Chasing Phantom Fishball

11 April 2018

Yesterday our temperature here in Iowa finally wandered above 50º F. Considering that we had snow last weekend, and even had some flurries the day before with subfreezing temperature, we’re just excited that finally spring has sprung.

I was able to come home early with the sun still way up in the horizon, so I decided to go for a run outside.

I wore my brand new cool running shoes that I bought as a birthday gift for myself. I also planned to wear my new colorful running shorts and nifty running shirt that my wife got me for my birthday, but I found out they were still in the laundry. You see, like a child I need all the enticements to keep me motivated in running.

I’m proud to say that I finished my first outdoor 5-kilometer run for this year. Though I would not deny that I was a little out of condition and I struggled to complete the run.

While I was doing my run and I was on my 4th kilometer navigating through our neighborhood, I suddenly caught a whiff of a very familiar scent. I took a deep breath and inhaled it in to confirm. It was the unmistakably glorious smell of fishballs being fried in a lake of oil on a deep frying pan.

Instantly, I was transported back to my days in Manila, as if I entered a Twilight Zone. I felt I was in Forbes Avenue (now Arsenio Lacson Avenue) in front of the UST Hospital. I could almost hear the jeepneys and buses plying that route. Most afternoons, there was a fishball vendor there with his push-stall near the entrance of the hospital.

It does not matter if health experts say that it may not be “safe” to eat street foods, like fishballs, as you can get hepatitis A and some other illness, especially if you dip the fishballs in those jars of sauces. The reason is that some people do “double dip,” that is after taking a mouthful bite of their fishballs on the stick, they would dip it again in the sauce, and that’s how a disease is spread. Could it be the tincture of slobber that makes it more tasteful?

But my courageous friends and I don’t care what the experts say.

After an exhausting day in the hospital working as medical clerks (4th year medical students), we would trek down outside the hospital in our white uniform and all, and buy those delightful fishballs. While they were still hot and floating in oil, we would make “tusok-tusok” the fishballs with the stick, then dunk them in the different dipping sauces. My favorite one was the black spicy concoction with floating onions and siling labuyo. Sometimes I would also dip in the tangy sweetish brown sauce. Sometimes I would dip in all the three jars of sauce. But I swear, I don’t do double dip.

Interesting enough, during our 25th graduation anniversary meeting and reunion held in our medical school two years ago, they served fishballs on a stick during one of the breaks. They have the authentic taste like the ones peddled on the street. It was definitely a hit!

As I reached the end of the cul-de-sac, I came back to the realization that I was on a street in Iowa, and not in Manila. I looked around to search if there’s a fishball vendor around. But there was none. Just the leafless trees, brown grass, and the empty street that I was in.

Was I hallucinating? Was it because I was huffing and puffing that my brain was oxygen deprived? Or was it because I was hungry and my blood sugar level was running low? Has my brand new running shoes have anything to do with it? Or maybe I was plainly home-sick again?

Fishball, o fishball, why are you haunting me?

(*photo taken during my run)

Ang Lola Kong Adik

11 March 2018

13 Comments

(Addict: a person who is addicted to an activity, habit or substance.)

Sang-ayon sa mga balita, marami raw adik sa atin sa Pilipinas. Pero nababawasan na raw ito dahil sa takot kay Duterte. Noong ako’y bata pa, kapag kami ay lumuluwas sa probinsiya, ay mayroon akong natutunghayan na kakaibang adiksiyon.

Sa bahay ng aking lola sa Norzagaray Bulacan, ay nakatira rin ang isang tiyahin ng aking tatay. Maaaring sabihin na kasama siya sa mga kumukunsumo ng adiksiyong ito. Hindi ko na sasabihin ang tunay niyang pangalan, at tawagin na lang natin siyang Nana Pula.

Aking pinapanood si Nana Pula na uupo na lang sa sahig sa isang sulok ng bahay. Tapos ilalabas na niya ang mga nakasupot niyang paraphernalia. Dito mag-uumpisa na siyang mag-gayat. Magdidikdik. At magbabalot.

Pero bago ninyo isipin na shabu o crystal meth ang kanyang dinidikdik, o kaya’y marijuana ang kanyang binibilot, ay hindi ito gayon. Ang kanyang ginagayat, dinidikdik at binibilot ay nga-nga.

Siguro alam ninyo kung ano ang nga-nga (betel quid). Sa mga nakababatang Pilipino na maaring hindi na pamilyar sa sinaunang bisyo na ito, ang nga-nga ay nginunguya. Hindi ito sinisinghot o hinihithit.

Ang nga-nga ay ang combinasyon ng: ikmo (betel leaf), bunga (areca palm nut), at apog (slaked lime). Gagayatin ang bunga, tapos papahiran ng apog, at ibabalot sa ikmo. Minsan dinadagdagan pa ng dahon ng tabako, para mas matindi ang tama.

nga-nga (image from the web)

Matapos bilutin ni Nana Pula ang kanyang nga-nga, ito ay kanya nang isusubo at nguguyain. Habang nakasalampak, ngumangata at sumisipsip ng katas ng nga-nga, ay paminsan-minsan siyang dudura ng mala-dugong laway sa siwang ng sahig na kawayan. Para siyang kambing na ngunguya-nguya, pero kontento sa kanyang buhay. At pag-ngumiti si Nana Pula? Pula ang kanyang bibig at mga ngipin! Kaya nga Nana Pula.

Meron din kaming ninuno sa Bulakan na ang tawag sa kanya ay Tatang Puti. Pero hindi dahil sa puting ngipin, kun’di dahil siya ay tunay na maputi. Siya ay meztiso at dugong Kastila. Tunay naman na may lahing meztisuhin ang aking angkan. Pero hindi ako kasama sa mga mapuputi, dahil nakuha ko ang kulay ko sa aking nanay na dugong Ilokano. Teka, naligaw na yata ang usapan.

Balik tayo sa nga-nga. Ang tradisyon na ito ay matagal nang umiiral sa Pilipinas, bago pa man tayo sakupin ng Kastila. Nabanggit ito ni Jose Rizal sa kanyang nobelang Noli Me Tangere, kung saan sa unang kapitulo ay sinaad niyang inalok ito ni Kapitan Tiago sa kanyang mga bisita. Sa kapanahunan noon, hindi Skyflakes at softdrinks ang inihahain sa bisita, kun’di nga-nga!

Ang kustombre ng pagnguya ng nga-nga o betel quid ay hindi lang sa Pilipinas. Maraming bansa sa South at Southeast Asia, at sa kalawig na mga isla sa Pacifica ay kilala ang sinaunang tradisyong ito. Sabi ng World Health Organization, maaaring may 600 milyong tao ngayon ang haling sa bisyong ito.

Ang pag-nguya ng betel nut ay ipinamana sa atin ng ating mga ninuno. Sa katunayan, sang-ayon sa mga archaeologist, may nahukay silang bungo ng tao na may apat na libong taon ang tanda, at ang ngipin nito ay may bakas ng elemento ng betel nut. Ganoong katagal na ang nga-nga!

Gaya ng sigarilyo at iba pang bisyo, bakit kaya nakaka-adik ang nga-nga?

Ang bunga o “betel” nut, ay mula sa areca palm (scientific name: Areca catechu). Ito ay may natural alkaloid, na ang tawag ay arecoline. Ang arecoline ay mild stimulant. Kaya ito’y nakapagbibigay ng energy boost at feeling of euphoria. Sa madaling salita, nakaka-high! Kaya kapag ngumunguya na sila tatang at nanang, ay sumasaya sila at para na silang lumulutang. Tripping na si lola!

Ngunit parang nicotine mula sa dahon ng halaman ng tabako (scientific name: Nicotiana tabacum), ang arecoline mula sa areca palm nut ay nakaka-adik din. Kaya bago pa naging palahithit ng tabako, o bago pa magsipagbilot ng marijuana, ay ngumangata na ng nga-nga ang Pilipino. Lahi nga kaya tayo ng mga adik?

Maliban sa nakaka-adik ang nga-nga, may iba pa bang masamang epekto ito?

Sang-ayon sa mga pag-aaral, ang nga-nga ay maaring maging sanhi ng kanser sa bibig. Iyong ibang matatanda sa atin, nag-nganganga na, nagtatabako pa, tapos nasa loob pa ng bibig ang sindi ng tabako, kaya’t mataas ang insidente nila ng kanser sa bibig.

Dahil laging ngumunguya ang kumukunsumo ng nga-nga, ito ay maari ring magdulot ng oral submucous fibrosis. Ang kondisyong ito ay sanhi ng “stiffness in the mouth and eventually the loss of jaw movement.”*

Isa sa pinakamalinaw na sanhi ng nga-nga ay ang pamumula ng bibig at ngipin. Para silang nagpahid ng sangkatutak na lipstick, pero kasama pati ipin! Maari rin itong sanhi ng tooth decay, gum disease at bad breath.

Kaya noon pa man, kapag nag-nganga-nga na si Nana Pula, umiiiwas na akong pahalik sa kanya, dahil baka mag-amoy nga-nga at apog ako. Pero nagmamano pa rin naman ako kay Nana Pula.

Subalit kahit may kakaibang adiksiyon si Nana Pula, ay mapayapang mamamayan naman siya. Mapagmahal din siya sa kanyang mga kamag-anak at kaibigan. Maaring sabihin na adik siya sa pagmamahal sa kanyang mga pamangkin at apo, kasama na ako, kahit gaano pa ako kakulit noon.

Isang araw, matahimik na pumikit si Nana Pula, lumutang at pumailanglang sa walang hanggang kawalan. Wala sa aming nakababatang pamilya ang pumulot ng kanyang bisyo, kaya’t ito’y naglaho na rin sa pagpanaw ni Nana Pula.

(*from Journal of the American Dental Association)

Fevered Musing

1 March 2018

12 Comments

I called in sick. I have not done that a lot. In fact, this is the first time I did it. Many times, I just grit my teeth and willed myself to work, even if I felt like I was ran over by a truck.

I have this notion that doctors should not get sick. For who will take care of the patients? But am I really be of help or be more of harm if I go to work, while I myself is sick? After much deliberation, and after foregoing the feeling of guilt, I made the call.

Don’t get me wrong, I am no superhuman. In fact, I get sick more often than my wife. She chided that I am built poorly and of cheap quality materials. During my childhood days in Manila, we call our classmates who get sick easily “Made in Taiwan.” We pride ourselves to be “Made in Japan” or “Made in USA” if we’re the only ones left standing. Nothing against products from Taiwan. Accept it or not, we Filipinos sometimes can be racist. I am sure being made in Taiwan nowadays does not have that connotation.

I am trying so hard not to get sick. I exercise regularly, and I try to eat healthy, and I even got my flu shot. But I still got sick. Being a physician, when you’re dealing with ill patients all day, and they are coughing in your face, it’s just a matter of time that you’ll get it too. Plus we are in the middle of the flu epidemic and it is particularly bad this season.

I am in bed for 2 days straight now. I know, that in itself can make my head hurt. I am popping Advil every 4 to 6 hours round the clock, just to get relief from the fever and the body aches, even though I don’t like taking medicine.

I isolated myself in our bedroom, as I asked my wife to sleep in another room, so she’ll not get what I have. This is not the time for ‘sharing.’ I also put on a mask whenever I go out of the room, and ate separately away from the table.

I was having chills and fever when my thoughts wandered into the times in the past, when I was also sick in bed.

I was in our home in Manila, with high fever. I was still so young, that I don’t go to school yet. My body was full of red spots that were very itchy, and I’m trying my best not to expose them. (Bawal daw mahanginan.) I believe I got the measles. My mom would continuously put a wet towel in my head to try to lower my temperature. But despite of that, I was to the point of hallucinating, that my mother said I was seeing things that were not there.

Then there was the time I was in Kindergarten, when I again had a fever, and one side of my face swelled up. I looked like a squirrel that has an acorn in one of its cheek. I had the mumps. My folks painted a bluish gooey something on my face. It is a concoction of clay, blue dye and vinegar, which was a popular folklore remedy for mumps in the Philippines. My classmates in Kindergarten stopped by our house to visit me, and they saw me with my painted blue puffed-up cheeks.

I know, I know, you may be asking, why did I get both the measles and mumps when I was a child. Why was I not vaccinated? Were my parents against vaccination? Not really. I was just born before the era when MMR (Measles, Mumps and Rubella) vaccine became available worldwide. It was later offered in our school when I was older, I think I was in Grade 2 or 3. My classmates and I lined up and I received those injections despite my silent protestation as I was scared of needles.

There were several other times that I was sick as a child with colds, and my mother would put Vicks Vaporub in my chest and back. Even in my nose, when my nose was clogged up and could not breathe. She would also put Vicks Vaporub in my feet and then put socks on me, telling me that will help my fever. For many Filipinos, Vicks Vaporub and White Flower ointment were a cure-all treatment for any ailment. To this day, I hate the smell of them.

Now that I have the MD degree after my name, I know that the blue paint on my cheek and the Vicks Vaporub on my feet perhaps caused nothing to help my sickness. But perhaps just the fact that I am loved and my parents were showing they care, the best that they know how, was enough to make me feel better. And that eventually healed me of my illness.

Many times, showing people that we care for them, is enough to relieve them of their malady. I know I have plenty of that in my home as a child, and in my home now. Even when I feel terrible with this illness, I know that I am being attended to, not necessarily by a medical team, but more importantly by people who really cared for me. In fact, I still have the cup of salabat on my night lamp stand that my wife brought me this morning, and I could already smell the sinigang that she is cooking.

I was having chills when I glanced outside the window. Snow is now falling softly. I am not going anywhere. More reason to snuggle under the covers the whole day.

(*These thoughts were concocted 3 weeks ago. I think I got influenza, and I was house-bound for 5 days. Photo taken with an iPhone.)

Lalamunang Butas

2 February 2018

4 Comments

Bahagi ng pagiging isang masinop na duktor, ay ang pagkuha ng istorya, o aming tinatawag na history, mula sa pasyente. Dahil kalimitan, maaring ma-diagnose o malaman kung ano ang sakit sa pamamagitan lang ng history. Siyempre kailangan pa rin ng physical exam at mga ancillary testing, para makumpleto ang diagnosis. Pero napaka-importante ng history.

Kaya naman kasama sa aming training o pag-aaral bilang duktor, ay ang kung paano kumuha ng tamang history. Katulad nang kung masakit ang tiyan ng pasyente: aming itatanong kung kailan pa nagsimula, o anong oras ng araw lumilitaw ang sakit, anong klase ng sakit, anong maaring nagpapalubha o nagpapaginhawa sa sakit, kung saan mismo ang sakit, o kung ito ay gumagapang sa ibang bahagi ng katawan, kung kumain ba ng panis na pansit, at kung anu-ano pa.

Huwag ninyo sanang isipin na makulit lang ang inyong duktor dahil napakaraming tanong, na pati pagkain ninyo ng pansit ay inuusisa. Ang mga tanong na ito ay kailangan para malaman ang tamang diagnosis.

Oo nga’t mayroong mga pagkakataon na hindi kami makakuha ng tamang kuwento o history mula sa pasyente. Tulad ng mga pasyenteng tuliro o walang malay na dinala sa hospital. Marami kaming ganyang pasyente sa ICU. O kaya naman ay ibang wika o dialect ang kanilang salita, o kaya’y pipi ang pasyente, kaya’t kailangan pa namin ng interpreter.

Mayroon din namang mga pasyente na hindi makapagbigay ng tama o accurate na history, dahil lito sila, o talagang magulo lang silang kausap. Para silang laging lasing. Kaya naguguluhan tuloy pati ang duktor kung ano talaga ang nangyayari.

Saludo ako sa mga Pediatrician, na kayang malaman kung ano ang iniinda ng mga bata o sanggol nilang pasyente, kahit hindi pa ito nagsasalita. Siyempre nakakatulong din ang history na ibinibigay ng magulang ng mga bata.

Mas saludo ako sa mga Veterinarian, kung paano sila kumuha ng history. Siguro ay naiintindihan nila ang bawat kahol, meow, o huni ng kanilang pasyente. Buti na lang at hindi ako pinag-beterenaryo ng nanay ko, at baka kumakahol na rin ako ngayon.

Isang kuwento mula sa matagal na panahon nang nakalipas ang aking isasaysay sa inyo. Ito’y nangyari nang ako’y intern pa sa Pilipinas. Isang araw ay sabik na sabik na nagkuwento sa amin ang isa naming co-intern, ng kanyang karanasan mula sa hospital ward.

Sabi niya, may pasyente raw siyang may butas sa lalamunan o tracheostomy. Siguro dahil sa cancer sa larynx, pero hindi niya ito sigurado. Kaya’t kailangan pa rin niyang kunin ang history ng pasyente.

Kung hindi ninyo alam kung paano ang may tracheostomy, sila ay hindi makapagsalita ng maayos, dahil lumalabas ang hangin sa kanilang tracheostomy at hindi dumadaan sa vocal cord. Minsan, yung mga may tracheostomy, ay wala na ring vocal cord, at tuluyan na silang hindi makapagsalita.

Gayun pa man, desidido pa rin ang aking co-intern na kunin ang history ng kanyang pasyente.

Intern: Kuya, ano po bang dahilan bakit ka pumunta sa ospital?

Pasyente: Heh, hasi hirahp ahoh humingah.

Intern: Ganoon ba? Eh bakit ka nagka-tracheostomy?

Pasyente: Heh hasi, hanito hiyan. Halahas haho hahihahiho. Hayah haghahooh haho hang hanser sa lahlahmunah.

Intern: Teka, teka kuya. Hindi po kita maintindihan.

Luminga-linga ang aking co-intern at nagbakasakali na may kasama o bantay ang kanyang pasyente. Inisip niya, baka makakatulong ito na magbigay ng kuwento.

Sapak naman at naroon sa may pintuan ang isang kabataang lalaki. Tinanong ng intern kung kilala ba niya o siya ba ang bantay ng pasyente.

Tumango naman ang lalaki. Natuwa ang intern.

Tinanong uli ng intern kung alam ng bantay ang kwento ng pasyente. Tumango ulit ang bantay. Lalong natuwa ang intern.

Intern: Ano ba ang nangyari sa kanya?

Bantay: Ngabi ngiya, malangas naw ngiya mangingangiyo, ngaya ngagngaroon ngiya ngang nganser nga lalamungan.

Toink!

Sa kabila nito, nakuha pa rin ng intern ang wastong history. Kinailangan lang ng konting tiyaga at pangunawa.

*********

(*Ang kuwentong ito ay tunay na pangyayari, at hindi ko po intensiyon na laitin ang may mga tracheostomy o cleft palate.)

Pahabol na tula:

Mga lalamunang butas,

At ngala-ngalang bukas,

Mga boses na gasgas,

Hirap silang bumigkas.

H’wag batuhin ng pintas,

Bagkus tratuhin ng patas,

‘Pagkat ‘di man sila matatas,

Isip nila’y matalas.

Ang Tandang at si Uncle Tom

23 January 2018

7 Comments

Ako ay may tiyuhin na Amerikano. Siya si Uncle Tom.

Tatlong dekada na ang nakalipas nang isa sa aking mga tiyahin ay nagka-penpal ng isang Amerikano. Uso pa noon ang ballpen, magsulat sa papel, at maghulog ng sulat. Matagal-tagal din silang nagkasulatan, at dumating sa yugto na gusto nilang magkita. Wala pang Facebook at FaceTime noon, kaya’t nag-planong lumipad papuntang Pilipinas ang Amerikanong penpal ng aking tiyahin.

Dahil kami ay may bahay naman sa Maynila, at para na rin tuluyang makaliskisan, este makilatis pala ang ibig kong sabihin, ang kanyang penpal, kaya pinakiusap ng aking tita na sa bahay na namin tumuloy ang Amerikano.

Itanggi man natin o hindi, marami pa rin sa atin ang nagnanais na makakilala ng isang banyaga, at mapangasawa ito. Dahil sa isip natin ito ang ating magiging pasaporte para lumisan ng bansa. At kung tayo ay medyo tag-hirap, ito ang ating pagkakataong umunlad at makaahon sa buhay. Darating kaya ang panahon na ang mga Pilipino ay hindi na mangangarap na umalis ng bansa?

Kaya nang dadalaw na ang Amerikano, hindi kami magkandaugaga sa aming paghahanda sa kanyang pagdating. Para kaming naghanda sa isang official state visit, gaya nang dumalaw si President Trump sa Pilipinas. Kulang na lang ay umarkila kami ng banda ng mga musikero at magpa-piyesta sa aming kalye sa pagsalubong sa kanya.

Lumuwas pa ng Maynila ang aming lola mula sa probinsiya at nagdala ito ng mga buhay na manok, para raw ipanghanda sa Amerikano naming bisita. Siyempre, mas masarap pa rin daw ang lasa ng native at free-range na manok. Organic pa at siguradong hindi sinaksakan ng growth hormone at antibiotic.

Isa naman sa aking tiyuhin ang sumundo mula sa airport. Hindi na ako sumama dahil puno na ang sasakyan at baka wala pang maupuan ang aming bisita. Pagkasundo sa airport, ay sa bahay na namin sa Sampaloc Manila tumuloy ang Amerikano.

Sa aking silid pinatulog ang bisita. Malaking tao pala itong Amerikano. Hindi ko alam kung paano siya nagkasya o kung naging kumportable siya sa aking munting katre. Aaminin ko medyo masikip ang aking silid, pang-Petite (Palito?) size lang ito at hindi pang-Jumbo size. Hindi ko rin alam kung naglagkit sa init ang aming bisita, dahil wala naman kaming air conditioner. Pero may bintana naman at bentilador ang aking kuwarto.

Kahit payak ang aming bahay at masikip ang aking kuwarto, ay siguro naman ay lumutang pa rin ang aming pagiging hospitable sa aming panauhin. Kung tutuusin hindi lang ang Amerikanong penpal ng tiyahin ko ang banyagang natulog sa aking munting silid. Minsan ay nagkabisita kami ng galing Papua New Guinea na tumuloy din sa aking kuwarto. Marami ring kaming mga bisitang lokal ang nanuluyan dito. Kaya puti, itim, o kayumanggi – walang kinikilingan ang aking silid.

Balikan natin ang mga manok na dala ng aking lola. Isa dito ay puting tandang, pero hindi ito pang-sabong. Dahil hindi lahat ng manok ay ihahain kaagad, kaya’t ang iba ay hinayaan munang buhay. Kasama dito ang tandang na itinali sa veranda ng aming bahay.

Unang gabi ng aming bisita, maaring pagod na pagod sa biyahe ang Amerikano, at may jet-lag pa, kaya hahayaan lang sana namin siyang matulog kahit tanghaliin pa siya ng gising. Subalit may ibang balak ang puting tandang.

Bago pa magbukang liwayway o maaninag ang liwanag ng umaga, at bago pa magsipag-byahe ang mga traysikel ay simula nang tumilaok ang puting tandang. Walang patid at masigabo sa pagtilaok ang pesteng manok. Pumwesto pa ito malapit sa bintana ng aking kuwarto.

Hindi nagtagal ay nagising ang aming bisitang Amerikano. Galit at mainit ang ulo nito. Masama ang pagkakagising. Sino nga bang hindi mauunsiyame kung mabulabog ka sa iyong mahimbing na pagkakatulog.

Paglabas niya sa kuwarto, ay ako ang kanyang nasalubong. Sabi niya sa akin: “Where is that #&*@^! rooster, I’ll wring it’s neck!”

Sa halip na sa ilang araw pa sana kakatayin ang pobreng tandang, noong araw rin na iyon, naging tangahalian na namin ito. Nahimasmasan naman ang init ng ulo at natuwa pa ang aming panauhing pandangal, nang matikman niya ang masarap na luto na inihain namin sa kanya. Tinolang manok!

Nang malaon na ay nagkaigihan naman ang aking tita at ang kanyang penpal. Sila ay nagkataluyang magpakasal, at siya ay naging aking Uncle Tom. Hindi na nagtagal pa ay nakalipad na rin ang aking tita papuntang Amerika.

Maaring sabihin na dahil kay Uncle Tom, ay naging masuwerte ang aking tiyahin dahil siya’y nakarating ng Estados Unidos. Kahit man ako ay nabiyayaan din, dahil ang tiyahin kong ito ang isa sa tumulong sa akin sa pinansiyal nang ako’y nag-a-apply na papuntang Amerika para sa aking Medical Residency Training. Dahil sa ako’y natanggap sa isang academic hospital para mag-training, ito naman ang naging daan para ako’y makapangibang-bayan.

Noong nakaraang Pasko, maliban sa aking pagtawag sa mga kamag-anak sa Pilipinas, ay tinawagan ko rin ang aking tiyahing ito na naninirahan na sa California. Siya ang pinakamalapit kong kamag-anak dito sa Amerika. Ang California ay mahigit na tatlong oras na biyahe sa eroplano o dalawang araw na drive mula sa amin dito sa Iowa.

Sa pag-uusap namin ng aking tita ay nabanggit niya na medyo lumulubha na raw ang kalagayan ni Uncle Tom at nagiging makakalimutin na rin ito. Sa katunayan, may mga ilang taon nang may sakit si Uncle Tom. Salamat na lang kay tita na tunay na nagmamahal sa kanya, at hindi niya ito pinababayaan. Isa pa, dahil nurse ang aking tiyahin, naaalagaang lubos si Uncle Tom.

Sa aking tingin at palagay, kung naging masuwerte ang aking tiyahin, mas naging masuwerte si Uncle Tom dahil nakilala niya ang aking tita at ang aming pamilya. At hindi lang ito dahil sa nakakain siya ng tinolang manok.

(*photo taken during our last visit to the Philippines)

Old Friend

4 October 2017

2 Comments

Hello friend.

First of all, I know it is your birthday tomorrow. Don’t be impressed that I remember that after all these years. It is just because you shared the same birthdate with my father, that’s why I cannot forget.

I know we have not seen each other in person for several years. But it is not a reason that we have not stayed in touch as friends. After all, we’ve known each other since our “uhugin” days of childhood. We even had that matching yellow shirt that we would often wear at the same time when we were kids, as if we were twins.

We played together. We ate together. We even got lost once together in a farm. We were so small then and cannot see beyond the tall plantation. But you told me that we should kneel down and pray right there in the rice field. After that, we eventually found our way back.

Remember how we played those tau-tauhan or toy soldiers? We would stand them up in the dirt while we were on our hands and knees on the ground, and we’ll hit them with marbles as if it was a war. I think I could hit more than you. And I’ll rub it in, mas asintado ako sa iyo.

Our lives were intertwined, as our families were good friends. We would go to parks and other places together. Remember how we would fit our two families in our “Ford Cortina” – all 4 adults and 6 young kids in one car? Who cares about seatbelts? Those were the good ole days.

Then your family decided to migrate to Papua New Guinea. I was sad that you were leaving us, but happy for you and your family that you would be going to a new country and pursuing a “better” life.

Yet you still came back a couple of times to the Philippines for a visit. You told me about your experience riding that big airplane and crossing the ocean. I was so envious! You told me how excited you were in going down the stairs of the plane that you slipped and almost fell down the tarmac.

Then after a few more years I heard that your family would be migrating to the US from Papua New Guinea. Again I was happy for you and your family for another new adventure. Though I honestly was saddened, as the chances that you would come back to live in the Philippines and we’ll be together again was nil.

But tadhana smiled again and our path crossed once more. Several years later I was given the chance to go to the US too. I remember how you and your family welcomed me with open arms. I even stayed in your place for a short time. You showed me around California in your new Toyota Camry. Your family toured me to Disneyland. And you even took me shopping for some muffler and gloves, as you learned I was going to New York City in the dead of winter to have an interview.

Then I too was able to chase my American dream.

One day you called and told me that you are quitting your job. Your stable, high-paying job. And that you were going to South America with your family as missionaries. I was surprised. But more so, I was so impressed with your admirable faith. I know it’s not easy to give up the comforts and luxuries of life, and leave everything behind, in the name of God’s higher calling. I don’t know if I can do the same.

I understand it took you some time getting used to the change. You told me how remote your location was in South America. That you live almost like in a jungle, and your home was like living in a big tree house. And how it would take you a couple of days to travel to the nearest city. Yet you never forget to call me once in a while when you have the chance. I know you can only make that overseas call whenever you’re in the city.

I heard you say that even though how meager your resources were and how simple your life was, you told me, that you love working in God’s mission. What a remarkable dedication. I have nothing but respect for you.

Then more than a couple of years ago, I learned that you and your family came back to the US. Though I understand, you were still live-in volunteers in a small Christian academy. At least you don’t have to fight anymore, those pesky mosquitoes and poisonous snakes that sneak inside your home.

Once in a while we’ll talk about our families over the phone. And how we would open up about our “little” problems raising our family, just like any parents have. I called you few weeks ago, and I told you that I would be praying for you and your family. I also got your “thank you” card about two weeks ago.

Then I got a phone call from your sister yesterday. What an awful news! A heartbreaking news. That you had a tragic car accident. And in an instant, you were gone.

I don’t know what to think. My finite mind cannot rationalize it. I don’t know why God called you home too soon. But I just have to trust Him. As you always did.

I cannot imagine how your family and children are taking this. I am praying for them. I would continue to support them in whatever way I can, just like I promised you the last time we talked.

I guess I will never hear your voice again. We will never have that heart to heart talk again. At least not here on earth. But hoping someday, somewhere, beyond this earth…….

Goodbye my old friend.

(*in loving memory of Boying)

(**photo taken with an iPhone)

Chedeng at Chinelas

2 September 2017

8 Comments

Noong makalawang araw ay bumisita sa aming bahay ang isang kaibigan, kasama ang kanyang asawa at panganay na anak. Siya ay isa ring Pilipinong duktor dito sa Iowa. Meron lang silang dinaanan dito sa amin.

Aking napansin na bago ang sasakyan niyang dala. Sabi niya, ipinamana na raw niya ang lumang Honda sa kanyang anak. Akin siyang kinantsawan na sobrang asenso na niya. Ika ko nga, “hindi ka na ma-reach!”

Kasi, naka-Chedeng na siya.

Malugod din niyang ipinakita ang mga features ng kanyang bagong kotse. Pinindot lang niya ang kanyang cellphone at umandar na ang kanyang kotse, kahit wala siya sa loob nito. Napabilib ako. Siguro pwede pa niyang i-program na utusan lang ang kanyang smartphone: “Siri, start my car.”

Mayroon din daw itong standard safety features, gaya ng automatic braking kung sakaling aanga-anga siya at hindi nakapag-preno kaagad, at nagbibigay din ng warning kung may sasakyan sa kanyang blind spot at kung siya ay antok-antok at lumilihis sa lane. Hindi lang din daw camera sa likod ang makikita niya kung siya ay umuurong, kung hindi 360º view. Higit sa lahat, kaya nitong magself-park, kahit pa parallel parking. Sabi ko nga, kulang na lang mag-drive ‘yung kanyang Mercedes na mag-isa.

Pero sang-ayon sa mga eksperto, by year 2020 or 2021, mayroon ng mass production ng self-driving cars, at available na ito sa lahat. Kahit sino ay pwede nang maging Knight Rider!

Habang ipinagyayabang ng aking kaibigan ang kanyang Mercedes, ay para kaming mga musmos na natutuwa sa bagong jolen, o trumpo, o kaya’y matchbox. Iyon nga lang, totoo ‘yung matchbox.

Noong ako’y batang paslit pa, ang kilala ko lang na luxury car ay Chedeng o Mercedes Benz. Kilala ko rin si Aling Mercedes, pero hindi siya kotse. Hindi ko pa alam noon ang BMW, Audi, Porsche, Jaguar, Ferrari, Cadillac o Lexus. Kilalang-kilala ko naman ang Sarao. Tingin ko sa mga naka-Chedeng noon ay sobrang yaman at sobrang matagumpay sa buhay.

Sa katunayan, wala nga akong kilalang naka-Mercedes noong ako’y nasa elementarya at high school pa, maliban sa isa. Siya ay crush ng bayan sa aming eskwelahan, dahil maganda na siya tapos naka-Chedeng pa. Ang tatay niya ay duktor, at sila ay nakatira sa Dasma (Dasmariñas Village).

Noong nasa kolehiyo na, ako ay namulat sa katotohanan na kahit sa mahirap na bansa’t lipunan pala, ay marami pa rin burgis. Marami akong naging kamag-aral na naka-Chedeng. May mga kaklase pa nga ako na may sarili silang kotse at naka-tsuper pa. Buong mag-hapon naghihintay lang ang kanilang tsuper sa may parking lot ng unibersidad. Hindi lang nga Mercedes Benz, may nakita pa akong estudyante na ang dina-drive ay Porsche. Okay lang, ako naman ay “Cadillac” – kadilakad.

Balik tayo sa kaibigan kong Pilipinong duktor dito sa Iowa. Habang kami ay nagku-kwentuhan ay aming napag-usapan na parang kailan lang ay mga musmos pa ang aming mga anak. Ngunit ngayon, pareho na kaming may anak na nasa kolehiyo. Ang bilis ng panahon.

Nagawi ang aming usapan noong kami ay nasa-kolehiyo pa. Siya ay nag-aral din sa Maynila. Nabangit ko na napakarami nang nagtataasang condominum sa Maynila pati sa university belt. Sabi naman niya ay marami na rin daw masasarap na kainan sa paligid-ligid ng university belt. Sa susunod niyang uwi sa Pilipinas, gusto raw niyang pumasyal at kumain sa mga turo-turo sa tabi ng unibersidad. Simple pa rin talaga ang trip ng kaibigan kong ito, down-to-earth pa rin.

Napag-usapan din namin kung paano kaming nakikipag-habulan sa mga jeepney, at kung paano kami halos makipagbalyahan at siksikan, makasakay lamang. Pinaririnig lang din naman namin sa aming mga anak kung gaano sila kaswerte ngayon, at hindi nila naranasan ang hirap na aming dinaanan.

Chedeng na Jeepney

Hanggang sa napag-usapan noong kami ay nasa elementarya pa. Kwento ng aking kaibigan, dahil siya ay lumaki sa probinsiya, ay naglalakad lang daw siya araw-araw patungong paaralan nila. Ang pampublikong paaralan ay nasa kabilang barrio, kaya’t medyo malayo ang kanyang linalakad. Para mag-short cut, siya ay tumutulay sa pilapil ng mga palayan habang bitbit-bitbit niya ang kanyang chinelas para hindi maputikan. Minsan pa raw, binibitbit din niya ang kanyang chinelas para hindi ito maupod agad, upang makatipid.

Ako ay napangiti at napaisip. Ang batang nagbibitbit lang ng chinelas noon para hindi ito maupod, ngayon ay naka-Chedeng na.

Tignan mo nga naman talaga ang tadhana. Marunong pa rin itong ngumiti sa mga nagsisikap na umasenso sa buhay. Kahit na hindi Mercedes, ang kanilang pangalan.

(*photo from the web)

Ang Aking Bakyang Tsinelas

8 March 2017

Short Time sa Sogo

23 February 2017

Exhausting Research

25 January 2017

13 Comments

Not too long ago, my son needed to do some assignment about plants in his Biology class. He asked me for some input, knowing that I majored in Biology when I was in college. But my stock knowledge and what I remember was not enough, so I told him to look it up.

If that was me doing research in high school, 30 years ago, it would entail going to the library to search for the answers. Since our school’s library may not be complete, so that means I need to make a trip to the National Library in Kalaw near Luneta. It would take me some walking and two jeepney rides from our house in Sampaloc. But with Manila’s traffic, who knows how long would that trip be?

Once I am inside the National Library, I could ask the librarian at the help desk to assist me on the subject matter that I am researching, and she could search the card catalog and give me the list of books I needed to look for. If I feel that I could do it on my own, then I would head to the area where the cabinets of the card catalogs are, and search for the numbers of the books that may contain the subject matter. Usually I would like to list at least 3 books or more.

card catalog

Once I scribble in a small paper all the catalog numbers of the books I would like to get, which usually reads like this: SW 596 .C34 2016, then I would go to the area of the library where these books are located. I would be going up and down rows upon rows of books while looking for the specific numbered books. That may mean one book is located at one end of the library, while the other is on the opposite end, and one in a different floor.

After spending several minutes going aisle after aisle of books, only to find out that the book I am looking for is not available as somebody might be reading it, or have been checked out by another student looking for the same subject. Or worse, the book is available, but some naughty student tore up the pages that I needed to read. What a bummer!

However, if I am lucky and if all the stars align, all the books that I am looking for may all be available. Then I can take all the books, and find a table and read on the subject that I needed to research on. Or if I needed to go home and do the reading later, and if the books are allowed to be borrowed, I can go to the front desk and check out the books for a day or so.

typical library

Then maybe as I am heading out to the font desk to borrow the books, I would realize that I forgot my library card at home. Darn!

But wait, maybe I still can photocopy the pages I needed. So I would head out to the photocopying machine. Lucky enough I have some loose change in my pocket to pay for the xerox copies, though that means no more money for a soft drink and hopia. The photocopier is running out of ink, so the copies are so faint, but still I can read them, so that’s good enough.

All in all, to look for the particular subject in Biology that I needed to research on, it would take me at least half a day to accomplish this. That was my experience back in those days. Of course I could have just copied the assignment of my good classmate, but that’s not being a diligent student.

Back to my son, he went on to do his home work. He sat in front of our home computer and hopped into the internet. After querying Dr. Google and after a few mouse clicks……voila! He got what he needed. It took him 15 minutes tops.

And they say doing research is hard.

(*photos taken from the web)

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Pinoy Transplant in Iowa

Mga kasaysayan, pananaw, himutok at guni-guni ng isang Pinoy na napadpad sa Iowa

Category Archives: memoir