Happy Birthday, Lola Ipay

     By the time I was 5 years old, I realized something that was so wonderfully special. I had the same birthday as my grandmother. Lola Ipay (Grandma Felipa) had about 50 grandchildren and we all adored her.

      On her birthdays, all my titas and titos (aunts and uncles) and all their spouses and all their children with their spouses and their children would attend. I grew up thinking they were there for my birthday too. Of course, I would have to remind them and so my titas and titos and cousins would feel bad that they had forgotten me and fish out anywhere from 5 to 20 pesos to give me. I made out with a lot of cash. This was way more fun than presents. It was way more fun because there was just so many of us.

     My mother was the youngest of Lola's 8 children and Lolo's...... well, I never really got the final score of how many children he had..... but we'll save that for a later post. So the older cousins were almost as old as my mother and their children were my age. This made for generational stratification that had absolutely nothing to do with age. We were all acutely aware of how many degrees of generation each one of us was from Lola and I had to address my older cousins with the title of "manang" or "manong" which really just means "older person".

     To the family, the generational thing was very important. Maybe this had something to do with how much a share of inheritance we would end up with? After all, Lolo had once been an owner of vast hectares of coconuts. He had been known as the "coconut king". But then he went into politics, and in those days if you went into politics, you lost a lot of money. Or so my mother said.

     On the fiesta that was held every year to commemorate my dead Lolo's birthday, the entire family would gather to celebrate in the big, old house in Medina, Misamis Oriental. To get there from Manila, my mother, father, baby sister, yaya, and me would take three days by boat to Cagayan de Oro, and then 5 hours by car on concrete, asphalt, and dirt road. Bathroom stops were side-of-the-road, behind the bush adventures.

     One particular birthday celebration stood out because it was the largest and another house down the street was rented to accommodate the overflow of cousins. The family had just built a gymnasium and dedicated it to the town in my grandfather's name. There were festivities culminating in a lavish program performed by all the cousins. One of my cousins was married to a beauty queen/actress who brought her celebrity friends, so the town was giddy with excitement. We performed skits and dances, and we sang. Although we generally danced better than we sang, our enthusiasm was spectacular. I performed as Gretel in "Hansel and Gretel". My cousins danced tinikling and sang pop hits.

     In the spirit of family and festivity, we all wore large ribbons pinned to our chests. We looked like contest finalists as they were red, white, and blue. The fourth generation, my cousins' kids, all wore white ribbons. The third generation, my cousins, manangs and manongs, and I, wore blue ribbons. My parents, titas and titos wore red ribbons. And Lola wore a huge bouquet of ribbon in red, white, and blue. While feeling so proudly familial, I noticed that there were others at the celebration who were just as beribboned, but in green and orange. I could not get an explanation from my mother as to what generation they were or how we were related, but yes, these were my titas, titos, manangs, and manongs too.

     It was 1966,I was 6 years old and loved them all. I held my Lola's hand because my birthday was the same as hers, and that was the most special thing of all. Today is my Lola's birthday. She died around 1970, I am not sure. After she died, we had one more large reunion, and slowly the cousins stopped making the long trip to Medina.

     (This is written the eve of my Lola's birthday.  Her birthday is on September 13.)