Spam - Ain't No Pantry Like a Pinoy Pantry

It’s been about four years now since I moved out of my parents’ house and decided to take a huuuge bite out of the Bigggg Apple and move into... a shoebox. I miss home-cooking (no amount of excited emojis can properly express the taste of my mom’s mechado). However, I realized the other day that despite not living at home, there are a few things in my pantry that are very Pilipino and help bring the taste of home to my new home.

• SPAM: Why do I have so much SPAM? I am literally being spammed by SPAM. A little over a year ago, just hours before Hurricane Sandy hit New York, my roommate and I fried two cans of SPAM just in case we wouldn’t be able to cook food for a few days. We ate all the SPAM... before the hurricane even made landfall.

• Silver Swan Soy Sauce: Every marinated batch of meat calls for buckets of soy sauce... and Sprite, apparently.

• Sardines: The summer after I graduated college, I did a two-month unpaid internship in Australia. Yes, unpaid. I was working and not making money. Whatever pocket money I had was supposed to cover my nights out with friends at the bars and fun touristy activities like climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge and playing with kangaroos. Luckily my office was walking distance to my apartment so I would go home for lunch and eat sardines. Doing that saved me tons of money.

• Rufina Patis: Fish Sauce. It is as smelly as it sounds (perhaps even more so), but the taste is magical. Goes perfectly on brothy chicken dishes, which is quite puzzling.

• Tang: This is a sorry excuse for orange juice, because I don’t think it’s technically healthy. It’s basically orange-flavored sugar. When I was a kid, I would tap my glass to get the sugar at the bottom when I was done drinking. Actually, I still do this. Nevermind.

• Corned Beef: Whenever I go home to New Jersey to visit my parents, you will most definitely find me lugging back the following to Manhattan: a load of clean laundry (I always regret it on the way back, but whatever, I save $5 per load!) and at least two cans of Palm Corned Beef. Although, I always later discover an extra can that my mom stuffs in my bag when I’m not looking. She’s like the Corned Beef fairy. Thanks Ma!

• Rice Cooker: Back when I was shopping around for colleges and visiting campuses with my parents, there was this one time when our tour guide was showing us a sample dorm room. When the tour guide asked if anyone in the group had any questions, my mom raised her hand and asked, “Can he bring a rice cooker?” I wasn’t able to bring one to college, but best believe I use a rice cooker now.

• Pancit Canton: It’s pretty much Ramen Noodles. Except you don’t feel as broke and sad when you eat it.

• Vienna Sausages: You know it’s going to be a good day when you shake them out of the can in one motion and they’re all intact! #smallvictories. But you splashed sausage juice all over your kitchen counter. #youcantwineverything.

• Datu Puti Vinegar: With Longaniza. Garlic rice. Fried egg. Done. So done.

• Mang Tomas All-Purpose Sauce: Lechon is just not the same without it. (Side note: it is sooo not an “all purpose sauce” like it claims to be. Wikipedia even says so.

• White Rice: I’ve been trying really hard these past few months to be healthier and eat brown rice. My roommate and I have even gone so far as to hide our tub (yes, tub) of white rice. But daaaamn, there is nothing as beautiful as a plate of ulam on a bed of steaming, white rice.

Cheap. Delicious. Cultural. Dare I say they are solid hangover cures? And most importantly, guaranteed to help you survive through a zombie apocalypse? Non-perishable goods FTW!

Photo Credit: The Perfect Pantry

Life Lessons from a Substitute

“SUBSTITUTE!”

It was my first day on the job. At the sound of that signal a stream of rowdy sixth grade boys stomped into the Spanish classroom shouting, cheekily pushing each other around, and repeatedly slamming their binders on their desks. They could tell I was fresh meat; I looked young, obviously had little teaching experience, and barely knew anything at all about the school or its students. No, being a substitute teacher isn’t easy.

I started substitute teaching last September because I wanted to gain more experience in the classroom and sample different subjects, grades, and education styles before going to graduate school for a Masters in Teaching. I did not know what I was in for. Challenging though it may be, throughout this school year I’ve learned many lessons from my subbing misadventures that I think are applicable to all sorts of general life situations.

Lesson #1: Fake it ‘til you make it

Walking into a new classroom as a substitute is like walking into the unknown. You don’t know any of the students’ names, what they’re learning, their rules and routines, or whether they’re going to be trustworthy or mutinous. But it’s your job to take charge of the class and make everything run smoothly just as if it were any other day.

When I substitute I need to take full control and act like whatever classroom I’m spending the day in has been mine all year. Whenever you’re trying something new, a bold face and straight spine goes a long way in boosting confidence and presence, and assures those around you while you figure things out along the way. Of course, don’t let your act get in the way of asking questions; being a newbie is still better than screwing everything up.

Lesson #2: Hold your ground

There’s always at least one student who will try to test their limits with a substitute, whether it’s conveniently forgetting normal classroom rules or dramatic displays of outright defiance (I once had a student who refused to stop shouting ‘Yo mama’ jokes in the middle of art class). To do my job correctly and prevent anarchic uprisings I have to be an unwavering rock, laying down the law so that everybody can successfully learn in a respectful and safe environment.

People are always going to challenge you whether it’s at your job, in your relationships, or randomly on the street. Stick to what you believe is right to do what you need to do.

Lesson #3: The power of positive framing

When I first started, my instinct to deal with misbehaving students was to chastise them and warn them with a punishment. I soon realized that by emphasizing their misbehaviors, my words made the students feel threatened and distrusted, causing them to act out even further. Once I started framing my words positively, I immediately saw a change in students’ reactions. Instead of, “Stop shouting or else your free time is over,” I would phrase my directions more like, “Remember, we use quiet voices in the classroom so that everybody can concentrate.”

Using positive framing when trying to motivate people is more effective because it optimistically envisions what one can work towards rather than against. People will feel more encouraged by kind words that respect their free agency and it will be easier to build more trusting relationships.

Lesson #4: Laugh it off and let it go

I have questioned my likableness and abilities as an educator, especially after having so many students challenge my authority in mischievous ways. Then I remember that these students aren’t acting up because they have a personal vendetta, but because historically, students have been messing around with substitutes since the dawn of time. While at times I can get frustrated with the students and with myself, I don’t take any of it personally. At the very least I always walk away with a hilarious story.

It’s not you, it’s them. Sometimes people just react to you negatively because of your position, their mood, or an infinite amount of other reasons. It’s not a reflection of you as a person so just laugh it off and let it go.

Photo credits: Hi Miss Gray

Little Manila, Taipei, Taiwan

I was on the MRT in Taipei on my way to a rock concert when I overheard a few words in Tagalog. Since I’ve arrived in Taiwan, I’ve been swathed in Chinese conversation. Being a long way from home, the familiar accents piqued my homesickness. I slowly worked up the courage to approach these three Pilipino women and as soon as I greeted them, the women started beaming. They introduced themselves, and after a bit of small talk, I asked them: “Do you miss the Philippines?” One of the women bit her lip, looked up at the ceiling on the train and murmured a quiet yes before she quickly changed the topic.

“Do you go to church?” she asked me.

Normally, it would seem a bit brash to hear such a question from a stranger, but it was one of the most Pilipino things I had heard in awhile! I nodded vehemently and said that I would try to go to the one in Little Manila. The women smiled and gave me directions. Soon I was at my stop, so I told the women that I’d see them at church as I scurried out of the MRT.

My first excursion to Little Manila was my first time traveling around Taipei alone. Within an hour, I was overwhelmed by the rain; my phone’s GPS was going haywire. As I was just about to give up, I saw a sign that was unmistakably Pilipino, and in that moment, I swear my heart dropped.

Little Manila is true to its name. With four stores and a church scattered on the corner of two streets, Little Manila was under- and overwhelming at the same time. Having been away from anything remotely Pilipino, I was craving some comfort food. I inched into an empty restaurant and spotted an elderly woman pop out from the kitchen at the back of the restaurant. As I ordered tocino and rice, I kept staring at her with teary eyes, wondering if she was real. She noticed my obvious homesickness and smiled. She chatted with me as I ate, and we discussed our respective homes, our families, the Philippines, etc.

As I was leaving, she told me to come back on Sunday.

“I’m now your lola,” she said, and I beamed back at her, trying not to look like an idiot.

Unfortunately, I didn’t end up seeing those Pilipinas from the MRT when I went to church, but I hope to cross paths with them again soon. According to the Manila Economic and Cultural Office, there are over 90,000 Pilipinos working in Taiwan; they are the third largest minority group in Taiwan. Most Pilipinos, like the ones I met on the MRT, work in factories. With so many overseas Pilipino workers in Taiwan, you would think there would be a larger Little Manila. The impression that I received from the neighborhood was that the Pilipino residents were trying to make do with what they had. The women in the MRT and the lola in the restaurant both spoke about the Philippines with great nostalgia, a little sigh of longing in their voice.

Perhaps the women feel the same as me. As tiny as Little Manila was, it’s big enough to fit the small, homesick hole in my heart.

Looking the Part: Ethnic Ambiguity on Broadway

I recently saw Aladdin on Broadway - a dream come true since it’s my favorite Disney movie and I’m a huge fan of Adam Jacobs, who plays Aladdin. As I always do after every show, I was looking through the Playbill on my train ride home and realized something interesting about the show’s casting. You see, Adam Jacobs is half-Pilipino, and amidst the slew of headshots smizing at me from the pages, I noticed at least four other sets of eyes that looked like mine and surnames that sounded similar to those of my titos and titas: Rivera, DelaCruz and Cao.

Welcome to Agrabah. City of mystery, of enchantment... of Pilipinos?

This got me thinking back on shows I had seen with Pilipino actors playing roles that are non-Pilipino or even non-Asian. The first time I saw Les Miserables on stage, it starred three Pilipinos in lead roles: Adam Jacobs, Ali Ewoldt, and Lea Salonga. I had also seen Jacobs as Simba in The Lion King. Darren Criss was the lead in How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying. Godspell starred Anna Maria Perez de Tagle and George Salazar.

I did some digging around and found other shows with Pilipino actors playing lead roles: In The Heights, Rent, Newsies, Bombay Dreams, Wicked, West Side Story, Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, just to name a few.

Pilipino actors have obviously been on Broadway for quite some time now, but when seeing them on stage, I saw them as actors. Not Pilipino actors. And that is probably how the rest of the world sees them too. While many of these actors are of a mixed background and could easily look like the ethnicity of the characters they’re portraying, there are still a few pure-blooded Pilipinos playing these roles. What Pilipinos have to their advantage in this arena is the ability to appear ethnically ambiguous.

Broadway isn’t teeming with shows created for an all-Pilipino or all-Asian cast, so until then, these actors play other roles such as a Dominican-American success story who finally made it out of the Heights, a man in the slums of Bombay daydreaming of becoming the next Bollywood sensation, or even a Middle Eastern boy with a magic lamp and a Genie. And it’s totally believable.

Due to being a hybrid of different races and ethnicities throughout the years, Pilipinos have certain physical attributes that can either be played up or toned down depending on the role: skin color, hair texture, even eye shape. One could have a complexion light enough to pass for a young Parisian girl in Les Miserables or have the voluminous curly hair needed to accompany the sequined gowns as one of the Dreamgirls. This versatile appearance is key as an actor. Pilipinos weave through the many different roles on Broadway not just because they have to, but also because they can.

There’s also something about a stage production that makes it more acceptable for actors to not perfectly match the parts they’re playing. Perhaps it’s the lack of literalism, which is something you won’t find in cinema. Everything in a stage production has a sort of temporary feel - the set, the lights, the costumes. Early Shakespeare plays starred men in all roles - even those of women. And I don’t know about you, but townspeople don’t just randomly burst out into song and choreographed dance numbers (at least not in New York, we have trains to catch!).

It seems, though, that the Broadway landscape is shifting towards non-traditional casting. Thanks to recent productions such as Romeo and Juliet with Orlando Bloom as Romeo and Condola Rashad as Juliet, audiences are seeing mixed casts where the issue of racial differences is not controlled, but celebrated.

Shakespeare wrote:

“All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.”

And for Pilipino actors, they don’t just get to play many parts, they play all the parts.

Photo credit: Broadway.com

Balikbayan Bayanis: Brian Morales

In my travels, I've been lucky to run into fellow Pilipinos born and/or raised overseas who return to the nation of their heritage in hopes of contributing positively towards various causes. In this series, I hope to give the spotlight to these amazing balikbayans. We are well into Bayani Challenge 2013. I’m taking one of my many breaks during the build. As I attempt to cope with the humidity and try to finish the syrupy sweet concoction that makes up a bottle of Sting energy drink, my eyes slowly lock on to Captain Canada. He’s once again with Alvin and John Vincent, children of kapitbahayan, the beneficiaries of Gawad Kalinga (GK) homes. The duo enjoyed Captain Canada’s company to the point where it seemed like they were inseparable throughout a good portion of the day. I couldn’t help but let my imagination run loose and picture that -- despite the likes of a language barrier -- how much of an impact he was making to those two, just as they would make an impact for him.

I’ve been participating in the Bayani Challenge (BC) for four years and this was the first time that I worked alongside a team from Canada. The team itself was led by Brian Morales, an airport ramp agent residing in Calgary and the man behind the super-heroic nickname. While Brian endlessly advocated in getting as many Fil-Can GK advocates to join him, the team itself was small but was nonetheless impressive: to be able to encourage a handful of his friends to dedicate at least a week of their time and resources to trek as far away as childhood home of Montreal and join us in this build is something enviable. Who knows how much larger our team would be if all of us managed to have successfully done the same!

As recently as a couple years ago, the Philippines was a distant land for Brian, himself having visited just twice in his twenty eight years. That soon changed, thanks to a three-pronged encounter that started with a visit six years ago and inspired him to bring that distant land closer to his heart. His first encounter was in a benefit concert for Gawad Kalinga, where he was reminded of his nieces and nephews as he watched a video of kids from a GK village. He left the concert with a resolve to bring a brighter future just he and those close to him have been given. The second event was on a Cebu Pacific flight into the country as he picked up a seat-back copy of the inflight magazine. It had an article on the biodiversity of the Philippines and how it was being tragically lost in the name of progress. The final piece that completed the trifecta occurred during that same trip, where he witnessed the Pilipino hospitality and family bond that his relatives shared with him despite two decades of separation. By then he was determined to return more often and to make every visit one where he would a difference.

On a grand scale, Brian is a supporter of the objectives that Gawad Kalinga has set for the year 2014, especially the goal of lifting five million families from poverty. It certainly is an ambitious target but he is a believer. Through his interactions with Amir Billones, the gentleman whom he owes a lot of his involvement in, and Tony Meloto, the founder of Gawad Kalinga, Brian has passionately advocated the GK mission throughout Canada. On a more personal level, he’s encouraging fellow Fil-Cans and Fil-Ams on the awareness on the fragile conditions of natural beauty in the PI.

Whenever he can, he’s busy doing just that. He’s constantly looking for Fil-Cans and fellow overseas Pilipinos to join him at the annual Bayani Challenge. The event has now been extended for a span of two months (a major upgrade from the Holy Week stint that we’re normally accustomed to and provides flexibility for participants) in which we can spend a few days working together with teams representing diverse backgrounds and in locations across the nation with an emphasis on the typhoon-hit regions. He also encourages individuals to visit a hub of several socially conscious enterprises in Bulacan known as the Enchanted Farm, a place whose members have left him with confidence that poverty in the Philippines can be eliminated.

His last piece of advice? No matter what cause you’re in:

“... Share the stories. Take the photos. Use Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and Tumblr what have you... you'll be surprised at the reach that you will provide that can contribute to the good in this world. Tell the stories!”

He is truly a man that walks the walk. On our last day at the Bayani Challenge build site, I noticed the final encounter Brian had with Alvin and John Vincent. This time he had two inspirational books to give them, each with a note scribbled on the inner cover. He hopes that one day, both boys will pick up these books, look at the notes, and will be inspired even more.

As I type this, I’m sure Brian is out there in the Albertan winter towing a Boeing 767 out of its gate. As those CF6 engines roar to life and kick up some snow, he’s wearing those noise protection headsets… but under them are a pair of ears who are eager to hear the stories of those contributing to the good in this world.