Good Food

Friday, January 27, 2012

My wife made tinola isda - fish soup - today. I ate it for both lunch and supper. With fresh greens from the garden; lemon grass from the yard, just outside the fence; squash, onions, garlic, peppers and okra from the market, it ranks number one on my list of tasty and healthy foods.

The fish is always the day’s catch, bought from our fisherman/neighbors or from the market in town, and it’s almost always delicious. Today’s variety was one I’m not familiar with. It had a smooth, nutty-buttery kind of flavor, similar to yellow fin tuna, but milder. The flesh was very white and solid, not quite as solid as tuna, but close.

The greens warrant a more detailed description. The tastiest is one called alugbati. (I don’t know if there is an English word for it.) It is dark green and similar to spinach, but I think the taste is much better. Then there is malonggay, which is the small green leaves of the tree by the same name. The leaves are round and smaller than a penny. The taste is very mild. Malonggay has more concentrated nutrition than just about any other plant on the planet. Google it, if you are interested. It’s also called Kalamonggay. Last in our lunch and supper pot was camote tops, which are the green leaves of a native sweet potato. Camote tops are also packed full of nutrition and are tasty, however they are used.

My system is not used to a “strictly healthy” diet, so I balanced out all that nutrition with some coconut bread and a cup of malted milk (Milo) and coffee. In my estimation, coconut bread deserves a post all to itself. Briefly though…well…it’s just damn good! And it’s made in a wood-fired oven just a few blocks from here. 

Going with the Flow

Friday,  January 20, 2012

Grumble, grumble, grumble, pee and moan. It was just the mood I was in. Don't bother me about how I should have been in a better one, it would just piss me off. Goody-two-shoes and forever-on-the-righteous-road, beware! I ain't in the mood.

It can happen anywhere in the world; under the best of circumstances. It started when I woke up this morning. The sun had an ornery glare to it, as it passed through a dusty jalousy window and pierced my eyeballs. My wife was sleeping peacefully beside me. That could have been a slight smirk on her face and it rubbed me the wrong way. What nerve, to be sleeping  like a baby, right beside me, when life was a burr in my underwear.

I got out of bed hoping for something to go wrong, so I could work up a full of head of steam in the direction I was traveling. I was thrown a curve ball in the form of a little, half-pint, two year-old. She got up right after me, smiling her usual sweet smile and asking for num num. A change in attitude took hold of me before I could set a solid course for screwing up my whole day with a bad mood. In a matter of minutes Shane and I were sitting together on the porch, looking for ships on the sea, singing Barney songs and munching on yesterday's bread.

Life is Good.

I Can Smell the Sea Again!!

It is New Year’s Day, 2012. I’m home, sitting at the kitchen table. Shane is asleep in the hammock, on the front porch. I have the door open so I can hear her and look around the corner of the jam to give an occasional check. Frederick, Jan Mark and Clyde left to walk to the internet shop about half an hour ago. I like this quiet time when the kids are gone or asleep. 

Our septic tank was overflowing for the past week. Every flush gave our noses a fresh reminder of a part of the human condition that, with due cause, is seldom the focus of everyday chatter. But when the septic tank overflows we are reminded that the lowly and the great all put out the same crap. Maybe its not a nice thing to think about or proper to mention, but Marilyn Monroe pooped and peed, ever since birth. So did Thomas Edison, Alexander the Great, and Einstein. No more, though. They're all dead. But I'm still alive and pooping (as of this writing), and thankful for the opportunity.

Well,  because of today's diggings, there's a new hole in the ground next to the old one and a pipe that connects the two. When the old one overflows, it drains into the new one. Hopefully, we won't have to add a third or a fourth hole. I wouldn't want people thinking we have that much shit to offer the world.

Happy New Year!!!!!

Thinking Through the Beer

Dec. 24, 2011

I just had a beer at Millenium Park, by the sea wall, in the market area. A gay guy I know came up to me and asked how many beers I was buying. "Just one." I replied. He was with about 12 other guys and I was thinking that he wanted me to buy for the whole group. Though many people here think I am rich and can afford whatever they ask for, I spend money judiciously and I definitely don't contribute to something as useless as a bunch of guys getting drunk together while their families are home with nothing to eat but rice. It happens, all-to frequently. And I use my money for our family, not for pleasing those who want to capitalize on the "rich" guy. I took my beer and walked away, toward the sea. When I walked back a little while later, he said something else and then I heard him say, to the group of guys he was drinking with, "... or else I will tell your wife" and then he let out  a chuckle.

I think he had a few more than was good for him. I was a little pissed at his "joke", and was tempted to call him on it. I said nothing and walked away. If I see him by himself on a sober afternoon, I will pull him aside and ask about the substance of his threat.

My wife would tell me that I should not do such things and that I should just let it drop. I might. Probably not, though.

Confrontations are rare here and when one does occur, drinking usually plays a part, as it often does in the United States (and probably the world over). However, I feel much safer here, day or night, than I have ever felt in the places I've lived or frequented in the U.S.

Poop Hits the Diaper Here; Shit Hits the Fan in Mindanao

It's Saturday evening, the seventeenth of December. Shane is sitting in my lap and we are watching children's videos: Barney, Sesame Street, the ABC song, Old Macdonald, etc. I'm kind of burned out on it myself. Shane makes no complaint. In fact, she asks for the same ones over and over. I suppose kids are programmed that way, to facilitate learning. It's funny, even though the videos and songs have worn an all-to-familiar groove in my grey matter, I still enjoy Shane's delight over them. And she loves to get me involved. She takes my hands and makes them clap or  wraps my arms around her tummy or hugs my arms. She loves to have that sort of contact, many times a day.

We just got back from Millennium Park, which sits next to the sea wall, on the other side of the market. I took her there so she could run and play. I bought a beer at one of the outdoor shops and talked with the owner for while.

Today started on the tail end of a typhoon which hit Mindanao, the big island south of us, pretty hard. A subdivision was wiped out and all it's occupants were killed when a river overflowed its banks. The homes were built on low ground. Over 100 died.

We are very fortunate here. Although we get lots of rain and a fair amount of wind, during a typhoon, we get much less than the brunt of the storm has to offer, as we are protected on the east side by the mountains in the center of the island, and on the west by the island of Negros, which has mountains up to 10,000 feet.

The diminutive waves slam against the seawall: nothing more than a reminder of what could be and what others suffer through.

Ahem. Excuse me. I zoned out for a minute. I was watching India Arie sing the alphabet song with Elmo, on a Sesame Street video. That lady has class and beauty and a great voice and she moves like silk in a soft breeze. Elmo's eyes were bugging out the whole time. It's the way he is made: eyeballs sewn on the outside of his furry head. My eyes returned to their sockets shortly after the video ended. But then Nora Jones sang about the letter "Y" and.... Never mind.

I just brought Shane back from the bathroom and changed her diaper. She had said, "Libang, hon", which means she pooped. She is very good about letting us know. "Elmo's Potty Time", was the video playing when we got back.What timing. I think it's a cute video, but then, my sense of humor sits close to the bottom of the barrel. Here's the link, in case it's something that interests you.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PqLMcyUFrSA&feature=BFa&list=PL411188CB5E494C57&lf=rellist

Late Night Rambler

Its 2:45AM. Long past midnight. Emelie came back from the disco about an hour ago. She's the secretary of the organization to raise money for the upkeep of the chapel in her little citio, Combalbag. Once a year, they hold the disco. I was there last year. I danced until my lungs hurt, charged with the heady excitement of mood, music and movement, until my wife pulled the plug. "You danced like a cow that just broke free of its chains" she told me. She brought me back to myself with that one! We laughed all the way down the hill to her house.

There is nothing unusual about my time spent here in the Philippines but every day feels like a special event. I wonder if this is because I am in a foreign country or because of the life style I've chosen to live. There is irony in the fact that I have always thought of settling down and having kids as a very boring way to live your life. Next to being dead; just passing the time until that final moment.

And now? Well, life is damn exciting having two teenage boys and a two year-old girl to watch after. I enjoy it to the same degree that I dreaded the thought of it for all those years of my life. Interesting how my perceptions got in the way of experiencing a part of life so wonderful. Got any more misconceptions, Mr. Schroeder? I'm sure I do. Ha!

I spent the evening, with the little one, in our internet cafe. On a thin pad designed for one, the two of us huddled close together between the money table and the wall. Shane wrapped herself around one leg of the table as if it was a life preserver. We listened to smooth jazz on our office computer. I'd had enough of Barney, Old MacDonald, The ABC song and such. (I can't seem to get kid's songs out of my head these days.)

Emelie left us 'on the sneak'. She didn't want Shane to know she was leaving. Since her mother left, over a month ago now, Shane clings to Emelie, the real life preserver in her little life. My wife is wonderful with her. She knows just what to do in almost every situation - in contrast to me.

I have a myopic view of raising kids: make'em laugh, keep them entertained for about 20 years, and let them fill in the gaps when they get old enough to figure out how much I left out. Having never had kids before, I can't say that its a tried and true method. It's just a way I developed and perfected years ago for passing the time with kids until their parents come to pick them up, after I've gotten them wound up tight, silly and bouncing off the walls. Now I get to hang around them long enough to see the results of the mess I created. It ain't pretty. But Emelie steps in and cleans up after me. She gets the kids' heads out of the silly gases that float through the clouds, where I left them. I get a little scolding or just a stern look for it, but it's a small price for bringing order and sanity back to our family.

Well, time for me to return to the mat. I'm tired. Maybe Shane won't do one of her violent, mid-sleep rolls on me tonight. Last night I got slapped in the face with both hands and kicked with one of those little feet that is attached to a tiny, but powerful leg.

Good Night All..