The Return

My sister, G, and her husband were ecstatic. 

Their “hijo unico”, P,  was on a one-month long vacation from his US base job.  And they made sure to pull out all the stops to guarantee the best ever one month visit for P.

Travels to the provinces were their favorite form of bonding as a family.  And travel they did.  It was like old times:  my brother-in-law’s keen interest on 4-wheel driving, my nephew’s love for photography and my sister’s adventurous spirit made for the perfect vacation and bonding experience. 

Naturally, Cebu made it in their bucket list.  My nephew had to check out the whale sharks of Oslob (a first for him), had to get his fill on steamed fried rice (his all-time Cebu craving), and  had to give my mother a tight hug (or else!). 

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.  

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.”

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. 

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.

Flower Power

Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful; they are sunshine, food and medicine for the soul. Luther Burbank


Whenever I find myself thinking about a problem, I can’t help but sometimes get deeper and deeper into a bottomless abyss of despair and anxiety. It’s like an addiction of never ending what ifs and whys.

I remember the many times I would knock myself out with worry. Before long my fertile imagination would paint a guesome picture of the worse kind of accident. Then time passes and I marvel at how quickly these worries go “puff”.

Of course, there have been close calls and it would have been unnatural if I did not worry. But it’s dwelling on them far too long that causes havoc to tranquility. And so before I realize that dwelling on a situation is not going to help, I have already died a thousand imaginary deaths.

It’s a good thing that every now and then I get a wake-up call that puts everything into perspective. Sometimes it takes the form of a song, a passage in a novel,  and, sometimes it’s a shared story.

Just yesterday, a friend pulled me aside to share his wake-up call. Let’s call him R.

R is an early riser. At 4AM, he is up and busy sweeping the dry leaves that had fallen in his yard. As he sweeps the leaves into a pile, his mind is preoccupied with a financial problem. What should he do? Who can he ask for help? How will he continue to support family members who depend on him? These questions go round and round in his head as he moved on to water his plants. He is very passionate about his plants but lately, his focus had been on his problem. He was about to enter his house, when his attention was caught by a Trumpet shrub that was in full bloom. The morning sun was shining on it just like a spotlight on a stage actress.

He had been so anxious over his problem that he was losing all hope. He had buried himself in his own misery and had lost sight of the beauty that was around him. With new resolve, he got ready to attend the early morning mass. Then and there R accepted that he had done all he could and was leaving the rest to God. A God who never fails to send us reminders of hope in the form of flowers-- if we care to to take notice.

xoxoxoxoxox

I remember being served deep fried stuffed squash flowers in one of those provincial heritage tours. As I recall, the flowers were stuffed with a mixture of ground pork and shrimps; dunked in a batter; and deep fried. Unfortunately, I don’t have the recipe. But I will not dwell on my limitations.   Instead, I share with you some eye-catching beauties from my garden.

Periwinkle (suppose to cure cancer)



Lantana: a butterfly's delight



My Summer Blooming Lilies

Hibiscus aka Gumamela= a herbal tea

  These are my everyday reminders of hope.

TB or not TB

I am a hypochondriac. The smallest ache, the slightest skin discoloration, a drop in weight can set me off into a mindless journey into a tunnel of despair.

Recently, I came from such a journey. It all started with a sore throat and joint aches. I did not think about it much—at first. A little warm salt water gargle, a pain killer and mega-dose of Vitamin C would do the trick.



The malaise I felt did not go away as quickly as I expected. It lingered on like an unwelcomed guest. Then early one morning, I woke up and coughed up a mean looking phlegm.

Enter the working of a crazy mind of a hypochondriac. I had TB. I knew it. I got it from my contact with the poor kids I mentor to once a month. I was not careful when I held their hands, touched their faces and partook of Holy Communion with them.

I am going to die all because of my exposure; my involvement. I should have heeded my family’s warning about picking up a disease from my excursions to the poor neighborhood.

I then started to think of how to disengage myself from the mentoring program. Donate money would be a better and cleaner option. Even better, just stay at home and limit any form of human contact.

But wait! Somewhere deep down instead of me, sanity surfaced. I realized that I am going to die— someday. Maybe from TB, maybe not. Maybe from food poisoning picked up from my trips; or a tragedy less poignant as dying from old age.

Surely the tragedy would not be contracting some dreaded disease. There are remedies for that. The tragedy would be letting the fear of dying hold me back from doing something good for the least of my neighbors. This would be the greater malaise, the greater disease that would rob me of living a full life.

Thankfully, the mindless journey came to an end. I am on the road to recovery.

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My participation at a recent pre-Advent retreat gave me a better understanding on living a full life. It was an opportunity to listen to two young priests who were very articulate. But their joyful aura gave more testament to their talk on life and eternity.

But besides the memorable talks, there were also the simple but flavorful meals served by the sisters managing the retreat house. One dish that I enjoyed a lot was Fish Sarsiado. Or also called Kardilyong Isda. It’s a dish that in its simplicity one can derive great pleasure.

Here’s my version of such a recipe that captures the simple joys of eating.

Fish Sarsiado

You will need:
½ kilo of alumahan ( striped mackerel) or Matang Baka (Big-eyed Scad)



Oil for frying fish
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 small onion, chopped
2 tomatoes, chopped
½ c stock or water
1-2 eggs, lightly beaten
Salt and pepper and patis (Optional)

What to do:
After cleaning the fish, season with salt and pepper. Heat up oil in a pan and fry the fish.Set aside once done.

In another pan, add about a tablespoon of oil. Saute the garlic, onions and the tomatoes until tender. Add just enough stock or water to half-cover the veggies (some use rice washing— resulting water from washing your rice prior to cooking). Add the fried fish and bring to a quick boil before lowering the heat to a simmer. Simmer for about 5 minutes so that the fish can soak up some of the moisture. Stir in the beaten eggs and continue to simmer until the eggs have set. Season with salt and pepper and maybe some fish sauce.

Transfer to your serving dish and as always this goes very well with steaming rice.

(picture to follow when I cook this again at home)

“Eternity begins when we live a full and joyful life. A full life that can only be attained by following in the teaching of Jesus (or in the teaching of ones chosen faith). Fear only holds us back from living life to the fullest.”

Appetite for Life

Eagerly she waits for her son-in-law to get ready to drive her to church service. She's all dressed up in a Chanel inspired dark blue dress that has white trims on the edge of the collar and sleeves. She carries a dainty black bag and her cane.

She is 98 years old. But her stooped posture, silky white hair and wrinkle lined face cannot hide the youthful exuberance beaming through her lively eyes.

When asked, she says that she does not know for sure the reason why she has lived so long. She does know that when she wakes up each morning, she gives thanks for the chance to witness all that the day has to offer. And if she should wake up in the middle of the night, she takes it as a cue to recite well-loved poems and sing her favorite songs. She does not let worries or fears take hold of her for long. A nice happy tune usually does the trick.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Want to live a long and happy life? The secret is eating everything and anything in moderation. The following recipe is sure to heighten your appetite... but do remember to eat this in moderation or else you will be very happy but I can't promise you for how long.

Ginisang Bagoong sa Kamias(Sauted Shrimp Paste with Bilimbi-- I kid you not)

about 1/2 c sliced kamias
1 c diced tomatoes
1/2 c dliced onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
2-3 tablespoons of bagoong (colored pink)
1/2 c pork crackling (kinapusan in bisaya)== optional but a great pity if you miss out on this



Saute the garlic, onions, tomatoes and kamias. Once tender, add the bagoong-- quantity is a very personal thing.



When the bagoong is nicely incorporated, set aside to cool down.



Kinapusan
2-3 cupts of cubed pork rind ( you can use trimmings from porkchops and the like)
water and salt

After washing your pork fat cubes, place in a kawali (wok), add some salt and water enough to cover the pork. Bring to a boil then lower the heat to a simmer. Stir from time to time. After awhile, the water will evaporate and the pork will start to give off fat/oil. Make sure that you protect yourself with long cooking mittens, a long ladle and a cover for your wok. This is dangerous operation as the pork could send up a hot splash of oil.

Stir the pork now and then. Remove from the pan when golden brown.



Once it cools down, you can incorporate this cripy nuggets into your sauted bagoong.



Serve with lots of rice!

What to do with the oil/lard?
-- live dangerously and use when cooking fried rice or add the tablespoon to your paksiw. Or if you can get the recipe, make torta de Cebu-- you need pork lard (not butter or margarine as you probably were thinking).