Noong makaraang araw, isang Pilipina blogger, si Jolens(read post here), ang nag-post ng mga banyagang tula na kanyang isinalin sa ating sariling wika. Ika niya, ang pagsasalin-wika ay magandang pagsasanay upang mahasa ang ating husay sa lenguahe.
Siya rin ay nag-alok ng hamon (hindi po ham, challenge ang ibig kong sabihin) sa mga ibang blogger, kasama na po ako dito, na magsalin din daw ng tula sa ating wika. Aking malugod na tinanggap ang hamon na ito.
Akin pong pinili ang isang classic at tanyag na tula sa Ingles. Ito ay isinulat ni William Ernest Henley.
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.
Heto naman po ang aking pagkakasalin sa ating wikang tinubuan, at kahit hindi man salita kada salita, ay pinilit kong mapanatili ang saloobin ng buong tula:
Mula sa gabing sumusuklob sa akin, Pusikit na gaya ng balong napakalalim, Anumang mga diyos, sila’y aking pinasasalamatan, Sa kaluluwa kong hindi magagapi kailan man.
Sa pagkakalugmok sa mahigpit na kalagayan, Hindi ako humikbi o tumangis man, Sa kabila ng hataw at hagupit ng kapalaran, Ako’y taas noo pa rin kahit na sugatan.
Sa ibayo ng lupain nitong poot at luha, Mga anino ng lagim na laging nagbabadya, At anumang panganib ng mga taon na lumipas, Bahid ng takot sa aki’y hindi namalas.
Gaano mang kakitid ang aking daraanan, Hitik man ng parusa ang sa aki’y iniatang, Ako pa rin ang panginoon ng aking kapalaran, Sa aking buhay, ako ang Kapitan.
(*Invictus means unconquered in Latin; above photo is of the Colosseum, taken during our visit to Rome)
Sa ating buhay, may mga bagay na mahirap makita. Kahit hanapin mo pa, hindi sila basta basta lalantad.
Isa na dito ang mga multo at maligno. Kahit sabihin pa nating maraming Pilipino ang naniniwala sa mga ito, hindi lahat ay nakakakita sa kanila. Sabi ng iba, kailangan mo ng pangatlong mata (third eye) para sila makita. Para sa akin, dahil hindi ako naniniwala, kaya ayoko na lang silang makita.
Isa pa sa mga hindi nagpapakita ay ang mga taong may utang sa atin. Hindi ko nga alam kung saang lupalop sila nagtatago, pero asahan mo, mahirap silang matagpuan. Buti pa minsan ‘yung multo, nagpaparamdam. Pero ang mga taong may utang sa iyo? Walang paramdam.
Siguro isama na rin natin sa mahirap makita ang mga ninong at ninang kapag panahon ng Pasko. Umeeskapo rin sila sa mga naghahanap sa kanila. Kawawang mga inaanak, nagiging maligno ang kanilang mga ninong at ninang.
Isa pa sa mahirap makita, lalo na sa mga taga Maynila, ay ang mga kalsada na sa matagal nang panahon ay nawawala. Sila ay nakukubli sa ating tanaw. Tulad ng mga kalsada sa Divisoria, Quiapo, at Sta. Cruz. Sa dami ng mga naglalako at mga paninda na nakatirik sa gitna mismo ng kalye, ay natabunan na ang kalsadang dapat sana ay daanan ng mga mamamayan.
Subalit, dahil may bagong pamunuan na ang lungsod ng Maynila, ang hindi ko akalaing makikita ay lumantad na.
Alam mo bang may maluwag palang kalsada sa Divisoria?
Hindi ko maubos maisip na may kalye pala sa Carriedo?
At may lansangan palang lagus-lagusan sa Blumentritt?
Aaminin ko, hindi ko nakilala kaagad ang mga larawan ng mga lugar na ito, dahil malinis na sila sa mga illegal vendors na naglipana at nakabalagbag sa gitna ng kalsada, at wala na rin ang mga gabundok na tambak ng basura.
Saludo po ako sa bagong alkalde ng Maynila. At kahit matagal na akong wala sa siyudad na ito, dahil sa mga magagandang pagbabagong nagaganap sa lungsod na aking pinagmulan, ay lalo kong ipagyayabang na ako ay lumaki sa lungsod ng Maynila.
Sana ay maisiwalat at mailantad na rin ang mga aswang na nagtatago sa anino ng gobyerno, na sumisipsip sa kabang yaman ng bayan.
Masigasig ko pong aantabayanan at tututukan ang mga bali-balita mula sa aking bayan.
I have posted more than 850 articles and stories over the years since this blog’s inception, which in a few months, will be 10 years. It’s quite a popular practice in the media to have reruns or replays. Even social media have their “throwbacks.”
I would like to repost a throwback story/article once in a while, not that I am running out of ideas or stories, for as a matter of fact, I have more than 30 unfinished articles in my draft bin. But sometimes, I just want to relive a bygone moment, or perhaps give a new breath to a favorite story from the past.
Here’s a reload of a love story that I witnessed a few years ago:
Making Things Right
“I just want to make things right.”
That was what my patient told me. Wanting to make things right. Don’t we all? Here is his story.
He was in his 50’s, and he presented to the hospital with leg swelling and worsening shortness of breath. After initial work-up in the Emergency Room, he was diagnosed with blood clots in the legs and lungs (veno-thromboembolism). A serious condition.
His chest CT scan also showed a lung mass. After further work-up, which includes a biopsy, it was found to be cancer. Cancer in itself is a risk for developing blood clots. A bad prognosis.
After more work-up, it was determined that the lung cancer was far advanced. It has spread to the bones, liver, and lymph nodes. A grim outlook.
During his hospital stay, his condition deteriorated and was transferred to the ICU.
I approached him as he lay in his ICU bed. Knowing the severity of his condition, I asked him about his “code status.” That is, what he wants us to do if in case he cannot breathe on his own, does he wants us to place a tube down his throat and have a machine breathe for him? Or if his heart stops, does he wants us to shock his heart or pound on his chest to try to resuscitate him? Or does he wants us to just let him go peacefully?
There was a long pause before he replied, as he breathed heavily under the oxygen mask. “I want everything done,” he finally answered. “I want everything done, until I have done one thing. I want to get married.”
Get married? Did I hear him right? Was he of a sound mind or was he confused and hallucinating?
As he continued talking, I ascertained that he was very alert and not confused at all. I did not ask why he wanted to get married, but he explained to me the reason why. Perhaps he saw the quizzical look on my face.
“I just want to make things right,” was his reason. Apparently, he was living-in with his girlfriend for twelve long years. He wanted to make their union legal. This would make her girlfriend the legal decision-maker for him if he becomes incompetent. And she would also inherit his estate without questions, when he dies. But more so, he just wanted to show her how he loved her over the years, but did not quite made it to the altar. Now, he was “making things right.”
Two days later, there was a wedding ceremony in our ICU room. A bride, a groom, a chaplain, and a couple of witnesses. That was all you need for a wedding. Of course there was a gown too. But it was the groom who wore it, for I’m not pertaining to a wedding gown, but rather a patient’s hospital gown.
There was many well-wishers too, courtesy of the ICU staff.
The patient’s son was also present. I believe he was his son from a previous relationship, and he came from out-of-state to visit his very ill father. He was probably expecting to attend a funeral, but was surprised that he was attending a wedding instead.
A few days after the wedding, our patient’s condition improved that he was able to be transferred out of the ICU to the Oncology floor. Perhaps, getting married gave him hope and a different outlook in life, and willed himself to get better.
He was started on combined regimen of radiation therapy and chemotherapy. Hope springs eternal.
Two weeks later, his condition started to decline once more. He grew weaker and weaker. His respirations became more and more labored. This time, he told us, he does not want to be resuscitated if his heart stops or if he cannot breathe on his own. I guess, he already accomplished his one wish, and now he was ready.
Then one day, he quietly faded away at the break of dawn. And he left a newly wed bride, a widow.
Cancer stumps hope. A so familiar refrain, sadly to say.
Yet love conquers all.
(*This story was originally published in July of 2011; featured photo was taken a few weeks ago.)
Pompeii is an ancient Roman city near the modern day Naples in southern Italy. On that fateful moment in AD 79, it was suddenly buried in 4 to 6 meters of volcanic ash and debris during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.
The city remained frozen in time, concealed under ash and rocks until it was discovered by surveying engineer in 1748. With methodical excavation, evidence of a once thriving city was unearthed.
When we visited Pompeii several weeks ago, we were able to witness the ruins, as well as take a peek at a slice of ancient Roman life.
Photo below is one of the main streets, where horse-drawn carriages or chariots pass through. It is amazing how the stone-paved road is in very good condition.
Though the pedestrians, experts believe, walk on the sidewalk and use the step-stones (big stones in the middle of the road) to cross to the other side of the road. The reason why pedestrians don’t walk in the stone-paved road was that most of the time runoff water was flowing in the road as part of their water drainage system. Plus, sewage from homes also stream through it, and you definitely don’t want to step on that.
Below is an entry way to a well-to-do home. I was impressed on the intricacy of the mosaic art on the floor.
Here is a courtyard garden inside the largest home on the block. It was believed that this residence was owned by a prominent Roman of the ruling class.
Below is an ancient eatery or food vendor, perhaps like the modern day McDonald’s or your local carinderia. The holes in the ‘counter’ are where the pots or vessels containing food were kept warm by a fire underneath.
Here is their theater (next photo) where they watch plays and concerts. I wonder what shows they have then. Maybe “The Three Roman Tenors?” Or perhaps “The Phantom of the Colosseum?”
The Romans also have public bath houses. The photo below, believe it or not, is a sauna room. A wood-burning furnace outside sends warm air under the raised floor to heat the room.
Next is a sample of their wall art. Much nicer than the modern day graffiti, I would say.
They also have some sort of sports complex. The facility below is a training ground for gladiators.
Below is Pompeii’s town plaza. At the backdrop is Mount Vesuvius, which is considered an active volcano up to this day, though the last time it erupted was in 1944.
As we walked around the ruins, I have noticed that there were lots and lots of pillars.
I supposed these columns that are still standing today, are testaments of a once proud and prosperous city, and what it stood for. Sorry, pun intended.
(The following discourse was prepared for a local congregation.)
Have you ever been pickpocketted? When I was in high school, I lost 200 Pesos on my way to school. I knew I passed through a crowd during my commute. I was supposed to pay something in school with that money. It either fell out of my pocket or someone picked my pocket.
In the past I heard that when you land in Manila International Airport, you would be greeted with something like this: “Welcome to the Philippines, the only Christian nation in the southeast Asia. Please beware of pickpockets.” I am glad that this had changed for the better.
A few days after I first arrived here in the US, I was walking alone in the streets of Morristown, New Jersey, a relatively quiet town, when a stranger greeted me, “What a beautiful day, isn’t it?” I was taken aback. First of all, in Manila where I came from, you don’t talk to strangers on the street. Secondly, nobody in the Philippines talk about the weather, for it is the same the whole year through. And lastly, when a stranger talks to you, check your wallet if it’s still there.
Our story today is about someone who pickpocketted Jesus of His power.
Jesus just arrived from the other side of the lake, and probably landed in the town of Capernaum. Perhaps his boat was still far from the shore when a crowd of people already gathered to meet him.
Have you ever been in a crowd? Maybe like in a sporting event, or a concert, or in a very crowded bus or train? During my time in Manila and also in New York City, when I rode the train it was so crowded that I could almost exchange faces with the people around me. And even if the train was moving I didn’t have to hold on to something, for I was propped up as we were packed like sardines.
That was how it must have been when the crowd gathered around Jesus, for the Bible said it almost “crushed” Him (Luke 8: 42). The Greek word used to describe it was sumpnigo. Interestingly, it is the same word that was used to describe the thorns “choking” the seeds that fell on the thorny ground in the Parable of the Sower.
One lesson for us is if we don’t have a deep foundation, the crowd and the cares of this world could crush and choke us.
Then a woman pushed through the crowd to get close to Jesus.
Who is this woman? We don’t know her name or her age. I would guess that she was not very old for she was still menstruating, and I will get into that. But we know that she’s been suffering for 12 years. Perhaps in the beginning of her illness she was seeing all the doctors that were recommended to her. From one doctor to another, were only met by disappointment after disappointment. According to the account of the Gospel of Mark, “she suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors.” In the end she used all her money and was broke, but still did not get well.
What was she suffering from? According to the Gospel writers she was “subject to bleeding.” I would surmise that it was some kind of vaginal bleeding like having menstruation. Yet this one did not stop, and has been going on for 12 long years! If you’re bleeding that long, you would be anemic, weak and fatigued.
As a doctor, I would speculate that her illness was most probably not cancer. Because she was still alive after 12 years. I think it was some kind of a benign uterine growth, like fibroids. This causes vaginal bleeding even between menses, and particularly can have very heavy menses. That’s why I think she was younger and not of menopausal age.
If you have uterine growth like fibroids, no medication can treat it. No kind of concoction would work. Only taking out the fibroid by surgery or doing hysterectomy will cure it.
Do you have an illness that no doctor can help? Have you been suffering despite all the medical interventions? Are you desperate for a healing? Maybe you can relate to the story of this woman. It is my prayer that this message is for you and that you find encouragement in this story.
Besides the physical ravages of bleeding for 12 years there’s another aspect of her suffering. She was socially exiled and emotionally isolated.
According to the Mosaic law, if you have bleeding, you are considered unclean.
“When a woman has a discharge of blood for many days at a time other than her monthly period or has a discharge that continues beyond her period, she will be unclean as long as she has the discharge, just as in the days of her period. Any bed she lies on while her discharge continues will be unclean, as is her bed during her monthly period, and anything she sits on will be unclean, as during her period. Whoever touches them will be unclean; he must wash his clothes and bathe with water, and he will be unclean till evening.” (Leviticus 15:25-27)
All she touched or sat on was considered unclean. People who had contact with her or with what she touched were considered unclean. This woman had been longing for human touch, and she probably had not received a hug for 12 years!
Why does being soiled with blood considered unclean? It is the Universal Precaution rule. If you work in the hospital today you will don on gloves, gown, goggles if you are handling blood or bodily fluids. This is to protect yourself from contacting disease or also from spreading the disease.
Before people discovered and learned about bacteria and viruses, or how a disease is spread, God already provided rules among His people, the ancient Israelites, on how to prevent spreading diseases. That’s why in the Mosaic law, you are considered unclean if you touch a dead person or an animal carcass, or if you touch an open sore. All pots that critters crawled on must be destroyed. God knows about the bacteria and how they cause diseases even before men discovered them! God is so wise.
A couple of hundred years ago, doctors who did autopsy in the morgue came to the hospital ward to examine patients without thoroughly washing their hands. They probably just wiped them. This was before the era of discovering the bacteria. Then they have observed that those patients nearer the door get sicker or die more frequently than those farther away from the door. Why? Who do you think the doctor touched first after coming from the morgue? The doctors were spreading the bacteria!
Let’s go back to our story. To be considered unclean for 12 long years was like an imprisonment, punished by banishment from humanity. Or she must have gone incognito, and became an invisible woman, that nobody recognized or noticed her when she went out of her home.
Then she heard about Jesus and His miracles of healing. And she learned that Jesus was coming in this part of town. So she decided to see Jesus. Even though she had no business of going out in a crowd, for all she would get contact with would become unclean. According to the law, if she touch Jesus, she would make Him ceremoniously unclean.
Yet this woman was determined to elbow, push and claw her way through the crowd. Though pale and weak, nothing would stand in her way. She was unshakable on her mission. She believed that if only she could touch Jesus’ cloak, she would be healed.
She finally reached Jesus. She approached Him from behind, typical of the modus operandi of a pickpocket. Then she stretched out her hand.
If you’re going to touch somebody in a crowd, isn’t it easier to touch the shoulder or back? Why stoop down and touch the hem of the cloak? We may think that like a pickpocket, she does not want Jesus to feel her touch, so the edge of the garment would do. But there’s more significance to this edge of the garment.
In the Mosaic Law, God instructed His people about the corners, or fringes, of their garments. In Numbers 15: 38-39 it says:
Speak to the children of Israel: Tell them to make tassels on the corners of their garments throughout their generations, and to put a blue thread in the tassels of the corners. And you shall have the tassel, that you may look upon it and remember all the commandments of the LORD and do them, and that you may not follow the harlotry to which your own heart and your own eyes are inclined, and that you may remember and do all My commandments, and be holy for your God.
It seems like a strange instruction for us but in the Ancient Near East culture, the corner of a person’s garment represented his identity; it was a symbol of who he was and what he stood for. It is like an insignia, or perhaps a monogramed initials on the shirt.
In the story of Ruth, when she was seeking marriage to Boaz, she asked him to spread the corner of his garment over her (Ruth 3:9). It was a request for him to identify with her. The same Hebrew word means “wing” or “corner of a garment.”
When God spoke of making a covenant with His people, He pictured Himself as spreading the corner of His garment over Israel (Ezekiel 16:8)—a symbol of identifying with her as His bride.
In the story of David when he was running away from Saul, one day Saul fell asleep at the mouth of the cave where David and his men were hiding. David sneaked in and cut off a corner of King Saul’s robe, but “afterward David’s heart struck him” (1 Samuel 24:5). These pangs of remorse seem strange unless we realize that he had defaced an important symbol of Saul’s identity and God-given kingship.
So important were the corners of a man’s garment for the Jews that the Old Testament closes with a prophecy of the Messiah that references the corners of His garment: “But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings” (Malachi 4:2 KJV. Again, the same word means both “wings” and “corners of a garment”). At the heart of the Messiah’s identity would be healing for all who have faith in Him.
So when this woman reached out to the hem of Jesus’ coat, it was more than just for healing, but she was identifying with Him and what He stands for. She was embracing that Jesus is the promised Messiah who has healing in His wings.
This woman was not the only one healed when they touched the edge of Jesus’ garment. In Matthew 14, when Jesus was in Genneseret, perhaps after people heard this woman’s story, sick people lined up by the road where He would pass, and all who touched the edge of His coat were healed.
When this woman touched Jesus’ garment, “immediately” she felt that her bleeding stopped. She was instantly healed! And she felt it. But somebody felt it too. Jesus felt it too.
Then Jesus asked around who touched him. The disciples thought that Jesus was being silly. Why asked who touched him when we knew that a crowd of people was almost crushing him. But Jesus said “I know that power has gone out from me” (8:46). The Greek word translated “power” (NIV) or “virtue” (KJV) is dunamis, from which we get our English words “dynamo,” “dynamic,” and “dynamite.” That must have been a power surge that left Jesus. And He was looking for the power pickpocket.
Why did Jesus want to confront the woman and make her secret known? I can think of two reasons. The first one was to release her from the burden of uncleanliness and to take away the stigma. It was to make known to her and to the people around that He accepted her, and that she does not need to be incognito or invisible anymore. Secondly, to let her know that it was not the magical power of His cloak, but it was her faith in Him that healed her.
Ironically there were many people around pressing upon Jesus. But they have only brushed and casually touched Him. Are we one of those people in the crowd? Always in church, sits in the pew every week, present in all the church’s activities, and yet we have not really reached out to Jesus with that touch of faith.
I pray that we be like that woman – who have that elbowing-and-clawing-my-way kind of faith, that nothing-can-stand-on-my-way kind of faith. And that we reach out to Jesus. Be identified with Him and who He is. And that we embrace the Messiah, our Savior, who has healing in His wings.
This is my prayer.
(*all photos taken during our visit in the Holy Land a couple of years ago)
Summer has arrived as temperature in our neck of the woods is now climbing consistently into the 80’s Fahrenheit. Though the official start of summer, which is the summer’s solstice – the longest day of the year, is not until tomorrow. I am sure our mercury will rise above 90’s F (above 32 C) or even in the 100’s F (37.5 C and above) in the days to come.
Here are some of the summer colors I captured in the past week:
The first photo was taken in downtown Kansas City, when we made a stopover here on our way to visit our son who is working for two months in a summer camp in Missouri.
The next photo was taken in the downtown Botanical Garden here in Des Moines when we checked it out a few days ago.
My wife also got new planters and have started planting annual flowers that hopefully will not just last for the dog days of summer but late until the cold winter wind blows. Here are some flowers in our deck:
The photo below was taken two days ago when I drove down to southern Iowa for our outreach clinic. As you can see, even a summer’s day can become foggy, dull, and gloomy.
However. even if the day gets gray, there is still a possibility of beautiful colors shining through. And that is true in all aspects of our life. Photo below was taken from our front porch:
I am wishing you all a fun, delightful, and colorful summer.
Italian cuisine is one of the best among the world’s cuisine. It is one of the most popular and most copied type of food as well. And where can you find the best authentic Italian food? In Italy of course!
When we visited Italy last month, we covered most of the country, from the northern region, with cities like Milan and Venice, to the central region which is Tuscany, including the cities of Pisa and Florence, and to the southern region, in Rome and even down to the Amalfi coast.
By the way, we avail the services of JDC Private Tours when we were in Italy, that’s why we were able to visit so many places and packed so many activities in such a short period of time. I was more than happy and have only compliments of their business.
Part of our trip of course was sampling authentic Italian food. Their cuisine is known for its regional diversity, especially between the north and south of the Italian peninsula.
Overall, the Italian foods that we ate, from the ‘street’ and on-the-go food to the long sit-down fine dining with 5-course dinner, (one evening we’re treated out by a friend from Rome and we ate dinner for almost 2 hours!), and from the appetizer like bruschetta, to the dessert like tiramisu, were all very good. It was really a delightful gastronomical experience.
Here in the United States, when we talked about Italian food, we think mostly of pizza and pasta. However, many of the “Italian” food we have here are somewhat modified to cater to the American taste.
For instance, when we went to one local restaurant in Rome, there was a note in their menu that says, “we don’t serve spaghetti with meatballs, fettucini alfredo, and lasagna.” That was interesting. Perhaps that’s all the American tourists order, and to the locals those were not even really authentic Italian dishes.
To say that Italy have many kinds of pasta, is an understatement. After all it is the mecca of pasta. But one thing peculiar is all their pasta are served “al dente.” Meaning it is really firm, teetering to raw, that you have to bite and chew it before you can swallow.
Another thing is that the Italian pizza is not served pre-sliced. They give it to you as a whole piece, fresh from the wood-burning oven, and they give a fork and a knife for you to slice it yourself. I heard that when they first introduced pizza in New York City long long time ago, somebody had the bright idea of serving it by the slice and made more money from it. Since then pizza in the US is served pre-sliced.
In one restaurant we went to in northern Italy, I was impressed on how many types of sauce or variation they have for pizza. The menu had 3 pages just for pizza! And Hawaiian pizza? That’s not even in the menu, because as you can surmise, that’s an American version of an Italian dish.
As a Filipino who grew up in Manila, I also have a different concept of an Italian dish. My favorite is the Greenwich pizza, which I understand is a Filipino brand of pizzeria. Furthermore, I used to think that spaghetti always have a sweet-tasting sauce, just like how my mother prepares it, which is close to the taste of spaghetti in Jollibee, the largest Filipino chain of fast-food restaurants.
When I migrated to America more than 20 years ago, the first time we dined in an “authentic” Italian Restaurant in New Jersey named Trattoria, I was a little surprised that the spaghetti tasted “sour.” In fact me and my wife looked at each other and said to ourselves, maybe the sauce was spoiled as it tasted different. That was an ignoramus moment for us.
Back to our tour of Italy, we landed in Milan airport and stayed in Milan for two nights. On our first day, we were so tired and jet-lagged that my son and daughter went to sleep without having dinner. But my wife and I, despite being tired, felt the hunger pangs and so we went out to eat.
Since we were in the heart of the city of Milan, there were several decent restaurants around our hotel. In fact in our hotel itself was a good ‘ristorante,’ but my wife and I wanted to explore the city. And lo and behold, just walking two blocks from where we were staying, we found what we were looking for.
We were excited as we enter the restaurant. Then we ordered our very first meal in Italy. I understand that you cannot go wrong if you order pasta in Italy, and that’s what I did. I ordered spaghetti. And when I tasted the spaghetti, it was all what I envisioned. It was good.
In case you are wondering what restaurant we went to for our first Italian dinner?
It was Jollibee!
(*Jollibee opened in Milan last year, and was the first ever Jollibee branch and only one so far in Europe.)
This period is one of my favorite time of the year when it’s not too cold and not too hot either. Plus the flowers are blooming. Smelling flowers are much more enjoyable than shoveling snow, you know.
I would like to share some photos of what are blooming now in our garden, that have not been eaten yet by the deer or the wild rabbits.
Purple allium and white alliums:
By the way, Allium is the Latin word for garlic. As you can surmise these plants belongs to the family of onions, garlic and shallots. Since these blooms are in the family of onions, they have the trademark smell.
Peony is named after Paeon, the Greek god of medicine and healing. I don’t know if these flowers have curative properties. But one thing for sure, they are fragrant and maybe that’s healing enough.
These large flowers last about two weeks only, so might as well take the opportunity to gather them and display them inside as well.
Below are flowers not from our garden but from a grocery store. I included them here since I like my photo of it.
Despite allergies and all, there’s one unwritten rule in our household: No fake flowers allowed.
The last photo is the harvested peonies. And a selfie of course.
(*Credit to my wife, the master horticulturist; all photos taken with an iPhone)
Since the month of June just rolled in, let’s talk about weddings.
Few weeks ago I was asked to emcee a wedding reception. Actually, my daughter (now 21) and I were the emcees and I really enjoyed the experience. I have done emceeing for same kind as well as other events before, but this was the first time I shared the task with my daughter. We got compliments in doing the gig, so maybe next time we should charge a fee for our services.
In preparation for the job we did some research of some of the common wedding traditions and its origins. What we found about these traditions were really fascinating and some even shocking. I’ll share some of them here:
Wedding veil. This wedding tradition dates back to the days when the marriages were pre-arranged. Well, I understand that arranged marriages exist up to this day. Traditionally, the bride’s family or perhaps also the groom’s family would not allow the groom to see his bride until the day of the wedding. This is because if he didn’t like her looks, there was a chance that he might not agree to marry her. Thus, the veil was used to conceal the bride’s appearance up until the time the groom raises the veil after the ceremony. I can only imagine how many grooms got surprised or perhaps even horrified on their wedding day.
Bridesmaids. It is now customary to have bridesmaids to be part of the wedding entourage. They usually wear matching outfits that are similar or closely similar to the bride’s. According to the tradition and superstition, the reason there were bridesmaids that were garb with same clothes as the bride was to confuse the evil spirits and prevent them from finding the bride and thus spare her harm. I wonder if during those days when the bride blends with her bridesmaids, did that confused the groom too?
Bestman. The groom usually picks his closest friend or a brother to be his bestman. However centuries ago, men resort to stealing or kidnapping their bride-to-be from their family if they disapprove of him. So the groom chooses his “best man” to protect him and his bride from the pursuing family. They are called best man for a reason, as they are the best swordsman or the best warrior. And so you thought their job was just to secure the wedding rings.
Bride and Groom’s position. It is by tradition that the bride stands at the left side of the groom during the wedding ceremony. So when they face the congregation, the bride is on the right and the groom is on the left from the perspective of the audience. I heard that the reason for this is because the bride should be always right. I am not arguing that, because my wife tells me so. However, the real reason for the tradition again dates back centuries ago, when duels can ensue during the wedding. The bride is on the left side of the groom so his right arm is free to hold a sword in case there is a fight.
Ring on the left hand’s fourth finger. Do you even wonder why we put our wedding band on the left fourth finger? The reason we put the ring here is because the Romans believe that there is an artery in this finger that connects directly straight to the heart. However, anatomically that does not exist. It’s a myth. If I can suggest it should be worn on the middle finger. So when somebody annoyingly flirts with you, you can flash your middle finger with your wedding band on it, to tell them to back off.
Bride’s flower bouquet. At the recent wedding that we emceed for, the ceremony was delayed as the bouquet of flowers was delivered late. So we have to wait for several minutes until the flowers arrived. Obviously the ceremony is not complete nowadays without it. However in the olden times, the bride carry a bouquet for a more practical reason. During the time of the Bubonic Plague in Europe where millions of people die, the bride carry a bouquet of garlic and herbs to cover up the stench of death around them. It was also thought that the bouquet of herbs or flowers can ward the evil spirits.
Bouquet toss. It is now a tradition that the bride will toss her bouquet of flowers to the gathered single ladies. The one who caught the bouquet is thought to be the next in line to be wed. However that was not the purpose the bride throw away the bouquet centuries ago. During those days, the crowd could be so envious of the bride that they would attack her, tore up her clothes and grab her bouquet. So the bride would purposely toss the bouquet to the crowd to prevent her from being assaulted. What a mean crowd.
That’s all for now folks. Do you know of other wedding traditions with bizarre ancient origin?
Lastly, I heard that before it became a traditional wedding march, it was actually a wedding run….