Nostalgia

The family was seated around a table at the dining veranda of the Baguio Country Club, waiting for our orders for lunch to arrive. Looking around, I casually remarked: “This place has been renovated.”

My eldest daughter turned to me and said, “Ma, tell Yumi (my great granddaughter seated across from me) about your first trip to Baguio.”

“Oh, that was a long time ago. I was seven years old and the year was 1930.” By then the waiter arrived with our dishes. We proceeded to eat and the whole matter was forgotten.

This is what I would have told her.

One evening, in the summer of that year, my mother told me, “Your Tio Pepe and family are going up to Baguio tonight. He’s inviting you to join them. Do you want to go? He’ll pick you up after supper.”

I had heard of Baguio. It was a faraway place, up in the mountains, and some people were afraid to go up because of the zigzag, which was dangerous. But I was curious and adventurous by nature, and readily assented to the invitation.

My uncle preferred to travel at night to avoid the dust from the dirt roads. (All the car windows had to be open. There was no car air-conditioning yet at the time.)

After 9 p.m., upon hearing the knock on the door (no doorbells yet), I excitedly ran down the stairs, jumped into the car, and promptly went to sleep.

I was awakened by a cold breeze that entered the car. When I opened my eyes, what a magnificent sight greeted me—the light of dawn peeping from behind towering mountains completely covered with pine trees, and the Bridal Veil Falls cascading down from the top. The scent of the pines—unique, fresh, and invigorating—readily captivated my heart.

We were slowly climbing up Kennon Road which was narrow and just enough for two vehicles. When we reached the zigzag, I realized why many were afraid to use it. The ascent was steep, with heart-stopping curves, the road even narrower and without railings, just enough for one vehicle to pass. Thus, it became a one-way affair.

There were sentries guarding the road. We were stopped at certain outposts to allow the oncoming vehicles to pass before we could continue. This happened a couple of times, thus lengthening our journey.

At mid-morning, finally, Baguio! A small, lovely, clean town, a hill station built by an American governor general to escape the heat of Manila. That first trip was followed by many others in the course of time.

Nowadays the trip to Baguio is not long nor scary anymore. NLEx and SCTEx have shortened the time to half. Kennon and the zigzag have been cemented and widened considerably, and the sharp curves have become gradual inclines.

The downside, however, is that the mountains have been denuded, and the Bridal Veil Falls is only a sliver of what it was before. The pine trees that covered the mountains are no longer visible, and their refreshing scent is “gone with the wind.”

With time and progress, Baguio has become a commercial city, overcrowded and dotted with unsightly structures. The center of the city has lost its beauty and natural charm.

As I was writing this, my nephew Guy Syquia called up to say that he had just returned from Baguio (which he, an immigrant to Australia, had not seen in 15 years). “And how did you find it?” I asked. “Like Divisoria,” he replied.

With its cool climate, Baguio continues to beckon. Relatively speaking, it’s still a commendable place for vacations. I go up from time to time. But I no longer go to the market, which I used to enjoy before—too crowded, messy, with no parking space; nor to Burnham Park of happy memories. It’s full of food stalls, buses, and transient daytime visitors. And what is Session Road without Star Café and Dainty Bakery?

How I miss the old Baguio—clean, uncluttered, abloom with multicolored flowers, especially the everlasting (which has not lived up to its name) and redolent with the pure, spirit-lifting aroma of the pine trees. Alas! That pristine city is gone forever and I know, like my youth, it will never return.

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Lourdes Syquia Bautista, 93, is a retired professor of the University of Santo Tomas. She is a widow with 12 children, 27 grandchildren, and 21 great grandchildren.