How sweet!

9^th of February

“Ang tamis!” (How sweet it is!) teen boy exclaimed, surprised.

It has been a while since I went near the buko (young coconut) juice kariton (cart) on corner E. Rodriguez Sr. and Victoria Avenues.

I missed going because I no longer go before 7am to the clinic.

There was a time I went to the usual place to get my buko juice fix only to find Kuya and his kariton of green coconuts nowhere in sight.  He must have gone the rounds of the New Manila residences.

This morning 7-ish, one of my earliest in a long while, I finally chanced upon the kariton with a stack of light green coconuts where I expected it.

Kuya usually has a young boy to assist him.  He recruits the boys (in their late teens), he shared, from the tambays (out of school youths) in his neighborhood in the Araneta Av area.

A new boy stands by the cart, calmly, quiet-confidently, under a big rainbow-color umbrella.

I expected him to call Kuya to “do” the coconut, that is, to, with a slim bolo, initially hack off the outer parts of the husk till the strategic strike of the inner husk to reveal the whitish soft meat of the buko, after which with the pointed end of the bolo a round cut is made on the exposed white coco flesh to get to the juice.  So this can then be gulped directly from the fruit or poured to a container.  (There was a time I was regularly doing the former, proud of myself that I am steering clear of using plastic straws…well, until I noticed the hard-to-remove juice stains on my white tops!)

With more flesh on his bones than his predecessors, standing straighter and blessed with a lighter air about him, he had looked to Kuya sitting across the street on the sidewalk curb by Seven-11.  Obviously given the go signal, he easily selected one from a cluster of buko nuts.

Brief flashes of the way the young boys before him had performed on the buko stage the few times they did the coconut honors (not too well) came to mind.  But I inhaled and lightly went along with him buoyed by his easy confidence.

Moments before…“Malaman?” (You want a fleshy one?) he had asked ascertaining my specifications.  “Matamis at maraming juice,” (Sweet with lots of juice) I said with certainty, glad I am more aware of what it is I really want.  I prefer one with lots of young coconut meat, not the mala-uhog type with thin watery bits of meat, but for my health needs I prioritize juice in abundance over meat.

Young boy was reducing the young coconut in size better than I expected.  With relaxed yet precise movements he is peeling off the soft husks with rhythmic hacking.

I wondered how he would manage the very usual yet when it comes always unexpected juice squirting.  When in early times I didn’t know any better, Kuya often managed to baptize me again and again with the first squirt of buko juice.

Christened with buko juice, early in the day, too, when me and my clothes are fresh and clean!  Wisened, I had learned to move out of the line of fire, I mean, water and it is the new unsuspecting customers who get it.  It always brings surprised laughter all around often except for the one baptized, who at most manage an embarrassed smile if not a smirk.

Tssst!  The strong, slim joyful squirt went straight to the young boy’s face.

Half a moment of stunned silence, then

“Ang tamis!”  (How sweet!) he chimed.

I laughed relieved he saw the beauty of the moment, a potentially embarrassment-inducing incident.

I kept chortling, glad it is indeed sweet as I had wished.

When I let him pour the juice into the mug I brought and got my first few small gulps of it, “Ang tamis nga!” (It is truly sweet!) I agreed.

He scooped out the just-right soft and plentiful coco meat.  It also tasted sweetish, fresh.

Hahaha! “Hi Kuya,”  I called out to the master buko man reading a tabloid paper meters away.  He looked up on my second louder call and nodded.