By Rex Catubig

 

(Note: Of late, there has been news of a brewing resentment among the fish vendors of Magsaysay market, who despair that their supposed deplorable condition allegedly has not been addressed. This piece is in homage to that vital, vibrant, vigorous soul of the city.)

WHEN Metro Plaza was a patch of green known as Magsaysay Park (named in honor of the so-called President of the Masses), the surrounding area and the dock behind was accordingly referred to as Magsaysay Market. But sometime in the early ’70s, a box like concrete building grew out of and squatted on the riverbank along the Magsaysay perimeter. It was built by an enterprising family from Pantal and named Me-le’s in marked disregard to the native speaker’s lingual difficulty with pronouncing the soft vowel “e”.

But despite this phonetic obstacle and the threat of demolition brought on by subsequent litigation owing to its controversial location, the iconic restaurant turned out so popular that its name became a byword. In fact, in no time at all, the Magsaysay appellation was superseded by the brand name Me-le’s which then became synonymous with seafood market and has stuck to this day.

Without meaning to, the family behind Me-le’s who just wanted to run and expand their fishing business, has left an imprint on the city’s fish commerce and created a timeless cultural legacy to this epochal fishing village.

It’s where I found myself one sun-blazed, saline scented morning upon settling back in the city after my retirement. I went there in search of squid–which I was told were brought in by the Pantal fishing vessels that regularly venture out to the sea . To my delight, I found all kinds of squid, fresh and frozen, the cheaper “kalawang” and the pricier variety. And, expectedly, so much more.

In the midst of this riverbank fish market, amid the chaos of wooden carts, wicker baskets and “bigao” laid out in wanton disarray on wet muddy pavement, teeming with seafood of all kinds, accompanied by the cacophony of vendors and buyers’ voices in a chorus of haggling, as the ascending sun began to burn and boil this cauldron of fish and people, I found myself contemplating and squeezing some meaning out of all this.

At closer look, there was in all this a quintessentially, unmistakably Dagupan identity. Something that probably marks one as distinctly Dagupeno, something in the fishy smell, the gleam of fish scales, the abundance of fresh fish harvest, the pride that oozes out of sun-bronzed sweaty fisherfolk bodies, the sing-song lilt in the vendors’ voices, the unaffected smile on their sun-kissed faces–I didn’t have to look far for what I was looking for. I wasn’t looking for squid, after all. I was pining for home, and I found home.

The Mele’s market, the Magsaysay market, is home.

And I was happily home.

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