Sundae special

Hometowns can be blasé to many, especially if they just live a few minutes drive away. But my hometown has always greeted me with interesting candour. I am always awed by the many new things that I discover each time I come for a visit. The residents, the goings-on, the seasons - all have given me new insights about the town I call my home and the home of my forebears.

Last Sunday I was home again to visit my mother. I was with my wife and kids. We arrived at around 10:30am, late for the market (Sunday is market day in my hometown) when we could buy fresh farm produce for lunch. But I texted my sister that I was bringing some fish - bangos, sapsap, matangbaka - and she could ask my nieces to buy kadyos for the bangos. The other vegetables I could pick from my farm nearby. The sapsap we can make into pinamarhan and the matangbaka we can broil together with pork. I was getting hungry by just thinking about our lunch.

After we arrived in our house and while everyone was busy preparing lunch, I went to the market to see what else to buy. The market was nearly deserted as it was nearly lunchtime. But the vendors were still on their toes, hoping that they could still make another sale, or another suki would just drop by for a forgotten ingredient.

The vendors were courteous - some knew me as this is a small town, while others, I thought, pretended they knew me to tempt me to buy their stuff. I too pretended I was interested to buy their stuff to inveigle a conversation with them.

Here are some photos of my Sunday adventure.

1. After the customers left, this family gathered in their fruit stall to celebrate a profitable day. 'Life is hard but we all help each other to survive,' says matriarch Nenita B. The happy faces told me it was a real good day.

2. Sinugba nga mais was tempting. I didn't like to buy because it was nearly lunchtime. But the vendor insisted. She said it was pilit nga mais and just right for broiling and that if I won't buy, she would just give me some because I was her relative. I tried to recall where I met her. She told me about her family. She then introduced me to her elder folks standing nearby. Everybody shook my hand. Daw politiko ako. I ended up buying all the mais which were already cooked! On my way home, I was thinking that the mais episode was the best marketing ploy.

3. There was a barbershop inside the market. This was a new discovery. The stall was also selling halo-halo. You can have a haircut while lapping up a bowl of halo-halo. Great combination! Who needs an airconditioned barbershop?

4. I am not fond of eating lamayo nga bangros. Maybe once a month is enough. But when this Lola, who sits at the entrance of the town market, calls my name I just could not resist buying a tompok. One tompok of lamayo consisting of 3 pieces of binulad is about Php 120.00. Lola will not accept my No as an answer. As soon as she sees me approaching, she readies a page of newspaper to wrap the lamayo with. If I alibied that I have no money, she will just shove the wrapped lamayo unto my hand and tells me to enjoy the viand, and that I can pay later when I come back even after a month. With vendors like this, how can I go hungry?

5. My kids wanted to eat ginat-an - ground pilit nga bugas nga gin-lugaw with gata, bananas, and camote. So we looked for the ingredients. We bought coconut na panggata. The coconut was halved and grated in front of us. But only after the vendor asked for my kids, their names and their ages, and the other kids who accompanied me. She asked about my job, my mother, my sisters, and my brothers. It was only after I convincingly answered all her questions that she started preparing for what I liked to buy. Ahhh.. in a small town like this, everybody is supposed to know everybody.

6. Each time there is an affair in our household, I always order puto and ibos from this lady. She makes the best puto and ibos in my hometown. In the photo, she was preparing ground rice for puto. When I saw her, I immediately asked her if I still have unpaid utang. I was glad when she informed me that there was none. My practice, kasi, was to ask a friend to inform the lady to deliver puto or ibos to my mother's house whenever somebody asked me to order. Sometimes I forgot to pay because the order was not mine. But the lady never complained.

7. The vendors seemed sleepy because they could have been in the market since dawn. But when they saw a probable customer in me, they brightened up. I bought huwad-huwad and puto lanson. I always buy the native delicacies not just because my kids loved them, but also because I like to keep this home industry alive.

8. It has been years now since I've eaten dried fish. Not because I don't like it. It's more on doctor's advice. When I saw this mound of baringon, I remembered the years when I was living abroad. My sisters used to send me dried fish from the Philippines and my wife kept them at the bottom of our ref to hide from some too-comfortable visitors. Dried fish from Iloilo was heaven-sent to Filipinos living abroad. So, whenever she cooked the baringon, pinakas and daghanan/tabagak she would call our friends to drop by and have dinner with us. And everybody came in a rush as if we prepared a grand party, and dug unto the baringon, etc. as if these were the foods of the gods. As a bonus, we also had sinamak brought in from the Philippines.

9. The most nostalgic find I had in the market were buyo leaves sold beside dried tobacco leaves. As I recalled, buyo was one sangkap used when you make mama (accent in last 'ma') - the practice of chewing beetle nut by old folks. My owaw used to ask me to buy buyo when I was still a kid. The last time I saw buyo was when my paternal owaw was still alive. All my owaws were already dead for decades now. And I am now an owaw myself, courtesy of my four nieces. As an owaw, do I have to chew buyo also?

10. I saw these items in one stall - small portions of cooking oil, vinegar, and soy sauce in plastic containers. Onli in da Philippines. People in rural areas are fond of buying in tingi-tingi or small portions. They only wanted a small something, good for a day's use. This is one marketing strategy popular in the Philippines. Shampoos, toothpastes, etc. are sold in sachets to maximize sales. And vendors prepare their own small portions, like those in the picture, to entice more buyers.

11. On the way to the farm, I chanced upon this bridal entourage without the bride in front of the church. The groom appeared like looking for his lost bride while the guests who were obviously the principal sponsors were also looking for somebody. And as I looked at them in just my sando, I couldn't imagine their discomfort and uneasiness in their gowns and fine regalia while being baked under the heat of the noonday sun. But I also understood that when you wear your formal attire which had been kept inside a baul for so long and may still be smelling like napthalene, you feel so gwapo or gwapa that you can withstand whatever punishment such a feeling brings.@