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HONORING MY MOTHER | BANKEROHAN

I never thought of it as an alcoholic drink before until I recently read about it at Google
University. From everyday school bus chatter I often heard from seniors during my early
high school days, it sounded more like an elixir of sorts, potent enough to energize
when you lack sleep, cure you of body pains and more important, effectively boost one’s
own virility for secret activities that were still largely unknown to us, post-grade school
graduates that were. Nevertheless, while we sat and listened, I vividly recall making a
solemn promise, I was definitely going to try Kinutil one day…

As it is explained in the widely-read digital book of Google, Kinutil, with roots in the
Visayas and Mindanao, is “made from palm wine (tubâ) with raw egg yolks and/or
homemade chocolate (tabliya). Some versions also add condensed milk, sugar, and
carbonated softdrinks.” So there, my magic potion in a nutshell.

But this piece isn’t really about kinutil (as you wouldn’t have guessed). Part of it’s about
going back to those innocent times when the freshmen burgis Ateneans in all of us
would yearn to make that adventurous trek ala-Frodo into the mysterious land of
Bankerohan. For us, the city’s foremost public market was where you could have the
best Kinutil concoction in all of Davao. Our seniors swore to it. With its maze of
alleyways lined with stalls selling almost anything under the sun, from fish to all kinds of
meats, vegetables or what have you, at the very center lies the food stalls, heart of the
throbbing market where magical Kinutil awaited.

Many years prior, during my pre-school days, I used to accompany my aunt there, but
only with the promise I would get to choose the DC and Marvel comic books I wanted.
That then was my most limited perception of the place, a haven to get comic books. She
would promptly leave me with store owner to check out whatever they had for the week
and when my aunt finished with her rounds, she’d collect me and we’d head for
Ponciano. Come to think of it, who leaves their children like that in public nowadays?

Eventually, in our fourth year, I and a small band sought out what had almost-eternally
been barked at in my head when we were younger. This wasn’t going to be my first time
to try tubâ. That was however under traumatic circumstances, sad to say. During one
frat initiation, I was commanded to finish half a gallon of it and then made to drop and
roll in Times Beach straight into the surf. I thought that was going to be the last time I
would ever taste it again. At Bankerohan, mixed with egg, milk, RC cola and sikwate

(chocolate), the kinutil tasted fine, then funny and thick to the throat at first. Then a few
seconds later, the warm feeling in my stomach caused me to perspire a bit, which I
thought was good, until I realized I desperately needed a toilet.

So much for those memories of Mordor, I say. Nowadays, whenever I go with the fam
and friends to buy fruits in season, I pretty much keep that old memory tucked away.
Instead, I now enjoy Bankerohan and its maze, as much as I also enjoy getting lost in all
of what’s exotic in Ongpin or Chinatown, but that’s for another time.

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