rock n roll

We spent Saturday driving around from South San Francisco (to take the twins to their first swim lesson), to Union City for a money group meeting, then back up to Vacaville to visit Tomo Hiteo at Rock N Roll Sushi.

While we had been bringing the twins swimming at our pool, this was the first time that they would be in a large pool with tons of other kids and people in it. The class was half an hour, the hubby and a friend of the sister-in-law sat in the bleachers while the sister-in-law and I took the kids in. The first class was more of an orientation to the water, with ages between 14 months and 3 years. We learned a few songs that the adults would lift the kids in and out of the water. I think the adults got more exercise than the kids, since we had to lift them in and out of the pool. The class was only 30 minutes, which I think was just right as one of the twins hit her breaking point in terms of information/sensation overload and started melting down. We managed to get them dressed and walk the block and a half back to the house.

At money group, had a discussion of the various bailouts, what do they mean, how we got into this mess, and kinds of things to prepare financially to weather the storm. Another member showed off their Warriors Season tickets that they thought they wouldn't be able to afford for another 10 years, but that through their personal money management were able to jump in now. We also gave some tips to one member whose husband works at a call center and who has to deal with a slew of irate callers day in and day out. It's a difficult job with little training on how to really deal with people. We gave him some tips that essentially create a game of it, where he can doodle what he thinks the people look like, since he's an artist or put in a dollar to a jar whenever he's answered the "crazy of the day". When you are faced with dealing with that many irate people on a constant basis, it's easy to start to think, maybe they're normal and I'm crazy. Hopefully, the change in mindset of how he views his work will help him with his stress levels.

We couldn't linger too long at money group, and headed back up to Oakland to pick up a couple of friends to head to Vacaville. We hadn't seen Tomo since he left a restaurant in Pleasanton. Fortunately, he often calls us when he lands at his next restaurant. But, we hadn't been able to get up to Vacaville til now. We had almost forgotten how dining with him is more a culinary stimulation than a dining experience.

The experience is rather very simple. Sit at the bar, ask what's fresh, point to other interesting things, tell him you're full, then stop. It's actually challenging keeping up with how rapidly he prepares the next dish. None of the items are on the actual restaurant menu. Often, his coworkers nor the regular patrons there have any idea the level at which he can prepare dishes, so he gets quite a crowd when he serves things. He understands that most people want what they know as sushi, the rolls, some sushi, so for the most part he prepares that. But if he gets a chance to test out his constantly developing menu on some one, he will. You can see the wheels of his mind turn when you simply ask for uni (sea urchin). In any case, the food is always always extremely fresh. We ask for some things, then he offers up others. For example, we had quite a few scallops since they were very very fresh that day.

We've been watching him develop his "menu" and watched him go through a phase where he was obsessed with southwest flavors: bbq, cactus syrup, hot sauce. When we saw him last, he commented how Americans love to taste the sauces and not the fish, which he commented with a bit of disdain. But I noticed how he actually started to use more and more sauces, layers of them, yet in every dish, none of the sauces overpowered each other nor masked the flavor of the fish.

Our menu included the following dishes that I can remember for now:
-Salmon (sashimi is basic sauces)
-monkfish liver - which he marinates in white wine for a week to get rid of the heaviness. this dish is topped with roe and gold flakes, on a leaf of sashimi leaf that has a minty-basillyness to it.
-marinated oyster wrapped in smoked salmon and topped with roasted rice
-a slightly spicy fish cocktail
-uni served on top of sweet-shrimp with the tail toasted crunchy so you could eat that too
-scallops in a milky green tea sauce
-super white tuna - topped with a thin slice of jalapeno
-bbq hamachi - on a mini flame pot fueled by vodka and rubbing alcohol. I had this in one of the first times we met him, when he used a different fuel. The alcohol left no extra bad flavors on the fish. We took it off with the fish half cooked which made for a lovely texture contrast.
-tako/octopus - a relatively simple serving, which is fine because his octopus is so tender, steamed for 17 minutes, no more, no less; he tells us octopus is good for women to eat, enhances mental capacities (we're not sure why it only works for women)
-aji/mackerel wrapped in sashimi leaf and seaweed, tempura fried with layers of green tea sauce and soy sauce - a great crunchy outside with the fish melting in the middle

ooh I think this is all of it. I had only remembered 9 dishes last night, but it looks like we made it through 10. whew! And while we were all full, none of us felt heavy. What I love about Tomo's food is that the freshness and marrying of flavors really makes you feel lighter. We also drank an ultra premium sake, I think it said Heikkenien or something like that on the bottle.

And again, the second the first dish was in our mouths, the 2nd dish was already plated to be served.

The drive back, the hubby drove, speeding back at 80 mph feeling energized from it.

Distance is not an obstacle when the experience you get at the end is really immeasurable.

cuz they said please

Sunday mornings I usually go to my teacher's kali class in the morning in Oakland Chinatown, unless I'm out of town, have a family function or what not. But I got an important phone message that changed my plans for tomorrow.

Today my dad wanted to see what wooden bowling lanes were like since Albany Bowl is all synthetic. So we went over the hills and into the hotter interior to Clayton Bowl in Concord. Although the walk to the building was scorching, inside was empty and cool. We played three games. By the third game, my arm was worn out and decided to try hitting the pins with as little strength as possible, which we call Guido-ball, named after a guy named Guido who bowled in such a fashion. I made it to the pins maybe twice. Guido could get there every ball with 9s and strikes nonetheless.

Since we didn't have a Father's day lunch we him and he scored a 200 game, we decided to head to Benihana which we passed on the freeway and had the entertaining dinner at 2p complete with shrimp tail tossing and onion volcano. The food was tasty though not completely to die for, but hey you go there for the entertainment.

My phone rings and I get a call from the sister-in-law that I decide to check later.

The message has a small little voice say:

Auntie, Can I go swimming tomorrow in your pool? If you have time. ok talk to you later. bye.

OK maybe not that articulate and it was completely coached by her mom in the background and every other word was kind of mumbled and slurred a bit. Like swimming is more like "schwimming" as if this 2.5 yr old has watched Wayne's World too many times. But oh so cute. You can't help but smile and laugh.

I called the sister-in-law back and let them know we had time in the morning to go swimming. As much as I like going to kali class, going swimming in the morning on a day like today sounded like a MUCH BETTER proposition.

Kali has taught me the value of making sure to take advantage of opportunity. And one never passes up the opportunity for joy.

cheap drinks

It's been a food filled weekend.

Scored a couple trays of leftover bbq pulled pork and now I'm trying to discover different ways to work that into dishes. I gave most of the food away since the two of us can't eat that much meat.

Saturday was a fun filled day. In the morning kali seminar focused on ground fighting. Of course, it turned out that I was one of the few people who could still really do the ground fighting with the rule of thumb being, "if you can still pick yourself up off the ground..." Alot of the guys in particular had already worn out their knees from the years of hard hitting karate and tae kwon do styles. Part of it looked more like movie stunts, like lying on your back and rolling away before a 3-sectional staff comes crashing onto the ground where you were. So yeah, you better move, I don't care how tired you are. We also practiced some throws on the grass and tumbling which I hadn't done in years and wasn't all that interested to tumble on the grass. All I can say is that gravity is exhausting.

Afterwards, spent the afternoon swimming with the nieces. They arrived around 3. We went to greet them at the mini-van where the parents were cleaning up both of the kiddie seats as the twins decided to puke in union. oh yeah. While we went swimming, the hubby did laundry of the car seat covers and accompanying clothing. That's not a whole lot of lounging either since the twins weren't all that happy sitting in their nice inflatable seats. And it took us forever to inflate those things! But I liked the water so much more than the ground. The nice part is that the kids aren't too grumpy when it's time to come out of the pool, since now they know that they can come back fairly often.

Since the sister-in-law is part of the Rosenblum Cellar wine club, we headed to Alameda and got there about 30 minutes before closing and tried out 5 of their wines. I ended up buying a bottle of their North Coast Zinfandel and the Santa Barbara Roussanne which is perfect for a nice summer day. The hubby stayed in the car with the kids. 2 out of 3 of them were fine with the whole thing.

Next stop was Hangar One, which is down the street from Rosenblum. A $10 fee gets you a glass and taste of all their spirits which was at least a dozen from their liqueurs to their whiskeys. We shared it between the three of us which was enough to just coat your tongue with a taste. You can get completely wasted if we had gotten one each. Then they wanted to try some absinthe which is a separate $10 tasting but again you get to keep the glass. They have one of the best absinthes on the market today. We waited for the ice to melt. Between the three of us we only managed to drink half of the glass, so I switched places with the hubby to watch the kids in the van.

Remember the 1 out of 3 kid? Well by the time I got there she was into full on tears, so I let the twins out of their car seats with the instructions that they remain in the mini-van, which was fine with one and only momentarily fine with the other because she was still concerned as to where mommy and daddy were. I took that one into my lap and ran through the gambit of songs she knew from "I have two hands", "Twinkle twinkle", and "itsy bitsy spider". And even though she kept crying a touch, the songs kept her from all out bawling.

The parentals and hubby returned. The hubby, with a bottle of their Qi White, which is a mixture of white tea and their spirits which I like so much better than Qi Black (though I have to say that their Qi Black is vastly improved from the initial batch I had tried over a year ago).

With the kids happy about swimming and the adults happy about the absinthe tasting we headed to our parentals house to give grandma and grandpa some enjoyment. E, the eldest, remembers the house and the people inside, so she loved being there. The twins, went into their shy mode for a few minutes before finally relaxing and running around. They still weren't sure about mom and dad, but they did like the bowl of fresh grapes they provided and couldn't get enough of eating those.

Sunday, went to class. I woke up with my sore and achy legs. Just because I can do the movement doesn't mean I don't pay for it the next day. The hubby had been interested in learning to braise food for quite some time but we didn't have the proper pot that went from stove to oven. Fortunately we had numerous gift certificates from Williams-Sonoma that were still unused (I love that California law that doesn't allow gift certificates to expire.) We ended up getting a 5.5 quart Le Creuset in flaming red, which felt like was half off since the gift certificates. We followed that up with watching Iron Man which was an awesome movie (again using some gift certificates), dinner at Fuddrucker's, then grocery shopping at Ranch for the oxtails and veggies to christen the Le Creuset.

Whew! The hubby finished cooking it at around midnight so we haven't tried it out yet. We'll find out tonight.

Grant it I need a weekend from my weekend, I am glad we have such a fun filled life.

Happy Easter

Been tired this week (can't quite get myself on a proper sleep schedule this week.) but ended up in kali class this morning anyway even though I felt rather low energy and uncoordinated. Got nailed in the ankle by a kick that just rattled me with pain. Hmm...I have a low tolerance for pain this week as well. I didn't have much luck protecting myself from the hits as it seemed like when I did move I ran into the hits anyway. It was just one of those days. But the sun was nice and warm and I got to play with fan.

Went home and worked a few hours on the very neglected balcony. Our building was painted and after they finished painting, I just never really got back to the balcony over the winter. So I spent a few hours today stripping away all the dead leaves from the various spider plants, aloe plants and orchids. I got a large basin of water to soak the pots in. I always feel a bit bad when the water runs off the balcony and down below to the lower unit balconies, but that's the consequence of living with units above you, gravity always works against you. But I'm liking the balcony railing pot holders. I will probably buy at least one more. It's nice having the pots off the ground to make it easier to sweep. The balcony had become overrun with just too many jade plants and spider plants and all the pots took up the room to actually spend time on the balcony.

At the farmer's market yesterday there was a nursery vendor and I bought whatever they thought might work well in semi-shade. The nice part is that they grew all their plants in Oakland, so I was hoping they had a higher rate of survival than say the ones from Long's. I picked up nasturtiums, a dragon flower plant, and a strawberry plant. I got all of those repotted in various containers. Oddly enough while digging through the pots I kept finding peanuts buried in the soil. The hubby reminded me that before they trimmed the nearby trees the squirrels often made visits to the balcony and my potted pots were much closer to them than the ground, the squirrels must have thought they would make a good hideaway. But then after the tree limbs were cut, they lost access to their stashes.

I stripped the various orchids in my greenhouse shelf down to their still green nibs. I was really surprised at how hearty orchids are. One, I thought was dead, still had a clump of white roots with green tips, a very good sign. Before I used to feel really guilty about killing plants. Mostly because my mother has such a green thumb and I felt like the plants reflected my lack of a nurturing spirit. As delicate of a flower orchids produce, they are indeed one of the more forgiving plants to grow. And while I don't beat myself up as much about killing plants, since plants tell you there is a cycle for them as well and just because there are no leaves or flowers doesn't mean that they are all and out dead. There are roots that survive simply waiting for their chance to grow and bloom again. Somewhere in there, there is a lesson on forgiveness and patience.

I still have another half of the balcony to fix and weed out. I think I'll take out some of the jade plants and spider plants. I just have too many of them. And spider plants are just so ridiculously easy to grow, they're almost weedlike. But that will have to wait for another time.

After a shower to get rid of all the dust (I felt like Pig Pen as I went from the balcony to the bathroom), we brought our plastic eggs across the bay to the nieces. Their older sister seemed to know what the eggs were about even though they had never brought her to an easter egg hunt. We filled the plastic eggs with animal crackers, goldfish crackers, raisins, grapes, and stickers. The twins had these cute Hello Kitty furry baskets that they used for bonnets, because really that's what empty Easter Egg baskets are for, to be used as bonnets. But since the baskets were furry they looked more like the London Beefeaters, but cuter and funnier. We hid the eggs in the semi-open, and even then there were a couple we forgot we hid, like the green eggs in the green kiddie chair that blended nicely to its surroundings.

The kids had fun opening up all the eggs, eating or dumping the contents on the ground. They ate them up as if they were starving. They played with the eggs for hours and hours, past a grumpy meltdown of one of the twins needing to possess all the eggs. Fortunately, the girls are really good at sharing most everything else especially food. They don't seem to mind sharing food. Even the 6 year old got into the act by throwing the eggs, which for her was quite an achievement since it was a physical act that she specifically initiated. Her genetic issue makes it difficult for her to learn repeatable acts, so feeding herself even by hand, or consciously picking up a plastic egg and throwing it, is a big deal.

The twins are picking up vocabulary quite quickly even though I think they speak to us in their twin language sometimes. But Nicky especially, is quite articulate, since she likes to copy phrases some she knows what they mean, others she just likes repeating. But both twins are quite good at saying please and thank you, words that are repeated readily on the Barney videos they watch. Go figure, Barney teaches kids good manners. But amazingly, when we were leaving, Nicky in particular thanked us for bringing the eggs. A sign that she's quite aware of what people bring and give to them and appreciates it. Catie will eventually speak to you, but not as much. They have their meltdowns that a good nap will often fix if you can get them there, but overall, so far they're shaping up to be some good kids.

Afterwards, Tikbalang, the spirit that often whispers in the hubby's ear to turn in very misleading directions, made us miss our exit home and we ended up on Piedmont Ave to stop for ice cream or gelato. We managed to find a parking space across from the gelato shop, but when we got there at 9:10, they had already closed. The woman inside, waved us in and opened the locked door. She was pulling out the gelato trays and defrosting the freezer but still took our order for two small size gelato cups. She piled the gelato high so the small cups were really more like the large size. We gave her a $4 tip. She really didn't have to serve us, and she didn't have to give us all that extra gelato.

All in all, a very good day. Got to feel the warmth of the sun, repotted plants that were giving me a second chance, got lots of wonderful hugs and laughter from some really cute kids, and topped the day receiving some awfully nice service for a sweet treat.

Easter along with the season of spring is the season of rebirth. But to be reborn there is an aspect of forgiveness and appreciation for the life you lived before. But as the 3 year old taught me, simply learning to appreciate the life you are given today and that is a small way we are all reborn.

turning green: happy st. pat's day

Decided to turn my blog green for the day, since it is St. Patrick's Day and don't you get pinched if you're not wearing green? At least that was the game we used to play in school.

Plan to head to Beckett's Irish Pub after work for a bit of St. Patty's celebration for a trip to the real Ireland will have to wait a while. A cousin of mine is heading to Europe on Wednesday as his very first trip outside of the United States. He'll visit family in Madrid and Paris then do his own version of European bar hopping as he travels to various beer loving countries. I'm both excited and happy for him! Once you get the travel bug, it's really hard to stop.

In the meantime, South America awaits and possibly Yosemite next month. And I've been cruising cruise tour websites hoping to plan a big family trip in 2009, hopefully with a stop to Alexandria to see the pyramids, which would the leave Australia as the last settled continents I haven't been to yet. But hope to add that to the list with a friend in maybe 4-5 years.

Sunday I went and bought the plastic egg easter thingys. We're going to visit the nieces and conduct an in house Easter Egg Hunt. I remember when we were small, we went once to a neighborhood easter egg hunt, but for the most part went around our backyard and house.

The twins are way to young to be introduced to a sweet tooth, so instead I filled the eggs with Disney Princess stickers and Mardi Gras type beads. We'll wait til Saturday to fill the rest with their favorite relatively healthier treats: raisins, cheerios, and gold fish crackers. It should be fun!

What to do with the other hand?

In response to Eileen who asks, "what do you do with the other hand as you take down three baddies, Michelle? Sip tea? With pinkie delicately pointing to the sky?".

It's always that hand that you're not paying attention to, that makes everything happen. In this school we concern ourselves with the masculine and feminine sides. In this case my dominant hand the right one, is the masculine energy, where I hold the weapon, my power hand as it were. The left hand is the feminine hand, the ones that guides, directs, manipulates and counter balances the right hand.

But in this particular instance, the knife, what we consider a feminine weapon at least in the way we use it, is in my right hand. The Female Knife, what we call what I'm doing, isn't the Psycho-movie slashing or jabbing that you see in movies which is more masculine. The Female Knife is hidden. And in this case, it is hidden and protected by the left hand.

And here's the part that I think will be the most fascinating aspect...Tuhan described these hands once not has male and female, but as mother and son. The Son being the knife hand is being fed and protected by the Mother, the empty hand. If you watch closely, it's this open hand that makes contact and feeds the baddie to the knife hand. You see this when my hands are relatively close together when engaging the baddie. The Mother feeds her Son. While not engaged with the baddie, the Mother protects the Son by hiding him. So you see the knife disappear behind my left arm often. Then at times, the Mother allows the Son to venture off on his own but always nearby. You can see this when my knife hand shoots to the baddie's throat and my other hand is left behind clearing the baddie's punching hand. The Mother still tries to ensure the Son's safety even when she allows him to venture off. Afterall, can't have a cloistered Son, especially when baddies are around. The Knife must do what the Knife was meant to do and the open hand must encourage and allow that for it to be effective.

In any case, lately I've become quite taken by the fan as a weapon, which my sister had been practicing with for a while and had used them in her kali wedding demo. I didn't learn the fan explicitly. A couple of weeks ago Tuhan had me use it. (This is a typical expectation for black belts to be given a weapon then just use it and use it well, simply based on what you understand of weapons and what you've observed so far) I found myself quite into it and that especially when I got into really using it, I could feel the fan enter my body as I formed to the fan. I danced Singkil fan one year in PCN and have always loved the movement of the fans. There are still many things for me to learn about the fan, but it's so much fun to learn a weapon that feels rather natural.

Now, Fan, is a weapon where you can sip tea and hold out your pinky on, not only is it allowed, it is encouraged because it's what the fan wants you to do. You see, they often talked about how the Barong Tagalog was made so the Filipinos couldn't hide weapons, but how could they ban a Donya's fan? Pocket fans aren't as popular in the Philippines now that alot of people have electric fans and there is AC in malls, but I remember grandmothers would whack kids with those fans. Don't tell them a fan can't hurt you! There are weapon aspects to the structure of the fan, but I think what I like most about the fan is the weapon that it brings out of me: seduction.

Having said that, I'm still not sure what it means, but am intrigued to find out. Besides sticks are so unwieldy when traveling.

And wasn't bodyguard on that list of things Ninangs were entitled to along with computer tech support?

Mafia

With such a large family it's difficult to find games that we can all play. Mafia is one such game that must be played with lots of people. At least 9 makes it an interesting game, plus a narrator or host.

Developed in the Soviet Union in the Psych dept of a university (according to Wikipedia), it's a fascinating game to play and to watch as various forms of group dynamics and social psychological interaction take place. Essentially, 1/3 of the players are Mafia, cops are a third of the size of the Mafia, and if you're generous, one nurse. We had 14-15 people play, so 5 Mafia, 2 cops, and one nurse. My brother, the narrator, also created a storyline based in Oakland.

Game play goes like this. A number of cards are designated the various roles. Each person picks a card and doesn't reveal their card to anyone. They then put it face down on the ground in front of them. At Sundown, everyone puts their heads down/closes their eyes. The narrator then asks the Mafia to awaken to acknowledge who each other is. Then after they close their eyes, he asks the Cops to awaken, followed by the Nurse, so that the narrator knows who picked what. Only you know the people in your own group, except for the innocents who know nothing.

First Sunrise, everyone wakes up. Anyone can accuse anyone else of being Mafia. Once a 2nd for the accused is gathered, arguments ensue and the accused has final say for defending themselves. Arguments are rather silly sometimes, "it's just a feeling," "he looked suspicious," etc. Later on, people are watching voting patterns and reactions of players after certain votes, so those observations come into play. A vote is taken and majority rules. If a majority believe they are Mafia, then their card is revealed and they "die" or leave the game. If not, their card stays face down.

At the next Sundown, the Mafia are awakened and silently choose a victim to kill off. The Cops are then awakened and choose one person to see their card. The Nurse can then choose someone to "save" ala Survivor immunity idol.

At Sunrise, the one the Mafia chose is revealed, unless the Nurse saved them. Arguments then open to accuse another supposed Mafia person. At this point the cops may know who the Mafia is, but must play a careful game to not reveal themselves too much, as Cops make a nice target for the Mafia.

In our game play, the Innocents (non-Mafia players) win when they off all the Mafia. The Mafia win when the Mafia is equal to the number of Innocents playing the game.

Actually, both games I ended up being part of the Mafia. First time around it was pretty kick back as the general innocent populous went around accusing everyone who wasn't Mafia and we as the Mafia simply joined the voting crowd.

The second game was a bit trickier and I had to vote against two of my Mafia team members. I had to, as they say in the movies, "It's nothing personal, it's just business." You could tell that the younger players took it more personally then the older ones. But hey, the game is Mafia vs Innocents and you can't save everyone. As the Mafia, you have to make sure you don't get into a voting block. When I was being accused I used the argument that I voted off my fellow Mafia twice, why would I do that? Well, obviously that's not really a good argument, because I was still Mafia, but for the moment of emotional spontaneity it worked.

The hubby thought about playing, but decided to videotape the group dynamics instead. Plus if he was in the game, and I was Mafia and he wasn't, we would have offed him first thing. Do you really want people who can read you still in the game? Plus he would have been viewed as "too smart". Sorry, honey, you'd have to go. Nothing personal, just business, why don't you take a nice fishing trip on the lake. My cousin's husband was in the game as well, so we took him out quickly. We told him later, it was for the insurance money.

Unfortunately for the Innocents, even with only three Mafia left, too many Innocents went bye-bye either by us or by vote.

Playing Mafia is almost like a giant game of Clue. My brother first introduced us the game about 6 years ago. One time we had some 25 folks playing, people were losing their voices. It was crazy fun!

calamansi + grain alcohol

We had dinner last night at Ninong's place. Him and his wife are in the middle of refurbishing their house and it's looking great! They broke down a wall between the living room and dining room which opened up the space, took down the 70s paneling and popcorn ceiling and added in a lovely wooden floor, then added a splash of buttercup yellow on the walls and salsa queen red on the doors. His wife really has a wonderful decorative touch. They're actually hoping to sell sometime next year and move to a place that has more of a neighborhood feel to it.

They love to travel, so last night's dinner was a simple Italian flair which actually went quite well with the 2005 Twin Fin Cab we brought, which was a rather mellow cab.

But to top it off, they brought out a special bottle of their homemade calamansicello (ala limoncello. They have a calamansi tree in their backyard. Oh can we say yummy goodness? A large mason jar, everclear, and a whole pile of ripe calamansi rinds, steeped for 2 months. hmmm...yet another thing to do next time we get calamansi from the relatives.

It had that nice sweetness of liqueur and the rounder citrus flavor that characterizes calamansi. Definitely good in a mixer or with the cheesecake we had for dessert. It's the kind of stuff that could knock you off your feet in now time since it was so easily sipped. Certainly, would be a favorite amongst the drinking uncles. We might have to make some for a summer party.

As we sipped the calamansicello, talk wandered to the various new Filipino restaurants in area attempting to elevate the level of Filipino cuisine. We hope to make the rounds. But one place that was recommended was The Big Kitchen, in Union City.

repitez!

Seven more days til my birthday! A friend called asking what I was doing for my birthday and frankly I hadn't thought that far ahead.

After chatting with the hubby as to what is in store, going to spend it rather quietly this year. Hubby and I will head to dinner at Fleur de Lys. A bit of a raincheck dinner from our anniversary that will double-up as a birthday dinner.

I had been thinking of having a party in between the holidays, but decided to just lounge around, going against my Capricorn nature of almost overscheduling. Not like we're lacking for parties. Maybe we'll make it into a summer swim party instead.

We shopped at Whole Foods yesterday for ingredients for paella that the hubby wants to cook for Noche Buena at his sister's. We'll try cooking it on Friday night so we're not rushing. Though we still need squid ink for the black squid rice ala Spain. Saturday we have dinner with friends at their house. Sunday, I'll wrap gifts. Christmas will be at mom's. Not sure what I'm cooking for that yet.

We ordered our holiday cards late, but that's why they're holiday cards! Well, more like New Year's cards now.

This is one of the first years where Christmas just came out of nowhere. Or at least that's what it feels like. I'm looking forward to the break since the new year I'll be off and running.

Somewhere in there will be a 1 year old party and then New Year's at the SIL's when the BIL comes o town. Fun times ahead!

armed forces

I spent the weekend in San Diego. My cousin was being commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant in the US Air Force. It was a joint forces celebration, plus a retirement party for one of their ROTC commanders, so there were 2nd Lt from the Army and Marines, as well as a group of Navy Ensigns.

Each group comes out and they are pinned or striped by someone near and dear to them, like their parents, or spouses or siblings. Then they get their first salute which is given to them again, by someone significant to them. My cousin got to be saluted by his dad, a retired enlisted navy man, after which my cousin hands him a silver dollar. As they said, "the first salute they pay for, all the others must to earned."

In addition, as the top of his commissioned class, there were two of them in the Air Force, my cousin also received a sword, symbolizing the leadership and responsibility given to him. It was a nice sword, excellent weight with his name engraved on it, unsharpened. When they handed them out, they accidentally gave him the Army sword, which was a bit of a joke with as he went down the line to shake the hands of the commanders. The Air Force sword had a globe at the top of the sword.

Some of them already had several children, others were just finishing college. All in all they were all relatively young in comparison to the general population of Gen Yers (are we up to Z yet?) still looking for themselves at 30. But then again, a career in the military is done by 40 unless you decide to play the politics to continue to higher echelons of leadership.

The commander that was retiring had been a Tomcat pilot during the first Gulf War. He looked like he was in his 50s but was more likely in his 40s. Even his wife was awarded a certificate of appreciation for all of her support in his career.

I can see why there's the saying that women like a man in uniform. The uniform symbolizes alot of things: discipline, focus, ambition. And if they don't have that, well the military structure will make them have those things. Plus, they're men who know how to follow orders. I am often amazed at their wives. Like my other cousin who is stationed in Iraq, his wife is taking care of their 3 daughters essentially by herself. They above all, endure a great deal to support their husband's careers.

After receiving their stripes the young men and women will be sent off to various bases for even more training. My cousin the engineer will be stationed at a base to do research and development for the air force. Unlike his father's life at sea, his will mostly be on the bases. The Air Force has one pilot and then everyone else is support. The Marines there, well they will most likely see combat or sent to a volatile area of the world, because well they're Marines.

Of the Armed Forces, the Air Force is considered the "nerds" of the bunch, because the Air Force recruits for brains. When you take the recruiting exam, the Air Force has the highest scoring requirement, then the Navy, then Army, then Marines.

Whether or not I agree on whether our forces should be where they are or not, I was honored and proud of the men and women there. They are not just in Iraq, they are in other parts of the world. Whether or not the developed world likes our president or not, the US has become the armed forces for the world. After traveling over the years to various places abroad, that fact is all too clear. The European nations are too small in population to provide that level of security force, but the US can and does. This is the role the US has chosen, this is the role the world has given our nation. And when you give a nation that kind of role, then military actions in Iraq are inevitable. It was the argument of, "well we protect the rest of the world, we should also protect ourselves." And the rest of the world whether they like it or not, cannot stop the US from doing so. They gripe, but they don't take major action to really, truly stop it. There are no embargoes against the US, no economic sanctions that cause our economy to crawl. The presence of the US military in a given area anywhere in the world is both a benefit and a problem to the area it resides.

People join the Armed Forces for many many reasons. Some do believe they are fighting to protect civil liberties at home. Some want to serve their country. Others are looking for adventure and opportunities they couldn't give themselves back home. Some are looking for the discipline and structure the military can give them, that isn't really found in civilian life.

Ironically, on the shuttle ride to the parking lot, there was a family on the shuttle. The son, not yet 18 was going to enlist as soon as he turned of age. His mother, fearful that he would be deployed to Iraq, was trying to argue with him. She asked him if he really knew what he was fighting for. His reply was that when someone is shooting at you, you don't think about politics. Politics doesn't matter. And in one sense, he is correct, but it is politics that puts him in front of the bullet in the first place. But I could hear it in the boy's voice, the desire for the guts and glory, how he wanted to show he was a man in control of his life, a way to prove to his parents he could be a hero, that he would be able to protect himself and his country. Whether or not the military is an option, 18 is the age for young men to want to seek their fortune and fame. If he dies, there will be memorials for him, whole holidays in which his name will be read. You could tell the boy's mind was made up. His whole life we have been fighting in the middle east.

Just because a person chooses the military life doesn't mean they necessarily agree with the politics that brought them there, but they have often told me, that they made the commitment to serve their country, serve their fellow soldiers, and they must honor that commitment. The politics are sketchy at the top, but down below, the men and women who serve, do so willingly and faithfully because they pledged they would.

I am proud of my family members who have served in the armed forces and the ones who are actively serving and their families who sacrificed to allow them to do so. Regardless of the intent of the politics, they fight for us. And for that, I thank them. And it's us, the ones who remain here, who must find a way to change how they are fighting for us.

rip roarin' good time

I always love reading at Eastwind Berkeley and Harvey, the owner, is always such a welcoming host. You can read more detailed happenings of the event from the woman of the hour.

At a party the day after, I recalled that Al's scroll poem was much like his poetry: a bold swatch of blank ink along a sheet of fine paper that goes on and one, meandering and returning. It's quite hypnotic.

And the sound of ripped paper is not what you expect coming out of a book store, and from the sound of the paper, it too was mighty fine, but that's the sound that permeated as Eileen made her way through the crowd tearing sheets from "The Light Sang as it Left Your Eyes". She had us imagine her walk out the door continuing to tear pages handing them to strangers, and one can only imagine then where the poetry would have taken her, and ponder too if she would ever return.

Tony Robles really is cultivating a Tony Robles style to his poetry with certain wit and charm from the cholesterol inducing ode to a short order cook to personal narrative on Muhammed Ali and his Uncle Ted.

Prau is an even lovelier creature in person. Having spent hours staring at it on the pixelated computer screen, there was a certain warmth to holding it. I kept staring at how nicely the blue came out for Michael Fink's design. And even lovelier still to hear Jean read from it.

I think this was my first reading in about 5 or 6 months. I posted it up on facebook. My co-workers found out about this life I have outside of work. And there in the cozy bookstore, those halves of my life met. It's a strange feeling, like when you introduce your beau to your parents. A slight awkwardness at first until someone dares break the silence and hopefully in a joyful way. Tis the season fortunately and it was joyful. whew! And I did get the Sound of Music song stuck in one person's head with my rewrite of the lyrics. sorry!

One of my coworkers bulked up on his winter holiday reading by buying a copy of all of our books. Thank you! Goes to show that everyone can have a section of Filipino poetry in their book collection and you need not be Filipino nor a poet to do so.

Wonderful too to see Cal and Leny come down from yonder. Always a long and arduous drive but then again having 5 Pinoy poets read at the same time gives a person a lot of bang for their gas mileage! Can I calculate that into poetry economics?

Afterwards we had dinner trading pictures of pets, grandkids, nieces and any other cute adorable pictures we each carried around. El restaurant, El Platano, es muy delicioso. Try the albondigas with the casamientos (fried black beans and rice, that reminds you of totong at the bottom of the rice pot). A yummy dinner to cap a yummy afternoon!

on the menu

We had more of a low key Thanksgiving, heading over to my SIL in South City.

Wednesday evening we stopped by a distant cousin who bakes pies to pick up two cheesecakes (blueberry and plain), and a veggie pie. She has an adorable 10 month old girl who is very sociable and makes funny faces. We end up running into my uncle and his family who are also picking up pies. My distant cousin had been baking for an entire week. She already broke her first oven.

Afterwards, since we were in the area, we headed to Shalimar, one of the best Indian/Pakistani restaurants in the area. And no doubt, when we got there at 9:30p (they close at 10:30p) the line was 10 deep and there were no tables available. The place is packed with South Asians and one or two other Asians like ourselves. We decided to take the food to go. The hubby hates crowds and he hates standing in line for food, but he's willing to stand in line for this food. The complexity of flavors and spices is amazing. We ordered goat, chicken tikka masala, lamb kabab, and some naan. We should have also ordered raita since it's also rather spicy. The hubby was sweating after a few bites.

That evening, my brother and cousin stopped by after their long drive from LA. Can you say 4 hours just to get out of the LA basin? It was late so my cousin stayed over. He was surprising his family and we'd drop him off the next day.

In the morning the hubby started roasting the duck and chicken he'd been brining for 3 days. Then after looking at all the drippings, we decided to make gravy with the giblets. Whew!

The afternoon we spent at the SIL playing with the nieces. Along with the duck and chicken, we had roasted potatoes, pancit and chicharon bulaklak. OK not the typical Thanksgiving meal, but certainly you can argue that chicharon bulaklak is only for for special holidays. One of those foods you know was way too bad for you the second it hits your tongue, but it's oh so good you have to swallow.

While the adults took an afternoon nap and the eldest niece went for a walk, the twins went quietly "hippie" on us (as my cousin puts it) by stripping down to nothing and romping around the house. It's their latest "thing" their mom tells us. Well, in the end it made it a quicker trip to giving them a bath in the evening. So far they don't do it anywhere else. We stayed long enough to put all the kids to sleep and play a few rounds of Smooth Moves on the Wii.

Friday we slept in. Made some duck noodle soup from the leftover duck. In the evening we went to the "So You Think You Can Dance?" tour in Oakland. It was a relatively small crowd, so parking was easy. Along with the top 10 they brought along 4 of the other top favorites: Shawna, Hok, Jesus, and Anya. Danny is just simply mesmerizing and Pasha is quite hot, especially when he did his cape solo. The girls screamed for Neil and he played to them by showing off his body. We finally got to see a hip hop routine by the three hip hop dancers: Hok, Sara, and Dominic. Dominic was from Sacramento so he was enjoying performing in front of his home crowd and had several comedic interludes as part of hosting the show. Alot of people in the crowd wondered where do people go after performing a tour like this. It's not like American Idol. And since it's produced by the same people, the down times were filled with broadcasts of the more recent idols: Underwood, Daughtry, Fantasia, and a twangy chick I don't even remember.

Saturday we actually went out and did some shopping over at REI for warmer workout clothes and Walgreens for household items. Although we browsed through the ads, we didn't join the shopping madness. Plus, the stuff really wasn't that much of a sale. I've seen bigger discounts in the middle of spring when there really isn't anyone shopping.

I tried my hand at baking biscuits to go with the leftover giblet gravy. And also made arroz caldo out of the leftover chicken. Needs more ginger and we need more chopped garlic.

This morning decided to continue to laze about. I guess I'll get around to doing some more chores. It's almost December, the year goes by quickly. Next weekend will be filled with a couple of wine posts with a couple of winetasting parties next weekend. Tis the season to eat, drink and be merry.

i had plans

I had plans today to do laundry, sort clothes, bake apple pie and learn to make potato gnocchi, but the morning is cold and the comforter is warm and I've barely budged.

The hubby had to go to work today and I watched him do sit-ups (an odd thing for him to do.) But sometimes there's no need to question things.

We babysat the nieces on Friday evening while the parents had a date night. One bawled at the idea of the parents leaving, the other casually said goodbye and kept playing. When I was a kid, I was the bawler afraid of my parents disappearing into the dark night.

We let the twins stay up late to finish watching TV. Apparently they had expected to watch Barney, a routine we were not informed about. We had deprived them of Barney (thankfully for me). They actually copy the movements from the sign time dvd. And they ask for more though I'm not sure more of what?

Saturday we helped a friend close his recently deceased father's store. It was a 99 cent store full of all sorts of random items. Even we bought off some of the items: crayons and pens to stock the elementary school in the province and votive candles for the church there. We personally stocked up on wrapping paper, gift bags and greeting cards. The store was his father's life, a life his sons must now disassemble and sell off.

60 Minutes did a story on the Millenial generation, those who came of age after 2000. How this generation jumps jobs every year perhaps finding their "calling". Adulthood apparently doesn't start until 26/27 and the stigma of living at home after college is barely a scar. They say that some of them are truly hard working and talented and resourceful while the other half is incorrigible with no sense of others because it's about what everyone can do for me.

My cousin dislikes illegal immigrants and thinks they should stand in line just like everyone else. Like many immigrants his view of America is contrasted by the Philippines and its lawlessness. America is a place of rules and of order. Illegals in his mind are going against the American grain. And yet, when I meet illegals, I find them to have a sense of America as the land of opportunity moreso than any other group. They know this is borrowed time and that they must leverage this moment for all that it's worth and yet not do anything to call attention to themselves. They are here for their families, for people they may never return home to see. I admire them for their bravery, it's not that easy of a life when you know it could be gone tomorrow.

I chatted with a cousin looking for work in Dubai. Her job as a sales associate barely pays for a bed to sleep in. She wants to come here or maybe Canada. But for now, must wait. Her boss is Canadian. She wants to help her parents and siblings. She is trying to be patient and have faith in God and God's plan for her. She wants to go back to the Philippines to perhaps score a chance to go to another country.

My parents will soon be getting dsl and off the dial up and even wireless. It's funny us kids can't live without high speed now. Complete junkies to the download of information. Though my cousin asked if I could video chat, but I could not. Maybe I'll set up my parents to video chat so they can learn to skype.

And I'm still in bed, watching the minutes go by and the plans I had for today as my muscles laze into the warmth of the blankets. Hell, I'm typing lying down. Too bad I can't adjust the screen to read sideways. Sometimes things just have to wait, sometimes we just have to wait.

Beyond

My cousin who is in college wants to try out for the Pilipino Cultural Night Singkil Princess part. She was a fan woman last year and knows that to have what it takes to be princess, she was going to need help. She asked us if we knew anyone. Especially since the hubby had spent extensive years photographing numerous dance troupes, he knew quite a few people, so he emailed a friend from college we hadn't seen in years. Ten to be exact, since her oldest was now ten.

Sure enough, she emails right back saying that her cousin who dances with Kayamanan in LA was in town and they'd be happy enough to help my cousin with an audition routine.

It turned out to be a great day! Our friend and her cousin discussed the details of the dance, the body position, the footwork, the pose. And even though the angles seem like they would strain the body, they are indeed rather balanced.

Singkil, a Maranao dance, is, like many of the folk dances, a courtship dance, a series of flirtatious moves. The twirling of the fans to create illusions of the female form and to play tricks by hiding and uncovering. Though I have seen the dance performed with more overtly sexual outfits (a Western interpretation), when the movements are done just right, there is no need to exaggerate or excessively reveal too much. As J said, that's how she got her husband.

Our friend, J, hadn't danced in years and though she said she had forgotten, it was amazing how easily her body fit itself into the proper movement. Even without the spectacle of costume and lights, she was mesmerizing. I was happy to see our friend J reconnect to something that had been a large part of her life.

During the afternoon, we discussed the various Singkil performers we had seen over the years and what made those dances special. Certainly J's performance her freshman year at Cal was incredible. She knew how to hit the curves and the angles with her body and attitude. Another woman had incredibly flexible wrists, but what "sold" the dance with her eyes. I knew another woman who had the most captivating fingers.

But really the conversation we were really having were the aspects of a woman's beauty. Considering this dance comes from a predominantly Muslim region, that beauty is not overt or exposed, but rather revealed and enticed. The wave of the arms that lap you forward, the figure eight flow of the fans repeated over and over an unconscious signal of the curves of the body, the slight lean of the body that exudes confidence and self-awareness.

One of the tips that J's cousin gave mine was "you don't want to be bukaka to the audience" or you don't want to pick the stance that from the audience's view your legs are spread open. The dance is not only a courtship with the prince but to the audience as well. Put yourself out there, but don't give too much. Not everyone gets to see everything. To pull them in, you give enough to make them want to come to see the rest.

The attitude of the dance is probably the most difficult to get. It's not just turning up your nose or leaning back. It's about keeping your head high, and not standing at attention, but leaning back with ease. You are the princess, you are not the one to serve you are the one to lead. It's not what the fans do, the fans simply amplify what is already there, what is already within you. It's not so much about snootiness as it is about confidence and content. The prince is not getting just any girl, he's getting one of substance, he's getting a woman. She is not trying to be anyone, she already is.

It's a leap, to go beyond thought. To simply be. And it's in this "being" where the true beauty really is.

strip down

My SIL tells me that the two latest things the twins like to do are play ring-around-the-rosy ala the kids on the Barney DVDs. Of course the next question is what happens when they spin out of balance and go crashing into things. But that's why they have those gel toy ice packs.

The 2nd thing they like to do the second they get home is just strip down to nothing and go running around the house. To which my mother replies, oh, you should take a picture of that! You know to include in various debut and/or wedding photo montages in the future.

It reminds me of Leny's grandson who likes to frolic in the bare as well.

But the twins have just turned 2 so there's no talking to or discussions about why we shouldn't be naked. And I think in terms of toddlers, it's different for girls than boys, or that we react differently. Girls fall into that cherubim image in paintings. On summer days there are like a dozen naked toddlers splashing in a fountain at the park, though the parents try to keep their diapers on at least. I'm not sure about letting our kids ever to do that, and that's more about me living in Oakland and my experiences at public parks.

There are lots of reasons not to go around completely nude in public like protection from the elements. But certainly brings up the point that the offensiveness of nudity is one that is learned based on the values of the given society. And the need to cover up is our reaction to their reaction and in part the need for the other's approval.

In the Philippines, most of he toddlers are half dressed simply from lack of available clothing, but even then there isn't this shameful reaction (that comes much later in their lives in other ways).

I'm not sure what we'll say to them when they're three, but by then they'll probably be into playing dress up, so dressing down might not be much of an issue.

hyphy wifey

One of my cousins now in college IMs me, "Ate, did you see (younger cousin's) myspace? I'm concerned. I used to watch Barney with her!"

Oh there was alot of growing up this weekend during my sister's wonderful wedding. Not so much growing up as it was for the family to realize that all these "little kids" are neither little nor kids anymore.

The college cousin continues to type her concerns of a slightly older guy being interested in her and how the younger cousin's older sister didn't want to say anything to her because she wanted her sister to be able to come to her and not see her as an extra parent.

So I check her myspace page and check out the comments she leaves for a 17 year old boy. OK. I still wasn't sure if there was anything super serious or that's just the way kids her age talk. I didn't understand 80% of the phrases, like "hyphy wifey".

After the wedding most of the mom's side cousin were hanging out in a side courtyard to the tea bar where there was a mini-reception. The younger cousin is sitting there, hanging out with the younger set, the other two not quite in middle school yet. I haven't worried too much about her. Her grades are good, she's never acted in the family as if she was in a hurry to grow up, and she seems more interested in cars than in guys.

So I approach her and say out loud, "so (younger cousin), what's a hyphy wifey?" I ask in all sincerity, because I had no idea what that meant. She grins shyly, looks away to her phone she was texting on. The other cousins had no idea why I was asking, though I'm sure they might have thrown a fit if they knew, but for now, this wasn't a completely embarrassing question.

"Well, you know what a wifey is?" OK yeah, I think so. "And you know what hyphy is?" OK yeah. "Well, it's those two together."

Um, well, I still didn't get it and even after a search in urban dictionary, I'm still not sure as wifey for me was a bit more serious, but there were quite a few definition of wifey as just a really close girl friend. In any case, she knows I'm reading her myspace and I'm clicking on her friends to see who they are, but I'm not giving her a hard time about something that might not be anything. And that was enough.

At the reception, like the hubby said, a there's a group of girls well into college and just about to graduate, ie they're old now. Old enough to drink at least. And so a couple of them got quite wasted at the wedding, supplied by various charitable brothers and uncles who were giving them drinks.

I chatted with one of the brothers about them getting sloshed and he's like, "can you talk to them about pacing themselves?" And I replied, "you know they just have to figure that out for themselves. They're old now, they can make decisions for themselves."

But their drinking irked a few of their older siblings and moms. One of the siblings just kept lamenting the "young generation". Eh, at least they're where we can watch them. Rather here than out there. Plus, the bride didn't care and they weren't throwing up in the hall or on anyone and they weren't much more drunk than some of the bride's friends, so I really didn't see the issue there.

Besides, if there are any lessons to be lectured, they're so much better done the next morning when their heads are pounding. lol!

One of them, though was quite new to drinking. She "pretended" to be getting her shoes under the table. I lift her up and walk her out the room hoping to get her to the bathroom. Really, girl, let's talk about being drunk with some sense of class. But she doesn't make it that far and runs out to the courtyard hoping to hold it in. Oh, she broke every rule of drunken vomiting! I felt bad for her bf who she was introducing to the family for the first time. He seemed embarrassed, but that will be something she has to deal with when she gets sober. I walk over to him, I didn't get a chance to chat with him. I ask how long they've been together. Five years? I shake his hand, and say, "Five years? That's (pointing to the courtyard where she was chucking into her shoes) yours. We love you already. Tell her WE (all the cousins, especially the older ones) are going to make fun of her for a very long time."

I found it all very funny.

There is always that moment with your younger siblings and cousins that you watched grow up and you think of them as that cute little kid in all their innocence, then you see them now and think wow, it's been a while. Perhaps we hold on to those nostalgic images because we want to still be young, or that we think their lives were simple, and our lives were simple. But at some point, we have to open our own eyes and realize that that is not who they are now and they haven't been that little kid in years. And at some point, you just have to come into the reality that "they're old!" they make their own decisions, they do their own thing, and really you can't control that, like you could really control it before. So, I just sit back and watch and every once in a while chit-chat to see what they're up to. They're big enough to ask for someone else's opinion, but I'm not their mama and even their own mama can't say much.

mixed feelings, mixed tongues

This is the original set of Manila Times articles that discuss the dying of Philippine languages, first on the chopping block Kapampangan and my family's tongue, Pangasinan.

In many ways it was already happening as people moved from the province to Manila, their children's children eventually became Tagalog. Parents are willing to kill their own language if it means better opportunities for their children, a way of shutting the door of the past behind them.

It was easy enough to see language die as the American generation born to immigrant generation. We made a few attempts to learn Pangasinan when we were at home, but it was difficult to hold the tide against the teacher's at school that demanded English at home and well, television. And while a few of us managed to get away with at least understanding the language, some of the younger cousins with help and encouragement actually came out multi-lingual.

Even then, after learning Tagalog in college, I began to understand how even my parent's learning of Tagalog was almost obsolete as the language was constantly infiltrated with slang and other variations of words. But still, the language was intact. Hell, the language I learned in school was so academic it wasn't really understood in regular conversation.

Yet in my process of learning Tagalog, I was often assaulted with guilt from native speakers saying that my parents didn't raise me well, or that I wasn't truly Filipino enough without the language. What I didn't realize then was that there was already the notion that these languages were dying, even Tagalog to an extent.

I've also watched how inlaws fall into the problematic track of understanding Pangasinan translations of Tagalog, which come out in a ruder tone than intentioned as although they speak Tagalog, they do not quite understand the subtleties of the language.

I would like our children to know different languages in part so their minds gain a greater fluidity. I was inspired by some kids of a friend of mine that spoke 7 different languages and didn't have a problem speaking one language to one person and another language to another.

After learning 5 different languages so far I've come to understand how each language facilitates different thought processes. The Philippine languages with their extensive use of passive tense and emphasis on the object rather than the emphasis on the actor in Latin languages. Even the subtle differences between the Romance languages and their rhythms reflect the different natures of people.

Yet, in these last hundred years the Philippines has constantly fought for a national identity and language. Even making attempts to create a national language like in Indonesia. But in 40 or so years, nature may take it's own course to a unified language.

And maybe in a future played out in the movie, Serenity, we will all be speaking Chinese, and even then I'm not even sure which version of Chinese they were speaking.

One of the opinion articles about dying languages already talks about how someone from Pampanga or Pangasinan that doesn't speak that language is not really Pampango or Pangasinan. Pangasinan, with its central location, has always been on the border of several other languages. And really only the central part of the province retained the Pangasinan language as Ilokano came in from the north, Tagalog from the southeast, Kapampangan from the west.

My mother sometimes laments the emergence of various Tagalog traditions coming with the new settlers.

Ironically, it seems that Filipinos have never really been so tied to language as part of their identity, at least until we come abroad. In general, the populous will speak whatever they need to get them by. Except maybe for the Tagalogs who it seems by nature are steadfast traditionalists.

But the things tied to language as already fading fast. The great Ilokano epics, the lullabyes, the folk songs, these too fade with the language.

The question about culture and tradition has always been asked of each person. What is necessary for the next generation? What traditions still have a purpose and meaning today? Whether these languages die or not is the choice of the current speakers who each choose whether it's important enough for their children to know what they know and whether they can convince their children its important that they know.

happens there, stays there

Off to Las Vegas tonight for a family bachelorette party for my sister. Should be fun! Alas, no bloggedy blogging about it. Because, well, you know.

Her fiance is having his bachelor party this weekend too, a volleyball bbq I think. Or maybe that's the ploy.

growing the tree

The hubby is on a quest to fill out his family tree. He tried doing this 5 years ago, but for whatever reason is back on the trail. He even found a long lost grand-aunt, a 2nd cousin to his grandfather this weekend.

Weekend was pretty low key. His brother was up here for some family gatherings including the niece's birthday party. We brought the Wii over and competed in golf and tennis matches while the girls climbed and crawled around us. The twins at least are still under swinging level.

Watching the twins play is rather funny. One adores the other, while the other seems to have a need for privacy. N really enjoys playing with her sister and often copies the things she does, even copies her crouched tantrum position as if it were a new game. And while you can ask N to throw the ball to C, which she does, C flatly refuses to throw the ball to N, though she will toss it to you. Sometimes, they play well together. But the nicety is a short lived cease fire before one of them gets grumpy or frustrated. Then you have to watch for the biting. Once we came over and N had a nice red outlined circle on her arm.

C tries to hide underneath the table or high chairs or coffee table in her own little private nook. She cries at the word "share". (They both cry at "no".) N is the more rambunctious of the two and sometimes just kind of runs or kicks or hits her sister inadvertantly, which makes C cry, then when you tell N to be careful, she cries. oh boy.

They cry differently. C cries in that "I'm dying" kind of wail regardless of the infraction. N has a lower tone longer drawn out whining lament cry.

C was successfully fed a strawberry without any adverse reaction! whoo-hoo! They both love apricots, actually, they both love food. And even though the apricots were tart, they still kept eating them. Must be that Ilokano in them.

Their older sister E is now 6 and has lost her two front teeth. We do know that she understand what we're saying despite not being able to give a reply, though the hubby seems to have these conversations with her, like the following:

Hubby: Happy Birthday E!
E: (runs around, then stops at the mirror) thank you!
Hubby: oh, so you can talk. Does your mommy know you can talk?
E: (runs around, then stops at the mirror) no.
Hubby: oh ok, so you're just playing with mommy.
E: yes

Her mom does speak with her teacher and does know that there are things and behaviors she does at school that she doesn't do at home and vice versa. Like when she doesn't like someone, she'll say, "Ayaw," I don't like. Fortunately her teacher is Filipino and understands what she's saying even though the adult she doesn't like doesn't understand her.

Rhett's brother just looks at the kids and gets tired and he wonders how they do it. From what I can tell, from my parents, and others I've watched, well, you suck it up and just do it. It's not like they can get up one morning and say, "I'm tired of taking care of my kids, so I won't."

When we used to babysit them overnight, it was quite exhausting. But I have to admit that when I'm down, I do go back through the clips of videos I've taken of them, and they always make me smile. Good thing they're so gosh darn cute!

pcn

UC Davis PCN was well PCN, 3.5 hrs long with varying levels of dance skill. Fortunately our cousin was dancing 4 dances which meant we couldn't ditch at intermission. ha!

It was UCD's 20th annual PCN and many of the students commented about how they were only tots when the first one started. So, I began to wonder what function does PCN serve? 20 years ago and even say 12 years ago, information about the Philippines and the current events of the country were fairly inaccessible: no satellite tv, no Tagalog in some of the colleges, a handful of books by Filipino authors available, no brain drain retirees criss crossing the ocean every 6 months. So is PCN Filipino culture? And if so, what about Filipino culture does it evoke?

The dances themselves are based on Bayanihan's categorical standard of the different dance suites. The costumes, particularly, in Barrio suite are meant to evoke an idyllic countryside of farmland, but it's not like people in the barrio wear bright flourescent flora patterned outfits all the time.

PCN is really more a reflection of culture from the eyes of Fil-Am college students trying to sort out the varying degrees of what makes up "community" and "culture". Barrio when the plot deals with the nostalgia of an elderly character's youth. Spanish for courtship. Modern and Chip-Chop (cha-cha hip-hop: the suite for everyone else who wasn't dancing Modern) to present the current state of affairs. Mountain and Muslim suites to evoke the sense of rebellion and activism. Those two suites in particular are used for the students to have very masculine warrior (ie strong) roles.

Their story narrative has not changed, though their arcs were decently complex even though it took us more than half way to figure out how they all tied together. The grandfather figure was still a "manong" who picked asparagus in 1966 in Stockton, though they didn't address the waning presence of Filipinos in the fields at that time. "Manong" from what I could tell was a Baby Boomer generation as opposed to the Manongs of 1920s and 1930s.

Divided families, regrets, pressure on the children to be "somebody" though the path to riches now includes real estate agent along with medical doctor as opposed to the child's desire to be an artist. Frankly, in their story the kid wasn't good at dancing even though it was his "passion" and I was about to scream, "you should listen to your father!" And of course, a balance of comedy and drama, and working really hard to bring it all together to one happy/funny ending or reconciliation. The family, in the end, always coming back together no matter what.

And so I wondered when the narrative would change. These kids aren't necessarily from immigrant families and they're not necessarily from immigrant families that were poor, as evident of one of the characters being the niece of GMA. There was a scene of Wowowee used more for dramatic catharsis for the middle aged couple to profess their love. And a bit of an ironic twist of putting traditional dance and a plea to help the invalid squatters on Wowowee, which did feel like a Sally Struthers commercial, and from the mindset of a Filipino in the Philippines, is probably something that would never happen as in one sense the plea for donations to the squatters robbed the people of their dignity.

So the script reflected the conflict not just of generation or of culture, but really of this college aged Fil-Am crowd trying to reconcile their American interpretations of the present state of Filipino society. Why are there so many poor in the Philippines? Why is Wowowee so popular? And does it really make significant change to uplifting people's lives?

The quality of the dances varied. I know they're students and I know that after you've seen really good dance, it's hard to watch ok dance. But in one sense, the awkardness in dancing the traditional dances for many of the dancers as opposed to an ease and freedom when they danced Chip-Chop and Modern reflects their awkardness in figuring out how this past is brought into the present. And while my parents generation learned folk dances to perform at festivals, today's kids in the Philippines learn the latest routine from shows like Wowowee.

And I wonder that if in 10 more years, if Philippine ethnic and traditional dance will be found mostly outside the Philippines and that if PCN will be the living archive of these dances.

PCN does serve a function on the campuses as a way for socialization and exploration. Some treat the learning of the dances quite seriously, while others are more non-chalant about how precise they need to be, just the fact that they're in PCN is good enough to have cultural significance to them.

Overall for a PCN UC Davis' PCN was pretty decent and the scripts comedic lines really kept it afloat. The Tinikling "stick tricks" were impressive. But 12 years after participating in PCN myself, I find PCN feeling more like a school recital than a showcase of culture. I still think PCN is important, but I think the focus of importance has moved from the audience to the students themselves who still use it as a vehicle to try to bring disparate understandings/interpretations of what they believe their "culture" to be as well as voice their opinions to their parents about how they would like to lead their lives in a subtle way.