kamias

wet and white

i've always enjoyed walking. it not only shakes the fat cells off of me, it also clears my head. i love the feel of the wind (or dust, for that matter) in my face. relaxing.

walking towards the tryke station this morning, i saw an unattended kakanin (native delicacies) stall on wheels parked in front of the police station. looking to my far left, i saw it's owner. he was taking a leak. as i neared his stall, he smiled and and said, "miss, kalamay (rice cake)?"

uhm... thank you very much, but no. i would rather not.

when i got off at the corner of the street adjacent to the office, i saw a dog sitting beside a cat, obviously sunning themselves. i smiled and said aloud, "you... you're friends with that cat?"

i see a lot of things when i am using my feet. things that usually goes unnoticed when i'm riding in a car. for fun, i have walked from avenida to taft avenue. but the longest distance i have covered is walking from sangandaan (in caloocan) to sta. ana (manila). in the rain... in my white uniform... wading through flood waters that reached up to my thighs.

i was a PT student then. classes had been suspended at around 11:30 am (right after my last subject) due to a typhoon. i had no idea that public transport disappears around that area when floodwaters rise. i decided to walk. most of the commuters were walking, too. we looked like we're in a procession.

when i reached blumentritt my shoes were already drenched and heavy so i bought a pair of rubber slippers. i stopped every now and then and marveled at the variety of things that were spread out for sale along the sidewalks. the array of native lechon (roasted pig) skewered by bamboos, vegetables, fruits, kitchen tools, plastic wares, toys, handicrafts... i even saw items i could not find in supermarkets or mall stores.

getting to united nations avenue, i was surprised to see that we do have baobab trees. lined along the street were about three or four of them. not as tall or as big as the ones i saw on the net, but lovely anyway. from blumentritt to taft avenue, i strolled under the LRT trail, smiling at other students who were as soaked as i was.

when i reached home, my sore feet had open blisters all over. it took me about three days before i could wear shoes again, but it was fun.

what's with the bee, ayeliti?

she was about five months old the first time we brought her to jollibee, in paco. i remember her two lower front teeth weren't even showing yet.

what puzzles me after that first encounter is her reaction each time we pass by any jollibee outlet. her face would break into a smile, and laughing, she would raise her hands as if trying to reach the bee mascot.

she shows no such reaction with mcdonald's, though. everytime we bring her with us, she would be looking intently out the window. my guess would be, little ayel is looking for jollibee outlets and of course, the big bee.

i really have no inkling why. i will keep in mind to ask her when she's older.

brownies

i made a tray of fudge brownies today. while i was cutting it into squares, a particular young boy came to mind. i do not know his name... all i can remember was how he looked that day, eleven years ago.

it was a saturday. R's dad and i were in megamall to do some shopping but before we did, we decided to have a bite at the basement fastfood area first. as we were coming out, i saw the brownie store and thought of buying some for our son R who stayed behind.

waiting for my change, a young boy of about 10 or 11 stood right next to me, eyeing the brownies on display at the glass counter. he was counting the coins in his hands -- he had, i think a total of PhP1.75, in 25-centavo coins. i glanced at him and noticed the bulky backpack he was carrying. he was wearing tight-fitting jeans, a tee shirt underneath a checkered short-sleeved polo shirt which is much too small for his already small frame.

as the brownie girl was handing my change and receipt, the young boy signaled to her that he wanted a brownie. he was holding up a 25-centavo coin. i walked ahead.

after a few steps, i looked back and watched the boy at the counter, his arms still holding out the coin, i presume. the brownie girl was shaking her head. i told R's dad to stop for a moment and i turned back. touching the young boy on the shoulder, i asked what brownie flavors he wanted -- he selected two. i told the brownie girl that i am paying for it and could she please wrap them for the boy.

as soon the brownie girl handed him the package, he started walking away while tearing the plastic open. then he started eating. i looked at the brownie girl -- she was looking at me, smiling. i smiled back.

as we were walking towards the supermarket, i thought about the boy. i did not even see his face.

revisiting places

i am one of the most sentimental people i know -- sentimental but not overly emotional. oh, but i do cry at movies sometimes... magnifico for one, left me sniffling towards the end. i treasure my memories, all of them. even those that rendered me utterly pathetic.

ever since my granddaughter ayel came into our life, i kept asking myself if i had been a good mom to R. my answer is, i could've done better. instead of worrying too much about him not having enough sleep, i could've let him stay awake and played with him. instead of spending too much time tidying and cleaning the house, i could've spent it with him.

sure, his dad and i took him places. everywhere we went, we brought him along. even if i had to do the grocery shopping alone i always took R with me. i also didn't want a nanny for for my son then so i took care of him myself. still, i believe i could've done better.

i guess i was too uptight then -- a young and inexperienced first time mom wanting to do everything the way i was told it should be. what i should've done was listened and followed my instincts, too. the way a mom does.

with little ayel, i am relaxed and flexible. who cares if she turns the house upside down? i've stopped being too uptight about the house being clean and orderly -- it is our home, not a department store where everything should be in place all the time. who cares if i go to work with eyebags from sleeping late? ayel kept us awake, so we played with her and we had fun.

watching her makes me soppy. i am going through mixed emotions about wanting her to remain just as she is now for a wee bit longer while at the same time wishing for her to grow up soon enough so we can take her places.

i do not wish to replace my memories, i am just making new ones. pretty much like a tree that keeps branching out and sprouting greener leaves. smiles... tears... laughter... surprise... joy & excitement... i want ours to be filled with those and more.

i am retracing steps i took with R, but this time, i am taking his little girl with me. together, we'll revisit places on foot and by heart.

once upon a tree swing

our old house was built in the middle of a large lot with wide open spaces allowing for trees and flowering plants all around the yard -- santol, mango, star apple and nganga (beetlenut). the backyard, aside from being used as a laundry area was a small vegetable garden. at the far end was an outhouse/bathroom with a humongous banga (earthen jar) for water.

never having been allowed to go out without an adult companion, i could not even play in front of the cyclone wires (held by metal pipes for support) that used to be our yard fence. they had their reasons. unknown to them were instances though, when i would slip out and walk in the rain with my umbrella and little basket.

so there i used to be -- at times playing with bessie (our great dane)... chasing the geese and the ducks around the yard... watching the hantiks (large, red ants) who made their homes out of the leaves of the santol and mango trees... but mostly it was just me playing by myself.

when i was about 5 years old, my grandpa made a tree swing just for me. he came home from batangas one day with a thick slab of wood. he bored two holes on two side edges of the slab and tied it to a sturdy branch of the mango tree by an anchor's rope. in no time i was swinging away.

when i am not in my favorite place at the window sill, i would be under the mango tree swinging for hours. often, the hantiks would find their way down the rope and onto my hands or thighs. imagine being bitten by it's mandibles... pulled as i may, it's severed head was always left attached to my skin.

the neighborhood kids often gawked at me sitting on my swing. and since i was not allowed to go out, i invited them in. funny... while they envied me for having a suspended swaying seat under a tree, i envied them for being out there.

naughty

little ayel's expression when she's up to something.

the thread that binds... still

my cellphone started ringing the moment i arrived at the office. it was my father-in-law's number flashing onscreen.

"hello, A!" the voice on the other line exclaimed. i remember that voice so well -- it was my mother-in-law. well... former mother-in-law.

"Mom...?" i answered.

yes... she is in manila... back to US on saturday... was supposed to go to London to visit cousin... elder sister died so she came home instead for the funeral... died of depression... died of depression?!?

"remember tita E -- the spinster? she died of loneliness. don't ever be depressed, A."

"me, depressed? hardly. i used to be, long ago... i'm actually happy, Mom.'

"we're survivors. we are lucky."

"that we're still alive?" we both laughed.

"saw your husband's picture... bigotilyo... "

i laughed. it seemed somewhat strange that we're casually talking about my husband P who is not her son.

"i am leaving today open for R and ayel," she continued, "i want to see them before i leave."

"sure," i said, "you'll love ayel. she's such a beautiful child."

"i can't believe R has made us great grandparents already!" she exclaimed.

we wanted to chat some more but i was at the office and already being called for duty. "ok then, i will get in touch with R and tell him to call you up," i said.

talking with Mom on the phone was... nice. we didn't talk that way while i was married to her son. bone of contention eliminated, maybe?

it has been more than seven years ago. i used to count the days as they passed by, ever so slowly... when every waking hour a struggle of sorts. now it's more like has it really been that long...?

i had a great relationship with my father-in-law but the bestest was with my brothers-in-law. practically growing up together -- we shared jokes and secrets and drank from the same glass. we also played "pekwa" while doing our homeworks with my youngest bro-in-law JV acting as look-out in case Mom or Dad happened to come up the stairs unnoticed. once a signal was given, the cards would quickly be stashed under our notebooks, books or tablecloth (together with the loose change, gamblers!).

the first time my husband R left us to "be alone for a while to find himself" (i've always wondered why he kept losing himself), my son R (who was barely a year old) and i stayed at my in-laws for more than a year. Dad was giving me the girl's room (formerly my sister-in-law's) but i chose to share the boy's room with my wacky bro-in-law, JN. i would wake him up every morning and together we commuted to school. sometimes we would get up earlier than usual just so we'll have time for a tokwa't-lugaw breakfast in blumentritt. my other bro-in-law, M and i on the other hand would agree to meet in front of Quiapo church after class, eat at McDo's then go window shopping along Rizal Avenue. they kept my spirits alive those times when i was at my lowest. in turn, i would review them for their exams or type term papers. i was a confidante (who never squealed), an adviser, a buddy, a sister who stood in the middle of fist fights...

we played practical jokes on each other -- even Dad, the quiet one was not spared -- using a pentel pen, M and i would draw objects on their sleeping bodies. during power failures, we would scare each other by telling ghost stories. other times we would turn the circuit breaker off and traumatize anyone who happened to be taking a bath. the poor victim would hastily come out of the bathroom -- livid, half naked, soaped all over.

Dad and i "videoked" -- he is a good singer. when i took up PT, i would ride with him back to manila, talking and laughing as we traveled. i would candidly ask him questions the answers to which he'd dared not tell Mom. he also took me along as he went on site inspections and would ask if i was hungry each time we passed by a fast food restaurant. he supported us when we put up our video shop several years ago. i remember always being tasked to ask snack money from Dad who has forever been generous with me.

a lot of fond memories in there... when my marriage with R ended, it pained me to think that my friendship with his family will end as well for he was the thread that binded. while my son's relationship to them is by blood, mine just by affinity.

two years after the separation, they reconnected with me. like nothing happened. my bro-in-law M told me that i should not waste my life on a man who does not appreciate me, even if that man happened to be his own brother. congratulated me when i married P... he was glad that i was shaken to my senses and got my life back.

i would like to think that it is because we have a friendship totally separate from the one i had with their brother that keeps us in touch. i cannot treat them any other way except as my brothers-in-law. they will always be that to me... Dad will always be "dad"... Mom will always be "mom". a thread will always be there -- my son R and little ayel... binding us for all time.

in fairness and with due respect to my husband P, i do not keep anything from him -- especially those that concern them. i have formally introduced him to Dad when P and i brought little ayel to meet her great grandfather.

i wish the same for my son R who misses his own dad. i hope his father would reconnect with him and rekindle the friendship they had which is totally separate from the one we had as husband and wife. in time, probably... hopefully... anything is possible. even the unexpected.

prawn cooked 'i dunno' style

i would take prawns anytime of the day. i've come up with my own recipe for preparing them and called it "i dunno". the first time i tried it, my son R asked what the dish was called. i told him, "i dunno...". it's actually a very simple dish, cooked within 20 minutes or less.

1 kilo prawns (with upper head pointed parts trimmed)
3 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic crushed finely
thumb-sized ginger, crushed finely
5 tbsp soy sauce
5 tbsp tomato catsup
1 tbsp sugar
chili flakes (if you like it spicy)
chopped wansoy (or coriander, optional)
sesame oil (a few drops, according to taste)

in a frying pan over medium fire, pour olive oil and add garlic and ginger. stir for about 3-5 minutes till light brown.

add soy sauce, tomato catsup and sugar. stir for another 2 minutes.

arrange prawns in the pan just so it mixes with the sauce. adjust heat to low and cover. let simmer for about 5 minutes.

turn prawns over and set heat to medium again to thicken sauce. add a few drops of sesame oil.

add chili flakes and chopped wansoy. plate, serve and enjoy.

early morning dance

ayel's sleeping habits have changed these past two weeks. she would awaken at around 11pm and play till 2 or 3 in the morning. though safe inside her crib, i could not bring myself to doze off... not till i am sure she's gone back to sleep. times like these, i let her be. i would simply lie on the bed, watching silently as she amused herself.

ayel would circle her crib, uttering syllables only she can understand. then she would pick her stuffed toys and drop them on the floor one by one. when all her toy companions hit the floor, she would shake her head sideways, saying "aaah.... pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-paaaaa!". later, i would find her sitting down playing with her marge simpson doll or examining her hands--left then right then left.

after a while, i would softly call her name and ask if she wants milk. her face would break into a smile with hands clapping saying "ma-ma-ma-ma-maaaaa!"

last night was no different. she awoke round about the same time and smiled and talked and clapped and played.

by 1:10 in the morning, i was almost ready to take my place beside my husband P who was way past sound asleep. so i turned the soft night light on and hit the sack. lying on my side, i was watching her still. i believe little ayel was singing her very own song. i smiled and slowly rose.

walking towards her, i whispered her name. she raised both hands in the air so i lifted her up and held her close to me. she put her arms around my neck and muttered "na-na-paaaa!" i had no idea what that meant.

in between the dark and the soft night light, with our arms around each other, i slowly danced and rocked her back to sleep.