A Voice from the Past

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for a while, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same.”

 

Never had I dreamed that I would hear her voice again.  She had been my daughter’s dedicated yaya from the time my daughter was born until my daughter turned twelve.  She had become part of our family.  Our worries were hers and her worries were ours.

Just as my daughter had started to test her young wings, her Yaya Nita thought it time to spread her own wings and decided to marry.  It was a sad day when Yaya Nita packed her bags and we reluctantly said our good-byes.

The Price of Happiness

“Mommy, will you be putting up the Christmas tree this year?”, my daughter asked.

“I’m still thinking about it.”, was my response.  Setting up the Christmas tree and Belen has been another on-again-off-again affair with me since my kids graduated from college.  Reasons ranged from political:  “no tree until an unpopular president is booted out” to the apathetic: “why bother”.

“Come on mommy.  It will be fun.”, my daughter countered.

And now the end is near…

Shortly after Typhoon Yolanda left a trail of destruction and despair along its path, a story started to make its rounds in Cebu.  This is the story.

An old beggar had approached a female devotee as she was on her way out of the Sto Nino church.  

That Friday

November 8, Friday.  I was in Cebu City the day that Typhoon Yolanda came.  I was in my sister’s house baby sitting my 7-year old niece.  I had brought my mother from her hill-top house to stay and weather the storm with us.

The morning started out with a light drizzle.  The sky was grey and did not have a hint of what was to come. By mid-morning, the rain was coming down in sheets and the wind was blowing hard—enough to bend the bamboo lining my sister’s fence almost halfway to the ground. Every now and then my mother would get up from the book she was reading and pace the floor.   My niece and I kept ourselves busy creating a diorama of a family inside a house out of a shoe box. At one point as the wind howled outside, she exclaimed, “I’m too young to die.” 

I assured her that no such harm will come to her and shifted her attention back to our project.   By lunchtime, the wind had died down and an eerie calm settled around. We had come through with hardly any damage to the house.  But what about the rest?

With electricity and phone line cut off and my celphone battery running on low,  I started texting my siblings and my daughter that we were alright.  With no contact with the outside world, we settled in for the night. I was confident that everything would be put to right the next day. 

We woke up to see a weak sun trying to break through grey clouds.   

Leaves littered the outside and there still was no electricity.  With still no news about the extent of the damage caused by the typhoon, we happily left the house for the airport to pick-up my sister. My niece was happy and relieved that her mother was finally coming home.  My mother was happy with the thought of returning back to her house.  Everything seemed right in our little world.

How very wrong we were.  Upon reaching my mother’s house, her house helpers asked permission to leave.  They live in the northern part of Cebu which was also in the path of the typhoon.  They had received text messages that the roofs of their homes were blown off.  Without hesitation, my mother let them go.  As fate would have it, I had postponed my departure and would be around to keep my mother company.

With electricity restored by late afternoon, we started to receive heart-wrenching news on teevee about the terrible damage caused to life and property.  What made matters even worse was the fact that my mother could not reach any of her brothers or sisters in Leyte.  All communication lines were down.I tried to console my mother by telling her "No news, is good news". 

By Sunday, my mother was able to get sketchy news from some relatives and friends who had managed to return back to Cebu from Ormoc, Leyte. So far, our relatives were alright but extensive damage had been caused to their homes and farms. 

What used to be miles and miles of coconut trees, now just poles sticking up in the air (pic courtesy of RC)

I have since returned back to my own home in Manila.  Everything is exactly as how I left it.  But I feel that I am not the same person.   I am now bothered by the thought that although I have given assistance,  it is not enough. And even if I continue to do so, it will never be enough.

Shining Sign

Dear Lord,

Thank you for allowing a full moon to shine on a clear sky tonight.

I would like to see this as Your sign to comfort  the Filipino people -- especially the victims of Typhoon Yolanda --  as we struggle to find our way out of the darkness of despair.

Please continue to strengthen our hope for a better tomorrow and our belief  that  good will always triumph in the end.

This I ask in the name of Jesus, your Son and our Savior.

Amen.

Back in the Spirit

As kids, my sibs and I never experienced trick or treating.  There were no costumes and knocking at neighbors’ gates for us.  (In any case my strict parents would never have allowed us out of the house in the first place.)

Unlike today, department stores did not outdo themselves with cobwebs and macabre display of frightful masks.  Radio and teevee stations went on with regular broadcasting and nary a mention of Halloween.  No biggie.

Of Trees and Memories

Aratiles or Manzanitas is a fast growing tree, 5 to 10 meters high, with spreading branches. Leaves are hairy, sticky, alternate, distichous, oblong-ovate to broadly oblong-lanceolate, 8 to 13 centimeters long, with toothed margins, pointed apex and inequilateral base, one side rounded and the other acute. Flowers are about 2 centimeters in diameter, white, extra-axillary, solitary or in pairs. Sepals are 5, green, reflexed, lanceolate, about 1 centimeter long. Petals are white, obovate, 1 centimeter long, deciduous and spreading. Fruit is a berry, rounded, about 1.5 centimeter in diameter, red on ripening, smooth, fleshy, sweet and many seeded.  It is a tree that thrives in poor soil, able to tolerate acidic and alkaline conditions and drought. Its seeds are dispersed by birds and fruit bats.

http://www.stuartxchange.com/Aratiles.html

The Aratiles Tree was the subject of my second postcard to my niece, N.  

The Best Medicine

It began with an itchy throat in the morning.  Good thing I brought some lozenges and the irksome bother was gone. Or so I thought. 

By the afternoon, my body felt heavy and my joints were painful.  Oh, Oh.  This was not good. Specially when I was away from home to accompany my mother with her medical check-ups in the States. An early night to catch some sleep should do the trick and by morning I would be as good as new. Or so I thought. I was up every hour because of a nagging cough.

I did not fare well the next day.  The itchy throat was back with a vengeance and gave me a cough that came at the most embarrassing times. Like in the middle of a conversation with my sister, M. 

Before I had my next coughing spell, M had emptied her medicine cabinet of its cold-cough-flu arsenal of quick fix.   

V: Living in the Now

V is the youngest of seven siblings. Many thought she was a miracle baby having been born a little over a year after my mother was ligated. A rarity then as it is now, my mother never tired of telling how a well-known doctor cut off a ligament because he was busy talking instead of focusing on the procedure.

V was always anxious about going to school. On the drive to school, my father would gently have her repeat the following quotation. “I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday and I love today.”

Still Mommy

“Must not worry.”

I found some comfort from repeating this mantra to myself.   

It all started so unceremoniously. A forgotten name, a story repeated more than twice in a short span of time,  a misplaced list.  So easily and lightheartedly brushed aside and attributed as part of the aging process.

There was a debate on whether a medical explanation should be sought.  But we were all in denial. For really, what was the point.  There still is no cure for memory loss. 

And so it was for my mother.  And for us, her children.   We laughed.  We cried.  We moved on as we left matters up to time.

Then that time came and my mother herself realized she needed to face this memory eating monster head-on.   And we, her children, planned with her, stood by her and held her hand as we moved forward.

Moving forward, my mother has recently completed  the necessary medical rounds— tests and scans.

The jury is still out on her case.  In the meantime, I should take in the positive and must not worry. She is still mommy.

---xoxoxox---

While visiting with my sisters, M and V, I had the opportunity to watch our mother cook up meals for us. again  She started to apologize for her forgetfulness and hesitated. She felt she would mess things up.  But these negative thoughts vanished as everything came together so naturally.  A chopping board, a sharp knife, a good pan and her confidence was back. 

She outdid herself with her Sotanghon Pancit (recipe here) , Chicken Asado (recipe here) and Pork Sinigang (recipe here).   She also did a green peppers and beans with ground beef dish.  This was something new and delicious for me. I quickly took notes so I won't forget.  And thought it worth passing on to you.

Mom’s Sauted Green Peppers and Beans with Ground Beef

1/2 k ground beef
3 strips of bacon, sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 onion, chopped
1 green pepper, cored and sliced into strips
A handful of green beans (about a cup), string removed and chopped diagonally
Splash of worchestershire, perrins, or soy sauce—whatever you have on hand
Salt and pepper

Place the bacon in a pan and render the oil.  Remove the bacon and set aside. In the bacon oil, saute the garlic and onions then add the beef.  When beef is done, return the bacon and throw in the peppers and beans.  Stir quickly and season with seasoning sauce, salt and pepper.  Remember: Do not overcook or your veggies will be mushy.

Goes very well with steamed rice.

Rainy Days are for…

Weeding out never-to-be used again stuff that has outlived its usefulness from closets, cabinets, drawers, bookshelves and every hoarder’s hiding places in the house.

Lying down to nap

Go through the stack of mail— bank notices, subdivision flyers, bills--  that has piled up over the last month

Lying down to flip through a food magazine

Staring out of the window to see how flooded my garden is.

 

Lying down to watch cable teevee: Anthony Bordain eating his way through L.A., New York, Singapore, Bangkok…..

Going through my music CDs and occasionally join in the singing….. “Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain”….

Positive Confessions

“I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13

It started like any other mentoring Sunday.  The parish scholars, public elementary and high school students, were starting to come into the chapel to once more meet up with their assigned mentors.  The program that morning was to center around the scholars’ need to set goals on how to better their lives.  In a prior meeting, it was agreed that it would be good to have an older scholar share with the rest of the kids her story of what and how she was doing to achieve her dreams. 

So why were tears slowly streaming down my face as I listened to Z, a shy parish college scholar tell her story? 

Forever Daughters, Forever Sisters

The signs were there. The yelping of the dogs as the car parked into the garage. The welcome smiles of our loyal house helpers as we surrendered our bags to them. The strong smell of tsokolate.  Slippers and house dusters laid out and ready.

Mail Bonding

I got another one a week ago.  It was a postcard with a picture of a road sign that read, “Kangaroos Next 50km”.

Work Place Revisited

I was in my old working grounds twice this week to run errands. 

The first time I ventured out, I left right after lunch and took the MRT (train).  That took a quick and comfortable 40 minutes. Hardly any queues at the ticket window and plenty of room inside the train.  Maybe if it was this easy all the time, I would have readily accepted the invitations of my office mates to come visit for lunch or dinner. But the sudden downpour as I exited the terminal made me rethink my being out so far away from home. 

The second time, I hitched an early morning ride with a neighbor and we spent a little over two hours catching up on the latest happenings in our lives before she finally dropped me off at my destination.  To say that the traffic was terrible is an understatement.  It truly is a wonder how I managed all those long and tiring commute times in the thirty years of work in that fabled financial district.  Love of work? Friends at work? Pay at work?  A combination?  It is a wonder indeed.

Priceless

I learned from my daughter that her Serbian dorm mate receives regular mailed packages of spices from her mother to keep homesickness at bay. What a swell idea!  So I thought I’d do the same by mailing out an item that was uniquely from home. 

After much thought on what exactly could that item be, keeping in mind postal regulations, my daughter asked if I could mail her some tablea (local unsweetened chocolate tablets).   

slightly bigger and thicker than a P5 coin

Always on a Sunday

Sundays at our house means a hearty lunch—sometimes the main course can take a while to make and sometimes the dish is a family tradition.  But always special. 

And I was in trouble.  The bananas I bought at the supermarket were not ripe enough to put into the Pochero- a ginger-flavored soup made up of beef shank, saba bananas, potatoes, cabbage or pechay tagalog.   More often than not, Pochero is the main dish for our Sunday lunches. No bananas. No can do.

I did not relish the effort of going out early in the morning for one ingredient.  But this was just the reason I needed to visit one of the Sunday markets in the City.  The market used to be located inside the Lung Center of the Philippines compound but had since relocated about two years ago to a bigger location closer to the main thoroughfare—EDSA. 

  

Wild (Garden) No More

He says to the snow, 'Fall on the earth,' and to the rain shower, 'Be a mighty downpour.' Job 37:6



The weatherman said that the interment heavy rains does not mean summer is officially over. Apparently there are conditions that need to be met before it can be declared that the rainy season is upon us.

Daddy Cool

A postcard with a picture of the famous Stonehenge ( giant rocks arranged in a circle in the UK) arrived in the mail three days ago. 

It was my daughter’s Father’s Day greeting for my hubby.  “You rock!”, she scribbled on the back of the picture. 

I smiled at her attempt to capture in just two words what her dad is to her.  This in turn lead me to think about my own dad.  What sort of a father was he and what he meant to me.

My father has been gone for more than 30 years and I go back to that time when he was a very big part of my life.

Scrapbook Eloquence

  A very close friend got married a couple of weeks back.  I was invited to the wedding.  But there was one little problem.  The ceremony was held in America and I could not fly out to join in the celebration.

But all was not lose.  A bridal shower had been organized by dear friends. An appropriate gift could be sent through friends who were flying out to attend the wedding. But that was not all.  Those who could not make it, like me, were given the task of coming up with relationship tips.  How to handle finances, conflicts, relatives and such other issues that married couples face to insure a long and happy ever after ending.

I was assigned to come up with tips on how to keep the “bedroom fires” burning long after the honeymoon stage. A tricky subject.  Although I have been married a little over 30 years, my hubby and I are still hard at work keeping the embers glowing.

Reflections

“Mirror, mirror on the wall

   Is that you mommy

   Looking back at me?”

Growing up, you could say that my relationship with my mother conformed to the usual phases that most girls go through: 

Up to age 11-  I looked up to my mother.  She knew everything.  I wanted to grow up and be like her. Specially the part about baking goodies for my children. 

The Moment

My train of  thought was interrupted.  The old windows were making that sound again.  You know that sound old windows make when the wind wants to take it off for a spin.  Like the windows are trying to refuse the wind’s invitation by holding on by its hinges. Back and forth, the windows rattled.

Well, there was only one thing to do: bring myself and my thought outside to enjoy the late afternoon breeze. 

Gelling

What could be better than whiling the hot afternoon hours chatting away with friends of like mind?

Chatting away while taking a nice dip in a cool pool!!

 

DFA: A Test of Patience

I just recently finished getting my expiring passport renewed.

There’s good news and there’s bad. 

Remembering Past Summers

“….summer breeze makes me feel fine

blowing through the jasmines of my mind”   Seals & Crofts

The noontime newscaster announced that the day was turning out to be another record breaking scorching summer day.  Nothing in the world could make me part with my electric fan.  A short time away from the warm artificial breeze and beads of perspiration would quickly form on my forehead and drip into my eyes.

A Gem of a Valentine

I gave in on Valentine's day.  Yes, I accepted the suggestions of my hubby to once more get outside help. 

For a little over a year now, my hubby and I have managed to take care of house chores by ourselves.  When my last helper bid good-bye, we felt that we had had enough.  Although we were grateful for their assistance in running our household, we wanted to experience what it would be like to manage our house by ourselves. 

Not so Easy

It’s one of those rare times when I find myself staying at home for the Holy Week.  Then, those four-day break from work was perfect for getting away with the kids.  Usually to relax at the beaches of Cebu or spend time with the relatives up in the mountains of Leyte.  Since I retired, every day is vacation day for me.

Laguna de Bay: Doing the Loop- part 2

By 2PM, we had reached Paete.  The glare from the sun must had been set to maximum level. Hats and sun glasses did little to make a tour around the Santiago Apostol Parish Church,

Laguna de Bay: Doing the Loop- part 1

It had been in my bucket list for over ten years now. And with not much prodding and planning, V, J and I dropped everything to spend a day of motoring from one quaint town  to the next to visit old churches, savor local delicacies and simply to take in the scenery around Laguna de Bay.   

We drove off while the neighborhood was still asleep.  With nary a care in the world, we were confident with V’s reliable driver, Mang T; we had enough snacks and drinks to last us until the next day (if necessary); and, with child-like trust, we knew our guardian angels would come along with us.

The Potato Reminder

Clean up breakfast dishes. Attend parish meeting. Do grocery. Hurry back home to start preparing lunch.

It was a chore-full morning.  I was now busy peeling potatoes to go with the "bistek" I was serving for lunch.  A million and one things and scenes were going through was mind.  It was pure luck that I did not cut myself with all that thinking.

CDO: City of Delightful Options- Part 2

Nothing like starting our 2nd day in CDO with blue skies and a hearty breakfast spread prepared at Seda. Normally a fruit and oatmeal person,

CDO: City of Delightful Options

I had visited Cagayan de Oro more than ten years ago. But at that time of our visit, my kids and I used CDO as a jump off point for our visit to enchanting Camiguin. We did not find it necessary to explore CDO then as we felt it did not have anything of interest to entice us to stay.

Last week, I was back in CDO with a group of travel buddies.

Crying Business

It’s 8AM on a Saturday morning and I am crying. Tears are streaming down my face and my drippy nose is getting in the way of putting breakfast for my hubby on the table. The crazy thing was there really was no big reason to the drama (as my hubby annoyingly labeled my state of emotions). And what’s crazier than my crying was that I could not stop crying for very long. I silently scolded myself to stop crying and to realize the utter uselessness of drained emotions. But nagging thoughts entered my head and my eyes welled up again and again.

Life Lines

I am done with the dishes. The kitchen floor is swept clean of crumbs and bits of chopped veggies. I now massage some lotion on my knobby fingers and veiny hands. I had let go of my household help for more than a year now, and the ritual of kneading lotion into my tired hands after some house work has become a habit.

The Taxi Cab Chronicles

The cab driver pressed the start button on his meter machine as I settled in at the back of his cab for the ride to the airport. I requesed that the volume of his radio be turned down a bit before I started praying the rosary.

As is usually the case, traffic is heavy and I am done with my prayers even before we are one-forth of the way to the airport. I check my watch and glance at the huge billboards on the side of the road as the cab makes its slow progress.

For the next hour or so, the cab is my world and the driver my silent companion. And is usually the case, something catches my eye that I make an audible comment inside the cab. As is usually the case, the driver responses with his own thoughts.

My Carpool Family

In the late ‘80s, gasoline became quite expensive due to the Middle East crisis. (What else is new?!?!) I didn’t know how to drive and so I commuted. Bus fares increased and I tightened the purse strings.

Every now and then I would be lucky to get a ride with a next door neighbor who happened to work in the same office as I did. In one of those rides together, we thought it would be a good idea to start a carpool among neighbors and friends living nearby.

Turning Chicken

A well meaning friend, let’s call her C, comes up to me after morning mass and tells me that she was castigated by a mutual friend (let’s call her D).


Apparently, D was upset that she was not informed about a little gathering we had a few days ago. Since I was charged with informing the group, C asked if I had sent out the text invite to D. I immediately said yes!

Not wanting to upset my morning, I changed the subject. After we went out separate ways, I could not help feeling uneasy about the whole thing. Did my text fail to reach D?

Upon checking my celphone’s sent folder, I could no longer retrieve the messages I sent out four days ago as my unit could only save the last 15 messages.

My first thought was to just ignore this little incident. D has been known to be moody so I brush her actions. But somehow the nagging thought that I might have hurt D would not go away. Pride is an awful thing to have and can make a strong person turn chicken and run the other way. I did not want to start the year by becoming a chicken.

After morning mass today, I decided to greet D as she was leaving the church. I tried to catch her eye, but she seemed bent on looking the other way.

Oh well, I guess she still had issues with me. Then again, maybe she had to hurry home and I was making unfair assumptions.

In time, I hope I build enough courage to walk up to her and clear the air. Life is too short to let pride stand in the way of friendship. Besides, I don’t want to be a chicken.

xxxoooxxxoooxxxoooxxx

On the last night in London, my sister and I were deciding what and where to eat. Passing several restaurants in a nearby mall, we decided to try out the chicken at Nando’s. Top on the menu was Peri-peri chicken—a spicy dish with roots in both Portugal and Africa. I was so taken by the delicious flavor that I made up my mind to make it at home.

After reading up on the many peri-peri recipes on the internet, I ended up trying out the recipe offered by Antony Worrall Thompson found on the BBC website as reference. And I must say that it hit the spot.


Here’s one chicken dish that you can be proud of and will surely have your friends come running to get a bite.


Piri-piri Chicken (adapted from AWT’s recipe)

Brine 6 pieces of chicken legs and thighs (about 1 kilo) in a measure of ¼ c salt and enough water to cover the chicken. Leave in the fridge overnight or at least 4 hours.

Peri-Peri Marinade

Place all of the following ingredients into a pan and simmer for about 2-3 minutes. 1 bell pepper (roasted, charred skin peeled off, sliced) – I roast my pepper directly on the flames of my gas burner.

1 serrano pepper (chili espada—the one you use for sinigang—also roasted, charred skin peeled off and sliced. If you want more heat, you can use more pepper or the hotter variety of pepper)

1 T chopped garlic
1 t salt
½ t dried oregano (or 1 t fresh oregano)
½ t paprika
¼ c olive oil
3 T lemoncito or lemon juice

Forward March!

I made it!!! 2013 and I am still alive and kicking—Praise God!

Looking back at 2012, I remember sadly friends and relatives who had to bid their final farewell. I shake my head with regret at major times when I should have been nicer, more generous, more willing to give a helping hand and more grateful for all that I already had instead of focusing on what I didn’t have. I sigh at the thought of lost opportunities. I laugh now at the times when slight ailments would, in my mind, escalate to something fatal. Although that’s all in the past now, I shall bring it up front from time to time to strengthen my resolve to be better, stronger in the New Year.


Here’s wishing us all a year of no regrets or at least less of the “could have, should have and would have” moments.

xoxoxoxox

What better way to start my resolve than by getting involved with a Three Kings’ Celebration for the underprivileged scholars of my Parish. For a moment, the committee was feeling the pinch for funds to support the event. There was only enough for the food--- no drinks, no prizes for the games and contests. But our anxieties were quickly put to rest. Time and time again, I must remind myself that good intentions always attract the needed support. In a short time, donations came in to take care of our concerns.

To further help with my goals for 2013, I will keep in mind the opening prayer given by a fellow mentor at the program for the Three Kings’ Celebration . Paraphrasing it in English, she said:  “Let us pray that we become wise like the Three Kings. In living our lives, let us remember to:

• Make Jesus the light of our life

• Continue trusting in Jesus most specially during the darkest hours of our life

• Follow the words of Jesus

• Pray with openness and deep reverence

• Give only the best of ourselves to Jesus who is present in each of our fellowmen

xoxoxoxox

Part of my resolution is to be more discerning in what I put into my mouth. I have to be more conscious that anything I eat will either end up on my thighs, my belly or worse, clogging my arteries. For starters, I have found two fish recipes that turned out to be delicious and best of all, easy to prepare.


Staying healthy will be a piece of cake---- radish cake that is. Must have humor for 2013!! (Your thought bubble: Just stick to the recipe and skip the joke)

Steamed Creamy Dory with Light Soy Sauce

500 grams creamy dory fillets, sliced in serving pieces ( you may use other white fish)
salt and pepper to season the fish
1 thumb-size ginger, peeled and sliced into strips


Season fillets with salt and pepper and toss in the ginger strips. Arrange fish and ginger in your already steaming steamer and steam for about 10 minutes. Over-steaming is not good for this dish. Set aside.


For the light soy dressing:
2 T light soy sauce (Kikoman)
2 T of water (or more if you still find it salty)
1 tsp grated ginger
2 t brown sugar
a dribble or two of sesame oil to taste

Put everything in a pot and bring to a simmer until sugar dissolves. Set aside.
Garnishments:
Toasted garlic
Chopped green onions or leeks

Assemble:
Arrange your steamed fish on a serving dish. Pour the light soy sauce and garnish with toasted garlic and chopped green onions.

Tilapia Fillet with Capers
250 grams of tilapia Fillets
3 T calamansi juice or lemon juice
Garlic powder
Salt
3 T melted butter or olive oil
1-2 T capers (less if your not a fan)
1/2 t oregano (dry) or 1 t if fresh
A dash of paprika


Season the fillets with salt, garlic powder, the calamansi juice and the melted butter or olive oil. Arrange in a baking dish and sprinkle with the capers, oregano and paprika.

Bake in a 425 degree oven until you can easily flake the fish—about 10 minutes. Or you can microwave it on high for 3-5 minutes.

Fish be with you!! (I couldn’t help it)