Christmas Past, Christmas Present

Siyempre ang Christmas past ko nung nanduon pa ako sa Pilipinas, matagal na ito. Ang gusto kong iniisip na past ay nuong maliliit pa kami ng mga kapatid ko. Nuong simple lang ang buhay: may mabuksan ka lang na maliit na regalo kung Pasko, maligaya ka na. Kahit bente singko sentimos ang bigay ng Ditse namin, tuwang tuwa na kami. Marami ng mabibili ang bente singko nuon. Diyes lang ang isang bote ng coca cola. Dalawang pan de limon, singko. Isang choconut, singko din.

At nuon, ang mga nagkaka-caroling, naka-aaliw talaga. Mga batang kapitbahay lang. Ang mga dala dala - mga pinitpit na tansan ng sarsaparilla na nakabilot sa alambre. Ayun, may patunog na sila habang bumabanat ng "jingle bells."

Ang Nanay ko nuon, tuwing Disyembre 23 nakahanda na ang mga bilot na bilot na diyes sentimos. Lahat ng mga batang nag-kaka-caroling, diyes ang bigay. Kahit pabalik balik na, bigay pa rin kami.

Pero ang mga malalaki - mga dalaga't binata at 'yung mga galing sa simbahan, siyempre malaki ang bigay. At may pakain pa. Sila 'yung kung mag-caroling e halos hatinggabi na. At naka-dyip pa kung dumating. Ang bigay sa kanila ni Nanay ay naka-sobre.

At ang simbang gabi namin nuong Christmas past ay talagang unforgettable. E, sa bayan namin sa Mandaluyong ay dalawa ang simbahan. Sa kalye pa lang papunta, para ng prusisyon sa dami ng mga magsisimba. Pagdating mo sa luob ng simbahan, wala kang mauupuan. Jampacked!

Iyan naman e mga first four days siguro. Siyempre, excited ang lahat. Tapos paunti nang paunti ang mga nagsisimba.

Nuon, exciting magsimba ng madaling araw, pero mas exciting ang labasan. Kasi bibili kami ng puto bumbong at bibingka.

Sa luob naman ng simbahan, kalahati ng misa, tulog kami ng kapatid ko. Pitong taon lang ako nuon, kaya forgivable. At saka papasok pa kami sa eskwela pagdating ng alas siyete.

Ang Christmas present ko naman ay 'yung dito sa North America. Ngayon pag nanunuod ako ng telebisyon, nadirinig ko ang sangkatutak na fund raising o mga nanghihingi ng regalo para sa mga batang mahihirap. May mga "secret santa" movement o may mga food drive. Okay ang lahat ng iyan, lalo na ang food drive, kasi lalo na ngayon, ang daming mga pamilyang below poverty line. Pero nadirinig ko rin kasi ang mga "blasts" mula sa TV - mula sa mga electronics stores, sa mga shopping channels - ng kung ano anong mga regalo.

Naiisip ko lang ang kaibhan ng Pasko nuon at Pasko ngayon. Nuon, isang baril-barilan lang ang mairegalo sa akin, ang saya saya ko na. Ngayon, sa dami ng mga laruan at gadgets sa mall, ang mga bata nag-e-expect talaga ng mga earth-shaking na regalo. Kesyo iPod, kesyo GameBoy, Blue Ray, etc, etc.

Kailangan siguro maibalik natin ang kasimplehan ng Pasko. Ngayong 2008, dahil sa global recession na nangyayari at sa giyera sa Iraq, parang gloomy ang dating ng Kapaskuhan. Bakit kaya?

Kung ang hinihintay natin ay ang Christmas Present - kung saan ang measure ng kaligayahan ay kung gaano kamahal ang regalong matatanggap o maibibigay - maaring mabigo tayo.

Subali't kung ang ating hihintayin ay ang Christmas Past - kung saan ang kaligayahan natin ay ang pagsusuot ng balabal at pagsugod sa gitna ng lamig o kaya ay snow, at pagdalo sa Misa ng Pasko - tayo ay tunay na matutuwa. Dahil ito ang tunay na Pasko. Simple. Kasing-simple ng sabsaban na pinaglagyan sa batang si Hesus!

SANA AY MAGKAROON KAYO NG NAPAKALIGAYANG PASKO.

Gifts for Christmas and ...New Year.

What to give? There is that question again. Every year, about the same time today, I think of possible answers to this one question.

In our family, I remember that gift giving usually was done on New Year's Day, not Christmas Day.

How did this happen? Well, when I was growing up, we spent our Christmases with my grandparents in our province up North in Nueva Ecija. So it meant that, we kids, received gifts, but we never gave any. It was more receiving.

After Christmas, we would head back to Manila, and on New Year's Day, we would be at the house of our maternal grand aunt (this was way back when I was in primary school), and together with my siblings and countless second cousins, we would again be receiving gifts, this time, from my mother's relatives - her sisters and numerous cousins. So, when it was time to go home after a long day of eating, talking and playing, we would be carrying bags full of gifts, and pockets lined with "coins and bills."

When my Grand Aunt died, our New Year's Day celebration was held regularly at the house of my mother's sister, my aunt. This time, the celebration became limited to our close family. This tradition went on up until I finished high school.

My aunt's house was located in Sta. Ana, an old district of Manila. It was a lovely property, of a two-story wood and stone house amidst countless trees - kaimito, niyog, guavas, langka, duhat, atis and bananas. But the best part was that her house was beside the Pasig River.

In those years, late 50's and early 60's, the Pasig River was a body of water where kids could still swim during the hot days of summer. In short, it was still clear and clean and when one was riding a banca, one could look underneath, and actually see some seaweeds and waterlilies floating by.

In my university years, our New Year's Day celebration was transferred to our house in Mandaluyong.

Somewhere along those years, someone introduced the idea of "kris kringle." So what happened was that days before New Year, each member of the family would draw a name from a pool of folded papers, and the chosen name became "your kringle." On New Year's Day, after the traditional hearty lunch, we would gather around in the 'sala' or living room and my mother would start the roll. She would call out her "kringle," and give her/him a gift. Then this person would call out her/his kringle, and so forth and so on.

As the years passed and my sisters and cousins got married and started to have kids, the list of "kringles" or "monitos" became longer and more interesting. And the price of the gifts became more expensive as the years went by.

About three years ago, when I went home to the Philippines to celebrate the Holidays there, we had our traditional New Year's Day celebration in the hotel room where I was staying. So each family brought a dish, and we were able to sing karaoke without any complaints from anyone. And because I had already given my gifts in advance (before Christmas), I resorted to raffling some items as prizes for the parlor games we all enjoyed. I know other balikbayan Filipinos who raffled really expensive items for their relatives, all in the spirit of the holiday gift-giving.

So what to give this Holiday Season? I started by giving a bottle of wine to my doctor today.

Next week, I will meet a friend for dinner. Hmmm....

SLEEP AND ITS PERILS

Who would not want a long, restful night sleep. Even the birds and the bees welcome a good sleep.

But lately, the medical field has recognized that there are some perils when some humans go to sleep. I am one such person; diagnosed with a sleep disorder called sleep apnea.

Sleep apnea has been a sleep disorder for so many decades, but it has only been recently recognized and labeled a disease. In fact, the first medically recognized sleep apnea was only reported in 1965. There are three distinct forms of sleep apnea: central, obstructive, and complex (i.e., a combination of central and obstructive).

In my case, I have a moderate case of obstructive sleep apnea.

The management of obstructive sleep apnea was revolutionized with the introduction of continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP), first described in 1981 by Colin Sullivan and associates in Sydney, Australia.

The CPAP paraphernalia which had been prescribed to me resembles an oxygen air mask. The first night I wore it, I was not able to sleep. I went back to the supplier and ordered another mask, and with it, a soft pliable plastic which covers the nose, I was able to experience an undisturbed satisfying sleep.

I've been into the CPAP for two years now. Everywhere I go, I bring my cpap with me; short or long trips.

One of the hassles of bringing the CPAP on air travels, is at the airport screening. My doctor has given a special note stating the need for the machine, but in most US airports, once the scanner catches the shape of the "oxygen-mask" looking CPAP, the bag would immediately be opened and sometimes, even brought to a special security personnel, who would ask me suspiciously what it is. Once they see it and my doc's note, they just zip the bag and hand it back to me.

Inspite of all the hassles that come with bringing my CPAP on my travels, I would never, ever leave it behind. It is a life-saving device!

Prior to the emergence of sleep disorder clinics, the phenomenom of "bangungot" or SUDS (sudden death syndrome) had been misunderstood by us, Pinoys. Bangungot was consigned to the realm of the "supernatural, horror or the occult."

I learned that sleep apnea occurs mostly in males, over forty and overweight. It also occurs widely among Asians. My Japanese-sleep doctor told me that Asians are candidates for this because Asians tend to have smaller and narrower throats.

Young and females could also suffer from sleep apnea, but not as widely as males. My own nephew died from "bangungot" when he was barely twenty years old.

And I also remember the case of one young Filipino soap actor, who died in his sleep while vacationing in a plush resort in the South. This, according to the Filipino technician who conducted my sleep test, was a classic example of sleep apnea.

Thanksgiving in the USA

Happy Thanksgiving to our relatives and friends in the U.S. !

'Twas many years ago that I last celebrated Thanksgiving in the US of A. When I was still working in New York (Manhattan), I used to fly or drive to Ohio to celebrate Thanksgiving with my sisters and their families. I remember flying on Thanksgiving Eve, straight from my office, out of Newark Airport.

But the most memorable Thanksgiving eve travels were those spent at the wheels of my maroon Isuzu I-Mark. One time, me, my sister and her three-year old son drove from Jersey City to Ohio, passing through the Penn Turnpike. As I was so tired working the whole day, my eyes were drooping and fought so hard to stay awake. Finally, we took a stop, I think, at Harrisburg at a gas station and took a nap.

We finally reached Ohio at 1 am, and my brother in law, who worked at a railroad company, was already in my older sister's house, where we all stayed and celebrated Thanksgiving, the next day.

Thanksgiving dinner with my older sister and her family always consisted of the traditional American turkey, sweet potato, kilbaesa for my part- German brother in law, and of course, pancit, for the Filipino appetite in two of my sisters, me, my other brother in law and the kids. There would also be ensaymada, usually as gift from our Filipino friends.

Pancit Bihon Recipe

Estimated cooking & preparation time: 45 minutes

Pancit Bihon Ingredients:
1 8 oz. pack pancit bihon noodles
1 cooked chicken breast, shredded
2 cups of chicken broth or 2 chicken bouillon cubes dissolved in 2 cups of water
1/4 cabbage, sliced into strips
1 onion, pealed and sliced
3 cloves of garlic, crushed and minced
1/3 cup scallions, cut into pieces
1 carrot, sliced into strips
2 tablespoons of cooking oil
3/4 cup diced celery
3 tablespoons soy sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
5 pieces of calamansi or 1 lemon, sliced
Pancit Bihon Cooking Instructions:
Soak the pancit bihon noodles to soften for 10 minutes
Grease a large pan or wok with oil. Sauté garlic and onions.
Add the chicken broth, the shredded chicken breast and all the vegetables until cooked.
Mix in the pancit bihon noodles and add the soy sauce, cook for about 5 minutes or until the noodles are soft.
Salt and pepper to taste.
Serve hot with sliced calamansi on the side.
Cooking Notes:
Calamansi or lemon is to be squeezed into the pancit bihon before eating.

If you are vegetarian, you can substitute shrimps or tofu for chicken.

First Snow

This morning when the garage door rose and opened up and I started to drive out, the snow-capped branches of the trees at the edge of the ravine greeted my sight. Oh, and what wonder it was!

It was a winter wonderland postcard scenery! The people walking at the side of the street and those waiting at the bus shelter, were wearing warm jackets and a smile on their face.

Each year when the first snow falls and as it covers the streets , the branches of the trees, the roofs of the cars, and the lines of the poles, I never fail to marvel at its beauty and the serenity it brings.

It's like the first time you fall in love. It never fails to bring you surprises each day. And for so many folks, even after so many years, the feeling stays and lingers.

In some parts of the world, there are only two seasons, dry and wet. This includes Asian countries such as the Philippines, Vietnam, India, Sri Lanka, and of course the African continent.
So here, it never snows. And so here, people would love to see snow.

In some areas where it never snows, there are business enterprises that create structures to mimic snowy, wintery conditions. In Dubai, there's a humongous, interior space which was transformed into a huge mountain-like ski resort, of course, replete with snow.

In Manila, too, there is a new place, where people can have a taste of winter amid a 30- degree celsius weather. So folks can see and feel snow, and have their pictures taken in the pretend-winter wonderland scenario.

It's True. Everyone is a Pilgrim.

It's good to be back home!

I've been away for 14 days, joining thirty-nine other individuals on a pilgrimage that took us from Toronto, Canada to Portugal, Spain and France.

Our group left Toronto-Pearson International Airport on the 27th of September and landed on Lisbon (Lisboa), in Portugal on the 28th. Upon landing, a tour guide, Felipa, gave us a city tour of Lisbon, taking us to the beautiful Cathedral, to the many streets that tell of Portugal's colorful political history and to the ocean-river front which boasts of a huge sculpture showing the legendary Portuegese navigators.

From Lisbon, we were driven to the quaint and miraculous town of Fatima, where the Blessed Virgin Mother appeared before three shepherd-children named Lucia de Jesus, and Francisco and Jacinta Marto, on May 13, 1917.

The site of the apparition is now a Basilica. We stayed here for two days, lodging at the Fatima Hotel, a stone's throw away from the Shrine.

Hearing mass at the Chapel of the Apparition is a dream come true for me. Saying the Rosary and participating in the evening procession with hundreds of other faithful in the site where the Blessed Virgin Mother appeared makes one's heart inflamed with love and adoration for the Mother of the Church, and leaves one utterly happy.

From Fatima, our next stop was Santiago de Compostela in Spain. We arrived in this city in the mid-afternoon and was greeted by a mild autumn weather. Here we were met by a male tour guide who immediately took us to a walking tour of the Basilica of St. James (Santiago). The church's courtyard was expansive and we saw pilgrims from other parts of Spain who've walked from their destinations up to Santiago de Compostela, bearing canes.

Some of these pilgrims rested on the church grounds, lying on their backs. There was a lovely fountain behind the Basilica.

St. James was the first apostle of Christ to be killed for his faith. He was beheaded and his remains are buried in the Basilica.

The stay at Santiago de Compostela was brief for the very next morning, we drove to Salamanca.
Salamanca is a magnificent place! Here the heart of the city is the Plaza Mayor, a 15th century courtyard which is presently adorned with open cafes and world class boutiques. Cost of real estate here runs at fifteen hundred Euro per square feet.

When we arrived at Salamanca it was time for lunch, about two in the afternoon. What we discovered and were not prepared for was...the siesta! All the shops and restaurants were closed. Luckily, we found a bakery still open so we purchased a baguette and some drinks and headed back to our Hotel to open a can of tuna.

For the following day, our tour guide brought us to several churches and universities. In Salamanca, the newest churches have been built in the 15th century. Even their Cathedral has two sections, the old and the new.

I love Salamanca because it is so ancient. It breathes history, it breathes the past - when the church was just beginning. It takes one heart to where great novels and love stories have been inspired.

The streets are narrow, and winding and littered with open cafes, curio boutiques and souvenir shops.

On our sixth day, we departed for Madrid, the capital of Espana. Enroute, we stopped at the fortress city of Avila, the birthplace of St. Theresa. Avila is captivating with its smallness and cleanliness and efficiency.

Here, we had free time for lunch, so we dined at a Japanese restaurant, where the waitress is a Japanese girl who only speaks Catalan. For 6.50 Euro, we had two plates, a choice of wine or coffee and dessert.

Coming from Santiago de Compostela and Salamanca, Madrid immediately presents a direct contrast to the two. Madrid is cosmopolitan, has wide streets, open spaces and lots of gardens.
Before Madrid, the capital of Spain had been Toledo. When Madrid was made capital, the aristocrats of Toledo gave up their houses and donated them to the church, and moved to Madrid to be near the King.

Toledo is another fortress-town like Avila. Driving up to it, one would be in awe of the magnificence of its walls looming high and looking all gallant. Rightly so, because the fortress had been built to protect the town from the enemies - the moors. Toledo shows a lot of the moorish infuence - the churches especially. Toledo in the 9th century had been in the hands of the moors. Towards the end of the trip to Toledo, we visited a shop where beautiful swords and jewelry are being handmade until today.

Back in Madrid, we got up early to see the National Palace (the official residence of the King). Security was tight, similar to an airport security, for practical reasons. Because the present King (Juan Carlos and Queen Sophia) has a second residence, the Palace is open to the general public.

The National Palace is where royal functions for visiting foreign dignitaries are held. It boasts of having 2,800 rooms and a capacity to give dinner for 1500 people.

We were shown some of the 2,800 rooms, and were they awesome! Furniture, chandeliers, clocks, mirrors, rugs were beyond description for their oppulence. There was even one room where there was a huge tapestry in which Spain's colonies were included and showed Las Islas Filipinas.

In a little museum, I also saw a crucifix labeled " anonimo Los Filipino." This was probably made or donated by a Filipino.

On Oct. 4, the pilgrimage headed to Zaragoza, another romantic and ancient town of Spain. We were greeted by a happy noise in the plaza as it was the day of the big fiesta. It was lunchtime so we headed to find a restaurant.. and were lucky to locate a cosy one. One group from our pilgrimage who only spoke English had difficulty understanding the Spanish menu and asked for our group's help (eight Filipinos in a group of 40 pilgrims). We happily obliged.

Also in this restaurant, I found San Miguel Beer being served, so I happily ordered one with my lunch of calamares, dry-fried fish and potato fries. That was 8.50 Euros for lucnh and I think 2.50 Euros for my San Mig.

In the Basilica of the Nuestra Senora del Pilar (Our Lady of the Pillar), we found the flag of the Philippines pinned to the wall near the grand altar and underneath the caption, Filipinas, one among the many countries which were colonized by Mother Spain.

In the evening, we headed back to the town plaza for dinner and to participate in the fiesta. But before this, heading to our hotel for a check-in took a lot of effort because the parade was already taking place at around 5 pm. Thousands of people dressed in different colorful scarves and hats, which I think signify different ethnicities, walked and paraded, gulping alcoholic punch, and singing and laughing to the tune of different marching bands (musikos).

Going back to the plaza in the evening, we just walked and even got lost for a while. Our priest, Fr. Tad, had the right to get lost, because of all the merriment happening all around us. Dinner was superb! We had a buffet with lots of selection. Of course there was the famous Spanish paella and the ever present vin rogue. After dinner, we walked with the revellers and stopped to listen to street singers and performers. This was an exciting and beautiful evening to end our tour of Espana.

The next day, we started our journey to France.

Going to Lourdes, France, our able coach driver, Antonio, took us via the Pyreenes Mountain. The trek was exhilarating as one views the Pyreenes majestically towering above farms where cows and horses roam freely. The top of the Pyreenes are capped with snow at this early autumn October. Ski lodges dot the scenery.

Upon arrival at Lourdes, we were greeted by narrow streets, even more treacherous than the ones in Spain. At some intersections, tourist coaches had to give in to one another just to pass by.

Our hotel, Hotel Aneto, was an old structure and sparse. The view though at the balcony was magnificent. Finding a restaurant to have lunch proved to be another challenge as it was already siesta time. Walking and asking around, we met with others in our group and were told that the only ones opened are those at the Hotels, and were only serving those checked-in. Our group of 8 Filipinos asked a souvenir seller who spoke a sputtering of English, and were told to cross two bridges to reach the rows of restaurants and souvenirs which never close for siesta. Two others from our group joined us and we headed to a French resto, and we enjoyed French Pizza, sandwiches, and for me, a French beer and after that, a crepe.

In the late afternoon, our pilgrimage headed to the Lourdes Shrine for a mass at the chapel in the crypt. It was a small cathedral atop the chapel of St. Anne.

After mass, we explored the whole shrine, taking in the Grotto where the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared before Bernadette. The statue of the Immaculate Conception stands prominently underneath the massive stones, where pilgrims walk through, touching the stone.

At the front of the cathedral is another statue of the Immaculate Conception. A massive gold-gilded crown adorn the top-frontage of this cathedral, and in the early morn, before sunrise, the lighted crown, presents a mysterious, holy, overpowering sight to the pilgrim.

The next day, we were back at the Lourdes shrine for an early morning mass. Our mass had been re-scheduled at 9:30 am and because of the free time, we headed to the place where pilgrims are given a healing bath. There was a long line up at this hour and we were late as gates had been closed. After mass, instead of going to the Way of the Cross, our Filipino-Canadian group decided to wait in line for the afternoon bath, which was to start at 2pm. We were at the line at 11:30 am, which was already quickly piling up, especially the line for female pilgrims.

Inside the bath were curtained dressing areas. For males, two individuals would be called in, and you will undress with underwear left on. You will then be led into another curtained cubicle, where two male volunteers (hospital workers) will wrap around a loin cloth after you strip, and will lead you into the tub filled with very cold clear water from the miraculous fountain. You will be asked to say your prayers and petition, and will be asked to go to the very front of the stone tub. Holding you at each hand, the two volunteers will then dip your whole body underneath the cold water, leaving your head and face up. After the quick dip, I was given a cold drink from the fount and was presented with an image of the Immaculate Conception, which I kissed. Afterthat, you get dressed up withour wiping the water from your body. Though the water was immensely cold, it dries up quickly and found myself warm as I walked out of the bath, into the open air, where two in my group were already waiting.

After our bath, we went to the Way of the Cross located up a hill, and later joined the procession, for a Healing Mass which took place in a chapel located underneath the street. In the evening was a procession.

You cannot leave Lourdes without taking or drinking water from the many faucets connected to the original fountain. This is where St. Bernadette was told by Our Lady to eat grass and drink water, which during the time of the apparition consisted of muddy water.

St. Bernadette at the time of the apparition was thirteen years old and uneducated. The Bishop, when Bernadette asked that a chapel be built as requested by the "thing," did not believe her. He kept asking her, go ask who she is, and Bernadette kept on telling, she is the "thing." Finally, Bernadette told the Bishop: she is the Immaculate Conception.

Today, St. Bernadette's body lies incorrupted outside the town of Lourdes.

By October 7th, we flew out of the Pau airport to reach our last destination, the city of Paris.

Gay Paris is the city of Napoleon Bonaparte. The ever present Seine river is a landmark, so is the Eiffel Tower, the Louve museum, the Trumph Elysee, and many French bistros and sidewalk cafes. We first visited the cathedral of Notre Dame, then had lunch of crepe.

In the evening we were given a city tour showcasing the city in its lighted splendour - the city of lights - Paris!

In the morning, we visited the Mont Matre Church, where there was a choice of using the overhead elevator car instead of the steep stone stairs, and then, heard mass at the Miraculous Medal church where St. Catherine Lavoure is interred, her body in the same condition as when she was originally buried. In the afternoon, we were back, exploring the city, taking pictures by the Eiffel Tower, and shopping to our hearts' delight. Lunch was at a chinese restaurant inside the Lafayette Galleries (shopping mall). We ordered fried rice and fried seafood noodles. Beside our table was a French lady enjoying her big meal, and who spoke enough English for us to communicate with her. Bon apetit!

Our dinners in Paris were outside our hotel, Florida Hotel. It was actually a restaurant called Buffallo, serving North American cuisine, grilled chicken, steak, grilled salmon, Crevettes (shrimp gambas). I ordered vin rogue for our group the first night, and on our final night, one Chinese lady, served everyone, one round of vin rogue, again.

Au revoir, Paris!

We flew back to Toronto on Thursday, October 9. Our flight left the Charles de Gaulle airport at 11:30 am (French time). It was an eight-hour flight, and we reached Toronto Pearson International Airport at 1:35, EST.

FOOTNOTE:

On our way to Santiago de Compostela, from Lisbon, we stopped for washroom break and snack in a highway eatery, and found in the store a cookie called " Filipinos." It was chocolate covered cookie. I found it again in two other stores, in Spain. I bought some to give away to my sister.

Creating Coktails

It's summer time and the living is easy. It's time to indulge in laziness or seek goal-full activities - joining a jazz festival, drinking beer at the Distillery district, barbecuing beef or veggie burgers, or for others, showing off their new deck to friends.

I am learning how to mix cocktails, for a change, this summer. Drinking is not really my cup of tea, used to be, when I was much younger. Now, it's basically social drinking.

For starters, I bought myself a set of different bar glasses, wine glass, bourbon glass, cocktail glass, measuring cups, trays, a 100% stainless steel , made in Germany, bartender's shaker

I also bought a Jamaican rum, Smirnoff, Captain Morgan's rhum, several bottles red wine, grenadine, peach schnapp, framboise, triple sec, Bacardi Gold, and strawberry Daiquiri.

Now, I've really enjoyed, for quite some time now, several cocktail drinks, usually when eating at restaurants, Red Lobsters, Golden Thai, or in Japanese restaurants.

I've started experimenting with a cocktail I called, Maru Mix, frozen peaches, which I put into a blender, then add either pineapple juice, or mango juice, add either rhum or vodka, a little peach schnapp or triple sec, a little sugar, and ice , and then blend everything. Pour it in tall cocktail glass and before serving, I'd lace the cocktail with either grenadine or framboise. I'll put a sprig of basil leaf or a slice of lemon, for a pleasing summer look, and serve.

For hors d'oeuvres or "pulutan," I love to prepare calamari, coated with special breading and toasted brown, or just sauted with lots of peppers, jalopeno mixed with the regular chinese red and green bell peppers, and sprinked with lemon juice and a dash of soy sauce.

I also broil shrimp or salmon belly garnished with a combination of spices - tumeric, cumin, pepper, and others.

These would be completed with a hefty serving of chinese shrimp crackers, with Thai peanut sauce as dip.

Now, bring out the cocktails, we're ready to dip into summer.

Here are some terminologies, taken from other websites, if you want to learn more about mixing drinks or bartending:

Bartending terminology

Box Pour into and out of a shaker, usually only once. Gives the drink a quick mixing without shaking.
CallDrink A liquor and mixer, of which the liquor is a defined brand. (ie. Tanqueray and Tonic, Bacardi and Coke)
Cobbler A tall drink of any liquor served in a collins or highball glass with shaved or crushed ice and garnished with fresh fruit and mint sprigs.
Chaser A mixer that is consumed immediately after a straight shot of liquor to create a different taste.
Cocktail Any of various alcoholic beverages consisting usually of brandy, whiskey, vodka, or gin combined with fruit juices or other liquors and often served chilled.
Collins A drink akin to a sour which is served in a tall glass with soda water or seltzer water.
Cooler A drink consisting of ginger ale, soda water, and a fresh spiral or twist of citrus fruit rind, served in a collins or highball glass.
Crust A sour-type drink served in a glass that is completely lined with an orange or lemon peel cut in a continuous strip.
Cup A punch-type drink that made up in quantities of cups or glasses in preference to a punch bowl.
Daisy An oversize drink of the sour type, normally made with rum or gin. It is served over crushed ice with a straw, and sweetened with a fruit syrup.
Lace Normally applies to the last ingredient in a recipe, meaning to pour onto the top of the drink.
Eggnog A traditional holiday drink containing a combination of eggs beaten with cream or milk, sugar, and a liquor such as brandy, rum, or bourbon.
Fix A sour-type drink similar to the daisy, made with crushed ice in a large goblet.
Fizz An effervescent beverage. (ie. that which is carbonated or which emits small bubbles.)
Flip A chilled, creamy drink made of eggs, sugar, and a wine or spirit. Brandy and sherry flips are two of the better known kinds.
Frappé A partially frozen, often fruity drink. It is usually a mixture of ingredients served over a mound of crushed ice.
Grog A rum-based beverage with water, fruit juice and sugar, commonly served in a large mug.
Highball Any spirit served with ice and soda water in a medium to tall glass (often a highball glass).
Julep A drink made of bourbon, mint, sugar and crushed ice.
Lowball A short drink made of spirits served with ice, water or soda in a small glass.
Mist A liquor served over a glass filled with crushed ice, often a way of serving liqueur as an after dinner drink.
Mulls A sweetened and spiced heated liquor, wine or beer, served as a hot punch.
Nightcap A wine or liquor taken before bedtime.
On The RocksA wine or liquor poured over ice cubes.
Pick-Me-Up A drink designed to relieve the effects of overindulgence in alcohol.
Posset An old british drink from which the eggnog was derived. It consists of a mixture of heated ale or wine curdled with milk, eggs, and spices.
Punch A party-size beverage consisting of fruit, fruit juices, flavorings and sweeteners, soft drinks, and a wine or liquor base.

Shooter A straight shot of whiskey or other kind of spirit taken neat.

Sling A tall drink made with either brandy, whiskey or gin, with lemon juice, sugar and soda water. It is served both hot and cold.
Smash A short julep made of liquor, sugar, and mint, served in a small glass.
Sour A short drink consisting of liquor, lemon/lime juice and sugar.
Tot A small amount of liquor.
Virgin A non-alcoholic drink.
Well Drink A liquor and mixer, of which neither are defined brands. (ie. Gin and Tonic, Rum and Coke)

New Friends, Old Friends

Although I'd been away from the Philippines for more than twenty years, I am still in awe at how some of our kababayans behave with their fellow countrymen, when outside the motherland.

Take for instance a neighbour I once had, many years ago. When I just moved into a new complex, this individual totally ignored me at the hallway, even though I gave her a smile. Then, one time, she spoke to me only because she needed help with her car. Third time, I knocked at her door because she left her keys hanging at the keyhole. This particular individual had been in Canada for maybe, forty years or so; that's why during our brief interaction, she never spoke in Tagalog. I found it odd. Even though she may not be fluent in Tagalog, and maybe, speaks another dialect, maybe she could have uttered simple phrases like,
" Mabuti," when I asked " Kumusta kayo?" If there had been other non-Tagalog speaking nationals around, say, in the elevator, I could have totally understood her want of speaking English all throughout the many floors we passed by. But no, it was just her and me.

The feeling of superiority of some old timers vs. newcomers still abounds among those who came to Canada fifty or sixty years ago. When I was relatively new here, I bumped into a lot of characters like my former neighbour. There was even a time, while I was shopping a local Filipino store, when I overheard someone saying to the merchant, " Me, I am one of the pioneers here in the Filipino community. When I came then, most of the Filipinos were nurses, but now, there are more nannies."

I find that senior citizens, those who had been petitioned by their daughters or sons, to be the most friendly. Whenever you meet them, they give you a ready smile and burst into easy conversation. One time, when I was volunteering in a non-profit value store, one such old man, meeting me for the first time, invited me to a salo salo at their house.

Maybe it is because senior citizens don't have to prove anything anymore; they're retired, receiving pension, and just enjoying the remaining years of their lives, while the younger ones need to tell others what kind of work they do, where they work, how much they earn, or what car they drive.

That's why when I come home to the Philippines for a visit, I'd always try to re-discover the old friendships which I had, because really, true, good friends are hard to come by.

Planting Rice is Never Fun?

While my siblings and I grew up in the city, most of my first cousins grew up in the countryside.
By countryside, I mean Nueva Ecija, a province in the northern part of Luzon, the biggest island in the Philippines, where my father was born and raised.

The only time we would visit Nueva Ecija would be on Christmas Day , All Saints' Day, Easter Sunday, the town's Fiesta (May 12th) and Election Day. There would be special trips, sometimes, summer vacation or in cases of emergency, such as death of a relative or special occasions such as a wedding.

My memories of my father's hometown had been etched in my memory for so long and I don't think they will ever fade away. Memories such as trips on the wee hours of December 25, packed inside a green and white Pontiac with my other siblings and parents; crossing the receded Pantabangan river with nary a star in the sky; traversing the dusty savana in the pitchblack hour of four a.m. or eight in the evening; stopping in Baliuag, on the way back to Manila to buy those petite Baliuag pandesal and pastellas de leche to bring as pasalubongs and to feast on hot arroz caldo at a well known Baliuag highway restaurant.

Of course going back to Manila after Christmas meant that my pockets were loaded with dough.
Old folks in our province were a generous lot ( I think most Filipinos are very generous during Christmas season) and would give us " pamasko." My ninong from Penaranda used to give me one hundred pesos at a time when the jeepney fare was only ten centavos; so you could imagine
my excitement on those trips to Nueva Ecija.

Visiting my Lolo and Lola on Christmas, Easter and during Fiesta, also meant a chance to feast on Lechon de leche. The treat was not just on savouring the lechon ( the crispy balat) but also in watching how the lechon was prepared. My cousins and us would sit by the window ledge at the second floor of the house and watch the "folks" turn and oil the poor pig. The aroma would be floating in the air, together with the scent of fresh cooked white rice, menudo, sopas, sinampalukang manok, mechado, pancit and kakanins such as the famous kalamay Nueva Ecija
( made of glutinous rice with thick sugary syrup and sprinkled with fried coconut meat).

During Christmas season, we usually leave Manila on Dec. 24 and return either Dec. 26 or 27 to Manila. But there had been times when my father decided to travel on Christmas day itself. It meant leaving Manila right after the Midnight mass or thereabouts, and reaching Nueva Ecija when the cocks were still sound asleep. As his customary practise was, my father would stop at the house of every relative he had and we were forced to get out of the car (never mind if you were sleeping) to kiss the hands of the elders. This he did, to make sure no relative was missed.
But the biggest destination was my grandparents' house, of course.

Now, why is planting rice not so much fun? Is it because there's more profit in corn production for that much hyped "ethanol?"

There's a growing food problem taking place around the world, and instead of planting crops such as palay (rice) or other staple grains, a lot of riceland had been converted into housing subdivisions, resorts , golf courses and of course, cornland for alternative fuel production.

Nueva Ecija is part of Central Luzon, the rice granary of the Philippines, but now, a lot of folks there have been experiencing rice shortage like the rest of the country and other countries in the world.

Our own farm had been saved. My father, although not a farmer, inherited this from his parents, and decided to keep it. He dabbled for a while raising swine, cultivating tilapia, raising goats, growing pakwan and of course, growing palay. But I guess, he was not a farmer. He failed in his endeavours. His brother who is a doctor was more succesful in managing his share of the farm, so I guess that makes him a farmer.

I think planting rice, or managing a farm, takes a special talent. It's like you have to have a "green thumb" to really raise a beautiful garden.

It had been romanticized in songs, in movies, and in postcards, that of " planting rice." But they say it's never fun.

Making a living is never easy. Managing your own business, is neither.

Raising Canaries

It all started when a friend gave me a canary which accidentally flew into her balcony apartment. I heard it making the sound, " eek, eek," and I thought it was singing. My friend told me that only male canaries could sing, so I assumed that my canary was a male canary.

Off to the pet store I went and bought a female canary. The duo, which I named Lucky(the male) and Corky (the female) were soon housed in an enclosed balcony ... free as birds... to fly and mess around.

I placed a big nest ( a discarded handwoven handicraft) into the wall, and soon, the two canaries were to be found sleeping in the nest. And then, I started to find little eggs. And then, I started to see both canaries sitting on the eggs.
Fine, I said, they are trying to hatch the eggs. But as weeks passed, nothing happened. The little eggs did not turn into other canaries.

Observing the two canarie further, I soon discovered that both were laying eggs. Only then did I learn that both were female canaries!

So, off to the pet store I went again, and purchased a "mule male canary," a yellow canary with black patches on its feathers.

As the fall season progressed, I housed the three canaries in a cage which I could cover at night, to protect them from the cold. Then one day in February, Lucky's four little eggs, became four little canaries. Three were purely yellow and one with a bit of black streak on top of its head.

Soon, the other canary, Corky, laid four (again) eggs, and were hatched successfuly. Three were yellow with some dark spots, and one was a mule, just like Daddy Max.

So this is how I started raising canaries.

This is the bloodline:
Lucky (female), Corky (female) Max (male)

Lucky's four canaries were all males. Corky's four canaries were two male and two females.

Corky's male offspring (Jr Max) paired off with one of his siblings (Mother Neg) , and produced two females, (Baby Neg and Mula). The other two ( Dickey and Trixie) paired off as well, and gave us another male canary, (Micky).

Jr Max and Mother Neg had two more, but one was not able to survive.

The greatest joy in raising canaries is hearing the males sing. My canaries sing throughout the day. They are a bunch of happy canaries.

Another pleasure is watching how a baby canary ( at 2 days after hatching, it looks like a tiny piece of cotton) turn into a full grown canary. The mother canary feeds her baby canary non-stop. She will only rest at night.

Batting Average

One morning, I found myself in the batter's box. Anxious, yet having the time in my hands. Bored but excited at the chance of putting my foot at the base. Ready to unleash, yet coiled... then ....uncoiled - from within.

It is what I call a job hunter's dilemma. One has been put in the batter's box to hit the ball, not knowing where it will land. You have a strategy, yes. But the crowd, the coach are screaming.
You can hit a foul ball. You can hit a homer.

Losing a job means a lot of things. You fumbled. You missed the base. You were the star of the team and the others resented it. You had your own strategy. You were working hard to win and the owner simply coasted the game.

In my lifetime, there were several memorable moments when I found myself looking for work: First was when I just finished my university studies and was out hunting for my first real job. Second time was when I left the Philippines and was applying for any job in the snobbish financial community of Wall Street in New York. Third time was when I landed in Toronto at a time when an economic slump was taking place in Canada.

There were two instances in my life when I worked for a not-for-profit. One was in a semi-government research think tank in Manila. The other was in a community-based agency which helped new immigrants to Canada.

I also worked for private corporations. One, in an advertising and PR firm with some international clientele. At another, a magazine with international roots. And at a third, in a prestigious law firm with a Manhattan address.

Now, back to the batter's box. Sometimes it gets lonely. Sometimes, it gets exciting. Sometimes, it gets challenging. A lot of times, it gets insecured.

A lot of employment counsellors tell job searchers that in a person's lifetime, one will have to switch careers at least five times. In my case, I switched careers four times. Each time I switched, I found it was a rewarding strategy. Because with each new job came a new learning experience which no university degree can give you.

Now back to the batter's box. The crowd is starting to cheer/jeer. The coach within me is telling me a game play. I can see the bases are still empty.

But I have a firm grasp of the bat, and a clear view of the ball.