B.A.S.K.E.T.B.A.L.L. 3/10

S is for the Streets of Cebu 

Kartsu has always been good at passing the basketball. Now he gives so good no-look pass over the guy who defends me that I can finally go for a slam dunk (the basket rim is low enough for me). Maayo! This is the court where we have been playing for the last few weeks. There is a small chapel near by and a young boy is always uprooting on its yard. Rottening garbage is smelling, grasshoppers are chirping and it's warm. We play until the gabii comes (it comes quickly here) and funny tokay geckos start to roam on the walls and ceilings repeating their name: "Tokay, tokay".

Here in Philippines you can find a basketball court from almost every block - thanks to American soldiers who brought the game here some decades ago. We play basketball everywhere: on the courts, streets and sand. Many Philipinos want to challenge us americanos (as they call us because of our white skin) for either 2 on 2 or 1 on 1 game. We, Finnish vikings, are quite much bigger than an average Philipino, but they are very fast and skillful. They play hard but fair and they are always friendly, salamat for that. We learn to count the points in cebuano: usa, duha, tulo, upat, lima, unom, pito, walo, siyam...

Real street basketball in Cebu City. Photo: Dominic DeGrazier. 

One of the places where we play is in a slum by the sea. It's hot and the court is dusty, there are no nets in the baskets and players have no shoes, but it doesn't matter - we enjoy the game. After several tough matches we, Kartsu and I, invite the players to come back in the gabii and watch a film about Jesus. We often recover from the training by fast carbohydrates bought from the street market: fried bananas and warm Coke. Even from the poorest village of Camotes Islands you can always find Coke.

Cebu Island, Philippines. Summer 2000.

P.s. The next blog text is about my first basketball team: Joensuun Kataja.