The games that we played
The Life of a Little Boy Growing Up in the ’50s.
THE SEQUEL (part II )
In the 50s, even a slight relocation changes the dynamics of culture and tradition within the same population. Since most marriages were with people from the same town, many would confine their moves close to relatives and workplaces’ security.
Children of the 50s seldom go anywhere else outside of school and home. Even though we were only less than half an hour (by jeepney ) to Manila, it just as well be a different country.
When we moved away from our seafront dwelling, it was only a couple of streets inland, yet it felt like we moved to another town. It was a busy street; one end was the public market, the parochial schools, the catholic church, and the municipal building.
The opposite way led to the barrio’s ( now we call barangay ) chapel, a rice mill, the public square with a basketball court, and an elevated earth-filled performing stage.
Socio-economically, this area was home to a mix of low to upper-middle-income cross-sections of the whole town. People walked, but later some front riding, pedaled tricycles came along. We had basic amenities, like electricity, running water at certain times of the day, no telephones, and paved roads ( except the main road leading to the city ).
Most houses had shallow open wells and septic tanks. Greywater ( laundry, kitchen, bath, and septic overflow) flowed on small open ditches, leading to a broader channel, eventually emptying into a river, then to Manila Bay.
ISTAMBAY
It was a rarity to have a big enough yard to contain the children. The street was one big playground for children and adults. Adults who were not working ( “Istambay,” derived from “Stand By”) would be out on the benches ( “papag“), bare-chested or half-dressed either petting a fighting cock, playing checkers, people watching, or seated with others engaged in “balitang kutchero” ( idle gossip ).
As innocuous as this may be to us, these loafers catch others’ attention who are not used to a population bursting at the seams. When my Newfoundland born son asked me, during a car trip to Laguna ( in 2017 ) why all these people along the route, seemingly just idling by, not up to anything, I reminded him of the difference in population densities (Nfld has 1.4 people per sq. km. vs. 358 in the Philippines ). The heat and the dank conditions in the inner sections of the “eskinita” are significant factors that force them out in the open.
SINE SUROT
Many games that we played were derived from action films shown in the only local theatre. (sardonically remembered as “Sine Surot.” The slatted hard benches were crawling with bed bugs. With no A/C, body odours, the reek of pee (we’re usually seated closer in front, near the washrooms ), and often standing room only, it could overwhelm the uninitiated.)
After moving to the new neighborhood, the earliest games I recall involved epic movies of actors like Efren Reyes. His film “Haring Espada” spawned us into a frenzy of bamboo swords. We would march around with towel capes, then simulate fencing skirmishes out on the streets and into people’s outside staircases.
Also common was playing soldier with wooden rifles and helmets ( real WWII variety ). It was nothing more than “bang, bang, you’re dead,” then feigning being hit with all the drama of clutching the chest and crumpling to the ground.
The inspiration was Audie Murphy’s “To Hell and Back. ” It seemed like we moved from one game to the next and never played different games all at the same time. Once we played “soldier” for a few days, another one comes along and takes over the old one.
A prevailing game in one part of town typically is the same game in another part of town. We were very creative with these games, and while some were store-bought, many were ordinary everyday things that became a toy (door hinges that can pop a cap or a wheel rim rolled on the streets with a stiff wire).
Still, some things became collectibles, hoarded, and sold ( bottle caps, Pitogo, rubber bands (used them to keep my socks up! ). Tex ( or pecs ) cards ( the forerunner of sports cards ) were a big hit for many years. More than just collecting them, it spawned creative ways of competition to win them.
We played many that were well established nationally. It includes Sunka, Piko, Taguan, Tumbang preso, Sipa, Patintero, Luksung Tinik, Sarangola fights, and Yoyo ( the modern Yoyo was invented by Pedro Flores, a Filipino ).
Around this time, somebody showed up with a gadget that uses a flat piece of bamboo about a foot long, and an inch wide with a couple of rubber bands tied on one end and the front held by a lever released like a trigger. The rubber band held a piece of cut pieces of cardboard about an inch square. So we hid and sought each other and hit with it.
“Sumpit” was a natural progression of that game, but this one stings and could have been severe if you are hit in the eye. A store-bought round metal tube, reminiscent of a blowgun but only about a foot long and no more than 1/4″ in diameter.
Mongo beans, about the size of a pellet, was the preferred “bullet.” So with a mouthful of beans, we would hide and seek and blow a stream of beans to wherever it can sting the most. ( as I recall, schools banned “BIC” ballpens because boys would take the inside out, put little wet rolled papers inside, and like a mini blowgun, hit whoever was convenient.
In an all-boys school, when half the class was in this madness, it could get out of control ) The boys seem attracted to anything involving targeting something with whatever gadget was available at the time.
Pellet guns were unaffordable during those years, but we made bows and arrows from bamboos. It seemed natural that a “tirador ” ( slingshot ) would become popular. We spent a great deal of time looking for a perfect “Y” twig from a guava tree.
The local “vulcanizing” shop sold recycled rubber from discarded inner tubes. Using stones, we would idle the hours targeting a can or a “Bato-bato” ( native pigeon ) and surface swimming “Kasusuwet” ( needlefish ) in the outskirts of town.
We played spinning tops ( “trumpo“) more than just twirling them. We would sharpen the nail end ( about the diameter of a 3-inch nail ) of the wooden top more than its usual point.
In a circle, two or more players would spin their tops. We would take turns hitting the tops to split it. It can be deployed with such accuracy and force to rip an opponent’s top with practice.
The girls did not engage in these games, preferring indoor activities like “jackstone” or “sungka.” They participated outdoors in “patintero,” skipping rope, ” tumbang preso” and “taguan” either among themselves or rarely with the boys.
As we grew older, more sophisticated games were being played, some involving money. We played “Lucky Nine” either with Tecs ( played like playing cards) or with a textbook. Two to four would play by opening the pages at random. In each round, whoever gets the highest number in the last digit wins the bet. It’s a favourite game at ( school ) recess, making sure the teachers were unaware of any betting.
SPIDER FIGHTS
And then there were spider fights. This one was a multifaceted activity that involved gathering, trading, gaming, and betting. House spiders (“Gagambang Bahay“) were a recognized “talunan” (loser), typically fodder for the vicious varieties collected from the mangrove swamps.
These had slimmer bodies, longer legs, and more color than those gathered under the houses’ eaves. The resolute collectors keep them in matchboxes with little divisions to house individual spiders in them. Determined players ( like me) had our boxes where we kept our collection.
We went around challenging other spiders, sometimes with little bets or just the satisfaction of winning a fight. In a typical match, a seven or 8-inch thin stick is first held in the middle, and competing spiders are coaxed at both ends.
Like boxers, meeting in the middle of the ring, the vicious ones immediately go at each other. The winner takes a bite and then immediately spins a web over the other. There was usually a circle of boys during these encounters. The winning spider was offered for sale at a premium.
This was the boys’ version of cockfighting. Like fighting cocks, I would take my winning spiders out of their little condos, exercise them by walking them up and down my arm, then put them in bigger “digs” (inside the matchbox ) with smaller house spiders and mangrove leaves for food.
As I recall, this was the one activity that I engaged in right up into early high school ( equivalent to a grade seven today ) about age 12.
Besides all the games and toys prevalent in the mid to late fifties, there were other frequent activities we engaged in that were more larks and pranks. TV was beginning to wean us out of the radio. This development had a significant impact on our quest for new diversions.
__ raiding the neighborhood fruit trees.
__ “mangkukulam,” “Kapre” and other folklores
__ “freak shows” and other Fiesta hysteria
I will explore these in the final sequel of “The Games We Played,” in the April 1 to 15 issue of BALITA.
edwingdeleon@ gmail.com