mini-thoughts after my hiatus

thanks to all who have been for praying for my sister. i was telling her, in room 6 of north 6 surgical oncology ward of the robert wood johnson hospital in new brunswick, that of all the patients being operated on last monday, she was the one most drenched in prayers. the next day after the surgery, i was surprised to see her being able to sit up and move her arms a bit. it wasn't really that difficult being her on-call "nurse" at the hospital because all i had to do then was order her food, help her stand up to go to the bathroom, drain the blood being collected from the tube on her surgery site[okay, for the squeamish, that last part might be hard to visualize. sorry.] now while she's home my duties are more varied. aside from the draining, i prepare her in-the-bedroom meals, remind her to take her meds, shampoo her hair [and blowdry it], and watch tv with her--with the last being the easiest task. no sweat, really. :)

* * * * * * * * * *

the number of goods, products and services here in the US is overwhelming. when we go to the grocery, i walk the aisles and see every product imaginable. i turn on the tv and aside from the QTV channel offering things from acne treatment to jewelry, i also see lawyers advertising their services. one in particular ended his spiel with these words: "get all the money you deserve." seriously. oh man, filipino lawyers would have a field day here.

* * * * * * * * * *

i still do some cooking here whenever i get the chance. just this lunchtime, i cooked the leftover crabs from yesterday and turned it into an crab/red pepper omelette. what i'm missing is baking though. you don't need to go to a bakeshop to buy cakes here. so there's really not much motivation to make one from scratch. what about fish? you can't see fish with their eyes on here. [well, technically, most fish on the frozen meat section are fillets, so what they're actually missing are the heads]. crazy what i notice.

the people? most people here are nice. especially those who might feel you need them to be extra clear about what they're saying lest you don't understand english. "No ingrish.me japanese.moshi-moshi," but they won't buy it. my eyes aren't chinky enough.

Look, it's a bird

Ian, 7, is doing his assignment. He asks me for words starting with letter Q and I almost told him, "Come back to me when you get to letter S."

Queen. Check, he got that one already.
Quota. No, too complicated. He doesn't know what it means.
Quail. Yes, that could work.

And then I spell it out for him. Q-U-A-I-L.

What's that Tita Beng, is that a bird or a noun? (Or so I heard. I'm blaming it on jetlag. And I think I slept a million braincells to oblivion.)

It's a bird, Ian. It's a bird.

No, Tita Beng. Is it a VERB or a noun?

(I laugh out loud and think, what good is it to have an editor aunt to teach you when she can't hear you?)

Here's another Q word. Q-tips, or in the Philippines, cottonbuds.

friendly fat detectors

I run into him every now and then. At the hallway, near the employee's entrance, in the bookstore. And just by the way he looks at me, I can sense how I'm tipping the [weighing] scale.

More than a few times already, he has verbalized his disappointment. Just this week, while I was walking towards a palette in our bookstore, he emerges from the door of the Sales department. For one split second our eyes lock. And then I get the look. He's not smiling. There goes my cue to confirm my worst fears:

"Why you looking at me like that, Kuya Jo? I'm getting fat?"

This fortysomething father of three doesn't even pause for a second to feign politeness. He answers, complete with a playful nod, "Yes, Beng. You better..." and then wags his index finger at me, as if warning me that the world is about to end.

I let out a laugh, not a bit hurt. Alarmed, maybe, but not hurt.

There are officemates who act as my fat detectors. They tell me if I'm getting fat or I'm getting thin, if I look fresh or harassed. But not one of them has actually pulled me to a corner and has given me a detailed lecture on the virtues of effective weight management. All most of them do is engage in light-hearted banters with me. No offense is ever taken. While Americans talk about the weather, we Filipinos talk about weight. Funny how we greet another whom we haven't seen in a while: "Uy, parang tumaba/pumayat ka ah!" Say that to a British and you'll be committing a faux pas that will make even your dog blush.

We Filipinos can take it. Just today I overheard a conversation between an old man and a middle-aged woman, former officemates: "Uy, parang tumaba ka nang konti ah," he comments to her. "Naku, Kuya, di lang konti. Madami!" she answers with a smile on her face. Score 1 for total honesty.

As for me, when I get an in-my-face-weight-reading I think: What do I need a weighing scale for? I can get free head-to-toe evaluation just by walking around the four floors of our office. Amusing, really. I love my officemates.

I'm never trading any of my friendly fat detectors for the high-priced talking weighing scales peddled in stores. For with the latter, I couldn't talk back and argue my case. With the former, I can smile my way to thinness.

three wishes

A genie granted a man three wishes.

“My first wish, I want a million dollars.”

POOF! A million dollars appeared.

“For my second wish, I want a Ferrari.”

POOF! A gleaming new Ferrari appeared.

“For my final wish, I want to be irresistible to women.”

POOF! The man became a box of chocolates.

*Are girls the only ones laughing here? ;) Got this funny text from Nechie.

Try lang

Two years na. Two years na akong nagbablog. Para sa entry na ito, naisipan kong magsulat naman sa Tagalog. Baka naman sabihin niyo na sa Inglisera ako sa tutuong buhay. Pero mapapansin ninyo siguro na hindi straight Tagalog ang gagamitin ko. Kasi tayo namang mga Pilipino, di naman talaga tayo ganun magsalita. Maliban na lang kung ang apelyido mo ay Balagtas at may dahon ka sa buhok.

Sa kauna-unahang post ko, inamin kong di ako marunong magbisikleta at lumangoy. Eto ang update: Di pa rin ako marunong. Ewan ko ba, ang dapat ko yatang matutunan ay paano ba tumapang para di na ako matakot magasgasan ng braso sa pagbibisikleta o di matakot na malunod sa paglangoy. Pero sabagay, kailangan ko ba talagang matutunan yung dalawang iyon? Wala naman akong bike at wala naman kaming swimming pool sa bahay. Sabi nga ni Gary V, di bale na lang. At least marunong na akong mag-blog.

Malapit nang mag araw ng mga puso. Bakit ganon? Kung may araw ng mga puso, di ba unfair yun sa baga, atay, at bituka? Importante din naman sila. Sige, try mong ipantanggal kahit isa sa kanila at tingnan natin kung magbirthday ka pa. Di lang nga cute ang shapes nila para ipandecorate sa mga cards at ipanghulma sa mga chocolates. Kahit yata crush ko ang magbigay sa akin ng card na korteng baga, baka di ko ikatuwa. Malamang ang dedication nun, “You’re the reason I breathe.” On the second thought, kung gusto ko pala siya, okay lang iyon.

Nakita ko pala si Michael V two weeks ago sa Podium. I really like his humor. Naka-tshirt at maong lang siya. Simpleng-simple lang ang dating niya kaya halos di ko siya mapansin nang magkasalubong kami. For one second naisip kong magpapicture kasama niya kaso naisip ko, “Beng, nasa Podium ka. Isipin mo na lang artista ka din na nagma-malling.” So ayun, napigilan ko ang sarili ko at ginawa na lang ay magtext sa ilang kaibigan tungkol sa celebrity apparition na nakita ko.

Hanggang dito na lang muna ang Tagalog post ko. Nagkuwento lang po ako, mga kaibigan. I’m not sure if it’ll stay posted here for long. Malamang after ilang days, makornihan ako sa sarili ko at tanggalin ito. But it wouldn’t hurt to try to do this once naman, di ba? Besides, I’m taking my own advice about giving in to some of my impulses or I won’t be able to do it, ever. In this case, writing in our native language. Because for all I know, the desire to do something this unusual will be gone before... I even finish writing this post. There. I’ve just proven myself right. But hey, I enjoyed doing this post somehow. Just like eating cotton candy. No nutritional value but all fun.

nanny duty

Yesterday I clocked out of work on the dot. A more pressing matter was waiting for me at home. Two words: Nanny duty.

But before I boarded the south-bound bus, I swung by 7-11 to buy microwaveable popcorn, the only food specifically requested by one of my wards. Last night was "movie" night and I needed the popcorn to complete the moviehouse effect.

Pong, 6, and Robyn, 4, excitedly greeted me the moment I stepped into the room. By instinct, Pong collects the DVDs for last night’s showing: Chicken Little, Mr Bean, and Justice League.

If you haven't tried watching TV or a movie with kids, you should try it sometime. The entertainment value is upped not by what's on screen but by the reaction of the little creatures beside you who will infect you with their excitement. Pong saw something that made him laugh hard and insisted that I see it. He rewinds the part where a monster-enemy of Justice League spits fire. I didn’t quite get what was amusing about it but I laughed anyway.

Approaching the second hour of my duty, I asked permission from them if I could close my eyes for a while (the three of us were cramped in their parents' bed). Just when I was starting to doze off, Robyn signaled to his brother to tickle me, and thus the source of their delight was transferred from the laptop screen to their helpless half-asleep aunt startled by tiny fingers on her back. The next time I tried to steal a nap, a feather duster was brushed over my neck seconds after I closed my eyes.

I wave the white flag in surrender. No nanny can sleep with two precocious boys on her watch. Boys, in general, are probably harder to entertain than girls. For the next hour or so, they wrestled and I refereed. They played Chuzzle and Zuma and I coached. They worked on their coloring books and I gushed.

Last night I hit the bed with a sense of satisfaction for a job well done. No, not for the nine hours I logged in at work editing books. More for the three-and-a-half hours I spent keeping my two nephews entertained. I might not have been paid a single cent but I won’t hesitate on saying it’s one of the best jobs in the world.

the curse of being an Eve

I start this post with no idea how it's going to end. My only motivation for blogging tonight is the thought that visited me this afternoon while enduring mild stomach cramps.

Salty. I need to eat something salty. Oh, the curse of being an Eve!

Do men ever get stabbed by out-of-nowhere desire for something salty, spicy or sweet? Do they ever get especially touchy and irritable some days of the month for no particular reason at all--with life being presumably normal? Did Adam ever tell Eve, "Oh honey, I'm depressed. Cain and Abel are fighting, and the stress is showing on my skin. I'm going to go out for a while and have a haircut. Maybe it'll make me feel better"?

Shopping--another estrogen-propelled instinct. We women have a shopping chip embedded in our pituitary gland that the scientists have long ignored or dismissed only as a potentially hazardous quirk. In fact, it was activated the moment the first female strolled in the lush garden named Eden. She might have whispered to herself after one lunch, "All Adam ever gives me is this fruit to eat. Maybe I should go and inspect the trees and see what other fruit varieties look and taste good (the shopping instinct kicks in for the first time)." Enter the serpent, the smooth-talking salesman with a tongue of poison who lured Eve into thinking she was getting a good deal with another fruit. Eve, as we all know, got a rotten fruit and a rotten deal.

The consequences of the first sin aside, my point here is why we women like shopping. We are inclined to do it in the same way, say, men are inclined to eat voraciously(or replace italicized word with another male-specific activity that might fit). I realized I have this shopping chip real bad just recently. While strolling with another Eve in Glorieta one night, I suggested we head to Breadtalk. She asks, "Are you buying?" "No," I answer. "I just want to see the breads." Seriously.

Window-shopping for breads? Uhm, yes, but they're nice-looking breads! And they smell good and I like cooking and...I'm full. I don't want to buy any. I just want to look at the breads (You can stop shaking your head in disbelief now. Just imagine I'm window-shopping for shoes).

Before this deteriorates into becoming a completely useless post, let me tell you what's difficult about being an Eve, biblically speaking:

"To the woman he [God] said, 'I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to your children. Your desire will be for your husband and he will rule over you. (Genesis 3:16)'"

Most women generally find their value in relationships than in their achievements. A woman feels most fulfilled when she's beside her man, or while caring for her kids, or while nurturing any other human being, for that matter. And this is what's hard about being an Eve: When she sometimes feels a longing for Adam and she doesn't know where he is.

cakes and closets

Last night, at Mexicali's, I had a cute Goldilocks' chocolate mousse courtesy of my DG--savvy group of women whom I meet at least twice in a month to learn and have fun with (two of them are in the US right now, enjoying their first White Christmas). They surprised me with a 5-day early birthday celebration.

Before giving me their words of encouragement, we shared what about our lives this coming year would we like to change. If our lives were a closet, what would we discard? Are there any paradigm shifts we'd like to make? While one spoke of trying to rid herself of flab (which is hardly noticeable I'm suspecting it might be imaginary), another spoke of taking more risks and developing herself in other areas of interest. She is, after all, more than a number cruncher. She is a music lover who will finally buy guitar and teach herself how to play it (Go for it, girl!).

No more guilt in saying No. This is what I had to say. If you knew me, you'd know that if you asked me to cross over a high wire, I won't say No. I'd say, "Give me time, I'll learn it." But from now on, I don't have to worry myself to death about pleasing every one. I have this dress patterned after paranoia and I'm taking it out of my rack. Another piece of clothing I don't want to wear anymore is the pants of pragmatism. Between trusting God and doing something to solve my problems, the former doesn't always win. I can get pretty impatient waiting for God to work and answer my prayer that sometimes I'd rather find the answer myself. And I thought I had the gift of faith.

I'll be updating my wardrobe. Next year, I'd wear more pinks than blues, more reds than blacks. I just hope those colors fit me. *wink*

three stanzas for sophia

Don’t grow up so fast, little girl

And miss out on all the fun

Take time to twist and twirl

And enjoy playing under the sun

Don’t grow up so fast, delicate one

The world is your playground

Go out—hop, jump and run!

Delight in everything you see around

Don’t grow up so fast, lovely baby

Let the make-up and high heels wait

Wear bows and dresses, all pink and frilly

Live each day and learn love, hope and faith

[Picture taken yesterday during Sophia's first birthday party that her parents, Reggie and Chayen, lavishly gave her. This just-awakened butterfly is my first niece.]

5 Things You Might Not Know About Me*

*I got tagged by Bituing Marikit. So here's my list of 5 things:

Naps, no problem!
I am a no-sweat sleeper. In fact, I can catch a quick nap while riding any moving vehicle--plane,bus,jeep,tricycle. These naps can be deep that I'd even get dreams.

Could you answer this, please?
I love asking questions, not all of them serious. My other questions could range from the practical to the absurd. Spend a day with me and you're bound to discover this quirk of mine.

"Allergic" to IV
I haven't spent the night in a hospital as a patient (that is, aside from when I and my twin brother were born prematurely one Christmas day many years ago). IV fluid has never passed through my veins.

For love or money?
Some people have half-seriously suggested that I put up a restaurant. With a smile, I've answered, "I will only cook for love, and not money." :)

Can't resist quick wit and intelligent humor
I like Billy Crystal. I can still remember one of the earliest movies of him I watched, "Throw Momma from the Train"--an underrated but very funny movie with a crazy plot. Wait, there's another funny person I like: Steve Martin. I don't enjoy slapstick but enjoy humor that would tickle my brain and my funny bone too.

Now, I tag Gypsy, Jen, Reigne, Swipe and Nechie.

Rainy Saturday

Pong bended the blinds strip and saw it raining hard outside. Bored of watching TV with me and his younger brother Robyn, he wanted to stretch his muscles and play basketball in the garage.

“Ay, umuulan. Gusto ko pa naman play ng basketball.”

There was a tinge of disappointment in his voice. His babysitting aunt (i.e. me), wishing for a streak of color to brighten up this gray Saturday, had a quick thought. I heard the words stumble out of my mouth before the rational part of me reasoned against the idea.

“Gusto mo maligo sa labas?”

It was like asking a chocoholic if he wanted a bar of Toblerone. His face lighted up and he loudly replied, “Sige!” When it registered to the mind of 3-year-old Robyn what would soon be happening, the excitement immediately rubbed on him.

And so outside we went—They, half-naked, with only their shorts on, and I, uhm, well, let me just say I “dressed for the occasion” too. Robyn opened his mouth wide and turned his head up, drinking the water from the sky. Pong dribbled the basketball and made more than a few successful shots. Seeing me by the side, they cajoled me into joining them where all the action was happening. They passed me the ball and watched me fumble with it (I’m no match for them but I think they were happy just to see me try.)

Soon, the heavy rain started to turn into a drizzle.

“O, pag tumigil na ulan, pasok na tayo ha.”

“Bakit wala nang rain, Tita Beng?”

Chuckling, all the answer I could muster was, “Eh wala na eh. Sige pray kayo na mag-rain pa.”

Little Robyn folded his hands and followed my advice, “Loooord, tenk yu por dis fud…”

My chuckle turned to laughter. Meanwhile, Pong’s contribution was an adaptation of a popular children’s rhyme. He sang,“Sun, sun, go away, come again another day. Little boy wants to play…”

But then all good things must come to an end. Finally, I convinced them that our time's up. I dried their feet and we headed towards the shower where they imagined they were still outside, playing in the rain.

There are some seemingly irrational things we adults shouldn't mind doing: Eating dirty ice cream in the street where our officemates might see us. Risking looking silly (don a giant goldfish costume, anyone?) in the name of good fun. And playing in the rain with kids. It's refreshing to revive the body; much more refreshing to revive the soul.

Ever lost a library book?

Having my cake (and eating it too!)

I’ve have always wondered out loud to some friends how having an ordinary-day birthday must feel like. And so last night, they decided to put an end to my wondering. Several friends from the professionals group I am involved in gave me a surprise treat and asked me to imagine that yesterday was my birthday and not sixteen days ago, Christmas day.

All elements that make up a celebration were there. A banner, decorated with small balloons, posted on the wall reads my name as the celebrant. Gifts in red wrappers revealed sleep-themed surprises. A lone candle atop a tiny but delicious chocolate cake heard my secret wish when I blew out its flame.

The small room at IO in Jupiter (the street, not the planet) became the virtual stage where we sang songs for more than four hours. If not for the fact that it was a Tuesday, that we had offices to report to the next day, we would have sung until the computer processing the songs broke down or we lost our voices—whichever came first.

Yes, we left no song unsung, no nacho uneaten. The stress from the hard day’s work was melted by the sweet but powerful concoction of laughter and music. I thank God for good times. And friends. Friends, whom I consider angels on covert assignment, can decorate our lives in a way no accolade or treasure can.

Life is not a piece of cake. But some days, it sure tastes like it—and a birthday cake at that.

Planting a Legacy

I just planted a tree--well, two trees to be exact--last Saturday. Together with a third of my officemates, we embarked on a three-hour trip to San Miguel, Bulacan where we all desperately wished we had a green thumb. With a theme, “Planting Roots, Shading Generations” (a spoof of our corporate theme, “Publishing Truth. Shaping Generations.”), we broke the hard ground, dug holes, mashed soil, carried seedlings by their trunks, watered the ground, and planted mahogany and coconut seedlings.

The last time I displayed my agricultural skills was for a gardening class when I was in Grade six. If my memory serves me right, I together with my groupmates, planted tomato and okra seeds. Did our project “grow”? I can't remember but all I know is that we passed! Now if we planted mangoes, my favorite fruit, I would have checked on our lot everyday.I am not sure how many years it’ll take for the two mahogany seedlings with my name on them to grow. But this I know, with a little help from the sun and rain and the God of all creation, not too long. I can wait. Among many roles, this booklover-cum-treeplanter is also a tree-waiter.

Thinking of Seven

Seven things that scare me
1. Getting a really bad haircut
2. Mice / rats
3. Offending people, especially those who mean a lot to me
4. Missing a deadline/failing at my responsibilities
5. Losing my students’ respect because of a bad choice(I teach a College Sunday School class)
6. Reckless driving (that’s why I don’t drive)
7. Breaking God’s heart

Seven things I like the most
1. Talking with my nephews
2. Reading a good book in my bed, on the bus, in front of a hotsprings in Banaue (anywhere, actually!)
3. Watching a good movie
4. The privilege of making a difference through what I do
5. Making people smile/laugh
6. Having unhurried, meaningful conversations with friends (usually one-on-one)
7. Listening to music

Seven important things in my room
1. Bed
2. TV
3. Pillows
4. CD player/radio
5. Books
6. Drawers where I keep all my stuff
7. Me when I’m inside(Hehe!)

Seven random facts about me
1. Kabalo ako mag-Bisaya, di ako mabaligya
2. I share a Christmas birthday with a twin brother
3. I enjoy surprising people with unexpected treats
4. I’m nocturnal but not insomniac
5. When I order chicken, I specify to give me any part except the leg (ma-masel kasi. Lagi kasing naglalakad ang chicken. Explain ko na lang sa inyo ng personal kung gusto ninyo)
6. I can delay gratification
7. I can trust God even when things do not make sense

Seven things I plan to do before I die
1. Join the Palanca and win
2. Take a short course at a culinary school
3. Love like I have never loved before
4. Have a family and put my cooking, budgeting, child-rearing and other skills to use
5. Tell all my loved ones about Jesus
6. Go to Israel and see where Jesus walked
7. Discover all I could about God and give Him all the love, praise, service I am able to give

Seven things I can do
1. Sing
2. Cook
3. Teach
4. Use different voices when storytelling to kids
5. Risk looking silly just to have fun (I once made and wore a giant watermelon slice costume during our fun night in our company retreat!)
6. Go to an unfamiliar place on my own
7. Be faithful to God, my calling, the one I will choose to love

Seven things I can’t do
1. Act
2. Bike
3. Dance
4. Drive (I can drive pala but I won't)
5. Swim
6. Eat balut
7. Deliberately disobey God

Seven things that attract me to the opposite sex
1. Love for God
2. Strength of character
3. Ability to communicate
4. Gentleness and kindness
5. Sense of purpose
6. Wit
7. Hair

Seven things I say the most
1. Talaga?
2. Shocks!
3. Ngii!
4. Kiss muna! (said only to my nephews. Well, at least, for now. Hehe!)
5. Gusto mo ng ________ (fill in the blank with whatever I have at the moment)?
6. OK lang
7. Yaiiks!

Seven celebrity crushes
1. Philip Yancey (What a brain!)
2. Jim Elliot (kaya lang patay na siya. Pero gusto ko pa rin siya, based on what his wife tells about him)
3. Jerry Yan (kaya lang di ko siya maintindihan)
4. Piolo Pascual (kaya lang di siya book reader)
5. Steve Martin (he’s so funny!)
6. Beast of Beauty and the Beast (I love the way he shed off his rough exterior, figuratively, and loved her)
7. Donald Duck (just to make a list of seven)

Seven people I want to take this quiz
1. Gina
2. Jenny
3. Karina
4. Pstr. Bong
5. Nechie
6. Olive
7. Anjou

To Ivy and Aleks, I had a great time reading your lists (and learning more about you) too!:-)

Girls' Talk

My throat is still sore. I blame it not on a virus but on my XX chromosomes.

Sugarhouse Megamall, August 4; 6 pm. I take the table by the glass wall and wait patiently for one of my closest friends since college whom I’ll identify as Girl 1. She arrives after several minutes and the talkathon officially starts. She is still as cute and as effusive as I remember her to be. A working mom, she tells me how she has been looking forward to this long-delayed get-together. I think I haven't seen her in a year! Only after seeing her did I realize how much I missed her too.

Her husband follows her shortly. We exchanged how-are-yous and the husband-and-wife team tells me how family life is. I tell them a little about my life but keep from talking about myself too much. Between spoonfuls of our rice meals, we talk about career and health issues. Other friends and each others’ parents and siblings.

After the husband reached his quota of 200 words, he excused himself and let his wife and me use our remaining 2,250 (a conservative estimate, really). By 8 pm, the third member of our 4-member peer group, whom I’ll identify as Girl 2, shows up. She was initially non-committal about the meeting but decided to surprise us by dropping by. Halfway through her mango torte, she laments about her LQ with her boyfriend. We listen and give not-so-few unsolicited advice.

We could have put Boy Abunda and Kris Aquino to shame with our endless chatter. In fact, the other diners have already left! The waiters putting up the chairs and clearing the tables give us the cue that we should be going. And so we stand and leave. But not yet for home.

From Sugarhouse, we turn left and walk towards the parking area. When we get there, the three of us search for Girl 1’s silver car. After five minutes, which seemed like eternity, the case of the missing car remains unsolved.

Girl 2: "Saan ka ba nagpark?"
Girl 1: "Mega A. Mega A ito, di ba?"
Beng: "Hmmm...Di ko sure."
(The three of us go back inside the mall to consider the situation.)
Girl 2 to security guard: "Manong, ano po ba ito, Mega A or Mega B?"
Security guard: "Mega B po."
Girl 1: "Sure kayo?"
Beng: "Malamang sure siya. Dito siya nagtratrabaho eh.:-)"

We just laugh the whole thing off. We take easy strides from Mega B to Mega A while, yes, talking. After finally finding the car, we speed off to Racks in El Pueblo. Over fried chicken and potato wedges, our talk turns to relationships and expectations, boundaries and friendships. Funny experiences and beauty tips.

It’s fun being a girl and having the excuse to talk non-stop with friends. Good for the heart but bad for the throat. :-)

Ice Cream Day

Yesterday was a record-breaking day for me: Ate four flavors of ice cream in three separate occasions. Two cones of Arce’s Chunky Chocolate ice cream traipsed by my lips immediately after lunch, a treat from a teammate who celebrated her first year at work. To my delight, two hours later, two other flavors, Selecta’s Coffee Crunch and Double Dutch waltzed into my afternoon, ushered by an officemate who leaped from probationary to regular employment. Magnolia's Mango ice cream on top of a crepe, meanwhile, swayed and sashayed its way into my night at Café Breton, shared with another officemate who recently turned a year lovelier.

No one can possibly be sad while eating ice cream. Or one who was initially depressed will turn less somber while the cold creamy drop of heaven melts in his mouth, forcing his cheek muscles to spread into a smile. Ice cream invokes feelings of happiness, signals a celebration, and breaks down defenses. For who can stay angry with someone who feeds him ice cream? I say, take out the scoops and let the whole planet enjoy ice cream. And have marshmallows, chocolate sprinkles, nuts and world peace as toppings.

Ice cream, anyone?

- - - - - - - - -

Incidentally, I'm currently reading Billy Sprague's Ice Cream as a Clue to the Meaning of the Universe. Here's a quote:

Life is a journey toward eternal delight. It is a bittersweet recipe for a delicious future that first requires crushing, sacrifice and dying. At all levels, atomic to cosmic, the universe is spinning. We are being turned and blended, prepared for eternity with The Maker in whose presence is a fountain of endless pleasures.

Here, for now, we may taste the diluted hint of the paradise frost that awaits us. There, we will savor fully even as we are fully savored. And in that place, you will taste the ice cream and the ice cream will set you free.

An afternoon with Chayen and Robin Padilla

My youngest sister Chayen is back in the house--at least for two days and two nights. With her husband Regie away for a planning in Baguio, she decided to sleep in her old bed and stay in her old room, pre-Mrs. Emperado days.

Part of our mid-morning conversation went like this:

Chayen: Pasok na lang kaya ako sa office? Ang init dito eh.
Beng: Ha? Sabado, pasok ka? Wag na. Punta na lang tayo SM.
Chayen: Wala akong pera eh. Libre mo ko?
Beng: Alam mo, mas makakatulong ka sa kumpanya mo kapag pumasok ka.

Of course, I was joking and she knew it. After my laughter subsided, I suggested we watch a movie. Starwars? No, she had another movie in mind.

La Visa Loca. With no expectations at all about the movie, I was surprisingly entertained by it. An effective satire of the Filipino people and culture, it was thought-provoking. The dialogues were crisp and natural; the plot, believable. Robin Padilla didn’t seem like he was acting; he was Jess, the dutiful-son-cum-driver-cum-aspiring-US-nursing-aide. La Visa Loca, self-tagged as an intelligent comedy, lived up to its assertion. I was laughing so loud in one hilarious scene, Chayen felt embarrassed for me.

But much as I enjoyed watching Robin Padilla, I enjoyed spending time with Chayen even more. The afternoon ended with me becoming a few hundred pesos poorer. But it was but a small investment for etching one priceless memory.

Kiping Up with the Tagalogs

For a day, no rainbow appeared anywhere in the world. All rainbows were bottled, shipped to a small town in Quezon, mixed with ground rice, pressed against leaves then left to dry in the sun to make kiping! These kipings were then used to decorate houses, sold as food (Inihaw or fried kiping, anyone?) or fashioned into fans. It was May 15—the best day this year to be in Lukban. So I and eight officemates crammed in a van and sped off south of Manila to experience for the first time the sensational Pahiyas festival.

Here are three of the many facts I learned from my two-day escapade:
1 Hospitality is always in season.
Locals will let strangers in their house if the latter would like to have their picture taken by the second floor window.
2 The richness of Tagalog is amazing in this part of the world.
Overheard: “Aba’y wag ka diyan sa init ng araw. Lulutong ka.”; “Ikaw lang ang umiinom diyan. Mang-akit ka naman.”
3 Pinoy creativity knows no bounds.
Among the many eye candies I saw: improvised waterfalls adorning a two-storey house; ladies in parade wearing colorful banig gowns accentuated with beads and seeds; kiping flowers and butterflies making up an artificial yet attractive garden; pig being roasted by a mannequin (with the help of an automatic pole-turner attached to the skewer).

Bathing in the sun’s ultraviolet rays turned my skin two shades darker (I now have three skin tones: Original, Banaue brown, Lukban dark brown). Yet it was a small price to pay for kiping up with the Tagalogs.


Kiping me company:(Bottom L-R) Analyn, Lea, Aileen, Ferdie, Gladys, Grasya, Ivy (Not in pix, Kuya Jun)

Warm Company in Cool Baguio

One weekend. Two days, no fixed agenda.

These no-agenda days don’t come too often for me lately. The last time I was out of town, it was for our retreat when, even if I had some relaxing days, I had some work to do. So when it was time for our long-planned getaway, I didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. Excited or uneasy? I couldn’t tell. With my backpack strapped over my shoulders, I nonchalantly boarded the midnight-trip bus to Baguio.It has been a long day. I’m quite tired, Lord. Please help me get some rest.

(Little did I know that God’s answer would come in the form of verbs.)
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14 verbs in 2 days:

Feel the breeze in Mines View Park. Check out the souvenir shops. Go to the Botanical Garden. See Camp John Hay. Walk through Manor hotel grounds. Take pictures. Pose for pictures. Eat. Play Taboo and Pictionary. Watch DVDs. Sleep. Attend the Bread of Life Worship service. Eat some more. Laugh hard.
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I didn’t think I would enjoy this two-day vacation as much as I did. In the cool Baguio air, I was warmed by the company of friends. Up in the summer capital of our country, God reminded me that He is not a stern drill sergeant who only takes pleasure in seeing His subordinates follow His orders. Rather, He is a loving Father who smiles when He sees His children in play and fun. And did I have 100% fun. Absolutely no work required.