed out on all the wonderful activities that my four siblings experienced – finger painting, singing Eency Weency Spider, I’m a Little Teapot, complete with actions and all the wonderful meriendas.
I was relieved when I transferred to UP Elementary for the rest of primary school. On the first day of school, I was filled with trepidation. One of my parents must’ve brought me to the school room. I was in 1-Kalapati. I knew only one other child, Mayi, who lived two doors away from us. Another little girl, C, was led in by her mother, crying, not wanting to be separated from mum. Here was someone who was even more frightened than I. Inspite of that inauspicious start, I did enjoy the next six years.
We were voracious readers. One summer, when my brother and I had chicken pox and confined to the house, Tatay brought home about 30 books and we devoured them all. Lilian Versoza was my first school librarian – a lovely woman, and always nice to the children, so unlike her successor who seemed to often yell at the kids.
After school we’d walk back to my parents’ office in the Chemistry department and wait for them to finish lectures. We would usually use the exit beside the Benitez Hall (Education) and walk behind Benton Hall (Business Ad) towards Palma Hall (Arts & Sciences). From time to time, after crossing the little street, we’d turn right and shiver through the airconditioned corridor of Business Ad.
Pavilion 4 was redolent with the smells of formalin. If we could stand the stink, we would wander into the Pav and look at all the preserved invertebrates and stuffed animals in the glass cases that lined the corridor.
Other times we would check out the fishponds – there was one beside AS101, another behind the lecture rooms and DZUP, yet another just behind Pavilion 1. There were waterlilies in the latter one, with bright pink flowers.
The pavilions were dark and forbidding, but the rest of AS was full of light. There were no security guards or grills in pre-martial law days, and we could wander around at will. There were lots of bougainvilleas, kalachuchi and kapok trees in front of AS and the lawns were always green and lush.
This was our playground in the period between leaving Elem and going home.
Once homework was dealt with we went out to play. Our backyard was big, that of the Ramos’s next door enormous. There were no fences around the houses so we could wander around to our hearts’ content, and even use the little street behind our house as a playground.
There were several trees around suitable for kids to climb. A guava tree in the back yard whose upper reaches were higher than the house, with big very sweet yellow guavas. In the front yard another guava tree that produced was hard green bullets, but it had low branches that a small child could easily swing up on and climb.
If we could muster enough playmates – Carla & Luis, Mayi & Juaniyo, Douglas, Peggy and Colleen – we would play habulan or taguan. Or we would play bahay-bahayan in the nipa hut that Uncle Jack had built in their yard, between our two houses.
Christmas time was always exciting. Not because of the sumptuous feasts and presents (which never featured much in our house) but because of all the music. Yes, there were the neighborhood carollers who would belt out Jingle Bells or sing a plaintive “. . . oli impan sa tinder and wild. . .” but DZUP rondalla and the UPSCA choir would come and entertain us.
The Rondalla did not come into the house but the choir did, staying afterwards for suman and salabat before going on to sing for others.
We had parols. Not the elaborate multicolored capiz ones that are ubiquitous today. Ours were handmade by Tatay, out of bamboo sticks and papel de Japon complete with frills and tails. When we were old enough we were allowed to cut and curl the frills.
We woke up before dawn to attend Misa de Gallo. It was always sung mass – Rosendo Santos’s, and the choir was conducted by Mrs Gonzaga.
Life was simple and revolved around school and church and simple entertainment. We were privileged to grow up in a place where there was plenty of open space and greenery and fresh air, surrounded by caring people.
Area 14 and most of Area 17 are now gone. Almost five decades on, we have maintained friendships throughout the years but we are also rediscovering and re-establishing many more, sharing memories and the joys of growing up in UP Campus.
Sara's map of Area 14 and 17 and its residents from 1950's to 80's.
Reminiscing – T-1424
By: Sara Miranda UP Village
27 January 2008
Until I left for Australia when I was 21, all but 18 months of my life was spent in Area 14. I have only a few memories of our first home in Area 5; very little of the house, but I do remember ROTC parades in the sunken garden, and riding on a JD bus – the red rattler.
T-1424 was a big and airy house. Built by the US army as officers’ accommodation, it survived long beyond its anticipated lifespan of 20 years. There was a huge living room, with windows big and low enough for a little child to stand on a low stool and look out. In spite of the tropical heat, I don’t remember ever having to use fans. The ceiling and walls were sawali, with ventilation windows at floor level and near ceiling height. The roof was galvanized iron, on which the rain beat down heavily during downpours.
The two bedrooms had smaller and higher windows. To see out, I had to climb on a table, and even then had to tiptoe to be able to look across to the neighbors: T-1423 was occupied by a succession of foreign professors associated with the UP College of Education (Brunettis from New Zealand, Millers and the Driscolls from the US).
Our house fronted T. Kalaw Road. There were no houses across the street; opposite were the back yards/jungles of the permanent houses. There was a little path that would take you down to Fred & Ruby Mangahas’s house, Sunrise Cottage.
From the windows of our sala, we could see the hills of Angono. Nanay (Salome) even pointed out the Jesuit Retreat House.
At the back of our house, there was a little road that separated the houses, and a gravel track at the side that separated our house from the Ramoses, who lived in T-1425.
The garden had coconut, guava and several calachuchi trees. Later on Tatay (Ben) also planted a couple of mango trees – alas, we never ate our mangoes, the naughty boys from adjoining areas always pinching the fruit.
There were gumamelas, bushes of rosal that would yield bunches of their fragrant white flowers, sampaguita and kampupot, kamia, spider lilies that for most of the year were great big clumps of green strappy leaves then would burst forth with scented blooms. Amaryllis that would be nothing but bare earth for half the year, then bloom with its orange trumpet flowers in summer. Cadena de amor festooned the kalachuchi on the Ramos side, and there was a hedge of fake bird of paradise. San Francisco and gabi-gabihan in the shadier parts of the garden.
There were a few great big trees on the opposite side of T. Kalaw Rd. and such lush vegetation you couldn’t see the houses down below.
Tatay took a great interest in the garden, and dug a small circular pond by our front porch, complete with mini-waterfall. Our initial stock of fish came from Tita Nora Daza, whose sunken sala in their grand house in Area 1 left a great impression on me.
We weren’t very adventurous in roaming around the campus. Our playmates were our immediate neighbors: Carla and Luis Ramos, Mayi and Juaniyo Arcellana, Butch and Willy Baldoria, Joy, Maridel and Xandra Manhit, Robin and Stephanie Brunetti, Douglas, Peggy and Colleen Driscoll (Sean was born in Manila, but left before he could walk), Peachy Villanueva. Gemma Nemenzo was older, although I remember Dodong and Princess’s children playing in the backyard. The offspring of the dela Cruzes and Pinedas were also much older than me, but we got to know them better than other neighbors because their parents were ninangs and ninongs of my younger siblings.
Our games were simple: habulan, hide & seek; if there were enough of us, luksong tinik. A great treat was to go down by the canal fronting the Villanuevas after a downpour and race leaves or paper boats down the swiftly flowing water. Occasionally, there would be patintero on the street during full moon.
At various times we had people boarding with us: Nita Riguera Casimiro, Elmie Peralta Versoza, Mila Espejo Ignatz. Tita Elmie had great parties at our house, and all the Math people were there (this was a tradition they carried on for decades): Rica Panganiban, Flor Cejalvo, Manny Bendana, Remy David Santos (who lived down the road with the Guttierrezes).
There were no ikots on campus in the early years. Red JD and green Yujuico buses plied the Quiapo route. We had to walk down to the Admin building to catch the bus. It was a treat to be at the bus stop at 5 pm on Friday when the cannon would boom, the Carillon played and the flag was lowered.
From Admin to home was a long and hard walk for a child, especially up the very steep back road that ran between the Nemenzos and Gutierrezes, even more so when carrying the violin cases once we started lessons at the (then) Conservatory of Music.
Life revolved around school during the week, church on Sundays. In May, there were regular processions from the Chapel, going down by Engineering and ending back at the Chapel for rosary and floral offerings.
Simbang Gabi was something we looked forward to attending, in spite of the very early rising. A choir, conducted by Mrs. Gonzaga, sung the Rosendo Santos mass. This was also the music used during high mass. Putting words to music was a good way to learn the Latin prayers.
My first memories of priests were the American Jesuits: Frs Raymond Gough, Joseph O’Brien. Then came the Filipino Fr Pacifico Ortiz and secular priests, Frs Pat Lim, Ben Villote, Jess Galvez. Mila Espejo taught me to play the organ, and Fr Lim allowed me to play after communion.
After Sunday mass, we would go and buy newspapers from Mrs Arana; their house/stall was where the Shopping Center now stands.
We would visit houses of other UP residents. I remember going to the Lesacas, Agbayanis, Gonzalezes, Dazas in Area 1; the dela Cruzes, Pinedas, Canonizados, Gonzaleses and Damascos in Area 14, Loricas, Guerreros, Ching Dadufalza and Billy Abueva in Area 17. Billy and Cher Abueva’s house was fascinating, with all the sculptures and wall dividers of river stones encased in wire, and his Magnolia ice cream tin lamps. Of course there were the sculptures in the garden and carved wooden benches. In the late 60s Billy would drive around in a chariot drawn by horses. Maybe it is only my imagination that dresses him in the clothes of a Roman centurion.
In the cool mornings, Tatay would take us, dressed in identical pajamas, for a walk down towards the golf course, where we would see Dr Velasquez going on his run and doing his exercises. There were lots of what I called sunflowers (and now know to be rudbeckias) growing wild, and down by the creek, dozens of colorful dragonflies: from the tutubing karayom, to the great big ones that we tried to catch, and occasionally, caught. Butterflies ranging in size from fingernail size to almost a handspan.
Even as I was growing up, houses around us were being torn down. The Padlan and San Juan houses, next to the Executive House, were the first to go; gradually others were demolished, victims of various typhoons (the Arcellanas’s house was wrecked by Dading). T-1424 finally collapsed in 1980.
Today, scant traces remain of Area 14 and 17. Streets have been closed off, most of the houses are gone, vegetation has reclaimed the land and makes it difficult to recreate the landscape. But the memories remain.
By: Sara Miranda UP Village
27 January 2008
Until I left for Australia when I was 21, all but 18 months of my life was spent in Area 14. I have only a few memories of our first home in Area 5; very little of the house, but I do remember ROTC parades in the sunken garden, and riding on a JD bus – the red rattler.
T-1424 was a big and airy house. Built by the US army as officers’ accommodation, it survived long beyond its anticipated lifespan of 20 years. There was a huge living room, with windows big and low enough for a little child to stand on a low stool and look out. In spite of the tropical heat, I don’t remember ever having to use fans. The ceiling and walls were sawali, with ventilation windows at floor level and near ceiling height. The roof was galvanized iron, on which the rain beat down heavily during downpours.
The two bedrooms had smaller and higher windows. To see out, I had to climb on a table, and even then had to tiptoe to be able to look across to the neighbors: T-1423 was occupied by a succession of foreign professors associated with the UP College of Education (Brunettis from New Zealand, Millers and the Driscolls from the US).
Our house fronted T. Kalaw Road. There were no houses across the street; opposite were the back yards/jungles of the permanent houses. There was a little path that would take you down to Fred & Ruby Mangahas’s house, Sunrise Cottage.
From the windows of our sala, we could see the hills of Angono. Nanay (Salome) even pointed out the Jesuit Retreat House.
At the back of our house, there was a little road that separated the houses, and a gravel track at the side that separated our house from the Ramoses, who lived in T-1425.
The garden had coconut, guava and several calachuchi trees. Later on Tatay (Ben) also planted a couple of mango trees – alas, we never ate our mangoes, the naughty boys from adjoining areas always pinching the fruit.
There were gumamelas, bushes of rosal that would yield bunches of their fragrant white flowers, sampaguita and kampupot, kamia, spider lilies that for most of the year were great big clumps of green strappy leaves then would burst forth with scented blooms. Amaryllis that would be nothing but bare earth for half the year, then bloom with its orange trumpet flowers in summer. Cadena de amor festooned the kalachuchi on the Ramos side, and there was a hedge of fake bird of paradise. San Francisco and gabi-gabihan in the shadier parts of the garden.
There were a few great big trees on the opposite side of T. Kalaw Rd. and such lush vegetation you couldn’t see the houses down below.
Tatay took a great interest in the garden, and dug a small circular pond by our front porch, complete with mini-waterfall. Our initial stock of fish came from Tita Nora Daza, whose sunken sala in their grand house in Area 1 left a great impression on me.
We weren’t very adventurous in roaming around the campus. Our playmates were our immediate neighbors: Carla and Luis Ramos, Mayi and Juaniyo Arcellana, Butch and Willy Baldoria, Joy, Maridel and Xandra Manhit, Robin and Stephanie Brunetti, Douglas, Peggy and Colleen Driscoll (Sean was born in Manila, but left before he could walk), Peachy Villanueva. Gemma Nemenzo was older, although I remember Dodong and Princess’s children playing in the backyard. The offspring of the dela Cruzes and Pinedas were also much older than me, but we got to know them better than other neighbors because their parents were ninangs and ninongs of my younger siblings.
Our games were simple: habulan, hide & seek; if there were enough of us, luksong tinik. A great treat was to go down by the canal fronting the Villanuevas after a downpour and race leaves or paper boats down the swiftly flowing water. Occasionally, there would be patintero on the street during full moon.
At various times we had people boarding with us: Nita Riguera Casimiro, Elmie Peralta Versoza, Mila Espejo Ignatz. Tita Elmie had great parties at our house, and all the Math people were there (this was a tradition they carried on for decades): Rica Panganiban, Flor Cejalvo, Manny Bendana, Remy David Santos (who lived down the road with the Guttierrezes).
There were no ikots on campus in the early years. Red JD and green Yujuico buses plied the Quiapo route. We had to walk down to the Admin building to catch the bus. It was a treat to be at the bus stop at 5 pm on Friday when the cannon would boom, the Carillon played and the flag was lowered.
From Admin to home was a long and hard walk for a child, especially up the very steep back road that ran between the Nemenzos and Gutierrezes, even more so when carrying the violin cases once we started lessons at the (then) Conservatory of Music.
Life revolved around school during the week, church on Sundays. In May, there were regular processions from the Chapel, going down by Engineering and ending back at the Chapel for rosary and floral offerings.
Simbang Gabi was something we looked forward to attending, in spite of the very early rising. A choir, conducted by Mrs. Gonzaga, sung the Rosendo Santos mass. This was also the music used during high mass. Putting words to music was a good way to learn the Latin prayers.
My first memories of priests were the American Jesuits: Frs Raymond Gough, Joseph O’Brien. Then came the Filipino Fr Pacifico Ortiz and secular priests, Frs Pat Lim, Ben Villote, Jess Galvez. Mila Espejo taught me to play the organ, and Fr Lim allowed me to play after communion.
After Sunday mass, we would go and buy newspapers from Mrs Arana; their house/stall was where the Shopping Center now stands.
We would visit houses of other UP residents. I remember going to the Lesacas, Agbayanis, Gonzalezes, Dazas in Area 1; the dela Cruzes, Pinedas, Canonizados, Gonzaleses and Damascos in Area 14, Loricas, Guerreros, Ching Dadufalza and Billy Abueva in Area 17. Billy and Cher Abueva’s house was fascinating, with all the sculptures and wall dividers of river stones encased in wire, and his Magnolia ice cream tin lamps. Of course there were the sculptures in the garden and carved wooden benches. In the late 60s Billy would drive around in a chariot drawn by horses. Maybe it is only my imagination that dresses him in the clothes of a Roman centurion.
In the cool mornings, Tatay would take us, dressed in identical pajamas, for a walk down towards the golf course, where we would see Dr Velasquez going on his run and doing his exercises. There were lots of what I called sunflowers (and now know to be rudbeckias) growing wild, and down by the creek, dozens of colorful dragonflies: from the tutubing karayom, to the great big ones that we tried to catch, and occasionally, caught. Butterflies ranging in size from fingernail size to almost a handspan.
Even as I was growing up, houses around us were being torn down. The Padlan and San Juan houses, next to the Executive House, were the first to go; gradually others were demolished, victims of various typhoons (the Arcellanas’s house was wrecked by Dading). T-1424 finally collapsed in 1980.
Today, scant traces remain of Area 14 and 17. Streets have been closed off, most of the houses are gone, vegetation has reclaimed the land and makes it difficult to recreate the landscape. But the memories remain.
Batang UP Campus 60-70-80's by Candy Lagmay Bandong is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.