A tragedy waiting to happen. We have read and heard this phrase to describe two separate catastrophes in two areas miles apart in a span of two weeks. This depiction of the ULTRA Stampede and the Southern Leyte landslide just makes these two calamities all the more heartbreaking and yes, tragic. The thought that disasters such as these two should have been prevented and lives would have been spared just leaves you weak in the knees. If I may borrow General Querol’s reaction upon raiding the Pasig drug den, how more than seventy people died in a stampede and how an entire barangay just cease to exist are precisely the things that are incomprehensible. Hopefully the future of our nation is not the biggest tragedy waiting to happen.
Kailan lang. Last Sunday an aunt from Hongkong came home and everybody flocked to her place in Cavite for your typical Filipino welcome rites. My two sisters and I rode with my other aunt because my mom and eldest sister were assigned to the airport. This meant that for at least a whole hour, we’ll be listening to old ladies’ stories. On the way we stopped by Baclaran seaside market to buy prawns. One of my aunts, also a balikbayan, remarked howcome in the past they make it a point to hear mass at Baclaran Church when it is so far. My other aunt replied that because it is miraculous. She went on to say that before our grandmother together with her two closest sisters used to go to Baclaran and one time all three of them were victimized by pick-pockets. I asked whether this happened when my grandma and her sisters were not yet married. My aunt answered, “Hindi. Kailan lang”. My sisters and I all burst out in laughter because all three of those grandmas are dead already with my own grandma not being around for almost twenty years now.
Common decency. When the riots and embassy torching will end remains everybody’s guess. The West should understand that the globalization which they have embraced and successfully propagated made possible this kind of global demonstration of fury against a local newspaper caricature. They should be the first to know that given the internet and cable tv, their audience has ceased to be the 5 million or so Danish people. Responsibility and respect are virtues we know so well and definitely we can use more of in this time of borderlessness and regionalism. Whatever the meaning of the satire is, there is no harm being more conscious of other people’s sensibilities especially in the media industry.
When I was studying as a young girl in an exclusive school run by Catholic nuns, we would always go on a pilgrimage to Lourdes Church every February 11, the feast day of Our Lady of Lourdes. The whole batch numbering to around three-hundred students, in our white blouse and navy blue skirt, would march along the sidewalk and cross the street in two straight lines with perfect arm-length distance from each other. Looking back, I think we resemble Madeline’s class as they are being led by Sr. Clavel in the streets of Paris.
Since then, I never got the chance to go back to Lourdes Church. I just know that every year, my mom never fails to hear mass at Lourdes during its feast day and eat at Cora’s Eatery near the church with her eating club. Cora’s Eatery, named after the owner whom everyone calls Ima, holds open house every February 11th and anybody may partake in her own feast. Talk about fiesta-Filipino.
Last week, I promised my mom I’ll go with her as she fulfills her devotion to Our Lady of Lourdes. With a nasty hang-over from the previous night’s drinking, I managed to get up before seven in the morning, on a Saturday, the eleventh. I was feeling nauseous the entire time at the Church and prayed really hard that I won’t throw-up. After the mass, it was time to go to Cora’s and meet Ima for the first time.
To show that I and my sister are not particularly strangers to her, we told her that her granddaughter, Pat, is actually the best friend of a cousin and that we went to the same school (go figure). With this piece of information, she never stopped talking like the doting grandmother she really is and I felt very much at ease eating or should I say gobbling down the feast that she prepared.
The food was superb. It took all of my hang-over away. Everything was fantastic from the sotanghon guisado to the nata de coco. Her chicken teriyaki was not that sweet and it had a lot of leeks. She used big slices of tripes for her callos and its richness was just right. The vinegar she used with the fried lumpiang ubod was indeed sour unlike most white vinegar I know. Her grilled tilapia was individually wrapped in banana leaves which made me think just how long it took them to do that. Finally, I must have eaten on that day the best maja blanca there is. I’m not particularly fond of lutong-bahay but Ima’s cooking gave me a new kind of hang-over.
More than the food, the real treat was Ima herself. She was very accommodating and sincerely kind. Her generosity and warmth can be felt in every bite of her sumptuous creation and she’ll do anything to make her guests feel comfortable, whether she knows you or not. After meeting her I and my sister missed our own grandma, Mama, whom we rarely see nowadays and who must have given all her grandchildren and great grandchildren their first bath and first solid food. My mom said that Ima’s handa has always been a part of the feast of Lourdes. People from everywhere make it a point to visit her after hearing mass and enjoy whatever it is she prepared. I wonder why…
