THE ONE NIGHT ONLY LAMAY SA TONDO SUB CULT EXPERIENCE: an indie film in words...

Prologue: Do I really have to go? 

My officemate's mother died. Problem. Her funeral wake was going to be in Tondo. If you live in suburbia, you just don't go there. Growing up, you were taught that the toughies who will eat you for breakfast... well... they all live in Tondo.

 So that came to  my one-track, prejudiced mind when when I learned that I have to go to the heart of Tondo. I thought of danger, goons, gangs, dirt, cramped space, shanties and hordes of people who might have not heard of the words "family planning."

I was right. And Wrong. I got out in one piece and didn't lose anything. But boy, the [m]ass of humanity. The place was one big Pinoy everyman party. I bet condoms didn't exist in that part of the world.

Part 1: The Taxi Ride from QC to Best Friends Pares, Moriones St., Tondo

When you come from QC, you'll just know it when you hit Manila. It was a different, "unparalleled" universe. Darker. Cramped. Dirtier. I really felt like I was in a Lino Brocka or Brilliante Mendoza poverty porn movie that gets raves from pseudo-critics at the Cannes Film Festival. To while away the time, Ego and I thought of cliche' movie plot lines. Ever heard of Scorpio Nights [both the remake and the original]? It looked that way. Our main character was a bar girl who grew up in these very streets and lived in a cramp household.

One observation as we neared our destination: even the young kids who walked the streets in packs started looking slutty early.

Finally we reached Best Friends Pares --- a place where we stood out like sore thumbed tourists. I wanted to bring out my phone to take a shot of the "scenery" and the restaurant sign that said "Wanted: Fried Man/Back up [what the fuck was that right?]" but decided not too for fear of looking too geeky and getting our ass kicked by the mythical goons.

Part 2: The Pedicab ride from Moriones to my officemate's street

Ever been on the "Pirates of the Caribbean" ride in Disneyland... where you ride a boat and you see slices of Pirate life? It felt that way riding my Tondo Amusement Park ride --- the pedicab. I saw the ugliest parlor gays, people watching TV outside the living room, men drinking gin and more "life" moments. A jukebox played "Together Forever" by Rick Astley and our pedicab driver gamely sang along. The 80s may be dead. But it's alive, zombie style, in Tondo. 

Part 3: At my friend's house slash funeral wake

Orange juice in tetra packs. Check. Ensaymada. Check. Boy Bawang. Check. San Miguel Beer. Check. Kopiko candy. Check. A Pinoy funeral is just not complete without those.  And we gobbled them all up because it was all part of "tradition."

Inside the house was the coffin. I was forced to see my officemate's mom lying in state because the living room simply wasn't big enough. On the walls were my officemate's works of art. By the looks of it, he is the family's breadwinner or the most successful child. But that's by our standards. It might be different in Tondo. 

We hung out outside the house, across the alley in an elevated area. My friend was like the Godfather of the house. Younger kids kissed his hand. He ordered his nephew to buy stuff from the store --- beer and even LBM medicine [because one of my companions had a stomach problem that stopped the moment he put cannabis inside his system].

Snippets of conversation... how some of our parents died... having a third eye... the band scene... dead music bars... my friend's art history... how my friend lived through a fire that hit their neighborhood in the 90s and how they lived/survived after that... our "side projects"... hot girls... zombies... brilliante mendoza films... indie films... "hot" girls that walked by [okay talaga si ate ah]...

I drank one beer. Just one freakin San Miguel Pale Pilsen and sent a status message that I was drinking beer in Tondo. Hopefully it will make me tough in the eyes of my Facebook friends. Don't fuck with me ayt... I drink Pale in effin Tondo.

After around two hours, we said goodbye. Silently, I was happy I didn't see blood anywhere in my body hehe. I couldn't wait to get back to my crib in the "burbs."

Part 4: The pedicab ride back to a bigger street where there was a taxicab

Cut and paste part 2 minus Rick Astley's "Together Forever" hit disco song.


Part 5: The cab ride back to where we belong

This trip was ACTUALLY MORE DANGEROUS than my sojourn into the Tondo netherworld. You see, our old fart taxi driver was endlessly complaining that he was sleepy. And at times, he fell asleep at the wheel... almost. I wanted to drive the fucking cab myself.

Epilogue

It wasn't that bad after all. Tondo is just like Tandang Sora [where I live] with more people, sluttier looking kids, tougher hombres, smaller alleys and more cramped houses.

I'm glad I went out of my suburban comfort zone to visit a friend who just lost his mother. All I needed to do was let go of my pre-conceived notions about the Tondo sub cult. 

And now, I have a non-visual, use-your-imagination indie "film". Fuck Cannes, right?