Thursday, July 27, 2006

Pilipinas Pasaporte

It's crazy how the brain stores things in tiny little boxes, and the faintest sound, aroma or tune can throw open the cover and let you re-live... "RE - LIVE". Those are precious moments when we realise how our brain never forgets.

For me, it all began at the immigration queue in Manila. The minute I saw "Pilipinas Pasaporte" and realised how many people indiscriminately pronounced words that had an "F" with a "P" sound (a bit like some Asians do with "R" and the "L"); hearing "M'am" and "Sir" pronounced Pinoy style; best of all: tasting my first bowl of steamed Philipino rice or pancit (noodles). This is when my head became flooded with very fond memories of un revisited since the age of 8. I grew up accompanied by Jenny, my beloved Pinoy nanny, who in her 20's went to live with my family in Spain. Jenny spoke no Spanish at first so I practised my English at home with her. She made pancit for us, and it quickly became a house favourite. And she used to take me to visit her friends some days, who would cook "adobo", "callos", "sinigang" and Pinoy steamed rice, that they brought from home. I suppose I had forgotten the Pinoy influence in my life until 22 years later I set foot in Philippines. I wish I knew what became of Jenny. She must be in her 50's by now, although I will always remember her in her 20's. The mind never forgets, it just stores ...for a while.