Barbecue at ‘Baywalk’

KORONADAL CITY—Two years ago, the wind made me roll out of the student publication. But, until now, about half of the guys I go out with are the ones I met inside that insane circle.

Debbie and Ryan, former editors in chief of Omniana, visited me at the dorm yesterday (as though I was sick or jailed. The truth is, I was just penniless and had nothing to pay for the tricycle ride to KCC Mall, where they texted me to meet them). We talked and talked. We seldom see each other now (Ryan is a nurse and Debbie works for Convergys in Cebu), so our how-are-you’s went on until 8 pm.

I took a bath and followed them at the back of the city hall, where the street is closed at night to give space to barbecue tents. The place is known as—well, it has various monikers. Many people simply refer to it as “likod sang city hall (the back of the city hall)”. Others call it “One-way,” after the direction of the vehicles passing by. Some prefer “Las Vegas,” as if bulbs and neon lights look the same. A friend would often confuse tricycle drivers by saying, “sa likod lang ni Miguel (at the back of Miguel [the city mayor], please).”

For the staff of Omni, it’s “Baywalk”, or “Baywalk Without a Bay” as landlocked Koronadal is dozens of miles away from the nearest edge of the sea. Perhaps someone thought of the name because the street looks like the Baywalk in Manila.

Our Baywalk here, all but 30 m in length, teems with people every night. Not less than 10 stalls offer different choices of barbecue—the cheapest in town. Chicken, with either a wing or a drumstick attached, is only P35. Chicken intestines and pork slices come at P3 per stick, while two pieces of chicken neck is P15. My favorite here is panit (or “sken” as a tindera once insisted), at P5 per stick.

For the complete street-food experience have a balut or two from the vendors lined at the other side of the street. Then wash the barbecue grease and chicken bits down your throat with a slice of watermelon from the fruit stands across the adjacent street.

Last night, however, we passed on the balut and watermelon because of the rainshower. When the pouring slightly waned, we decided to check the schedule of the coming Hinugyaw festival printed in the tarpaulin in front the city hall.

We walked in the drizzle without any covering for our heads, pretending we’re in Chicago, the windy city, believing ours is the normal world.

Our most joyous faces