It was our yosi break during the dubbing. The dubbers made their way outside the studio to have a break as well. Since Mami Athena's pack of Philip Morris has all been consumed, we were forced to walk farther away from the building to find a vendor that would sell us yosi.
We found one, in a vacant lot beside the building. As I puffed my yosi stick, the vacant lot that is full of trees in front of us caught my attention. It was virtually a jungle, whose other end could not be seen from where I am standing. Then, I remembered an incident from my past. It was very dark and the place almost looked like the vacant lot covered by vegetation in front of me. At my back was the CCP Main Building, still solid and imposing which is a contrast to the whimsical architecture of the new building where the dubbing was being done. Remembering further, as if trying to squeeze something that is forbidden to be accessed in my mind, this place must be from my past. Some of the trees that are still standing after all these years might have been a witness to my juvenile attempts in settling a score with a horny stranger. This must be the gates of the Bakahan. I told myself.
We found one, in a vacant lot beside the building. As I puffed my yosi stick, the vacant lot that is full of trees in front of us caught my attention. It was virtually a jungle, whose other end could not be seen from where I am standing. Then, I remembered an incident from my past. It was very dark and the place almost looked like the vacant lot covered by vegetation in front of me. At my back was the CCP Main Building, still solid and imposing which is a contrast to the whimsical architecture of the new building where the dubbing was being done. Remembering further, as if trying to squeeze something that is forbidden to be accessed in my mind, this place must be from my past. Some of the trees that are still standing after all these years might have been a witness to my juvenile attempts in settling a score with a horny stranger. This must be the gates of the Bakahan. I told myself.
"Mami, diba marami kang mga friends na bading?" I asked her. "Yes Bebe," She replied. "Edi nakwento nila sayo ang Bakahan? Would you believe that we are standing in front of it?"
Unfortunately, she doesn't know what the Bakahan is. It was a legend I picked up from the grapevine a long time ago. But I'm sure it existed. Like the infamous Circle Of Life in Quezon City and the much recent Gubat in Puerto Galera, the Bakahan is an outdoor place where men who shares my preference enters its untamed jungle to address his carnal needs under the cover of the blackest night and the thickest of the trees.
However, I was too neophyte then to become part of the scene. I am a late bloomer you see. But there is this one incident, an unforgettable adventure my bestfriend and I have embarked in order to shed truth to the urban legend once and for all. And we discovered it by pure accident. Our own ignorance and (my) libido had led us to the gates of Bakahan, where trippers and closets would roam around the jungle wasteland in order to find a male partner, and hopefully do the undiscreet acts behind the straight-acting trees.
-tobecontinued-
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