Those were the days

By Netnet Camomot .

THE only way Pinas can vaccinate 70 to 80 percent of its 110.59-million population ASAP is to invent its own Covid-19 vaccines.

Since the Pinoy shines while working abroad where his talents are more appreciated and well-funded, that’s where he will invent vaccines which will then be distributed to Pinas many months later.

And the Pinoy is not alone in having that American dream or whatever country he hopes to migrate to. People tend to believe that the grass is greener on the other of the fence, and usually realize that, yup, it’s greener.

I’ve been complaining about Pinas’s government since the early ‘80s, and nothing has changed in that department—I mean, in my complaining department, that is. It seems like whatever the Pinoy learned about or from the government in the ‘70s and the ‘80s has remained the same or even worsened after the 1986 People Power.

In the ‘90s, whenever I ranted about the graft and corruption in Pinas, a friend would always say, Then leave. And he did. But I stayed, and sometimes this makes me feel I have no right to complain anymore because I chose to stay.

I’m now looking at my neighbor’s house while wondering if the street looks better if viewed from there.

A tree sprouted out of nowhere outside of our fence and started growing fast during the pandemic. It now covers whatever view we used to enjoy. It also serves as my Realization 101: God has other plans. He covered the view, and I couldn’t see what I’m not supposed to see for now. Just one of the mysterious ways that God boosts our sanity.

So, I wait. Waiting is a virtue. Tolerance is a virtue. Patience is a virtue. Perhaps it’s not meant to happen right now.

On Tuesday night I prayed right before sleeping: Please guide me the moment I wake up tomorrow. Because sometimes I do wish for miracles but they don’t happen overnight, they’re the result of several steps taken and the conscience of the other party telling them to step up already.

To relax, I read and write, especially after business calls that could make me stare at trees while speaking with a voice whose volume says, Take it or leave it. And I could be persistent. Won’t stop until I’ve achieved goals.

But the pandemic has slowed me down I think. Pausing to ponder and wonder. Gut instinct and all that jazz.

There’s time to think now while staying home. And once there’s thinking, there’s also noticing, observing, discerning. That’s how I noticed the tree outside of the fence. Haha. And two more trees but inside the fence—papaya, and what our househelp said is guyabano but she could be wrong.

The only trees I can recognize are the obvious ones like papaya, banana, and coconut. I wouldn’t know if a mango tree is a mango tree until mangos are hanging on for dear life to its branches.

I grew up in the province, so why am I not familiar with trees? Because I was busy watching cows, pigs, goats, chicken, fish, lobsters, crabs, shrimps, shells, even large lizards and birds morph into food—beefsteak, bulalo, lechon, humba, adobo, ham, tinola, kaldereta, mechado, menudo, kinilaw, bulad, kasahos, ginamos, etc. As for the snakes that were caught in the backyard, I didn’t want to know if they ended up as food, too.

I remember the first time I had Chippy. Mama brought some from the city, and I was addicted since then. Well, until I learned that salt is bad, forcing me to reluctantly say the most hesitant goodbye to Chippy, cheese, bulad, bagoong, and ginamos years ago, which was not exactly an absolute goodbye—more like, Till we meet again. ASAP.

Transferring to the city made me conscious of my Bisaya accent. And also of the groceries at the grocery store or supermarket—no more live cows, pigs, chicken, etc. They were now frozen beef, pork, and drumstick. My favorite snacks were the Chippy, siopao, sandwiches, peanuts, and Coke at the school canteen. Treats were the burgers at Tivoli, and the fresh veggie lumpia at Pots & Pans.

Those were the days when a pandemic was unthinkable, we had never heard of social distancing, and only welders, astronauts, and scientists wore face shields. Oh, well.