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Bananaque and Chivalrarity

I love the sound of typing on a keyboard. But for some reason, if I just pretend to be typing it doesn’t seem to have the same therapeutic effect on me. I’m guessing it’s the pauses – or the lack of the sound of a backspace when deleting a word or the whole sentence. It’s different. I’m weird, and I know that already. But writing this is not about keyboard-sound-therapy (KST if you must). This is about something so rare I happened to witness happening all in one day:

So the other day on the way to work, I came across a guy in business clothes who went off his way to help a little old lady (in her late 60’s I’m guessing) carry a heavy bunch of banana for banana Q’s (also guessing, but it looks like it). I didn’t see the whole thing happen but I just know that this guy asked the old lady where she’s heading, maybe seeing that the bulky bunch of bananas were weighing her down.

This is remarkable for me because, one, everyone knows this is a rare happenstance. Two, this guy doesn’t seem to care if his business clothes get stained from banana sap (not entirely a big deal, but this could potentially sabotage his looks if he happen to have a presentation that day, imagine what banana sap can do. Hehe!) Three, this guy doesn’t seem to care if he’s about to be late for work. I’m certain telling your boss that you helped an old lady carry a bunch of banana is like telling a teacher your dog ate your homework!

All that happening in just about 15 seconds. Remarkable. I smiled to the guy when he saw me then I quickly walked away and never looked back upon realizing how awkward that was. Haha! (Okay just in case you missed it, I smiled to the guy to applaud him.)

I began to think if I could have done the same had I seen that old lady first. I told myself I would have, but quick flashes in my mind about so many opportunities to help others have passed without me doing anything. Helping others must not be selective. Helping is a character not a verb.

I thought that banana guy was enough chivalry for the day. On the way home, while on a bus, one guy gave his seat to an elderly woman. Clap clap clap! I told myself, I’ll blog about this! Chivalry ain’t dead!

After getting off the bus and while walking home, another guy in front of me was eating a sandwich. Unexpectedly, he turned to a corner and I thought the guy was about to take a leak. Instead he pulled out a tiny piece of candy (maybe gum?) wrapper and threw it in a trash bag in front of a house. Clap clap clap! This is a huge score for the gentlemen, yes?

My only question is: Did the banana guy get a free banana Q?


Pork and Love

I lost count. But I feel like I have been “biologically purged” from pork for about two months now.

Unless it was masked as otherwise, I haven’t eaten, not nearly even touched,┬ápork since that day my system refused to take it in. Of the many porkies I love, I would never imagine living without bacon, chicharon, ma ling luncheon meat, and lechong kawali! Now I detest them. I’m not even enticed by the smell of seared bacon anymore. I don’t turn my head when I hear the crackling sound of crunchy chicharon. This happened not by choice. I loved pork. Lechong kawali was my favorite.

I don’t really know (too lazy to google), if there’s a health benefit I can get from this. I don’t feel my body getting lighter. I’m not gaining muscles. The only thing that changed was that now I get embarrassed when friends or colleague serve pork, and I refuse to eat it. I get asked if I changed religion. But most of the time I get teased of being on a diet. No. This is not about religion and diet. Yes, this is something I can’t explain.

I still eat beef. But if my system will start to not take it, I think I can still survive. There’s still chicken. And fish. And paper. And vegetables. (Haha! Yes that’s the order).

I don’t miss pork. But I miss love. (Okay, dear reader, I was waiting for you to vomit so there’s your cue.)

Sometimes I wish that love was like my pork appetite. It just shuts down on its own. But I’m thankful that it’s not. Because I would never have the idea how to bring my appetite back, nor would I’d find a good reason to do so.

kitkat and taho

If it’s a choice between Taho and Kitkat I’d be torn

There’s something about taho and kitkat that satisfies not only hunger and taste, but also the emotional need for comfort foods.

I have always been fascinated by taho in those aluminum drums. How it’s shaped so solidly (or is it considered liquid?) inside. The mere resemblance of that taho to a humongous jello already offers me some sort of lulling in a duyan. The arnibal is not as complicated to make. The sago may be a little more time consuming to prepare. But all these three ingredients mixed together (but only slightly so you won’t confuse it for vomit, hehe) creates a snack and dessert in one.

Kitkat. This for me is a 2011 breakthrough. No there’s nothing new about its taste, shape and even packaging. I just sort of “bumped” into it early this year. Since then I made it a habit to pick one everyday. Or at least 4 times a week. I guess it’s one of a few things that I never outgrew as a kid. Back then, chocolates came in many forms and from many places. Even locally, there was this brickhard chocolate bar the size of 2 gold bars that my mom brought from Batangas. It was dark chocolate that was never meant to be eaten on its own. But I did. With a knife! Now Kitkat has been on my morning diet since this year.

So if by some form of economic superpower or by food monopoly we are left to choose one among only 2 choices, Taho and Kitkat, it’ll be one complicated life.