Until Next Time

I'm writing this last post from Singapore's airport. My flight left Manila this afternoon at 4:50 and I'm to arrive back home in Chicago tomorrow afternoon. It's unbelievable to think how fast the time went during my stay in the Philippines; it seems like just yesterday my family was dropping me off to start this adventure. And you know what? I have a feeling that I'll be repeating variations of that statement millions of times to come.

I've learned plenty of things this past year off of school. As a matter of fact, I would argue that travelling is the best way to learn. Not only does it push you out of your comfort zone and force you to become independent, but it does extraordinary things to your perspective of the world and of life in general. Plus, it serves as a great reminder of how fast time flies. However, I must warn you: travelling is addictive.

I'd like to thank my family and the amazing people I met in the Philippines for making my stay so memorable. I cherish the time I spent in the Philippines and yes, yes OF COURSE I'll be coming back. I can't wait to return & when I do...maybe, just maybe, I won't whine about the heat. As much.

And for those of you who followed (or even just casually read) my posts, thank you & I appreciate it haha.

So Philippines, this goodbye is only temporary. Just the end of one adventure and the beginning of another...




Antigua here I come!

Final Days in Manila

I got back to Manila a week ago Saturday and spent pretty much the whole day just hanging out at home. The following day I went shopping to get pasalubong for my family back in the States and spent the rest of the week starting to pack my things up (...and trying to run off all the calories I ate in Dagupan). I did have the opportunity to go to Tita Ba's though and was thankful that Lola Fanny was more than willing to teach me to cook my favorite Filipino dishes: pancit and fried lumpia. (Pancit is a clear-noodle dish and lumpia is eggroll.)

Before coming to the Philippines I had this silly fear that by the time my siblings, cousins & I become the eldest in our family, we will have lost touch with the Filipino culture. I always knew I'd want to be called "Lola" when I'm a grandparent, but wasn't sure what I could do to retain the other pieces I didn't want to lose. I want to know that the future generations of my family will be familiar with Filipino food and hope that when they hear a second language at family parties, they are just as unfazed by it as I am now...

Well people, I can happily announce to the everyone that that fear is now obliterated! Having met and spent so much time with my family here in the Philippines, a serious connection has been made. Not only will we stay in touch once I leave, but returning to see them is something I'm already looking forward to doing. And even though cooking is definitely not a hobby of mine, I decided to make sure these recipes lived on.

Lola Fanny was flattered that I asked her to show me her ways in the kitchen (she's a great cook) so she welcomed me over so I could learn. By the end of the day, I realized that the recipes for pancit and fried lumpia are not as mysterious and difficult as I once thought. (As for my fear of my future children growing up in a monolinguistic household, I've decided that won't be a problem. Whatever language(s) they speak besides English will depend on where we're living in the world...!)

Lola Fanny wrapping the lumpia. The pancit
is in the strainer right next to her.

Wrapping the lumpia was harder than it looked. After
comparing mine to hers, I asked her to show me
the technique a few more times before continuing haha.

Rolled & ready to fry!

Yesterday my family here in Manila got together for my despedida, or going away party. They cooked my favorite foods and we were all able to hangout together one last time before my flight. Many hugs and kisses were shared and we promised to stay in touch. I was asked countless times when I'd be coming back and was delighted to hear that some of them have plans to come visit in the near future.

After taking a series of nice pictures, suddenly everyone was shouting,
"Wocky! Wocky!" I looked around because I had no idea what was
happening and had to lean over to ask my aunt to clue me in. She says,
"Wocky, you know. Like crazy or silly or something." I had to
laugh at that. "Wacky," I said to myself. "Got it."

Wrapping Up Dagupan

I ended up being in Dagupan longer than expected...which, I suppose, was to be expected. I had originally started packing for a one week stay but decided to throw in some extra clothes just in case I ended up there for a week and a half. Well, my week and a half was about to end when Uncle Argie (Tita Karen's husband) invited me to accompany them on their family trip to Sagada. (See post below about my Sagada experience.) I didn't have to think about it before quickly replying, "Yes please!" So on that note, my week and a half magically turned into a solid two. Upon returning to Dagupan, I realized I wasn't ready to leave town without spending some more time with the rest of the family. So if you've caught on to how this pattern goes, I extended my two week stay by an extra half week. But by this point I still wasn't really ready to head back to Manila- not because I didn't want to see my family there(!) but rather I felt that these past two weeks still weren't enough with the Gutierrez side of my family- however, my time in the Philippines as a whole was beginning to dwindle at that point so it was time to start wrapping things up everywhere.

Once I returned from Sagada I was able to hang out with Uncle Ricky's family, eat way too much with Uncle Ramon's family, and spend time with my younger cousins in Tita Karen's family.

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Here's a recap of how things went these past few weeks:

I spent my first week and a half in Dagupan at Uncle Butch's house, which is located on the same property as the family bowling alley. Uncle Ricky, Tita Yasmine & their two young kids live in a house that's attached to the bowling alley. So, since they're neighbors, everyday was spent with them as well. Every morning around 8:00, Uncle Ricky would come knock on my bedroom door for breakfast. We'd eat as a family and hang out, sometimes leaving the house to go run errands, before eating lunch together too. I'd take a nap, more hanging out would happen and before you knew it, dinner time had arrived. (Yes, food is such a big deal here that our days revolve around it.) This would also be the time that Uncle Butch arrived home from work and usually with something to share. So every night I felt like a little kid again at dinner, waiting for the front door to open so I could see what surprise Uncle Butch was bringing home for me. Would it be a fresh papaya? The delicious native coconut dumpling dessert, bichu-bichu? Or my favorite rice cake, puto?

The second week was spent at Tita Karen's house. She has four kids (one 15-year old, a 13-year old, a 10 year-old, and a 3-year old) so the house was full and fun. They were all so nice it was unbelievable. One time, when Isa (the 15-year old) heard me mention to her younger brother that I didn't eat dinner (I thought my mid-day snack would be enough but realized I was wrong around 10 PM) she came out of nowhere half an hour later and said, "Here Rachael. I made this for you because I heard you didn't eat tonight." ... I live with a 15-year old back home so naturally I thought she was kidding. I'm pretty sure the first thing I replied with was, "What?" (Of course I genuinely thanked her after my initial surprise.) But anyways, when I wasn't spending my time eating specially-prepared sandwiches, I was just hanging out with everyone. Watching TV, movies, or just talking. Something about being surrounded by kids and their parents made me miss my family a little bit more than I had been...(And to my 10-year old cousin Julio: Don't worry, I promise I'll be back!)

My time spent with Uncle Ramon's family revolved around eating. The first time I saw them was at our Good Friday feast when the whole family ate fish all day. The second was when they invited me over for a delicious Indian & Korean dinner that included three rounds of dessert. (Although there were only 6 of us eating, they cooked enough to feed a small army.) And the third and final time was for my last night in Dagupan when they invited me out to a local buffet serving Mongolian food. This was when Cyra & Mark, Uncle Ramon's kids, started teaching me eating strategies so I could fit more food into my stomach. Say what?? Tip for future visitors: Wait until you're done dieting to come to the Philippines. I assure you that willpower is not enough to keep you from eating.

My trip to Dagupan was so great and I'm so thankful for how open-armed and loving my family was to me while I was there. I can't wait to come back but am even more hopeful that they are able to come visit us back in the States!

Hiking Through the Rice Terraces

Monday started early as everyone began prepping for the day's adventures. We had plans to go hiking and walk through the rice terraces of Sagada before ending up at a waterfall for some swim time. So yes, I was eager to get a move on. By the time everyone finished showering ("Showering in the morning before you go hiking?" you ask. Yes, I too found it strange. Especially when you consider that everyone showered the night before. Those are Filipinos, for ya. Shower shower shower. It may be their favorite thing to do...after eating of course. But I digress...), getting ready, and eating, we ended up leaving around 9 9:30 and arrived at the hiking site not too long after.

I should start this by saying that I have never hiked before today. Once everyone got out of their cars, I noticed for the first time what my fellow hikers were wearing. I looked around and saw one mom with a cute shirt tucked into her equally nice & belted bermuda shorts; little girls wearing linen shorts, button-up shirts & other outfits I might attend church in; sweaters; a jacket; long sleeved shirts; flip flops...and large sun umbrellas. "What the..." I thought as a looked down at my tshirt, running leggings, and gym shoes as I tightened the ponytail I had just sloppily tied up. A moment of self-consciousness passed over me but was forgotten as quickly as it came. It appeared as if I wasn't the only one new to this hiking business.

 The guide brought me back to the real world and my attention shifted to the pile of walking sticks behind us. "Oh come on," I said to myself. "Yes, I'm out of shape. But there is no way I'm out of shape enough to need a stupid walking stick." Reluctantly I made my way over to the pile and grabbed one. Lesson of the day: When the guide suggests you do something, just do it. Chances are he/she knows what he/she is talking about. By the time I had finished the route, my heart was in my throat, an invisible 50 lb weight was pressing against my chest, and I was panting like you wouldn't believe. I was practically crawling up the last flight of stairs. Needless to say, that stupid walking stick became my best friend along the way.

Our trek brought us down very steep hills and over lots of unstable ground before we reached the fields and fields of rice...which to me was a waaay better prize than the waterfall at the end.

I spent so much time in the beginning of the hike looking down & watching where I stepped in order to avoid tumbling down the hill...so when I looked up, I lost my breath. Unfortunately- as it always seems- pictures do no justice to the absolute beauty I witnessed. Everything for that moment was perfect. The heat of the sun, the gentle breezes, the nearly blinding green of the rice plants, the perfectly carved terraces, the serenity of the surrounding mountains...I can't even begin to describe it. I lost myself inside my head for a moment as I started thinking about where I'd want to live when I "grow up" because in that moment it became obvious to me that an absence of such a wonderfully halting scene just wouldn't do. My mind started wandering potential locations. Scotland? Ireland? Japan? The Himalayas? I love trees though, hmm...SQUISH! Cut daydreams and cue classic Rachael moment. I heard giggling behind me and looked down to see my entire foot swallowed by mud. I had just stepped into the actual field part of the rice plants. Right. Great. Of course that just happened. I decided then that I would split my time between daydreaming & minding my ever-so-clumsy body.

After about an hour we reached the waterfall, which ended up being on the sorry end of cascades. It was still  pretty though but since I'm not a huge fan of swimming I opted for gazing...and quickly returned back to my daydreams. People swam for a while and a few of the local kids stripped down to their underwear (boys and girls) before racing to the water and jumping off of rocks.

The way back up was, in my opinion, even grander than the way down. And since I didn't have to worry about slipping I was able to lose myself in my head again. There was also the added bonus of moving slower so there was no rush to take in my surroundings. All in all a good day and I'm happy to announce that I will opt for hiking more often!

To Sagada We Go

Early Sunday morning I left with Tita Karen, her husband, and four kids to the mountain province of Sagada. We met their family friends at one of their homes for breakfast and hit the road by 7 AM. It's possible to reach Sagada from Dagupan in maybe 4 or 5 hours but with all of our stops (bathroom breaks, lunch time, and picture moments) we ended up travelling for a total of 11 hours. Nuts, I know. The main reason for our extreme extension of time though was the route we chose to take. The families had opted for the longer, scenic route. And while normally taking the scenic route wouldn't make up for all of those extra hours, this time it did.

We took the extremely narrow, twisty, not-so-developed roads up to Banaue (thank GOD for Dramamine) and got out of the car twice for pictures at the designated picture stops. The reason? Banaue (pronounced "Bahn-ah-way") is known for its rice terraces. As a matter of fact, the background for this blog is a picture of them.

By the time we made it to the large house we were renting (there are around 30 of us) everyone was exhausted and ready to settle in. But, alas! There was not enough space! What a surprise for a group of tired travellers. So after half an hour or so we were finally able to organize sleeping arrangements to ensure that everyone had a bed. It was dinner time by the time we finished and everyone enjoyed eating at the long picnic table outside together.

Good Friday

What a feast we had! Apparently the Good Friday seafood cookout is tradition here for my family in Dagupan. Every year, the whole family comes over for fresh seafood and Tita Yasmine's (Uncle Ricky's wife) homemade ice cream.

By the time I woke up, maybe around 830 or 9 AM, the food was almost finished being prepared. Seafood ranging from shrimp to huge fish that I don't know the names of were piled high in bowls, tuna spaghetti was underway, and a dozen mangoes were already sliced and ready to eat. I was immediately hungry.

We hung out for a little bit and got ready before the rest of the family arrived between 11:30 & 12. A long table right outside the door (and under the shade of course) was set up and a few fans were plugged in. It didn't take long before everyone started digging in and getting full. And just like at family parties at home, many laughs were shared. I think that pictures will do a better job at conveying this happy gathering than any description ever could...so I will wait for Auntie Ceclie, Uncle Ramon's wife, to share the pictures she took on her fancy camera & will upload them here once I have them. So, again, check back soon!

Prepping for Good Friday

I should start this by saying that Dagupan is a fishing town. The roads are bordered by fish ponds, kids start fishing at young ages (my Uncle Ricky says his earliest memories of fishing alone were at 5 or 6 years old), everyone eats fish, and the fish you eat is always fresh.

So, in preparation for Good Friday, I went with Uncle Ricky & their family's maid to the fish market at 930 PM on Thursday. We walked in between buildings that lined the main road and made our way through the hall of dried fish, which I can assure you smells as bad as you'd think. Once we had exited the smelly tent-like structure, we walked into a sort of back corner alleyway. There were stalls and stalls of fish lying in buckets of ice and people sitting around them hoping to sell their catch.

Uncle Ricky asked around for the fish he was looking for but unfortunately, we were early. The first load would come in around 11 PM, leaving us time to kill. So we left the buckets of fish, walked back through the tent of dried fish, and crossed the street to get to the other market.

This time we walked through a clothing market that looked nearly identical to the one I went to in Quezon City with Uncle Ricky's sister, Mary Ann. After passing nearly 15 tents playing loud music and weaving our way through the crowds of people (I was surprised at how busy this bazaar was at this time of night) we reached our destination: the vegetable tents.

One of the several vegetable tents.

Loomy, Uncle Ricky's maid, walked over to the fresh crops and started inspecting. She was handed a silver bowl to place her vegetables in by the girl who was manning the tent with her sister. The two looked to be around 12-15 years old. Once Loomy made her selection, she handed the silver bowl back to one of the young girls who placed it on a scale before bagging the veggies up and naming a price. We left with three bags of fresh vegetables and made our way back to the car.

Uncle Ricky drove us back home and I got ready for bed. It mustve been around 45 minutes to an hour later that he knocked on my window and asked if I wanted to go back to the fish market to pick up what we couldn't before. By that point though, I was drifting in and out of sleep so I wished him luck before shutting down for the night.