STREETFOOD

By: Iris P. Concepcion

Along a street strait where sausages and hotdogs are cut, dunk in oil and fried, eggs dipped in sticky cornstarch are coated and peddled for hungry tummies to be satiated.

Centered in this palate oasis is an old bookstore, Merriam-Webster. This encyclopedia-named nook does not sell much books these days. It has sanitary napkins and hair conditioner sold beside writing papers. This place has retained its merchandise arrangement since its, I assume, inception.

I was looking for handy notepads for me to dawdle my ink with. I have phrases readily flying like bats in my cranium that could not be contained sometimes. They must be written down at once when thought of. I also went inside this bookstore to buy a kid her plastic envelope since her old one gave in to the weight of her school books.

Daily, I train my eyes on objects that are worth scribbling about. I found one whoopee discovery in this bookstore.

I found a notepad (pictured above) that brought flashes of flashback in page form, turning leaves of sentences and scrawls as a tot, a petite kid wielding a pen instead of a doll. I imprinted these on bond papers, pads and eventually the enticing openness of walls. The Golden Gate sketch is a masterpiece; it is the same as it was, entirely.

I created a story using this writing paper via comic-form with the cliffhanger "Itutuloy" for the needed sequel on my thread. I though this pad is no longer existent, lost in the archive of manufactured goods.

When I saw this, I almost hit the roof out of my unmeasurable fulfillment. It only costs P5.00. as if I were transported back to that period where Teem was my favorite softdrink of choice, priced at measly 50 cents that time.

Thus, this particular pad is both a journey way back to my scribbling life through affordable access, comprising a series of historical glints and happy memories. I am glad it has retained its design, color and name tag.

I can connect this to a story of my childhood of yonder: I was born atop a dining table in a wooden house facilitated by a town physician and a midwife. This enabled me to write about my winged creature, Meth. I was a genesis of a dining experience, literally.

This is the reason why I am titling my piece "STREETFOOD". I came from that long line of germinating thread.

Some of the best dishes may be devoured in places where you need to walk to. It is worth the trek. I have tasted the worst fillet fish that could not come at par from a restaurant near FEU. I also found its counterpart from a street vendor. I have eaten siopao, palabok, chiffon with heavenly fillings and all forms of chicken parts priced below P50.00, accidentally discovered while striding.

My palate transaction here consists of suggesting better sauces as the vendor ferociously defends his concoction.

With this, I am adding thank you to my note list of daily blessings. This notebook, the affordable food and even as non-sequitur, my hunky Dads. And Moms.

An explanation to pictures:

The artwork of Cory has bats flying (Batman) and this was exceptionally rendered. For once, you thank the PCSO for using its coffers wisely. The third picture is a sketch of myself by myself in zigzagging strokes (similar to opaque cubism). I love my hair here.

The last one was an installed bag by the better other. The figurine wearing this had lousy clothes; the bag rocked mercilessly though. You must see this live. It could bring a neat smile to your face.

You can also read an article on today's Philippine Daily Inquirer that is not carried by its online version re: UST being the oldest university in the Philippines. It is written by a La Sallian historian, printed on front page.