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My chronic lateness is a running joke with my Aussie friends. What they don’t seem to understand is that I regard the clock, with its authoritarian precision and merciless advance, as a mere guide to life rather than its master. » more
When I was pregnant with my first child, many women were quick to reassure me that labour will be just like a very bad stomach cramp. “And don’t worry,” they said, “you’ll forget the pain soon after.” I believed them. Three children later, I know for a fact that they lied. If there’s anything I’ve learned about having children, it’s that it hurts. A lot. » more
If there's one enduring symbol of Filipinos all over the world, it’s the balikbayan box. Whether we're travelling home or merely sending presents to relatives, packing these nondescript brown boxes has become a Christmas tradition for many expats.
I’m part of a silent minority of Filipinos who bear a secret shame: I can’t sing to save my life. From the age of six, I’ve envied Lea Salonga. She has two things I desperately want — dimples and a singing voice. Someone once told me I looked like “a Kim”. Too bad my singing voice is worse than grim. By Filipino standards, I believe this makes me a mutant.
In my family, cooking is a tradition. Everyone has a signature dish. My specialty was burning food. Once, I forgot I was boiling water and scorched the saucepan. » more
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