Life of the Homeless

At Sitio Top Hill, Cebu City, there is always someone in each house who stays awake at night, boiling water for coffee. Ever since the attempted eviction of its urban poor residents several months ago, they have learned to be alert and keep their guard – to protect themselves and their homes.

BY JANE CATHERINE CHUA ROJO
Contributed to Bulatlat
Vol. V, No. 3, February 20-26, 2005

The place is called Sitio Top Hill – a highland locality just behind a not-so-popular golf course at Lahug, a village in Cebu City. One can reach the place on a habal-habal, a motorcycle that can accommodate at least four passengers, or a 10-minute hike from the corner where the jeepney trip ends. The path is winding, lined at both sides with small houses made of light materials.

Mornings in Top Hill are quite peaceful. Most of the houses are closed and the pathways are for most part devoid of passersby. Only once in a while do harried fathers appear, making haste to get to their working places.

The clock registers 6 a.m. in the house of Manang Pilar. Her husband Manong Lando, though still sleepy, forces himself to wake up. He washes his face and hurries to the house of Titing, the owner of the passenger jeepney he drives. He drives it for 15 to 16 hours every day, returning home at midnight with money that would last till the next day and his body tired and aching.

Next to Manang Pilar’s house is Isabelita’s. She is a 27-year-old mother of two little girls. Her husband is already out for work and she was cooking noodles for breakfast. After her little girls ate and went to school, Isabelita is left to wash the dishes, clean the house and roll the mat where the family sleeps. It’s already 8 o’clock when Isabelita goes outside with the basin filled with dirty laundry tucked beside her. She is about to start her washing when Manang Pilar approaches her.

“Mare, don’t you have clothes to wash?” Isabelita asked.

“There’s a lot in there but I won’t wash them yet. My illness has struck again.”

“So, have you taken your medicine already?”

“Not yet. There’s no money to buy one. It’s only now that your pare was able to drive again after his license was confiscated.”

“That’s right. That’s why he was here during the demolition. But you know, it was in fact good for you. Me? I nearly lost my mind. My partner leaves early on Fridays and Mondays. I could not leave Charisse because she was crying really hard. I could only watch while our house was being demolished. They turned it upside down. The roof became the floor. Too bad!”

“They were pests! Even though you kept asking them not to destroy the house because the owners were not there, they just kept on destroying, destroying, destroying… It was so frustrating because they were not listening.

“So that’s why you’re sick again?!”

“Exactly. And during the barricade, we keep on pushing ourselves forward. We didn’t care if we about the knives they had with them. We were not afraid. What matters to us was our anger towards them.”

“I was not able to join because the kids were all crying… they were all running. I picked them up one by one and brought them there because they might fall into the holes.”

“We were so pitiful. We had no money that time and yet that thing happened. We had to eat for three days at Mare Isis’ house… breakfast, lunch, dinner.”

“We did not eat, too. How could we cook rice when we didn’t even have any dwelling? We just rolled out some mats where we could rest.”

The usual gossip about the episodes of Lovers in Paris and Hiram (Borrowed), two very popular soap operas, has been replaced with talk about the real life drama in their community wherein all of them were actors.

Although the demolition took place months ago, it continues to be the topic of conversations in Sitio Top Hill.

Manang Pilar and Isabelita are still chatting when they hear a group of kids shouting, as if a mantra, the phrase, “Pulis… mang-demolis”

“They’re taunting the police again. Back then, kids were afraid of the police. Not anymore.”

“It’s their fault. Instead of ensuring peace, they would rather help those who demolished our homes. We were the ones who were abused but we’re the ones who were arrested.”

It’s already noon and so the women go to their respective homes to prepare lunch. Meanwhile, just below the plaza, stands the house of Manang Arlinda. The house has unpainted walls made of plywood and bamboo floors. It’s a small house, with no rooms nor furniture, just a few framed photographs hanging on the wall.

Outside that lonely-looking house, the air is filled with lively conversations. People young and old, sit under the shade while enjoying each other’s company. Students from the University of the Philippines (UP) are also present. It’s a part of their Basic Masses Integration (BMI), learning first hand the conditions of the masses by living with them for a brief period. All of them eat lunch together. The small house is filled with people squatting forming a circle. Nonoy, youth leader of the sitio, cooks the food. The students contribute money to buy rice, sardines, buwad (fried fish) and Odong, a cheap noodle brand.

Table talk naturally centers on the possibility of another demolition that week.

“Their plan is to organize four groups for the attack. That would really be tough because the barricade would be divided.”

“But there’s plenty of us. Everybody must help.”

“We would call a meeting so that we could plan very well.”

“We just have to make everybody understand that we really need to win because we don’t have any other home. We must think of our children.”

“Besides, most of us have our sources of income in the area.”

The conversations go on for few more minutes until the students finally decide to leave. Some of the residents stay to chat some more while some go back to their houses. Since the demolition, most of the people prefer to just stay in their homes. “Sige gyud kada adlaw mi magbantay… dili na lang gyud mag lakaw-lakaw kay mao may atake nila kanang mingaw bitaw na way tawo,” (We stay on guard every day… we seldom go out because they often attack when the place is empty) Manang Marissa explains.

In the afternoon, Manong Arman, the Sitio leader, calls for a meeting. By way of introduction, he talks of the time when Mr. Villalon, the original owner of the land they live in, was still alive.

“Villalon had visited us and had never asked us to leave. He would even say that when he sells this land, he would want us to be the buyer. When he died, we approached his secretary and she told us ‘Villalon had not sold any land. If ever this land would be offered for sale, you will be the priority because you are the ones who live in the place.’ The one claiming now to have bought the land is bogus because the titles that he is holding were all just Xerox copies and his map is just handwritten and is not even clear.”

All the residents share the same belief with their leader. They deem that Salud Young, the claimant, is not a legitimate owner. With that conviction, they are determined to fight for their houses. “Mag-andam gyud mi taman-taman. Bisag armado pa sila… dili gyud mi mahadlok.” (We would prepare really hard. Even if they’re armed, we will not be scared.) May-may declared.

In the evening, while most are asleep, there is always someone in each house who stays awake, boiling water for coffee. As Gina said, “Halos dili mi mangatulog dinhi. Kada gabii gabilar, nagabantay gyud.” (We hardly sleep. Every night, we stay awake… we always keep on guard.)

Thus, at 12 midnight, the silence that covers Sitio Top Hill like a thick blanket is ripped softly by a noise that is heard in almost every house – the sound of metal spoon against porcelain cup as it stirs the black aromatic liquid. Indeed, somebody must stay on guard. Bulatlat

© 2004 Bulatlat ■ Alipato Publications