I have never written about Daet. Well, until now. You see, I have felt distant about the place. While I was born and raised in Daet, I studied high school in Basud, a neighboring town of Daet. Then, I moved to Naga for senior high school. Then, I moved to Quezon City for college. While the pandemic forced me to return to Daet, the lockdown just trapped us in our home. Then, I went back to Metro Manila for the latter part of college, and then law school.

By way of an introduction, Daet is a small and bustling town, some 300 kilometers southeast of Manila. An eight-hour bus ride through deep ravines at least; it could go up to 12 (or even higher), if you’re unlucky. Every Daeteño (I really don’t like using that demonym) has a conception of what Daet is for them: a place of birth, a place of study, a place of convergence, a place you leave, a place you occasionally return to.

Cartographies

When I think of Daet, I think of the perfect intersection of Vinzons Ave. (running east-west), and J. Lukban St. (running north-south). I think of the first Jollibee branch there (there are now three). I remember that one time when my asthma had worsened when I was in Grade 4. It was early Thursday evening, and my mother had to bring me to Leon D. Hernandez Memorial Hospital for a check-up. It was the usual course: a temperature check and a doctor who would poke my chest and back with his stethoscope, while asking me to breathe deeply.

Following the check-up, we got the prescription. But my mother knew better. We didn’t buy the prescription anymore, because we already had a lot of those at home: Salbutamol nebules and Montelukast. And, instead, we went to Jollibee for dinner. I was feeling ill. My mother had ordered me one chickenjoy and the soup. We sat on the second floor of the Jollibee, by the window where one could overlook Daet’s main intersection.

(Perhaps it was just sheer youthful curiosity, but I had always been fascinated with the traffic light in that intersection that hung ever so delicately through cables. The LED era was yet to come; the traffic light was probably powered by some powerful incandescent or halogen lamps.)

From that seat in Jollibee, one can see the stretch from that intersection to the Elevated Plaza, to Times Bakery, to Alan Marc Supplies, to Daet Bridge II. The line of sight to the other views are more restricted: you can just see Botica Immaculada in front of Jollibee; and the Asiatic Bazaar across the road (and, if you look closely, you can just see the board games they sell).

From then, until now, vehicular traffic in Daet remains nothing compared to the carmaggedon of Metro Manila. The former mayor used to install center island barriers along Vinzons Ave, but when I returned last week, those had already been removed.

Transformations

But Daet is no longer a sleepy town. I have lived long enough in this town to see various businesses and merchants come and go. The iconic Mister Donut branch near the intersection had already been a laundry shop. The strip club, Lady Anne, is now an empty lot where a car washing outlet is situated.

When I was in elementary school, the only mall was Central Plaza Mall. Centro Mall also opened, though perhaps with little success. When I reached Grade 7, an SM Hypermarket appeared, bringing with it a McDonalds branch–the first in Daet. And, during the pandemic, an SM City mall opened. More than a few Chinese-run stores also opened. When I was young, there was only Novo Trading and V3, where one can buy cheap toys and dry goods. Now, there’s V5, 101 Department Store, and the biggest, New One.

The sudden entrance of these merchant stores also coincided with the diversification of food outlets. We began with traditional restaurants, like Golden Palace, and Central Plaza Restaurant. KSarap remains an icon, though it opened much later (in 2003). Now, more homegrown places have opened, particularly near the beach. You now have Aurora’s, Catherine’s, Hoogpaan, Al-Thea’s, Chef Tiu’s, to name a few.

Cafés were also virtually unheard of when I was younger. But then came the milk tea boom of the mid-2010s. And so a deluge of cafés, both serving milk teas and coffee-based beverages, came. I remember the days of Café Morga, Pratessi, Kick. Now, franchised brands are here: Infinitea, Gong Cha, CoCo.

Daet doesn’t have a shortage of drinking places, either. I’ve been told that a club (think of Poblacion or BGC, in Manilaspeak) now exists in Daet. Recently, I saw a speakeasy café/bar open. A lot of these places litter Lag-on (envisioned as the red-light district) and Bagasbas (for some beachfront drinking). So, yes, Daet now has a spectrum of mood when it comes to booze: from wholesome to rave and everything in between.

Shadows

The decadence, I thought, may be driven by the town’s desire to become more on par with our conceived notion of a “city.”

You see, Daet is always a place of intentionality. One must go there on purpose. While Daet is branded as the “gateway to Bicolandia,” sojourners never pass through Daet. If you’re from Manila, you go through Quezon province, and only a little bit of Camarines Norte, before reaching Camarines Sur. Geographically, Daet is sandwiched between Quezon and the nearest city, Naga City.

Many Daeteño go to Naga for an assortment of purposes–work, schooling, shopping. I, for one, had spent my senior high school years in Naga. But as the years progressed and, especially in the post-pandemic, more of those purposes have been slowly covered by this town itself (see earlier discussion).

As it stands now, Daet situates itself in the liminal space between a city and a provincial town. In the in-betweens of the city, you can see this. While the centro villages, Barangays 5, 6, 7, and 8 are teeming with commerce, the outskirts of Daet remain very provincial. Calasgasan, Dogongan, Mancruz and Pamorangon are where the subdivisions and low-cost housing projects are situated. Though they are teeming with population, the commercial activity in these areas remain at a lull–even accessibility and mobility are still issues.

There is a constant murmur about the cityhood of Daet. It’s an issue always brought up during elections. Mayoral candidates say they will push for the cityhood but always fail. (Some say that Daet lacks the required land area. Some have proposed that Daet absorb some of the nearby towns. That’s a contentious issue!) Heck, the last House Bill for the cityhood of Daet was filed by former Rep. Liwayway Vinzons-Chato in 2007. That’s nearly two decades ago.

Constants

Daet will remain as Daet, city or not. With the recent exponential increase of commerce in the town, the title of a “city” will just be a superfluity, perhaps a useless but honorary appendage in the name of the town that everyone simply knew as “Daet.”

I may not have given this piece enough justice because I have been mostly out of Daet for the past eight or nine years. During senior high school, I only went home during weekends. And from college until now, I only went home during the term breaks–for the summer and Christmas.

But I still know Daet like the back of my hand. It seems that every place and street here evoke a specific memory. I used to go to St. John the Baptist Parish to hear the 5:15 p.m. mass, and, sometimes, avail of the Confession every 4:30 p.m. I used to buy the Inquirer and K-Zone (when it was in print) in the Espino newsstand, though it’s more a lugawan now than a newsstand. I remember saving up P20 to P30 pesos per week during my Grades 4 to 6 so I could buy a copy of the monthly magazine, which cost P100.

After living in many cities, Daet remains my domicile, which in legal parlance means a place where one intends to return. I have grown here, and who I am now have been formed here. (As a sidenote, I indeed noticed my growth here. Consider Daet’s tricycles, which are tiny compared to those in other places. Before, I could sit comfortably. In Grade 6, my head barely touched the top of the tricycle’s roof. In high school, I had to bend my neck to fit. Now, I must slouch my entire upper back and neck to fit.)

Daet is a mosaic of its many faces: the workers, the tricycle drivers, the families, the students who study in its schools, the students who leave to study away, the commuters, the fisherfolk, the riverbank folks, the farmers, the rich, the feeling rich, the clout chasers, the main characters, the poorest of the poor, the strangers, the familiar faces, the faces we will never see again, the faces we avoid. Daet shapes us, just as we shape this town. Daet, this sometimes godforsaken town.

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