The training which I received from my earliest infancy is perhaps
what formed my habits. I can recall clearly my first gloomy nights,
passed on the azotea of our house. They seem as yesterday! They were
nights filled with the poetry of sadness and seem near now because
at present my days are so sad. On moonlight nights, I took my supper
on the azotea. My nurse, who was very fond of me, used to threaten
to leave me to a terrible but imaginary being like the bogey of the
Europeans if I did not eat.
I had nine sisters and a brother. Our father was a model parent. He
gave us the education which was suitable in a family neither rich
nor poor. He was thrifty. By careful saving, he was able to build
a stone house. He also bought another house; and he put up a nipa
cottage on our plot of irrigated ground. The cottage was shaded by
bananas and trees.
At nightfall, my mother had us all say our prayers together. Then
we would go to the azotea or to a window to enjoy the moonlight;
and my nurse would tell us stories. Sometimes sad and sometimes gay,
nurse's stories were always oriental in their imagination. In these
stories, dead people, gold, and plants on which diamonds grew were
all mixed together.
When I was four years of age, my little sister Concha died, and for
the first time I cried because of love and sorrow. Till then I had
shed tears only for my own faults, which my loving, prudent mother
well knew how to correct.
I learned to write in my own village. My father looked after my
education. He paid an old man, who had been his schoolmate, to teach
me the first steps in Latin. This teacher lived in our house till he
died, five months later. He had been in almost perfect health and it
was at the moment of death that he received extreme unction.
In June of 1868, I went to Manila with my father. That was just after
the birth of Trinidad, the third sister younger than myself. We went in
a casco which turned out to be a clumsy boat. I shall not try to tell
how happy I was at each new stop on the banks of the Pasig. Beside
this same river, a few years later, I was to be very sad. We went
to Cainta, Taytay, and Antipolo, and then to Manila. In Santa Ana I
visited my eldest sister, Saturnina, who at that time was a student
in La Concordia College. Then I returned to my village and remained
until 1870.
CHAPTER II
My Schooling in Biñan
Biñan is a town about one and one-half hour's drive from my own town,
Kalamba. My father was born in Biñan, and he wished me to go there to
continue the study of Latin, which I had just begun. He sent me over
one Sunday in the care of my brother. The parting from my family was
tearful on the side of my parents and my sisters, but I was nine years
old and managed to hide my own tears. We reached Biñan at nightfall. We
went to an aunt's house where I was to live. When the moon came up,
a cousin took me around the town. Biñan appeared to me large and
wealthy but neither attractive nor cheerful.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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