These are my best recollections of my experiences, observations and thoughts
growing up in Butuan. They were for the most part pleasant memories. There were
some bad ones, but few to mention.
While growing up I was under the watchful eye of my strict but caring
grandmother, Macaria Atega. She was a love child of Cornelia Atega and Tomas
Montilla. Great-grandfather Tomas Montilla happened to have other liaisons with
women of the Aquio, Busa, Cassion, Cultura, Danoco and Duran
families. Grandmother Macaria was first married to my grandfather Angel
Burdeos, who died at an early age from some kind of infection. She later
married Canuto Rosales, a widower and former governadorcillo of Butuan, with
children from previous marriage. One of them was Elisa Rosales Ochoa, the first
Congresswoman of the Philippines. After some time, my grandmother became a
widow again; she died in her eighties.
I received strict moral guidance not only from my grandmother but also from my
parents who helped tremendously shape my character to prepare me to face life
in the future whatever that might be. They were there always when I needed
support, motivation and encouragement when I found myself in the midst of
trouble. They were loving and caring. My father, Ramon Atega Burdeos, was
deputy governor before the big war. He was known for his impeccable honesty
while working for decades in government. My mother, Manuela Mabasa Legaspi, was
a Miss Capiz in 1929. She was an avid player of mahjong, a game considered by
many as morally incorrect by the small conservative Butuan community. I have
two sisters, Felicidad and Ramona.
Our house was in the north end of Magallanes Street, close to the municipal
court of Judge Ricaforte and very near the wharf. When it rained heavily during
wet season, our house was flooded due to the overflow from the banks of Agusan
River nearby. When that happened, it was something welcomed as festive days for
the kids. They roamed or rode barotos (canoes) around the flooded streets. But
once the flood receded, the streets turned into a muddy place. In two days of
hot sun, the mud turned into dust. It became a nuisance.
Just before the invading Japanese Imperial Forces occupied Butuan, there was a
bandillo (public announcement) on every street intersection in town warning the
town folks about the coming of the enemy. One town person beat a drum while
another one, the town crier, read the announcement. It was the beginning of a
sad episode for the people of Butuan.
Upon hearing the bandillo my grandmother brought all her children, including my
father, to Magcasina, where she owned hectares of farm land. We stayed there
through the duration of the war which was referred to as the period of
"evacuation."
Sometime before the end of the war, we had to return to Butuan. My mother was
pregnant with her fourth child. A Dr. Manuel Santos offered to deliver the baby
in his clinic in Butuan. After the baby was delivered, we had to stay in town
because the baby needed a follow up care. A few days later a major turning
point in the war happened. The American liberation force, supported by Filipino
guerillas, attacked the Japanese elements in Butuan. We were caught in the
crossfire. We could hear relentless gunfire outside the house. We were all
terrified not knowing what was going to happen to us. After a few hours there
was a lull in the fighting. My father decided we all leave the house and go to
the bank of the river in front of Insek Vicente's hardware store. There we
would take a baroto ride across. When we reached the other side of the river,
there were guerrillas there, members of the attacking force, who ordered us to
get out of the way fast and go to Banza for safety where we went posthaste.
From Banza we continued to travel to Magcasina.
In a matter of days, Butuan was liberated. The Japanese had retreated to the
hills in Upper Agusan and farther south to Davao. We returned to Butuan to find
that most buildings had been destroyed including our house. Within days, the
rebuilding of the town began and the government was operating again.
The Japanese were later captured and brought back to Butuan. While they were
kept in jail, some angry Butuanons threw stones at them. The Americans were
alarmed and immediately put a stop to it least the unruly crowd turned into a
lynching party. The prisoners were ultimately shipped back to Japan. .
During the rebuilding of Butuan, public transportation to get around town was
limited to horse-drawn carriage, the tartanilla. And riding one was something
of an experience. Aside from rough riding, one might be unlucky and get a
sudden burst of unpleasant gas from an over-worked horse. For trips outside
Butuan , the Montilla Transportation of Mindanao (MTM) and Casenas
Transportation were available. Private vehicles were limited to the upper class
families. Very few had them. There were more vehicles for officials in higher
echelon in government like the governor, congressman, mayor, provincial
commander, treasurer, auditor and chief of police. A particular automobile with
a single-digit license number 8 was something that inspired awe if not
reverence because it represented power and authority in government. It was used
by the sitting Congressman.
After the Japanese had left, the town was remarkably peaceful. One could walk
anywhere - even at late night - without fear of being attacked or mugged. There
were times when I walked on the streets in Butuan late at night to accompany
my mother who was coming out from her mahjong session somewhere in Agao. We
were never molested or threatened in any way. Instead we received friendly
greetings like maayong gabii (good evening).
A few years later, I remember this event vividly, the fountain where the Jose
Rizal statue stood at the town plaza got a complete renovation. The water in
the fountain turned crystal clear. It was a tempting invitation for kids to
dive into the fountain for a swim, at dusk, when no policemen were around. The
fountain became a public swimming pool only for a short time for eventually the
policemen put a stop to the kids' shenanigans.
In May of 1950, the fiesta for St. Joseph was celebrated with many memorable
events. One was the selection and coronation of the beauty queen. The famed
Dangaso Brothers Band from Cagayan De Oro was hired to provide dance music. And
a local lady choreographer, Parad Paculan, provided folk dances for the
occasion. I was one of her dancers along with Tody Montilla, Ligaya Paculan and
many more. I was paired with the prettiest gal in town, Corazon De Jesus. She
was the object of interest and admiration by just about all the guys I could
think of. She was strikingly beautiful, soft-spoken and well-mannered. Her
father was a dentist and her mother was a high school teacher. During practice
sessions, I could not keep my eyes away from her. She was simply adorable and
fascinating. I tried as much as possible to be around her whenever I had the
chance. I got jealous when other guys would start talking with her. In the
end, I tried to woo her, but I was not getting anywhere. Nevertheless, I
enjoyed every moment I was with her. She was a doll.
I left Butuan in 1955 to follow the footsteps of the trailblazers Mario
Sibayan, Benjamin Fortun and Estaquio Tualla who joined the U.S. Navy. But when
I reported for training I was transferred to the U.S. Coast Guard. In 1960, I
was living in New York City when I learned that a certain dance troupe from the
Philippines was appearing on Broadway at one of the theaters. I went to see the
show and I was amazed to see two familiar faces that had major roles on the
show. They were of Veronica Atega from Cabadbaran and Corazon De Jesus from
Butuan. Believing that the time and place were right, I made another attempt to
woo Corazon, but unfortunately I was not successful. She was already committed
to a handsome man from Bacolod who was also member of the Bayanihan Dance
Troupe.
Looking back after so many years away from my beloved Butuan and no longer
under the watchful eyes of my grandmother and parents, whom I love, I would
simply say that I am doing fine after all those years because of them - Papa,
Mama and Lola.
