People of the rice

By Marifi Jara

My 63-year old dad is an archetype bitukang pinoy.

That simply means he does not feel full after a main meal without rice.

I myself who can go without rice for a day or two, feeling a bit homesick while in a foreign land once, cried and could only justify it by saying, “I miss rice.”

Our national language, true to being a tongue that reflects the soul of its people, actually captures our deep rice culture.

While the English language basically refers to rice as rice, we have a whole gamut of terms that encompass the many levels of our rice cycle, something that is crucial in translation endeavors.

We plant and harvest palay; the milled product is bigas, which is also what we boil into kanin. Fry the leftover rice the next morning and that would be sinangag (made more delicious with plenty of roasted garlic!). The soupy concoction is lugaw, which can either be plain, with boiled egg, with chicken to become arroz caldo, or with innards to become goto. I remember as a child that lugaw was to us what chicken soup is to the westerners – a comfort food for when not feeling 100 percent.  And for a long time, I thought that white lugaw was for when we were sick and yellow for normal conditions. It was only later on, when I started to venture into the kitchen, that I realized that the color difference was merely determined by the availability of the local herb called kasuha.

The list isn’t done yet: Add coconut milk and sugar to the malagkit rice variety and you get kakanin (with its variant terms like puto, biko, suman, etc., etc.). Or add cocoa powder and voila! — champorado on the table, which feels particularly delicious on rainy days.

We are undeniably a rice people.

Our Ifugao brethren, builders of the UNESCO World Heritage Site Banaue Rice Terraces (which, unfortunately, is now under very serious threat of extinction due in large part to the diaspora of the young generation), have a rice god known as bulol. Its wooden images, originally made through a deeply spiritual ritual before commercialization  forced mass production, is recognized worldwide as one of our most valuable forms of indigenous art.

Thoughts on rice comes to the fore at this point because of all the news about a supply shortage and, closer to home, how prices, my mom complains, have started  going  up at  ridiculous and  unjustified increases over the last two weeks.

A rice problem means holding hostage the Filipinos because it hits at the very core of who we are. It’s our staple, as basic as water and the air we breathe.

I certainly hope our agri officials’ assurances that there will be no shortage, in Pangasinan at the very least, is true, which means prices should remain stable.

Life has been so crazy and difficult enough for so many in the country. Let’s whisper a special little prayer to our respective gods, and why not throw some up too to the bulols.

(Readers may reach columnist at marifijara@gmail.com. For past columns, click http://sundaypunch.prepys.com/archives/category/opinion/roots/
For reactions to this column, click “Send MESSAGES, OPINIONS, COMMENTS” on default page.)

Share your Comments or Reactions

comments

Powered by Facebook Comments