Author: rhodora

by Mita Q. Sison-Duque

ONE of the first “Seasons” columns I wrote for the Manila Bulletin pinpointed to an enemy of progress and well-being in our country. It was not the oil embargo, the inflation, nor the burgeoning world population, although the three could easily be contributory to the problem. Neither was it drugs, family disunity or education, or the lack of it. The Enemy, was Poverty.

We are not strangers to Poverty, but one that we had developed tolerance for in our everyday lives, through layers of generations, living or witnessing it. Little did I imagine that sometime in the future, The Enemy would rear its ugly head more tragically than what was possible, at the time, if only to make a point. Already, Poverty is being pointed to as the direct cause of a recent tragedy. I often imagined how we Filipinos, we of strong faith, could tolerate such difficulties without complaining, and for some more graphically than others, for its poverty even in the midst of plenty.

Today, year 2007, an eleven year old girl named Marianette from Davao, breaking the tradition of “upper stiff lip” and faith in a caring God, who provides our everyday needs, committed suicide, defeated by The Enemy. Was it a weakening of faith, a failure of our system to develop in our young moral values that sets our priorities straight, giving family life, respect for the elders and all old practices importance rather than instant gratification from material things? Of course, it is a totally difficult situation if meals are missed, and there is total absence of hope in a future. Is Marianette a much brighter child who cannot accept such living conditions, compared to the rest of what she sees, is a way of life for others, but not for her?

Barring mental illness which could affect even our young, the thought that a young girl on the brink of teen-hood and springtime, when girls dream of ribbons, dolls, dresses, ponytails and maybe the blush of an early first crush, tired of life’s hardships, ended it all, cowed by unrelenting inroads of poverty all of her eleven years of life. While it is true many Filipinos live a life akin to what Tevye described in a song in the Broadway play “Fiddler on the Roof” about life in Anatevka, an extremely impoverished Russian Village “ a little bit of this, a little bit of that, what have you got?”, suicide especially in the young was never a part of the equation. We are not a self-destructive people. We have strong Christian moorings that does not allow suicide. And definitely, we stare poverty in the face everyday, allowing us to step in tune with an acrobatic tempo to strike wherever Poverty misses a spot. More important, the suicide happened in the midst of the country’s generous economic gains, the pesos showing stamina vis-à-vis the U.S. dollar, a good sign of an upcoming economic health in the country.

Why? Although it is an isolated case, somehow it involves everyone. For indeed, when a child commits suicide, it strikes at the very soul of existence. Why does a child commit suicide?

Marianette’s suicide gives us a chance to examine ourselves at how we sometimes have become insensitive to our neighbor’s needs and how we as Christians act and care for those who have lesser than us. In the everyday grind of life, we sometimes miss the point of our humanity, our belonging to one human race and how we are answerable for our kind. In a way, the death of Marianette brings to a lead our shortcomings, we in our own individual way, and crystallizes how our society is becoming more callous to our neighbor’s needs, be they material or spiritual.

The suicide of a child is unfathomable, and makes all of us instant parents to those who need help. Still there are those who think only in terms of politics, equating a tragic event into one that smacks of failed administration of the country’s economy. To them healing is long in coming.

(Note: Ms Duque also writes for People’s Digest Newsweekly, a community newspaper circulated in Pangasinan, Region I and other parts of Luzon. She has authored two books: “Embraced by Sun” and “In the Beginning…A Nation, A President”.) 

This bracelet rosary I bought for myself in Manaoag Church here in Pangasinan two Sundays ago. My daughter egged me on visiting the shrine of the miraculous Virgen Milagrosa de Manaoag, for want of spiritual upliftment before going back to school for the second semester. Also, she wanted to buy some religious items to give as tokens to her classmates who are going for a six-month internship in Beijing, China at the end of November.

Here are more items we bought:

Mini rosaries

Bracelet with crucifix for my mother who, at 86, still fancies wearing bead necklaces and bracelets. 🙂 And oh, that is my chubby wrist in picture by the way.

_________________________

I am not really a devout Catholic, but my daughter is. She religiously goes to church every Sunday and is in fact a very active member of the Filipino-Chinese Catholic Youth. Most of the time, she admonishes me: “Mama, bakit hindi ka nagsisimba?” (Mama, why don’t you want to hear mass?)

Not that I don’t want to. But I just can’t move my butt to go to church on Sundays, especially when I have to do the marketing and grocery shopping on these days. These tasks just stress me a lot because when I get home after shopping, I have to arrange everything in the cabinets and refrigerator. You see, I usually make it a point to have everything ready for cooking before storing them in the ref. This means marinating the pork chops; segregating the chicken in packs in such a way that one pack is good for one cooking; washing and draining the fish and so on, aside from cleaning the refrigerator and at the same time getting rid of expired left overs. Hence, by the time I finish, I am already too tired that I just want to sleep the whole afternoon.

But I do pray. I have a quiet time and place, known to nobody but me. And I have great trust in God.

I also recite the rosary. I believe in the intercession of the Blessed Mother, especially when someone in the family is ill.

Religious articles such as those in the above photos are just objects. Many non-Catholics question (or mock) the Catholics’ veneration of such objects. However I beg to disagree. For me, it is not the beads that I venerate when I say the Holy Rosary. It is not the wooden statue that I worship when praying before an image. To me, all these “objects” are merely symbols. And my faith is not on the symbol itself but on what the symbol stands for.

Live and let live. Peace I give to all.

If you have noticed, I have a new design. For this, I thank Wilson, my techie friend.

It was Wilson who introduced me to blogging… err… it was blogging that introduced me to Wilson. Oh well. Whichever way – either the chicken or the egg came first – doesn’t change the fact that Wilson is certainly the guy behind the creation of this blogsite.

If not for Wilson, I wouldn’t be here blogging my blues and thoughts away and sharing/exchanging comments with my readers out there. If not for him, I wouldn’t have met new friends online and offline, nor discovered more things I thought I knew but did not in fact know about.

Who would think that a techno-challenged mom like me who knew nothing more than sending and retrieving emails in the internet would someday be a blogging mom? Cool. Yeah. My kids initially showed repulsion about my getting into blogging. But to my amusement – they even now suggest topics for me to blog about. And I think they also love it when I feature them in my posts. Hehe.

So for all the joys that blogging has brought me, and for this new design, maraming salamat, Wilson!

(Note: Wilson Chua is the president of Bitstop Inc. a company based in Dagupan City which provides various computer technology services in Pangasinan and other parts of the country and has been operating since 1989, making it one of the pioneer companies providing such services in this city.)

Now, on to a gastronomic topic.

My favorite native veggie dish:

Here is my favorite native veggie dish.

The way it’s cooked, I should say – is very Ilocano. Very Ilocano in the sense that it’s not sauteed. You see, genuine Ilocanos never sautee or stir fry their vegetables. They just bring water to a boil, dump all the ingredients at the same time in the pot then let it simmer till everything is perfectly done.

I can hardly speak Ilocano. Basit laeng (just a little). But my maternal grandmother was a pure Ilocana. It was probably from her that I got my Ilocano taste.

I believe that when it comes to food, Filipinos have varied preferences. I call it the “regional taste” which is much like the regional differences amongst us Pinoys who are spread in all the 7,100 islands of our glorious country. For instance, the Pampangos and Tagalogs prefer their vegetable dishes sauteed in little oil or butter. Only few of them can probably appreciate an Ilocano vegetable dish that is simply boiled and seasoned with salt or bagoong.

The veggie dish you see above (called “dinengdeng” in Ilocano dialect) was cooked by my husband. There, I admitted it. LOL! Let’s just say that I can’t eat what I cook. I guess this is a common phenomenon. Thus, one time when I suddenly had a craving for this particular vegetable dish, I requested my hubby to cook.

So, do you want to know how he prepared it? Here’s how:

GREEN PAPAYA WITH CAMOTE TOPS AND BROILED FISH

INGREDIENTS:

medium sized green papaya

bunch of camote tops

broiled bangus or any fish

ginger

garlic

bagoong sauce or patis or salt (bagoong tastes much better)

PROCEDURE:

Peel the papaya and slice thinly. Crush the garlic cloves and slice the ginger thinly.

In an earthen pot or aluminum cooking pot, place around 3 and 1/2 cups of water. Add the garlic and ginger. Bring to a boil. Add about 3 tablespoons of bagoong sauce, depending on your taste. Add the broiled bangus or fish. Simmer. Add the sliced green papaya. Cook until crisp tender. Add the camote tops. Simmer. Serve hot.

You can also vary this recipe by adding camote fruit, which will pleasantly make it a complete meal of carbohydrates, vitamins and minerals and protein. Then you don’t need to eat rice anymore, which is perfect for those who want to lessen their carbo intake.

I have a revelation to make.

My husband was not my first boyfriend. Oh well – that is not surprising, I know. In fact it is as ordinary as ordinary and normal as normal – at least – based on today’s standards.

However, our case was quite different. I was currently engaged when he wooed me. My boyfriend and me that time were on a cool off period – sort of testing how the physical and geographical separation would affect our relationship.

Then I met my future husband. It was a whirlwind courtship we had. And up until now, I can’t understand what power he cast on me that made me say yes to him and break off with my then boyfriend. We met in July 1980, got engaged in November, married in civil rites in December of the same year and wed in church in March of 1981. I was literally swept off my feet and before I knew it – I was living in a new world.

Soon, the kids started coming. We got busy and both our time was completely devoted to our growing family. We had no time to regret. No time to reflect. No time even to think of personal pleasures. True, there were many instances we had fights and threatened separations. But we loved our children so and neither he nor I could bear the thought of breaking our family and consequently breaking our children’s hearts.

It’s been twenty six years. Lately, I often find my husband in a reflective mood. Sometimes he asks me questions he never asked before. And one of these is: “Do you love me?”

Do I love him?

I admit, dumping my boyfriend did not come easy. After all, we had three full years of relationship behind us. But I believed it was all God’s will. God knew that my future with my boyfriend was uncertain so He gave me the one really meant for me.

But do I love him?

“Do you love me?” he insists to know.

For my answer, click here.

To my husband: I hope this issue will now rest in peace.

 

Last ‘Undas’ when all my three kids were home and we were one whole family again, I was constantly on my toes as each one of them would call out “Mama” almost at the same time all the time.

 

“Ma, si Kuya o – ayaw akong pahiramin ng PSP niya!” Gem squealed.

“Ma, magluto ka ng masarap na ulam!” Aypee requested.

“Ma, ang gulo nitong dalawa, o – nagtatrabaho ako dito, e!” Marco complained.

 

And to think they are not little kids anymore! Marco, 25, Aypee, 23 and Gem, 17!

 

The whole time that they were all here, the living room was transformed into a dining and sleeping area. A mattress was laid in the middle, where Marco slept when tired from working with his laptop, and where they would all wrestle when someone threw a challenge. “Kuya Aypee, wrestling tayo! Ang mananalo, siya ang maglalaro sa PSP!” Can you imagine Gem doing that dare? But of course, I had to stop them. “Gem, huwag kang sumali sa laro ng mga lalaki. Masasaktan ka lang.”

 

Aaah! Everything was a mess!

 

Jeez! I think I will seriously consider constructing a separate room/office for me on the second floor of our house. Then I can have all the peace I need and want when bugged by my three overgrown tots. That is – if they don’t hound me there too. Hehe.