Soul Highway

‘Beautiful mind’

I spent the better part of my morning yesterday going around downtown DC and going back home without incident. I feel much better now that I am starting to become mobile again. Around here, planning is a crucial part of taking a trip that requires getting on the bus or the train. I’m starting to realize there are some things endemic to being Filipino that I need to tone down a bit or undo. Such as being, ahem… “spontaneous.” As spontaneous as hopping on the first jeepney that comes rumbling down the street like we do in the Philippines.

Husband took this photo of a jeepney, the primary mode of transportation in most major cities in the Philippines, in October 2005.

When you’re unfamiliar with the area, and you need to get from Point A to Point B on time, planning is everything. Planning now consists of going to the Washington Metro website, printing out – and being able to read – a map (that’s asking a lot from me, I’m telling you) and making sure there’s enough money on your fare card. I managed to get to my destination and met the husband for lunch at the mall. The food was disappointing but seeing the husband on his lunch break was the day’s highlight.

Now, my close friends know this – I am paranoid of crazy people. If, from a distance, I see someone who I suspect is not in his right mind, I wouldn’t mind turning back and walking six blocks just to avoid being in his path for two reasons: 1) I fear the possibility of being attacked and 2) I can’t charge an insane person in court. See the “lose all” situation? One time, I was riding the jeepney to work and found myself sitting in front of someone mumbling to himself. I got off at the first stop.

Yesterday, on the train, I found myself sitting at the back of a man wearing a red sweater. I was enjoying the view outside when I noticed the passenger in front writing intently. Nothing unusual in that, right? Well, not until I saw that he’d been scribbling numbers and dates on pages and pages of paper. Alarm bells went off. I wanted to be invisible and, believe it or not, I prayed he wouldn’t turn his head around. Hey, he could have just been jotting down his work hours and shame on me for thinking the worst. Maybe I’m an oddball myself.

I recalled the incident to a friend over the phone. Sounds like someone from “Beautiful Mind”, she said. The image of Russell Crowe feverishly writing Math equations on glass windows flashes in mind. Umm… yeah.

Riding an almost empty train affords you plenty of time to contemplate life.

‘Hibernating’ trees and the kamote story

In the natural course of things in the US, the weather will only get colder and colder in the coming weeks and months. In my natural, genetic makeup as a Filipino, that means I am going to freeze. Every now and then the sun would come out, for maybe 15 minutes. Okay, maybe longer than that but definitely light years away from what I refer to as normal – the broiling heat in the Philippines.

When I got here in September, it was green everywhere. A few days ago, on our way to Maryland for Thanksgiving dinner over at one of the husband’s friends, the trees were a picture of an aftermath of El Niño. In between that, their leaves had changed into different colors. That was a beautiful sight. That tree with flaming orange leaves which bore witness to our wedding is now reduced to a brownish, skeletal form.

The husband explained the trees are not dead but sleeping through the cold months. Here are some “before and after” pictures.

From picturesque...

to lifeless. The trees go through this transition as the weather changes.

Back to Thanksgiving. I’m not sure how many turkeys were sacrificed that day, but they do make for good eating. I’d like to say Thanksgiving is very much akin to the Noche Buena in the Philippines, wherein people stuff their stomachs to the maximum capacity, “hibernate” for a bit and then revisit the dining table for another round of eating.

Turkey is good, but I had found a friend in something all too common in the Philippines: sweet potatoes. That would be “kamote” for us Filipinos. I could eat sweet potato pie all day!

Later that day I had a chance to talk to a friend of mine now living in New York. Ultimately, the conversation led to our thoughts and experiences on Thanksgiving – and a common discovery. She, too, had set aside the turkey for sweet potatoes. Talk about Filipinos eating kamote in the US. We’ve come full circle gastronomically, don’t you think?

Encounters with the in-law

Okay, enough procrastination. It’s been more than two weeks since my last post so I finally summoned the willpower to get some writing done. The last two weeks had been great – husband’s mom flew in for a conference and extended her itinerary for a couple of days to spend time with us, ventured into downtown DC on my own and I had my first taste of Thanksgiving, turkey and all. Whew.

I count myself as lucky. As they say, marrying someone means marrying into that someone’s family. There are the amazing tales that surround the coming together of two different clans (peculiarities included), and then there are the “horror” stories. I’ve only met one-half of my in-laws but I believe she represents what the family is all about. I always tell the husband that I’m a sucker for good conversations and those two days were filled with wonderful exchanges with the mother-in-law. She’s simply an amazing person.

As an aside, is it just me or is it common among new additions to the family to get stuck on how to address the in-laws? I remember my sister saying it took her sometime to get used to calling her mother-in-law “Ma.” When it was time for dinner, for example, she would let her words trail off to not sound disrespectful, like, “Mangaon na ta…” (Let’s eat.) Or start the invitation with, “Umm…” Husband here assures me it’s all right to call his mom by her first name. In my culture that would raise some eyebrows and I would be then labeled as the impertinent daughter-in-law. “Mom” sounds better. Just needs some getting used to, something which I don’t mind at all.

My mother used to say I was born to talk, pointing to the moles just above my upper and lower lips as Exhibits A and B. However, I do think it’s a blessing when we get to meet people who we can really talk or open up to or laugh with, the kind who, after even just a short conversation, make you go, “That was really good.” Meeting wonderful people is an even beautiful thing so this post is my way of saying “thank you” to her.