The Road to Healing is Uncovering the Scars from Years Past…

“You were an abused child just like me!” Willie would tell me in one of our discussions.

“No, I was not! My parents did not constantly beat me.  I remember getting beat only twice and that was my fault so I deserved it…” I’d reply.

I never considered myself being abused as a child.  To me, abuse is being physically beaten whenever you make a mistake, do something wrong or say something bad.  I was disciplined and controlled simply by looks… My father was master at this.   Whenever I did something he did not approve, he would tilt his head and shot me a dark, fierce look – as dark as the heavy storm waiting to unleash its fury.  I wouldn’t dare cross those stares.  I wasn’t so sure whether I would come out alive if I dared to.  There were two occasions where I blindly crossed these boundaries.  I said blindly… because I sincerely did not  know what the repercussions were.

I was about 8 years old, left alone to care for my two younger sisters: Elsa, three years old and Ale two.  My parents and my two younger brothers were at the farm, 10 miles away… they left at sunrise that morning and are not expected to be home until early that evening.  At around 11 o’clock in the morning, an old lady acquaintance, I should call her Mrs. Teofilo came…

“Helllooo… ? Anybody home…? A cracking voice outside.

I ran to the door…and stared at the lady… eying her from head to toe.  I saw her before.  She’s from the barrio.

“Is your mom and dad home?” said the old lady, while looking at me.

“No.  They’re away.  They’re at the farm.” I replied.

“What time are they going to be home?” asking me as if she has something urgent to discuss with my father and mother.

“I don’t know.  They usually come home before dark… but, I’d go get them if you watch my little sisters….” I told the old lady.

She sat down by the door, on the bamboo floor and look me straight in the eye… her dark eyes fixed on mine.  She looked around the room and fixed her eyes on my sisters, who were both on the floor playing… she said…

“OK… I’ll watch your sisters while you go get your mom and dad” the old lady assured me.

“OK.” I answered without hesitation and much thought.

I left with much gusto.  I ran across the shallow river… Walked up the hill… hopped and skipped along the way… kicked a few rocks ‘till I reached the farm…

My mom was cooking something for lunch when I announced my presence…

“Nanay! whew… I’m tired. What ya cookin’…? Looking to see what’s in the pot…

Nanay shot me a quizzical and confused look.  “Where are your sisters?” she asked worriedly.

“Ummm… there’s Mrs. Teofilo at the house and she wants to talk to you and dad…” I managed to say while catching my breath.

“You mean, you left Elsa and Ale with a stranger!!!?” My dad came out of nowhere, yelling.

“Well… we know her, Mrs. Teofilo… she’s from the barrio. And she wants to talk to you and mom…” I answered nervously.  By the sound of my dad’s voice I know I was in BIG trouble.

“Stop what you’re doing Vicenta! Jojo! Artem! Get your stop and carry a few bunches of firewood.  We need to go right now!…  Let’s go…!!!”

My dad lead the way… He walked real fast and so were almost running just to keep up with him.  He did not say another word.

My mom was behind me and she kept talking:

“Tessie… why did you leave your little sisters?  What if that old lady takes them away…? What if she gives them to the people that drive the windowless white van… and dump ‘em under the San Juanico Bridge? Why did you left them?”

“But mom… Mrs. Teofilo said she’ll watch them.  She said it’s OK…” I tried to reassure her.

“You know… your dad is very angry right now.  I don’t know what he’s going to do…”

I didn’t say another word.  I kept walking and thinking what’s going to happen to me.  I was trying to guess what my dad is going to do to me.  Is he going to chop me into pieces with his long knife…? Is he going to kill me…?  Or is he just going to spank me… ? I don’t remember getting physically punished before.  I got yelled at.  And I’ve been scared and would shiver in fear whenever he got drunk…

I admitted to myself that what I had done was bad.  My mom was right.  I shouldn’t have left my sisters with that old lady.  But I really wanted to go to the farm.  I always hated being left alone at the house with my little sisters.  We had no neighbors.  The closest barrio is 20 miles away.  I was very scared whenever I was left home.  I’d start crying along with my little sisters when darkness starts to creep in and my parents are still nowhere in sight.  I sometimes wonder if they’re ever going to come back.  What if they don’t come back?  What’s going to happen to me and my little sisters?  It’s already night time… What if there’s a witch out there…? Whoa-hoo-hoo-hoo. We’d cried in chorus.  We’d huddled in the corner and cried… until our parents came home that evening…

Finally we arrived home.

Thank god that old lady did not take my little sisters.  She, the old lady was still sitting in the same spot – by the door, when we got back.

My dad went over to talk to her.  I don’t remember what they talked about.  But she left half and hour later.  And right when she left, my dad pulled a ten foot rattan stick and started peeling the shiny outer skin off it and told told me to go fetch some water.

I did.  The stream was about half a mile away.  I took two plastic gallons and filled them with water.  When I got back, my dad was braiding a five foot whip out of the rattan he had pulled.  I knew what the whip was for.  So I asked my mom what should I do…?

“You do nothing.  You sit there until you father talks to you…” mom advised.

When my dad finished with the rattan whip… he motioned for me to come to him. “On the floor!  Lay down on your stomach… arms on the side!”

I nervously obliged.  I was wearing a short cotton dress that day and my bare legs were exposed… perfect for the rattan whip –  half inch thick and five foot long with a solid five inch handle.

I did something very bad – leaving my little sisters with that old lady and my dad wanted to teach me a lesson – to never ever do it again…

“YOU DON’T… EVER… leave your little sisters…” Weeepppoww!  As he delivered the hardest blow unto my legs with the whip.

“NEVER… EVER… leave your little sisters…” Weeepppoww!  Another blow…

He whipped my legs five more times, while I kept my face down on the  floor.  When he landed his 7th lashing… I took a quick glimpsed at my legs and saw tiny lines of blood dripping from each lashes.  There was not a drop of tear in my eyes when I looked up at my father.  He looked at me with dark, turbulent eyes… piercing through mine…

Because I did not cry… to him… this was a sign of defiance.  NO… NO… NO… He can’t have a defiant daughter!  I must break… I must submit.

He took a step towards his very sharp, well tended long knife… but before he could pull it out of its wooden case, my mom jumped him…

“Please… Felix… DON’T!”

“She is just a little girl… PLEASE… PLEASE…” My mom was crying and begging for my life…

This was my first and worst physical punishment that I can vividly remember.

The second time I was physically punished was when I accidentally dropped and broke a glass bottle that held one of the stones that was part of a series of his “medicine water bottles.”  In a swift response, he delivered a forceful fist unto the back of my head… in front of several  people.  This time I was 10.  I was ashamed and humiliated… which was more painful than the pain I felt in my head…

My half older brother got it far worst that I did…

My mom had two sons with her first husband.  The youngest one died and so she had an eight year old boy when she met my dad.  His name is Benny.  Mano Benny (older brother), I called him.  I remembered when he was 13 years old and started to get beat… a lot.

My dad would order him to take the water buffalo down the water hole so it could drink some water.  But he wouldn’t do it right away.  He gets sidetracked with his friends playing with elastic rubber bands called “pinetek.”  A game where two or three boys agree to bundle equal amounts of elastic rubber bands.  And then each one would take turn in flicking the bundled rubber bands with their index finger, until one by one a rubber band would come loose.  Mano Benny was so enamored with this game that he’d completely forget what dad had told him to do… or maybe he just decided to have fun first and then work later…

Two hours would pass by and my dad would come looking for him, wondering why he hasn’t come home… And the he’d catch him… Not only he hadn’t done what he was told to do… but he’d be occupied with other boys playing games.

So… my dad would drag him home.   He’d tie his feet together with a 10foot rope; tie the rope up on the tree in front of our house, leaving Mano Benny’s body hanging upside down.   While hanging upside down… my dad would punch him several times in the stomach… He’d cry and beg.  “Please dad… I’m sorry.  I won’t do it again… Please… I’ll do what you want me to
do…”

Mano Benny would be good for a whole week.  Before he repeats the same infraction again… and again… and again.  And he’d get beaten the same way, again… and again… and again…

As a little girl… I never understood why he never learned a lesson.  I’d watch him get hanged upside down and beaten… and I’d felt sorry for him.  But what could I do?  Besides… I thought, he was being hard headed.  He did not do what he was told to do, that is why my daddy beat him.  I didn’t know how my mom felt about this… about her first born son getting severely beaten by her husband.  But I did not see her stop my dad.  And I think I know why.  She believed that it was my dad’s duty to discipline Mano Benny and her role is to support her husband and not contradict him.

We weren’t allowed to play when we were growing up, and that’s because there was plenty of things to do in the farm.  On weekends we went to the farm to sow corn, plant sweet potatoes, cassava, and other root crops.  During summer, we’d go up the mountain and make ‘copra’ or worked as hired “rice worker.” We had once planted rice in a muddy rice field, with mud rising up to our waistline.  We were all very young.  I was 11 while my younger brother was 10, and my cousins were 13 and and 11 whom my dad adopted.  Here in America… you call this child labor.  In the Philippines and in other third world countries, this is called survival.  We were obligated to work and bring some much-needed money for the family.

If you read the last three blogs I posted.  You learned how abusive my childhood was though I didn’t think it was… I loved my parents.  My dad is dead but my mom is still alive.  She’ll turn 71 years old in next month.  I don’t hold much resentments for my parents.   My true feelings are pity and sorrow.  I felt sorry for them.  I always say: it’s not their fault.  They didn’t know.  They tried their best in raising all of us… My dad was illiterate.  My mom only finished fifth grade, the most educated in her family.   They were both raised in the same ignorance and abusive environment…

For almost 40 years… I was in denial.  I will never admit to being abused as a child.  I didn’t think I was abused.  At least not regularly, physically.  That’s just how life was.  We were poor and poor people do all sorts of damn, stupid things.  But abuse, I later find out, not only comes in the form of physical but also psychological and emotional and this type of abuse far worst than the physical… It permeates into the far reaches of our minds and soul…

~~~

Chicken Soup For the Wounded Soul

Cooked Chicken and Stock:

2 large chicken breasts – with skin and bones

3 medium size carrots – cut into 2 inch chunks

3 ribs celery – cut into 2 inch chunks

3 large jalapeno peppers – stems removed and cut in half – crosswise

1 medium onion – outer skin peeled and cut into quarters

Half a garlic head – cut in half, crosswise

3 stems fresh parsley

1 teaspoon whole black pepper corns

1 bay leaf

1 tablespoon coarse Celtic sea salt

6 cups filtered water

Wash chicken breast under cold running water and place in a large pot.

Wash all vegetables and cut as directed above and add to the pot.  Add black pepper corns, bay leaf and sea salt.  Add six cups filtered water or enough to cover the chicken and vegetables.  Bring the chicken to a boil over medium heat.  Reduce and simmer for 45 minutes.

Remove chicken and cool.  Removed the skin and tear chicken meat off the bones.  Discard the bones.  Tear chicken into bite chunks.  Set aside.

Strain the broth and discard the vegetables.  Place the broth in a large clean pot and make the soup below.

The Soup:

Chicken Broth (from above) – six cups or more

Cooked chicken chunks – to be added last

1½ cups small macaroni noodles

3 medium size carrots – peeled and sliced into thin rounds

3 celery ribs – sliced into thin round

1½ cups fresh or frozen cut green beans

¼ – 1/2  tsp. freshly ground black pepper

¼ – 1/2 ground hot pepper – optional

½ – 1 tsp. Celtic sea salt or to taste

Bring the chicken broth to a boil.  Add the macaroni noodles, carrots, celery and green vegetables.  Reduce and simmer until noodles and vegetables are cooked and tender, about 12 – 15 minutes.  Add ground black and hot pepper.  Taste if additional sea salt is needed.

Divide chicken chunks into four to six portions and place them in individual soup bowls.  Scope the soup over the chicken.  Serve hot.

NOTE: I do not like overcooked chicken in my soup and that is why I do not boil it in the pot along with the noodles and vegetables.  Instead I place enough chicken chunks in a soup bowl and add the soup and then serve.  This soup has a clean, refreshing taste to it.  Perfect to eat for lunch or dinner.  I even eat it for breakfast.

SHORT CUT: If you are short on time, you could just buy a canned or boxed chicken broth or stock instead of making your own as I have shown above.  And you could also buy a whole roasted chicken at the grocery store.  And then make the soup as directed on the recipe.

Enjoy and Happy Cooking!

Tess

AVOID Pain and Frustrations and SAVE $$$ Next Time You Move

I can’t live in one place for too long. My limit is six years living in the same place. After that, I get bored. I yearn for change. The nomad in me wants to move, she gets restless; she wants to be on the road, to another city, another state, another place…

Moving is in my blood. I was born a nomad, always moving, from one unfinished nipa hut to the next; from one barrio to another; from one island to another. By the time I was six, we have moved more than 6 times.

The fifth house we lived in was by the seashore. A house my dad built but never finished as he has repeatedly done all his life. But this house was different. It was bigger and better than any other house we’ve had before. It had wooden floor instead of bamboo like we’ve always had. I was very young then, not even in school yet. I remember waking up in the morning and running on the white sandy shore, blanketed with fire red crabs. I would run after them, but the crabs were a little too fast for my little feet. Just when I was closing in on them, they would run back to their little dug holes and hide.

And then one afternoon, in this same house, I woke up from my nap, my clothes soaking wet, like I had just bathed in the sea. I bolted onto my feet screaming, calling my mom: “Nay… Nay… Nay! (mom), waah-whooaah…waahh… Naaaahnaaay!” I stopped crying, and slowly opened my tear filled, swollen eyes. I looked around but no one answered. The floor was covered with water five inches deep. Everything in the house was floating: clothes, pillows, plates, pots and pans. I ran and looked out the window; our chickens were quacking while floating on the water. The pigs were floating too! The dog was standing on top of a wooden plank, quietly observing the commotion between the chickens and the pigs. The tide was high that day and our house wasn’t built high enough above the ground to sustain the high tide. While I was asleep, my mom thought it was a perfect time for her to run up the hill to collect some sweet potatoes we were having for dinner that night. I was scared and didn’t know what to do. I stood by the window frozen, and motionless… wondering where everyone had gone…

After this incident, we moved again.

We moved inland into another nipa hut, only a stone throw away from my maternal aunt and grandparents’ huts. We did not live here long. We had to move again. And here’s why:

One day my dad came home, from a plowing job where he was offered coconut wine (tuba), which he happily accepted and drank. And when he’s drank, bad things happened. He was half a mile away from our nipa hut, already we could hear him belching out screams, the same loud, animalistic scream that he does when he is pissed off. He has had enough of my grampa and gramma’s insult, and this day seems to be the perfect day to let them know his feelings. As he was closing into my grandparents’ house, he pulled out his long knife and started striking, cutting and slicing everything on his path. He was only 10 feet from my grandparents’ porch, after he had cut all the banana trees in the front yard, when grampa and gramma jumped out the window, rolled down the green grassy hill to escape my dad and ran to the Barangay Captain 5 miles away.

Few days later, he was tipped off by a friend that several police men are on their way to arrest him. So he hid in the cave all day, and that night he boarded a small motor boat and escaped to Leyte. Few years later, my grandparents dropped the charges against him and they moved to Mindanao.

It would be three months before we join him. During this time, he’s been living with his relatives, moving from one relative to the next. When we came, my dad wasn’t ready for us. His uncle gave him permission to cultivate and live in his land up in the mountains, very far away from the barrio. It would take us from sunrise ’til sundown, by foot, to get there. We lived here a few years before my dad decided that we need to live closer to the barrio so my brother and I could go to school. And so we moved again, and again, and again. From when I attended first grade up until I graduated sixth grade, we have moved five more times.

For most people, moving is a dreadful thing to do. And YES, there are things involve in moving that is not fun – like packing all your household goods and belongings, and then unpacking when you get to your new place. And between all the packing, shipping, and unpacking, your things will get broken. Of course when I was a little girl, we didn’t own much of anything other than a few old clothes which we rolled and tuck into the rice sack and off we went. So moving was effortless. But when I met my husband, an American, he had already accumulated things, and accumulated more things once we were married. By then, moving then became a bit of a task. The furniture we had custom made lasted 17 years, some didn’t even last that long. We learned not to become emotionally attached to our possessions. Because these things come and go.

Each time we moved, we filled a Goodwill truck with books, furniture, clothes, and everything else that seem too bulky to take with us. (My husband is a firm believer of donating to Goodwill or Salvation Army. He believes that the universe will bless him many times over more than what he gives.) When we decided to leave Las Vegas, we had a beautiful, black old Mercedes Benz we gave away to a guy who worked as a mechanic at car shop. His family could use an extra car, and it was far too expensive for us to ship it, and even more expensive to maintain it.

YES, moving is a BIG decision and not an easy thing to do for most people. It’s even more daunting if you have to pay for the move because it is expensive and you are more likely to get ripped off. Like what happened to us when we moved from Las Vegas to South Carolina six years ago.

This was our first move on our own, without the military; therefore, we had to pay. So I shopped around for a moving company we can afford. I found one called Nationwide Moving Company. Their price was several hundred dollars less than the other, more nationally known company, so we decided to hire them. BIG MISTAKE! Lesson #1: Trying to save a buck could cost a lot more money in the long run and a lot more headaches than necessary. It’s better to pay extra if it meant dealing with a more recognized, and more reliable moving company. The key is to ask for references – people who have used them before and find out what they have to say. Another thing to do is research the internet for customer reviews. Back then, internet reviews weren’t as readily available as they are today. You have to invest a lot of time in research.

I sometimes wonder… that maybe it was just because our move got complicated. Our household goods were scheduled to be shipped and delivered to South Carolina, but things did not work out for us in there. In a short turn around, we had to move to Texas. So we had our household goods diverted – shipped and delivered to Texas. This is where the problem came in. Lesson #2: Do not rush into shipping your household goods to your destination. Instead, rent a storage space to store them. You can always get them later once you are stable and firmly rooted in your new location. Nationwide, the moving company, charged us few thousand dollars more to have our stuff delivered to Texas. I was confused and puzzled by this. Commonsense tells me, our household goods were still in Las Vegas, and Texas is several hundred miles closer to Las Vegas than to South Carolina. But Nationwide had the upper hand in this situation. If we weren’t willing to pay the additional money they demanded, they weren’t going to deliver our household goods. They had us by the neck; our stuff held hostage. We if we had to do the whole thing over, we would have just let them keep our stuff and started over. But there were a lot of things that were very sentimental to us. So we coughed up the money and paid. Lesson #3: Don’t let your emotions get in the way because it is going to cost you. Be ready to say: Fuck it and cut your losses while you’re ahead.

When my husband was in the military, the military paid for all the moving expenses, including our travel and temporary lodging. We didn’t have to worry about choosing a mover; the military took care of that. And then when he retired, we could choose a place – another city, or another state where we want to move and retire and the military would move us one last time… But life outside the military is different. Very different.

Years ago, I used to wonder why a lot of people move themselves. This was back when the military paid for our move. We’ll be on the road driving to another state, our new military base, and we’d see people driving huge U-Haul or Penske trucks, sometimes, towing a car in the back. Or the wife drives the family car and follows the husband. We’d say to ourselves: Why can’t this people just hire a mover and ship their household goods? It’s certainly much easier to just drive to your destination, in your car. And when you reached your destination, your new home, your stuff would be there waiting for you, instead of going through all this trouble driving a big U-Haul or Penske truck. Well… now we certainly know why. At minimum, it is $3,000 – $5,000 difference on your pocket, maybe more. And if you move yourself, at least you are guaranteed to have your household goods, in fair shape, when you get to your destination. So moving in a U-Haul or Penske truck with our household goods is now our preferred method. And this is even more so if you have a limited moving expense budget, and cannot afford to ‘pay an arm and a leg’ to the unscrupulous, shadowy moving companies. It’s cheaper and fewer headaches.

Despite of all these factors… moving can be a life changing event. It takes you out of your rut and of stagnation.

~~~

From all the moving we’ve done throughout the years, we learned plenty of valuable lessons that could save you money, headaches and pain. Learn from our mistakes.  Consider these things before you move:

• Research a place, a city, or a state where you are more likely to find a job. The bigger the city the better.

When we were in Las Vegas, a city with over 1.8 million populations, we had a dream of living in a small town. Thinking that living in small town would be so much cheaper and better. WRONG!
We discovered this by living in Abilene, Texas, a city with population just a little over 120,000. The housing – single family homes and apartments are expensive, and not much to choose from. Restaurant prices are no cheaper if not more expensive than the ones located in major cities. Though we found that one of the reasons why small town like this is expensive is because of the military base present here. The businesses – real estate developers and apartment owners knows that the military personnel receive a monthly housing allowance of between $771 – $1,134 depending on rank, for enlisted without dependents (no wife and children), and significantly more – $1,005 – $1,485 if you are married with with children; even more – $946 – $1,824 per month if you are a commissioned officer. So the housing and apartment rental rates in this town are based on these allowances. If you are not in the military and are living in a small town like Abilene, you are pretty much resigned to living in poor areas with the only housing you can afford. My advice? Do not live in a small town with military base. You are better off living in a big city with more job opportunities. Don’t feel like you are stuck. MOVE!

• If possible, it would be very beneficial to visit and survey the city a few months ahead before your pending move. This is called “reconnaissance mission” in the military. While there, make note of important information i.e., nice and safe temporary housing or extended stay hotels and suites, proximity to major interstate highways, parks, shopping center, etc. Anything that will make yours and your family’s life a little easier and convenient in a new city. If you don’t have the time and money to visit the place in advance, it’s OK. Just make sure you do as much research about the place before you move. You can do the rest once you get there.

• Assess your resources. How much money – cash in hand or in the bank do you currently have? What’s your available credit limit? With the money you currently have, how long can you survive with that money before you need to have money to start coming in? Meaning. how long can you afford to not have a job?  With the advent of online banking, where you can access your money virtually anywhere, anyplace and anytime, people can now live anywhere in the United States or any country in the world for that matter.

• How are you going to move? If you’ve sold most of your belongings i.e., extra car, furniture, and other household items, then there’s not that much to take with you. You could just rent a U-Haul and fill it with what you’ve decided keep and your most valuable possessions. Tow your car in the back if you have to. If you are married and have kids, and you own two vehicles, you’re wife can drive the other car with your children aboard. If you are single and moving alone then you have less to worry about.

• Decide where you are going to stay. If you are new to a city, your best bet would be to find an extended stay hotel with full kitchen. There are plenty out there to choose from: Homewood Suites, Candlewood Suites, Residence Inn by Marriott, Budget Suites of America, Homestead Suites, Extended Stay Hotels and Suites, and etc. The whole point of this is to find a place where you can settle temporarily, while you are looking for a job and getting to know the city. So that when you do find a job, you can then find an ideal place for you and your family. I would not buy a house right away. Staying in an apartment with a 3 – 6 six month lease keeps you mobile in case your new job doesn’t work out and you have to move someplace else.

Depending on what city you are moving into, most extended stay hotels will allow you to pay affront, for the whole month, to avoid paying taxes which can range between 12 – 16% or more. But I would suggest paying weekly during the first week or two so you can move to another hotel if you are not happy. And if you are happy with the hotel, you can always ask for their monthly rate. Though keep in mind that once you pay upfront, most extended stay hotels may not be willing to refund your money if you decide to check out sooner.

With extended stay hotels and suites, all utilities are covered. They may charge a small one-time fee to use the internet. Housekeeping may or may not be included; in some cases the hotel will charge you a small amount for a full housekeeping service once a week. Most extended stay hotels and suites have full kitchen with full refrigerator, stove with four burners and ovens (in some places), microwave ovens, kitchen utensils such as pots and pans, plates, forks and spoons, etc. They also have on-site coin laundry. I don’t like to their towels. So I bring my own. NOTE: Be sure to ask if you could see the room before you pay. And check for the items listed above. You do not want to get stuck in a place you don’t like for a whole month.

Before you start searching for an apartment, make a checklist of what’s important to you and your family. For me my checklist usually looks like this:

Kitchen:
• 2 large, deep sinks
• Plenty of cabinet space
• Plenty of counter space
• Good ventilation
• Good oven and stove – not old and rusty
• Good dishwasher

Bathroom:
• Large tub OR strong, good flowing shower
• Large counter space
• Good amount of drawers and cabinets
• Full size toilet – enough room around it
• Good sink and faucet

Laundry:
• Full size washer and dryer connection
• Linen/towel closet

Apartment MUST have good reviews:
1. Good, responsive maintenance
2. Friendly staff
3. Safe environment – Low crime area – In addition to seeing the apartment complex during the day, it is also best to drive by at night to see what type activities going on in the area.
Covered parking and plenty of parking space
4. The newer the apartment, the better.  Apartments must not be older than 15 years! Old apartments mean somethings are going to break more often than not. And unless the apartment leasing employ a responsive efficient staff, it might be too much headache and frustration living here.  Also, old apartments are not energy efficient.  Which means your electric bill is going to be very expensive.

• While you are on temporary housing or living in an extended stay hotel, you could rent a storage space to store your belongings so you can return the U-Haul truck. Unless you’ve left them in storage back at your old hometown and would retrieve them later once you are settled.

• Make sure your computer and printer are easily accessible. You are going to need these equipments while you are staying in an extended stay hotel. In addition to updating your resume, writing thank you and follow up letters, it is much easier to get around if you have a printed map of the local places you need to go such as banks, grocery stores, public parks and recreation areas , etc. Getting maps and detailed directions to local places are readily available from Google Maps.

• Have computer games or PlayStation game console and games, and extra monitor available for your kids to play with. This should keep them entertained and busy so they won’t be bored out of their minds.

• Bring several interesting books for you, your spouse and your children to read.

• Bring plenty of bath and kitchen towels. I do not like the towels in some of these hotels so I bring enough for the whole family.

• Two weeks before you move, fill out a change of address form at the U.S. Post Office. And then rent a mailbox at Mail Boxes Etc. or UPS Stores and have your mail sent here. For additional fees, Mail Box Etc. (MBE) can hold and forward your mail and packages wherever you are. So this way you don’t ever have to ask favors from your relatives and friends, and you’ll get your mail.

Below is a list of food items to buy and cook when you are on a budget:

• rice – white or brown rice. I like to cook my rice the old fashioned way, and I prefer Jasmine rice.
• sardines
• ramen noodles (known to be staples for young adults who don’t have much money and who don’t know how to cook
• baked beans
• Campbell Chunky Stew and Soups
• canned chili
• canned fruit
• microwavable vegetables (Birdseye Steamfresh is good and in expensive
• frozen and microwavable beef and bean burritos
• bottled water (it’s cheaper to buy them by the case at Sam’s Club)
• Panda Express Chinese food – If I’m going to eat fast food, I would rather eat Panda Express. They are available in most big cities. You can have a good satisfying meal, with 2 entrees plus chowmein, fried rice or noodles for only $6.48

This is just a  list to get you going. You could add your favorite foods on this list.

~~~

I usually make this chili with my own blend of spices and seasoning. But when I’m with Ramon, I don’t have access to my varied spices that I have at home. So… I use the good ole McCormick chili seasoning mix. And then very recently, I have been serving my chili with Indian bread called Naan. A bread made from tandoori oven. It taste slightly sweet and chewy. I now prefer to eat my chili like this instead of eating it with corn tortilla chips. Again, I always cook a lot. So this recipe serves six people or more.

Hot Kickin’ Chili Too!

2 pounds ground beef – 96% lean
6 TBSPs. Olive oil – divided
5 garlic cloves – minced
1 large red or yellow onion – diced
3 large jalapeno peppers – seeded and chopped
2 packets McCormick Chili Seasoning Mix (I like the HOT one.)
2 tsps. dried oregano
½ tsp. ground black pepper
2 dried bay leaves
1/2 TBSP. coarse sea salt (adjust according to taste)
1 – 28 ounces can crushed tomatoes
2 – 15 ounces can dark red kidney beans – undrained
Juice of 1 large lime
½ cup firmly packed chopped cilantro
4 stalks green onions
Garnish: grated cheddar cheese and sour cream

Brown ground beef in 3 tablespoons olive in an 8 quart pot. Drain meat and set aside.

Using the same pot, heat the remaining 3 tablespoons olive oil and sauté onions until translucent. Stir the garlic and jalapeno peppers and sauté a few minutes.

Add ground beef into the sautéed onions, garlic and jalapeno mixture. Stir to blend. Add the two packets of chili seasoning mix, dried oregano, ground black pepper, and dried bay leaves. Stir to combine.

Add the crushed tomatoes, undrained kidney beans,and sea salt.

Stir and bring mixture to a boil over medium heat, while stirring occasionally to avoid scorching the bottom. Lower the heat and simmer chili for about 30 minutes, while stirring occasionally.

Taste for additional salt and black pepper.

Add chopped cilantro and chopped green onions a few minutes before serving.

Top each serving with grated cheddar cheese and sour cream if you like.

Serve chili with warm Naan bread or tortilla corn chips and Fritos corn scoops or chips on the side.

NOTE: Follow the heating instruction on the package for Naan bread. Naan bread is available at Wal-Mart in their bakery section, and in other supermarkets.  It cost $2.50 per pack at Wal-Mart and slightly more at other supermarkets.

There are 2 pieces of Naan bread in each pack.  Allow 1 – 2 breads per person.

Enjoy and Happy Cooking!

Tess

The Journey Home

“Salmons’ sense of smell is far superior to humans, in that they always go back to their natal stream – the same exact place where they were born to spawn and die.  There’s only one salmon specie that do not die after spawning, and that is the Atlantic salmon.  After spending almost 8 years out in the Atlantic Ocean, Atlantic salmon does all sorts of acrobatic leaps, and swims with great strength against strong currents to go back to that special place where they were born.  And then after laying their roe, they cover it up with gravel, and swim back down the stream and rivers to the open seas.  Though only a few of them go back to their natal stream for the second time to spawn again, because going up and down that stream for hundreds of miles, and in some cases close to two thousand miles, take a great toll on their bodies.

Wow!

What an amazing thing to do for a fish.  They know exactly what their purpose is. And that is to preserve their species.” This was part of what I had written during the past few days.  But I couldn’t quite put this writing into a cohesive piece that means something, something that I could tie in with my life and my past experiences.  The only memory of salmon that I could recall is that, growing up we eat canned salmon when no fresh fish was to be had.  When, during the typhoon season, the sea is turbulent that no fisherman is fool enough dare to fish.  And the other times we eat salmon is if somebody, a relative died, and the family of the dead has to feed a large number of people – relatives, friends and neighbors, with very little money they had; a can or two of sautéed salmon in garlic and onions, and tiny strings of wheat noodles called misua (mis – wah) doused with large amount of water to create ‘salmon noodle soup.’ This would be enough to feed 20 to 30 people.  As a kid I was right there with the adults, bowl in hand with rice, topped with ‘salmon noodle soup.’  If my mother happened to be the cook that day, my brothers and I were the first ones to eat in the corner, hidden behind a curtain, so nobody would see us.  As I got older, I started disliking the taste of canned salmon because some adults would joke how “those weren’t salmon.  They’re python.  Just look at how they’re shaped – round and bony!” they’d say.  So from then on, whenever we had canned salmon, I’d think about it being a python – a snake! And I’d start gagging.  What a horrible thing to inflect on a child.  Adults can be very mean at times.  Back in those days, I was just a little girl and didn’t know any better.  I really thought that was true.  And to this day, when I see a can of salmon – I’d think “hmmm, could that really be a snake?” which is silly because I know they’re not.  Imagine how much more of a hassle to can a snake? I’d be too much hassle.  It would be far easier to can salmon – real salmon.

It wasn’t until I came to America that I started eating salmon again.  Not canned salmon though, fresh or frozen salmon.  Though, a few times, when my husband made fried salmon patties – a favorite dish his dad used to make when he was a young boy.  I tried.  I tasted it.  I didn’t like it.  I didn’t like the taste of pink salmon, I never do.  I don’t like the taste of any other salmon, other than Atlantic salmon.  And I kept wondering why.  Then I started reading up on salmon.  I found that of all the salmons – the six varieties of Pacific salmon:  Cherry, Chinook or king, Coho, pink or humpback, and Chum, and Keta salmon, these salmons mature in salt water, in the open seas, but do not stay as long as the Atlantic salmon.  Atlantic salmon, however, spends most of its life on salt water, up to 8 years in the ocean.  So I’m thinking… this is why.  Maybe their longer stay in the ocean is the reason why I like the taste of Atlantic salmon.  It tastes similar to salt water fishes which I prefer to fresh water fishes.  I don’t care too much for fishes such as catfish, carp, milkfish and any other fish harvested from fresh water.   To me, they taste strange.  And I find them to have a more intense fishy taste, and sometimes they can taste muddy.  I know some of you would say: “Well, its fish! It should taste fishy!”  No, no. All fish do not taste the same.  Blue fin tuna is good.  Red snapper is good. Sword fish is good.  Usually, fish with firm flesh do not taste too fishy. And that’s maybe why I like Atlantic salmon more than any other type of salmons.  If I can’t have Atlantic salmon, I’d settle for a Chinook or king salmon, and that’s because it too, spend a long time in the sea.  The other type of pacific salmon?  Forget it.  I definitely do not like the taste of Coho, Keta and pink.

There are several issues with Atlantic salmon, especially the wild ones.  They are an endangered species here in the United States.  In Canada a person is limited to catching 7 Atlantic salmons per year.  Its also more expensive compared to the Pacific salmon.  Even farmed Atlantic salmon, which comprise 99% of the world fish market, are just as expensive, and may not be as healthy as we might have been lead to believe.  Farmed salmon, especially the ones coming from Chile, are feed with more antibiotics, than the ones farmed in Norway, according to one report.  I don’t recall eating the ones from Chile.  They sell them at Sam’s Club and I haven’t convinced myself to buy them.  I prefer the ones coming from Norway, especially the wild ones.  I don’t think I’ve found an equal.

As for cooking Atlantic salmon, I cook them simply.  I cook them pan fried with simple and spicy breading.  I love them baked with fresh rosemary and fresh citrus juices.  Also excellent grilled.  Here are a few of recipes I’ve developed for cooking salmon.  Each recipe serves four people.  Please cook according to how many people are dining.

Pan Fried Salmon with Simple Breading

4 Atlantic salmon fillets (boneless), about 8 ounces each

2 tsps. Kosher salt

1 tsp. fresh ground black pepper

¾ tsp. cayenne pepper

Seasoned flour – see below

½ cup extra light olive oil

Season salmon fillets with the kosher salt, ground black pepper, and cayenne on both sides.  Dredge with the seasoned flour.

Fry in hot extra light olive oil for 5 minutes on each side over medium heat.

Serve.

Seasoned Flour:

1 cup unbleached all purpose flour

2 tsp. kosher salt

1 tsp. black pepper

½ tsp. cayenne (optional or use less)

Look how beautiful these fillets are.  Light breading makes the salmon slightly crispy on the outside.

Pan Fried Salmon served with roasted vegetable medley

Citrus Rosemary Baked Atlantic Salmon

4 Atlantic salmon fillets, boneless – about 8 ounces each

Marinade:

Juices from 2 large limes

Juice from 1 large lemon

2 inch piece ginger – peeled and grated

2 sprigs fresh rosemary (about 1 TBSP.) – chopped

3 tsps. Old Bay Seasoning

1 tsp. cayenne

1 tsp. ground cumin

2 tsps. kosher salt

4 TBSPs. extra virgin olive oil

In a medium size bowl, combine marinade ingredients.  Stir until well incorporated and salt dissolves.

Place salmon fillets skin sides up, in a rectangular (10 x 15) glass baking dish.  Pour over the marinade.  Marinade salmon for at least 20 minutes but no longer than 45 minutes.

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Turn the salmon fillets skin sides down.  Bake salmon with its marinade, uncovered for 15 minutes at 400°F.  Spoon marinade over the salmon and bake for another 10 minutes.  (Keep an eye on the salmon; be sure the juices/marinade do not dry up.)

Remove salmon from the oven.  Cover with foil and rest 5 minutes before serving.

Serve the salmon with the remaining juices spooned on top of each filet.

Citrus Rosemary Baked Salmon. I’ve served this with garlic sautéed asparagus.  I’ve also used this for California sushi rolls.

Enjoy and Happy Cooking!

Tess