A Fascinating and Funny Coming-of-Age Story Set in the Philippines. This humorous coming-of-age memoir takes readers on a journey from kindergarten through college and beyond, capturing the experiences of a young teacher. Set in Manila, it explores universal themes of friendship, love, school life, academic struggles, and personal triumphs. A National Bestseller in the Philippines, the book includes lively illustrations by award-winning cartoonist Freely Abrigo, a concept artist for Warner Brothers. Through candid, warm, and humorous essays, Bob Ong recounts his upbringing in Marcos-era Manila of the 1980s, blending satire and nostalgia with everyday experiences such as: Fighting for a seat in a crowded classroom - Enjoying Nutribuns (UNICEF's nutrient-enriched bread for developing countries) - Discovering a 20-inch rubber snake in your schoolbag - Participating in a disastrous school production of Star Wars - Struggling to adapt to university life - Gaining new insights as a teacher Whether you're reminiscing about schooldays in the Philippines or simply looking for an entertaining memoir set against the backdrop of a vibrant Asian city, this book offers humor, heart, and insight. Bob Ong is a contemporary Filipino author known for his humorous depictions of Philippine life. His name, a pseudonym, came about when the author was working as a web developer and a teacher, and he put up the Bobong Pinoy (literally "dumb Filipino") website in his spare time. The Boy with A Snake in his Schoolbag is the translation of Bob Ong's first book ABNKKBSNPLAko? published in 2001. He has since published ten more books, two of which have been made into films, and six of which have sold more than a quarter of a million copies. The Boy with the Snake in his Schoolbag is the first of his books to be translated into English. Freely Abrigo is a Filipino-born artist who has been working as an editorial cartoonist for over a decade, currently contributing his cartoons to a leading newspaper in the Philippines. He has recently invaded the world of toys as a toy designer, and he also works as a concept artist for Warner Bros for whom he has designed some DC characters. Instagram.com/freelyabrigo Facebook.com/freely.abrigo APART FROM BEING TOO YOUNG , grade schoolers couldn't go to the mall because there were no shopping malls near elementary schools back then. That's why in high school, I grabbed the chance to go to a popular nearby mall right away. Of course, it didn't end well. I was with my classmate Head, as the class called him on account of him being short and with a big head, resembling a comic character of the same name. We were buddies and shared jeepney rides and always went home together right after class. Except that one time when we decided to go to the mall. I can no longer recall whose idea it was. I don't think any amount of disguise would have worked to convince anyone that we were already "grown-ups." We were barely in our teens and what gave us away was the part of the mall we made a beeline for. The toy section. My efforts to act mature were wasted with Head gasping and wowing at every toy he saw. A lollipop and balloon couldn't have made him look more childish. The trip would've made the day of the toddler I'd brought along if only the toy truck behind us hadn't fallen from the shelf. PAAAGH! There were just two things on my mind: Uh. Oh. There was damage. A small chip on the funnel of the toy cement-mixer construction truck. A saleslady immediately approached, asked a couple of questions and nonchalantly took us to the store manager. We were escorted to the basement of the building where we passed by the employees' lounge. The place looked like a dungeon in my mind because it was underground and didn't look anything like the mall. I knew what everybody who saw us was thinking. Shoplifters! In high-school uniform. Uh. Oh. I was quiet the entire time. The denial stage. Actuating an out of body experience. Head, in contrast, was optimistic, upbeat, hyper, high. I remember staring at the calendar in the office of the manager. It was my mother's birthday. While my siblings were probably busy preparing for the occasion at home, I was doing time in some manager's office. Barely a month into my new school. While the other freshmen were busy trying to attract attention and make good first impressions, I was in an underground cell. Depressed and suicidal. Head and the manager reached an agreement. The dang truck would be paid for. But since we didn't have any money, Head asked if we could go back to school to get our class adviser's help. The manager had us leave our school bags as collateral. Unfortunately, our adviser was no longer on campus when we returned. But Head, my optimistic, upbeat, hyper buddy never lost hope, even at that point, which was both admirable and weird. He suggested we might as well pay our adviser a visit at her home, mere walking distance from the school. We prob