Every time friends ask me how Tagon-ons spend their nights, I always say: sleeping!
“Are there coffee shops with Wi-Fi connection? Or resto-bars where one can eat, drink, and dance the blues away? Or a beach resort that turns into a sexual hotspot at a drop of a T-back and a thong?”
No, Tago has none of those. What it has is a beautiful park that Tagon-ons go to if they want to be seen. What it has are lonely streets that Tagon-ons convert into their sala as they bring out chairs and tables to swap stories until laughter dissolves to yawn. What it has are hole-in-the-wall videoke joints whose mike, aside from being ripe for sputum analysis, turns mute at 9 o’clock because if not, the neighbors, at the break of dawn, will hail the owner to court for public disturbance.
Whether Tago had a night life during their time, my parents did not say. But I remember playing hide and seek in what remained of Antioco Dumagan’s bowling alley that stood next to the house we rented at the central part of Tago.
I’m no owl and so I’m not supposed to care what becomes of Tago after dark, right?
Wrong!
When friends and relatives sleep over and I don’t feel like bringing them to Tandag for a night out, that’s when I wish Tago had something more to offer. But my town has become a business wasteland where establishments fold up faster than the owners can hang their mayor's permit.
Why is this so?
I've asked around and learned that Tagon-ons have attitudes that don’t allow businesses to thrive. While Tagon-ons love to wine and dine, they do it on credit and in a term as indefinite as Madame Auring’s menstrual cycle. What makes this unfair, my sources lamented, is that Tagon-ons don’t do this when they wine and dine in Tandag. This reminds me of an episode in the 80s, during the heyday of Tata Pilapil’s Kusina sa Tago. That afternoon she passed by the plaza and saw that some of her regular customers were playing tennis. She stopped to watch, and right then a player erred and said “Sorry” to no one in particular. As if on cue, Tata shrieked: “Kadayawi taraw nan iyo mga batasan nganhi sa tennis court kay igoay da maliwag an bola, magka kanat sa dayon an sorry. Bahaw pa sa taraw inin utang niyo sa Kusina sa Tago na paga pang agup-op na, way gayud inkabatian ko na ga sorry.” (Translation not available.)
Another reason is Tagon-ons’ buying pattern. Most salaried Tagon-ons work in Tandag and buy their needs before going home to Tago. Those working in Tago go to Tandag after office hours to buy theirs. [Going to Tandag has become easy for most Tagon-ons as they now have cars and motorcycles.] Even Dr. Edwin Garrido, during his last visit, had observed that Tagon-ons now have to go to Tandag for a pack of Ajinomoto or a clove of garlic.
But the gravest reason is the high cost of doing business. Starting or renewing an enterprise in Tago requires so much cash that Myrna Pontevedra has relocated to San Miguel where permit and license fees are lower and the business climate, better.
Reversing this sorry scenario requires a change in the buying and spending attitudes of Tagon-ons and a rethinking of the local government’s stance on enterprise development. Up until then, we’re stuck with a beautiful park, a lonely street and a hole-in-the-wall videoke joint.
No comments:
Post a Comment