Tondo

I need to take a moment to talk about Tondo. Over the years the Filipinos always talk about Tondo being really rough, and the people are tough. I've known Filipinos who want to brag about being tough, so they mention they are from Tondo.

My family apparently never bragged about it because I did not realize this until recently, that my fiesty family is from the infamous Tondo.

All of the questions that I ever had about them were IMMEDIATELY answered. I actually get frustrated at times because there is no one in my family that will actually back down from a fight, and have no issues with speaking their mind. Although when we do fight, it starts and ends quickly. Most of the time.

I suppose when you grow up in a small and crowded space you have to end your fights quickly, because everyone is in your face.

Whenever I was in Tondo my cousin and I would take walks. Filipinos love to go "malling," and as much as I love a mall if I went into one more Shoe Mart I was going to scream.

My other cousin jokingly asked if we enjoyed our "educational walks," I didn't know how to respond to that and I just showed her the pictures I took.

"You make us look like we live in the slums," she says."

I didn't think that I did. I sort of resent photographers who make a career of taking pictures of poor people. So I explained to her that at some point I want to make a book about our family, and I wanted to capture the personality of the neighborhood. However, I can't deny that when I looked around I saw that this place was fucking nuts and the crazy part is, it just grows and grows.

My cousin mentioned that they have tried to clean up the area, but the progress is slow. Shabu (A form of methanphetamine) is a problem and has gotten in the way of potential reform. I'm sure there are other factors that are being mentioned or considered. There is so much to see, yet nothing to see. Building after building there are clothes, children, couples, animals poking in and out.

If you walk around Obrero there isn't a moment of quiet that passes you. The sounds of children, cars, shop keepers, fighting couples, are surrounding you. The noise is rises in that way when everyone is shouting at the same time.

The sound of Karaoke is synonymous with couples yelling and children laughing. I felt the stares, but I walked ahead. It was very clear that I wasn't from here. There were times where I felt that the stares were cold, so I would randomly smile at a child to see if they would smile back.

Before my Lolo died he specifically said that he wanted his house in Obrero to stay in the family. As much as my aunts do not understand why he wants to keep the house, in a way I do.

I suppose as our family gets more and more American with each new generation, there is at least one tie that we can keep that reminds us where we are from.

When my family talks about where they are from a neighborhood called Obrero. It wasn't to my awareness until this last trip that Obrero was in Tondo. I stayed here for a total of four days to spend time with my mom's oldest sister. She is the only one of the nine children that wanted to stay behind.

With a broken leg she is bed ridden, but with enough Filipino talent shows and telanovelas to keep her occupied with the day. I worry about her quality of life. Her environment is not ideal for elderly people with disabilities, but she refused to leave forty years ago and I can't imagine that she will ever leave. She is apparently the toughest out of all of us.

While I was there I couldn't help, but think about my Lolo.

During the last years of his life my Lolo would walk up and the down the neighborhood to chit chat with everyone. In his 90's he walked very, very slow. Being in the middle of the people typhoon that is Obrero, I can understand why he wanted to be there when he died. He didn't want to be alone.

If there is anything that I love about Obrero it's that even if want to be alone, you are never really alone. As I now sit in my mom's quiet house, that is probably big enough for 5 five Obrero families, I still can't believe we are from Tondo. We are not hood tough, but we managed to get through so much as a family. We have each other's back till the inevitable. I would like to imagine that this value is rooted in Tondo.

And I would like to say.

Tondo...... Jesus you guys are tough..... beautifully tough.