A Hip-Hop Story

I remember there was this point in my life when I tried to be hip-hop. There were just two choices back then: Metal or Hip-hop. Kids in my elementary school drew the two factions’ symbols on the backs of their notebooks and on the blackboard like they were sacred signs of secret societies. It was hard to find Metal sympathizers in my school probably because rock music and lifestyle back then were associated with the occult. So virtually everyone in school was hip-hop and they were drawing the “X” hip-hop symbol on the blackboard and rapping Andrew E rhymes. I drew and rapped a little bit myself but I think my brother was a bigger Andrew E fan. We used to watch all these Andrew E films with the crazy car chases where Andrew E, Gelli de Belen or Anjo Yllana would cling to the hoods of explodable cars to annoy stupid bad guys and bring them to justice. But anyway, Andrew E was the center of the hip-hop movement at that time and it was cool to be like him. I don’t really know who’s at the center of the Metal group. The Eraserheads were not “Metal” but they were also accused of being devil worshippers at one point. But hip-hop guys were the good guys because they’re more wholesome and they probably looked neater in appearance. At that time, the image of the hip-hopper wasn’t associated with jologs, poverty, gangs and the streets. It was just an image of another Andrew E follower. So anyway, there was this time when I observed that essential to being a hip-hopper was their walk — a kind of gorilla-like walk where you have to move your legs one after the other while they are widely apart, as if your balls are suffering from elephantiasis. When I think about that walk today, I’m reminded of Grimace, that purple dude who doesn’t remind anyone of any McDonald’s food. So I learned how to walk in a hip-hoppy manner and I was walking to and fro between our bathroom and our house that way (because our bathroom was separately located from our house). And I was having fun and I thought I looked pretty cool, kinda like Andrew E whom Ana Roces really would die for in films. But then my auntie saw me walking like that and she kinda laughed and mocked me, walking like I did. I also laughed myself but I realized the walk did look stupid when I saw her do it; and after that, I never wanted to be hip-hop ever again.

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