Finding Halloween

K and C are big fans and I'm not sure how they got hooked on it so intensely. They are a distant cry, it seems to me, from D, M and E who decided this year that they would sit Halloween out and just go out and buy their favourite candy.

K was one and a half and C was six months old when they first donned identical pumpkin costumes and we all hopped into a car to do trick or treating within the walls of the Corinthian Gardens subdivision - that's Manila-style.

We then moved to Singapore - and that year, they had two Halloween events. At the first K was a rabbit and C was a cat. At another, they were Woody and Buzz from Toy Story. The following year, Snow White and a Power Ranger. Then Superman and Wonder Woman. But it takes certain cunning to find Halloween in Singapore, a country which is decidedly un-American. You have to find it in pockets.

For years, we relied on a rather large American enclave in one of the posh multi-towered condominium complexes on the East Coast. Due to the fact that we had friends in the building, we lucked into that party bringing food to a potlock supper that would culminate a mad rush and tearing up and downstairs or via the elevator to the various apartment units that were taking part. I imagined it to be the kind of hi-rise halloween that you might have in cities like Manhattan.

And then we hit the motherload in Woodlands, the neighborhood that surrounds the Singapore American School. As it's close to the border of Malaysia, it's a major trek from our part of the city. But for so long as you have company, it's worth it once you get there.

This year, we dragged the M's from the kids school. Now here was a family as unconventionally American as we are. Mother M grew up in Montana and left the US for Paris as soon as she finished college. Her children are French American - though they haven't lived in the US for any extended period of time. After spending the last five years in South Africa, they were starved for Halloween. So we went together. My Halloween-hungry kids and hers to the strangely surreal Woodlands neighborhood that is practically a scene from ET. The roads were dense with trickortreaters of every age. In the spookily dressed houses, the candy givers were sometimes Filipino maids, sometimes Chinese owners but most of the time, they were American expats all dressed up in costume, complete with cocktail or wine glass in hand - offering up their measured amounts of candy, lest there be nothing left by 7pm.

We made good time and had a good run, filling our plastic pumpkins with sweets and then chowing down on KFC at the community centre. Needless to say the two witches and the two black goblins were happy Halloween campers.

Their mothers were happy too.

Stay in the room

Marital troubles. It appears we have come to that age where this is more the norm than the exception. I am hearing more and more stories of surprising break-ups, infidelities or just plain old vanilla disillusionment. I guess I understand. Nobody tells you how hard it is - and really, they should. That way, at the very least, you're prepared.

In a recent Oprah episode, Jennifer Aniston showed a clip of a short film she had directed for a series sponsored by Glamour based on real women's stories. In the scene, an elderly man sat in a hospital room,holding the hand of his wife who was in a coma. A nurse on duty marvelled at the longevity of this couple's marriage.

"45 years. We should all be so lucky."

The old man replied, "Luck had nothing to do with it."

"Excuse me?"

"Making a marriage last has nothing to do with luck. It has to do with just staying in the room."

It's a heartening thought. But it does take a lot of work - and sometimes, you need more than just sheer, dogged will.

For my part, I like to rely on two very simple things: sex and laughter - preferably in simultaneous doses.

Both are good focusing distractions that serve to remind you in small but powerful ways that life and the world are so much bigger than your problems.

Making a move

I can't believe I'm going through this again.

As we approach our eighth year in Singapore, we have come to another moving point. Blame it on the volatile and rather unique real estate market and the en bloc phenomenon. All things considered, I guess I can't really complain.

And yet the whole tedioous business of weeding and throwing things out, packing, sorting and arranging I find, not surprisingly, exceedingly stressful. Combine this with the even more detail-oriented fixing up and deciding on tile and paint and drapes and shelving, and I'd just as soon walk away from the whole situation.

Most women are not like me. Most women love it; they even thrive on it. They relish the choices - vacillate, ruminate, visualise and strategise. They consult, research and make detail-oriented decisions. Most women get a kick out of all of it.

As it turns out, here as well as in other situations, I am afraid I am once again simply not like most women.

Are you still the person you were in highschool?

Or perhaps a better way of putting it would be: how much of the person that you were in highschool remains in you today? I hazard a guess that the average adult still carries about 60 percent of her highschool self, personal baggage and all, whether or not she even realises it. And much of that dynamic continues to guide her present actions.

Which in itself wouldn't be so bad assuming that you liked yourself when you in highshool. I did. Did you?

One way to do it...

All the years T had of schooling were at the Ateneo, with the exception of his MBA. As for me, I never had formal instruction in catechism until I started high school at St. Theresa's college and of course, the Ateneo which requires its students to take 18 units of theology, apart from its hefty 16 units of philosophy - which includes Philosophy of Religion. But my children, K and C aren't likely to have that chance. Now that they've both received the sacraments of reconciliation and commmunion, we are opting to ease them out of the formal catechism classes. Instead, T and I are undertaking to homeschool them every Sunday. Between the two of us, we felt pretty confident we would be able to give them a solid religious foundation.

Today, we tackled the Sunday gospel - the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector at the same time we gave them a brief on structure of the Liturgy of the Word. The kids were attentive and had much to say. In just over 30 minutes, we did a lecture, discussion and quiz, and finished in time for dinner of tuna burgers.

It sure beats dragging them to Saturday class.

Reconnections

Once again, I must marvel at the miracle of the internet, if only for the wonderful way it brings me back in touch with people from many lives ago, as far back as the first grade. It seems fitting that all this reconnecting takes place just a few weeks after seeing New York-based C and her kids after not having seen each other for
six years.

First, despite the fact that FACEBOOK irritates me, I am grateful that my gradeschool classmate M was able to find me. She, who I had not seen since we all graduated in the 7th grade at good old Maria Montessori Cooperative School. M is/was/is one of those children who look ageless - at age 10. Back then, she already had a womanly face as well as a good measure of womanly wisdom. She had a great spray of black hair, every strand of it sprang out in finely coiled kinks and her eyebrows were already arched in perfect parentheticals.

Today, she has a blog to keep her folks back in the Philippines updated on her own little family - a husband and an adorable daughter - now living in Seattle. I was heartened to see her familiar face - seemingly ageless - and enchanted to see her baby girl who looks very much like her, and yet not.

Like me, she turns 40 at the end of the year. We have exchanged emails - summarising our life stories, which are still intensely and mutually fascinating, even in their very broadest strokes. And as I read between her lines, I still have a very strong sense of the person that she is - how she still has so much of the girl I used to know, the one who could braid her hair in a manner of seconds, sew like a goddess of domesticity and sing along to Air Supply, and look, even at age 13, disapproving and school-marmish at many of my childish antics. It is good that she found me. One of the little gifts this month has had to offer.

But that isn't even the end of my story. Just days away from our mini-online reunion, I was sitting at the PC and who should pop in to IM-chat with me but D. The story of D is also an amazing one. When I was in the first grade, D was in kindergarten and was "best friends" with my cousin J. Then she got moved up to first grade, and we became fast friends. She was very fair and sandy-haired due to Caucasian grandparents, and we were such good friends that I even invited her to spend my birthday with me and my family at my house. Interesting that I don't recall specific conversations, though I remember quite clearly the spirit and the authenticity of our friendship - how we always had so much to talk about, so much to share. Our friendship lasted just one year, as she soon moved to the US, and we lost touch completely.

In 2003, I found her through her architect cousin, and after the initial thrill of reconnection, we have maintained "chatting" contact. Anyway, D now lives in Sunnyvale - she is a scientist in Silicon Valley. She too has a husband and a daughter.

When she popped up, I told her about M, whom she also remembers. Perhaps they will get together soon. But D also wanted to tell me something. How she had been thinking about me recently. I asked her why.

She asked me if I recalled the movie Sky Riders. "Don't you remember that movie?" D asked me. I had to admit I was drawing a blank. She continued, "It's about these hang gliders, who save these kidnapped kids held for hostage in a cave?" The description stirred a very faint bell. I told her it sounded vaguely familiar.

"You told me to watch that movie."
"I did?"
"You told me it was a great movie and at the time, it was showing at Rizal Theatre, and you told me to ask my folks to watch it."
"Back in first grade?"
"Yes. It is a great movie. The hang-gliders make a daring rescue."

I waited, not quite sure what the point was.

"I saw that movie because you said it was great, and it got me interested in hang gliding. It's the reason I took hang-gliding lessons."

"You took hang-gliding lessons? You mean as an adult?"

"Yes.

"And have you rescued anybody?"

"No, but I did marry somebody. I married my instructor and we went flying in the Andes mountains, and that's why our daughter is named Andes."

I started to get it.

"Marrying someone is a kind of rescuing," I said.

"I just wanted to tell you that. And that I had thought of you. Because we just got a copy of Sky Riders"

I makes no real difference in the world to know this, not really. But I was glad D told me. It was yet another unexpected gift.

Good game

T invented it to make the traffic jam pass during the trip to the airport. Let's invent jokes, he said. One of us would give a topic and another of us would make a joke.

C: Cannibals
K: A little girl cannibal says, "Mom, can we ask my friend Janice for dinner?" Mom cannibal says, "Sure. Why don't you ask Jessica, too?" Little girl cannibal says, "We already had her for dinner."

[I thought this was pretty good and she made great time, too.]

K: Elephants
M: A wife elephant makes her husband breakfast in bed - a tray of peanuts. But she spills it all over the bed. The elephant husband says, "Tusk Tusk Tusk."

But it was T's joke that got C laughing all the way till immigration.

T: Santa Claus came out to find his sleigh hitched to 12 elephants. He is mystified. He turns to his elves who come out of the Clause house naked except for their shirts. Then he yells: Not elephants! Elf pants!!!

C had some good ones too, but we suspect they came from one of his joke books...

The facts of life

My children now know the facts of life. Funny. Late last year, K asked me and I told her everything. I told her woman and a man's body fit together like perfect pieces in a jigsaw puzzle, and in this way, the man is able to plant a seed in the woman's body. She did not seem at all mystified by this, so I thought that was that. Today, we're walking up the stairs and she mentions reading a chapter in a science book that we apparently own - on how babies are made. She tells me she read it and now everything is clear. I said, what do you mean, it wasn't clear when I told you about it? She said, "Yeah, the jigsaw puzzle. But you didn't say what parts. I mean, I was thinking it might be the arm pits." I had to laugh.

Of course, that got C asking, so T told him straight out. "The daddy and the mommy get together and hug really tight, and the daddy's penis goes into the mommy's vagina and the seed gets planted." Non-plussed, C did not blink an eye. Then he piped up, "How does the baby get out, then?" I answer. "Most of the time, the babies come out through the mommy's vagina, but sometimes, the doctor can cut open her stomach and the baby gets out that way."

And that's when they said, "Eeeeeeew." Go figure.

Sidetrip Home for Fun and FOOD

There were no plans for this trip, but things fell together quite nicely and we made a quick getaway home. Two separate nights in Manila bookended a three night, four-day trip to the beautiful Bohol - which is now officially my favourite place in the Philippines. The first night we consolidated families and had dinner at the always delicious CAFE BOLA - the brainchild of cuisinartiste Gaita Fores, the little bistro specialises in Pinoy comfort food. And a comfort it was, indeed.

I gave up my usual Ceaser salad with bagoong balayan and went for two items on the specials board: Lechon Kawali and Kang Kong salad - a sparkling medley of crispy roasted pork bellies atop freshly steamed morning glory, onions and tomatoes, lightly tossed with garlic-laced vinegar. But I didn't stop there. I also ordered something the chef christened Fiesta rice - a cake of fried garlic rice topped with equal rows of chopped salted egg, smoked tinapa, tomatoes and chicharon. No surprise, every bite was heavenly.

The next morning, we hopped aboard Cebu Pacific, which was surprisingly painless and wonderfully on time and flew to Bohol. The first day was easy - just a day spent on the beach - with both meals had at various restaurants on the Alona cove strip. We spent the afternoon snacking on the sweetest lanzones imaginable - all the while digging our toes in the stand and viewing star fish. Dinner was at a turo turo - where friends V and C pointed at various things we wanted grilled - pork barbecue, roaste pork, and squid - which we also had cooked in inky adobo style. And the veggie dish was fresh seaweed!

Second day was touristic - the blood compact first, and then the marvelous chocolate hills of Bohol. I told K and C that the hills were actually alien pods that will hatch in the future and the Philippines will be the first alien colony. From the hills, we drove to the Loboc River and had lunch on the riverboat - and after that, the tarsiers, which we fed with beetles. The final stop was at the marvellous Bee Farm - but rather than take the bee tour, we contented ourselves with buying foodstuff from the bee shop. Honeyed peanut sticks, honeyed chocolate covered polvoron (it gives polvoron a delightfully irresistible edge) and my find of the day: Tableya dark chocolate honey spread - like nutella - but oh so much more. I bought not just one but two jars!

Dinner was a birthday party for little V at the Amorita resort where we stayed - and here, the food was amazing...I went totally pinoy with chicken-pork adobo - stealing a bit of K's sinigang na baka. The rest of the dinner party had the array of pasta dishes - alio olio, bolognaise pesto and fettucini carbonara - all more than competent. And for dessert - chocolate cake!

The following day, we rose at the crack of dawn to take a banca out to open sea to chase the dolphins. On realising that we weren't going to be in for breakfast, I ordered packed sandwiches to take on the boat with us - scrambled egg and bacon on toast with a dollop of mayonaise. The dolphins were truly amazing - and from there we went to the marine sanctuary at Balincasag island and had the best snorkellig experience. We were on the precipice of a coral reef, after all. So the sights were spectacular - the aggressive clown fish, the anemone, exquisite Angel fish, and below, schools and schools of some kind of flounder.

For lunch, we went to the Genesis Diving Centre Pizza House for delectable thin crust pizzas topped with salami, olives and onions - but not before M and I had massages on the beach, upon landing from the banca trip. As the children built their sand cities, we chatted and while snacking again on lanzones, finally ending up at sunset in the Amorita's infinity pool.

The grand finale meal was at the fabulous Ananyana resort - just 20 minutes away - and it was a fine dining extravaganza - M had pork ribs, T had a wonderful chicken dish, C had grilled swordfish - I stuck to pinoy and had the grilled bangus with mango salad - every morsel of which was sweet and tasty. Dessert? Chocnut ice cream!

On that last morning, after a buffet breakfast that included fried danggit, longanisa, rice, tomatoes, salted egg and champorado - plus hot tableya chocolate, we had a final bathe in the calm pool like waters of Alona beach - and then it was time to leave.

But the eating was not over. We met up with S quite fittingly at Shakey's - and had garlic and cheese thin crust pizza as well as manager's choice and chicken and mojos and sarsi. Then met with C and her brood and had a long catch up over dinner at the inimitable Via Mare! Binagoongan Baboy, lumpiang sariwa, sinigang and bibingka - plus guinumis for dessert!

Back in Singapore, I am now in the midst of detoxing for all the apparent and not so apparent reasons...but hey, every bite was worth it. I come from a wonderful country.

The Accidental Book Buyer and Multi-tasking Reader

...Unfortunately, when you go out on errands, the bookstores beckon and are just too tempting for words. For words...while ostensibly shopping for a birthday gifts for my sisters, I picked up:

With Bold Knife And Fork by MFK Fisher, the late food critic for the New Yorker.

Wallflower at The Orgy by Nora Ephron who I just saw on Oprah talking about the perils and triumphs of ageing.

Terrorist by my all-time favourite John Updike. Usually, I favour his short fiction, but I started this novel and got past the third page...so I picked it up.

And I still haven't finished Michel Faber's The Apple which is both pleasing and dismaying. His stories of whories makes me feel that my very recent and yet unpublished "Recollections of an Older Bride" is somewhat redundant. Sigh. I am halfway through the Smiley book on the novel - Gigigaga, go for it - it's fun as fun but willl also just get you out there buying more books. And who has the room?

So much to read, who has time to write?

Back in the heat of it

The trick to managing the absence of structured hours and a formal office lies in rising early.

After three days of sleeping in till the shameful hour of nine am ( I don't count getting up at ten to 7 for five minutes to say goodbye to the kids before they go on the school bus), I managed to get up with the kids and even have breakfast with them. After which, I checked emails, prepared snail mail and headed out the door for exercise, errands and a hodge podge of meetings.

Managed to take two yoga classes. One was a restorative yoga class which was a bit too gentle for my taste, foolishly causing me to feel myself equal to a HOT 1 class - that's 90 minutes in a heated room! Thanks to a new instructor, I was able to modify and adjust and as Burt Bacharach would say, make it easy on myself. I wouldn't have been able to that with H or J. It felt good, for sure, but it was rather dismaying to see that I've lost quite a bit of my yogabilities.

That's what stopping for eight months will do, I guess.

Big discoveries and small triumphs

The big one for the week is the new Jacob Ballas Children's Park at the Botanic Gardens. What a great play place for kids aged 0-13. We went for the second time today. I fetched the kids from school, right in time to see C in prime soccer play. I also had the chance to touch base with the mom of K's best friend at school, which was really nice. We packed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches - before you misunderstand, I mean two separate sandwiches, one peanut butter for C who eschews the classic combination and jelly solo for K who, believe it or not, does not like peanut butter, not even in chocolate. We went into the maze, into the sandbox playground and up into the tree house. We also did the bridge and the life-size nature puzzles. I must admit the kids are a little older for this park which I would say is perfect for ages 3-6, but they love it just the same. The other nice thing is right across the way is our track - so from there, we can quite easily go for a run or shoot some hoops for so long as we remember to bring the ball.

The small triumph is that my advice to C paid off. He's been going through tough times at school, much of it, it seems to me, is due to his intense desire to be liked by his peers. The result is he tries too hard and likely puts them off. It is something I understand and recognise all too well; it doesn't take much for me to flash myself back to third grade which was a constant tug-of-war of gal pals. I told him to change his tack - to withdraw and try out the people he doesn't know that well or even people he doesn't think he likes. I suggested he try going on his own more so he will discover that he enjoys his own company. I told him that when others see that he enjoys his own company, they will start seeking it - because he is fun to be with.

"You think that will work?" He asked, doubtful.

I told him to try it and see. And what do you know...it did. When he came over to me this afternoon, there was a little fellow was tagging after him who piped up to me, "C played a really good game! Good game C! I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" My son said, "See you tomorrow," and then grinned at me.

I am letting myself feel pretty good about that.