“Sometimes I wish I could just rewind back to the old days and press pause…
just for a little while.” – Unknown
***
I was born and raised in Bansalan, now a first class municipality in Davao del Sur. It was in this town that I came to understand the essence of life. Here, I experienced what life was like in an era devoid of gadgets, the internet, and Wi-Fi connections. In fact, we did not even have a telephone. The only means of rapid communication available to us was the telegram (unlike the version that the younger generation is familiar with today).
We resided in close proximity to the Miral River (from which the other name of the town came from). Washing our clothes was never a hassle; we simply went to the river to clean them. We also took our dishes there to wash. Bathing was done in the river as well.
Life was incredibly simple back then. Although we lacked toys to play with, we creatively fashioned banana stalks into makeshift armalites and guns. Sardines served as our miniature “vehicles,” and we repurposed discarded slippers, forming them into circles to serve as tires.
I attended Villa-Doneza Elementary School, located approximately 1.5 kilometers from our residence. I had to walk the entire distance from home to school, traversing a narrow path lined with coffee trees and then crossing a rice field before arriving at school. During the rainy season, I made use of banana leaves as my makeshift “umbrella.”
At the school closing ceremonies, our mother would accompany our father to attend. He was honored with the responsibility of pinning the ribbons that we children received. The majority of us were recognized as honored pupils.
My mother advised me against taking those ribbons home; instead, I was to wear them until we arrived back home. My father took great pride in our achievements. “I have to return to the stage several times to pin the ribbons on my children,” he would tell those who inquired about us along the way.
Our parents did not take us to a mini-hospital when we experienced fever or cough. If we fell ill, our mother would provide us with “mamon” (a type of sweetened bread) and royal tru-orange. On certain occasions, our mother would utilize “tuob,” or steam inhalation, which is one of the numerous traditional health practices found in rural areas.
During the summer, most children would visit the newly harvested corn fields where we would fly our kites. We crafted them using newspapers and coconut midribs; for adhesive, we employed cooked rice. The thread we utilized was that which is typically used for sewing clothes.
In the home where I grew up, we did not have electricity. Instead, we relied on kerosene lamps. At night, my father would ignite the petromax to provide us with better illumination. When it was time for us to sleep, he would extinguish it.
My mother had a knack for gardening. She gathered various types of flowers and ornamental plants, particularly several species of San Francisco or crotons. In our free time, we would propagate those ornamentals through marcotting. Alternatively, we would cut some branches of crotons and place them in bottles. After several weeks, roots would develop, and we would then transfer them to discarded cans of tinapa or milk.
These ready-to-plant ornamentals were brought by a neighbor and sold at the public market on Sundays. We children were delighted as we could earn extra money from our mother’s collection of ornamentals.
When our town finally received electricity, we were overjoyed. By that time, we had moved our home closer to a highway because my father had managed to open his own shop. He worked as a mechanic and had several helpers assisting him.
Our “new” home was located in close proximity to a university. During holidays and weekends, we occasionally visited the area to play on its grounds. At night, we would engage in a game of tubig-tubig on the highway, as there were very few vehicles passing by at that time.
Due to our parents’ inability to purchase a television, we would visit our neighbors to watch television shows such as Wonder Woman (starring Lyndra Carter) and Six Million Dollar Man (topbilled by Lee Majors). Although the reception was quite poor and in black-and-white, we still found great enjoyment in watching these programs.
In those days, Bansalan was significantly less developed compared to its current state. It was only after Edwin Reyes assumed the role of mayor that our town was elevated to a first-class municipality. This is not to suggest that previous administrations were inactive; rather, it may have been that the residents of Bansalan were not yet prepared for change.
Today, Bansalan has made significant progress. We now have multiple banks, hospitals, and large retail stores. Additionally, we boast a mall and a fast food establishment. Our community celebrates a festival known as Dorongan. During this event, many individuals – primarily pupils and students from various schools – engage in a street dancing competition.
Balutakay, which was once a hotspot for insurgencies, is currently flourishing with tourist attractions. There are numerous sites to explore, such as Sir Ped’s Café Mount Apo and the Twin Mountains. Thanks to the newly cemented roads, farmers can now easily transport their goods to the town center. The region is particularly known for its successful cultivation of cabbage, potatoes, green onions, sweet peppers, tomatoes, and carrots.
The coffee cultivated in sitio Neptune has gained worldwide recognition. It has received accolades from esteemed award-giving organizations, not only at the national level but also on the international stage.
Bansalan is also recognized for its commitment to organic farming. The Mindanao Baptist Rural Life Center, located in barangay Kinuskusan, has been implementing this farming system since the mid-1970s. Benjamin Lao’s organic farm is particularly famous for its production of coco sugar and coco honey.
Once a quiet town that I was familiar with, Bansalan has now transformed into one of the more progressive municipalities in Davao del Sur.
