by: Lumad Aloranon
ice drop dairy king popsicleDuring school-break, dozens of children-I was ten years old, make money buy-and-selling ice drops.
We buy it at 3 pieces for ten centavos and sell for five centavos each.
Back then, bus fare to Oroquieta, not a city yet, was only five centavos.
Do the math, that is five centavos profit for every ten centavos.
We typically start with Php 1.00, that is thirty pieces, and coming out of Alex Tavern, start plying our trade around town while waiting for a bus-ride to Aloran, our Exclusive Economic Zone.
You see, way before these world leaders even conceptualized EEZ, we, child-ice droppers, were already living it.
In my neighbourhood the league was composed of:
Jun Didong Bodiongan,
the grandfather, he was in the business the longest,
Loloy Celso, Juns younger brother,
Romeo Omie Regurosa,
Joel Yoyoy Avelino,
Roberto Bobit Avelino,
Zardo Roa,
Francis Boboy de Asis,
Stephen Epie Dado,
a few dozens more, making me impossible to name all, and myself.
In a good day, Php 1.00 net profit was quite easy, mind you, two or even three pieces you have to yourself.
But not every day is a good day. At times when the weather is so hot, ice drops melt, or when it rains, you can not go around selling.
That is when you end up having too much ide drop to yourself, bahala og lunod puhonan, basta lutaw guinansya, hehehehe.
Alex Tavern was in Oroquieta in what is now Oro Construction Supply, across BDO.
When ice drop is not available from Alex Tavern, we go to Jimenez where we can have them at the same price.
True, there were bad days, but overall, it was fun, not only that we had financial independence, now it is also a story
I can proudly tell my grandchildren, even including the worst thing we encountered selling ice drops.
Back then, transportation was catered mainly by a bus (truck-de-pasajero ni Peling, no idea who he was) and a mini bus, green, if I remember correctly, marking was Pacific Line.
We, (Omie, Zardo, Boboy, Epie and I) took the bus going home in the afternoon.
We were yet in Talic, not even a kilometre from the terminal, the bus broke down.
Everyone dis-embarked and waited for the minibus, last trip, to come by.
A while later, there it came. It stopped to pick up only a couple of the passengers, being almost full too.
I don't remember where the other passengers went to, what I will not forget though, is the five of us started walking back home.
It was pitch-dark, Aloran was not lit yet that time.
Omie, the oldest acted as the leader. He told us to keep our money safe.
I had my Php 3.00 hidden under the uhot inside my wooden ice box.
It was pitch-dark when we reached Pelong, a barangay in Aloran known for its ma-matoay (stone throwers).
At times we were holding hands, make sure not one is left behind.
I remember stepping on firewood (palwa) lined on the roadside for solar-drying that daytime.
We were already in Maular when suddenly I heard, aguy, so loud that scared the hell out of us.
Epie bumped into a steel telegraph post on his forehead, must be hard, we all felt the bukol on his forehead.
All our folks were worried but by the time they sent Along Butawan
later Padre Along and eventually Bishop Butawan of IFI
on a motorcycle to probe our whereabouts, we were already by the old bridge, we were home.
Not one of us remembered how long it took us to get home, to me, it seemed eternity.
We were all one though in our decision to stop selling ice drops, and venture to, something else.