It is believed that in 500 years, people of this planet will forget about wars, calamities and even its world leaders but will never fail to disregard the time when a man first stepped on the moon. Actually, people have difficulty recalling the names of the men who stepped on the moon but definitely not Neil Armstrong, the first man who did it. I’m pretty sure planet Earth until it blows itself into smithereens will forever remember him.
I do not have any relation or association with Neil Armstrong except for my name. He is my tukayo (a friendly Filipino way of calling a person having the same first name as one’s self). Nengkoy and Joe named me after this iconic hero. Being the root and basis of my appellation I have always felt a close connection with this man. His name is forever on my birth certificate, my signature and of course will be on my gravestone hopefully in a very distant future.
That is why I am saddened to know that my tukayo has passed away. It felt like the beautiful birthmark on my skin that I have been so proud of has suddenly disappeared. I feel like I lost the chieftain of the tribe whom I belong.
He may now be gone but the gigantic scientific achievement he has contributed represents one of the peaks of humanity’s progress. He is definitely one great ambassador of the human species. And I’m damn proud that I was named after him!
According to my dubious computation based on the mathematical formula of space-time distortion combined with quantum mechanics, the total number of posts in this blog since the time it started is actually equivalent to a very short period of time as compared to an average yet more popular blog.
Putting it in simple words, the number of posts in this blog is too few. Reason? The only time I post a piece of writing is when my leisure time has a leisure time.
Still and all, I am proud that this blog managed to reach considerable years of existence. Today, June 20, 2012 Nengkoy (blog) is six years old!
me & nengkoy with 6 reindeers… each reindeer represents a year of this blog
Let me thank all those who looks forward in reading a post in this blog; those who clicked the “like” button at the end of each post; those who took time in writing a “comment” at the comments section; and, those who cared to follow this blog. You just don’t know how delighted I am every time “interactive” occurrences happen in this piece of blog.
Thanks and happy reading!
Anim na taong kalokohan, ka-engotan at kaartehan… Salamat! : )
While the whole world is still trying to figure out how to swallow the bitter reality that Manny Pacquiao lose a fight yesterday to Timothy Bradley, have you ever seen your dad, brother or best friend how they looked like while watching the controversial fight?
Every time there is a key boxing event, I am always reminded of my late father. In my childhood days during these major events no one in the household could watch anything on TV. Switching the channel would be like chasing bad luck and adversity. Thus you would have to settle with other forms of entertainment. But for me my dad is my source of entertainment during these TV boxing episodes.
He is not the commonly overt cheerer type. He is neither a clapper nor a shouter. When he watches a fight, he would slightly sway his body from left to right front and back as if he would parry, dodge or deflect an opponent’s punch. These movements are so faint and subtle you wouldn’t notice it unless you would stare, watch and observe.
That is why every time my father would watch a boxing match I would cunningly observe him. When his posture and movements would go too obvious, I would laugh out loud. He would then gently ask me why I am laughing and I would just say nothing and pretend as if I am also watching the match aired on TV. When he would shift his center of attention back to the fight on TV I would again watch him and laugh out loud once more when his swaying movements would yet again gone too apparent.
Bradley, Pacquiao, Maywheather, Donaire and other pound for pound kings may popularly break through the history of boxing and will eventually retire but Tatay Joe’s eccentric yet barely obvious moves will always remain as the most entertaining to watch during a boxing match. I of course will forever cherish those treasured moments.
So the next time your dad, husband or brother would watch a boxing match on TV try watching them instead and be entertained!
I don’t want to expound but let me describe Nengkoy as a mother in one sentence.
Nengkoy is the type of mother who would say she hates pizza if there are three people and only two mouthwatering palatable slices are available on the table.
I have been happily suffering from grandeur delusion believing that I have legions of devoted fans. Getting nutty or not, one thing is for real, my biggest fan will always be my mother. There are no ifs or buts about it. And because of what I quoted above, the feeling of course is mutual.
The benefit of being with your mother is that you are allowed to simply be yourself and say whatever you like to the point of throwing tantrums. That is what I exhibited when my family was travelling back to Manila after an overnight stay at the hometown of my father in Pangasinan last weekend.
And as usual, just like any rural adventure that my family would carry out from time to time, Nengkoy never fails to stop over and shop at the local palengke (wet and public market) of the rural place we visit. Our journey would not be complete without Nengkoy buying the local produce of the province or the countryside we visit – bushy-tailed vegetables, freshly caught fishes, newly slaughtered meat, brightly colored fruits as well as local indigenous delicacies. She wouldn’t just buy a piece or two just to satisfy her shopping passion. She would buy tons of it!!!
This usually makes me cranky and grouchy. This is because I and the whole family need to spend considerable amount of time at the border and perimeters of the wet market doing nothing but wait while Nengkoy finish her procurement. My considerate and selfless brothers and sisters are so used to Nengkoy’s habit they would sometimes join her in penetrating the labyrinthine passageways of the palengke to locate the freshest produce and help her out carry the loads of her purchases. I, at all times refuse to join the pack but instead just wait and wait and wait. Did I already say that I impatiently wait?
Anyway, while we were in Manaoag, Nengkoy purchased local delicacies of Pangasinan: bags of puto calasiao (local rice cakes of Calasiao, Pangasinan) and tupig (charcoal-grilled glutinous rice and grated coconut wrapped in banana leaves).
While we were in Dagupan, she purchased tubs-full of fresh bangus (milk fish), oysters, large shrimps, a bag full of mangoes and large bottles of the local bagoong (a brown, murky yet tasty sauce made from fermented tiny fishes).
We also made a stopover in Villasis where she bought heaps and oodles of locally grown vegetables – malunggay (fruits of moringa tree), talong (eggplants), sibuyas-pula (tiny red onions), bawang (garlic), kalabasa (pumpkin), and even bouquets of bulaklak ng kalabasa (squash blossoms).
All throughout these panic purchasing moments, I did nothing but wait and complain. Grrr! We literally could no longer move inside the car for it was full of the local produce of Pangasinan. Out of madness, I even cried out loud to everybody inside the vehicle traversing the highways of North Luzon on our way back to Manila that we are already like “Umaandar na Bulanglang!” (a rolling Bulanglang – a stew made of fish and mixed vegetables seasoned with bagoong that originated from northern Luzon).
nengkoy with some of her bulanglang veggies
Pagdating sa bahay ni Nengkoy, ako din naman ang kumain ng mga yon. ‘Yan si Nengkoy walang kupas. At ako, walang pasensya.
Abundantly lined-up are red plastic bags hanging on the branches of massive trees at the edge of a long stretch of highway in Tarlac contains a local fruit. My family on our way to Manaoag Pangasinan last Saturday noticed and initially wondered what those red plastic bags contains. Until one of us realized that it contains Camachile being sold by the local folks right under the shade of the trees.
I haven’t tasted Camachile so I told my siblings inside the vehicle that I wanted to buy and savor its taste. But when I told them this, we already passed Tarlac and no vendor is in sight. Nengkoy however explained that it is okay since Camachile is actually not a tasty fruit variant. She added that I will not actually like it. But on our way back to Manila the following day, I insisted on buying and hopefully enjoy the taste of the fruit for the first time which is considered rare for a city dweller like me.
My brother-in-law considerately stopped the vehicle when we were along the highway stretch of Moncada Tarlac to purchase two full plastic bags. Each bag cost twenty-five pesos. I gave Kuya Bogis (my brother seated at the front seat of the car) sixty pesos to hand over to the lady vendor for two bags of Camachile and told him to tell the vendor to keep the change. Nengkoy gave me her usual indescribable stare to express her disgust on why she was not given the chance to practice her price-haggling-skills. When we continued our journey back to Manila she told everyone inside the vehicle that price haggling is supposed to be done to lower down the price of the item being purchased and not to swell it higher which I, according to her, unacceptably just did. Nengkoy of course is just being her usual self! That was the moment that I told everyone that I won’t give them even a little piece in case I liked it.
When I excitedly opened one bag of Camachile, I was surprised to find that all of the fruit’s skin crusts were cracked open. In full shock I shouted and asked them that this may no longer be edible since the fruit’s edible meat has been exposed! Everyone laughed because of my stupidity and explained that the crusts are expected to be naturally open to signify that the meat is already ripe and could already be devoured.
With full gentleness, I picked one fruit and took off the seed beneath the white meat. I chose the one whose skin crust has turned red expecting it to be sweet. But when I placed it in my mouth and chewed it, the only words that came out of my mouth was, “Ay! Lasang papel!!!” (It tasted like paper!). Nengkoy and the rest of the pack broke a big laugh.
Nengkoy then told me “I told you so…” and practically started her usual litany by saying that sixty pesos could have purchased a kilo of sweet ripe mangoes in Villasis Pangasinan and that I was such a bull headed monster for not listening to her. With my insistence I again tried another Camachille expecting a sweeter version but to no avail. That was the moment I offered everyone inside the car to have Camachile as their snack while we headed back to Manila. Some took a little piece, tasted it and by no means asked for another one.
Nengkoy wished that her 75th birthday be held and celebrated in the vast coconut plantation estate that was converted into a tourist destination located south of Metro Manila. True enough, her wish was made into a reality when Nengkoy, twenty seven crazy members of my family and I trooped to Villa Escudero Plantation & Resort on her birthday.
Every member of my family was treated with a 2-day glimpse of a typical life of rural Philippines. Upon arrival we were served with refreshing “gulaman” as a welcome drink. After which, the whole pack were led to the magnificent museum that houses the marvelous antique and unique collections of the Escuderos. There were all forms of Catholic statues and statuettes. We saw an overwhelming array of Filipino costumes, jars, vases, indigenous forest hunting gears, stuffed Pinoy-once-endemic fauna and other eclectic treasures made, found and discovered in the Philippines. I was particularly was astonished by the collection of authentic handwritten letters of Philippines’ National Hero Dr. Jose Rizal displayed in that marvelous museum.
facade of the museum
After feasting our eyes to the overwhelming collections found in the museum, we were then taken for a ride on a carabao-drawn cart for a tour around the vast resort. Seated at the end of the cart were two resort staffs in traditional Filipino clothes. One played the guitar while the other sang traditional Filipino songs while the cart was being drawn to lead us to checked-in at our respective nipa-like villas built right at the edge of a serene lake. The villas were reminiscent of a traditional Filipino house called “Bahay Kubo”.
my monster "pamangkins" on their carabao caravan ride
jumpshot!!!
We then immediately proceeded to one of the highlights of our stay. The scrumptious buffet lunch served and eaten al fresco style few meters away from the base of a waterfall. Still typical of a Filipino dining set-up, we ate on native bamboo-craft-woven plates with banana leaf as its lining and our soup bowls were coconut shells! Breakable chinaware was non-existent! Flowing water on the ground touching and lashing our feet add up to the delicious dining experience.
An hour after lunch, we then headed to one of the resort’s pavilions where a Filipino cultural dance display is being held. The show featured various ethnic and colonially influenced Filipino dances performed by the employees of the resort. The costumes, the music, the colors, the graceful dance moves were all but a rewarding add-on during our stay in Villa Escudero.
a piece of a young coconut palm leaf weaved to form like a fish handed to me by one of the dancers
After the show, we proceeded to our assigned villa for a short afternoon rest. The villa is not equipped with TV, sound system and not even an internet. All you got is the refreshingly beautiful scenery of what the old Philippines were plus the melodious sound of birds lurking around the area.
Later in the afternoon, majority of us lined up to get our respective paddles plus a life vest for we did a little of rowing at the pristine lake using an old-fashioned kayak in the form of a bamboo raft. While we do the rowing, other members of the family were busy trying to catch live fish from the lake or just busy lazing around. In the same afternoon, a number of employees of the resort serenaded Nengkoy at the villa singing a couple of Kundiman songs plus of course the classic birthday song in Tagalog version.
erika and the band!!!
Dinner buffet was served inside an elegant pavilion. This is the moment when Nengkoy was greeted by the singers performing during dinner time and was surprised when a birthday cake was brought to her table for her to make a wish and blow the candle. After which, the rest of the night was spent bonding and chitchatting before everybody hit the sack with smiles on our faces.
nengkoy about to blow her birthday cake candle
Our stay and adventure in Villa Escudero to celebrate Nengkoy’s 75th birthday is no doubt one of my family’s memorable experiences! I actually don’t know how to end this writing. But one thing is for sure Villa Escudero is one authentic representation of Filipino pride, culture and extravaganza.
It made me want to dance the Tinikling as sang by the 50’s circa Pinay diva, Sylvia La Torre…
When I was still new to my chosen profession, I am often asked by my Tatay Joe and Nengkoy (my insanely beloved parents) on what are the usual questions I ask a job applicant. They would often ask if I’m a strict or a lenient interviewer. With full enthusiasm, I would of course answer to a slant that they would be so proud of me.
But my answers never seem to amaze Nengkoy. She told me that I am just giving a hard time for another person to land a good job. When I asked her why, she told me that when she applied for a job more than fifty years ago in PEMCO she was never asked a single question. The Catholic priest who was supposed to be the interviewer simply instructed her to loudly pray the Hail Mary and the Our Father. And when she did, she was automatically offered the job.
PEMCO, the leading manufacturing company of incandescent and fluorescent lights decades ago, is the only organization that Nengkoy worked with because she did not resigned to transfer to another company and instead rendered more than forty years of loyal service to that organization. This makes Nengkoy never to have been subjected to any professional job interview yet worked for a company for more than half of her life.
That’s how rare the snippets in Nengkoy’s professional life who is by the way celebrating her 75th birthday today. Happy Birthday to the Diamond Girl…
A couple of years back my younger sister Joy initiated a family tradition. Every December 24 the whole Langit clan is distributed with shirts of the same design. This is the shirt that every member of the family would wear to welcome the birth of Jesus Christ. Everyone would wear it otherwise you would be considered an outcast.
Each year, the family’s surname is printed on the shirt. This year was something different, in which collaboration and consensus of everyone was carried out. As early as October this year suggestions and wild ideas are aired out and would crop out among family members on what shall be this year’s color and shirt design during simple family gatherings at Nengkoy’s house.
This is our 2011 Christmas shirt…
*
A Japanese kanji read as Tengoku meaning Heaven in English or Langit if translated to Filipino.
While I have been ferociously busy and recently suffered from general insanity that caused me not to write posts and articles in this blog as regularly than the usual, let me just herald about the new photo banner of this blog. It’s me and Nengkoy in our sunnies, shades or sunglasses.
The photo was taken during our last visit to Singapore.
That is why I am saddened to know that my tukayo has passed away. It felt like the beautiful birthmark on my skin that I have been so proud of has suddenly disappeared. I feel like I lost the chieftain of the tribe whom I belong.
Nengkoy 