Memories of Estacion

Memories of Estacion

 

The Bayambang Railroad Station -- simply called Estacion by locals -- holds a special place in the memory of Bayambangueños who lived through the experience of availing its service during its years of operation by the Philippine National Railways or PNR.

 

This is because, back then, the Estacion was the platform to the most modern means of transport available: the train. It was the place where travelers converged before stepping off into any of the several coaches bound together for various towns up north all the way to Damortis, La Union, and down south all the way to Tutuban, Manila.

 

Bayambang Railroad Station was a place filled with the hustle and bustle of life. Ambulant vendors of every kind of food hawked their wares on weary passengers: cold water, tuge, boiled saba, boiled corn on the cob, balut penoy, chicharon baboy, kropek (fish crackers), boiled peanuts, adobong mani, hard-boiled chicken eggs, quail eggs... Those coming from Manila often brought home pop rice as abet (pasalubong or gift) and a particular mamon loaf that came in two varieties and was heavy on the stomach instead of the fluffy kind. Because of the demand, every vendor did brisk business.

 

According to Estacion resident Dr. Leticia Ursua, a jukebox could be heard at the Estacion playing music all day, as if to counteract all that noise of commerce, on top of the railway station sounds.

 

Another resident, Gloria de Vera-Valenzuela, recounted how she attempted to sell cold water as a very young girl. Emboldened by the idea of earning fast money, she laughingly recalled how she even tried to beg, imitating the few beggars in the vicinity. Her father learned about her exploits in no time, she said, and she earned some well-deserved spanking at the end of the day.

 

A corner served as a holding area for cocheros and their carretelas, offering a ready taxi ride to arriving passengers. There was a livelihood opportunity that could be exploited to the hilt in every square foot of Estacion, or so it seemed.

 

Passengers on the platform kept an eye on their belongings while waiting for the next train. Women wrapped their heads in pandong (veil) as protection from the wind that was sure to whip them in transit.

A train arrived on schedule with the familiar heavy "chug-chug-chug" sound and an ear-piercing hooting. A railway employee raised a flag to signify the new train's arrival. It was a moment when everyone was on their toes, the children clutching the hands of their elders tight lest they got lost in the fray between passengers getting off and going in.

 

Inside the train, warning signs were everywhere cautioning passengers not to bring any part of their body outside the window because the risk of being decapitated while the train was whizzing by was real. Soon the conductor arrived with the tickets. Passengers would tell him their destination, and the conductor started to punch holes in the ticket indicating the amount to be paid. Little pieces of polka-dot paper rained on the passengers as they retrieved their wallets tucked somewhere in their clothes. (My grandmother hid hers inside her brassiere.)

 

At the end of the train was the bagon or coach for commercial purposes, carrying goods bound for other towns such as native kakanin like patupat and goods from other towns to be sold in Bayambang. More than just a passenger train, the train thus served as a great interchange of regional products among traders and retailers. Railways served as a little entrepot and a nexus of cultural exchange.

 

The parade of towns serving as pit stops up and down the railway line was of particular interest, each stop a curious study of each town's character. ...Moncada, Paniqui, Gerona... ...Capas, Bamban, Mabalacat. ... Blumentritt... There were picturesque towns and there were seemingly drab towns. There were storied ones, and there were understated ones. Some towns had sizeable crowds, while some towns seemed to have none. Some towns smelled of some stench associated with bagoong or some other funky or fetid source. From certain towns wafted the wonderful aroma of tobacco or some other produce.

 

When bus companies started plying their routes in the 1970s, the Estacion started to lose its place in the economic life of the town. When an especially strong typhoon washed out one of PNR's bridges along Agno River, it effectively put an end to the vibrant life in Estacion.

 

Looking back, the Estacion in Bayambang, however, is not just any other train station, for it has an added veneer of historical significance. Bayambang station comprised of two portions, the Bayambang side and Bautista side. The Bautista side of the Bayambang station (Bautista was still a sitio of Bayambang when the railway was constructed) is where the lyrics to the Philippine national anthem was composed by poet Rafael Palma sometime in September 1899, as one account goes.

 

It is also where the last issue of the revolutionary government newspaper at the time, "La Independencia," was published using the printing press hidden inside one of the coaches of PNR. In fact, according to a book by historian Ricardo Jose, the revolutionaries buried said printing press near the railroad station (we are not sure where exactly) as they scampered in all directions while the American Army was in hot pursuit.