I love green mangoes, but I can’t eat it without at least a pinch of sweet and spicy bagoong (shrimp paste) on top of a tangy slice. There are green mangoes that are already “on the verge†of becoming ripe—but I don’t like those. I think take they the “fun†out of eating a sour, green mango. Semi-ripe mangoes are already a bit sweet, and I don’t like that (but my sister does). For me, green mangoes are sour. And this sourness, coupled with the sweet and spiciness of the bagoong (I don’t like the salty bagoong on my green mangoes that much either), makes every bite worth the funny face you make every time you eat something so sour.
View my gallery for more photos. My dad took the shots that’s why he’s not in any of them.
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Last weekend, I went with my mom’s side of the family for a swimming outing in Pansol, Laguna. Marc couldn’t come with us (the unfortunate guy had a work shift), so it was basically just me, my parents, my sister, three aunts, an uncle, two cousins, two drivers, a maid and a cousin’s boyfriend. It was indeed a very intimate gathering.
You see, it’s been a long time since we had an outing like this. I think the last time was when my grandma was still alive. My mom had three brothers, each of them having two to four kids each—you can just imagine the fun when you have so many kids in one place swimming at the same time. My grandma would rent a private resort in Laguna (they weren’t too fond of beaches, it’s in our blood to painfully burn like toast when out in direct sunlight too long), and the entire clan would meet up in a gas station along the highway to travel as a convoy all the way to the resort. That was the time when mobile phones were just for businessmen and rich families in hilly villages, so you can just imagine how difficult the logistics was when one of us cousins needed to pee-pee along the way. Read more
