Scabs and rugrats

As I was perusing the Internet this morning, I came across a Russian LiveJournal account with this photo on it's banner. I smiled because I realized that in this world, there are still misfit groups like this that grow up learning about life's lessons as they earn more scabs on their knees and shins and elbows.

I was one of the boys that cruised the streets of our gated subdivision on his own bike every single day of the week. As soon as school ends, we all head home, change out of our school uniforms and meet up somewhere.

This is not a photo and me and my friends. 

During the summer, we would all meet up after breakfast, rest at someones house during the day when it's too hot , play outside in the afternoon and all get home as soon as it gets dark.

We knew what areas of our subdivision to avoid because there were dogs roaming around. We knew  the trees that we could climb, we knew which neighbors were nice enough to let us have fruits from their own trees and we knew where we can buy chilled water in plastic bags for 1 peso. We knew which walls to scale to go to the neighboring subdivisions.

We would visit the homes of the girls we liked, talked to them with their iron fences separating us, and if we're lucky and their parents are nice enough will be offered some mirienda, and be told that if we plan to court their daughters that we should do it properly, inside the house. Not on the street.

I wonder if my children will grow up with their crew. With his "barkada". In the Philippines, the idea of barkada or your group is largely responsible for teaching the sense of no man left behind, "walang iwanan". Everyone knew where the other one was. Everyone followed the leader, usually the oldest one in the group, even if it meant just a few weeks older. The eldest took care of everyone especially the youngest one. The boys will stand up for each other. They will face other boys and sometimes mangy dogs or older bullies.

They will help each other go over walls, fix their bikes and climb trees. Learn how to fish in the small ponds and creeks. Realize that worms aren't that disgusting, that caterpillars shouldn't be touched. Pornography was for shits and giggles and it was not a click away. Knowing how to fix your bike was a must and playing in mud is ok.

I'm trying to put myself in the shoes of the grown ups back on those days whom I came across when I was a kid, barely 10 - maybe even when I was 7 or 8. The security guards, the guy in the neighborhood store, the school bus driver, the local mechanic, even my friends' parents. I can't imagine how they saw me and why they would let me and the other kids just go out and roam around - how did they know that we will be back home later that day? We may be bruised and wounded a bit, but they knew we will be home.

We've had our share of accidents before. Maybe a trip or two to the local doctor. Maybe 10 or 12 stitches here and there. But you know what? No one blamed us. Our parents did not stop us from being who we were. We were just told to be more careful. And you know what? We knew that and we were.

We had video games back then, but we played with it when it gets too hot outside or when it's raining. We amused ourselves with playing street games, making makeshift basketball courts, playing hide and seek, swimming in the community pool, playing with fireworks, building kites and running in the rain.

Somehow I have faith that this life will come back. I can't imagine boys growing up another way. It builds character, and fosters all the value of taking care of one another, exploration, simple happiness, camaraderie, honesty and nonchalance.

Go forth, children with wounded knees, dirtied faces and calloused hands! The world is an adventure! It is yours to conquer! Just make sure you'll be home by sun down.