Last April, about fifty of my classmates came to celebrate the 40th anniversary of our graduation from St. Vincent’s High School, which was founded here in La Castellana, in the Philippines, by the Columban Missionaries. It was a one-day affair of fun and nostalgia, the Lettermen and the Beatles. We remembered the intramurals, the prom, the Friday night “jam sessions” – and also, with sadness, our departed classmates.
Many of the remaining now live far away and seldom return. So some of my classmates stayed on for a few days to visit the places of our growing up – the orchards, the river, and town plaza, among others. My classmates were sad to see the sparse “laguerta” (orchard) and the degraded state of the river where we spent so many happy days. The plaza brought out both sorrow and resentment. “What have they done to our plaza?” they said when they saw the disordered structures on what used to be a grassy park.
The question lingered in my mind. When they left I made it a sideline to investigate how the plaza came to its present sorry state.
The plaza is a three- acre open space between the town hall and the public market. It was constructed in the late 1920s, the design copied from a town in Spain. When we were growing up it was entirely covered with grass except for the bandstand and the dance space in the center. Shade trees and benches lined the edges.
The plaza was the hub of activities during town fiestas, and the venue for political rallies, cultural shows and free movies (which were the sponsor’s tactic for advertising its products). More importantly, it functioned as a daily social commons. In the afternoon it was full of life. Old people sat on benches engrossed in conversation or reading the day’s paper. People gathered around to hear the news read aloud. Some people went to the plaza to seek advice from local experts. Others were there to make a living selling finger food and handcrafted toys, or by shining shoes.
Teenagers in school uniforms sang, played guitar and practiced new dance steps. Others showed off their acrobatic skills. Children played with scooters, skates, stilts, kites, yoyos and other toys that they themselves made. Some played chess and checkers while others simply enjoyed watching other kids play.
The grass playground was the children’s most loved place. They wrestled, fenced with their bare hands, boxed (using gloves provided by adults who wanted to entertain themselves) and played tug of war, human pyramid, three-legged race, touch ball and other games.
I was 10 when the puericulture center near the plaza installed swings, seesaws and slides in its front yard. Kids trooped to the new playground with much excitement but soon got bored with the limited play offered by the manufactured playground. After a day or two, we went back to the grass where we were free to create our own play.
The grass playground was a social equalizer. There was no such thing as rich or poor when children were at play. Parents were at ease when kids played there. The soft ground kept them free from bruises and broken bones. The grass strengthened our friendships and helped keep us healthy.
The plaza today is very different from the one we remember. The grass now is covered with concrete and filled with structures – a two-story commercial building; a cafeteria, a grocery shop, a bus terminal and 15 food kiosks.
An elevated portion in the southwest corner is called the “Children’s Park.” Actually it’s another manufactured playground that has become a hang-out for adults. The reason is that a barber has set up shop there. The old bandstand is sandwiched between a basketball court and a stadium and looks as if it no longer belongs. The entire plaza is enclosed by an iron fence that seems to say “No Entry.”
The development aggression started in the late 1960s when the local leaders wanted concrete structures for a grandiose celebration of the 50th anniversary of our town. From there, new structures would crop up every now and then, until eventually, the plaza became the concrete bedlam that it is today.
I asked around for explanations. Some said it was simply the corruption that is so common here with “cement and iron” projects. Others said that it was just the well-intentioned mistake of a whimsical leader who had no childhood memories of the plaza. The only thing I know for sure is that public apathy is a culprit too.
It is a shame that children do not play in the plaza anymore. How could they? There’s no more playground; no more grass. They have to be content in the streets, gym and internet cafes. What is more heartbreaking is the children’s ignorance of what they are missing – a childhood full of natural, creative play.
People my age would like the plaza to be restored to its original state. Some local government officials agree but are worried about the cost and legal impediments. It would take a lot of resources and political will to bring back the original plaza but nothing could be nobler a task than restoring the hometown commons – particularly, the plaza and the grass.