Piece of my mother in my wallet

In the corner of my wallet lies a pack of 2×2 ID pictures taken at a studio that has watched me grow up. Pines Studio, a small photo supply store nestled in the lower part of Session Road, Baguio City—a place where dreams start with every flash of a camera and the smile of the photographer.

“Big dreams start with small steps,” quoted from every success story I have ever read. I beg to differ. Dreams don’t start with strides; they start with ID pictures. How else can you achieve your dreams when you do not have a picture stapled on the upper left corner of your enrollment documents, work, or visa application?

Pines Studio has been printing pictures since 1946. It has caught a glimpse of a thousand people’s lives through the sizes and colors customized with every picture. These glimpses, however, would not be possible without the people pressing the shutter.

When you enter Pines Studio, a warm “Yes, ma’am/sir? ID pic po?” will greet you. My mother, whose voice I am most familiar with, will start by asking what size you need. Passport? School? Work? Each picture is tailored to the customer’s purpose. Then, you will be guided to a mirror so you can prepare. If you need a blazer or a polo, you can also borrow one from their set of formal clothing. You will be asked to enter a small studio when you are prepped and ready. As the curtains close, you will be asked to sit on the moving stool, straighten your back, and smile for the camera. Smile, 1, 2, 3 … flash! Then, you will be asked to choose from your pictures on the computer screen. You can sit on the bench on the side as the photographer makes the necessary adjustments. After five minutes, you will be handed a small plastic pack with your pictures inside.

Pines Studio seems to be just another usual photo studio. Aside from the speedy five-minute service that sets them apart from others, they have also built a community inside the four walls of the place. For most of my childhood, I have been constantly going to Pines Studio because my mother preferred to take me to her workplace than leave me alone in our house. I would see and hear different versions of life as my mother and her coworkers converse with their customers.

You need a 2×2 ID picture because you got into your dream university? People at Pines Studio will share your joy.

You need a passport-size ID picture because, finally, you have the means to travel abroad? People at Pines Studio will be as excited as you.

You need a 1×1 ID picture because you will apply for a job? People at Pines Studio will hope you get accepted.

For years, I have seen the genuine interest of the people at Pines Studio in getting to know their customers’ lives. The five-minute photo process might be short, but you will leave the place with a glimmer of hope: that even if the world moves at an overwhelmingly fast pace, there will always be people who will take their time to know you—even for a short span of five minutes.

Whenever the pressure of dreams and the lurking failures get to me, Pines Studio keeps me grounded.

When I graduated elementary school, the people at Pines Studio showered me with congratulatory words as they took my ID picture for the high school I applied to. When I failed to pass the science program of my high school, they assured me there were other paths I was destined to take as they edited my ID picture for the high school I eventually enrolled in. When I got accepted to the University of the Philippines, they would constantly boast about the news to their friends as they printed my ID picture for my enrollment documents. My achievements were theirs to share, too, and the years of piled-up, unused ID pictures in my wallet could attest to that.

It is a privilege and honor that my mother works at Pines Studio. Aside from the fact that I can take my ID pictures whenever I want, the place also showed me different versions of life. However, the studio would not be special if it weren’t for the people who work there. They have helped me, and possibly many other people, too, build the perspectives that have guided me to the success and aspirations I have now.

I could only hope that even after I leave the city in the near future, I could do it all again—sit on the moving stool, smile for the camera, and connect with the people at Pines Studio.

Erin Victoria Agapito, 19, is a communication student at University of the Philippines Baguio.