Happy Thoughts: Baguio
If you read my blog, then you probably know me, and if you do, you're likely to be a regular at my daughters' website, Sugar and Spice, because let's face it, everyone is much more interested in my daughters than in me. Anyway, if you've been there recently, you'll know that we went to Baguio a couple of weekends ago, on a semi-impromptu trip (just a little over a week's notice). You already know that we had our family picture taken in Mine's View Park with the view behind us, and that we made absolute fools of ourselves (well, it was mostly Mike) in Burnham Park.
What you probably don't now is that that trip to Baguio was something of a full circle weekend for me. And upon reflection, it mostly has to do with the house we stayed in that weekend.
(l-r Carlo, Norman, and me. Yes, I can tell the twins apart even as babies.)
When we were little, and I mean little, we used to stay in Nana Vicky's house in Baguio nearly every year. Some years, more than once. Nana Vicky is my Nana's best friend. They are very close that their children sort of grew up together and even up to my generation, we would go on vacations together. We're practically family. So Tita Vicky always lets us use her house when we go to Baguio. And a lot of the times we went up there, we were with Tita Linda (Tita Vicky's daughter) and her family. Tita Linda and Tito Noel and really good friends with my parents. They've moved to the States many years ago, but I still remember spending weekends in Baguio with them.
Every time we go there, we'd pretty much do the same thing. Go to Burnham to bike or skate, Mines View for the picture taking, Camp John Hay for ice cream and mini golf and the playground, and Wright Park to ride a horse. The same thing, every single year, and we never got tired of it. Especially the horses. It was a family tradition that faded until about the time Ia and Ayo were babies. Probably because travelling to other parts of the country became more of an option so we started going to Cebu or Davao or Palawan instead. I haven't been to Baguio with my family in maybe 15 years.
So I was quite excited when Mike suggested we tag along with him and Jerry for their meeting in Baguio. I was doubly excited when my Mom called Nana Vicky for me and she said we could stay in her house. All the childhood memories came flooding back because while horseback riding and sliding down the really tall twisty slide was a lot of fun, much of my memories of Baguio are about The House. During the day, when our parents make their morning trip to the market for fresh vegetables and meat, the three of us would climb down the back of the house to the "woods" and collect firewood. Which of course is just a couple of twigs and sticks, but will ostensibly be burned that night. Our contribution to the fire in the fireplace as we roast our marshmallows and bask in the warmth of the flame. It used to be sooo cold in Baguio back then, and after a long day of playing, our parents would have a hard time convincing us to take a shower at night. But the promise of a toasty warm fireplace after taking a freezing bath was enough to make us do it. And the wonderful heat was always worth it.
I probably went on and on about it to Mike that he went out of his way to make my childhood come alive for our own children. He even went as far as to pedal a tribike for Lia and me, something I don't remember my Dad ever doing, although maybe he did, when I was too young to remember. Mike had a difficult time with the bike that was three sizes too small for him, but we were laughing our asses off the entire time. Especially when we noticed that Lia would wave at no one in particular as we made our rounds around the Burnham park street. But more than anything else we did, including buying a real flute for Lia, I think they loved the house the most. Lia staked her claim early in the trip, calling it Lia's House, Lia's Kitchen and Lia's Living Room as soon as we arrived. She ran around and played and was just ecstatic the entire time. And Desi, I think Desi just wished she could run around after her ate. She loved it there too.
The kids are too young to have "roasting marshmallows at the fire" fantasies but I wanted to do it anyway so Mike and I bought a bundle of wood at the market and on our last night there, he was the Lord of the Flame and I broke out the skewers and opened a bag of marshmallows. Memories of warm cozy nights at the very same fireplace with my parents and brothers came wafting back and blurred together with the new experience of sharing that moment with my husband, children and their nannies. The hot cups of Swiss Miss just made the evening a perfect end to my first Baguio weekend as a Mom.
I've been to Baguio quite a few times in my recent adult life, for work, with friends, and with Mike. And we went to places I had never been to with my family, like PMA or Tam Awan Village, and those memories are special of course. But if you talk to me about Baguio, what will always come to mind, is Nana Vicky's house and happy times with family. In the many years since I returned, the house is smaller than I remember, the beds seem narrower. The wood floors are scruffier, the furniture shabbier, but it's just as fun, just as cozy, and just as inviting as it has ever been.
I hadn't realized it before but that house in Baguio, although we don't own it, and we don't go there very often anymore, is still, in many ways, a home. And I feel blessed and honored to be able to share my childhood with my own children.
Thank you Nana Vicky! We'll surely come back soon.
PS. Hi twins, sorry for the embarassing kiddie photos. At least I share in the embarassment since I'm in the pictures too. Hehe.
What you probably don't now is that that trip to Baguio was something of a full circle weekend for me. And upon reflection, it mostly has to do with the house we stayed in that weekend.
(l-r Carlo, Norman, and me. Yes, I can tell the twins apart even as babies.)
When we were little, and I mean little, we used to stay in Nana Vicky's house in Baguio nearly every year. Some years, more than once. Nana Vicky is my Nana's best friend. They are very close that their children sort of grew up together and even up to my generation, we would go on vacations together. We're practically family. So Tita Vicky always lets us use her house when we go to Baguio. And a lot of the times we went up there, we were with Tita Linda (Tita Vicky's daughter) and her family. Tita Linda and Tito Noel and really good friends with my parents. They've moved to the States many years ago, but I still remember spending weekends in Baguio with them.
Every time we go there, we'd pretty much do the same thing. Go to Burnham to bike or skate, Mines View for the picture taking, Camp John Hay for ice cream and mini golf and the playground, and Wright Park to ride a horse. The same thing, every single year, and we never got tired of it. Especially the horses. It was a family tradition that faded until about the time Ia and Ayo were babies. Probably because travelling to other parts of the country became more of an option so we started going to Cebu or Davao or Palawan instead. I haven't been to Baguio with my family in maybe 15 years.
So I was quite excited when Mike suggested we tag along with him and Jerry for their meeting in Baguio. I was doubly excited when my Mom called Nana Vicky for me and she said we could stay in her house. All the childhood memories came flooding back because while horseback riding and sliding down the really tall twisty slide was a lot of fun, much of my memories of Baguio are about The House. During the day, when our parents make their morning trip to the market for fresh vegetables and meat, the three of us would climb down the back of the house to the "woods" and collect firewood. Which of course is just a couple of twigs and sticks, but will ostensibly be burned that night. Our contribution to the fire in the fireplace as we roast our marshmallows and bask in the warmth of the flame. It used to be sooo cold in Baguio back then, and after a long day of playing, our parents would have a hard time convincing us to take a shower at night. But the promise of a toasty warm fireplace after taking a freezing bath was enough to make us do it. And the wonderful heat was always worth it.
I probably went on and on about it to Mike that he went out of his way to make my childhood come alive for our own children. He even went as far as to pedal a tribike for Lia and me, something I don't remember my Dad ever doing, although maybe he did, when I was too young to remember. Mike had a difficult time with the bike that was three sizes too small for him, but we were laughing our asses off the entire time. Especially when we noticed that Lia would wave at no one in particular as we made our rounds around the Burnham park street. But more than anything else we did, including buying a real flute for Lia, I think they loved the house the most. Lia staked her claim early in the trip, calling it Lia's House, Lia's Kitchen and Lia's Living Room as soon as we arrived. She ran around and played and was just ecstatic the entire time. And Desi, I think Desi just wished she could run around after her ate. She loved it there too.
The kids are too young to have "roasting marshmallows at the fire" fantasies but I wanted to do it anyway so Mike and I bought a bundle of wood at the market and on our last night there, he was the Lord of the Flame and I broke out the skewers and opened a bag of marshmallows. Memories of warm cozy nights at the very same fireplace with my parents and brothers came wafting back and blurred together with the new experience of sharing that moment with my husband, children and their nannies. The hot cups of Swiss Miss just made the evening a perfect end to my first Baguio weekend as a Mom.
I've been to Baguio quite a few times in my recent adult life, for work, with friends, and with Mike. And we went to places I had never been to with my family, like PMA or Tam Awan Village, and those memories are special of course. But if you talk to me about Baguio, what will always come to mind, is Nana Vicky's house and happy times with family. In the many years since I returned, the house is smaller than I remember, the beds seem narrower. The wood floors are scruffier, the furniture shabbier, but it's just as fun, just as cozy, and just as inviting as it has ever been.
I hadn't realized it before but that house in Baguio, although we don't own it, and we don't go there very often anymore, is still, in many ways, a home. And I feel blessed and honored to be able to share my childhood with my own children.
Thank you Nana Vicky! We'll surely come back soon.
PS. Hi twins, sorry for the embarassing kiddie photos. At least I share in the embarassment since I'm in the pictures too. Hehe.