When Typhoons Gave Us Plenty of Guavas

CHILDREN today welcome typhoons because they would mean vacation from school, transport money saved or used to buy junk food, and plenty of time to watch TV.

It is certainly a different "normal" compared to when I was growing up and was a pupil at the Dupax Central Elementary School.

Back then, strong typhoons made me and my sisters happy because they gave us time to play with younger siblings all day and to catch up on reading the Bannawag.

Particularly in my case as the eldest, typhoons also provided a good excuse from not doing such chores as sweeping the yard, splitting firewood, watering the plants, and taking the goats to pasture.

One thing about typhoons that I cherished most as a kid, however, was that it meant plenty of creamy and steaming pising on the dining table.

Pising is Isinay term for what Tagalogs call ginataang bayabas. It simply consists of peeled and thinly sliced ripe guavas that are boiled in coconut milk and brown sugar.

Served hot, the pising is certainly a filling and nutritious dish fit for cold, windy and rainy days.

I'm not sure if other mothers in the neighborhood cooked it as a viand for their brood, but I guess Mama saw the practicality of the pising as food during typhoons.

Among the probable reasons why she resorted to that was the fact that our backyard used to have plenty of guava trees and a few coconut palms.

So what's the connect?

Well, it so happens that typhoons coincide with the time when guavas plenty of fruits. And when the rain-reinforced winds blow, they do us the service of bringing down lots of fully ripe guavas including those that escaped my guava-eating climbs or my sisters' su-it (fruit-picking pole).

Not only that. The shaking and twisting of trees by the typhoon would send down the fully mature coconuts, including ones that have para in them, which would be prize for whoever would do the honors of husking, splitting, then grating the nuts preparatory for cooking the guava into pising.