A few years ago I wrote a post about how a friend and I set up a Filipino table for International Day at my kids' school. We thought we were fairly bombastic until. Until. Until the Tongan families arrived sporting traditional dress and carrying a ROAST PIG THE SIZE OF MY HOUSE. Do you remember how I cursed the gods that day? Do you also remember how the event happened to coincide with an Achiote Press reading and that Oscar had no sympathy for my plight, but rather laughed at my comeuppance?
Fast forward to 2009. This was to be my Year Of Redemption. This was to be the year I could hold my head up high and pass by the Tongans while tossing out a casual, "Hey, nice table you got there."
But it is not meant to be.
Why? Because apparently there are a bunch of upstart Filipino parents in the Kindergarten class who are building a bahay kubo (it sounds like I'm joking, doesn't it? I assure you I am not) and who do not require the help—in any way, shape, or form—of your Nesting Ground Mistress.
Sure. Fine. That's fine. I'll just go ahead and create a table representing the Land of Nesting Ground. I will serve chunks of bitter melon, clusters of sour grapes, and glasses of fine whine. My national flag will bear the words, "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave." I'll see you there!
9 comments:
I'll help you whip up a musical number... something that would celebrate our Filipino heritage as well as the Classic American Musicals of the past 2 decades. We'll call it, "Pantom ub de Oprah" or "Westlake Story" or "Sinigang in the Rain" or "Porty Second Eshtrit", or "Joosip and the Amazing Technicolor Lumpia" or "Thoroughly Modern Mila" or "Yaya Poppins" or "The Sound of Tsimis" or
I could go on forever, y'know.
km
hoo boy! this takes keeping up with the Jones' to a whole 'nother level.
ps. can you ask those parents to come over and build a bahay kubo in my basement? kthxbye.
HAHAHAHA! "Sinigang" as a verb: I sinigang, you sinigang, we sinigang... Yes, Mickey, get right on this; the event takes place on Sunday. Also, please pull together my wardrobe and makeup. Tenks.
Oh, cornshake-a-la. If the upstart parents ever find me worthy enough to speak to, I will discuss your basement with them. kpromisebye.
I will visit the"Land of Nesting Ground." My one and only request: Tall glass of fine Whine.
You are too funny! I, too, have felt "mother envy" -- most memorably when my son was in 8th grade, and the assignment was to bring a home-made bed to school (What was the point of such an assignment? Who knows?)
I prided myself on leaving my son to exercise his imagination, and his "bed" was a little matchbox with wheels from some toy car.
I knew we were in trouble barely a minute after we landed in the parking lot, when I saw huge beds with PULLEYS being trundled across the lot by parents, these beds were so big they needed to be carried in WHEELBARROWS. LOL LOL LOL
Well, Marianne, I'm sure your son received a better grade. PULLEYS?!
P.S. Markesha! Um, my "Land of Nesting Ground" table will also be the...water table. I'm heading to Smart & Final now!
I totally remember that roasted pig. It was the first time I outed myself as a secret reader of the Nesting Ground.
I remember freaking and rolling in laughter at the idea of serving a roasted pig at school...we would serve cupcake cookie for every elementary school event.
But, a bahay kubo? WTF! At least the Tongan's can get the pig through the door.
If were at International Day I would visit the Land of Nesting Ground first, then head to the bahay kubo where I could relax and savor the flavors of the bitter and sour fruits washed down with a glass of fine Nesting Ground wine; all served up by the fine mistress of the--The Nesting Ground. Then I would be snarky and say things like--this bahay kubo would not be as fabulous if not for the snacks served by your fellow Filipino.
And next International Day... no one will remember the Tongans and there roasted pig, but rather the Filipino Families.
I say fill the table with shoes and say it's Imelda Marcos land.
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