April 11, 2012 Himamawo- Tagalog for Bliss! (not really but it ought to be).

My komares (parents of my godchild) Mare and Pare,  picked me up for an adventure. Pare drove us far back into the countryside, to Himamawo. 

We hiked down.

Looking up.

Just past the falls...

Down the stairs and here we are. The only sounds were of forest and water, this is kilometers away from population. Filipinos say, "Masarap!" at something like this- yes, "Delicious!"  Just us 3 at this spot of the world!

The water from the springs.

Aaaaahhhhhhh....

Mare.

After a while these boys walked down the steps. They were local and had walked kilometers to get here. They were such fun to be among. They flipped and cavorted like little tadpoles.

I loved watching them.

They thought it was so funny that a "cana" (Americana) was in the water.

I was very focused on trying to get the boy diving mid-air. I didn't realize til I looked at this picture what had happened, then I remembered hearing the boys laughing about one having lost his pants.

My komares treated me to halo-halo afterwards, which means mix-mix because it is a combination of so many fruits and goodies together, shaved ice packed over that, evaporated milk poured over that and then it's your job to mix-mix it. I used to think I didn't like it. I love this woman's concoction! I was ready to hire a tricycle today and go the many kilometers for it. It's the best!

April 9, 2012 Day of Valor (Holiday) at Corregidor

This is a day to pause and remember all the Filipinos and Americans who resisted the Japanese invasion during WW II. I wanted to go to Bataan, where the remaining veterans would be assembling, but that would have been an 8 hour trip one way. The other hot spot during the war was Corregidor, an island in the mouth of Manila Bay. I chose to go there and be with the spirits in that place, even though there were no ceremonies. We went by Jeepney and bus to the pier and then the boat trip was about 1 1/2 hours. The weather was gorgeous- warm but with a soft, cool breeze all day.

The history is fascinating. I recommend any history buffs to stay overnight on Corregidor, as the tour, while great, moves too fast to read all the plaques and contemplate it all. The island is a tropical paradise, and across the water is Bataan Peninsula, its jungle covered mountains like another tropical paradise from that vantage point. I mentally contrasted that with what the soldiers- American, Filipino and Japanese were experiencing as their eyes took in the exact same views. I would have liked to have had much longer to sit and think. Mare and I read what we could, absorbed a lot of the spirit and then had fun running from sight to sight, seeing how many photos we could get before the tour moved on. We must have looked like squirrels avoiding traffic. We had such a great day we want to return. Meanwhile, I want to read some more on it. Just got done with a book on Churchill called "The Last Lion" by Manchester, which I got from the PC book exchange  that was so good it whetted my appetite for more. 

leaving Manila for Corregidor

Bataan Peninsula

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bombed first by the Japanese, then later by the Americans. The dark spot on the steps is a bomb crater. There were enough bombs dropped on this island that the ratio is one per square meter.

heading back to Manila, sunset over Bataan Peninsula

"I shall return."

General Douglas MacArthur when he had to leave Corregidor. 

April 1 to April 8, 2012 Mahal na Araw (Holy Week)

For nine days, every evening, the town hears the broadcast of prayers and singing as a small band of people walk the streets praying. Ate Norma is usually one of them. Anyone who wants to participate just joins the slow procession as it winds through town. Some of the men pull the broadcast system along on it's wheeled cart.  After each evening's processional, Ate returns home for supper, then leaves again for what is called Magbasa  (The Reading). A biblically based book of the history of the Christian faith is read in Gregorian chant.  One family or another opens their home for this. One evening it was our next-door neighbors and I went over to join them. They had a feast fit for an elegant wedding. The singers took breaks now and then to eat and visit before returning to the reading. Most readings are of a section of the book, lasting several hours, but sometimes the entire book is read uninteruppted and that takes about 24 hours. Our town had that entire reading with a man's voice the dominant part alternating with women's parts. That was done on Friday on a balcony overlooking our church square and broadcast over the town. 

Palm Sunday begins Holy Week and there is a grand reenactment of Christ and the Apostles walking into the joyous crowds of Jerusalem amid the crowd waving palm fronds.

 

Then the angels emerge and present their part. These are only half the angels. The other half are boys and they are in the background at this moment.

Then came Sinakolo (Passion Play) and it was very well done which means, of course, that it was disturbing.

Child watching Christ's crusifixion.

 The subdued mood of the crowd continued as we left the square to go to our homes to eat lunch. That evening we gathered again for another procession. This one is still centered on Christ in the tomb but all the statues of saints are decorated and carried along in recognition of their presence among us- the Communion of Saints.

My favorite, Saint Peter- keys in his right hand, rooster on his left. The crowd was about 2 blocks long.

 Finally, Saturday evening comes and with it the growing sense of relief and anticipation. Pagbabasbas ng Apoy at Tubig (Celebration of Fire and Water) began in the courtyard with a big bonfire, from which the crowd lit their candles. One by one, slowly and then exponentially, candle flames spring up. The church is in absolute darkness and the priest leads the silent crowd, holding their candles,  into the darkness. The candlelight gradually illuminates the church and from the outside I began to see the stained glass windows light up and show their pictures. As the priest begins the mass the lights are turned on.
Mass took over 2 hours and we then had the glorious celebration of the resurrection. The climax of this was when Mary's veil of mourning is lifted by two angels.

Beneath the angels are men bearing the statue of Mary, who is clothed in black. The angels very gradually lift the veil as songs are sung by everyone.

Lent is usually an internal, reflective, somber time for me. This year was different, as I scurried from one event to another and took pictures. I was recording mentally and on film other peoples observance. It is as though I was watching myself, watching them. The sense of peace and relaxation on Sunday was the same, I noticed, but it was without any evidence of Easter Bunny, baskets, painted eggs or pastel colors. And for my family, especially, this marked the closing of the intensely full 5 weeks they've had.

March 29, 2012 One Year Death Anniversary

         Maricar Paglicauan is my "Host Mother". Her husband, and father of Jerome, Marjery and A.J., is Neil, who died of cancer March 29, 2011. (I arrived only 5 1/2 months later.) For a year Maricar has worn only black or white but no lively colors. Every 29th of the month we have had prayers in the late afternoon, right after Maricar returns from work. The family gathered in the living room and a handful of neighbors and friends trickled in and the rosary began, ending about 1/2 hour later. Neil's picture is on a table with a candle and flowers. The family sat in a row of chairs in front of him. Again, as at the All Saints Day, I had the sense that we are sitting with Neil, he is just in a different realm.  When prayers ended, the visitors moved to the eating area off the kitchen, settled in around the table with Ate Norma (they are mostly her friends) and ate a hot meal. I took Maricar's lead as she and her children retreated upstairs. When the house was emptied of visitors we went back downstairs to eat. This was the pattern every 29th. 
         Then March arrived and it was crazy-busy! We had the daylong town fiesta on the 19th, during which we had about 200 visitors popping in and out from morning until late at night. The house was full of family from out of town. Maricar's sister and brother and their families came from Manila and stayed here. The next big event would be the One Year Death Anniversary. Every evening we observed a novena- nine days of rosary and other prayers- and every day was preparation for the feast on the anniversary. Every evening a few more people joined the prayers and every day more groceries arrived. The family was expecting about 500, dwarfing the crowd that came on fiesta. The families from Manila arrived again and mattresses were placed on the floor to accomodate them and the helpers they brought. This time brother Noel is here from Israel, where he lives and works. So Ate Norma's children and grandchildren were all here together. It has been very nice. (And all this month was a whirlwind of school activities because this is the last month before summer break, plus practices for the Easter pagents and concerts the family is involved in.)
Back to the food- I have cooked for many crowds of up to 150 or so, but 500? I really enjoyed watching these masterly homemakers-
Tarps and tents and tables and chairs were rented and set up, filling the yard, the big porch and the house. Every day there were a few more multiples of dishes. Dozens of flans, dozens of jelled fruit salads... I walked home from school on the 28th, and glanced through the fence into the shady yard and saw a whole hog being cut up. The butchers continued working on that meat around the  clock. They rested in early morning and then cooked again until midday. The head cook wanted to know if I liked the food and I wanted to give him the thumbs-up, but when I looked up from our pretty table, white tablecloth and porcelain dishes, my friends and I saw him off in the leafy corner, slunk down on the ground in a drunken doze, propped against the leg of the table he had chopped on.
A few logistics of large-scale cooking:

A few bananas...

a few eggs...

some vegetables... (and my bike, which stays inside for safekeeping and they wouldn't hear of me taking it out even for this.)

water...

!!!

the pig...

chicken...

cooks willing to work around the clock... (it is fully dark at this point and they did all their work outside under single light bulbs)

three of five basins of the finished kaldareta...

cleaning and sorting chicken...

and of course, a little rice. This is one of two bags we had delivered! (fruit salad on the table.)

You rent a few dishes....

and you're ready to serve. (Maricar on the left with Myla).(There was a separate table for the desserts.)

The final prayers lasted about an hour, interspersed with songs. At a critical point a person entered the room and placed the white clothes on the heads of the females of the immediate family. There are about 100 people in this room.

The teachers at school had been invited, and we ate all together at one of the tables outside.That is when we saw the sleeping cook. Before they left to return to school, they told me to watch for what happens at 3PM. 

          A few hours later the house was pretty empty and I thought it was just a lull in the visitors and I expected to hear more arrive. Instead, all of a sudden there was a great flurry of activity! Curious, I looked out my window and saw the rental company arrive and they were rapidly stacking the hundreds of chairs and the tables and were loading them. It seemed odd, and that's when I remembered to check the time. It was 2:30PM.  I went downstairs and the family had already cleaned and were doing the last of the dishes and sweeping and mopping the floor. It reminded me of the help the Amish give each other after a party. When I reported all this to the teachers they explained that it isn't just about helping, it is the eradication of the bad or grievous spirits that have visited the household for this year. The mourning has been fulfilled, now that is chased away and all is fresh. All traces of the event are gone, including leftover food, which is given away. Nothing remains and all is cleaned away.

          The afternoon was relaxing and quiet family visiting. 

These children are of Neil's side of the family. We were really having fun visiting. The boy in light blue told me I was the most beautiful American he'd ever met. I asked him if he had ever met another American and, of course, he said no.

Some of our family with Neil in the middle, and Maricar in front on the left in the blue t-shirt she had changed into  after prayers.

March 28, 2012 Grade 6 Commencement

         5 hours of ceremony started at 7:00AM and ended after 1:00PM. There were 331 pupils graduating and every pupil is treated to their unhurried time of walking down the aisle with a parent, through the raised swords of the cadets and up across the stage and back down to their seats. There are speeches by the dignitaries in attendance, and then the presenting of the diplomas and then the presentation of extracurricular awards. And there are songs.
          The work leading up to this event is beyond anything I've ever seen. The Grade 6 teachers have been slaving away every day readying forms, checking, double and triple checking and then, surprise! DepEd or a supervisor changes some aspect of recording and all must be changed. This has been going on for a month. This time of year is a marathon of long hours and steady nerves. It is puzzling to me. I wish I knew more about admin in US schools so that I could compare the processes more knowledgeably. All was finally completed and readied for Commencement. By the time we were done setting up for that it was dark and the teachers didn't go home until about 11PM. Except for Mam Glorydee, who had gone to the hospital to deliver a baby girl!
         We are now all done with our labors (pun intended), Commencement is over and summer vacation is on as of this week!

Teachers and pupils cleaned and arranged the staging. Dario, as usual, helped, along with the nice school guards, and Sir Jaybee did the skirting. Filipinos are known for their artistic skirting and curtain arranging. And the flowers are always fabulous. Around midnight the florist brought and arranged the flowers so they were fresh for the next day. Mam Cristy(left)and Mam Rachiel are behind the tables, arranging diplomas and medals.

Maricar and Marjery

This is why we do it all.

March 19, 2012 Fiesta! Thanksgiving to the town's patron, St. Joseph (San Jose)

We've had 9 days of special masses and prayers. Then, on Saturday, the 17th, we had a big parade that wound all over the town. Richard, PCV at a high school here, walked with his school and I with mine.

These are the gates of the church campus. The big reddish building is a convent, being renovated amid plans to activate it again. Behind that you see the church steeple. We gathered at 6:30AM in the church courtyard.

All week long we'd been having smaller parades through town. I took this picture from our window. The green and yellow are our town's colors.

   Then, on the 18th, the eve of the fiesta, we gathered at church for a prayerful procession that lasted about 2 kilometers. There must have been about 2 thousand folks walking and many thousands more standing along the way. There were many statues of Saint Joseph, each representing one of the little neighborhoods (barangay).

 The largest and grandest statue was from the town church. 

The morning of the 19th, the fiesta, I heard the cooks of the family up around 5:00AM. They were starting large-scale cooking for the all-day visitors anticipated. They expected about 200 people.
After peeking at what they were doing I went to mass at 6:00AM and sang with the choir. The previous mass was letting out. The church had been crammed for that and now another massive crowd was trying to get in at the same time. Filipinos are so patient about inching forward in a glommed sea of humanity. It reminds me of Italy- narry a line to be seen. I, on the other hand, am very American and am accustomed to lining up single file, each of us in our place and By Gum no one better cut! As in Germany.
It was hot and stuffy in the church from the crowd. I started to feel a little woozy so I sat on the steps of the choir loft. No problem in that. Someone else was eating a deep fried banana. Someone else was visiting and quietly singing to a neighbor. Birds are flying around inside the church. Mass goes on.
Home again at about 7 and hearing the happy, busy sounds of big cooking: pots and pans banging and oil sizzling and knives hitting the cutting boards and people talking, lots of people talking and directing and greeting each other.

This is my family's brother from Manila, Dayo- Good cook and fun, and two of the 3 people who came with them from Manila to stay over and help with the cooking.

My family has many good cooks. Above you see Ate Belin. The golden brown in the pot in the foreground is hot, crispy fish. I ate two whole pieces! Even while knowing I was going to be eating all day. Mmmm! No regrets.

Big bunches of these coconuts hang on the trees all year. While this woman was busy, Ate Norma called up to me, in my bedroom, to come down and get a glass of fresh "buko juice". I didn't waste any time! This woman hacked a small hole and poured out the juice- a couple glasses worth. Then she split  it and scrapped the thick, moist coconut out of the shell with a shredder.

I took my second glass of juice up to my room and enjoyed reading and listening to the sounds of cooking. All my life I've been in the thick of those sounds and hearing them creates a vague sense that my family will walk in at any moment. That thought was a warning to me that homesickness was creeping in. I knew I had to start moving into my day. I called Mam Rachiel and she said to come on up, that their cooking was all done. I walked up and at 7:30 had the 3rd meal of my day. Filipinos passion for food is second only to their passion for family. Fiesta is all about going to close friends and relatives and eating their specialties. Not eating is simply not an option. I've been taught to just take a tiny bit. But even then!!! I can only eat so much! I counted and by 2PM I had eaten 7 times! Mama would say, "Are you bragging or complaining?" and I'm bragging. My body, on the other hand, complained, mildly, in the evening, but that was after my 11th meal. True!
My family's 14 dishes offered, just to name a few, fish in coconut milk and fish with vegetables. Spicy vegetables and vegetables cooked with the heart of the banana (a part of the tree) that is kind of sweet and spicy at the same time. Vegetable salads and cooked vegies. There were jello salads and Buko Salad.There were several meat dishes- poultry, pork and beef. And rice, of course. White and fried.
Every house you enter is setting out its best. As I walk up to a table I often feel that little thrill that is a combination of joy at having been included and humility that the family is sharing so much when they sometimes have so little for themselves. It is so easy to love when people are so giving.
I spent the day striding happily around town popping into families and then returning home. After leaving Rachiel's I stopped at Mare's, but they were still at church, so I went to visit Mam Zaraspe. She lives in a neighborhood I'd never been to ,alone, before. I wasn't sure of her house but I knew that would be no problem. In an area about the size of 1/2 block there are about 10 houses amongst the fields and they belong to various families, all related somehow. This is common here. I asked a little girl for Mam Zaraspe, and sure enough, she pointed kitty corner. Mam had a killer Flan! She saw I liked it so she gave me two to take home. I chuckled to myself..."Like taking coals to Newcastle", I thought. I was really having fun by then. I'd return home to say hi and meet newly arrived visitors, then go out again.
Every house I stopped at, every interaction, was a boost to my mood until by about mid-morning I was just having a ball, as I knew I would. I've become used to the holiday emotional pattern and I know I'll feel happy as I get moving. It is really fun, like being a little girl again, and the town is my playground and I get to skip around and visit playmates all day- no responsibilities. What a unique time in my life. 
I went to Mam Ana's and talked to her sister-in-law, who is in Canada, via Skype. After the fun visit I returned home but I got a text that they had forgotten to take pictures and would I please return. Like I say, if I had known how photographed I'd be I would have had plastic surgery before I came. Not.
So it went all day. In the afternoon Amy came from Ibaan with 2 friends and after visiting with my fam we all went to visit Mam Arlene, Mam Rachiel and Mare.
After the Ibaan folks left I went back up to Don Luis to see Rachiel's fam and Mare and my favorite Kamote(fried sweet-potatoes) vender. She sells in the town square but she and her family live in Don Luis, by Rachiel and Mare. While I was visiting at her house I got to talking to two young men who fervently want to improve their English. We talked for awhile and out of that I have a new project. Starting this Sunday I am teaching Adult English Class for two hours, 10 to 12Noon. They were incredulous that it would be free, and excited when they realized that was the case. All they have to bring is a notebook and ballpen (as it's called here).
My last visit was with Mare, sitting in her bahay kubo (open sided Nipa Hut) and quietly talking. That, of course, after tasting her tempting foods. Then a good-night to Rachiel and fam and Pare took me home in the tricycle.
When I got home my family was relaxing around the big table in the kitchen. Maricar was still washing pots, God love her. The rest of us just sat. Plum tuckered out and gratified by the successful party. Or in my case, partying. We do have a lot to fiesta about.

                                                            Thank you, San Jose.