FILIPINO FOOT-IN-MOUTH DISEASE
People can be so insensitive these days.
Have you ever woken up wondering if you were the only person in this world who was brought up properly by your parents? Filipinos, in particular, are guilty of verbal faux pas which would make the average American W.A.S.P. cringe. To hear some of our kababayans talk, you would think they were born natural contortionists, able to put their feet in their mouths at the most inopportune moments.
When Americans greet each other, they usually say, "How are you?" or "How's it going?" Latinos would similarly say, "Como estas?" The usual Chinese greeting, I hear, is somehow geared to the stomach, a Chinese version of "Have you eaten yet?" while Aussies hail everyone with a friendly "G'day!". However, these greetings seem hopelessly harmless and tame next to the Filipino's usual mode of salutation, a snide, almost too heartily spoken "Tumataba ka 'ata!", which mercilessly translates to "Are you getting fatter?"
I sometimes wonder if a mean streak runs in our race. Just because I had the misfortune to cross paths with you once before, do you now think you have the God-given right to verbally mince me to pieces? These very same people would be taken aback if I countered with "Excuse me, but aren't we getting a little familiar here? I mean, I only know you from the checkout counter at the Oriental store!" And THEN they call you mataray!
I remember this one incident at Channel 9. Lorenzo was helping me out of the car, as I was already blissfully pregnant with our first son, Lance. I stepped out of my Cefiro to the malevolent stare of a former Binibining Pilipinas International. This lady was icily beautiful, with a wispy, wafer-thin figure. She took one look at my burgeoning belly and bitchily asked, "tumataba ka?" I was so close to quoting a line from "Romy and Michele's High School Reunion", but instead of saying "I'm pregnant, stupid!", I just flashed her with a victorious smile, cooing "buntis ako, hindi mo alam?"
Lorenzo and this girl were the lead ramp models in Pitoy Moreno's series of fashion shows in the U.S.. (To those of you who haven't met him, my husband is drop-dead gorgeous, with a Greek god's body to boot!) I also know for a fact that she tried propositioning him on the flight from Washington DC to New York, separating him from the rest of the pack and innocently confiding that "sometimes she felt like cheating on her boyfriend". Her manipulative machinations didn't work, however, to her utter humiliation. Instead, Lorenzo rushed to meet me in Miami right after their show in New York, meeting up with them again five days later in time for their San Francisco show. I can still remember him showing up at the door of my hotel room with six dozen roses, a surprise for my birthday. Sorry girl, talo ang inis!
And then there was my notorious second meeting with Julio Diaz, one-time bold actor turned "respectable" thespian. I first met Julio at a Metrobank commercial shoot, where he was assistant director and Lorenzo played the lead. I still remember what I was wearing at the time, a sleek black mini-skirted Cache scuba suit which was once featured on Vogue. At the time I still had the whistlebait figure to show it off to advantage, borne of an addiction to ballroom dancing coupled with discreet lipo sessions with my friend, Vicky Belo. Lorenzo introduced me to Julio, who was quite polite and played the perfect gentleman.
Fast forward a year and a half, when Julio and I crossed paths the second time around. Lorenzo and Julio were in the same cast, filming Nick de Ocampo's movie, "Pedrong Palad" in Batangas. Again, I was pregnant with Lance, and boy, what a difference those few extra pounds made in Mr. Diaz's demeanor! The guy met me with a contemptible leer which I thought was uncomfortably a tad too "familiar". Instead of "Hi" or "Kumusta na?", the first words out of his mouth were "Anong nangyari sa 'yo?". I told him I was pregnant, pointing out the obvious, but that wasn't enough to shut him up. He tenaciously pursued his line of questioning like a rabid ferret, his next words being, "Sayang 'yung katawan mo noon ano?"
I did my best to stay away from him for the duration of the shoot, but I couldn't escape from him forever. Later that week, during a get-together with fellow cast members, Julio told Lorenzo "Ikaw talaga, sinira mo ang katawan nito!", pointing to me in front of Jaclyn Jose, Joonie Gamboa, Chin-Chin Guttierrez and Gerald Madrid, all of them obviously mortified at the beer-induced outburst. Clearly this man was not familiar with the finer points of delicadeza. Again, typically Pinoy.
And finally, there are friends and family members, who really should know better. My son, Lance, inherited his Dad's rosy moreno hue. His brother Troy, on the other hand, is the exact opposite, extremely fair-skinned and brown-haired. He looks just like my oldest son, Max, who is half-Caucasian. At a baptism last year, a fellow guest took one look at Troy's Bobbsie twin curls and blurted out, "bakit mestizo ang anak n'yo?" I wanted to say "Excuse me, ano'ng tingin mo sa 'kin, nognog?", but I just bit my tongue. I also happen to be quite fair-skinned, and my husband is often mistaken to be Mexican, Italian or Hawaiian, depending on what he's wearing. Is it such a stretch of the imagination to see us bear a fair-haired, lily-white baby?
It isn't too bad now, after Troy took full advantage of our pool last summer. But even just recently, Anna (my sister-in-law, no less) asked Lorenzo and me, "Bakit brown ang buhok ni Troy, hindi naman brown ang buhok ninyo?" Now Anna is a very nice person, and little transgressions of tact like this come few and far between, so it was easy to be forgiving. I just patiently pointed out that when I was Troy's age, I also had brown curls. Once again I wished I had brought my baby book back with me when I moved here from the Philippines, with my one remaining brown curl which my Mom religiously kept since I was a baby.
All this insensitivity really shouldn't get to me. After all, wasn't I the one who said "talo ang inis?" But really, it makes you wonder if these people see something malicious in the situation. I sometimes think they look at my husband in sympathy, thinking "sorry boss, mukhang nasalisihan ka 'ata!", never mind if Troy's eyes are singkit and his looks pure Sereno.
But with validation comes vindication. Kuya Simon and Ate Baby came back from San Diego tonight, with Ate Baby's Mom in tow. When Nanay saw Troy for the first time, her very first words were a delighted "ay, si Chivas!". Sebastian (Chivas) is my nephew, Simon and Baby's second son. According to his lola, Troy looks exactly like Chivas did when he was the same age, brown curls and all. This came as no surprise to me, since Chivas' Mom, Ate Baby, gets the lion's share of the family's Chinese and Vietnamese jokes when I'm not around.
With this information in my arsenal, I have nothing else to fear. Let them come to me with pointed questions about Troy's genealogy. I can now refer to my nephew with impunity, authoritatively stating, "ganyan din ang mukha ni Chivas nung bata!". And then it would be MY turn to say, "Bakit cute ang anak n'yo eh pangit naman kayo?"
Remember, "talo ang inis!"
Thursday, December 25, 2003
NOCHE BUENA MANO
It's past 2 PM on Christmas Day, and everybody just got out of bed.
This may seem strange for some Westerners, but in the Philippines and in most Latin countries, Christmas festivities begin on the night before Christmas. In fact, Christmas Eve was one of those rare occasions when we were allowed to stay up late when we were kids, and we took full advantage, running around the house with our cousins, finally keeling over way into Christmas morning. This, of course, meant we were asleep for the most of Christmas Day, but we'd end up waking in the afternoon and returning to the holiday table for some delicious leftovers.
Many years later and many miles away, nothing much has changed. Remnants of last night's noche buena still inhabit our holiday table: my turbo roast chicken's not-so-neatly picked carcass, some Chinese take-out from Kuya Sever's place of work, a sprinkling of chicken and tuna salad filled croissants (courtesy of our local deli), and a lonely apple pie, still untouched in its foil pan. Reigning supreme over the holiday table, my baked ham with all the fixin's: scalloped potatoes, confetti corn medley and green bean casserole.
I opted for ham over turkey this year. Ham is nice and straightforward. It makes for a nice and festive main course straight out of the oven, and is great for sandwiches days after. When the meat is finally picked cleanly off the bone, you can still make a decent Split Pea and Ham Bone Soup as a fitting last hurrah.
And then there are the SERENO STAPLES, always requested for family get-togethers: Ate Baby's Pancit Palabok, Ate Maricel's Binagoongang Baboy, Anna's Original Ilocano Sinanglaw, and my Chicken Enchiladas and Leche Flan. Unfortunately, only two of these favorites made it to the ranks this year. Ate Baby's Palabok is missing in action because Kuya Simon celebrated Christmas with his in-laws in San Diego, and Ate Maricel brought a corned beef brisket instead of the usual Binagoongan. I couldn't make my Leche Flan because Lorenzo forgot my mold at work when he brought this year's only holiday flan to his boss. I ended up improvising for dessert, adding a Thomas the Tank Engine cake topper to a standard snowman cake to the kids' delight. I called my creation Thomas' Winter Wonderland. The fact that Troy wouldn't let it out of his sight was a testament to its' success.
Today the cake looks forlorn, devoid of its decor. Numerous pockmarks bear witness to Troy's poking fingers. Just as I thought, the kids lost interest as soon as Thomas was out of the picture.
I whip up a new batch of enchiladas when I spot a newcomer to the table. It seems my next-door neighbor, Marta, sent some of her tamales over. I look around for something to offer her in return. I pass up on the enchiladas, since Marta is Mexican. Luckily, Anna's leftover sinanglaw is bubbling merrily on the stove. I ladle out a generous portion and give it to Marta's daughters, telling them it's the Filipino version of menudo. (While menudo in the Philippines is a meat dish made up of beef or pork and liver, Menudo in Mexico is tripe soup.)
My living room is still strewn with bits and pieces of gift-wrap. Every year, it is a Sereno family tradition to collect all the presents and lay them in one huge pile. At the stroke of midnight, a designated uncle would put on the Santa Hat (last night, it was reindeer horns, since the Santa Hat stayed in San Jose), take over the karaoke mic, and pick out a present from the pile, announcing the giver and receiver. This would go on until all the presents were gone or until Santa was hoarse trying to yell above the din, after which designated elves (aka nephews and nieces) were dispatched to do the delivering.
Lance and Troy are dancing with excitement. As in Christmases past, they were allowed to open their presents from the family on Christmas Eve, but Mommy and Daddy's presents were off limits until Christmas Day and the days after. We only let them open one present a day. This way, they get to play with their new toy the whole day without getting distracted by other, more interesting gifts. I find that they appreciate things more this way.
Last night, they got a preview of what to expect from this year's batch of goodies when they opened Uncle Simon's presents: a Thomas the Tank Engine video and a wooden train for each of them. These eclipsed all the other presents in the lot, and effectively ended the party hours after, when they insisted on turning off the karaoke system so that they could watch their Thomas videos. Today, we decided to prolong their viewing pleasure by handing them their first present from Mom and Dad, a Thomas DVD for each. Hopefully, they don't see through our simple strategy: have them watch Thomas all day so that Mommy and Daddy can catch up on their rest!
One of the first Christmas tree ornaments I bought this year was a Thomas the Tank Engine ornament. This is because I will always remember 2003 as a Thomas the Tank Engine year for my boys. Their love affair with Thomas started when my mother visited us from New York last June. We took her to the California Railroad Museum in Sacramento, where they had an ongoing event called Thomas' Day Out. Lance and Troy got to ride on Thomas and shake hands with Sir Topham Hat. When we got home, I borrowed all the Thomas videos I could find from the library and the love affair began. Now they have almost all of Thomas' DVDs, a growing collection of Thomas books, and of course, the trains themselves. Lance and Troy wore Thomas outfits for Troy's 2nd birthday party, and Troy even wore a Thomas the Tank Engine costume, complete with engineer's hat, for Halloween.
I glance at the pile of presents still unopened. I recognize the contents by their shapes: some Thomas books, two Take Along Thomas sets (complete with railroad, fences, trees, horses and a clock tower), and six battery-operated trains: Thomas, Henry and Toby for Troy, and Percy, Gordon and James for Lance. Of course, there are other, non-Thomas presents as well, but these were relegated to the bottom of the pile.
Lorenzo and I manage to catch a few precious moments alone, while the first DVD, Troy's "Cranky Bugs and Other Tales" played. Soon the kids would be bugging us again, asking us to replace the disc with Lance's new DVD. Whenever they felt like taking a break, they would retire to their new spring horse, courtesy of Auntie Sel. This spring horse was like no other when we saw it at Toys R' Us: it was huge, hand painted, and definitely heirloom material. It had a nice price tag too: almost $150 after taxes, but thanks to a generous ninang, it was now noisily broadcasting stampede noises all over our home.
We hear a commotion. The familiar voices of our kids squabbling. Soon, Lance runs to us with a partially opened present: "Mooooommm, look what Troy did!!!" It was the Thomas books. Troy follows with a guilty look. Lorenzo and I give up on our sleep, which we now realize is an exercise in futility. Instead, we return to our holiday table and fix ourselves ham sandwiches. Soon the kids would tire of their viewing and request that we read their new books to them. Hopefully, our imaginative reading would somehow lull them to sleep. Then we could tuck them into bed and plug our karaoke mic into the TV.
Who says kids have all the fun?
It's past 2 PM on Christmas Day, and everybody just got out of bed.
This may seem strange for some Westerners, but in the Philippines and in most Latin countries, Christmas festivities begin on the night before Christmas. In fact, Christmas Eve was one of those rare occasions when we were allowed to stay up late when we were kids, and we took full advantage, running around the house with our cousins, finally keeling over way into Christmas morning. This, of course, meant we were asleep for the most of Christmas Day, but we'd end up waking in the afternoon and returning to the holiday table for some delicious leftovers.
Many years later and many miles away, nothing much has changed. Remnants of last night's noche buena still inhabit our holiday table: my turbo roast chicken's not-so-neatly picked carcass, some Chinese take-out from Kuya Sever's place of work, a sprinkling of chicken and tuna salad filled croissants (courtesy of our local deli), and a lonely apple pie, still untouched in its foil pan. Reigning supreme over the holiday table, my baked ham with all the fixin's: scalloped potatoes, confetti corn medley and green bean casserole.
I opted for ham over turkey this year. Ham is nice and straightforward. It makes for a nice and festive main course straight out of the oven, and is great for sandwiches days after. When the meat is finally picked cleanly off the bone, you can still make a decent Split Pea and Ham Bone Soup as a fitting last hurrah.
And then there are the SERENO STAPLES, always requested for family get-togethers: Ate Baby's Pancit Palabok, Ate Maricel's Binagoongang Baboy, Anna's Original Ilocano Sinanglaw, and my Chicken Enchiladas and Leche Flan. Unfortunately, only two of these favorites made it to the ranks this year. Ate Baby's Palabok is missing in action because Kuya Simon celebrated Christmas with his in-laws in San Diego, and Ate Maricel brought a corned beef brisket instead of the usual Binagoongan. I couldn't make my Leche Flan because Lorenzo forgot my mold at work when he brought this year's only holiday flan to his boss. I ended up improvising for dessert, adding a Thomas the Tank Engine cake topper to a standard snowman cake to the kids' delight. I called my creation Thomas' Winter Wonderland. The fact that Troy wouldn't let it out of his sight was a testament to its' success.
Today the cake looks forlorn, devoid of its decor. Numerous pockmarks bear witness to Troy's poking fingers. Just as I thought, the kids lost interest as soon as Thomas was out of the picture.
I whip up a new batch of enchiladas when I spot a newcomer to the table. It seems my next-door neighbor, Marta, sent some of her tamales over. I look around for something to offer her in return. I pass up on the enchiladas, since Marta is Mexican. Luckily, Anna's leftover sinanglaw is bubbling merrily on the stove. I ladle out a generous portion and give it to Marta's daughters, telling them it's the Filipino version of menudo. (While menudo in the Philippines is a meat dish made up of beef or pork and liver, Menudo in Mexico is tripe soup.)
My living room is still strewn with bits and pieces of gift-wrap. Every year, it is a Sereno family tradition to collect all the presents and lay them in one huge pile. At the stroke of midnight, a designated uncle would put on the Santa Hat (last night, it was reindeer horns, since the Santa Hat stayed in San Jose), take over the karaoke mic, and pick out a present from the pile, announcing the giver and receiver. This would go on until all the presents were gone or until Santa was hoarse trying to yell above the din, after which designated elves (aka nephews and nieces) were dispatched to do the delivering.
Lance and Troy are dancing with excitement. As in Christmases past, they were allowed to open their presents from the family on Christmas Eve, but Mommy and Daddy's presents were off limits until Christmas Day and the days after. We only let them open one present a day. This way, they get to play with their new toy the whole day without getting distracted by other, more interesting gifts. I find that they appreciate things more this way.
Last night, they got a preview of what to expect from this year's batch of goodies when they opened Uncle Simon's presents: a Thomas the Tank Engine video and a wooden train for each of them. These eclipsed all the other presents in the lot, and effectively ended the party hours after, when they insisted on turning off the karaoke system so that they could watch their Thomas videos. Today, we decided to prolong their viewing pleasure by handing them their first present from Mom and Dad, a Thomas DVD for each. Hopefully, they don't see through our simple strategy: have them watch Thomas all day so that Mommy and Daddy can catch up on their rest!
One of the first Christmas tree ornaments I bought this year was a Thomas the Tank Engine ornament. This is because I will always remember 2003 as a Thomas the Tank Engine year for my boys. Their love affair with Thomas started when my mother visited us from New York last June. We took her to the California Railroad Museum in Sacramento, where they had an ongoing event called Thomas' Day Out. Lance and Troy got to ride on Thomas and shake hands with Sir Topham Hat. When we got home, I borrowed all the Thomas videos I could find from the library and the love affair began. Now they have almost all of Thomas' DVDs, a growing collection of Thomas books, and of course, the trains themselves. Lance and Troy wore Thomas outfits for Troy's 2nd birthday party, and Troy even wore a Thomas the Tank Engine costume, complete with engineer's hat, for Halloween.
I glance at the pile of presents still unopened. I recognize the contents by their shapes: some Thomas books, two Take Along Thomas sets (complete with railroad, fences, trees, horses and a clock tower), and six battery-operated trains: Thomas, Henry and Toby for Troy, and Percy, Gordon and James for Lance. Of course, there are other, non-Thomas presents as well, but these were relegated to the bottom of the pile.
Lorenzo and I manage to catch a few precious moments alone, while the first DVD, Troy's "Cranky Bugs and Other Tales" played. Soon the kids would be bugging us again, asking us to replace the disc with Lance's new DVD. Whenever they felt like taking a break, they would retire to their new spring horse, courtesy of Auntie Sel. This spring horse was like no other when we saw it at Toys R' Us: it was huge, hand painted, and definitely heirloom material. It had a nice price tag too: almost $150 after taxes, but thanks to a generous ninang, it was now noisily broadcasting stampede noises all over our home.
We hear a commotion. The familiar voices of our kids squabbling. Soon, Lance runs to us with a partially opened present: "Mooooommm, look what Troy did!!!" It was the Thomas books. Troy follows with a guilty look. Lorenzo and I give up on our sleep, which we now realize is an exercise in futility. Instead, we return to our holiday table and fix ourselves ham sandwiches. Soon the kids would tire of their viewing and request that we read their new books to them. Hopefully, our imaginative reading would somehow lull them to sleep. Then we could tuck them into bed and plug our karaoke mic into the TV.
Who says kids have all the fun?
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