Once Upon a Summertime

As we drove deeper into the town, I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the serene beauty of Lake Lanao of Tugaya and the bustling energy of the people. The streets were lined with small shops and vendors selling everything from fresh produce to handmade crafts. Despite the scorching noon heat, children could be seen running around and playing games, while adults were in groups, laughing and chatting with one another. We arrived at my father's childhood home after driving through the town under the bright midday sun. A cozy little house that was filled with memories and love. As soon as we stepped out of the car, we were greeted by the warm embrace of my Ina, who was the most excited to see us. "It's been a long time, mga apo! Your Ina misses you so much!" Grandmother exclaimed sweetly. My Ina, with her thick-rimmed glasses, white hair, and her traditional landap dress and turban style, was a familiar sight to us. Her grandchildren always delighted in seeing her carrying an old bag filled with chocolates. Despite her wrinkles and age, she was unfailingly gentle and kind to us. Upon seeing my grandmother, whom we affectionately called Ina, after such a long time, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Though we had always been close, I had missed her dearly during the time that she was ill. He always reminded us to be compassionate towards Ina, who had been hospitalized for over a month. When Ina returned to Tugaya, she refused to return to the hospital, fearing that it was a sign of her nearing death. Ama became visibly angry and frustrated with Ina, telling her that he didn't want to hear about it anymore. It was the first time I had seen him react that way towards Ina. I know what it means. I know that all of us would be six feet under, but if predicting accurately the exact future of a person or when they will pass away like Apollo and Tyche. I want to change bad luck into a fortune so that Ina can have her nine lives. Being in Ina's company feels like touching a soft pillow and listening to a familiar, slow melody. Her sweet voice makes me feel safe, and her love is so comforting that it makes me want to close my eyes. She has a deep understanding of my pain and is always there to help me feel better. Ina's gentle touch has a soothing effect, and she accepts my imperfections and mistakes without judging me too harshly. As I hugged Ina tightly, I could feel the familiar warmth of her embrace and the love that radiated from her. I was overcome with emotion, and I felt a lump form in my throat as I struggled to hold back tears. "It's so good to see you, Ina, I miss you" I managed to say, my voice choked with emotion. Ina pulled back slightly, and I could see tears glistening in her eyes. "I miss you too, apo aken," she said softly, her voice filled with love and warmth. I felt something wet on my shirt, and I realized that Ina had been crying. I hugged her even tighter, Ina smiled through her tears, "Glad to see you,mga apo aken," she said, using the term “apo aken” for a grandchild in Meranao Language. "Ina cooks piaparan a manok (a popular dish, made with chicken) and Ina wants her apos to eat right now," Ina said. "Yeah! Eat! Eat!" we exclaimed. We almost run to the dining table, jumping up and down. "Hey, kids, be careful," Aunt Bae says, looking at Ina. "Ina, you should take a break; Manay can do all the cooking," Aunt Bae says gently. One of Ina's children. My Ama comes from a family of five siblings, with Ama being the second eldest. Aunt Bae is the second youngest. Aunt Bae has two children, and I felt like I was looking at Ina because Aunt Bae is a replica of Ina. Manay, on the other hand, is Ina's caregiver, a widow in her late 40s. When my Aunts and uncles are not around, she looks after Ina. She has been with us for almost a decade. "Watakulay, Manay can cook whenever she wants, but today is special," Ina said softly. When Ina says watakulay means "my child", it sounds like she's being incredibly kind, and whenever I hear it, it reminds me of my favorite song, which I want to listen to again and over again. We sat down at the dining table, and I couldn't help but notice how well-prepared Ina was for our dinner. The plates and glasses she had set on the table were not the ones we normally used on a daily basis; they were reserved for special occasions. “How’s the trip, Abdul?” Ina asked Ama. “It’s good, Ina. Good to see you well Ina. We will be here for the whole summer” he answered. “That’s good to hear,” Ina answered. "Are you planning to do anything special this summer, B’dul?" Ina asked, looking at Ama. Ama smiled and nodded in agreement, saying “Yes, Ina. We were planning to visit Tala-Tala while we are here” Beneath the scorching sun of Lanao del Sur, a place where a sea of red sand meets the sky, Tala-Tala, the name it bears, is a sight to adore, a beauty so rare, so unique, so grand. Formed from volcanic ash and minerals over time. The red sand of Tala-Tala is more than just sand, a treasure of the Maranao, close to their heart. Oh, Tala-Tala, your beauty is a sight to behold, a wonder to cherish, a story to be told, may your red sand continue to amaze and inspire, and your significance forever aspire. Ina's face lit up with excitement. "It's become a tourist spot here, Abdul," she exclaimed. Ama chimed in, saying, "They've upgraded the boats, which I really love to see." Ina nodded in agreement. "But before anything else," Ina continued, "Don't forget to head to your Babo's house to pick up the Landap that I had embroidered with your names. It's for your daughters, the daughters of Mimi and Bae. I had to ask for your Babo's (Sheikha) help since my eyesight has worsened." "All right," Ama said. "How long did it take you to make the Landap you've created now, Ina?" Ina smiled, looking around the table at her children and grandchildren. "You know the process takes a long time. This particular Landap took me a year to make, and I always had Papay go to your Babo's house to check on the progress." Aunt Bae looked at Ina with surprise, "One year? That's a tremendous amount of time and effort, Ina. If I remember correctly, this is the longest you've ever taken to make a Landap." Ina replied with a smile, "Yes, I'm getting old and it's slowing me down. But on the bright side, it's finally done! I hope it was worth the wait." I was eagerly looking forward to receiving the Landap embroidered with our names, as it was my first time getting one. I've heard that making a Landap is a challenging process that requires a lot of hard work. The process starts with careful preparation of the materials - selecting the right cotton cloth, thread, and needle. Then, a design is planned, with great attention paid to the intricate patterns and colors that will fill the space. Embroidery then begins, with each stitch carefully placed by hand, a process that can take months to complete. Once the embroidery is done, the Landap is washed and ironed to give it a polished and refined look. Landap is a versatile garment that can be used for a variety of purposes. It's truly impressive that the makers of Landap have the skills and patience to create such a beautiful garment.