ISINILANG ang demokrasya sa palengke, sa agora— nakatutuwang malaman na kabilang ang mga hinahangaan kong sina Pythagoras (“He who lives according to Nature lives as the gods have chosen.”), Socrates (“Know yourself. The unexamined life is not worth living.”), at Manny B. Villar (“Heto na si Dong, bigyan n’yo agad ng beer.”) sa mga nakahiligan ang pamamalengke.
Tagni-tagniin ang mga tagpong ilalahad. Para maunawa ang ilandang ng isipang matipid, the economy of thought—not the paucity, dearth or death that bedevils mendicant thought, sinasadya talaga ang kalaswaan sa salsal ng mga salita.
Hagalpak ng halakhak matapos matunghayan ang karatula sa harap ng isang spa. Nagsasaad ng paanyaya sa mga nais itakwil ang kanilang likas na kulay ng balat… na paanyaya rin upang dumaluhong ang skin cancer.
Sansaksak ng glutathione, P3,500.
Nakangisi na habang pumipili ng manibalang na abukado at a produce stall in Farmer’s Market in Cubao, Quezon City just a shot off that same spa where I saw that sign… the sight of that sign that threw me into a fit of laughter…
Sangkilong abukado, P60 na tumataginting.
Nakagisnan kong ipinapakain na lang sa baboy ang abukado, lalo na ‘yung malabsa—hindi lagkitan—na dalawang dangkal ang haba mula tampok hanggang tangkay. Apat na abukado lang, busog na ang kahit walong kulig o piglet.
Natangay palabas ng Pilipinas ang kung ilang binhi ng ganoong abukado—kamukat-mukat, nagbebenta na ang mga pinagdalhang bansa ng tone-toneladang abukado sa iba’t ibang cosmetics giants. At ginagamit naman ang abukado bilang sangkap sa kanilang produkto. Anupa’t tumatabo ng bilyones mula sa malabsang abukado, na ipinapakain lang nga noon sa mga patabaing kulig, manok, iba pang livestock.
Sometime last week, I told my preggy daughter that eating alligator pears can help stabilize her blood sugar level—and there’s a bit of alchemy in avocado, why, it makes food nutrients bio-available… easily ingested and readily absorbed by the body.
Too, there’s bio-available folate in avocado, a needful nutrient for preggies, plus:
*Magnesium
* Folate
* Potassium
* Vitamins B, E, and K
* Lutein
* Monounsaturated fats
* Omega-3 fatty acids
Oo nga pala, inilalahok namin ang niligis na abukado sa pagkain ng aming mga kuting, tuta, aso’t pusa.
Kailangan din kasi ng aming mga alaga ng bio-available form of GLUTATHIONE… mula sa P60 sangkilong abukado.
Baka kasi mainsulto ang mga alagang sina Bonyat, Mischa, Merlin, Sorat, Okaka, Fu Yu, Fu Hao, Puki-puki, Kwan Yin, Pin Yin, Bhatman, Toyang, at Shampoo kung dadalhin ko pa sila sa spa.
Alaga. Halaga. Things both palpable and non-palpable that must be cared for, nurtured in grit and grace. Alagaan. Pahalagahan.
So let me cherish knowledge and the wisdom of its practical applications.
Inungutan ng kanyang edad-15 anak na babae ang isang kainuman na ibili ito ng iPod… sa isa pang kabungguang-bote umungot ng P4,000 para maidagdag sa pambili. Napahagalpak ng halakhak nang maalala ang edad-15 na sukat-40 ang dibdib sa Avenida, naglalako naman ng binaligtad na iPod. Puday sa presyong P500.
Tagpo pa rin sa palengke: Akmang pipitikin ng binatilyo ang nakabalumbong salaping papel sa bulsa ng suot kong polo. Naudlot nang maramdaman ang kambal na balisong sa kanyang magkabilang tagiliran, akmang iwawakwak na hanggang sa dibdib. Hintakot na napangisi’t lumayo…
Sa araw-araw, 100 takal ng kaldag sa kasanayang kali ang kailangan para magawa ang ganoong iglap na igkas ng kamao o patalim. Muscle memory can be nurtured and inhered as component of body wisdom.
Violent reactions, contrary views, viruses that can wreck a mobile phone’s pathetic database, death threats, pornographic and kinky pictures, games, chess opening analyses, suggestions, comments, exotic recipes for miso, chevon, tofu and aubergines; professions of undying love or lust, snippets of Van Halen covers or compositions, huge fund transfers, or excess P2.50 load welcomed at 09284974566, mwa-ha-ha-haw!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Bibili ka ba ng P500 iPod?
HIGIT na maraming bilang ng pasahero sa MRT ang makakabasa nito… higit sa P100 na nga ang pasaheng dudugo sa bulsa, mula Bulacan hanggang Cubao pa lang ang narating, dadagdag pa ng may P50 para makasuksok-pasok sa tampok na bahaging iPod o bumaligtad na puday ng Makati Business Center… Dadanak na talaga ang dugo sa bulsa sapul maging bunton-bunton, suson-suson at sapin-sapin ang dagdag-presyo sa mga produktong petrolyo.
Higit na malaking bilang ng bumbunan ang maaambunan at masisingawan nito, baka sakaling mahawa sa kakatwang ilandang-alimuom ng paglalahad sa pitak na ‘to.
Maibabahagi sa kanila ang mga mumunting kaligayahang tinatamasa—kagaya nitong biniling P300 tuta sa Quiapo… ni hindi pa matiyak ang lahi kung Roadweiller, Kubrador retriever, o German-cut shepherd… sinambilat ng kinse anyos mula sa kinalagyang kahon habang nagpapalinis ng kuko sa harap ng isang panaderya sa kahabaan ng Avenida Rizal, Sta. Cruz sa Maynila… iniulaol sa pagitan ng kanyang nagngangalit-putok na Pinatubo at Hibok-Hibok… pinadilaan sa tuta na naganyak namang tumalima, humimod-himod… naglumuhod na hinihingi pilit ang tuta… ayoko… bibilhin ang tuta… ayoko pa rin.
Iniwan sa kahon ang tuta na nagpukol ng nagsusumamong tingin sa ‘kin. Sumasamo yata, h’wag ko raw siyang ipamigay ni ipagbili…
Naglalako pala ng binali-baligtad na iPod—ay-pud ang bigkas ng iba kaya kung mababaligtad ay kakatwang pakikinig pala ang pakay sa naturang laruan. Oo, iPod ang inilalako ng naturang dilag. Na kinse raw. ‘Kako’y mahigit 40.
Idiniin ng kausap ang edad ng naglalako pero mas nakalantad sa mapagnasang paningin ang sukat ng balaybay ng likas na BJ-- buko juice. Delikadong makasuhan ng statutory rape o pakikipag-camaraderie sa estatuwang rebulto. Kikilabutan (mula sa katagang Batangan ang “labot” o mga laman-loob, menudencia, innards, viscera, or offal samantalang ang naunang dalawang pantig ay ang kumakatas na pinapasukang lagusan upang mabungkal ang mga laman-loob).
P500 iPod? Napakamura. Napamura.
Nagpadugo’t tiyak na nangutang daw ng P25,000 ang katotong Dennis Fetalino—saan na naman kayang blusa at bulsa siya magbubungkal ng ganoong halaga? Bayad-piyansa. Estafa ang kaso. Nadawit dahil kabilang siya sa dating board of directors ng National Press Club na nahaharap na naman sa asunto… Pinagtiyap ng pagkakataon na mga beteranong peryodista ang nakasalamuha sa isang barberya sa Kalye Florentino Torres, nanagimsim na unti-unting nalalagas na ang hanay ng mga tinubuan na ng tahid sa peryodismo… pagsama-samahin man silang lahat na pawang mga batikan, mas malaki raw ang bilang ng National Press Club members mula isang tabloid pa lang… dalawa-sampera nang lumalabas sa dami ng peryodistang nasa Metro Manila pa lang.
Dalawang ulit na nakapulot ng barat ang nagtitinda ng P500 iPod… pero hindi nagkakatuluyan ang transuction. Namamahalan ang mga mahilig na kumag.
Muling napamura nang hindi ako mapagbilhan ng P150 Internet card para sa tatlong araw o 36 na oras na gamit—that prepaid service had been pulled out of the market. On the other hand, the gamine P500 iPod remains very much in the market… Makinis… Drop-dead voluptuous.
P100 card lang ang nakasalpak na dial-up Internet service sa araw-araw na kaniig na desktop computer… sanlinggo rin akong makakapaglakbay-diwa sa iba’t ibang lunan sa cyberspace… napakalayo ng mga mararating at kung anu-ano ang mahahalungkat, mapupulot sa konting halaga.
Hindi naman mahirap ang buhay… There’s that cheap cuddly cur addition to our household, its angelic demeanor bringing joy and vibrant life force, kasalamuha ng mga alagang aso’t pusa.
Violent reactions, contrary views, viruses that can wreck a mobile phone’s pathetic database, death threats, pornographic and kinky pictures, games, chess opening analyses, suggestions, comments, exotic recipes for miso, chevon, tofu and aubergines; and professions of undying love or lust, snippets of Van Halen covers or compositions, huge fund transfers, or excess P2.50 load welcomed at 09174216774, mwa-ha-ha-haw!
Higit na malaking bilang ng bumbunan ang maaambunan at masisingawan nito, baka sakaling mahawa sa kakatwang ilandang-alimuom ng paglalahad sa pitak na ‘to.
Maibabahagi sa kanila ang mga mumunting kaligayahang tinatamasa—kagaya nitong biniling P300 tuta sa Quiapo… ni hindi pa matiyak ang lahi kung Roadweiller, Kubrador retriever, o German-cut shepherd… sinambilat ng kinse anyos mula sa kinalagyang kahon habang nagpapalinis ng kuko sa harap ng isang panaderya sa kahabaan ng Avenida Rizal, Sta. Cruz sa Maynila… iniulaol sa pagitan ng kanyang nagngangalit-putok na Pinatubo at Hibok-Hibok… pinadilaan sa tuta na naganyak namang tumalima, humimod-himod… naglumuhod na hinihingi pilit ang tuta… ayoko… bibilhin ang tuta… ayoko pa rin.
Iniwan sa kahon ang tuta na nagpukol ng nagsusumamong tingin sa ‘kin. Sumasamo yata, h’wag ko raw siyang ipamigay ni ipagbili…
Naglalako pala ng binali-baligtad na iPod—ay-pud ang bigkas ng iba kaya kung mababaligtad ay kakatwang pakikinig pala ang pakay sa naturang laruan. Oo, iPod ang inilalako ng naturang dilag. Na kinse raw. ‘Kako’y mahigit 40.
Idiniin ng kausap ang edad ng naglalako pero mas nakalantad sa mapagnasang paningin ang sukat ng balaybay ng likas na BJ-- buko juice. Delikadong makasuhan ng statutory rape o pakikipag-camaraderie sa estatuwang rebulto. Kikilabutan (mula sa katagang Batangan ang “labot” o mga laman-loob, menudencia, innards, viscera, or offal samantalang ang naunang dalawang pantig ay ang kumakatas na pinapasukang lagusan upang mabungkal ang mga laman-loob).
P500 iPod? Napakamura. Napamura.
Nagpadugo’t tiyak na nangutang daw ng P25,000 ang katotong Dennis Fetalino—saan na naman kayang blusa at bulsa siya magbubungkal ng ganoong halaga? Bayad-piyansa. Estafa ang kaso. Nadawit dahil kabilang siya sa dating board of directors ng National Press Club na nahaharap na naman sa asunto… Pinagtiyap ng pagkakataon na mga beteranong peryodista ang nakasalamuha sa isang barberya sa Kalye Florentino Torres, nanagimsim na unti-unting nalalagas na ang hanay ng mga tinubuan na ng tahid sa peryodismo… pagsama-samahin man silang lahat na pawang mga batikan, mas malaki raw ang bilang ng National Press Club members mula isang tabloid pa lang… dalawa-sampera nang lumalabas sa dami ng peryodistang nasa Metro Manila pa lang.
Dalawang ulit na nakapulot ng barat ang nagtitinda ng P500 iPod… pero hindi nagkakatuluyan ang transuction. Namamahalan ang mga mahilig na kumag.
Muling napamura nang hindi ako mapagbilhan ng P150 Internet card para sa tatlong araw o 36 na oras na gamit—that prepaid service had been pulled out of the market. On the other hand, the gamine P500 iPod remains very much in the market… Makinis… Drop-dead voluptuous.
P100 card lang ang nakasalpak na dial-up Internet service sa araw-araw na kaniig na desktop computer… sanlinggo rin akong makakapaglakbay-diwa sa iba’t ibang lunan sa cyberspace… napakalayo ng mga mararating at kung anu-ano ang mahahalungkat, mapupulot sa konting halaga.
Hindi naman mahirap ang buhay… There’s that cheap cuddly cur addition to our household, its angelic demeanor bringing joy and vibrant life force, kasalamuha ng mga alagang aso’t pusa.
Violent reactions, contrary views, viruses that can wreck a mobile phone’s pathetic database, death threats, pornographic and kinky pictures, games, chess opening analyses, suggestions, comments, exotic recipes for miso, chevon, tofu and aubergines; and professions of undying love or lust, snippets of Van Halen covers or compositions, huge fund transfers, or excess P2.50 load welcomed at 09174216774, mwa-ha-ha-haw!
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Sigaw sa sigwa
Sigaw ng anak sa doodles11006@yahoo.com:
AYAW ko na sa Pilipinas tumira.
Sigwa ng ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com:
WALO ang kasunod na tinigok—lima ang musmos pa—sa Calamba, Laguna matapos ang nakawan sa bangko sa Cabuyao sa Laguna rin… na 10 nga ang pinatay…
‘Yung pinakahuli naming panhik nina Aaron at Arjuna sa Sierra Madre, nagpahiwatig ‘yung nakausap namin sa hinahawang tatamnan ng puno. Kakilala din ng kahanggan nating si Mang Ben ang mga nagpahirap muna’t pumatay sa anak niyang nagkataong nag-iisa sa kubo nila. Sinunog pati kubo. Nang gabi ring iyon, may tatlong naghahanap sa amin du’n sa madalas na tinutulugan nating puwesto—nakamatyag ako sa dilim, nakakubli. Kung napalapit kahit dalawang metro lang sa pinagkanlungan ko, pakikinabangan muli ang niten ichi-ryu ni Musashi… there’s kill in skill… makakapagligpit na naman… pampasikip lang sa mundo ang mga ‘yon, pakikinabangan ng lupa kung magiging organic compost.
Pinagbilhan sa kalabaw, naibenta ni Mang Ben ng P20,000 yata—‘yun ang pakay ng mga nagpahirap-pumatay-sumunog sa anak niya. Nagsusunog ng kilay sa high school ang bata. Pantustos sa pag-aaral ang kaunting pinagbilhan. Hindi nagsuplong si Mang Ben. Walang kaso. Ni hindi nagpapakahirap ang mga pulis sa bayan na sadyain ang lupalop na iyon. ‘Yun ngang army chekpoint na mga apat na oras na lakad ang layo mula doon, binira minsan ng mga taong labas…
Merong tinatawag na post traumatic stress syndrome matapos magligpit ng tao—mga 13-15 araw na hindi talaga makakatulog, parang may kung anong humalang na mabigat-hindi-mabuhat sa sariling loob. Matapos ‘yon, may naiiwang hibo ng pamumula sa mata… oro, plata… mata.
Lumalabas na may sangkot na dating kawal sa nakawan sa RCBC sa Cabuyao… mukhang talamak ang post traumatic stress syndrome… baka beterano sa giyera… hinahanap-hanap ng katawan ang pagpatay… gone over the edge… mahirap maibalik ang katinuan ng utak niyon.
Wala nang capital punishment o bitay sa bansa—pro-life ang tindig ng Palasyo… that policy standpoint doesn’t take into account the low lifes, miserable lives, and inhuman lives…ironic how the pro-life babble is an utter disregard for any quality of life… bitay kasi ang katapat ng pandarambong sa kaban ng bayan. Kaya tinanggal ang ganoong parusa na nakabantang ilapat din sa mga taga-Palasyo’t iba pang nakapuwesto sa gobyerno. Ang alam kong capital punishment na umiiral ngayon: buwis. Meron ngang capital gains tax.
Kahit may mga ganoong puta-putaking pagsiklab ng karumal-dumal na krimen sa bansa, masasabing malalim ang pinanghahawakan nating paniniwala. [Mauugat nga pala ang karumal-dumal sa katagang “rumal,” dilaw na bigkis sa baywang ng mga Thugee (pinag-ugatan naman ng katagang thug o upahang pusakal) sa India nitong mga ika-13 hanggang ika-19 na siglo. Ginagamit na pambigti ang rumal. Habang unti-unting nauupos ang hininga ng biktima, iniaalay ang buhay niya kay Kali na bathaluman ng kamatayan, pagpuksa, at kalibugan.]
Pero Abu Sayyaf man na kidnap for ransom gang lang, nagpupugay pa rin sa adhan, kahit isinusuka yata ni Allah…
Pinakatiwasay, pinakamapayapang bahagi ng daluyong ang pinakagitna nito—there is calm in the eye of a storm. Ganoong taimtim na katiwasayan ang sumigid sa dibdib ko habang kanlong ng karimlan at kugunan, matamang nakasubaybay sa bawat kilos ng tatlong tumutunton sa amin nina Aaron at Arjuna. There’s classic beauty in that calm that can ply out the Fibonacci sequence—0, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55… -- plus the phi, the golden ratio, 1.6180339887498948482…. You can figure out the practical applications. Ganoon kumilos ang unos… marahan muna. Hanggang humahaginit na lintik na ang bilis… ganoon din tayo kumikilos. Kasinrikit ng lintik. Mahinahon na tila daluyong. To live according to nature is to live according to the gods’ wishes, ani Pythagoras.
Maunos sa Pilipinas—hindi ‘yung takal-takda ng 20 bagyong pumapasok sa bansa taun-taon. Iba’t ibang anyo ng unos sa pamumuhay at kabuhayan ang nananalanta. Pero nakabaon na nga sa loob kong naroon tayo lagi sa pinakagitna. Nakatahan sa mismong mata ng bawat unos, kupkop ng mapagpalang kamay ng Maykapal.
Exodus nga pala ang tawag sa paghahagilap ng mga Hudyo sa lupaing tahanan na matatawag na sariling bayan… exodus din ang paglalagalag ng mga Filipino sa iba’t ibang lupain para maghagilap ng matinong kabuhayan at katiwasayan… a nation moving from frontier to frontier, well, every instance the Jews ran roughshod of God’s commandments, as you learned in Sunday school, they were scattered like sheep ravaged by wolves… ganito ang nagaganap ngayon sa mga Filipino, beset by unexplained poverty while some nations are awash in inexplicable wealth and opulence. Not too many of us took Sunday school seriously…
Mula walong milyong nakakalat na populasyon bago sumiklab ang WWII, nalagas sa final solution ni Adollph Hitler ang anim na milyong Hudyo—at walang isang angaw (the Tagalog word for “million”) ang nakatuntong sa Palestina nitong 1946 nang binuo ang kanilang bansa, tinawag na Israel—after Jacob’s name which meant “he who wrestles with God”—and it’s the only Middle Eastern spread of hardscrabble real estate that has no oil reservoirs beneath…
There’s this sinking feeling that the country is overdue for a population correction. Something akin to Hitler’s final solution… Pa’no ‘yan masaker uli ang namumuong kasunod na balita?
Teka, ayaw mo na sa Pilipinas tumira? Pinakamasarap pa ring tumira sa Pilipinas, katakam-takam, nalalanghap, nalalasap ang malinamnam na alindog ng mga Pilipinas, don’t you think so?
AYAW ko na sa Pilipinas tumira.
Sigwa ng ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com:
WALO ang kasunod na tinigok—lima ang musmos pa—sa Calamba, Laguna matapos ang nakawan sa bangko sa Cabuyao sa Laguna rin… na 10 nga ang pinatay…
‘Yung pinakahuli naming panhik nina Aaron at Arjuna sa Sierra Madre, nagpahiwatig ‘yung nakausap namin sa hinahawang tatamnan ng puno. Kakilala din ng kahanggan nating si Mang Ben ang mga nagpahirap muna’t pumatay sa anak niyang nagkataong nag-iisa sa kubo nila. Sinunog pati kubo. Nang gabi ring iyon, may tatlong naghahanap sa amin du’n sa madalas na tinutulugan nating puwesto—nakamatyag ako sa dilim, nakakubli. Kung napalapit kahit dalawang metro lang sa pinagkanlungan ko, pakikinabangan muli ang niten ichi-ryu ni Musashi… there’s kill in skill… makakapagligpit na naman… pampasikip lang sa mundo ang mga ‘yon, pakikinabangan ng lupa kung magiging organic compost.
Pinagbilhan sa kalabaw, naibenta ni Mang Ben ng P20,000 yata—‘yun ang pakay ng mga nagpahirap-pumatay-sumunog sa anak niya. Nagsusunog ng kilay sa high school ang bata. Pantustos sa pag-aaral ang kaunting pinagbilhan. Hindi nagsuplong si Mang Ben. Walang kaso. Ni hindi nagpapakahirap ang mga pulis sa bayan na sadyain ang lupalop na iyon. ‘Yun ngang army chekpoint na mga apat na oras na lakad ang layo mula doon, binira minsan ng mga taong labas…
Merong tinatawag na post traumatic stress syndrome matapos magligpit ng tao—mga 13-15 araw na hindi talaga makakatulog, parang may kung anong humalang na mabigat-hindi-mabuhat sa sariling loob. Matapos ‘yon, may naiiwang hibo ng pamumula sa mata… oro, plata… mata.
Lumalabas na may sangkot na dating kawal sa nakawan sa RCBC sa Cabuyao… mukhang talamak ang post traumatic stress syndrome… baka beterano sa giyera… hinahanap-hanap ng katawan ang pagpatay… gone over the edge… mahirap maibalik ang katinuan ng utak niyon.
Wala nang capital punishment o bitay sa bansa—pro-life ang tindig ng Palasyo… that policy standpoint doesn’t take into account the low lifes, miserable lives, and inhuman lives…ironic how the pro-life babble is an utter disregard for any quality of life… bitay kasi ang katapat ng pandarambong sa kaban ng bayan. Kaya tinanggal ang ganoong parusa na nakabantang ilapat din sa mga taga-Palasyo’t iba pang nakapuwesto sa gobyerno. Ang alam kong capital punishment na umiiral ngayon: buwis. Meron ngang capital gains tax.
Kahit may mga ganoong puta-putaking pagsiklab ng karumal-dumal na krimen sa bansa, masasabing malalim ang pinanghahawakan nating paniniwala. [Mauugat nga pala ang karumal-dumal sa katagang “rumal,” dilaw na bigkis sa baywang ng mga Thugee (pinag-ugatan naman ng katagang thug o upahang pusakal) sa India nitong mga ika-13 hanggang ika-19 na siglo. Ginagamit na pambigti ang rumal. Habang unti-unting nauupos ang hininga ng biktima, iniaalay ang buhay niya kay Kali na bathaluman ng kamatayan, pagpuksa, at kalibugan.]
Pero Abu Sayyaf man na kidnap for ransom gang lang, nagpupugay pa rin sa adhan, kahit isinusuka yata ni Allah…
Pinakatiwasay, pinakamapayapang bahagi ng daluyong ang pinakagitna nito—there is calm in the eye of a storm. Ganoong taimtim na katiwasayan ang sumigid sa dibdib ko habang kanlong ng karimlan at kugunan, matamang nakasubaybay sa bawat kilos ng tatlong tumutunton sa amin nina Aaron at Arjuna. There’s classic beauty in that calm that can ply out the Fibonacci sequence—0, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55… -- plus the phi, the golden ratio, 1.6180339887498948482…. You can figure out the practical applications. Ganoon kumilos ang unos… marahan muna. Hanggang humahaginit na lintik na ang bilis… ganoon din tayo kumikilos. Kasinrikit ng lintik. Mahinahon na tila daluyong. To live according to nature is to live according to the gods’ wishes, ani Pythagoras.
Maunos sa Pilipinas—hindi ‘yung takal-takda ng 20 bagyong pumapasok sa bansa taun-taon. Iba’t ibang anyo ng unos sa pamumuhay at kabuhayan ang nananalanta. Pero nakabaon na nga sa loob kong naroon tayo lagi sa pinakagitna. Nakatahan sa mismong mata ng bawat unos, kupkop ng mapagpalang kamay ng Maykapal.
Exodus nga pala ang tawag sa paghahagilap ng mga Hudyo sa lupaing tahanan na matatawag na sariling bayan… exodus din ang paglalagalag ng mga Filipino sa iba’t ibang lupain para maghagilap ng matinong kabuhayan at katiwasayan… a nation moving from frontier to frontier, well, every instance the Jews ran roughshod of God’s commandments, as you learned in Sunday school, they were scattered like sheep ravaged by wolves… ganito ang nagaganap ngayon sa mga Filipino, beset by unexplained poverty while some nations are awash in inexplicable wealth and opulence. Not too many of us took Sunday school seriously…
Mula walong milyong nakakalat na populasyon bago sumiklab ang WWII, nalagas sa final solution ni Adollph Hitler ang anim na milyong Hudyo—at walang isang angaw (the Tagalog word for “million”) ang nakatuntong sa Palestina nitong 1946 nang binuo ang kanilang bansa, tinawag na Israel—after Jacob’s name which meant “he who wrestles with God”—and it’s the only Middle Eastern spread of hardscrabble real estate that has no oil reservoirs beneath…
There’s this sinking feeling that the country is overdue for a population correction. Something akin to Hitler’s final solution… Pa’no ‘yan masaker uli ang namumuong kasunod na balita?
Teka, ayaw mo na sa Pilipinas tumira? Pinakamasarap pa ring tumira sa Pilipinas, katakam-takam, nalalanghap, nalalasap ang malinamnam na alindog ng mga Pilipinas, don’t you think so?
Monday, May 12, 2008
Antala, ang tala...
KIKISAP na tila ningning ng tala sa isip ang pagluluto ng antala— inangit o puto maya ang tawag sa payak na kakaning malagkit. Karaniwang mga pisngi ng hinog na mangga at mainit na tsa ang kasabay nitong inihahain sa hapag.
Ganoon ang isang paraan ng pagsasaing ng bigas sa Puerto Rico. Sa halip na tubig ang sabaw-sinaing, gata ng niyog ang gamit na sangkap, ah, masagana o mayamang pantalan ang katuturan ng Puerto Rico’t titiyakin pang maikakabig ang himas ng imahinasyon sa puwerta na mamasa-masa na… lakbay-diwa pa sa saliw ng “Country Roads” ni John Denver… “Almost heaven, wet vagi… oops.. p’wet virgin pa…”
Sa dalawang tasang sinaing na malagkit, ihalo ang santasang kakang gata at ilang dahon ng pandan; igumon sa kawali, halu-haluin hanggang lubusang kumunat at bahagyang magtutong sa atay-atay o mahinang apoy. Hanguin ang naglalangis na antala, ilatag sa bandehang may sapin na dahong saging… Mayumi ang tamis ng antala, kahit na mga bahaging natutong, the heat-caramelized glucose portions of this humble fare… mahinhin ang bakas ng asukal, maging ang nalabing lagda ng tamis kakang-gatang kikislap-kislap na tila liwanag-tala sa magkakadikit na butil ng malagkit. Hindi sumisikad o sumisigid ang tamis, hindi tulad sa kalamay o kahit bibingkang binihisan ng arnibal.
Payak na anyo ng asukal ang glucose sa kanin, malagkit man o hindi, payak mang antala o mas payak na kanin. Sa bibig pa lang habang nginangata, nahihimay na mula bawat nalawaya’t naligis na butil ang glucose… na maisasalin nang kagyat sa mga ugat na daluyan ng dugo sa katawan. Maigagatong na sa lagablab ng isipan, maitutustos na upang maging maliyab ang galaw ng katawan, lalo pa sa mga gawaing pangangatawanan.
So glucose is brain fuel. Tahasang itinatakda sa may katawan na gamiting gatong: paliyabin ang apoy ng diwa, papaglatangin sa alab at lagablab ang mga himaymay ng utak, pasiglahin na tila umiindak na apoy sa kislot at kilos, sa gawi’t gawa ang buong katawan… Heed not the nudging glucose sweetness and your inner system gives up on you… this leads to diabetes… this ruthless rice crisis is for real and has been ravaging millions of Filipinos in recent years.
Kung lagi’t laging paiiralin ang mental power outage kahit walang humpay naman ang salin sa sikmura ng gatong na glucose mula bigas, ikaw naman ang unti-unting susunugin. ‘Yun nga. Die bêtes noires! Diabetes nga pala… Rice crisis talaga ‘to. Nag-uugat sa sobrang lamon ng bigas na dapat igatong sa matalim na pag-iisip at talima sa udyok ng gawain. Para bang makina ng sasakyan, nabombahan hanggang umapaw ang gas pero palyado ang kisap ng spark plug,,, nalintikan. Umuuntag, umaantig ang utak at gawaing dapat na tugunan. Pero hindi nga ginagampanan… ng mga gunggong at batugan.
Mula sa pagkaantala—na naman—ng binubuno’t binubuong aklat para sa isang pasulatan, kung saan-saan na naman nagliwaliw ang isipan. Mula pagluluto ng antala napahimod, oops, napasubsob sa Puerta Rica na masarap naman pala… napasinsay hanggang sa mapaminsalang kapansanan…
Sa halip na magsiklab sa ngitngit sa sunud-sunod na power outage… isinalang na lang ang bisig sa pagwasiwas ng palakol habang nagsasalin sa katawan at isipan ng mga orasyong pampoder… pampatibay… pampatatag… Kahit na makinang alipin lang kasi ang personal computer sa pamamahay, tiyak na humihilahod din ito sa hagok sa paulit-ulit na takbo ng check disk function para maungkat kung may mga napinsala sa sarili nito sanhi ng sunud-sunod, suson-susong pagkawala ng kuryente.
Wala namang mangyayari kung magpupuyos sa galit sa saglit ng salit-salitang patay-sindi ng kuryente. So much wreckage flies off from a derailed train of thoughts running at light speed. Ayokong manghinayang. Ni manghina’t manghinawa sa mga pabigla-biglang pagkawala ng tiyempo sa pakikipagbuno sa gawain. Kaya sa kung saan-saan ibabaling ang pansin, kung saan-saan isusuling at isusulong ang paningin.
Dumidiklap ang buntala sa bawat butil ng antala. Wala mang lulutang na latik sa inilahok na kakang gata, wala namang latak na lulubog kapag sumasagitsit nang kidlat ang gatong mula bawat butil-malagkit. Na araw-araw humihiram ng liwanag mula sa araw—‘yun ang ayokong sayangin.
Ganoon ang isang paraan ng pagsasaing ng bigas sa Puerto Rico. Sa halip na tubig ang sabaw-sinaing, gata ng niyog ang gamit na sangkap, ah, masagana o mayamang pantalan ang katuturan ng Puerto Rico’t titiyakin pang maikakabig ang himas ng imahinasyon sa puwerta na mamasa-masa na… lakbay-diwa pa sa saliw ng “Country Roads” ni John Denver… “Almost heaven, wet vagi… oops.. p’wet virgin pa…”
Sa dalawang tasang sinaing na malagkit, ihalo ang santasang kakang gata at ilang dahon ng pandan; igumon sa kawali, halu-haluin hanggang lubusang kumunat at bahagyang magtutong sa atay-atay o mahinang apoy. Hanguin ang naglalangis na antala, ilatag sa bandehang may sapin na dahong saging… Mayumi ang tamis ng antala, kahit na mga bahaging natutong, the heat-caramelized glucose portions of this humble fare… mahinhin ang bakas ng asukal, maging ang nalabing lagda ng tamis kakang-gatang kikislap-kislap na tila liwanag-tala sa magkakadikit na butil ng malagkit. Hindi sumisikad o sumisigid ang tamis, hindi tulad sa kalamay o kahit bibingkang binihisan ng arnibal.
Payak na anyo ng asukal ang glucose sa kanin, malagkit man o hindi, payak mang antala o mas payak na kanin. Sa bibig pa lang habang nginangata, nahihimay na mula bawat nalawaya’t naligis na butil ang glucose… na maisasalin nang kagyat sa mga ugat na daluyan ng dugo sa katawan. Maigagatong na sa lagablab ng isipan, maitutustos na upang maging maliyab ang galaw ng katawan, lalo pa sa mga gawaing pangangatawanan.
So glucose is brain fuel. Tahasang itinatakda sa may katawan na gamiting gatong: paliyabin ang apoy ng diwa, papaglatangin sa alab at lagablab ang mga himaymay ng utak, pasiglahin na tila umiindak na apoy sa kislot at kilos, sa gawi’t gawa ang buong katawan… Heed not the nudging glucose sweetness and your inner system gives up on you… this leads to diabetes… this ruthless rice crisis is for real and has been ravaging millions of Filipinos in recent years.
Kung lagi’t laging paiiralin ang mental power outage kahit walang humpay naman ang salin sa sikmura ng gatong na glucose mula bigas, ikaw naman ang unti-unting susunugin. ‘Yun nga. Die bêtes noires! Diabetes nga pala… Rice crisis talaga ‘to. Nag-uugat sa sobrang lamon ng bigas na dapat igatong sa matalim na pag-iisip at talima sa udyok ng gawain. Para bang makina ng sasakyan, nabombahan hanggang umapaw ang gas pero palyado ang kisap ng spark plug,,, nalintikan. Umuuntag, umaantig ang utak at gawaing dapat na tugunan. Pero hindi nga ginagampanan… ng mga gunggong at batugan.
Mula sa pagkaantala—na naman—ng binubuno’t binubuong aklat para sa isang pasulatan, kung saan-saan na naman nagliwaliw ang isipan. Mula pagluluto ng antala napahimod, oops, napasubsob sa Puerta Rica na masarap naman pala… napasinsay hanggang sa mapaminsalang kapansanan…
Sa halip na magsiklab sa ngitngit sa sunud-sunod na power outage… isinalang na lang ang bisig sa pagwasiwas ng palakol habang nagsasalin sa katawan at isipan ng mga orasyong pampoder… pampatibay… pampatatag… Kahit na makinang alipin lang kasi ang personal computer sa pamamahay, tiyak na humihilahod din ito sa hagok sa paulit-ulit na takbo ng check disk function para maungkat kung may mga napinsala sa sarili nito sanhi ng sunud-sunod, suson-susong pagkawala ng kuryente.
Wala namang mangyayari kung magpupuyos sa galit sa saglit ng salit-salitang patay-sindi ng kuryente. So much wreckage flies off from a derailed train of thoughts running at light speed. Ayokong manghinayang. Ni manghina’t manghinawa sa mga pabigla-biglang pagkawala ng tiyempo sa pakikipagbuno sa gawain. Kaya sa kung saan-saan ibabaling ang pansin, kung saan-saan isusuling at isusulong ang paningin.
Dumidiklap ang buntala sa bawat butil ng antala. Wala mang lulutang na latik sa inilahok na kakang gata, wala namang latak na lulubog kapag sumasagitsit nang kidlat ang gatong mula bawat butil-malagkit. Na araw-araw humihiram ng liwanag mula sa araw—‘yun ang ayokong sayangin.
Usbong ng ubi
HIGIT na pangahas ang tugui sa timog-silangang bahagi ng lote. Kaigtingan ng liyab ng Abril nang mag-igkas ng usbong na tila balisong, saka nangunyapit ang tinikang baging sa kasiping na patpat na puno ng ipil-ipil, magpupugay sa liwanag.
‘Yun ang uri ng tugui na hugis-daliri ang laman-ugat na nabili sa Kalye Villalobos, Quiapo. Nakasumpong nitong Enero sa palengke ng Bolinao, Pangasinan ng tugui na hugis bilog ang laman, magandang palamuti sa hapag-kainan lalo’t natalupan. Kung mapusyaw na dilaw ang laman ng patatas, maburok o halos busilak sa kaputian ang tugui. Nakakaganyak lantakan. Lalo kung sangkap na sa kaldereta. O kahit nilaga lang, kasabay ng mainit na tsa.
Marikit ang pahiwatig ng tugui sa magbubungkal nito. Matutunton ang laman mula sa punong baging na ibabadya ang paglalaman sa kailaliman kapag naninilaw na ang mga hugis-pusong dahon. Dudukalin—at ibubulaga’t maduduro ang mga daliri sa itim na koronang tinik sa mga 3-5 pulgada ng lalim, wonderful surprise unearthing a porcupine of sorts at such depth, its dagger-quills arrayed out to draw blood of the unwary, maybe soak itself in crimson ink for future writing into earth’s bowels. Magsasanga mula koronang tinik ang iba pang ugat. Na sa dulo’y mahahango ang malinamnam na laman.
Sa ilang at kalibliban, karaniwang sa lilim ng mga siit ng kawayang tinikan masusumpungan ang mga baging ng tugui. Karatig naman ng punong tugui ang pumpon ng buhong China sa aming bakuran. Para hindi naman maiwalay sa isa’t isa, maipagpatuloy ang kanilang nakagawiang tipanan sa pinagmulang dawag at kaparangan.
Ni hindi na nga hinukay para mailuto ang tugui sa bakuran—mas matiim ang kabusugan kapag nginunguya sa isipan ang nakalantad na mga pusong dahon, kumakaway sa haplos ng hangin habang lihim namang nagpapanday ng sapin-saping sundang sa kanyang ilalim habang nakikipagniig, sumisibasib sa paghahalughog ang mga ugat sa dibdib ng lupa.
Tugui ang nalabi sa mga alagang halamang-ugat—ipinaghukay ang biyenan ng ubi sa bakuran, titipak-tipakin ang may limang kilo marahil na lamang-ugat, saka ilalaga daw, igugumon sa asukal… hindi ganoon ang nakagisnang luto sa ubi. Mas masaya ang jalea.
Pero pawang malalaki na ang apat na alalay na anak sa paghahalukay ng nalulutong jalea. Ako lang ang paunti-unting magliligis ng mga nilagang tipak-ubi sa food processor. Itatambak ang naligis na bunton—3-4 na kilo-- sa kawa, sasamahan ng mga sangkap… ginadgad na balat ng 4-5 dayap… kakang-gata ng anim na niyog… dalawang lata ng gatas-kondensada… santaklob na panutsa… mga pinilas na dahon ng pandan… 500 gramo ng butter… at tagaktak ng pawis ng mga anak, edad-10 pa lang ang panganay sa apat na anak… halinhinan silang hahalukay ng nalulutong ubi sa kawa, gamit ang mahabang siyanse o samputol na sariwang palapa ng niyog. Nakalakihan nilang rituwal iyon bago magpasko.. 2-3 oras na parusa sa init ng apoy at sanghaya ng nalulutong jalea… tig-10 takal sila sa paghalukay.
Halos makalas ang bisig sa balikat sa inut-inot na halukay sa tumpok ng magiging jalea. Na kumukunat habang naluluto, lalong nagiging mahirap ang paghalukay… marami namang nakakatikim sa katas ng pawis ng apat na bata, ah, the ordeal of sorts was meant to pump up circular strength in the upper limbs and shoulders. Mostly imparting such strength in the body’s upper portion as groundwork to having firm but explosive power—the sort needed to unhinge limbs of an assailant with grace and ease.
Hindi na matiyak kung natatandaan ng mga kumag na anak ang mga sangkap sa jalea. Mahirap maghagilap sa ngayon ng dayap at panutsa. Mahirap ding mahagilap ang mga damuhong supling ngayong malalaki na’t iba na ang nakahiligan—sa ubi-gyne na nga nagsasadya ang babaeng anak, nanganganay.
Nagsipag-usbungan rin ang mga ubi nitong unang linggo ng Mayo. Kung saan-saan na naman susuling, susulong ang kani-kaniyang baging. Gagapang, tatabal. Magsisipagpugay sa araw. Lihim na magtitipon ng kilu-kilong laman sa kailaliman.
Lagi’t laging kakalkal sa lupa ng mga matamis na gunita sa pagluluto ng jalea… sa pagpanday… sa pag-iiwi… sa pag-iiwan ng tataglaying lakas ng mga supling sa kanilang paglaki… mula usbong ng ubi.
‘Yun ang uri ng tugui na hugis-daliri ang laman-ugat na nabili sa Kalye Villalobos, Quiapo. Nakasumpong nitong Enero sa palengke ng Bolinao, Pangasinan ng tugui na hugis bilog ang laman, magandang palamuti sa hapag-kainan lalo’t natalupan. Kung mapusyaw na dilaw ang laman ng patatas, maburok o halos busilak sa kaputian ang tugui. Nakakaganyak lantakan. Lalo kung sangkap na sa kaldereta. O kahit nilaga lang, kasabay ng mainit na tsa.
Marikit ang pahiwatig ng tugui sa magbubungkal nito. Matutunton ang laman mula sa punong baging na ibabadya ang paglalaman sa kailaliman kapag naninilaw na ang mga hugis-pusong dahon. Dudukalin—at ibubulaga’t maduduro ang mga daliri sa itim na koronang tinik sa mga 3-5 pulgada ng lalim, wonderful surprise unearthing a porcupine of sorts at such depth, its dagger-quills arrayed out to draw blood of the unwary, maybe soak itself in crimson ink for future writing into earth’s bowels. Magsasanga mula koronang tinik ang iba pang ugat. Na sa dulo’y mahahango ang malinamnam na laman.
Sa ilang at kalibliban, karaniwang sa lilim ng mga siit ng kawayang tinikan masusumpungan ang mga baging ng tugui. Karatig naman ng punong tugui ang pumpon ng buhong China sa aming bakuran. Para hindi naman maiwalay sa isa’t isa, maipagpatuloy ang kanilang nakagawiang tipanan sa pinagmulang dawag at kaparangan.
Ni hindi na nga hinukay para mailuto ang tugui sa bakuran—mas matiim ang kabusugan kapag nginunguya sa isipan ang nakalantad na mga pusong dahon, kumakaway sa haplos ng hangin habang lihim namang nagpapanday ng sapin-saping sundang sa kanyang ilalim habang nakikipagniig, sumisibasib sa paghahalughog ang mga ugat sa dibdib ng lupa.
Tugui ang nalabi sa mga alagang halamang-ugat—ipinaghukay ang biyenan ng ubi sa bakuran, titipak-tipakin ang may limang kilo marahil na lamang-ugat, saka ilalaga daw, igugumon sa asukal… hindi ganoon ang nakagisnang luto sa ubi. Mas masaya ang jalea.
Pero pawang malalaki na ang apat na alalay na anak sa paghahalukay ng nalulutong jalea. Ako lang ang paunti-unting magliligis ng mga nilagang tipak-ubi sa food processor. Itatambak ang naligis na bunton—3-4 na kilo-- sa kawa, sasamahan ng mga sangkap… ginadgad na balat ng 4-5 dayap… kakang-gata ng anim na niyog… dalawang lata ng gatas-kondensada… santaklob na panutsa… mga pinilas na dahon ng pandan… 500 gramo ng butter… at tagaktak ng pawis ng mga anak, edad-10 pa lang ang panganay sa apat na anak… halinhinan silang hahalukay ng nalulutong ubi sa kawa, gamit ang mahabang siyanse o samputol na sariwang palapa ng niyog. Nakalakihan nilang rituwal iyon bago magpasko.. 2-3 oras na parusa sa init ng apoy at sanghaya ng nalulutong jalea… tig-10 takal sila sa paghalukay.
Halos makalas ang bisig sa balikat sa inut-inot na halukay sa tumpok ng magiging jalea. Na kumukunat habang naluluto, lalong nagiging mahirap ang paghalukay… marami namang nakakatikim sa katas ng pawis ng apat na bata, ah, the ordeal of sorts was meant to pump up circular strength in the upper limbs and shoulders. Mostly imparting such strength in the body’s upper portion as groundwork to having firm but explosive power—the sort needed to unhinge limbs of an assailant with grace and ease.
Hindi na matiyak kung natatandaan ng mga kumag na anak ang mga sangkap sa jalea. Mahirap maghagilap sa ngayon ng dayap at panutsa. Mahirap ding mahagilap ang mga damuhong supling ngayong malalaki na’t iba na ang nakahiligan—sa ubi-gyne na nga nagsasadya ang babaeng anak, nanganganay.
Nagsipag-usbungan rin ang mga ubi nitong unang linggo ng Mayo. Kung saan-saan na naman susuling, susulong ang kani-kaniyang baging. Gagapang, tatabal. Magsisipagpugay sa araw. Lihim na magtitipon ng kilu-kilong laman sa kailaliman.
Lagi’t laging kakalkal sa lupa ng mga matamis na gunita sa pagluluto ng jalea… sa pagpanday… sa pag-iiwi… sa pag-iiwan ng tataglaying lakas ng mga supling sa kanilang paglaki… mula usbong ng ubi.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Bigwas ng anak, bagwis ng ama
Bigwas ng anak sa doodles11006@yahoo.com:
I WAS one of the lucky few, I guess, that never needed to go to the infamous Counter 45A of the DFA as I was assisted by your news hen friend who covers the department. The long line really did bother me, but nonetheless it was fast considering that it was my first time to get a passport. All you need are the documents pertinent to your application and that’s it. Fortunately I never got into any red tape. I would commend the DFA for not putting me thru that otherwise I would have laid the smack down on an official right there and then. “Our taxes are paying you guys to work for us."
I care to differ on the reasons why millions of Filipinos go overseas, it’s never to support the country heck... every expat here are here not ever for that reason; but it’s so bayani of them to be here. I’m not here for the country. I want a house and realize my dreams. It’s bullcrap to say that it’s for our country. Every expat here went for their families, for their dreams to materialize as there is no possible way of realizing those in the Philippines.
Unless if you have a position under the Executive and Legislative body in government or if you hit the lotto or if you’re with Customs... I saw a house of a Customs employee over at Loyola Grand Villas, would you believe that an ordinary Customs employee’s salary can build a P10-million house, five SUVs not included?
Patriotism is a sensitive matter and it’s not something any Filipino would brazenly be so proud of. Unless Pacman is involved.
It’s just sad that only a handful are still patriotic for a country riddled with garapalang corruption. Last time I had breakfast with Ninong Jerry, Waya--or was it Liwa?-- mentioned that your generation are the only ones who are still patriotic about this country. We of the current generation don’t give a shit because all that the government has offered for our generation since we were born and graduated are loads of shit.
Bagwis ng ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com:
BY some quaint reckoning of space-time (exact latitude and longitude plus prevailing time upon such patch of earth), it turned out that I was born into the caste of Brahmin, priest-kings of sorts at the topmost of a sociopolitical hierarchy devised by Aryans who settled the India’s Indus Valley ages back. The Brahmin are a notch higher than Ksathriya or warrior class. That may explain why I easily stumble into esoteric and eldritch secrets… something that destiny drives me to.
Destiny is called in the vernacular as tadhana. Na tahasang nagmula sa katagang Sanskrit, sadhana. Matinding disiplina ‘to, malupit kaysa sanlibong sit-ups araw-araw upang mapagpag ang bilbil at maging matatag ang sikmura. Matinding bidbid o bigkis sa daloy ng diwa’t isipan at tibok ng damdamin ang sadhana—na pinagmulan din ng katagang sidhi or intensity. But siddhi is an individual, one who attains intense powers of the mind thru the praxis of sadhana. In the 1980s film-maker George Lucas somehow gave movie fans an inkling of sadhana practice—those taking umbrage in the dark side of the force turn out as Sith while seekers of enlightenment become Jedi… fallen like our hopes for a better nation or soaring like current prices of commodities, they’re powerful spirits both in a material world.
I can still profess love for the country—but not for all of the Filipino people. I have settled for the simplest form of patriotism, pagmamahal at pagsisinop sa lupang hinahasikan ng mga punlang pananim. Sabihin mang kabilang na ako sa hanay ng mga babaylan na nakapag-uugnay sa mundo ng mga karaniwang tao at sa tahanan ng mga anito, batlaya’t kaluluwa, ayokong pangahasan na magsinop at mag-ukol ng pagtingin sa lahat ng Pilipino. Pili lang, higit na nakararami ang mga kupal at kumag. Kailangang maging makapili…
Consider. One of your uncles who regularly imports capital goods—mostly second-hand equipments for deep-sea fishing—has to cough up P20,000 to P40,000 a pop to facilitate release of such shipment from Customs. Your uncle is a devout Christian, ayaw na maging bahagi ng panunuhol at katiwalian na pinaiiral saanmang singit at sulok ng gobyerno. Pero ano’ng magagawa niya kung itetengga ng gobyerno ang mga kalakal na inangkat niya? Ayaw man, magbibigay na rin ng suhol and corruption prevails again and again.
Saka hindi naman ipinanganak na Brahmin ang uncle mo—para sakali’y masalinan ng pamamaraan ng tigalpo o death sentence na ibubuga lang sa kahit na sinong kumag at kupal. Para unti-unting mamatay, matuyot sa kung anong karamdaman. That’s transformation.
That sort of transformation in certain people neatly ties in with my pared-down notion of patriotism, or nurturing love for the soil. Humans turn to humus. Those who enrich themselves thru foul means can be done in. Killed off. They’re transformed to enrich the soil.
Mwa-ha-ha-haw!
I WAS one of the lucky few, I guess, that never needed to go to the infamous Counter 45A of the DFA as I was assisted by your news hen friend who covers the department. The long line really did bother me, but nonetheless it was fast considering that it was my first time to get a passport. All you need are the documents pertinent to your application and that’s it. Fortunately I never got into any red tape. I would commend the DFA for not putting me thru that otherwise I would have laid the smack down on an official right there and then. “Our taxes are paying you guys to work for us."
I care to differ on the reasons why millions of Filipinos go overseas, it’s never to support the country heck... every expat here are here not ever for that reason; but it’s so bayani of them to be here. I’m not here for the country. I want a house and realize my dreams. It’s bullcrap to say that it’s for our country. Every expat here went for their families, for their dreams to materialize as there is no possible way of realizing those in the Philippines.
Unless if you have a position under the Executive and Legislative body in government or if you hit the lotto or if you’re with Customs... I saw a house of a Customs employee over at Loyola Grand Villas, would you believe that an ordinary Customs employee’s salary can build a P10-million house, five SUVs not included?
Patriotism is a sensitive matter and it’s not something any Filipino would brazenly be so proud of. Unless Pacman is involved.
It’s just sad that only a handful are still patriotic for a country riddled with garapalang corruption. Last time I had breakfast with Ninong Jerry, Waya--or was it Liwa?-- mentioned that your generation are the only ones who are still patriotic about this country. We of the current generation don’t give a shit because all that the government has offered for our generation since we were born and graduated are loads of shit.
Bagwis ng ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com:
BY some quaint reckoning of space-time (exact latitude and longitude plus prevailing time upon such patch of earth), it turned out that I was born into the caste of Brahmin, priest-kings of sorts at the topmost of a sociopolitical hierarchy devised by Aryans who settled the India’s Indus Valley ages back. The Brahmin are a notch higher than Ksathriya or warrior class. That may explain why I easily stumble into esoteric and eldritch secrets… something that destiny drives me to.
Destiny is called in the vernacular as tadhana. Na tahasang nagmula sa katagang Sanskrit, sadhana. Matinding disiplina ‘to, malupit kaysa sanlibong sit-ups araw-araw upang mapagpag ang bilbil at maging matatag ang sikmura. Matinding bidbid o bigkis sa daloy ng diwa’t isipan at tibok ng damdamin ang sadhana—na pinagmulan din ng katagang sidhi or intensity. But siddhi is an individual, one who attains intense powers of the mind thru the praxis of sadhana. In the 1980s film-maker George Lucas somehow gave movie fans an inkling of sadhana practice—those taking umbrage in the dark side of the force turn out as Sith while seekers of enlightenment become Jedi… fallen like our hopes for a better nation or soaring like current prices of commodities, they’re powerful spirits both in a material world.
I can still profess love for the country—but not for all of the Filipino people. I have settled for the simplest form of patriotism, pagmamahal at pagsisinop sa lupang hinahasikan ng mga punlang pananim. Sabihin mang kabilang na ako sa hanay ng mga babaylan na nakapag-uugnay sa mundo ng mga karaniwang tao at sa tahanan ng mga anito, batlaya’t kaluluwa, ayokong pangahasan na magsinop at mag-ukol ng pagtingin sa lahat ng Pilipino. Pili lang, higit na nakararami ang mga kupal at kumag. Kailangang maging makapili…
Consider. One of your uncles who regularly imports capital goods—mostly second-hand equipments for deep-sea fishing—has to cough up P20,000 to P40,000 a pop to facilitate release of such shipment from Customs. Your uncle is a devout Christian, ayaw na maging bahagi ng panunuhol at katiwalian na pinaiiral saanmang singit at sulok ng gobyerno. Pero ano’ng magagawa niya kung itetengga ng gobyerno ang mga kalakal na inangkat niya? Ayaw man, magbibigay na rin ng suhol and corruption prevails again and again.
Saka hindi naman ipinanganak na Brahmin ang uncle mo—para sakali’y masalinan ng pamamaraan ng tigalpo o death sentence na ibubuga lang sa kahit na sinong kumag at kupal. Para unti-unting mamatay, matuyot sa kung anong karamdaman. That’s transformation.
That sort of transformation in certain people neatly ties in with my pared-down notion of patriotism, or nurturing love for the soil. Humans turn to humus. Those who enrich themselves thru foul means can be done in. Killed off. They’re transformed to enrich the soil.
Mwa-ha-ha-haw!
Muni at huni
Muni ng arkitektong anak sa doodles11006@yahoo.com
I HAVE never been really good at actually applying and mixing colors on a canvas and coming up with the color I really want, especially when I do interiors. You left me once in this art gallery when I was very young, I never knew where you actually went but I was guessing it was work-related, I was very enamored to see those artists do on the spot coloring, I tried my luck in doing some on an empty canvas a guy offered me but unfortunately I sucked. I have since had a hard time trying to get the correct hues. When I was studying I still sucked, a 2.0 in rendering means "needs improvement". Besides my strong point was with design itself, fortunately due to my short stint under Arch. Nannette Segovia's firm as a designer and as a project architect under V.V.Soliven then, I was able to solve the problem of colors. And I am applying it in my current sideline projects here.
My hired colleague got the surprise of his life when he saw me do an entire kitchen, living, dining and foyer within a few minutes using free hand perspective while at the same time discussing things we needed to consider for the client and the materials we would specify; he had a dumbfounded look saying that was very fast aside from amazing; I was able to relay what I was saying and immediately put it in print; he understood everything but asked me how I do it.
An architect from a firm that I applied a year ago or so called me up, asking if I was still free. They acquired my records via a resume that I submitted a long time ago on-line, I told him I’m sorry I was already abroad and he was already making a long distance call.. he politely said sorry and hung up immediately... Ako ang nabawasan ng load hindi siya, daya ng Globe kaka-load ko lang nun ha.
How are things back home? We see the news here on TV and it’s very alarming, the prices here went up also but not as outrageously high as what is happening there…tsk tsk.. If only they never took away the funds for agriculture then, the country wouldn't be in deep shit; not to mention proper regional and urban planning, wala rin naman kasing choice ‘yung mga farmers but to sell their lands to be converted into subdivisions eh. Filipinos are not yet open to condo living nor they can afford it. And what is this quote from the President saying that "going abroad will just be a matter of choice not necessity," is she crazy? Try not to give false hopes and just tell it as it is...a lot of us expats are very disappointed in how you ransacked our money and how the government runs things. I’m still surprised on how she is still there.
Huni ng kulamnistang ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com
HINDI ko matandaan kung Gallery Genesis sa Shaw Boulevard, Mandaluyong, Liongoren Gallery sa New York, Cubao o sa Vargas Gallery sa UP Diliman na pawang kumikikig pa rin sa sining o sa Philippine Arts Gallery (PAG) sa dulo ng Lantana, Cubao na tinamaan ng lintik, sunog lahat ng mga likhang sining na nakaimbak pati mga antigong mapa na pinaglalawayan ko noon; medium-rise condominium na ang nakatindig sa dating PAG. May mga naniniwala kasi na matalim ang tingin ko’t gagap ang mga sagisag at sigasig na nakalahad sa alinman sa pitong likhang sining—kasama na roon sa naniniwala sina Manuel Viray, naging ambassador sa Cambodia saka ang lumisan nang Mang Paking Arcellana, na National Artist for Literature. Ah, the most gargantuan try at toilet humor I’ve seen: the driveway ramp at the foreground of the Cultural Center of the Philippines that outlines the rim of a toilet bowl with the building façade as flush tank…
You and Angeli have been in the company of artists since toddling years, both of you chose the path of least resistance in your careers as, well, artists. Ako’y literary and martial artist daw. Malacañang’s current top transient is also an accomplished artist, kaya ganoon kung humirit. Confidence artist.
Government has upped from P12 a kilo to P17 its farm-gate price for palay. It means there’ll be no more P18.25 a kilo NFA rice—unless government continues subsidizing rice price and such subsidy to keep prices artistically surreal is usually wrenched raw off pockets of taxpayers like you and me.
Food expenditure is tops in every Filipino household and chomps from P34-P47 for every P100 spent to keep together body and soul. As the food staple breaches price ceilings, we’re expecting inflation to hit double figures, commodity prices to soar through the ozone layer, and economically minded opinion purveyors to wonder aloud how a confidence artist of an economist leads the nation like lambs to the slaughter.
Life’s a bit drab and dark in this neck of the woods; we’ll be seeing some more charnel hues in the Philippine horizon… and that’s how colors hereabouts are mixed on the canvas of reality, why, even the 2004 poll canvass got swished and swathed with tone colors of “Hello Garci.”
God bless and Godspeed to us all!
I HAVE never been really good at actually applying and mixing colors on a canvas and coming up with the color I really want, especially when I do interiors. You left me once in this art gallery when I was very young, I never knew where you actually went but I was guessing it was work-related, I was very enamored to see those artists do on the spot coloring, I tried my luck in doing some on an empty canvas a guy offered me but unfortunately I sucked. I have since had a hard time trying to get the correct hues. When I was studying I still sucked, a 2.0 in rendering means "needs improvement". Besides my strong point was with design itself, fortunately due to my short stint under Arch. Nannette Segovia's firm as a designer and as a project architect under V.V.Soliven then, I was able to solve the problem of colors. And I am applying it in my current sideline projects here.
My hired colleague got the surprise of his life when he saw me do an entire kitchen, living, dining and foyer within a few minutes using free hand perspective while at the same time discussing things we needed to consider for the client and the materials we would specify; he had a dumbfounded look saying that was very fast aside from amazing; I was able to relay what I was saying and immediately put it in print; he understood everything but asked me how I do it.
An architect from a firm that I applied a year ago or so called me up, asking if I was still free. They acquired my records via a resume that I submitted a long time ago on-line, I told him I’m sorry I was already abroad and he was already making a long distance call.. he politely said sorry and hung up immediately... Ako ang nabawasan ng load hindi siya, daya ng Globe kaka-load ko lang nun ha.
How are things back home? We see the news here on TV and it’s very alarming, the prices here went up also but not as outrageously high as what is happening there…tsk tsk.. If only they never took away the funds for agriculture then, the country wouldn't be in deep shit; not to mention proper regional and urban planning, wala rin naman kasing choice ‘yung mga farmers but to sell their lands to be converted into subdivisions eh. Filipinos are not yet open to condo living nor they can afford it. And what is this quote from the President saying that "going abroad will just be a matter of choice not necessity," is she crazy? Try not to give false hopes and just tell it as it is...a lot of us expats are very disappointed in how you ransacked our money and how the government runs things. I’m still surprised on how she is still there.
Huni ng kulamnistang ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com
HINDI ko matandaan kung Gallery Genesis sa Shaw Boulevard, Mandaluyong, Liongoren Gallery sa New York, Cubao o sa Vargas Gallery sa UP Diliman na pawang kumikikig pa rin sa sining o sa Philippine Arts Gallery (PAG) sa dulo ng Lantana, Cubao na tinamaan ng lintik, sunog lahat ng mga likhang sining na nakaimbak pati mga antigong mapa na pinaglalawayan ko noon; medium-rise condominium na ang nakatindig sa dating PAG. May mga naniniwala kasi na matalim ang tingin ko’t gagap ang mga sagisag at sigasig na nakalahad sa alinman sa pitong likhang sining—kasama na roon sa naniniwala sina Manuel Viray, naging ambassador sa Cambodia saka ang lumisan nang Mang Paking Arcellana, na National Artist for Literature. Ah, the most gargantuan try at toilet humor I’ve seen: the driveway ramp at the foreground of the Cultural Center of the Philippines that outlines the rim of a toilet bowl with the building façade as flush tank…
You and Angeli have been in the company of artists since toddling years, both of you chose the path of least resistance in your careers as, well, artists. Ako’y literary and martial artist daw. Malacañang’s current top transient is also an accomplished artist, kaya ganoon kung humirit. Confidence artist.
Government has upped from P12 a kilo to P17 its farm-gate price for palay. It means there’ll be no more P18.25 a kilo NFA rice—unless government continues subsidizing rice price and such subsidy to keep prices artistically surreal is usually wrenched raw off pockets of taxpayers like you and me.
Food expenditure is tops in every Filipino household and chomps from P34-P47 for every P100 spent to keep together body and soul. As the food staple breaches price ceilings, we’re expecting inflation to hit double figures, commodity prices to soar through the ozone layer, and economically minded opinion purveyors to wonder aloud how a confidence artist of an economist leads the nation like lambs to the slaughter.
Life’s a bit drab and dark in this neck of the woods; we’ll be seeing some more charnel hues in the Philippine horizon… and that’s how colors hereabouts are mixed on the canvas of reality, why, even the 2004 poll canvass got swished and swathed with tone colors of “Hello Garci.”
God bless and Godspeed to us all!
Friday, April 04, 2008
Kasal nina Podying at Raymond sa Marso 30
SULAT ng anak: "Bloody hell" was the very first reaction I got from George (a Brit). Nearly everybody at the office and the camp was just shocked and awed at my new look. I just had my hair shaved off revealing my pate... I looked quite macho and sexy as most of them reiterate. I did it because summer is approaching and besides tipid na din sa shampoo.. penance na rin for Holy Week and I wanted to look like Wentworth Miller of “Prison Break.” Bagay ba?
I nearly blew my temper again just this week as the cook I asked to buy me some two kilos of crabs wanted to buy10 kilos instead, my roommates and I are the only ones who will be eating it. He was suggesting I serve the entire Filipino camp... tutal naman malaki ang sinusweldo ko... I’m not a charity ball, I angrily replied... mga Pinoy nga naman, oo.
I called up Tita Tricia to greet her a belated happy birthday. I tried calling home thru Mama's phone but it’s always out of service. Tita reiterated that Irish and Bobby had already married... civil wedding; Mama was a sponsor. They'll be getting married at church when Tito Willy comes back home...she then nudged me on when will it be my turn... "No comment muna ako d’yan" I said.
Is Bonyat doing fine? We have an unofficial tenant underneath the roof of our quarters. I call her “Fat Tweet" the bird is fat...and a visitor which I dubbed "Three Colored Fat" a she-cat who has three colors and is well obese...but she's very malambing and she follows me around, greets me when I come back from work.
SULIT ng Kulamnistang ama: Idagdag pa si Podying at Raymond sa mga hahakbang pasagupa sa agos ng paghihiwalay ng mga mag-asawa sa bansa, sa Marso 30 sila ikakasal. Para yatang mas madaling maghiwalay kaysa magpisan sa panahong ito’t naghahagilap nga ng mga dahilan ang Simbahan para maipaliwanag ang ganitong alimuom. Baka pati isang batas sa thermodynamics ay maisangkalan; ukol sa entropy, a measure of chaos which applies to an isolated system in disequilibrium that increases over time and hits a peak as equilibrium is reached.
Kung ilalapat sa ugnayan ng mag-asawa ang ganitong batas, maiisip na hindi talaga patas, timbang o parehas ang ugnayan kahit sa simula. Tiyak na iigting lang ang hidwaan, iringan, at sigalot sa pagdaan ng panahon.
Sa mga away-musmos ko noon sa Pambuan, Gapan sa Nueva Ecija napulot ang katagang “magkapeso” o patas sa timbang ang magsasalpukan. Halaw sa Español ang peso o weight class. Mainam ngang namnamin sa isipan na kapag naging parehas o patas sa timbang ang magsasalpukan, magkapeso na— parang magaan na ang dating ng saganang salapi and I’d like to believe money is a form of chaotic energy. At umaatikabong salpukan din ang sinusuong sa kama, este, sa pag-aasawa, ‘di ba?
Debut naman sa Marso 29 ni Cynthia ng Tito Boyet at Tita Raquel mo, pinapagawa pa nga ako ng bibigkasing talumpati doon… isa sa mga bathaluman ng pagsasaka’t pagsisinop ng lupa si Cynthia na kapangalan ng isa sa mga idol ko, Kinatawan Cynthia Ampaya Aguilar-Villar ng Las Piñas na kumakasa kahit sa mga pakanang patakaran at masansang na makinasyon ng Malacañang. Nakakabilib.
Kamagong ang tawag noon sa ganyang gupit, ganoon kasi ang anyo ng bunga ng kamagong o mabolo, an endangered tree species which resounds to power and hardiness. Ganoon ang gupit ng mga sundalong isinagupa sa Bangsa Moro Army nitong mga taon ng 1970—at tila mga trosong tumimbuwang sa Mindanao combat zones noon. Kung hindi napugot ang ulo, nasira ang ulo. Pulos puno ng kamagong ang nasa tagiliran ng isang ward sa V. Luna Memorial Medical Center na pinaglalagakan ng mga kawal o beterano na may post traumatic stress syndrome, war shock.
Bonyat is out-and-out housebound Auslander tom, kahit masarap ang pagkain ng kapwa pusa, hindi makikipag-agawan. Katiting pa rin kung kumain. Medyo nabawasan yata ang kanyang predatory instincts, hindi na kasi sumisila ng mga mayang mamindita sa itaas ng bahay. Sabay namang malambing sumalubong at magkikiskis ng kanilang katawan sa ‘kin ang tutang Bitoy at pusang Bhatman.
Dish 10 kilos of crabs for a Filipino camp? Ayoko yata sa ganyan. One gets such affliction via sex with someone infected with crabs, mwa-ha-ha-ha-haw!
Current buzzword in this neck of the woods, “Trabaho, trabaho, trabaho; hindi gulo--ria arroyo.”
I nearly blew my temper again just this week as the cook I asked to buy me some two kilos of crabs wanted to buy10 kilos instead, my roommates and I are the only ones who will be eating it. He was suggesting I serve the entire Filipino camp... tutal naman malaki ang sinusweldo ko... I’m not a charity ball, I angrily replied... mga Pinoy nga naman, oo.
I called up Tita Tricia to greet her a belated happy birthday. I tried calling home thru Mama's phone but it’s always out of service. Tita reiterated that Irish and Bobby had already married... civil wedding; Mama was a sponsor. They'll be getting married at church when Tito Willy comes back home...she then nudged me on when will it be my turn... "No comment muna ako d’yan" I said.
Is Bonyat doing fine? We have an unofficial tenant underneath the roof of our quarters. I call her “Fat Tweet" the bird is fat...and a visitor which I dubbed "Three Colored Fat" a she-cat who has three colors and is well obese...but she's very malambing and she follows me around, greets me when I come back from work.
SULIT ng Kulamnistang ama: Idagdag pa si Podying at Raymond sa mga hahakbang pasagupa sa agos ng paghihiwalay ng mga mag-asawa sa bansa, sa Marso 30 sila ikakasal. Para yatang mas madaling maghiwalay kaysa magpisan sa panahong ito’t naghahagilap nga ng mga dahilan ang Simbahan para maipaliwanag ang ganitong alimuom. Baka pati isang batas sa thermodynamics ay maisangkalan; ukol sa entropy, a measure of chaos which applies to an isolated system in disequilibrium that increases over time and hits a peak as equilibrium is reached.
Kung ilalapat sa ugnayan ng mag-asawa ang ganitong batas, maiisip na hindi talaga patas, timbang o parehas ang ugnayan kahit sa simula. Tiyak na iigting lang ang hidwaan, iringan, at sigalot sa pagdaan ng panahon.
Sa mga away-musmos ko noon sa Pambuan, Gapan sa Nueva Ecija napulot ang katagang “magkapeso” o patas sa timbang ang magsasalpukan. Halaw sa Español ang peso o weight class. Mainam ngang namnamin sa isipan na kapag naging parehas o patas sa timbang ang magsasalpukan, magkapeso na— parang magaan na ang dating ng saganang salapi and I’d like to believe money is a form of chaotic energy. At umaatikabong salpukan din ang sinusuong sa kama, este, sa pag-aasawa, ‘di ba?
Debut naman sa Marso 29 ni Cynthia ng Tito Boyet at Tita Raquel mo, pinapagawa pa nga ako ng bibigkasing talumpati doon… isa sa mga bathaluman ng pagsasaka’t pagsisinop ng lupa si Cynthia na kapangalan ng isa sa mga idol ko, Kinatawan Cynthia Ampaya Aguilar-Villar ng Las Piñas na kumakasa kahit sa mga pakanang patakaran at masansang na makinasyon ng Malacañang. Nakakabilib.
Kamagong ang tawag noon sa ganyang gupit, ganoon kasi ang anyo ng bunga ng kamagong o mabolo, an endangered tree species which resounds to power and hardiness. Ganoon ang gupit ng mga sundalong isinagupa sa Bangsa Moro Army nitong mga taon ng 1970—at tila mga trosong tumimbuwang sa Mindanao combat zones noon. Kung hindi napugot ang ulo, nasira ang ulo. Pulos puno ng kamagong ang nasa tagiliran ng isang ward sa V. Luna Memorial Medical Center na pinaglalagakan ng mga kawal o beterano na may post traumatic stress syndrome, war shock.
Bonyat is out-and-out housebound Auslander tom, kahit masarap ang pagkain ng kapwa pusa, hindi makikipag-agawan. Katiting pa rin kung kumain. Medyo nabawasan yata ang kanyang predatory instincts, hindi na kasi sumisila ng mga mayang mamindita sa itaas ng bahay. Sabay namang malambing sumalubong at magkikiskis ng kanilang katawan sa ‘kin ang tutang Bitoy at pusang Bhatman.
Dish 10 kilos of crabs for a Filipino camp? Ayoko yata sa ganyan. One gets such affliction via sex with someone infected with crabs, mwa-ha-ha-ha-haw!
Current buzzword in this neck of the woods, “Trabaho, trabaho, trabaho; hindi gulo--ria arroyo.”
Salaysay at saluysoy
Salaysay ng anak sa doodles11006@yahoo.com:
HERE are pics of yesterday's occasion. I cooked for my bwisitas on my birthday; they loved my cooking, naubos yung hinanda ko. First time daw sila nakakain ng pagkaing tao; I was supposed to cook something new but I lacked the ingredients so basic na lang ang hinanda ko.
I saw Angeli's pictures, they are nice pero bakit malabo 'ata yung ibang kuha? Mama still looks radiant hindi pa rin halatang old unlike you ha-ha. Angeli's gown is very formal... napaka-serious naman ng suot niya, parang di ako sanay na makita siyang formal... pero nice dress ha. I noticed the tummy though, it's bulging and she looks, well, fat... So Raymond's hair has grown, most of the pictures I saw of him in Angeli's Friendster profile he's clean shaven... he looks big in his barong or is he big?
Saluysoy ng ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com:
Pasta and fruit salad, madali ngang lutuin—pero mas matindi if tomato paste was sauce base stirred in with 2-3 fistfuls of fresh basil, two cups of minced celery, dashes of oregano, 2-3 cups minced garlic and 3-5 cups of crab roe (aligi ng talangka). I’m glad you’ve easily taken to cookery which, like enduring love, must be plunged into with endearing passion.
Baka manghilakbot ka kapag nakita mo si Angeli playing monster twin to Judy Ann Santos in an upcoming Regal horror film.
Raymond was looking good—and he’s really that big while his bride Angeli, well, she does eat with much gusto calories are setting up a bivouac at her waistline. Raymond’s father is an amiable fellow, we hit it off first time we chatted up over whiskey toasts to the newlyweds. Summer’s blowtorch spell paused for a heavy downpour on Raymond-Angeli’s nuptials, why, we took that as a blessed sign from the heavens for the union. Ah, marriages are also a union of families, even Raymond’s grandmother shared earnest pleasantries with me—talagang tumatanda na ‘ko.
Sure, your mom’s radiant as ever while the old looks become my self. The years like a frontiers man’s axe have hewn me much, I ought to hurl new marching orders to the cell colonies on my face to ease up their rough edges and shine like crazy diamonds, twinkle like suns. Easy does it. As a long line of masters before me have it, there is a continuum which links all living things together so that the smallest cell does not pulsate without its effects being felt in the furthest reaches of space.
And I won’t need buckets of Glutathione, Metathione, or Malathion shot-fed into my bloodstream to reach such physical results.
Napasobra ang higpit ng salpak sa dugtungan ng isang metal tent pole last All Souls Day and none of those gathered before your Lolo Dominador Gomez’s burial site could wring the poles apart, so I asked your uncle Boyet to grip an end of the pole while I wring the other end—umikot pati siya nang pihitin ko’t paghiwalayin ang pinagdugtong na tubo, ang lakas ko raw pala. Hanggang sa kabundukan ng Montalban, ganoon pa rin ang naging papel ko—tagabukas ng takip-garapon at mahigpit na takip ng soft drink…
Ganoon yata ang tumatanda. Mas mahigpit na ang gagap sa maraming bagay-bagay. Or I must have learned much grasping at or getting a grip on all those loads of lessons I’ve been lucky to be dealt and blessed with over the years. Saka ‘yon nga: the hideous knot of strength that can be unleashed through the wrist comes from constant praxis of circular strength training and rhythmic breathing. Wuyiquan. Qi gong. Orientals know a thing or two about wringing secrets out of Mother Nature.
A few avid readers are telling me the tidbits of know-how and some plied out in this column has become more accessible to them with our correspondence, so keep the electronic mails coming—whether or not there’s generous foreplay or incessant digital dawdling of G-spots.
God bless, Godspeed!
HERE are pics of yesterday's occasion. I cooked for my bwisitas on my birthday; they loved my cooking, naubos yung hinanda ko. First time daw sila nakakain ng pagkaing tao; I was supposed to cook something new but I lacked the ingredients so basic na lang ang hinanda ko.
I saw Angeli's pictures, they are nice pero bakit malabo 'ata yung ibang kuha? Mama still looks radiant hindi pa rin halatang old unlike you ha-ha. Angeli's gown is very formal... napaka-serious naman ng suot niya, parang di ako sanay na makita siyang formal... pero nice dress ha. I noticed the tummy though, it's bulging and she looks, well, fat... So Raymond's hair has grown, most of the pictures I saw of him in Angeli's Friendster profile he's clean shaven... he looks big in his barong or is he big?
Saluysoy ng ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com:
Pasta and fruit salad, madali ngang lutuin—pero mas matindi if tomato paste was sauce base stirred in with 2-3 fistfuls of fresh basil, two cups of minced celery, dashes of oregano, 2-3 cups minced garlic and 3-5 cups of crab roe (aligi ng talangka). I’m glad you’ve easily taken to cookery which, like enduring love, must be plunged into with endearing passion.
Baka manghilakbot ka kapag nakita mo si Angeli playing monster twin to Judy Ann Santos in an upcoming Regal horror film.
Raymond was looking good—and he’s really that big while his bride Angeli, well, she does eat with much gusto calories are setting up a bivouac at her waistline. Raymond’s father is an amiable fellow, we hit it off first time we chatted up over whiskey toasts to the newlyweds. Summer’s blowtorch spell paused for a heavy downpour on Raymond-Angeli’s nuptials, why, we took that as a blessed sign from the heavens for the union. Ah, marriages are also a union of families, even Raymond’s grandmother shared earnest pleasantries with me—talagang tumatanda na ‘ko.
Sure, your mom’s radiant as ever while the old looks become my self. The years like a frontiers man’s axe have hewn me much, I ought to hurl new marching orders to the cell colonies on my face to ease up their rough edges and shine like crazy diamonds, twinkle like suns. Easy does it. As a long line of masters before me have it, there is a continuum which links all living things together so that the smallest cell does not pulsate without its effects being felt in the furthest reaches of space.
And I won’t need buckets of Glutathione, Metathione, or Malathion shot-fed into my bloodstream to reach such physical results.
Napasobra ang higpit ng salpak sa dugtungan ng isang metal tent pole last All Souls Day and none of those gathered before your Lolo Dominador Gomez’s burial site could wring the poles apart, so I asked your uncle Boyet to grip an end of the pole while I wring the other end—umikot pati siya nang pihitin ko’t paghiwalayin ang pinagdugtong na tubo, ang lakas ko raw pala. Hanggang sa kabundukan ng Montalban, ganoon pa rin ang naging papel ko—tagabukas ng takip-garapon at mahigpit na takip ng soft drink…
Ganoon yata ang tumatanda. Mas mahigpit na ang gagap sa maraming bagay-bagay. Or I must have learned much grasping at or getting a grip on all those loads of lessons I’ve been lucky to be dealt and blessed with over the years. Saka ‘yon nga: the hideous knot of strength that can be unleashed through the wrist comes from constant praxis of circular strength training and rhythmic breathing. Wuyiquan. Qi gong. Orientals know a thing or two about wringing secrets out of Mother Nature.
A few avid readers are telling me the tidbits of know-how and some plied out in this column has become more accessible to them with our correspondence, so keep the electronic mails coming—whether or not there’s generous foreplay or incessant digital dawdling of G-spots.
God bless, Godspeed!
Kuwento ang anak, kuwenta ng ama
Kuwento ng anak mula doodles11006@yahoo.com:
BEEN very busy lately, I had a hard time trying to understand which pipes are critical for making the plant work and which one needs to be inspected. I nearly lost my Aramco ID card somewhere in Tanajib plants, I could not remember if I dropped it somewhere over at the exchangers on the top of the platform... this is equivalent to 6 stories, or if I left it somewhere over at the desalters. Luckily somebody found it... penalty for losing it is 500 Saudi riyals...can afford but I don’t want to afford…kuripot ‘ko talaga.
I have sidelines here left and right, this time pertaining to architecture; I was blessed enough to acquire design jobs when they found out I know design (they saw my resume and tried me out, they liked my work), I gained a Filipino client who wants his house in Batangas to be renovated; served as a design consultant for my supervisor’s mansion that he is building for his family, he has again asked for my services for an entire interior design package. If everything goes well with another client I would regularly be acquiring design jobs related to architectural and structural works...problem is, I have to also address my job as the inspection coordinator for my unit.
I decided to bring in help from my fellow expats working over as draftsmen at the Design and Engineering unit where I was originally assigned prior to being promoted to this position. Unfortunately... they don’t know that much about design; I am not a very patient teacher to be frank, but for the sake of raking in extra money for them and me, I have to teach them what they need to know about designing...so I am officially serving as a design architect, they submit sketches, I discuss it, they encode it... I also get to do design myself too.
I may be busy again for quite a while because of these new commitments...but I find it fun and a whole new adventure… especially with what I love, hopefully it would boost my chances of gaining more knowledge and become at least one of the best in my field.
How is my Bonyat doing? I saw your pictures. You’re very dark...you should really watch your health there.. Especially your nicotine intake. You’re not as youthful anymore. Mama too. I'll have some vitamins for you be sent there one of these days.
Kuwenta ng ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com:
YOUR great, great grandmother on my mom’s side, one Fernanda Diaz Liwag who’s a next of kin to the late educator and senator Juan Liwag, why, she did Sulipeña cooking about five times a day using fuel wood which emits tons of dioxins and carbon dioxide that’s murderous to one’s health. Every cooking episode equals an intake, as 1990 World Health Organization figures have it, of 20 packs of cigarettes. That’s 100 packs of cigarettes a day for her. And all such cooking must have mummified her sturdy body; she breathed her last in myocardial infarction nearly breaching the 120-year lifespan of healthy human cells kept under laboratory conditions. How she did that beats me pero natitiyak kong naambunan niya ako ng hilig sa pagluluto’t paninigarilyo—and I’ve got more than half a century to go.
Uh-oh, must be the gun-smoke and cordite of skirmishes in us—she was in the armed resistance against the Japanese during WWII so much like a katoto Willy Baun—that affords us to go through the perils of smoking. Or it’s all in that passion for slow cookery with fuel-wood in communion with the gods of hearth, there’s not much lethal homespun cooking done these days of fastfood.
The snapshot I sent you was taken after a four-hour trudge through the innermost bucolic parts of Montalban, Rizal while getting broiled under a summer sun. Metro Manila and suburban areas sizzle at a few points below the 37-degree Celsius human body temperature while it’s typical typhoid feverish up Cagayan Valley at upwards 40 degrees C. So I turned up well-done over. Tall, dark, and loath-some. Takip-silim na’t nagbabarog pa nga ng palay sa lusong para may maisaing kami sa hapunan noon.
I’ve done something new throughout that trudge, allowed my heart and an energy center at the base of the spine to do chanting of Islamic and Buddhist orisons. Nagagawa pala ang ganoon. Kaibang ginhawa ang pakiramdam sa katawan—kahit na nagkalintos-lintos sa init ng buhangin ang aking kaliwang talampakan sa napakahabang lakad.
I remember that you packed an entire auditorium in defense of your thesis-design for an international airport—and you had to borrow and wear my calf leather Polo for the confident feel of stepping into my shoes for such a learning/teaching session. As the masters would have it, one has to learn going through the 108 movements of taijiquan before proceeding to do hours of walking meditation, or being keenly aware of the entire movement of body parts as one walks. Ah, to really feel and be at home with one’s body no matter the twists and turns of iremi. Sa ganoon napupudpod ang mga sapatos ko, and you have to step into them at times.
Marami namang masusulatan at mahahagip ding kayod sa pagsusulat dito sa Pilipinas—pero they’re pretty scared of someone who packs I.Q. 160 in him that’s merely twice the brain capacity of most rapist convicts and idiots. Pero natutuwa ako’t natutulungan mo ang kapwa Pilipino para madagdagan ang kita’t maipakita rin ang kanilang kakayahan.
Cool Auslander cat Bonyat’s as ever blessed as we are, Godspeed!
BEEN very busy lately, I had a hard time trying to understand which pipes are critical for making the plant work and which one needs to be inspected. I nearly lost my Aramco ID card somewhere in Tanajib plants, I could not remember if I dropped it somewhere over at the exchangers on the top of the platform... this is equivalent to 6 stories, or if I left it somewhere over at the desalters. Luckily somebody found it... penalty for losing it is 500 Saudi riyals...can afford but I don’t want to afford…kuripot ‘ko talaga.
I have sidelines here left and right, this time pertaining to architecture; I was blessed enough to acquire design jobs when they found out I know design (they saw my resume and tried me out, they liked my work), I gained a Filipino client who wants his house in Batangas to be renovated; served as a design consultant for my supervisor’s mansion that he is building for his family, he has again asked for my services for an entire interior design package. If everything goes well with another client I would regularly be acquiring design jobs related to architectural and structural works...problem is, I have to also address my job as the inspection coordinator for my unit.
I decided to bring in help from my fellow expats working over as draftsmen at the Design and Engineering unit where I was originally assigned prior to being promoted to this position. Unfortunately... they don’t know that much about design; I am not a very patient teacher to be frank, but for the sake of raking in extra money for them and me, I have to teach them what they need to know about designing...so I am officially serving as a design architect, they submit sketches, I discuss it, they encode it... I also get to do design myself too.
I may be busy again for quite a while because of these new commitments...but I find it fun and a whole new adventure… especially with what I love, hopefully it would boost my chances of gaining more knowledge and become at least one of the best in my field.
How is my Bonyat doing? I saw your pictures. You’re very dark...you should really watch your health there.. Especially your nicotine intake. You’re not as youthful anymore. Mama too. I'll have some vitamins for you be sent there one of these days.
Kuwenta ng ama sa noqualmasabomb@yahoo.com:
YOUR great, great grandmother on my mom’s side, one Fernanda Diaz Liwag who’s a next of kin to the late educator and senator Juan Liwag, why, she did Sulipeña cooking about five times a day using fuel wood which emits tons of dioxins and carbon dioxide that’s murderous to one’s health. Every cooking episode equals an intake, as 1990 World Health Organization figures have it, of 20 packs of cigarettes. That’s 100 packs of cigarettes a day for her. And all such cooking must have mummified her sturdy body; she breathed her last in myocardial infarction nearly breaching the 120-year lifespan of healthy human cells kept under laboratory conditions. How she did that beats me pero natitiyak kong naambunan niya ako ng hilig sa pagluluto’t paninigarilyo—and I’ve got more than half a century to go.
Uh-oh, must be the gun-smoke and cordite of skirmishes in us—she was in the armed resistance against the Japanese during WWII so much like a katoto Willy Baun—that affords us to go through the perils of smoking. Or it’s all in that passion for slow cookery with fuel-wood in communion with the gods of hearth, there’s not much lethal homespun cooking done these days of fastfood.
The snapshot I sent you was taken after a four-hour trudge through the innermost bucolic parts of Montalban, Rizal while getting broiled under a summer sun. Metro Manila and suburban areas sizzle at a few points below the 37-degree Celsius human body temperature while it’s typical typhoid feverish up Cagayan Valley at upwards 40 degrees C. So I turned up well-done over. Tall, dark, and loath-some. Takip-silim na’t nagbabarog pa nga ng palay sa lusong para may maisaing kami sa hapunan noon.
I’ve done something new throughout that trudge, allowed my heart and an energy center at the base of the spine to do chanting of Islamic and Buddhist orisons. Nagagawa pala ang ganoon. Kaibang ginhawa ang pakiramdam sa katawan—kahit na nagkalintos-lintos sa init ng buhangin ang aking kaliwang talampakan sa napakahabang lakad.
I remember that you packed an entire auditorium in defense of your thesis-design for an international airport—and you had to borrow and wear my calf leather Polo for the confident feel of stepping into my shoes for such a learning/teaching session. As the masters would have it, one has to learn going through the 108 movements of taijiquan before proceeding to do hours of walking meditation, or being keenly aware of the entire movement of body parts as one walks. Ah, to really feel and be at home with one’s body no matter the twists and turns of iremi. Sa ganoon napupudpod ang mga sapatos ko, and you have to step into them at times.
Marami namang masusulatan at mahahagip ding kayod sa pagsusulat dito sa Pilipinas—pero they’re pretty scared of someone who packs I.Q. 160 in him that’s merely twice the brain capacity of most rapist convicts and idiots. Pero natutuwa ako’t natutulungan mo ang kapwa Pilipino para madagdagan ang kita’t maipakita rin ang kanilang kakayahan.
Cool Auslander cat Bonyat’s as ever blessed as we are, Godspeed!
Wala na raw peryodiko sa media
HINDI na pala kabilang sa news media ang turing sa gaya naming peryodista’t nakasupalpal sa pahayagang papel ang nasusulat—kasi nga’y pumapalo pala sa 75% ng populasyon ang sumasagap ng bali-balita’t kung anumang alimuom at singaw mula susong salamin. Susong salamin, kristal na kuhol, boob tube, idiot box, TV.
Mura kasi kaysa peryodiko na sapul nitong mga taon ng dekada 1970 hanggang sa kasalukuyan, nakapako pa rin sa may 2 milyon ang pinagsanib na mga sipi sa araw-araw. Sandamukal na ang mga free TV stations, meron pang cable TV. Wala pang kahirap-hirap ang kukote para himayin pa’t maglimi sa anumang alingasngas at alingasaw na masusupsop sa naturang suso.
Hindi naman aalma ang mga tulad kong pusakal sa pagsusulat, kahit hindi namin mawawaan ang kanilang pamamaraan sa pagbuo ng pangungusap at balarila ng bakla. Kahit naisantabi na kami’t mas nakakagiliwang mapuntirya’t tugisin ng tingga ng mga nasagasaang asungot at kumag sa lipunan ng our penis, oops, computer keyboard is mightier than the remote.
Unreeling images purvey plain sights; the stacked-up paragraphs fueled by witty turns of phrases and word jabs may offer insights. So there’s no need to reinvent the writing craft, the process of thinking in print with a view to haul in a fresh batch of readers. To write is to be at war, payo nga ni Voltaire, at nakasanayan na ring magpalipat-lipat o maglunoy-lublob sa foxhole, pati sa watering hole, at katakam-takam na womanhole.
Saka P4 sangkilo ng diyaryo—may pakinabang pa rin mas mahusay kaysa plastik na pambalot ng tinapa sa palengke matapos pagsawaang basahin. Maisasalin pa sa ibang mambabasa’t maikukumot pa nga ng mga natutulog sa bangketa.
Saka magaan pa rin sa mata ang paghagod ng mga titik na kikikig hanggang sa mga sulok na silid ng ulirat. Hindi pa maingay ang nakalimbag na mga kataga—hindi mambubulahaw ng mga nasa kahanggang bahay.
People watching TV feel relaxed and passive, "show less mental stimulation, as measured by alpha brain-wave production, during viewing than during reading." Ganoon ang ulat nitong Pebrero 2002 sa Scientific American—na kahit nilumot na nga sa luma, mahahalungkat pa rin dahil mas matindi pa rin ang pinakamapusyaw na tintang inilapat sa papel kaysa pinakamatalas na memorya.
Dagdag pa ng ulat: “What is more surprising is that the sense of relaxation ends when the set is turned off, but the feelings of passivity and lowered alertness continue. Survey participants commonly reflect that television has somehow absorbed or sucked out their energy, leaving them depleted. They say they have more difficulty concentrating after viewing than before. In contrast, they rarely indicate such difficulty after reading. After playing sports or engaging in hobbies, people report improvements in mood. After watching TV, people's moods are about the same or worse than before.”
Iginiit pa na “viewers tend to watch more television than they had planned to, even though the longer they watch, the less satisfaction they report. The researchers ascribe TV's attractive power in part to the ‘orienting response.’ This is ‘our instinctive visual or auditory reaction to any sudden or novel stimulus,’ and it includes dilation of blood vessels to the brain, slowed heart, and constriction of blood vessels to major muscle groups, all while attention is focused on information-gathering. So the cuts, zooms, pans, and sudden noises so typical of television presentation serve to keep the orienting response continuously engaged. (However, more than ten cuts in a two-minute period result in reduced accuracy of recall.)”
“Television Addiction” ang pamagat ng naturang ulat nina Robert Kubey at Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Mabuti na lang, hindi pa kami talamak sa pagiging sugapa sa pagsupsop sa salaming suso—wala kasing katas o gatas na maitaktak.
Ganoon man, tiklop na talaga kaming diyarista sa telebisyon. Nito ngang huling coverage, nagpakilala na lang ako bilang agronomist na may konting nalalaman sa biological weapons development at kakayahan sa mahusay na produksiyon ng pagkaing butil. Yeah, still with the press o pindot na katugma’t katunog ng hindot.
At pusakal pa rin sa pagsusulat.
Mura kasi kaysa peryodiko na sapul nitong mga taon ng dekada 1970 hanggang sa kasalukuyan, nakapako pa rin sa may 2 milyon ang pinagsanib na mga sipi sa araw-araw. Sandamukal na ang mga free TV stations, meron pang cable TV. Wala pang kahirap-hirap ang kukote para himayin pa’t maglimi sa anumang alingasngas at alingasaw na masusupsop sa naturang suso.
Hindi naman aalma ang mga tulad kong pusakal sa pagsusulat, kahit hindi namin mawawaan ang kanilang pamamaraan sa pagbuo ng pangungusap at balarila ng bakla. Kahit naisantabi na kami’t mas nakakagiliwang mapuntirya’t tugisin ng tingga ng mga nasagasaang asungot at kumag sa lipunan ng our penis, oops, computer keyboard is mightier than the remote.
Unreeling images purvey plain sights; the stacked-up paragraphs fueled by witty turns of phrases and word jabs may offer insights. So there’s no need to reinvent the writing craft, the process of thinking in print with a view to haul in a fresh batch of readers. To write is to be at war, payo nga ni Voltaire, at nakasanayan na ring magpalipat-lipat o maglunoy-lublob sa foxhole, pati sa watering hole, at katakam-takam na womanhole.
Saka P4 sangkilo ng diyaryo—may pakinabang pa rin mas mahusay kaysa plastik na pambalot ng tinapa sa palengke matapos pagsawaang basahin. Maisasalin pa sa ibang mambabasa’t maikukumot pa nga ng mga natutulog sa bangketa.
Saka magaan pa rin sa mata ang paghagod ng mga titik na kikikig hanggang sa mga sulok na silid ng ulirat. Hindi pa maingay ang nakalimbag na mga kataga—hindi mambubulahaw ng mga nasa kahanggang bahay.
People watching TV feel relaxed and passive, "show less mental stimulation, as measured by alpha brain-wave production, during viewing than during reading." Ganoon ang ulat nitong Pebrero 2002 sa Scientific American—na kahit nilumot na nga sa luma, mahahalungkat pa rin dahil mas matindi pa rin ang pinakamapusyaw na tintang inilapat sa papel kaysa pinakamatalas na memorya.
Dagdag pa ng ulat: “What is more surprising is that the sense of relaxation ends when the set is turned off, but the feelings of passivity and lowered alertness continue. Survey participants commonly reflect that television has somehow absorbed or sucked out their energy, leaving them depleted. They say they have more difficulty concentrating after viewing than before. In contrast, they rarely indicate such difficulty after reading. After playing sports or engaging in hobbies, people report improvements in mood. After watching TV, people's moods are about the same or worse than before.”
Iginiit pa na “viewers tend to watch more television than they had planned to, even though the longer they watch, the less satisfaction they report. The researchers ascribe TV's attractive power in part to the ‘orienting response.’ This is ‘our instinctive visual or auditory reaction to any sudden or novel stimulus,’ and it includes dilation of blood vessels to the brain, slowed heart, and constriction of blood vessels to major muscle groups, all while attention is focused on information-gathering. So the cuts, zooms, pans, and sudden noises so typical of television presentation serve to keep the orienting response continuously engaged. (However, more than ten cuts in a two-minute period result in reduced accuracy of recall.)”
“Television Addiction” ang pamagat ng naturang ulat nina Robert Kubey at Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. Mabuti na lang, hindi pa kami talamak sa pagiging sugapa sa pagsupsop sa salaming suso—wala kasing katas o gatas na maitaktak.
Ganoon man, tiklop na talaga kaming diyarista sa telebisyon. Nito ngang huling coverage, nagpakilala na lang ako bilang agronomist na may konting nalalaman sa biological weapons development at kakayahan sa mahusay na produksiyon ng pagkaing butil. Yeah, still with the press o pindot na katugma’t katunog ng hindot.
At pusakal pa rin sa pagsusulat.
Manioc for maniacs
HINDI pa masyadong dumadagundong ang lutong ng corncharon at kornik noon kaya de latang kanin pa rin ang nilalantakan ng mga naiipit sa combat zone. Kailangan pang tungkabin ng abrelata o bayoneta, paano na maituturing na comfort food ang bahaw sa lata? Kung sa pagpatrulya’y may baon mang bigas at kaldero, kulang ang tatlong canteen ng tubig panghugas-bigas—at may yugto sa giyera noon na magpaparingas ka pa lang ng gatong sa isasaing, tinutunton at buhos-ulan ang bala sa pagmumulan ng usok sa pagluluto. Uusok sa ngitngit at ubos na tutong ang gutom na kawal.
Iba ang nakagisnan sa pagkain ng mga kasagupa. Mga ginayat na tipak ng kamoteng kahoy o balinghoy—cassava, tapioca or manioc in English, manioc for a maniac. Taajil ang tawag sa kanila. Tinayantang sa araw, nauulanan minsan tutubuan pa nga ng amag at lactic acid bacteria na pampadagdag sa protina, sustansiya’t lasa—gawgaw o clothes starch lang talaga ang mapipigang laman sa balinghoy. Nangingitim ang kulay. Ganoon ang kanilang K-ration. Na kahit sa gitna ng umaatikabong ratratan, dudukutin lang sa lukbutan, makakain kahit hilaw ang taajil. Busog ang kalaban, gutom naman kami—‘tangnang giyera ‘yan.
Masisimsim din naman ang essence of manioc sa Ginebra Capitan ng chemical engineer-turned-taipan Lucio Tan, pati na sa nakamulatang marka demonyo na alkohol mula katas ng balinghoy ang naging pangunahing sangkap sapul nitong mga taon ng 1980 nang mapahusay na ang alcohol extraction process mula sa naturang lamang-ugat. At nakagiliwan na nga namin ng katotong Catalino Alano ng Gumamela sa Balayan, Batangas ang inuming may essence of manioc for the likes of us who are sex maniacs.
Sinaing na kisa o pinaghalong durog na mais at bigas ang katapat sa ulam na karne’t gulay—lalo na sa balbakwa, a spicy stew of ox face, feet, tendons, and ligaments. Magulo ang timpla ng kisa. May ibig na dalawang takal na bigas bawat tatlo ng mais; merong 3 bigas:2 mais; o 4 bigas:1 mais or vice versa. Mas tumatalab at mahilab sa tiyan ang pulos mais na lang.
Pero sa mga siyudad ng Cagayan de Oro’t Cebu lang makakahagilap sa palengke ng mainam na mais na makikisa—o baka naman pahiwatig ng umaalingawngaw sa pandinig na pantig niyong salita na napakasarap yatang papakin. Makikisa… Saan? Sa Metro Manila? Patuka sa manok at palablab sa baboy ang mabibiling durog na mais, thoroughly infested with weevils, those wee bugs swimming in the grits na baka pasaring naman sa gobyerno’t Malacañang similarly infested with both humongous and wee evils.
Meron din daw kasing baboy na nakasandal sa Malacañang na kapural sa pagpupuslit ng angkat na bigas—aangkat ng tone-tonelada para kuno sa National Food Authority pero isasalya pala sa commercial rice traders ang inangkat. Oryza sativa-tiba talaga ang pasok ng milyones sa bulsa ng baboy na ‘yon.
Pantapat naman sa pagkaing-dagat o seafood (kasama na yata sa kataguriang ito ng pagkain pati si Marimar na mahilig maglunoy sa dagat) ang mga sapak na tipak ng taajil—o kahit mga umuusok na piraso ng nilaga, inihaw o binanging balinghoy. Matingkad ang hagod-gawgaw sa dila ng kamoteng kahoy na kapag sinundan, halimbawa lang, ng ilang pirasong laman ng alupihang dagat or mantis shrimp for you discriminating gourmets and lap-it-all-up gourmands, parang nagtagpo ang alat-alon ng dagat sa matamis na dalampasigan. Ah, the dulcet brine in seafood rounds out sweetish starch taste of cassava. Pero mahirap nang makahagilap ng alupihang dagat sa mga pamilihan sa Metro Manila and you’ll likely find this seafood delicacy in high-end Chinese restaurants, mantis shrimps still held hostage in recycled one-liter plastic bottles in which they’re pellet-fed and fattened, their meat no longer as stringy or lecherously luscious as their predatory free-roaming kind in the bowels of our seas.
Atsarang guso o seaweed ang panterno ng taga-Cebu sa nilagang kamoteng baging, paghaharap pa rin sa hapag at pagtatalisuyo sa sikmura ng kalamnan sa pusod ng tabsing at nilalaman sa dibdib ng lupa. Sabihin man na ang kamote’y food for utot, sagana naman ang talbos-kamote sa iron, phosphorous, folate, and fiber at pampalakas sa nasalanta ng dengue.
Hindi naman kasi maituturing na pangunahing pagkaing butil kahit na katigbi—or Job’s tears for you Sunday school kids and it has better quality starch and more nutrients than rice— dahil nakagiliwan nga ng may 2.5 bilyon sa populasyon ng daigdig ang pagkain ng kanin. Pinipilit na ngang masalinan ng kahit iron at salpakan ng katiting na protina ang genetically modified rice seedlings—para hindi pulos glucose lang ang taglay nito.
Oryza sativa nga pala ang tawag ng botanists sa palay na damo rin kaya nahihilo kami hanggang ngayon. Para maiugnay ito sa damo rin naman kung ituring na Cannabis sativa.
Iba ang nakagisnan sa pagkain ng mga kasagupa. Mga ginayat na tipak ng kamoteng kahoy o balinghoy—cassava, tapioca or manioc in English, manioc for a maniac. Taajil ang tawag sa kanila. Tinayantang sa araw, nauulanan minsan tutubuan pa nga ng amag at lactic acid bacteria na pampadagdag sa protina, sustansiya’t lasa—gawgaw o clothes starch lang talaga ang mapipigang laman sa balinghoy. Nangingitim ang kulay. Ganoon ang kanilang K-ration. Na kahit sa gitna ng umaatikabong ratratan, dudukutin lang sa lukbutan, makakain kahit hilaw ang taajil. Busog ang kalaban, gutom naman kami—‘tangnang giyera ‘yan.
Masisimsim din naman ang essence of manioc sa Ginebra Capitan ng chemical engineer-turned-taipan Lucio Tan, pati na sa nakamulatang marka demonyo na alkohol mula katas ng balinghoy ang naging pangunahing sangkap sapul nitong mga taon ng 1980 nang mapahusay na ang alcohol extraction process mula sa naturang lamang-ugat. At nakagiliwan na nga namin ng katotong Catalino Alano ng Gumamela sa Balayan, Batangas ang inuming may essence of manioc for the likes of us who are sex maniacs.
Sinaing na kisa o pinaghalong durog na mais at bigas ang katapat sa ulam na karne’t gulay—lalo na sa balbakwa, a spicy stew of ox face, feet, tendons, and ligaments. Magulo ang timpla ng kisa. May ibig na dalawang takal na bigas bawat tatlo ng mais; merong 3 bigas:2 mais; o 4 bigas:1 mais or vice versa. Mas tumatalab at mahilab sa tiyan ang pulos mais na lang.
Pero sa mga siyudad ng Cagayan de Oro’t Cebu lang makakahagilap sa palengke ng mainam na mais na makikisa—o baka naman pahiwatig ng umaalingawngaw sa pandinig na pantig niyong salita na napakasarap yatang papakin. Makikisa… Saan? Sa Metro Manila? Patuka sa manok at palablab sa baboy ang mabibiling durog na mais, thoroughly infested with weevils, those wee bugs swimming in the grits na baka pasaring naman sa gobyerno’t Malacañang similarly infested with both humongous and wee evils.
Meron din daw kasing baboy na nakasandal sa Malacañang na kapural sa pagpupuslit ng angkat na bigas—aangkat ng tone-tonelada para kuno sa National Food Authority pero isasalya pala sa commercial rice traders ang inangkat. Oryza sativa-tiba talaga ang pasok ng milyones sa bulsa ng baboy na ‘yon.
Pantapat naman sa pagkaing-dagat o seafood (kasama na yata sa kataguriang ito ng pagkain pati si Marimar na mahilig maglunoy sa dagat) ang mga sapak na tipak ng taajil—o kahit mga umuusok na piraso ng nilaga, inihaw o binanging balinghoy. Matingkad ang hagod-gawgaw sa dila ng kamoteng kahoy na kapag sinundan, halimbawa lang, ng ilang pirasong laman ng alupihang dagat or mantis shrimp for you discriminating gourmets and lap-it-all-up gourmands, parang nagtagpo ang alat-alon ng dagat sa matamis na dalampasigan. Ah, the dulcet brine in seafood rounds out sweetish starch taste of cassava. Pero mahirap nang makahagilap ng alupihang dagat sa mga pamilihan sa Metro Manila and you’ll likely find this seafood delicacy in high-end Chinese restaurants, mantis shrimps still held hostage in recycled one-liter plastic bottles in which they’re pellet-fed and fattened, their meat no longer as stringy or lecherously luscious as their predatory free-roaming kind in the bowels of our seas.
Atsarang guso o seaweed ang panterno ng taga-Cebu sa nilagang kamoteng baging, paghaharap pa rin sa hapag at pagtatalisuyo sa sikmura ng kalamnan sa pusod ng tabsing at nilalaman sa dibdib ng lupa. Sabihin man na ang kamote’y food for utot, sagana naman ang talbos-kamote sa iron, phosphorous, folate, and fiber at pampalakas sa nasalanta ng dengue.
Hindi naman kasi maituturing na pangunahing pagkaing butil kahit na katigbi—or Job’s tears for you Sunday school kids and it has better quality starch and more nutrients than rice— dahil nakagiliwan nga ng may 2.5 bilyon sa populasyon ng daigdig ang pagkain ng kanin. Pinipilit na ngang masalinan ng kahit iron at salpakan ng katiting na protina ang genetically modified rice seedlings—para hindi pulos glucose lang ang taglay nito.
Oryza sativa nga pala ang tawag ng botanists sa palay na damo rin kaya nahihilo kami hanggang ngayon. Para maiugnay ito sa damo rin naman kung ituring na Cannabis sativa.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Stuck with rice
THAT oaf in the low-resolution picture is me alright, wooden pestle in hand and letting its weight wrench out silicate bits of chaff from edible rice grains that we cooked for supper in that work foray in a far-flung sylvan precinct of Montalban, Rizal. The picture belies the lesson I was sharing with a young public school teacher who admitted he writes a mawkish hand.
Picture me in easy earnest discourse, in cerebral intercourse: There’s hideous yet hidden strength in beauty—and both beast and beauty are to be nurtured in hands-on chores, in the most menial of tasks of day-to-day life. Say, hewing wood for kindling with an ax. Tilling land. Cutting with a makeshift heavy sword for a thousand times, pumping out water from an artesian well. Or, in this instance, in the unsophisticated barog way of gleaning rice that turns up unpolished grains or pinawa, fibrous bran (darak that goes into hog feed) intact to give a more filling tummy ballast.
So much painful tedium endured, so much tons of muscle memory are infused to the wrist and upper torso. That, in turn, must be coaxed—aye, drilled over and over—to be polished. To loosen the built-up knot of intensity in an easy rill-flow of writing by hand, or care-free dawdling, even allowing the thrum of the heart to surge through wrist-pulse to express itself in unhurried caressing, weaving movement of the palm.
So cultivated, beauty becomes-- lends itself in anything it touches, a wonderful contagion. And if destiny can be read in the tangle of lines on the hand, fate would read as faith firm and kismet deciphers as kisses ardent.
In decades past, my romance with Oryza sativa had been cheerless—even left my arms with itchy nicks and cuts as if rice grass blades found ready whetstone or strop in one’s limbs. Anyway, there’s wee comfort in a line from Amado V. Hernandez, “ang tabak ay tumatalim sa pisngi ng kapwa tabak,” a bolo’s edge is sharpened against another bolo’s edge. Mananatili ang palay sa dahong-palay kahit mawalay sa palayan—the rice plant remains in the deadly paddy viper even if such serpent be estranged from its paddy haunts. A tidbit of insight is proffered: empty husks or ipa’t tulyapis stand proud while those bulked up with sustenance bow down in obeisance.
Paddies turned out to be haunts of yummy edibles that went well with rice— bullfrogs that had their predators in herons, vipers, and us who turned up such delights as minced pork stuffed fare or batute, or uncomplicated fricassee, or the usual adobo and tinola; escargots or plain kuhol; freshwater crabs (talangka) with pale crimson roe that tops caviar flavor anytime, hey, try doing it as pasta sauce; mole crickets (kamaru) that can be stewed to crisp morsels…some mudfish, the native golden-bellied catfish that tastes of butter plus the old-fashioned flavorful paddy rats, snipes, quails, and, ah, a deadly cobra or two. These delights thrive in paddies where rice is grown.
And yes, the instructions for brewing tapuy and sake must have come with the first handfuls of unhusked rice grains that sun god Amaterazu O-Kami transmuted from sunlight and handed out to soil-tillers eons ago. So we imbibed lessons and the giddiness from having a drink too many, the starch-turned-alcohol burned bright into the brain, knocked us off. As if felled by a bolt of sunstroke…
I’ve told my children I won’t go through that lot of fussing about the soil and irrigation to yield stacks of palay that’ll go through some more fussing—threshing, drying out in the sun, milling. There’s better quality carbohydrate in, say, substitute staples like saba bananas or corn than in rice. Too, a square meter patch of soil planted to corn or saba gives a higher yield than a square meter of soil devoted to rice. On top of that, there’s lesser fuss in raising and reaping either saba or corn.
But we’re stuck with rice…
Picture me in easy earnest discourse, in cerebral intercourse: There’s hideous yet hidden strength in beauty—and both beast and beauty are to be nurtured in hands-on chores, in the most menial of tasks of day-to-day life. Say, hewing wood for kindling with an ax. Tilling land. Cutting with a makeshift heavy sword for a thousand times, pumping out water from an artesian well. Or, in this instance, in the unsophisticated barog way of gleaning rice that turns up unpolished grains or pinawa, fibrous bran (darak that goes into hog feed) intact to give a more filling tummy ballast.
So much painful tedium endured, so much tons of muscle memory are infused to the wrist and upper torso. That, in turn, must be coaxed—aye, drilled over and over—to be polished. To loosen the built-up knot of intensity in an easy rill-flow of writing by hand, or care-free dawdling, even allowing the thrum of the heart to surge through wrist-pulse to express itself in unhurried caressing, weaving movement of the palm.
So cultivated, beauty becomes-- lends itself in anything it touches, a wonderful contagion. And if destiny can be read in the tangle of lines on the hand, fate would read as faith firm and kismet deciphers as kisses ardent.
In decades past, my romance with Oryza sativa had been cheerless—even left my arms with itchy nicks and cuts as if rice grass blades found ready whetstone or strop in one’s limbs. Anyway, there’s wee comfort in a line from Amado V. Hernandez, “ang tabak ay tumatalim sa pisngi ng kapwa tabak,” a bolo’s edge is sharpened against another bolo’s edge. Mananatili ang palay sa dahong-palay kahit mawalay sa palayan—the rice plant remains in the deadly paddy viper even if such serpent be estranged from its paddy haunts. A tidbit of insight is proffered: empty husks or ipa’t tulyapis stand proud while those bulked up with sustenance bow down in obeisance.
Paddies turned out to be haunts of yummy edibles that went well with rice— bullfrogs that had their predators in herons, vipers, and us who turned up such delights as minced pork stuffed fare or batute, or uncomplicated fricassee, or the usual adobo and tinola; escargots or plain kuhol; freshwater crabs (talangka) with pale crimson roe that tops caviar flavor anytime, hey, try doing it as pasta sauce; mole crickets (kamaru) that can be stewed to crisp morsels…some mudfish, the native golden-bellied catfish that tastes of butter plus the old-fashioned flavorful paddy rats, snipes, quails, and, ah, a deadly cobra or two. These delights thrive in paddies where rice is grown.
And yes, the instructions for brewing tapuy and sake must have come with the first handfuls of unhusked rice grains that sun god Amaterazu O-Kami transmuted from sunlight and handed out to soil-tillers eons ago. So we imbibed lessons and the giddiness from having a drink too many, the starch-turned-alcohol burned bright into the brain, knocked us off. As if felled by a bolt of sunstroke…
I’ve told my children I won’t go through that lot of fussing about the soil and irrigation to yield stacks of palay that’ll go through some more fussing—threshing, drying out in the sun, milling. There’s better quality carbohydrate in, say, substitute staples like saba bananas or corn than in rice. Too, a square meter patch of soil planted to corn or saba gives a higher yield than a square meter of soil devoted to rice. On top of that, there’s lesser fuss in raising and reaping either saba or corn.
But we’re stuck with rice…
Pagtitingi’t paghingi ng kausap
WORDS are loose change plied out, piled up in talk—it’s often cheap and we deserve cheapskates who pepper chats with cheap shots, don’t we? Wheezed out of a week ending in a quaint Christmas I’d opt to call anytime as Pasko ng Pagkabuhay, (ang naririnig ko kasi, Happy Ouster!) the just past days of quiet left a feeling that words are sacraments. Made out as sacred testament or massacred most times. Made whole and holy by those who choose to do so out of chewing at the cud, nourished of indwelling word-flesh.
So that probably explains why I still stick it up with old-fashioned fully spelled out tidbits, spare parts, odds and ends biota of speech. Words can be clothed with flesh to dwell among us, why, they’d look like misshapen cretins and freaks if some parts, maybe a letter or two, or a tell-tale punctuation birth mark is willfully left out, lopped off, butchered away. Lintxt ka talaga, pati dilang nakalaan sa cunnilanguages, ba’t pinuputulan-tinatadtad-nilalaslas-tinatastas—nasaan na ang kalayaan ng xxxpression?
So we can speak from the bottom of the heart, trickle out something down to earth. Or speak from the bottom; blow ill wind, ah, farting is such sweet sorrow…
Nasulsulan pa mandin ng ilang tagpo mula wuxia na napanood sa GMA-7, “Hero” na nagtampok sa kakatwang pamamaraan ng pagsulat, ‘yung masuyong kaplugan-pagtatalik ng mga larawang-diwa o kanjin upang mailahad ang ubod at buod ng katagang “tabak.” Basta tabak ang mas marikit na salin sa sword, dahil namumukadkad ang bagwis sa igkas-lipad ng ibong tagak (heron is literally too close to hero) na katugma ng tabak—na iglap na iniigkas din mula pugad na kaluban.
The sword word had to be written out in swift brush strokes on a paper panel about eight feet high. The dexterity with wielding a writing implement would also reveal the writer’s deftness at swordsmanship while the spelled out pictogram would evoke visions of truth for the discerning. Ah, pictograms, hieroglyphs, and such painterly modes of transcribing ideas into tenable form would hardly acquiesce to emasculation or evisceration that’s done these days to thoughts ensconced, encoded—embodied maybe embedded-- in text format.
Huwag namang ipagduldulan sa mga natatanggap kong liham sa electronic mail ang emoticons… wala namang pagkakaiba ang mga isinusulat natin dito… pare-pareho, hindi na masisipat ni masusukat kung mayroon tayong nakatagong kakayahan sa pananandata mula sa ating mga sulat… wala tayong ibubunyag… graphologists or those folks who can make sense of a persona lurking beneath handwriting are a sorry lot, we don’t reveal our hands, keep them close to the chest… so unlike the divine hand that scrawled out a fully spelled out ominous writing on the wall, Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin… 2004 pa nang makatanggap ako ng kapirasong kalatas lang na nakasulat-kamay… nagmula sa isang Welsh na nagsadya sa pasulatan, nagkumpisal na masugid daw siyang sumusubaybay sa kahit ano lang na inilalahad na tila kamay sa pitak na ito… Welsh, Welsh, well wishes…wishing wells into which we toss coins as cheap bribes for granting wishes.
May hiling ang kaluluwa’t may halang ang kaluluwa kaya may kahirapan din itong pumili o kahit bumili ng mainam na kausap. Na makakasuklian ng sensilyo, maybe some sense, too, out of the loose change plied out, piled up in plain talk. Parang kalakalan. Magpapalitan ng halaga, kimpal ng kuwalta ang itatapat sa nais makamit na kalakal. Tatayain kung magkasukat sa timbang ang palitan. Palit-pera. Palit-puri.
And what did one Steve Talbott have to say? “We are continually assaulted by the mechanized word, but less and less aware of where the speaking comes from. We have less and less experience of the conscious acts giving rise to the words, and we ourselves are not really addressed by the words. It is ‘the System’ that speaks, but the System seems to be nothing more than the machine rendered vague and ubiquitous.”
Nang ako’y ungkatin ng anak sa tula
Kung dapat ba itong wakasan sa lagda
Ano ang nasabi, pray tell what did I say?
I let out an earful: these days rhyme doesn’t pay…
So that probably explains why I still stick it up with old-fashioned fully spelled out tidbits, spare parts, odds and ends biota of speech. Words can be clothed with flesh to dwell among us, why, they’d look like misshapen cretins and freaks if some parts, maybe a letter or two, or a tell-tale punctuation birth mark is willfully left out, lopped off, butchered away. Lintxt ka talaga, pati dilang nakalaan sa cunnilanguages, ba’t pinuputulan-tinatadtad-nilalaslas-tinatastas—nasaan na ang kalayaan ng xxxpression?
So we can speak from the bottom of the heart, trickle out something down to earth. Or speak from the bottom; blow ill wind, ah, farting is such sweet sorrow…
Nasulsulan pa mandin ng ilang tagpo mula wuxia na napanood sa GMA-7, “Hero” na nagtampok sa kakatwang pamamaraan ng pagsulat, ‘yung masuyong kaplugan-pagtatalik ng mga larawang-diwa o kanjin upang mailahad ang ubod at buod ng katagang “tabak.” Basta tabak ang mas marikit na salin sa sword, dahil namumukadkad ang bagwis sa igkas-lipad ng ibong tagak (heron is literally too close to hero) na katugma ng tabak—na iglap na iniigkas din mula pugad na kaluban.
The sword word had to be written out in swift brush strokes on a paper panel about eight feet high. The dexterity with wielding a writing implement would also reveal the writer’s deftness at swordsmanship while the spelled out pictogram would evoke visions of truth for the discerning. Ah, pictograms, hieroglyphs, and such painterly modes of transcribing ideas into tenable form would hardly acquiesce to emasculation or evisceration that’s done these days to thoughts ensconced, encoded—embodied maybe embedded-- in text format.
Huwag namang ipagduldulan sa mga natatanggap kong liham sa electronic mail ang emoticons… wala namang pagkakaiba ang mga isinusulat natin dito… pare-pareho, hindi na masisipat ni masusukat kung mayroon tayong nakatagong kakayahan sa pananandata mula sa ating mga sulat… wala tayong ibubunyag… graphologists or those folks who can make sense of a persona lurking beneath handwriting are a sorry lot, we don’t reveal our hands, keep them close to the chest… so unlike the divine hand that scrawled out a fully spelled out ominous writing on the wall, Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin… 2004 pa nang makatanggap ako ng kapirasong kalatas lang na nakasulat-kamay… nagmula sa isang Welsh na nagsadya sa pasulatan, nagkumpisal na masugid daw siyang sumusubaybay sa kahit ano lang na inilalahad na tila kamay sa pitak na ito… Welsh, Welsh, well wishes…wishing wells into which we toss coins as cheap bribes for granting wishes.
May hiling ang kaluluwa’t may halang ang kaluluwa kaya may kahirapan din itong pumili o kahit bumili ng mainam na kausap. Na makakasuklian ng sensilyo, maybe some sense, too, out of the loose change plied out, piled up in plain talk. Parang kalakalan. Magpapalitan ng halaga, kimpal ng kuwalta ang itatapat sa nais makamit na kalakal. Tatayain kung magkasukat sa timbang ang palitan. Palit-pera. Palit-puri.
And what did one Steve Talbott have to say? “We are continually assaulted by the mechanized word, but less and less aware of where the speaking comes from. We have less and less experience of the conscious acts giving rise to the words, and we ourselves are not really addressed by the words. It is ‘the System’ that speaks, but the System seems to be nothing more than the machine rendered vague and ubiquitous.”
Nang ako’y ungkatin ng anak sa tula
Kung dapat ba itong wakasan sa lagda
Ano ang nasabi, pray tell what did I say?
I let out an earful: these days rhyme doesn’t pay…
Sa pamumulot ng salita
NALUOY ang mga usbong na bumulas sa pagitan ng biyas ng kawayan na bitbit hanggang bahay mula liblib na dawag ng kabundukan sa Montalban, Rizal. That’s reason for me to go back to those parts. To obtain two or three internodes with offshoots and try another tack at growing this particular bamboo specimen—sports thin-walled green culms of 4”-5” diameter that ought to be a suitable cookery vessel for in situ boiled rice or culm-stewed chicken binakol; no prickly spines; no lengthy branching offshoots, just a six to10-meter tall, upright pole-spear of growth.
There are more than 20 native bamboos thriving in the country— over 1,000 species are scattered throughout the world—and I guess the lovely specimen I’ve come across is one of our true-brown varieties. And these days, even the gargantuan chrome-and-glass cages of Makati’s posh precincts have doled out as alms-givers do some meager patches of land for dumping a few clumps of the giant grass; ah, bamboo is simply grass hardly down-trodden and oft-manicured as a spread of Bermuda greensward on lawns. Kawayan, hindi kawawa ‘yan.
While Bermuda grass might be an unconscious concession to the rapine powers of the celestial dragon’s head—the demonic caput draconis—bamboo is a down-to-earth giant that can, if properly planted in auspicious directions, make fondest wishes and wet dreams come true. Or haul in and dump on the household good fortune by truckloads, if we’re to believe feng shui lore. Or cause undue pressure plus parboiling (say, kawayan rhymes with kawa ‘yan or that’s a huge wide-mouthed cast-iron pot), inexplicable plague, and deliciously slow mayhem upon adversaries and secret enemies. Maybe, we ought to believe native folklore or a TV advertisement that featured beer-guzzling bandleader Bamboo Mañalac churning charnel out of a loudmouth fart with a blast of spontaneous combustion.
Taxonomists the world over are discouraging identification of bamboo species with common or local names—there’s a flurry of names for a particular species in various localities, so I’ll stick it out with descriptions, maybe keep at heart the more colorful tabs like bayog which isn’t the opposite gender of bayag; or langkawi, laak, anos, bukawe, even kiling on which Mt. Makiling got its name.
Nakapagbitbit din mula sa dinayong liblib ng pandagdag sa imbak ng mga salita. Buringring o guppy, the colorful wee scavenger fishes that feed on detritus and water-borne tidbits of organic matter. It’s been doing such a clean-up job in our rivers and waterways before some smartass decided dumping obnoxious janitor fishes in guppy territories. But it took me decades before stumbling upon a Tagalog word equivalent for the fish I’ve always played with and known as guppy.
Just one word skimmed out of the landscape. That’s not much of an addition to the sprinkling that have been dug and turned up from far-flung parts in previous visits, like, kabatiti or fragrant native loofah; balbatino or stems of water lily flower stalks that are peeled and cooked with tamarind sauce; parda, a wild legume that looks like habitchuelas or Baguio beans that goes into such Iluko staple fare as dinengdeng or pinakbet… Or-ormot is seaweed that can be cooked into tart soup. (Ah, it’s a hunger that can’t be chucked; it’s this appetite for new words that residents of a locality may likely have chewed through or spat out for ages.)
Out of over a dozen strains of upland rice that a long-time resident assured me these are still grown in those forbidding parts of Montalban, she could only turn up three names. Kinaw-itan. Bayuyo. Binernal.
Then again, the words gleaned thus far are labels on the living. Each one provides edible morsels for sustenance. Uh, even buringring or guppies scooped out of unpolluted waters can be wrapped in tender banana leaves and stewed in ginger, onions, and chopped tomatoes—a tad bitter-tasting but is still a delicacy.
Maybe, the gray matter is an insatiable gourmand that must be fed and plied with tidbits of the landscape...
There are more than 20 native bamboos thriving in the country— over 1,000 species are scattered throughout the world—and I guess the lovely specimen I’ve come across is one of our true-brown varieties. And these days, even the gargantuan chrome-and-glass cages of Makati’s posh precincts have doled out as alms-givers do some meager patches of land for dumping a few clumps of the giant grass; ah, bamboo is simply grass hardly down-trodden and oft-manicured as a spread of Bermuda greensward on lawns. Kawayan, hindi kawawa ‘yan.
While Bermuda grass might be an unconscious concession to the rapine powers of the celestial dragon’s head—the demonic caput draconis—bamboo is a down-to-earth giant that can, if properly planted in auspicious directions, make fondest wishes and wet dreams come true. Or haul in and dump on the household good fortune by truckloads, if we’re to believe feng shui lore. Or cause undue pressure plus parboiling (say, kawayan rhymes with kawa ‘yan or that’s a huge wide-mouthed cast-iron pot), inexplicable plague, and deliciously slow mayhem upon adversaries and secret enemies. Maybe, we ought to believe native folklore or a TV advertisement that featured beer-guzzling bandleader Bamboo Mañalac churning charnel out of a loudmouth fart with a blast of spontaneous combustion.
Taxonomists the world over are discouraging identification of bamboo species with common or local names—there’s a flurry of names for a particular species in various localities, so I’ll stick it out with descriptions, maybe keep at heart the more colorful tabs like bayog which isn’t the opposite gender of bayag; or langkawi, laak, anos, bukawe, even kiling on which Mt. Makiling got its name.
Nakapagbitbit din mula sa dinayong liblib ng pandagdag sa imbak ng mga salita. Buringring o guppy, the colorful wee scavenger fishes that feed on detritus and water-borne tidbits of organic matter. It’s been doing such a clean-up job in our rivers and waterways before some smartass decided dumping obnoxious janitor fishes in guppy territories. But it took me decades before stumbling upon a Tagalog word equivalent for the fish I’ve always played with and known as guppy.
Just one word skimmed out of the landscape. That’s not much of an addition to the sprinkling that have been dug and turned up from far-flung parts in previous visits, like, kabatiti or fragrant native loofah; balbatino or stems of water lily flower stalks that are peeled and cooked with tamarind sauce; parda, a wild legume that looks like habitchuelas or Baguio beans that goes into such Iluko staple fare as dinengdeng or pinakbet… Or-ormot is seaweed that can be cooked into tart soup. (Ah, it’s a hunger that can’t be chucked; it’s this appetite for new words that residents of a locality may likely have chewed through or spat out for ages.)
Out of over a dozen strains of upland rice that a long-time resident assured me these are still grown in those forbidding parts of Montalban, she could only turn up three names. Kinaw-itan. Bayuyo. Binernal.
Then again, the words gleaned thus far are labels on the living. Each one provides edible morsels for sustenance. Uh, even buringring or guppies scooped out of unpolluted waters can be wrapped in tender banana leaves and stewed in ginger, onions, and chopped tomatoes—a tad bitter-tasting but is still a delicacy.
Maybe, the gray matter is an insatiable gourmand that must be fed and plied with tidbits of the landscape...
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Lihim na kayamanan sa kabundukan ng Montalban
BUHAWI yata o tornado ang katulad ni Natividad Icabandi. Painut-inot man sa mga tagpi ng matatamnang lupa sa isang liblib na kaingin sa Casili, San Rafael sa paanan ng mga nakahumindig na bundok sa Montalban ng lalawigang Rizal, halos walang humpay sa inot na ikot ang matanda—87 taon ang edad, tubong Malinao, Aklan pero may 25 taon nang namamalagi sa naturang ilang na lugar. Na ang layo sa Maynila ay dalawang oras na biyahe sa sasakyan. Saka apat na oras na lakad-hingal-hagok sa mga daan at landas na hindi na mapapasok ng kahit 4 x 4.
Pero dinadayo pa rin ang naturang pook, tila alon sa anumang panahon ang paghangos doon ng mga treasure hunters. Pawang naghahagilap ng mga ibinaon daw na mga tipak ng ginto’t kung anu-ano pang kayamanan. Na kinurakot, natipon ni Heneral Tomoyuki Yamashita mula sinakop na iba’t ibang lupalop sa silangan at timog-silangang Asia—na inilibing naman umano sa kung saan-saang lugar sa Pilipinas.
Marami man ang nahuhumaling sa biglaang yaman mula paghahalukay sa mga singit at kili-kili ng kabundukan sa Montalban, sa pagbubungkal ng lupang kinaingin ang kinaugalian ng matandang Icabandi— pantawid-buhay lang na tulad sa mga nakagalang manok na alaga, makailang kakahig sa lupa para may matuka na kahit ilang butil na palay.
Sabihin man na mahigit sa 12 uri ang palay na naitatanim sa ganoong liblib na lunan, pawang anim na buwan ang singkad ng panahon mula paghahasik at gapasan—marami na ang 10 sako na maaani bawat ektarya. At may isang oras ang magugugol sa pagbayo’t pagtatahip sa 3-4 na dakot na palay upang may maisaing na bigas.
May bahid ng pagmamalaki ang matanda habang isinasalin mula lusong sa hugis-peras na bilao ang binayong palay para matahip, maihiwalay ang darak o rice bran, binlid (finely ground grains) at ipa (rice chaff) sa mga butil ng bigas. Minsan santaon, may mga bumibili ng naturang bilao—P100 ang turing sa isa, ilang daan din ang nabibili. At siya ang naglalala ng mga iyon: mula pagputol hanggang sa pagtilad at pagtistis ng kawayan, pati na sa paghabi ng mga natistis na kawayan. Tiyaga ng kamay at linaw ng mga mata ang kailangan sa ganoong gawain.
Nang magtahip siya ng kababayong palay, hangos na sumugod ang mga nakagalang manok—tila mga treasure hunters na magkakalkal—at lumutang naman sa pagtatahip ang kakaibang two-tone beat na tahasang naiiba sa pintig ng Jew’s harp, kahit ska o reggae. Agad na sinabihan ang isang kasama, “Grab that beat, get it into your mobile phone. That’s an unheard-of rock and roll beat, believe me! Something very Filipino it is!”
Talaga yatang mas malalim na kaalaman ang sumasalin sa sinumang inilalapat ang kamay sa samut-saring gawain, at lumutang ang ganoong kaalaman sa kakaibang tunog mula sa pagtatahip, in that idiom about winnowing chaff from grain made real and vibrant by a gnarled rustic.
At kailangan yata talagang tutukan ang matanda para makatuklas pa ng anumang kapakinabangan sa kanyang mga ginagawa.
Papasuksok na ang araw sa bundok sa gawing kanluran nang maupo siya sa isang sulok ng bahay paharap sa bintanang nakatanaw sa hilaga— nagnilay, naglabas ng aklat-dasalan at dusaryo’t sinimulan ang pag-aalay ng dalangin. Tila isinaboy na malamig na tubig sa paningin ang ganoong tanawin.
Walang kuryente sa ganoong liblib na lugar—ni wala ngang mobile phone signal na makarating. Walang radyo’t TV. Ilawang de gas lang ang pantanglaw sa gabi. Sa Metro-Manila at iba pang mga kanugnog na lugar, pawang telebisyon ang nakaluklok sa dambana’t altar— iba’t ibang balita’t anuman ang bubuhos sa kahabaan ng prime time.
Hindi pa lubusang umaangat ang mga bumabang ulap, masidhi pa rin ang sigid ng lamig nang magising kami—apat kaming magkakasamang mananaliksik na nakitulog sa dampa—pero wala na sa kanyang kinahihigan ang matanda. Natanaw naming sa di-kalayuan, abala sa pagdidilig ng sampitak na mga puno ng mais.
Maya-maya pa’y nakarinig ng paghahawan ng mga dawag at tuyong dahon sa iba namang panig ng kaingin—naroon na siya, abala pa rin…
Ah, may kayamanang mahuhukay sa ganoong payak, tiwasay na pamumuhay.
Pero dinadayo pa rin ang naturang pook, tila alon sa anumang panahon ang paghangos doon ng mga treasure hunters. Pawang naghahagilap ng mga ibinaon daw na mga tipak ng ginto’t kung anu-ano pang kayamanan. Na kinurakot, natipon ni Heneral Tomoyuki Yamashita mula sinakop na iba’t ibang lupalop sa silangan at timog-silangang Asia—na inilibing naman umano sa kung saan-saang lugar sa Pilipinas.
Marami man ang nahuhumaling sa biglaang yaman mula paghahalukay sa mga singit at kili-kili ng kabundukan sa Montalban, sa pagbubungkal ng lupang kinaingin ang kinaugalian ng matandang Icabandi— pantawid-buhay lang na tulad sa mga nakagalang manok na alaga, makailang kakahig sa lupa para may matuka na kahit ilang butil na palay.
Sabihin man na mahigit sa 12 uri ang palay na naitatanim sa ganoong liblib na lunan, pawang anim na buwan ang singkad ng panahon mula paghahasik at gapasan—marami na ang 10 sako na maaani bawat ektarya. At may isang oras ang magugugol sa pagbayo’t pagtatahip sa 3-4 na dakot na palay upang may maisaing na bigas.
May bahid ng pagmamalaki ang matanda habang isinasalin mula lusong sa hugis-peras na bilao ang binayong palay para matahip, maihiwalay ang darak o rice bran, binlid (finely ground grains) at ipa (rice chaff) sa mga butil ng bigas. Minsan santaon, may mga bumibili ng naturang bilao—P100 ang turing sa isa, ilang daan din ang nabibili. At siya ang naglalala ng mga iyon: mula pagputol hanggang sa pagtilad at pagtistis ng kawayan, pati na sa paghabi ng mga natistis na kawayan. Tiyaga ng kamay at linaw ng mga mata ang kailangan sa ganoong gawain.
Nang magtahip siya ng kababayong palay, hangos na sumugod ang mga nakagalang manok—tila mga treasure hunters na magkakalkal—at lumutang naman sa pagtatahip ang kakaibang two-tone beat na tahasang naiiba sa pintig ng Jew’s harp, kahit ska o reggae. Agad na sinabihan ang isang kasama, “Grab that beat, get it into your mobile phone. That’s an unheard-of rock and roll beat, believe me! Something very Filipino it is!”
Talaga yatang mas malalim na kaalaman ang sumasalin sa sinumang inilalapat ang kamay sa samut-saring gawain, at lumutang ang ganoong kaalaman sa kakaibang tunog mula sa pagtatahip, in that idiom about winnowing chaff from grain made real and vibrant by a gnarled rustic.
At kailangan yata talagang tutukan ang matanda para makatuklas pa ng anumang kapakinabangan sa kanyang mga ginagawa.
Papasuksok na ang araw sa bundok sa gawing kanluran nang maupo siya sa isang sulok ng bahay paharap sa bintanang nakatanaw sa hilaga— nagnilay, naglabas ng aklat-dasalan at dusaryo’t sinimulan ang pag-aalay ng dalangin. Tila isinaboy na malamig na tubig sa paningin ang ganoong tanawin.
Walang kuryente sa ganoong liblib na lugar—ni wala ngang mobile phone signal na makarating. Walang radyo’t TV. Ilawang de gas lang ang pantanglaw sa gabi. Sa Metro-Manila at iba pang mga kanugnog na lugar, pawang telebisyon ang nakaluklok sa dambana’t altar— iba’t ibang balita’t anuman ang bubuhos sa kahabaan ng prime time.
Hindi pa lubusang umaangat ang mga bumabang ulap, masidhi pa rin ang sigid ng lamig nang magising kami—apat kaming magkakasamang mananaliksik na nakitulog sa dampa—pero wala na sa kanyang kinahihigan ang matanda. Natanaw naming sa di-kalayuan, abala sa pagdidilig ng sampitak na mga puno ng mais.
Maya-maya pa’y nakarinig ng paghahawan ng mga dawag at tuyong dahon sa iba namang panig ng kaingin—naroon na siya, abala pa rin…
Ah, may kayamanang mahuhukay sa ganoong payak, tiwasay na pamumuhay.
Malediction on idiot-cation
MICHAEL Abacan, fired up full of his 22 summers of life has to wrack his head on who he can turn to for five keepsake honor medals he would give to the outstanding students he has turned up at Casili Elementary School—it’s a far-flung work post hemmed by boondocks in the remote parts of Montalban, Rizal for a volunteer teacher. For one, he hasn’t been paid his wages for months and even if he wanted to shell out some cash for medals, all he has is the shirt on his back.
Pero mabait naman ang kanyang tinutuluyan saka uliran sa sipag si Michael. Katu-katulong sa pagbabayo ng palay upang may maisaing sa araw-araw, natuto na rin sa pagluluto at pangangalaga ng mga pananim sa kaingin. Kahit iyang pagbabayo ng isasaing ay hindi biro, kulani sa kili-kili’t linsad na balikat ang madalas na mapapalang tutubo.
Abacan takes abode in that swidden farm hut about an hour’s trudge through a terrain gone amok choked with bushes, boulders, and thickets to get to the school where he teaches. That trudge merely takes him 15 minutes. He’d had constant practice trekking through similar topography in his Kalinga hometown where he took up education at the local state college.
Marami raw namang nakakatapos ng kolehiyo sa kanyang pinagmulan. Para masabi nga naman na kahit nakatunganga lang sa maghapon para maghintay sa malabo yatang hinaharap, may maipapakitang college diploma—wala nga lang mapapasukang trabaho.
So he took off for unknown parts and found himself in familiar territory, with soaring hopes that by teaching children, he could make a difference in their lives. He does.
Ni hindi nga nakatagal sa pag-asikaso sa mga bata ang gurong pinalitan sa gitna ng sapa ni Michael—lumipat sa mas maginhawang lunan na mapagtuturuan upang makaiwas sa araw-araw na penitensiya. Baka nga lumipad na papuntang Amerika dahil mas gunggong man at maligalig ang mga tuturuang musmos doon, mas matindi naman ang isusukling sahod sa gurong magtitiyaga.
Michael can’t complain about the pupil-teacher ration that afflicts most public schools in the country, or a roomful of 50 to 75 kids for every teacher. He handles a tenable 35 pupils—in Grades IV, V, and VI—all at the same time in a room more fitting for a pigsty. That means conducting classes as an orchestra conductor does, why, Casili Elementary School has only two intrepid volunteer teachers handling six grade levels… simultaneously. And you thought that only happens in chess—a simultaneous game in which a grandmaster tackles as many amateur comers in one sitting? Abacan does that. Daily with plenty of energy to spare.
Hindi naman kasi madaling puntahan ang naturang paaralan. Malayo nga sa kabihasnan. Kaya nang maglabas ng pondo ang lokal na pamahalaan sa pagpapatayo ng kongkretong gusali, ulbuan ng baboy na walang kalahati ng gusali ang kongkreto’t tinagpian na lang ng maaapuhap na mga tilad na kawayan sa paligid ang iba pang bahagi nito. Nakatipid nga naman nang malaki ang kontratista. Para malaking halaga mula sa nakontratang proyekto ang maibulsa.
We really can’t moderate the greed. Even at such pigpen level, the avarice for money holds sway and is likely a national trait.
Ikinumpisal ni Abacan na may ilang mag-aaral na kilangang ihulog, panatilihin muna sa ika-anim na baytang. Hindi pa kasi marunong bumasa’t sumulat. Naisangguni nga niya sa distritong sumasaklaw sa naturang mababang paaralan ang kanyang hakbang. Sinabihan siyang ipasa lahat ang mga bata’t sumunod na lang sa ganoong utos—baka mawalan pa siya ng trabaho kung susuway…
Honoring pupils with five keepsake medals won’t be much of a problem for Abacan. The cost for such is a lot less than the tab we pay for a night’s session with beer and bravura. Honoring a true-brown mentor like him is another matter, maybe even giving him a hand with books and instructional materials to help him out in his teaching tasks.
Ni wala ngang aklat na mababasa ang mga musmos na ‘yon—at marami nang guro ang sumuko sa araw-araw na penitensiya para makarating lang sa paaralan para magturo…
In the meanwhile, let me turn down speechwriting assignments for politicos and louts who’ll be addressing parents, hangers-on, and graduates in this year’s commencement exercises. Let’s get down to the pigsty level for a change, spread some of that slop and meaty morsels with rancid hogwash on those too distant troughs.
Kaya ba natin ‘yon?
Pero mabait naman ang kanyang tinutuluyan saka uliran sa sipag si Michael. Katu-katulong sa pagbabayo ng palay upang may maisaing sa araw-araw, natuto na rin sa pagluluto at pangangalaga ng mga pananim sa kaingin. Kahit iyang pagbabayo ng isasaing ay hindi biro, kulani sa kili-kili’t linsad na balikat ang madalas na mapapalang tutubo.
Abacan takes abode in that swidden farm hut about an hour’s trudge through a terrain gone amok choked with bushes, boulders, and thickets to get to the school where he teaches. That trudge merely takes him 15 minutes. He’d had constant practice trekking through similar topography in his Kalinga hometown where he took up education at the local state college.
Marami raw namang nakakatapos ng kolehiyo sa kanyang pinagmulan. Para masabi nga naman na kahit nakatunganga lang sa maghapon para maghintay sa malabo yatang hinaharap, may maipapakitang college diploma—wala nga lang mapapasukang trabaho.
So he took off for unknown parts and found himself in familiar territory, with soaring hopes that by teaching children, he could make a difference in their lives. He does.
Ni hindi nga nakatagal sa pag-asikaso sa mga bata ang gurong pinalitan sa gitna ng sapa ni Michael—lumipat sa mas maginhawang lunan na mapagtuturuan upang makaiwas sa araw-araw na penitensiya. Baka nga lumipad na papuntang Amerika dahil mas gunggong man at maligalig ang mga tuturuang musmos doon, mas matindi naman ang isusukling sahod sa gurong magtitiyaga.
Michael can’t complain about the pupil-teacher ration that afflicts most public schools in the country, or a roomful of 50 to 75 kids for every teacher. He handles a tenable 35 pupils—in Grades IV, V, and VI—all at the same time in a room more fitting for a pigsty. That means conducting classes as an orchestra conductor does, why, Casili Elementary School has only two intrepid volunteer teachers handling six grade levels… simultaneously. And you thought that only happens in chess—a simultaneous game in which a grandmaster tackles as many amateur comers in one sitting? Abacan does that. Daily with plenty of energy to spare.
Hindi naman kasi madaling puntahan ang naturang paaralan. Malayo nga sa kabihasnan. Kaya nang maglabas ng pondo ang lokal na pamahalaan sa pagpapatayo ng kongkretong gusali, ulbuan ng baboy na walang kalahati ng gusali ang kongkreto’t tinagpian na lang ng maaapuhap na mga tilad na kawayan sa paligid ang iba pang bahagi nito. Nakatipid nga naman nang malaki ang kontratista. Para malaking halaga mula sa nakontratang proyekto ang maibulsa.
We really can’t moderate the greed. Even at such pigpen level, the avarice for money holds sway and is likely a national trait.
Ikinumpisal ni Abacan na may ilang mag-aaral na kilangang ihulog, panatilihin muna sa ika-anim na baytang. Hindi pa kasi marunong bumasa’t sumulat. Naisangguni nga niya sa distritong sumasaklaw sa naturang mababang paaralan ang kanyang hakbang. Sinabihan siyang ipasa lahat ang mga bata’t sumunod na lang sa ganoong utos—baka mawalan pa siya ng trabaho kung susuway…
Honoring pupils with five keepsake medals won’t be much of a problem for Abacan. The cost for such is a lot less than the tab we pay for a night’s session with beer and bravura. Honoring a true-brown mentor like him is another matter, maybe even giving him a hand with books and instructional materials to help him out in his teaching tasks.
Ni wala ngang aklat na mababasa ang mga musmos na ‘yon—at marami nang guro ang sumuko sa araw-araw na penitensiya para makarating lang sa paaralan para magturo…
In the meanwhile, let me turn down speechwriting assignments for politicos and louts who’ll be addressing parents, hangers-on, and graduates in this year’s commencement exercises. Let’s get down to the pigsty level for a change, spread some of that slop and meaty morsels with rancid hogwash on those too distant troughs.
Kaya ba natin ‘yon?
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
"Ano na'ng balita sa bahay?"
I HAVE just finished inspecting and assessing an onshore desalting unit...where crude oil gets separated from salt...where hydrogen sulfide is present...where I had an accident (slipped from a tunnel ladder and got my knees ram onto steel tubes, my knees were swollen last night, now they’re OK). The unit is located at Tanajib, a remote area.
“Two Arabs from the processing unit went up to me for a little chat...asked about my line of work on what I do for the inspection unit. After detailing what I do as an on-stream inspector, they suddenly asked if I am British... told them I’m not. Then they asked if my parents are Brits or one of them is... I told them you are from Batangas and Mama hails from Pangasinan... both of you are Filipinos.
“They were very surprised as I am more fluent than them in speaking English. They swear and believe I have British blood in me... I don’t, I know Caucasians and I’m far from being one of them...then an Iranian asked perhaps I have American blood in me... susmeh, Pinoy nga, hello...ang kulit minsan ng tao, ano?
“Tomorrow I will be doing Safaniya plant R74 gas plant, where sweet oil gets processed (fact: sweet oil or light oil is more expensive than crude or heavy oil). Hopefully I won’t slip, masakit matuhod… I have had lots of accidents but this one hurts like hell.
“Ano na’ng balita sa bahay?”
Dalawang maikling kuwento lang ang naiambag ko sa “Liwayway” na tila 5,000 sipi na lang bawat linggo ang inililimbag para sa mambabasa nito—P270 ang bayad sa bawat kuwento’t hindi na siguro mauulit pang mag-ambag uli ako. Oo, konti na lang ang mambabasa.
Mas malaki ang tabo sa TV, but the writing jobs are firmly gripped by tentacles of coteries within the networks and they won’t moderate their greed kaya mahirap makalusot doon—saka galing sa ibang planeta yata ang ginagamit nilang wika doon, the phraseology and speech patterns in scripts betray an effeminate mindset. Hindi ko kaya ang gano’n, sabi mo nga’y nagmula ako sa bayan ng balisong at tahanan ng mga tirong, ‘yung mga lagalag na parang AWOL na sundalo na karaniwang San Miguel ang iniingatang agimat. Yeah, St. Michael as in hinebra marka demonyo.
So I have to write in English, and speak the tongue which I have been drilled in before learning the abakada. Hindi man ikinahihiya ng mga Pilipino ang kanilang wika at nakatampok nga ang anumang magmumula sa mga bakla, they’re not putting money where the mouth is, eh, ano pa ba ang katuturan niyon kundi suction slurps louder than words, pwe-he-he-he-he!
Sina Edgardo Reyes na sumulat ng “Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag” at Catalino Alano lang ang masugid na nag-uudyok sa akin na magsulat pa rin sa Tagalog. Barako pareho ‘yon. Kapwa naging editor ko.
Nasabi ko na sa ‘yong dadayo ako sa lunan ng mga Dumagat sa Sierra Madre para magbahagi ng aking kaalaman sa pagsisinop ng lupa—soil science. Ang totoo’y pagsubok sa aking katatasan sa sariling wika ang nais kong gawin. Lapat-kamay na kaalaman ang aking isasalin, ‘langya, walang bayad na pagtuturo ‘to pero maganda ang magiging pihit ng kanilang kabuhayan kung tatalima sa matututunan.
Binigyan nga pala uli ako ng panibagong gawang sulatin. Aklat. Tungkol na naman sa nutrition, one area of expertise I’ve warmed to and freely did spadework to deepen my knowledge. Magandang magbayad ang pasulatan na nagpapasulat. And I have to write in English as usual.
Teka nga pala, your great grandfather on my family side spoke fluent Spanish that must have been convent-drilled into him. He had Iberian features, a Castilian air about him and a haughty, aristocratic gait. Yabang? Like it or not, you’ve got some Caucasian blood in you and the quaint shapes of our noses are a telltale mark of such far-removed origins we want to remove but just can’t.
Balita sa bahay… Kami lang ng Mama mo saka mga aso’t pusa ang madalas na nasa bahay.
“Two Arabs from the processing unit went up to me for a little chat...asked about my line of work on what I do for the inspection unit. After detailing what I do as an on-stream inspector, they suddenly asked if I am British... told them I’m not. Then they asked if my parents are Brits or one of them is... I told them you are from Batangas and Mama hails from Pangasinan... both of you are Filipinos.
“They were very surprised as I am more fluent than them in speaking English. They swear and believe I have British blood in me... I don’t, I know Caucasians and I’m far from being one of them...then an Iranian asked perhaps I have American blood in me... susmeh, Pinoy nga, hello...ang kulit minsan ng tao, ano?
“Tomorrow I will be doing Safaniya plant R74 gas plant, where sweet oil gets processed (fact: sweet oil or light oil is more expensive than crude or heavy oil). Hopefully I won’t slip, masakit matuhod… I have had lots of accidents but this one hurts like hell.
“Ano na’ng balita sa bahay?”
Dalawang maikling kuwento lang ang naiambag ko sa “Liwayway” na tila 5,000 sipi na lang bawat linggo ang inililimbag para sa mambabasa nito—P270 ang bayad sa bawat kuwento’t hindi na siguro mauulit pang mag-ambag uli ako. Oo, konti na lang ang mambabasa.
Mas malaki ang tabo sa TV, but the writing jobs are firmly gripped by tentacles of coteries within the networks and they won’t moderate their greed kaya mahirap makalusot doon—saka galing sa ibang planeta yata ang ginagamit nilang wika doon, the phraseology and speech patterns in scripts betray an effeminate mindset. Hindi ko kaya ang gano’n, sabi mo nga’y nagmula ako sa bayan ng balisong at tahanan ng mga tirong, ‘yung mga lagalag na parang AWOL na sundalo na karaniwang San Miguel ang iniingatang agimat. Yeah, St. Michael as in hinebra marka demonyo.
So I have to write in English, and speak the tongue which I have been drilled in before learning the abakada. Hindi man ikinahihiya ng mga Pilipino ang kanilang wika at nakatampok nga ang anumang magmumula sa mga bakla, they’re not putting money where the mouth is, eh, ano pa ba ang katuturan niyon kundi suction slurps louder than words, pwe-he-he-he-he!
Sina Edgardo Reyes na sumulat ng “Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag” at Catalino Alano lang ang masugid na nag-uudyok sa akin na magsulat pa rin sa Tagalog. Barako pareho ‘yon. Kapwa naging editor ko.
Nasabi ko na sa ‘yong dadayo ako sa lunan ng mga Dumagat sa Sierra Madre para magbahagi ng aking kaalaman sa pagsisinop ng lupa—soil science. Ang totoo’y pagsubok sa aking katatasan sa sariling wika ang nais kong gawin. Lapat-kamay na kaalaman ang aking isasalin, ‘langya, walang bayad na pagtuturo ‘to pero maganda ang magiging pihit ng kanilang kabuhayan kung tatalima sa matututunan.
Binigyan nga pala uli ako ng panibagong gawang sulatin. Aklat. Tungkol na naman sa nutrition, one area of expertise I’ve warmed to and freely did spadework to deepen my knowledge. Magandang magbayad ang pasulatan na nagpapasulat. And I have to write in English as usual.
Teka nga pala, your great grandfather on my family side spoke fluent Spanish that must have been convent-drilled into him. He had Iberian features, a Castilian air about him and a haughty, aristocratic gait. Yabang? Like it or not, you’ve got some Caucasian blood in you and the quaint shapes of our noses are a telltale mark of such far-removed origins we want to remove but just can’t.
Balita sa bahay… Kami lang ng Mama mo saka mga aso’t pusa ang madalas na nasa bahay.
Kakaibang ibayo kapag nagbabayo
ILANG ulit na tumawag sa telepono ang kasambahay ng bayaw— natutulog pa ko’t kailangan pang tungkabin ng bareta de cabra sa higaan. Kalaunan nga’y nahagip din. Para ungkatin ukol sa paraan sa pagluluto ng kimchi.
Kasi’y muntik nang makarating hanggang London ang ibinigay na kimchi sa kanila, nasarapan marahil sa aking timpla—habang nilalantakan, uusok ang tainga’t tutulo ang uhog sa igting ng anghang-tamis-asim na maingat na natimbang.
Inisa-isa nga ang mga hakbang. Na madali namang sundan at ulit-ulitin upang makapagluto ng kimchi, the oriental version of sauerkraut.
Mayroon pala akong nawaglit na ibunyag sa aking kakatwang paraan sa pagluluto. Parang natatanging sangkap na humahalo sa anumang lutuin na lalapatan ng kamay at diwa. Malakas ang kutob kong ganito rin ang sumasaling sangkap sa lutuin ng mga nakikipag-irugan sa bathala ng kusina.
What apparently goes into a hand-ripped head of Napa cabbage to turn up my version of kimchi: a dozen to 15 assorted chili peppers to meld a diversity of incendiary flavors; walo hanggang 10 ngipin ng bawang Ilocos; a thumb-size piece of ginger for a whit of earthly warmth; a wee pinch each of oregano, black pepper, and nutmeg to lend quaint piquancy; three tablespoons muscovado or sugar palm-derived sugar plus two cups of palm toddy-derived vinegar—mas mainam kung mismong tuba ang pansanaw na sabaw—that provides the microbial culture from zillions of lactic acid bacteria, the unseen agents that whip up fermentation to infuse whiffs of wine in kimchi.
Ano pa ang nawawaglit na sangkap na maibubunyag?
For an honored guest, a Thai host would pound a wee sheet of silver for an entire day… until such silver spreads out much, much thinner than onion skin to wrap slivers of beef with… and the ultra-thin silver wrapping actually melts on the tongue… and in that day-long incessant pounding, the host would wrap his attention in a state of rapture, chanting a Buddhist mantra for hours on end… ah, would the kitchen deity be so pleased with so simple a show of devotion?
Preparation of curry—an amalgam of two to a few dozen spices— is likely to be similar, an offering of orisons to the gods of hearth and home, the mantras to invoke or salute the deity plied out in sullen silence, infused into the rhythm and reason of mortar and pestle that melds, welds curry flavors… a currying for favors from the divine.
Pinansin noon ng faith healer na tumungkab sa takip ng tercero ojo sa aking noo na isa raw sa aking mga kamay ang kawangki ng kamay ni Durga—bathaluman ng pagpuksa at kariktan… sumasalin yata’t nagiging sangkap sa kamay at bisig ang katangian ng bathala’t bathaluman na walang patumanggang inuuntag habang subsob ang kamay sa anumang gawain… sa walang patumangga halos na pagtimba sa poso, doon yata naibunton ang pagbibigkis ng lagalag na diwa sa walang humpay na pagbati sa naturang bathaluman… eh, ba’t parang samputol na punong palasan pa rin ang hugis ng bisig ko, ‘langya…
Halo’t lusong, the old fashioned mortar and pestle, iyon pa rin sa halip na food processor ang nakagawiang gamit sa pagdikdik ng mga sangkap na ilalangkap sa kimchi. The hand could be trapped in an infectious rhythm of pounding sugar and spice and all things nice into a smooth paste. Sige na nga, binabayo rin ang alindog na pinipithaya—pinipitpit habang nakatihaya. Kaya nga parang malaswa ang bugtong na ang sagot ay halo’t lusong: kay inang na yungib na tiwangwang, sinalaksak-hinalukay ng kay tatang…
So there can be an infusion of the divine in such a menial task as pounding. Nalalapatan ng kamay. At natukoy sa pananaliksik ng agham na umaangat ang antas, nag-iibayo ang kaalaman at kakayahan ng tao kapag inilalapat ang kamay sa samut-saring gawain—kaya nga mahigit na 80 kilos at kislot ng kamay ang minsan nating inisa-isang itinala sa isang naunang lumabas na pitak. Ah, nag-iibayo kahit sa pagbayo, may nalilikha sa pag-atikha.
Sandosena yatang ngalan ni Allah ang paulit-ulit na inuusal habang nagdidikdik ng mga sangkap sa kimchi.
A food offering may thus share blessings.
Kasi’y muntik nang makarating hanggang London ang ibinigay na kimchi sa kanila, nasarapan marahil sa aking timpla—habang nilalantakan, uusok ang tainga’t tutulo ang uhog sa igting ng anghang-tamis-asim na maingat na natimbang.
Inisa-isa nga ang mga hakbang. Na madali namang sundan at ulit-ulitin upang makapagluto ng kimchi, the oriental version of sauerkraut.
Mayroon pala akong nawaglit na ibunyag sa aking kakatwang paraan sa pagluluto. Parang natatanging sangkap na humahalo sa anumang lutuin na lalapatan ng kamay at diwa. Malakas ang kutob kong ganito rin ang sumasaling sangkap sa lutuin ng mga nakikipag-irugan sa bathala ng kusina.
What apparently goes into a hand-ripped head of Napa cabbage to turn up my version of kimchi: a dozen to 15 assorted chili peppers to meld a diversity of incendiary flavors; walo hanggang 10 ngipin ng bawang Ilocos; a thumb-size piece of ginger for a whit of earthly warmth; a wee pinch each of oregano, black pepper, and nutmeg to lend quaint piquancy; three tablespoons muscovado or sugar palm-derived sugar plus two cups of palm toddy-derived vinegar—mas mainam kung mismong tuba ang pansanaw na sabaw—that provides the microbial culture from zillions of lactic acid bacteria, the unseen agents that whip up fermentation to infuse whiffs of wine in kimchi.
Ano pa ang nawawaglit na sangkap na maibubunyag?
For an honored guest, a Thai host would pound a wee sheet of silver for an entire day… until such silver spreads out much, much thinner than onion skin to wrap slivers of beef with… and the ultra-thin silver wrapping actually melts on the tongue… and in that day-long incessant pounding, the host would wrap his attention in a state of rapture, chanting a Buddhist mantra for hours on end… ah, would the kitchen deity be so pleased with so simple a show of devotion?
Preparation of curry—an amalgam of two to a few dozen spices— is likely to be similar, an offering of orisons to the gods of hearth and home, the mantras to invoke or salute the deity plied out in sullen silence, infused into the rhythm and reason of mortar and pestle that melds, welds curry flavors… a currying for favors from the divine.
Pinansin noon ng faith healer na tumungkab sa takip ng tercero ojo sa aking noo na isa raw sa aking mga kamay ang kawangki ng kamay ni Durga—bathaluman ng pagpuksa at kariktan… sumasalin yata’t nagiging sangkap sa kamay at bisig ang katangian ng bathala’t bathaluman na walang patumanggang inuuntag habang subsob ang kamay sa anumang gawain… sa walang patumangga halos na pagtimba sa poso, doon yata naibunton ang pagbibigkis ng lagalag na diwa sa walang humpay na pagbati sa naturang bathaluman… eh, ba’t parang samputol na punong palasan pa rin ang hugis ng bisig ko, ‘langya…
Halo’t lusong, the old fashioned mortar and pestle, iyon pa rin sa halip na food processor ang nakagawiang gamit sa pagdikdik ng mga sangkap na ilalangkap sa kimchi. The hand could be trapped in an infectious rhythm of pounding sugar and spice and all things nice into a smooth paste. Sige na nga, binabayo rin ang alindog na pinipithaya—pinipitpit habang nakatihaya. Kaya nga parang malaswa ang bugtong na ang sagot ay halo’t lusong: kay inang na yungib na tiwangwang, sinalaksak-hinalukay ng kay tatang…
So there can be an infusion of the divine in such a menial task as pounding. Nalalapatan ng kamay. At natukoy sa pananaliksik ng agham na umaangat ang antas, nag-iibayo ang kaalaman at kakayahan ng tao kapag inilalapat ang kamay sa samut-saring gawain—kaya nga mahigit na 80 kilos at kislot ng kamay ang minsan nating inisa-isang itinala sa isang naunang lumabas na pitak. Ah, nag-iibayo kahit sa pagbayo, may nalilikha sa pag-atikha.
Sandosena yatang ngalan ni Allah ang paulit-ulit na inuusal habang nagdidikdik ng mga sangkap sa kimchi.
A food offering may thus share blessings.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Kuwento ng panganay
“JUST a while ago I overheard my boss discussing about cellular phones, the Malaysian corrosion engineer suggested to him to acquire the CPs that Aramco issues for its employees, its very bulky and it has Internet capability very much like a PDA of sort...he stated that our CPs tell us what kind of personality we have...
“If one has a CP that is slim, smallish and stylish then the owner’s either gay or a woman....So I gave a long look at my CP with a wall paper of two of my cats..(I grieve for the loss of my other cat) and a screen saver of a few pictures I have of Joy....This CP is bulky not slim, so that means I’m not gay. It’s stylish yet nearly everything that I need from taking pictures to listening to music is there. Aside from its Wi-Fi system I can have an office right in my pocket....that just means I’m a stylish person and outgoing...may punto yung Arabo ha...
“I also have another CP which I treasure the most as it was the first brought by my own money, aside from being bought by Joy...the Arab stated that when it comes to your things...you have to be very loyal to them as it also tells if you are loyal to someone...I would guess he was pertaining to the significant other...well I treasure my stuff, even though they are old.
“I laughed at the thought of my fellow expats having very slim CPs. These guys are highly skilled people, they really get down and dirty....I can’t say some of them are gay...ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, no put down intended as I also have gay acquaintances...ha-ha-ha.
“I expect the mirasol over Marduk’s grave to grow so at least I can see where my cat lies...what about my Bonyat? How is he doing?...If there are new kittens and if it’s a white colored she-kitten...akin na ‘yun ha....for sure sa lineage ni Shampoo that kitten would turn out to have blue eyes.... “
Kuwenta ng amang Kulamnista:
Madalas na masabi sa mga katoto na kung nais nilang magpadala ng kalatas, itali sa paa ng free range chicken saka ipahatid—na may kasamang luya, bawang, mantika, hilaw na papaya’t santungkos na talbos ng sili. O kung talagang kailangang maipahatid at maipabatid agad ang kalatas, sunugin ang Bureau of Customs, Kamara, Senado’t Malacañang (tiyakin lang na walang makakawala na animal habang nasusunog ang mga naturan)… ‘kako’y madali namang matutunan ang smoke signals na ginagamit noon pa man sa pakikipagpalitan ng kalatas.
Katotong Dennis Fetalino ang nagpumilit na bigyan ako ng CP 3310 model, talampakan sa kapayakan na kapag inagaw, babalikan ako ng umagaw para bigyan ng pambili ng mas mahal. Bigay pati patak-patak na load. Para mahagilap daw ako’t mayakag sa mga lakad… Bundok Giting-giting sa kanilang lalawigan ang pakay ko, engkantado tulad ng Makiling at Vavilov biodiversity center din.
Iginiit ko na noon na meron na ‘kong CP na may tatlong nunal o taling sa dulo. Erection 66010 that really connects people and such a model betrays a kindly personality.
It was drilled into my cranium to treat the assault weapon issued to me then as my own wife. Pero kahit na ano’ng tingin talaga, hindi katakam-takam at lalong hindi makakangkang, madiwara pa o sobrang bungangera. Naibenta ko.
CPs and assault rifles, my pair of butterfly knives—baling sungay, folded horns which ought to, as your boss’s try at hermeneutics has it, confirm my horniness kept in check—are tools. Adjuncts they are, extensions of certain body parts and competencies. The rifle extends one’s sense of perspective. A CP fans out a sense of touch. And with it we can keep in touch or get a thorough kneading, sangkatutak na lamutak katulad nitong kahindik-hindik na naganap sa “Hello Garci!” na narinig sa buong daigdig.
I may be wrong but such adjuncts can extend one’s built-in inanities, stupidity, and nonsense.
Bonyat’s still a picky eater, won’t touch pandesal so like Shampoo who won’t eat sardines.
“If one has a CP that is slim, smallish and stylish then the owner’s either gay or a woman....So I gave a long look at my CP with a wall paper of two of my cats..(I grieve for the loss of my other cat) and a screen saver of a few pictures I have of Joy....This CP is bulky not slim, so that means I’m not gay. It’s stylish yet nearly everything that I need from taking pictures to listening to music is there. Aside from its Wi-Fi system I can have an office right in my pocket....that just means I’m a stylish person and outgoing...may punto yung Arabo ha...
“I also have another CP which I treasure the most as it was the first brought by my own money, aside from being bought by Joy...the Arab stated that when it comes to your things...you have to be very loyal to them as it also tells if you are loyal to someone...I would guess he was pertaining to the significant other...well I treasure my stuff, even though they are old.
“I laughed at the thought of my fellow expats having very slim CPs. These guys are highly skilled people, they really get down and dirty....I can’t say some of them are gay...ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, no put down intended as I also have gay acquaintances...ha-ha-ha.
“I expect the mirasol over Marduk’s grave to grow so at least I can see where my cat lies...what about my Bonyat? How is he doing?...If there are new kittens and if it’s a white colored she-kitten...akin na ‘yun ha....for sure sa lineage ni Shampoo that kitten would turn out to have blue eyes.... “
Kuwenta ng amang Kulamnista:
Madalas na masabi sa mga katoto na kung nais nilang magpadala ng kalatas, itali sa paa ng free range chicken saka ipahatid—na may kasamang luya, bawang, mantika, hilaw na papaya’t santungkos na talbos ng sili. O kung talagang kailangang maipahatid at maipabatid agad ang kalatas, sunugin ang Bureau of Customs, Kamara, Senado’t Malacañang (tiyakin lang na walang makakawala na animal habang nasusunog ang mga naturan)… ‘kako’y madali namang matutunan ang smoke signals na ginagamit noon pa man sa pakikipagpalitan ng kalatas.
Katotong Dennis Fetalino ang nagpumilit na bigyan ako ng CP 3310 model, talampakan sa kapayakan na kapag inagaw, babalikan ako ng umagaw para bigyan ng pambili ng mas mahal. Bigay pati patak-patak na load. Para mahagilap daw ako’t mayakag sa mga lakad… Bundok Giting-giting sa kanilang lalawigan ang pakay ko, engkantado tulad ng Makiling at Vavilov biodiversity center din.
Iginiit ko na noon na meron na ‘kong CP na may tatlong nunal o taling sa dulo. Erection 66010 that really connects people and such a model betrays a kindly personality.
It was drilled into my cranium to treat the assault weapon issued to me then as my own wife. Pero kahit na ano’ng tingin talaga, hindi katakam-takam at lalong hindi makakangkang, madiwara pa o sobrang bungangera. Naibenta ko.
CPs and assault rifles, my pair of butterfly knives—baling sungay, folded horns which ought to, as your boss’s try at hermeneutics has it, confirm my horniness kept in check—are tools. Adjuncts they are, extensions of certain body parts and competencies. The rifle extends one’s sense of perspective. A CP fans out a sense of touch. And with it we can keep in touch or get a thorough kneading, sangkatutak na lamutak katulad nitong kahindik-hindik na naganap sa “Hello Garci!” na narinig sa buong daigdig.
I may be wrong but such adjuncts can extend one’s built-in inanities, stupidity, and nonsense.
Bonyat’s still a picky eater, won’t touch pandesal so like Shampoo who won’t eat sardines.
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