on a hammock swinging ....

on a hammock swinging
my eyes closed
baby jude asleep
on my chest

sunlight passing through
transparent leaves above
just rinsed green leaves
rustling with the breeze

on a hammock swinging
my eyes closed
baby jude asleep
on my chest

once again i dream
of the sea.


we spent the weekend in my daughter's place in the pocono mountains. it felt kind of peaceful wonderful, breathing in fresh air, seeing lots of green, passing through small ponds and small meadows, admiring white wildflowers on the wayside, etc. at night, some sounds and silhouettes reminded me of my barrio, though of course, the stars seemed closer and the nighttime sky deeper blue in my father's place by the sea.

on saturday morning, my husband put up the woven rope hammock he bought earlier, tying the ends to two bigger trees in the gravel- covered yard. my two grandsons ( three- and six- years old) excitedly took turns. when they had to leave with my their mother for the community pool, it was my turn. i told my daughter not to take the baby anymore and after she gave him to me it didn't take long before the gentle swinging put him to sleep.

since i couldn't move because of the sleeping baby, i just let my mind wander and by habit, took a trip back to my childhood in hamuraon. i recalled the sand dunes, a wide stretch where we could run and write and draw at times; covered by the sea on other times. on certain days, depending on the size of the moon, the water rises and has covered the white pebbled beach by noon and by dusk has ebbed so low that islands of corals and rocks are revealed where just earlier white crested waves rolled.

i recalled different kinds of fishes, either our catch or bought or given to us, glistening and competing with the gleam of the white porcelain basins, so firm and fresh with captured bits of moving rainbows in their skin. i allowed myself to be mesmerized by the thousands of blinking black dots on the back of slippery squids that get caught with the fishes. the puffers baffled me most. how could a fish be just head and skin? sea horses, seacows, starfishes, sea urchins, jellyfishes, i have marveled at them all.

on land, there was also much to fascinate any child and to enjoy observing -- even the poverty, or should i say the simple life, of the barrio folks. life was so simple and free then, food and air so fresh and abundant.

the leaves rustle above, baby jude moves. i look at my darling grandson and i could not help but feel sad. i think of all of my grandchildren. yes, the poconos is the closest thing to hamuraon that they have so far experienced but it is still a million miles away. yes, they have seen deer and some ants and some bugs and have heard some crickets in the night. they have played and waded on the small lake and manmade beach. but i wish they could have more.

if only i could give my grandchildren even half of my childhood to enjoy. or even a quarter, for that matter.

(Grand) Motherly Concerns

I felt so relieved that my two granddaughters' urine tests came back negative for blood and protein, after two previous ones which showed traces of them. Fortunately, it was the young male doctor who was at the clinic when I brought my grandkids the last time. The other pediatrician, his sister, was already ready to refer them to a kidney specialist.

He told me to get the specimens right after they wake up in the morning. I would have suggested it to him, anyway, having read that some children who have walked about already before a sample is taken may show protein and blood that somehow have seeped through the kidneys to their bladders. Having a brother who has had a kidney transplant, and having witnessed the pain and accompanying problems of dialysis, I was very worried for my son's two girls. They are way too young and innocent to be having a kidney problem. Especially when the older, who is only ten, asked me 'What if they still find some, what next?' She was looking straight in my eyes when she asked the question and for a while I was quiet feeling a cold dread in my heart, but I managed to say 'Let us wait for the results first.'

Thank God the results were what I wanted to hear!

I remember when I was raising my children, about thirty, thirty-five years ago. My concerns after dealing with the usual childhood diseases (e.g. measles and chicken pox) were usually colds and diarrhea. My childrens' pediatrician, Dr. Songco, of the Hospital of the Infant Jesus, either gave them erythromycin or ampicillin (for the respiratory ailments) and chloromycetin for the other complaints. I learned later on that chloromycetin has been banned here in the US, but of course, the Philippines is a third world country and third world countries are where they dump(ed) what they can not distribute here.

Of course, in the tropics, mothers also have the task of deworming (eew) and getting rid of lice (more eew) which children usually get from their babysitters. However, adults then, and maybe even now, were just barely aware of cholesterol, blood glucose, high blood pressure and the like, so it seems strangely odd for me sometimes that nowadays, children here have to be tested for these sorts. My two granddaughters are now watching their diet somewhat. One's cholesterol is a little high for their age and both their blood glucose though still normal are on the higher end of the range. Recently, my daughter's friend overheard them conversing and she joked that she thought two adults were talking because they were talking about cholesterol and blood sugar.

And speaking of diet, even babies nowadays are made to diet. My daughter has always breastfed her little ones. They are bigger compared to other babies their age. Twice she was advised by the baby doctor to reduce her feeding times. The other boy also has slightly elevated cholesterol, and so she has to watch his carbs and other food intake.

There is also the problem of early puberty. One of my grandkids (there are seven of them) entered this stage quite early, and another one has shown a symptom. Just one should not be cause for concern, many will probably think, but one at six years old for me is something to be looked into. So it is a good thing, I think, that my daughter will bring my grandkid to an endocrinologist. Precocious puberty, hypothyroidism, hyperthyroidism, hormone imbalance, diabetes, obesity, etc. I as a mother during those times was never concerned about these things.

Of course it is the food! And maybe the plastics. Or the microwave. The chemicals in the air.
There should be less eating out. No good. Too much sodium and sugar. Ooh, those tall glasses of shake! How many tablespoons of sugar in a can of soda? Slow down on MacDonalds and Burger King and the hotdogs and Spam. Throw out throw- in- the- microwave types of food. Preservatives? Of course they have lots of preservatives. Fresh meat should be washed thoroughly or boiled for a few minutes first with the boiled-in water then thrown out. It is a fact that animals are injected with hormones to make them bigger and with a lot of antibiotics, too, that may then be ingested by the people who eat their meat. Think about it!!

(To think that most times we made fun of those days when we fed our children a lot of rice and sabaw (broth), and just a little meat with lots of sarsa (gravy). There is an upside to being in a third world country, after all.

watching the setting sun

watching the setting sun is a big part of everyone's day in barrio hamoraon, a coastal paradise bounded by the blue-green sea in the west and by the verdant hills and mountains in the east. the sun peeps behind the misty mountains at dawn, slowly ascends, follows an arc over the barrio, then slowly descends amidst a huge blast of colors until it is swallowed by the sea.

watching the sun set is such a big event to the barrio folks, or so it seemed to me when i was young. there spending the first four years of my young life and all subsequent summers thereafter. but, on the contrary, sunset wasn't really a special time of the day for them.

it just happened that around this time, the farmers and workers who have stopped toiling, have made their downward trek to their nipa homes by the sea. the scorching heat of the sun gone, it was time for the raggamuffins, chasing dogs and cats, to take their play to the white pebbled beach, throwing and catching green balls that never bounced, balls made out of entwined palm. it was time for the lasses to whiten their faces with heavily perfumed chinese solid powder and to play seesaw on the narrow bancas with barefooted and barechested lads who laughed and cajoled with them. it was time for the fishermen to prepare their petromax or kolman ( brands of petroleum lamps, as in Coleman) and then to set out in their bancas for their nighttime vigil at sea.

so there at the beach they converge at sunset, the farmers and workers washing the mud off their feet in the salty water, children running and playing, the young blood flirting and laughing, the fishermen setting out to sea, the young mothers with babies on their hips and mucus-faced toddlers clinging to their skirts, old men squatting nearby, puffing on their homemade newspaper rolled tobacco, and red- mouthed women chewing on their nganga, or betel mix.

the beach has suddenly come to life, i take the scene, then i usually settle on the prow of a sibiran, a slim colorful boat, on its katigs, or bamboo floaters, and i watch intently at the sun and the sky ablazed with myriad hues of orange and purple and yellow and blue. sunset is God's gift of beauty to the people of barrio hamoraon. beauty so magnificent yet so free.

people in america would spend and travel to see such beauty. the barrio folks of hamoraon take it for granted.

i loved watching the setting sun in my father's barrio by the sea.

but i watch a different sun set now.