Garlic Necklaces There were a few moments in my life that I’ve witnessed a hysteria of some sort. They seem to be the kind of memory that etches into that part of the brain similar to when someone carves their name or a statement on a wooden picnic table. The next person who chose to … Continue reading Garlic Necklaces
My sisters and I were only children when we first learned about the baby boy in church. I was about 7-years old, Jackie was about 5 years old, and the twins were only toddlers. We were living in Cavite City, Philippines at the time. The baby boy in church wore elaborate and sequined gowns, … Continue reading Santo Nino, and Heaven Points.
Here's an undeniable truth: I launched the Echo Muse because I wanted to continue writing long after all the research and creative writing papers for the degrees were done. When reflecting back, I realized that even as a child, I was also writing. And, as I went on my academic journey--I felt a bit … Continue reading Gratitude at 120.
I spent one weekend binge watching Chef David Chang of Momofuku and food writer Peter Meehan's Netflix documentary "Ugly Delicious," and I am not ashamed. I once binge watched an entire series of Netflix's "Chef Table" and was so inspired by the many stories--and the photos of food porn--behind what makes a chef so passionate … Continue reading When It Is Much More Than Just “Ugly Delicious”
Relationships with sisters are never easy. The eldest of five children, I have three sisters and one little brother. As a child, before my brother was born, I used to have dreams where I'm counting my sisters to make sure that they were all present. In my dream, I'd line them up and count … Continue reading Sisters.
I had been quite engrossed in my daily work at the office these days. This is the season in academia where we are ending the year with events, finals, and commencement. Where I work is no exception. My day job consists of juggling many balls in the air, and being cognizant of avoiding any … Continue reading A Grandfather’s Love.
Folks, this is so blasphemous to admit, but I feel that I must (soo dramatic, I know): I have had a frenemy relationship with adobo all my life. When I was growing up, I couldn't stand looking at it. I remember my aunts cooking them in the kitchen and I'd watch the pork drenched in … Continue reading Ma Vie En Rose: I hate you, Adobo. I love you, Adobo.
I remember that she came to visit our home. I've never seen anyone like her before. She was same height as I was, but the similarities ended there. She did not look like or any of my friends. We all had straight black hair (they teased me sometimes because mine was lighter than black--the … Continue reading Banana
I was born in a small town outside of Manila City, Philippines. The first few years of my life was spent in a town called Cavite. The residents of this town all knew each other, and they knew each of the family’s history. The house I grew up in belonged to my paternal grandparents. When … Continue reading The Nobodies, The Nothings, and The No Ones.