While my relatives are moving into their new home, I'm being busy finishing last minute business before I return "home". Growing up bilingual and bi-cultural, questions about home surfaces every now and then. Like Disney's Belle, I wonder where home is: "Am I here for a day or forever?"
1:30 am. A few more hours/minutes and the new moon would disappear. Cooler weather and less traffic were good reasons to be moving in at this time. Convenience and tradition were others.
My aunt was adamant about keeping alive lola's beliefs. The first person[s] to enter the house should bring with her a lighted lantern, a crucifix, a pot brimming with rice grain, and a jug filled with water. After the ritual, I was instructed to turn on all the lights.
Then the rest of the stuff followed. Hours passed by. Snacks were given to the movers. Refurbished dining table set arrived ( table inherited from lola ). Cable TV was installed. Showering, napping, and babysitting. The 2 breathing native chickens were killed. Their blood sprinkled in strategic spots around the house ( as an offering ).
I helped my aunt make Bilo-Bilo ( consisting of glutinous rice flour, pearls, and coconut milk ), and questioned her about this custom. With a Mona Lisa smile, she said: "It's good to eat this sticky and sweet dessert so family will stick together."
Our Bilo-Bilo didn't turn out as planned ( nature of improvisation ), but we ate them still after a dinner of rice and tinola ( consisting of the cooked native chickens, green papaya, ginger, and a leafy vegetable in a broth ).
I've been here in the Philippines for almost 6 weeks; I feel at home here and there, where ever my stomach gets filled with deliciousness.
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| Left: Lantern, crucifix, dining table set, pantry filled with cooking accoutrements. |
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