I was eight years old and they told me I was too old– who "they" are, I don't even recall. At 8 years old, It certainly didn't feel like I was. I was shorter than everyone in my family. People laughed at my silliness and clumsiness. However, I've always heard them say that I was too young to join in conversations or that I was too something for that. But I never thought I would be too old to learn the piano.
I was young once, I was around four at that time. Mr. D was teaching my siblings, Kuya John, Kuya Ricky, and Ate Roma, their piano pieces at home. Our dark brown European upright piano was owned by my great aunt, Ninang. I named her piano Sari because I used to pretend it was a Sari-Sari store, where I'd place all my merchandise and sell it with my imaginary customers. It was a perfect long table to showcase my items. Anyway, I was four and I liked it when Mr. D was teaching.
He was old, as anybody taller than me was. He wore dark clothes, black eyeglasses, and had gray hair, which made me think he was really really old. But I liked him, which was unusual because I was afraid of old people. Mr. D didn't scare me. He seemed amiable and my siblings looked like they really liked him. I told him that I wanted to play the piano. I demonstrated that I could sit on the chair on my own now and reach the keys if I wanted to. Mr. D chuckled and this made my cheeks flush and I hesitated to touch the piano keys. He explained that I was too young because I couldn't even reach the piano pedals at my age. I knew that I grow and was impatient to have piano lessons and went green with envy whenever I watched my sibling one-by-one sit on the piano bench with Mr. D on the right side patiently instructing them. He would leave our house with his brown briefcase tucked under his arms. I would wave at him and promise I would play the piano when I grow up.
Because whoever 'they" were said I was too old to learn – I, as an eight year old, believed them. I remember those days when I felt that I wasn't learning as quickly as I should. Regardless, I insisted on learning, even though I knew that I would never make a career out of it nor ever become a famous pianist. And for a little girl at that age, this truly saddened me.
The university where my brother studied was in the city, and my mom decided to migrate us from Laguna to Makati. At that time, we lived in a small townhouse in Ecology Village. My mother bought a black upright European piano, which I named Ebony. We only rented houses when we were in Makati and during our stay in the city we lived in three rented houses– Ebony moved in and out with us. It always stood near the TV and usually after dinner, my siblings and my mother would play their piano pieces and I longed for a day I could play as well as them.
It was in Makati that I had my first piano lesson. Societe de Ballet was a small music studio that I enrolled for both my ballet and piano lessons. I have fond memories of wearing my pink leotard, my sister's hand me down magenta skirt, and pink rubber shoes while walking to the studio. The 2nd floor studio had glass-walled rooms where aspiring musicians learn voice, piano, guitar and whatever instrument. At the end of the hallway was a dance studio for ballet, jazz or whatever dancing.
I learned the piano using an electronic keyboard. My teacher, Ms. A was a lovely lady in her twenties, who I adored whenever we would play duets together. I don't recall her face but I remember her hair falling to her shoulders and her voice was sweet and soft. She was enthusiastic and gentle when teaching me. John Thompson's book for piano beginners was filled with simple notes with accompaniment and I super enjoyed whenever I memorized my simple part and my teacher would brilliantly play with me her accompaniment part. I would always smile or clap at the end for a job well done. My teacher also arranged a medley that up until now I still remember. She simplified the left hand with three notes that I would press interchangeably and on the right hand I would play the simple versions of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star", "Mary Had a Little Lamb", and "London Bridge is Falling Down". I felt awesome playing that and preschool kids just adore me.
Later on, I heard the same left hand chord in Disney's Aristocats' "Scales and Arpeggios". The little white cat would start the song by singing the first notes of the song so I was able to include it in my Nursery Rhyme Medley. This was also the very first time I played a song by ear. From a little four-year-old, who's first memories of playing the piano was softly touching random keys to an eight-year-old who added a song in a medley by playing with ear.
Yes, I still grew up as a common person and not a musically talented professional piano player. It is true that learning the piano at the age of eight years old probably is a little late for the musically talented professional piano career. However, it was my perfect age to learn to play for a lifetime.
