No. 2: The One with the best Pinakbet

I grew up masticating chunks of animal flesh. My poor mother tried to get me into the whole vegetable healthy eating thing, but I turn into a savage if forced to eat anything bitter, suspiciously leafy or green. I got my way and made it til 24 years old without having imbibed anything more substantial than kangkong (water spinach) and the occasional pumpkin. But life has a way of draining your spoiled ways out of you. It's called the Real World. And in the real world, you have no choice but to chew the cud or starve.

This memory is one of the earliest in my life as a development worker. In an earlier post, I have relayed already that my job involved a lot of rural travel, and by rural, I mean places that Waze has never heard of yet. This took place, coincidentally, in Burgos, Ilocos Sur.  (Yes, we're related. But that's another story for another time). Burgos is a fourth-class municipality, which features a mountainous topography. For this particular project, we were building red school houses and we were looking for possible build sites. My job was to conduct an ocular and verify data from  the principal, teachers and community leaders. Entering Burgos was an event for me.

First, obviously, I get some twisted pleasure knowing the whole place bears my surname even if I do not own land to fit a teapot in the area. Second, the welcome marker is only a few meters ahead of an old town cemetery, which is slightly creepy at best. Third, it was the first time I saw a vehicle (ours!) forced to cross a river (shallow, yes, but about 4-5 feet wide) to get to the other side. What I didn't expect though was the school we were going to cannot be reached by car. The van had to park at the base of the mountain, and I have to trek 2 kilometers upwards to get to the actual school. I guess that forced mountain climbing activity set the stage for what was waiting for me up ahead. If I could go back in time to this particular juncture, I don't think I would be able to help chiding my younger self, "Now don't you wish you ate those vegetables and got that exercise when you were younger?"

When finally, I reached the school, it was almost noon. I tried to talk, really I did. But the principal could barely understand what I was saying between my heaving gasps. Out of kindness, she told me she prepared lunch, and maybe we should take a rest first and talk while eating. Talking, eating, at this point where not my top priority, because I could barely breathe. Out of politeness though, I agreed and sat down.

When she came back, she proudly presented her head teacher's specialty. Pinakbet. Full of strangely shaped vegetables some of which I do not even know the name. Without a sliver of pork or chicken or anything I call food. But culture dictates I eat, even just a bit. So I did. And it was the best thing I ever tasted. In. This. Life. The kind of delicious that makes your eyes roll up to the heavens in silent hallelujah. I was surprised out of my sweaty socks.

"It's the bagoong." the principal said. Bagoong, which I loved ever since.

I ate so much of it, they had to bring in another bowl of rice. The principal asked me how the food compares to the other pinakbets I have tasted before. I didn't want to tell them it was my first time. I don't want to be mistaken for a heathen. So I just replied, "The best so far." And I wasn't lying.

I went back to the hotel happy and with new-found respect for veggies. And just imagine my mother's delight when I started eating vegetables, little by little when I got back to Manila. I will probably never become a vegetarian, but we're friends now. These bitter, suspiciously leafy, green things and I.