Ano kaya ang isini-serve sa restaurant na ito? Maasim na sikmura? Sakit ng tiyan? O kaya LBM? Kahit gutom na kami, hindi namin pinangahasang kumain dito.
Kung puro Pinoy lang ang mga turista, siguradong malulugi ang café na ito.
(*photo taken in Paris)
We have been to Chicago several times before, perhaps ten times or more, yet we were there again last Valentine’s weekend. It’s not that Chicago is a particularly romantic place, but we were there for a different reason.
The 2020 NBA All-Star weekend was in Chicago during that time, but we were not there for that reason as well. Though I wish I could have watched the NBA All-Star games. (This post has nothing to do with the NBA team Chicago Bulls.)
We went to Chicago to see a concert. Whose concert? It’s a group that our daughter introduced us to, and she’s a big fan of them. She is a music major and a classical pianist if you have not known that already, and I would say that she has a good taste for music. But we did not watch an opera, for I don’t think I could really appreciate that kind of music genre. The concert that we watched was of a group of three young tenors that are classic-pop crossover who fondly call their music “popera.”
Many of the songs they sang were in Italian, like “O Sole Mio” and “Grande Amore,” though they have some cover of old polular songs like Frank Senatra’s “My Way” and Barbara Streisand’s “People.” I told my daughter that at least I could understand 1 out of 2 songs that they sang.
We also have relatives from the Philippines that are visiting us here in Iowa so we brought them along for the drive to see Chicago. Even though it was too cold to roam around yet we were still able to show them some of the famous spots of the city. Is the Jollibee restaurant a part of that famous location for a Filipino tour? Of course!
We also took our guests up the viewing deck at the 103rd floor of Willis Tower (previously known as Sears Tower). It took us almost 3 hours to get to the top, not that we have to climb the stairs, for that would be much faster. It was the line of people waiting to go up that was really long. Definitely a painfully long time to wait for an elevator ride.
We booked rooms in a hotel in downtown Chicago at the heart of the city’s bustling traffic. Nearby our hotel was a fire station. So you could imagine the street noise that we could hear even if we were already on the 12th floor of the building. Sure enough it was hard to sleep at night due to the sounds of wailing sirens and cars honking. No wonder they provided ear plugs as part of their amenities.
I am not used to hearing car horns already let alone hearing them almost continuously through the night. I thought the beeping would only last during rush hours, but no it did not stop. People were honking their car horns even at the unholy time of 3 o’clock in the morning. Unless they consider that rush hour still, or perhaps these people were drunk or just plain rude. Well, it’s Chicago’s bullhorns!
Don’t get me wrong, I like the city of Chicago and I have been exposed to noisy environment in my life as I grew up in Manila and I also lived for a few years in New York City. But I have been in Iowa now for 16 years and have adapted to peaceful rural living.
But we’re back in Iowa now. I’m back to the quiet nights where the only noise I could hear when it gets dark is the rare hooting of the illusive owl and the deafening sounds of my thoughts.
(*photos taken with an iPhone)
We Filipinos are fond of fairy tales. The wedding of celebrity doctors Vicki Belo and Hayden Kho in 2017 was nothing short of a fairy tale. At least in the place and setting where it happened.
I was waiting for my invitation to that great event but I think the mailman misplaced it. On second thought, maybe I was not really invited.
So I did the next best thing, I visited the place where the wedding reception was held. It was in the Opera House in Paris, or also known as Palais Garnier.
This 19th century architectual masterpiece was built by Charles Garnier and opened in 1875. Today, it is home to Paris Ballet, and besides being a venue for great art performances, it is also open for visitors to tour. Well, I guess it can be rented for a wedding reception too.
It was almost closing time when we got to the Opera House, and so we did not have much time to roam, but just enough to get a feel of this grandiose place.
Here’s the majestic staircase where Belo and Hayden did their magical wedding dance.
Of course I had to climb up those steps as if I’m in a fairy tale story too. My wife and I did not dance though on those stairs for we might stumble and fall, and end up in a tragic tale instead.
Here’s the grand foyer (photo below) where the wedding banquet and tables were set up. The newly wed couple and their guests dined under these intricate painted ceilings and opulent lights.
As I said, this is an Opera House, so here’s the auditorium that can sit 2000 people and where the real magical performances are happening.
Below is an interesting Christmas tree made up of ballet shoes which was displayed during our visit. I have no idea what the golden tractor tires are for.
There is also a mystery surrounding the construction of this palatial edifice that facts and fictions are blurred. The famous tale of the “Phantom of the Opera,” a classic novel by a Frenchman, Gaston Leroux, a story that was retold in so many ways was inspired from the history of Palais Garnier.
We roamed around the halls perhaps looking for traces of Belo or perhaps searching for the phantom, until a lady with a bell called everyone still inside the opera house announcing that it was time to close. We were among the last ones who exited the place that night.
I know this place was already enchanting even before Belo rented this place. Maybe someday I’ll have my birthday bash or a wedding anniversary here. Alright, I’ll dream on.
From Belo’s wedding reception place, albeit two years too late,
Pinoytransplant.
(*photos taken with an iPhone at Palais Garnier, Paris)
It is scenic and relaxing…..
But it can become violent and destructive.
Praying for the Philippines and all the people affected by Taal volcano’s eruption.
Isa sa pinaka-mabentang artikulong inilathala ko sa blog na ito ay ang “Question and Answer: Sakit sa Balakang” (posted Sept 2016). Hanggang ngayon ay mahigit sa 100 tao kada araw pa rin ang sumisilip sa artikulong ito. Marami talaga yatang may masakit na balakang sa ating mga Pilipino. Bakit kaya?
Dahil marami pa rin ang nagtatanong tungkol sa sakit sa balakang, at dahil halos magkakatulad naman ang mga katanungan ay tumigil na po akong sagutin ito ng isa-isa. Pero naglathala naman ako ng aking pang-finale na sagot, “Sakit sa Balakang: Final Answer” (posted Aug 2018).
May natatanggap pa rin akong mga tanong sa sakit sa balakang hanggang sa ngayon, pero dedma na lang po ako. Pero noong nakaraang ilang linggo ay may nagtanong na hindi ko yata kayang palampasin lang, dahil maraming anggulo ito. Kaya’t heto na naman ako, sasagot muli sa isang katanungan.
Ito ang tanong ni Rowena (last name witheld).
Good day po.
Dati po bewang ang medyo masakit na parang ngalay sa akin ng mga nakakaraang araw. After ilang days sumakit po balakang ko sa bandang kaliwa lalo na pag nahakbang ang kaliwa kong paa. Nag pa-check up po ako at may UTI daw po ako. Niresetahan ako ng antibiotic at sambong. Pero kinagabihan lalo tumindi ang sakit.
At bago po nangyari ang lahat, meron po kasing nanghihingi ng limos na babaeng Badjao na may dalang bata. Hindi ko po s’ya nabigyan dahil wala akong barya. Para po siyang nagalit. Bago umalis tinapik po niya ako sa kaliwang bahagi ng balakang.
Nalilito na po ako at nahihirapan. Kaya po nag-search ako at baka may makatulong sa akin. Maraming salamat po.
Dear Rowena,
Sa iyong pagpapahayag ng iyong sintomas, sa aking tingin ay may kinalaman sa galugod (spine) ang dahilan ng iyong sakit sa balakang. Lalo na kapag gumagapang ang sakit sa hita at paa, at kung tumitindi ito kapag naglalakad. Maaring naiiipit ang ugat (nerve root) sa galugod kaya’t sumasakit at parang nangangalay.
Paki-basa na lang ng buo iyong artikulo kong Question and Answer: Sakit sa Balakang para sa mas kumpletong paliwanag at iba pang sanhi ng sakit sa balakang.
Kung ito ay UTI o kaya’y bato sa pantog o daanan ng ihi, maaring makaranas din ng matinding sakit, ngunit ang sakit ay hindi dapat gumagapang hanggang paa. Kung may iba pang gumagapang o nang-gagapang sa iyong hita, eh baka pulis na ang iyong kailangan.
Hindi ako pamilyar sa sambong, kaya’t ni-research ko pa kung ano ito. Ito ang aking napag-alaman tungkol sa sambong:
Ang sambong ay isang mabangong halaman. Ang scientific name nito ay “Blumea balsamifera” o “Blumea camphor.” Ito ay may medicinal properties. Isa rito ay ang diuretic effect – ito iyong nagdudulot ng pagpapaihi. Maari itong makatulong sa UTI o kaya para mailabas ang bato sa daanan ng ihi.
Dahil ang sambong ay mayroong methanolic compounds, ito ay nakakatulong din sa ubo at sipon. Ito rin ay may antibiotic properties dahil ito ay naglalaman ng cyptomeridiol at ichthyotherol acetate. Hindi naman siguro dahil sa sambong kaya’t lalong tumindi ang sakit ng iyong balakang, maliban na lang kung tumungga ka ng balde baldeng tsaa ng sambong ay maari itong makasikmura.
Tungkol naman sa mga Badjao, sila ay isa sa mga diskriminadong katutubong lahi ng tao. Sila ay kilala na “Gypsies of the Sea,” dahil sila ay nakatira sa mga kubo sa dalampasigan o kaya’y sa mga bangka na matatagpuan sa Sulu Sea. Ang kanilang kabuhayan ay ang pangingisda o pagsisid sa mga perlas.
Dahil sa digmaan, politikal na mga isyu, diskriminasyon, at komersyalisasyon ng pangingisda, sila ay natataboy sa kanilang tahanan sa karagatan. Marami sa kanila ay umaalis sa kanilang tradisyonal na lugar at nakikipagsapalaran sa mga barrio at lungsod.
Alam kong may mga Badjao na gumagala-gala sa mga siyudad at humihingi ng limos. Hindi ko alam kung ginagamit pa sila ng mga sindikato. Ngunit huwag naman po sana natin silang paratangan na mayroon silang dalang sumpa o kulam sa mga taong hindi sila napagbigyan, o mga taong hindi nila nagugustuhan.
Una sa lahat, hindi po ako naniniwala sa sumpa ng Badjao. Pangalawa, hindi na nga natin sila matulungan, napag-iisipan pa natin sila ng masama at inaakusahan na nais nila tayong saktan.
Rowena, alam kong naghahanap ka lang ng kasagutan sa iyong nararamdamang sakit, ngunit ako’y nakatitiyak na walang kinalaman ang pagtapik sa iyo ng Badjao. Pero kung sinabi mong hinambalos ka o tinadyakan ka ng Badjao, ay ibang usapan na iyon, at maaaring mo siyang paratangan na sanhi ng iyong sakit sa balakang.
Hanggang dito na lamang po muli, at salamat sa patuloy ninyong pagtangkilik.
Pasko na naman, miss ko na naman ang Pilipinas. Pitong taon na pala nang huli kaming mag-Pasko sa atin. Pero kakaiba ang aking karanasan noong huli akong mag-Pasko sa Pilipinas. Gusto ko lang itong alalahanin.
(Ang orihinal an akda ay nalathala Disyembre 2014)
*******
Disyembre 25, araw ng Pasko. Ako ay nakaupo sa isang kahoy na bangko. Sa paligid ko ay grasa, mga lumang gulong, kalas-kalas na makina ng kotse, at kalat-kalat na kasangkapang pang-mekaniko.
Ako ay nasa loob ng talyer.
Ano kamo ang ginagawa ko sa talyer sa mismong araw ng Pasko? Naghihintay! Hindi kay Santa Claus, kundi sa aming sasakyan na nasira. Ito ang aking kwento…..
Matapos ang maraming taon na lumagi sa Amerika, at matapos maranasan ang maraming “White Christmas,” kami ng aming pamilya ay umuwi upang mag-Pasko sa Pilipinas. Mula sa Maynila ay umarkila kami ng van upang dumalaw sa aming mga kamag-anak sa Ilocos Norte at Ilocos Sur.
Pagkatapos naming mag-celebrate ng bisperas ng Pasko at makipag-Noche Buena sa Vigan, kami ay dapat magbibyaheng pabalik sa Maynila upang doon naman magdiwang ng araw ng Pasko kasama ng mga kamag-anak at kaibigan sa Metro Manila.
Ngunit napurnada ang aming plano. Nasira ang aming arkiladong sasakyan. May tumutulo sa ilalim ng makina. May butas daw sa karburador ng aming van.
Ginalugad namin ang buong Vigan upang humanap ng bukas na talyer, ngunit lahat ng aming puntahan ay sarado. Sino nga bang kumag ang gustong magtrabaho ng Pasko?
Naalala ko tuloy si Jose at si Maria na malapit nang manganak, noong kauna-unahang Pasko, sila ay naghahanap ng silid na matutuluyan doon sa bayan ng Bethlehem, ngunit wala silang nakita kundi isang kuwadra. Mapalad nga kami mayroon kaming tinulugan at talyer lang ang aming kailangan.
Matapos naming puntahan ang apat o limang service station at talyer, ay nakatagpo rin kami ng isang lugar na pumayag na kami ay pagsilbihan.
Sumalubong sa amin sa pinto ng talyer ay isang babaeng may kargang bata. Sabi niya ay may binili lang sa palengke ang kanyang mister, na siyang mekaniko doon sa naturang talyer.
Hindi nagtagal ay dumating na ang isang mamang nakamotorsiklo. Siya ay may bitbit na kalahating isda na lapu-lapu at iba pang rekado. Siya ang aming hinihintay na mekaniko. Pagkatapos niyang iabot ang mga pinamili sa kanyang maybahay, kami ay kanyang malugod na hinarap at inasikaso.
Hindi rin nagtagal ay sinumulan na niyang buting-tingin ang aming sirang sasakyan. Walang makikitang bahid ng pagkabugnot si manong. Sa katunayan ganado at pasipol-sipol pa ito sa paggawa, kahit amin siyang binulabog sa araw ng Pasko.
Lumipas ang isa…..dalawa…..tatlo……apat na oras……patuloy pa rin sa mano-manong pagkukumpuni ang aming mekaniko. Hindi pa rin tapos ang aming sasakyan. Hindi “White Christmas” kundi “Wait Christmas” ang nangyari sa amin.
Aaminin ko, ako ay nayamot sa kakahintay. Hindi lang siguro yamot kundi galit pa ang sumagi sa aking isip. Bakit ba nabutas ang hinayupak na karburador? Hindi ko kailangan ito! Hindi ako naglakabay ng malayo, lumipad ng eroplano, tumawid ng dagat upang mag-Pasko lamang sa talyer!
Ngunit may leksiyon yatang nais ipahatid sa akin ang Diyos sa Paskong ito.
Sa aking paghihintay, ay wala akong ibang libangan kundi magmasid sa loob ng talyer. Sa isang sulok ng talyer ay isang maliit na silid na mahigit lamang sa isang dipa ang luwag. Dito marahil nakatira ang pamilya ng aming mekaniko. Sila ay may dalawang anak. Tunay na masikip at halos kasya lang silang apat matulog doon.
Ang nakatatandang batang babae, ay marahil apat o limang taong gulang. Madusing ang kanyang kasuotan, ngunit masaya itong naglalaro sa loob ng talyer, sa gitna ng lupa at grasa. Matahimik itong gumigiling-giling sa sariling niyang tugtog at himig. Siya ay kontento sa maliit niyang mundo. Alam kaya niyang Pasko ngayon? Meron kaya siyang pamaskong natanggap?
Ang bunso naman ay halos sanggol pa lang, ay natutulog sa nakalatag na banig sa munting silid. Si Santa Claus at mga lumilipad na reindeers kaya ang kanyang panaginip? O baka naman lumilipad na ipis? Ano naman rin kaya ang napamaskuhan nito?
Habang nagtratrabaho si mister sa aming van, ay nagluluto naman si misis sa kabilang sulok ng talyer. Marahil ang kalahating lapu-lapung binili sa palengke ang kanilang pagsasalu-saluhan sa Paskong ito. Meron din naman silang konting buko salad na nasa maliit na tupperware at may isang pitchel na iced-tea rin silang handa.
Inalok pa nga ako ng buko salad at iced tea ni misis, ngunit nahiya naman ako’t akin itong tinanggihan.
Kahit kakaunti, sila ay maligaya at handa pa nilang ibahagi ang kaunting meron sila. Ako kaya? Maligaya ba ako ngayong Pasko? Hindi! Naiimbiyerna at nagmumukmok ako dahil sa nadiskaril ang aming mga plano. Sino kaya sa amin ang may tunay na ispirito ng Pasko?
Hindi kalaunan ay nagising na ang bunsong bata. Maya-maya pa ay malikot na itong pagapang-gapang sa sulok ng talyer. Nang aking tanungin kung ilang buwan o taon na ang kanilang bunsong babae, ay napapahiyang sinabi ng aming mekaniko, na lalaki at hindi babae ang kanilang bunsong anak. Nakadamit babae lamang daw ito, dahil wala silang mapasuot na damit kundi mga pinaglakihan ng kanyang ate.
Parang biglang winalis ang aking pagkayamot. Wala akong dapat ireklamo.
Hindi na nagtagal at natapos na ring kumpunihin ang aming sasakyan. Sa wakas makakabiyahe na rin kaming pabalik sa Maynila. Sa wakas matutuloy na rin ang aming selebrasyon ng Pasko!
Ngunit mas mahalaga sa lahat, ay mayroong kakaibang damdamin ang umusbong sa aking puso. May kakaibang pananaw ang nabuo sa aking isipan. Matapos sumahin ng mekaniko kung magkano ang aming babayaran, ay may bago nang ispirito ng Pasko ang naghahari sa aking katauhan.
Pinasobrahan ko ang bayad na aking inabot, sabay sambit ng “Salamat at Maligayang Pasko sa inyong pamilya.”
Abot-tenga ang ngiti ni manong, sabay bati rin ng “Merry Christmas sir! May pambili na nang bagong damit si bunso.”
Mula sa sabsaban, isinilang ang ating Manunubos. Mula sa talyer, ako’y pina-alalahanan ng tamang diwa ng Pasko.
(*photos taken in Vigan, Christmas 2012)
My wife recently replaced our kitchen counter stools for they were worn out from years of use. The seat area had thinned out with some of the sea grass weaves torn or missing. We’re afraid that one of these days those seats might give out and we end up falling to the floor. Or worse, a visitor would fall to the floor.
When we were looking for replacement chairs, we decided to have an authentic Asian-inspired furniture. We thought that it should be made of yantok sticks, or bamboo, or rattan. Though we are not living in the Philippines anymore, we hope that our chairs will at least give us that Filipino-feel.
We have several Philippine-inspired items in our home besides my old barong that is collecting dust in the closet. We have an abaca runner on our dining table. We have capiz table plate mats that we bought from the Philippines. We also have the sungka (Filipino mancala game) that we placed atop of the center table in our living room which many of our guests are interested to learn how to play. We even have a parol made of capiz that was given to us years ago and we hang it every Christmas on our window.
So my wife searched high and low for new kitchen chairs. She looked for them in our local malls and furniture stores. She also searched the internet. If only she could visit the furniture shops at Calle Crisologo in Vigan, I believe she would. But finally she found what she was looking for.
When the chairs were delivered, I thought they were Asian- inspired alright. The stools are made of wood, almost like yantok, and the seat is made of woven strips like banig. When you move them, they even create that certain sound from our wood floor that is reminiscent of what we had in the Philippines. Beside being beautifully-crafted, they are sturdily-made as well.
However, they did not look like the popular chairs in the Philippines, the ones made of bentwood and solihiya rattan, that are so ubiquitous you can find them on every provincial home or rural carinderia. So I teased my wife that our chairs are not authentic enough or Filipino enough.
Few nights ago, when we were having dinner, I was a little excited as my wife cooked kare-kare, which we infrequently have except on rare occasions. I know the dish is rich and delicious (pamatay sa sarap), but too much and too often could be too rich for the coronaries (pamatay talaga).
We didn’t have bagoong that night, instead we had patis (fish sauce) to add to the flavor of the kare-kare. In my haste, I accidentally tipped the bowl where the patis was and it spilled into the countertop. The patis even flowed over into the new chair! Needless to say, the whole kitchen stank like patis.
Even after wiping the spilled patis, the smell lingered. The new chair smell like patis too. That might have added authenticity to the chair and I think they are now Filipino enough.
Where do old couch go?
Few days ago, my son and I carried out our old couch to the end of our driveway for waste management to pick-up. Would it be recycled into a new form or would it rest in a land fill? I don’t know. This is not the first time though, that I have dealt with a couch on a curb.
About two and a half decades ago, I came to United States on a training visa to start my medical residency. I had one suitcase in hand which was all my belongings plus a few dollars in my wallet. Leaving our home in the Philippines, I arrived in Morristown, New Jersey and stayed with another Filipino medical resident whom I just met. I crashed at his apartment for I have no place of my own.
One day we saw a couch left at the street curb to be picked up by the garbage collector. Seeing that the couch still has some life left on it, I thought it could be of use to me. My friend and I scooped up the sofa before the garbage truck could pick it up. Of course we inspected it first and it passed our visual and smell test.
A month later after I received my first paycheck, I was able to move to my own apartment. My friend and I transported the couch from his residence to mine which was 1 kilometer away. No, we did not load it on a truck for we had no truck. We carried it through that distance. Even though it was not that big, it seemed that it got heavier and heavier as we went further along. Especially considering that we were two scrawny and muscularly-challenged guys.
Good thing was, midway, somebody saw us struggling with our load. She flagged us down and asked how far we were going. We were actually already sitting (and panting) on the couch taking a break at the side of the road. The lady lent us a furniture dolley so we can roll the sofa instead of lifting it, and she said to just bring it back when we’re done. That was nice of her. That was one of my first impression of that place – that people were nice and trustful of their neighbors.
The lady even asked if it was some kind of a special “oriental” couch that we were transporting. Perhaps she was wondering if it was that valuable that we would go through all that trouble. If only she knew that we just picked it up from the street curb.
Several months later, my wife got her visa and came to America to join me. We used that salvaged couch for a couple of years. When we moved to New York, we did not bring it along anymore. We left it at a street curb for the garbage collector or perhaps somebody else to pick up. Did it find another owner? I don’t know.
We moved several more times since then and in fact, we had 10 different address changes until we finally moved to our current address. It seemed like we were in a witness-protection program that we kept on moving, roughly every year. However, we are living in our present home for 14 years now and counting.
Regarding this couch that my son and I just placed at the curb, we bought it when we were still in Florida after we moved out of California. We got it on a clearance sale. We really did not care about its blue color, but my wife thought she could make a cover for it. Her family’s business when they were growing up in Pampanga was making drapes and seat covers. After she made a phone call to her brother and asked for some tips, she sewed a white fabric cover for our couch. It turned out pretty good actually.
We hauled this sofa along when we eventually moved here in Iowa. We have sat on it, lounged on it, spilled food on it, my kids barfed on it and I spent many lazy days sleeping (and drooling) on it. Over the years of use the covers that my wife made got torn and for a long time now we were just tossing a white blanket over it. It has seen better days and now it is time for it to have another life apart from us.
As we placed our couch at the curb, I sat there for a few moments, reminisced, and watched as the season (and our life’s season) turns. There are so many things to be thankful for. Including old couches.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
(*photos taken with an iPhone)
(Nais ko po muling balikan ang isang akda na aking isinulat walong taon na ang nakalipas, inilathala Oktubre 7, 2011.)
Lumalamig na naman ang simoy ng hangin dito sa amin. Tumitingkad na rin ang mga kulay ng mga dahon at nagiging ginintuan at pula. Unti-unti rin silang nalalagas, nalalaglag at kumakalat sa lupa. Dahan-dahang namang kumukupas ang mga luntiang kulay ng damo sa aming paligid.
Lipas na naman ang tag-araw. Hindi magtatagal ay tagginaw na naman. Lilipad na naman at babalut sa kapaligiran ang puting niyebe.
Nakaupo at nakahalukipkip sa isang sulok ng aming tahanan ang aking nanay. Siya ay dumadalaw sa amin dito sa Amerika, at mahigit dalawang buwan na rin siyang namalagi dito. Ito ay pangatlong pagkakataon niyang makarating dito sa aming lugar. Ang unang dalaw niya dito, mga ilang taon na ang nakalilipas, ay sa kalagitnaan ng tag-lamig, dahil gusto raw niyang masaksihan ang niyebe. Ngunit dahil sa sumusuot sa butong ginaw ng tag-lamig dito, ay ayaw na niyang manatili at maranasang muli ang tagginaw.
Dahil na rin siguro sa kanyang edad, ay hindi na siya mahilig mag-lalabas at mamasyal. Pinipili pa niyang umupo sa isang tabi at maiwan na lamang sa loob ng aming bahay. Masaya na siya sa panonood sa kanyang mga apo, o dumungaw sa bintana at magmasid sa kapaligirang mundo na patuloy sa pag-ikot. Maaring maligaya na siya na magbalik tanaw na lamang sa mga kasaysayan ng kanyang buhay.
Lahat ay nagbabago. Walang sinisino.
Malaki na rin ang ipinagbago ng aking ina mula ng ako’y unang tumulak parito sa Amerika. Hukot na ang kanyang tindig. Mahina na ang kanyang mga kamay: mga kamay na minsang panahon ay malalakas sa pag-aaruga sa aking kabataan. Malabo na rin ang kanyang mga mata: mga matang minsa’y kay linaw sa pagbabantay noon sa aking kalikutan. Purol na rin ang kanyang pandinig: mga tengang dati-rati ay matalas na dumidinig ng aking mga iyak at tawag. Mabagal na rin ang kanyang mga hakbang: mga hakbang na noon ay mabibilis sa paghabol sa aking kamusmusan, para ako’y malayo sa panganib.
Pana-panahon lamang ang lahat, ika nga nila. Ang oras ay tumatakbo, hindi naghihintay kaninuman.
Ilang araw pa ay tutulak na muling pabalik sa Pilipinas ang aking nanay, parang ibong manglalakbay na lumilipad patungong timog upang tumakas sa nagbabadyang masungit na taglamig.
Hindi ko alam kung ilang pag-kikita at ilang pag-papaalam pa ang nalalabi sa amin. Panahon lamang ang makapagsasabi. Sana ay nakapagdulot ako ng kasiyahaan bilang isang anak sa aking ina. Ito lamang ang pinaka-matamis na ala-alang maipapabaon ko sa kanya.
Hindi magtatagal ay mauubos at mahuhulog na rin ang lahat ng dahon sa mga puno, at matitira na lamang ay mga hubad na sanga at tangkay nito. Mananatili itong pawang tigang at patay…… hanggang sa panahon ng tag-sibol at muling magsisimula ang panibagong buhay.
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(*Post note: Ang aking ina ay tuluyan nang namaalam tatlong taon matapos kong isulat ang akdang ito.)
(**autumn photo taken from the web)
There are certain things that can evoke strong feelings of homesickness for Filipino expatriates like me. For some it may be witnessing the Manila sunset at Manila Bay. For others it could be the traditional Filipino foods. Maybe for some it is the “fragrant” smell of the kanal and estero (kanya-kanyang trip lang yan).
Last week, I ate some traditional Fililipino food and saw Manila sunset. Manila Sunset Grille, that is!
Manila Sunset Grille is a Filipino restaurant chain with branches mostly in California. I wish they would expand here to the Midwest. Maybe in Iowa?
I flew to California and spent a week there to assist my aunt who underwent cataract surgery. She did not really needed much assistance, except that she was unable to drive for a few days. Driving her around was not a big deal, except that her car is a stick shift sports sedan and I have not driven a stick shift for more than 20 years. But I managed.
It did not stop me either when she suggested that we go and eat at the Manila Sunset Grille even though it was quite a drive through heavy traffic and busy freeways. Stick shift and all, I was determined to go.
Below is what I ordered:
I know, lumpiang sariwa, bibingka and halo-halo may not necessarily go together, but that’s what I have not tasted for a while.
And while I was savoring these food, Jose Mari Chan’s songs were playing over head which adds more to the nostalgic feel. One particular song that stroke a chord was “Christmas in Our Hearts.”
Perhaps it was more than the traditional home food and the Manila sunset that I was really missing. And it’s definitely not the kanal and estero.
(*photos taken with an iPhone)
