Araw ng Halalan

Matinik at  mapanganib ang panahon, katulad ng aking mga prickly pear cactus. At dahil araw ng halalan ngayon, patuloy ang akong nagmamasid at nakikiramdam. 

Kumusta na, ayos pa ba 

Ang buhay natin, kaya pa ba

Eh kung hinde, paano na

Ewan mo ba, bahala na?*

Maingay ang mga nakaraang mga buwan. Araw-araw, tuwing nasa social media ako, parang nasa loob ako ng colosseum kung saan ay may sabong, as in cockfighting sa English. Ayon pa sa American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA), ang sabong o pagsasabong ay isang klase ng blood sport na kung saan ay dalawang tandang ay nagsanay sa pananalakay para patayin ang kapwa  tandang. Tuwing napapadaan ako sa Facebook, tila mga tumataya sa sabong ang mga nakaka-engkwentro ko. Nakaka-addict ang kapayapaang dala ng pag-iwas ko sa Facebook. Sa sunod na sagutin mo ako ng "peace" kasama ng iyong mga emojis, tatanungin kita kung ano ang kapayapaan para sa iyo. Parehas ba ito sa iyong "peace"?

Tatanda at lilipas din ako...**

Pana-panahon ang pagkakataon

Maibabalik pa ba ang kahapon?***

Panapanahon din ang mga bayabas. Gusto kitang aanyayahan sa aking pamamayabas at pangangamote. 

Dahil minsan tayo'y nagkasama**

*Yano

**Florante

***Noel Cabangon

we are power: a book about active non-violence

by Todd Hasak-Lowy

Mohandas K, Gandhi, leader of the Indian Independent Movement...active violence, not passive resistance..

Alice Paul

And all hell broke loose

Heto na naman ako, gumagamit ng idiom for an easy title. Suddenly, there was pandemonioum!

I was at work last night sitting  in an easier station where I didn't have to watch patients on intensive care breathe their last.  At 7:20 PM, my husband texted me about Hope Hicks, Donald Trumps aide and kind of a surrogate daughter being ill of Covid-19.  Hindi ako manghuhula but  I texted back my husband that Trump will be next.  I'm sure many saw it coming, too.

"Mask it or casket!" Y read from her phone. 

I know more Trump voters/supporters  or "Trumpsters" than non-Trumpsters who Helen calls "snowflakes".  At work, Y and K  who are quiet to moderate Trumpsters lamented about the falling stock market prices. 

I never had the heart to repeat every conspiracy theory I hear from right-wing media pundits pouring praises to the Dear Leader like a lot of people I know: A, B, C, D, up to Yvonne. I feel sorry for President Trump but I have always wish for unity, peace and active non-violence in this country that has become my home. Liberals like Rachel Maddow is saying it all for me, for now.

Where the Crawdads Sing...my thoughts!

The author gives readers a glimpse of the marshes and swamps around Asheville in North Carolina. I have been seeing the book on the bestsellers list for weeks. Do crawdads even sing? By the way, WTF is a crawdad?

I have seen one by Peñasquitos Creek, downstream. It looks like a lobster and somebody identified it to me as crayfish. 

Ang bulaklak ng pea niya

Tuwing tagsibol, ang mga bulaklak ng lupine, isang ligaw na halaman na kabilang sa pamilya ng mga garbanzos at  gisantes o pea ang una kung hinahanap. Matapos ang tagsibol, nawawala ang mga lupine. Nang dahil dito,  naisipan kung magtanim ng garbanzos na kung tawagin sa English ay chick pea.

Ang folktale na pinamagatang "The Pea Blossom" ay katha ni Hans Christian Andersen, isang Danish,  at inilathala noong 1853. Kilala si Hans Christian Andersen  na lumikha sa ilang mga tanyag na kuwentong pambata katulad ng "The Little Mermaid", "Thumbelina" , "The Snow Queen" na mas kilalang "Frozen", "The Ugly Duckling" at iba pa. 

Ang bulaklak ng pea niya ay kwento ng limang putok sa buho, magkakapatid na buto na nanggaling sa isang buho ng gisantes. Isang bata ang tuwang-tuwang pumitas sa gumugulang na gisantes para sa kanyang laruang pea shooter. Nagpustahan  ang mga magkakapatid kung sino ang pinakasikat at pinakamatagumpay sa kanilang lahat. Ang pinakamalaki sa mga magkakapatid ang unang napili ng bata  at agad itong inilagay ang gisantes sa bibig at ibinuga gamit ng kanyang pea shooter. Di kalayuan napadpad amg unang gisantes at agad itong tinuka ng uwak. Ang pangalawang putok sa buho ay nais lumipad direcho sa araw. Hanggang ngayon missing in action pa rin ang turing sa pangalawang buto ng gisantes pagkabuga mula sa pea shooter. Dalawang buto na laging magkasama ang gusto lang matulog kung saan man sila mapadpad  at iyong nga nangyari. Ang pinakaliit na buto ay napadpad sa may bintana ng isang kubo. 

Sa kubo nakatira ang isang ale kasama ng kanyang masakiting anak na babae. Araw-araw, umaalis ang ale upang maglinis sa mga bahay ng mga mayayaman, maglaba, magluto, at iba pa. Napansin ng  masakiting anak na naiiwan buong araw  na nakaratay sa kanyang higaan ang pagsibol ng buto ng gisantes na napadpad sa isang malalim na kasulok-sulokan ng bintana kung saan umaagos ang ulan at naipon ang konting alikabok. Namangha ang masakiting bata sa tumubong gisantes at araw araw niyang pinagmasdan ang halaman. Di naglaon, ang minsa'y masakiting bata ay bumangon at naglakad na ilang hakbang patungo sa may bintana upang lubos na mapagmasdan ang bulaklak ng pea niya.

Jack and the Fava Beanstalk

Once upon a time there was a boy named Jack. Jack lived with his mom on a small farm at the foot of Misty Mountains somewhere in England. Jack and his mom were so poor that they had to sell Bessy, their milking cow so they could have money to fix their house in preparation for the coming winter: holes in the roof, broken windows and no front door. Jack's mom valued Bessy to be worth at least 5 gold coins. 

"You traded Bessy for a handful of fucking beans?"Jack's mom was so mad she threw the beans out of their broken window. Jack felt so gullible trading Bessy for a handful of beans that he went to bed without dinner that night. 

When Jack woke up in the morning, he was so surprised to see the tallest beanstalk  where his mom threw the handful of beans he brought home as payment of Bessy. Thanks for the photo Beng.

"OMG, the beans really are magic!" Jack remembered

what the old man who took Bessy told him about the beans. The beanstalk had a giant trunk and stretched up into the clouds.  Jack instinctively climbed  the beanstalk and came into a gateway that  led to a castle where a kindly giant lady lived. Mrs. G, the kindly giant lady felt so sorry  when she learned that Jack went to bed without dinner the night before. She  served Jack  some vegetable stew but as Jack ate, he suddenly felt something like  a strong earthquake. 

"WTF?" wondered Jack. 

"Stomp...stomp...stomp!" Heavy footsteps of what could only be that of an obese man echoed down the hallway. 

"Fee fi fo fum

I smell the blood of an Englishman

Be he alive or be he dead

I'll grind his bone to make me bread." The announcement came with the approaching heavy footsteps.

"Quick! Hide! That's Mr. G, my husband. He's coming home and he's not so fond of humans."  Mrs. G alerted Jack.

Jack hid in the pantry while he watched Mr. G counted  five gold  coins. When Mr. G left the room next to the pantry, Jack wasted no time stealing the five gold coins and thought of their house rhat need repairs for the coming winter. 

"This is all I need," thought Jack to himself. 

But then Jack thought that they no longer have Bessie and would probably starve without Bessie giving them milk. Jack hid some more and look around for anything else to steal. 

"Hello my beautiful hen, please lay your golden eggs for me!" commanded Mr G to a sorry-looking hen.

Jack drooled and thought of all the  cows he could buy with golden eggs as he watched Mr. G got laid with golden eggs.  Jack wanted to get laid, too, and wasted no time stealing the hen. Jack was really feeling greedier than adventurous so he looked for more treasures in the castle.

"Hello my beautiful harp, play, please?" Jack found Mr. G in his bedroom dozing off as the harp played itself a relaxing beautiful tune. 

"Wow, a magic harp! I can pretend to be a musician and perform at the palace. That harp can make me rich and famous." When  Mr. G started to snore and Jack wasted no time and stashing the harp into his loot. 

"Help me master,  a human is stealing me!" The magic harp screamed and Mr. G was roused from his sleep. 

"Stop, thief!" Mr. G chased Jack but Jack ran so fast he reached the beanstalk in no time. 

Mr. G was huffing and puffing so hard when he reached the beanstalk and Jack was already at the ground. Mr. G hesitated  to climb down to beanstalk since  he's always been afraid of heights. But he climbed down anyway. 

"Be careful my dear husband, humans can be dangerous!" Mrs. G shouted from the castle. 

"Whack! Whack! Whack!" Jack saw Mr. G coming down the  beanstalk. 

"Noooooo!" Jack chopped the beanstalk down and Mr. G came tumbling after. 

The legendary fava beans which  can grow over 6 feet upright  got its name from "Vicia faba", its scientific name. This flowering plant of the pea and bean family Fabacea  originated from  the Asia Minor or today's moden-day Turkey some 4,000 years before Jesus Christ was born. The legume has been popular in the Mediterranean region. Revered as blessed in the Sicilian tradition of some saint while disdained by Pythagoras because of the flatulence it causes, the broad bean has  also been  called English beans or Windsor beans. Favism is a condition especially in males of Mediterranean descent that is marked by the development of hemolytic anemia upon the consumption of fava beans or inhalation of the fava bean pollen. It is caused by a usually inherited deficiency of glucose-6-phosphate.

https://www.thefablecottage.com/english/jack-and-the-beanstalk

https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/guest-blog/fava-the-magic-bean/

https://www.catholicculture.org/culture/liturgicalyear/activities/view.cfm?id=1027

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1991-05-30-fo-3453-story.html%3f_amp=true

Busel iti Tingnga ti Calgaw

Agsabong ka dita nakaimulaam. 

No adda sabsabong, agoarak dagiti kulibabang

Ti kamatis, di agbunga ti mangga.

Ti agmula, agapit. 

growing garbanzos

Chick pea is pois chiche in French and  sounds like pwa-shish. In Deutsch, it is kichererbse and sounds like key-chair-herb-sea. Chickpea is more popularly known in its Spanish name garbanzo from “garau” which means seed and “antzu” which means dry. Kabuli chana is a Hindustani term for chick pea. 

Chickpeas are noted to be one of the earliest cultivated legume in the Middle East. Paired with tahini, an oily condiment made from toasted ground hulled sesame, the Arabs invented hummus, the popular chickpea  dish. Hummus, by the way, is also the Arabic term for chickpea. 

Chickpeas take about a week and a half to two weeks to germinate. It is best to sow the seeds without prior soaking. Store-bought chickpeas have about 25 percent germination rate. Chickpeas like other legumes are known to enrich the soil  when the bacteria that live in nodules of the plant’s roots transform substances  in the air into the organic form of nitrogen that plants need to grow. 

Rabbits and night critters love young garbanzos especially grown  alongside soybeans. I’m determined to propagate them  so I protect them from the local wildlife residents by planting them in self-created   screen planters or sheltering them in the balcony. 

Revisiting Kingdom of Saudi Arabia

Reading the memoirs of Dr. Qanta Ahmed brought me  back memories of my three  years of working in Saudi Arabia. In those three years, I came to understand Islam more: as a way of life, as politics and as the core of being a Muslim. Dr. Ahmed however introduced me to Wahhabism, the restrictive Islamic doctrine founded by Muhammad Ibn Abd al-Wahhab. As an Overseas Filipino Worker (OFW)  in Saudi Arabia, I have become familiar with how restrictive the society is for women. Women are not allowed to walk in the streets by themselves unaccompanied by their husbands. There   has to be  a "kadma" to accompany foreign women  workers for "souk" or shopping days, else  the "muttawa" had to go after them  with a stern warning that is  represented by a baton dangling on their  belts along with  "tasbeeh" or prayer beads. 

In a way, I see parallels  between Islam, in general, and Christian fundamentalists: the glorious Koran and  the holy Bible. Both religions would easily label freethinkers as infidels or pagans. Nevertheless, I would tell a female  bible thumping friend that she is lucky to have been born a Christian otherwise she would forever be subjugated by male relatives and later on by her husband had she been born a Muslim woman, especially in Saudi Arabia

T’s Montessori

I first heard about Maria Montessori from you. Since then, I have learned from the internet that Maria Montessori was born in Chiaravalle,  Italy in 1807. Maria Montessori was an Italian physician and a pioneer of early childhood education methodologies. You were one of the best, one  of the few young educators who was sent to Italy to study the advance Montessori teaching method, was that in Bergamo, sorella? This blog post is my reflection on your article “Losing My Montessori”. 

I just Googled “who is Maria Montessori” to refresh my knowledge about significance of a Montessori education and the search engine led to the website of Maria Montessori Schools in San Diego. 

“Maria Montessori School is the school you wish you’d attended. Warm staff, individualized lessons, low student-teacher ratio and hands on education are the hallmarks of our  private Montessori school.” 

I think of James being homeschooled on the premise presented in a book by Mary Hood, Ph D:  “Onto the Yellow School Bus And Through The Gates Of Hell”.

I have since relegated the book to the recycling bin after I took its picture. The fact that parents of homeschooled children call themselves teachers to save their children from meeting Satan in public schools is more than despicable, sorella.  Not everyone can be a teacher. Not even me who was pushed into attending a public college for teachers in Manila. My father may have taught in a provincial high  school but I only remember him working as a government employee with the country’s Civil Service Commission. I know that an aunt, my father's sister, was a teacher upon graduating from the same public college for teachers that I attended but her children had only seen her as postal worker in Seattle. How I wish I could proudly say I come from a family of teachers myself.  My only alibi for not becoming a teacher is that of Matthew’s excuse: “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.”

I don’t know why I am associating individualized lessons, low student-teacher ratio and hands-on education into the homeschooling trend but as a public school teacher with a Montessori training, would you be concerned about the quality of education homeschooled children are getting? Maybe...maybe...maybe