Thursday, October 18, 2012

Waffle Memories


               What is the typical Filipino breakfast? A fried dish and a sunny side egg on the side. Add coffee and it’s the perfect combination.

Somehow, waffles and coffee go well together too. Well maybe for people on-the-go when there is no time to hit the brakes for a breakfast.

When I was in high school, I had an on-the-go lifestyle. When the clock strikes six, students race to the university to get a first hand at submitting assignments or else you are at risk of losing precious points.

This, however, led me to the most heavenly waffle on earth. It had no brand name. It was on a simple aluminum cart with the price pasted on the glass lining. It was at twelve bucks a piece. Seems like a fair good deal.

When students were rushing to get their good fates, manang was busy making waffles for those who wish to catch a quick breakfast. She would pour the batter on the special molder. Manong, on the other hand, waits for customers as he reads the everyday paper.

Every day I drop by and make sure I hand them my twelve pesos in exchange for a brown paper bag filled with goodness. I wasn’t the only one. Teachers and school workers also had the same routine. The waffles were selling like pancakes.

I breathe the familiar scent of the batter as the smoke rises from the molder. The almost inaudible sound of the brush as butter is painted on the waffle completes the masterpiece. I inhale in for the last time before sealing the bag. Then I bid my thank you to manang and manong before entering the university.

Sometime in my four years, they were featured by the university’s school paper. It said that their marriage made them stronger as their main source of income was the waffles. In fact, it has sent their children to finish degrees in premier universities in Cebu. They narrated that they used to push their waffle cart around downtown, in strategic areas where schools are near. But because of their old age, they wanted to station in a university so dear to them – Cebu Normal University (CNU).
But after our 2010 graduation, I never saw manang and manong again. I never took the time to say goodbye.

Now that I have come a long way since those childish years, I wanted to pay both of them a visit. This time, with twenty four pesos in my hands. I was ready to give the other piece to my colleagues in UP, to brag of their blissful waffle.

I approached the cart and saw another person brushing the waffles. I questioned.
 He said months after we said goodbye to CNU’s walls, manong passed away because of a long time disease. This left manang alone in their waffle business. But manang didn’t want to risk her arthritis. It would be hard for her especially that her partner is not with her anymore.

Tears fell. I never said goodbye and my final thank you.

I could have said, “Thank you manang, you make the best waffle in town.” I never even had the chance to get their names. All this time I call them manang and manong.

It was a friendship left, a hanging marriage.

They could have spent the last moments together at the newly opened senior citizen’s park. They could have enjoyed the company of fellow elderly without having to think about the business that kept them running. It was a beautiful project they could have made the most of.

It could have been a bit better.

Sooner or later, we’ll age and evolve from waffles to scrambled eggs in the luxury of my own home.

But for now, I’d gladly take a waffle bite and say, “Thank you manang and manong for making the best waffles in town”.

**Published in The Freeman Newspaper on October 16, 2012

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