Travel Snapshot: Easter in the Philippines

Easter week, or Semana Santa, is one of the most important holidays in the Philippines.
Businesses shut down, workers return home for a visit, and many take part in processions, like this one,
photographed in Cebu City by D.C. Pelka. 

Worlds Within Worlds

By Supriya Savkoor

Just back from a weekend trip that was unexpectedly unique and  one I’m certain to remember for years to come.

My aunt, a self-published author visiting the States from India, invited me to join her at a conference in New Jersey this past weekend. She tempted me by saying she would be teaching a creative writing workshop for kids as well as speaking on an author panel to promote her book. Both events cinched the deal—I got myself registered, and we coordinated where to meet and where to stay.

But the weekend did not get off to a great start. It was a scorcher, first of all. I started my drive from Northern Virginia in 112-degree weather. What should have been a 3-hour drive turned into a more than 6-hour long haul. Along the way, the occasional broken-down car lined the shoulder of the highway. The temperature dropped steadily till after dark, my A/C finally started working. By the time the outside temp reached 92, it started to feel chilly inside the car. I was sleepy, trying to think about which of my previous vacations I could write about for today’s blog. Meanwhile, cars with clever vanity plates such as M3RLOT, BKEEPNG, HIP1 CHIK, and U R LVD, whizzed past me, making me wonder instead about the inner lives of their passengers and the more interesting stories they could tell rather than those of my old vacations.

I reached Edison late Friday night, and by Saturday morning, I found myself at the opening ceremony of the convention. You probably guessed I was attending a writers’ conference, but no. It was a conference dedicated to all things Konkani—Konkani being the linguistic and cultural group from which I hail, and which I’ve written about in this space often. Some 1,800 attendees registered, flying in from nearly every continent. The organizers billed it as the largest gathering of Konkanis outside India. I didn’t think they could surprise me, but the event was so beautifully organized, it left me, and countless others, in awe. In addition to amazing entertainment and delicious food, the convention was filled with presentations and workshops led by noted Konkani luminaries—film directors, actors, authors, philanthropists, musicians, even a famous Top Chef, who judged a terrific recipe contest. (I must get those fusion recipes for tamarind-braised ribs with kale, avocado smoothies, and jackfruit kebabs.) Another contest, Konkanis Got Talent, was filled with some really impressive talent, some of whom I feel certain to hear more about in the years to come.

Then there were the dozens and dozens of instances of running into friends and family I hadn’t seen in eons, in some cases up to 25 or 30 years. I even ran into a woman with whom I’d had a chance meeting on a train in India in the late ‘80s. (Definitely a story for another day!) There were so many such incidents, in fact, that the weekend left me in awe about … well, so many things. The power of culture and community, of course. The passage of time. The magic of coincidence. Different moments of my life remembered and appreciated. History, my own, and that of this group of diverse people from the world over.

The event’s chief guest was someone I hadn’t heard of before, but who brought the crowd to their feet with his inspiring opening speech. You can read about T.V. Mohandas Pai here, but in addition to all the other amazing things you might learn about him, consider this: He’s a top executive who voluntarily donates 40 percent of his salary to charity. What good is money if you can’t use it to help others, right? Filled me with pride.

I can’t quite remember the number he cited of how many Konkanis there are, something like 2.2 million or maybe it was 2.6 million. Either way, as he rightly noted, it’s hardly a blip when you consider the population of India as a whole is 1.2 billion. And again, it kind of got me thinking about those cars I’d passed on the drive up, wondering about the lives of people I haven’t met, all the untold stories waiting to unfold. Most folks I meet, even Indians, haven’t heard of Konkani, and yet here’s this rich, complex community, represented in nearly every country, every religion, every profession. Not exactly a hidden community but certainly a subculture of sorts. 

And yet someone passing the convention center might think what was going on inside was just another Indian festival in the New Jersey suburbs, right? Not hardly.

Off The Beaten Track: Happy New Year!

Photo by Algont

سال نو مبارك

 (sal-e no mobarak)

Guten Rutsch!

Feliz Año Nuevo!

Naye Varsh ki Shubh Kamnaye!

Buon Anno!

С Новым Годом!

(s novim godom)

გილოცავთ ახალ წელს

wan bun nyun yari

Supriya’s Favorite Things

Oh, this is HARD! Where to begin… J

In no particular order…

The holidays! Gosh, I luv this time of year. And this year in particular, because preceding Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s, there’s a whole slew of lovely Indian festivals, such as Navratri and Diwali, that we’ve just started celebrating, and in grand style too. It’s been non-stop partying this season, though we haven’t had a moment to catch our breath. As it should be, right?

My family, including my precious hubby, who at 11 p.m. is digging for material our nine-year-old daughter needs at school by 6 a.m. tomorrow. The brilliant witticisms said daughter comes up with at the tip of her tongue on an hourly basis. That she asked Santa if he was related to the tooth fairy. That she is my real-life Hugo Cabret, inventing and tinkering and making blueprints. And our other daughter, all of six, who when asked to put on her shoes before school, performs a rap song about “rules, rules, rules” that she makes up at the spur of the moment. Who, when brushing her teeth, hears music. Love them!

Books, lots of books. Being surrounded by books. Swimming in books. Having endless hours to read and soak up well-strung words and ideas that transport me to new places and perspectives. This month, Jo Nesbo, Miyuki Miyabe, Helen Simonson, and Tin Tin.

Food. Cooking for friends and family. Trying out new recipes. Learning something new about ourselves and other cultures through their cuisine. We’ll be entertaining this Thursday, which happens to be Shabeh Yalda. As maybe you did too, I learned about this ancient winter solstice celebration through Heidi, and I’m adopting it. I’m cooking our favorite Persian stew for dinner, then we’ll eat pomegranates and watermelon while reading poetry aloud around the fire. (Shhh, don’t tell our husbands the part about the poetry. It’ll send them running, even with the addition of fine wine.) We’ll read bits of the traditional Rumi and Hafiz, as well as some Shel Silverstein and possibly a little T.S. Eliot.

Being surrounded by good people. It took me time to recognize so many of them in my crowded life, but now that I have, I’m awed by my great fortune and will make sure to appreciate them all year round.

Writing. When it flows. Er, to be continued...

Meanwhile, we hope you're enjoying your favorite people and activities as well, now and into the new year. 

Happy holidays to one and all!

Thanksgiving Abroad

Edith McClintock is one of our new contributors to Novel Adventurers and will be blogging every other Thursday. She is a globe trekking author whose recent travels have taken her to Central Asia and the Middle East. You can read more about her travels at: A Wandering Tale.

I’ve only celebrated four Thanksgivings abroad—three in Suriname, and one in the Republic of Georgia. Most have been in the United States, where we travel cross-country on crowded flights to visit family, squabble, cook for days, and eat until we’re semi-catatonic.

In my immediate family, when we were young, we were always reminded that the Pilgrims eventually slaughtered their Native American friends, just as all those poor turkeys were being slaughtered across the country. Fun stuff when you’re ten. But eventually my family stopped arguing about Native Americans and began eating meat. The few holdouts were accommodated with an ever-rotating version of vegetarian Turkey. Thanksgiving became about visiting and appreciating family. Celebrating gratitude, not lingering anger. And drinking lots of wine.

Celebrating abroad is not so different, just minus the traditional family. In Suriname, the American Ambassador threw us Peace Corps volunteers a Thanksgiving pool party each year. We celebrated the old-fashioned way—turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie, and canon balls into the pool. Like in the US, it was a time to offer thanks for our two-years together, not to mention a free meal.

Last year, as a Peace Corps Response volunteer in Georgia, I celebrated, as one should, in excess—attending three Thanksgiving dinners. The first was a few weeks early since the volunteers were gathering for a training. Everyone contributed to the food and various preparation tasks, and the staff brought wine. The Ambassador came and over a hundred of us sat down together—at a very long table—then moved outside to mingle around a bonfire.

On the actual Thanksgiving weekend, I traveled to Borjomi, a small mountain town, where a friend threw a Thanksgiving dinner for her Georgian co-workers, combining traditional American Thanksgiving fare with a touch of Ukrainian from her own heritage.Her host family added Georgian dishes and brought out their homemade wine for hours of toasting our gratitude.

The following night, we celebrated again, this time with a blend of Peace Corps volunteers, American teachers, and Georgians. Our host was Chinese-American and added a specialty from his own family’s Thanksgiving dinner—delicious fried rice. The Georgians, of course, brought homemade wine.

Thanksgiving in Georgia was a time to feel nostalgic for my family and home, but also reminded me of the diversity of America, from the Native Americans, to the Pilgrims fleeing England, to every immigrant that’s arrived since. To all the world traditions we’ve blended into our celebrations.

I think it’s what Americans should remember this year, if only for one day. Not lingering anger over history. Not the divisive, angry politics currently polarizing the United States. Because while none of us celebrate it quite the same way, we can all be grateful, both here and abroad, for a few shared desires—peace, a good harvest, and friendship.

But not football. Football is boring.

A Favorite of the Pharaohs

As I write this, I’m preparing to drive 15 hours to Tennessee to a huge family gathering where, on Thanksgiving Day, we’ll mark the occasion by dining on both traditional American and Indian meals. But my mind right now is on my latest manuscript, set in Cairo, and the big spread of comfort foods Egyptians enjoy there every year. 

Not at Thanksgiving, mind you, but on a smaller scale, every evening during Ramadan with the iftar fast-breaking meal just after sunset, and especially on the final evening of Ramadan, with the traditional feast of the Eid ul-Fitr. Muslims the world over celebrate the end of Ramadan with the Eid dinner in celebratory fashion, surrounded by family and friends.

 

Each country has its own special dish (dishes, really) that you can count on to be served at either the iftar or especially on Eid. In Algeria, it’s harira, a lamb and chick pea stew simmered in tomatos and herbs, or lahm lhalou, a dish of lamb stewed in prunes. In Turkey, it might be kobete, a savory pie filled with chicken and buttery rice. In Iran, it could be aash, a hearty herb, bean, and rice-based soup. In South Asia, it might be rogan josh, a thick, dark Kashmiri stew often made with lamb or mutton; chicken jalfrezi, a colorful saute of onions and bell peppers; and maybe pakoras, an appetizer of deep-fried savory fritters. All over Southeast Asia, ketupat, a type of rice-filled dumplings, are enjoyed. In Saudi Arabia, it’s mofatah al-dajaj, an elaborate braised lamb dish garnished with sauteed sliced onions, almonds, and raisins.

 

In Egypt, as in most countries, Eid is marked by giving out sweets and taking small holidays, maybe to the beach or to visit family. Egyptians feast, party really, for three days. Families either buy and distribute kadk, a type of Middle Eastern sugar cookie, or make them together as a holiday tradition. 

 

The Egyptians usually break their fast by eating dates or a drink of qamar-eddeen, an apricot juice filled with bits of nut and fruit. The first dish is usually a lentil soup, and all over the table, you’ll find tiny bowls and plates of small savory treats, such as baba ganoush, pureed roasted eggplant with tahini and garlic, bowls of olives, and so on.

 

One small dish that is commonly seen on an Egyptian table during iftar, Eid, or even as a common breakfast item is ful medames, a thick, savory dish of slow-cooked fava beans seasoned with lemon, garlic, olive oil, and a few spices. It’s a simple comfort food that even the pharaohs once enjoyed.

Bon appetit, or as the Egyptians would say, bil hana wish shifa'!

 

Ful Medames (recipe borrowed from Epicurious.com):

Ingredients:

• 2 cups small Egyptian fava beans (ful medames), soaked overnight (and left unpeeled)
• Salt
• 1/3 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley
• Extra virgin olive oil
• 3 lemons, quartered
• Salt and pepper
• 4–6 cloves garlic, crushed
• Chili pepper flakes
• Cumin

Preparation: 

As the cooking time varies depending on the quality and age of the beans, it is good to cook them in advance and to reheat them when you are ready to serve. Cook the drained beans in a fresh portion of unsalted water in a large saucepan with the lid on until tender, adding water to keep them covered, and salt when the beans have softened. They take 2-2 1/2 hours of gentle simmering. When the beans are soft, let the liquid reduce. It is usual to take out a ladle or two of the beans and to mash them with some of the cooking liquid, then stir this back into the beans. This is to thicken the sauce.

Serve the beans in soup bowls sprinkled with chopped parsley and accompanied by lavash or pita bread.

Pass round the dressing ingredients for everyone to help themselves: a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil, the quartered lemons, salt and pepper, a little saucer with the crushed garlic, one with chili-pepper flakes, and one with ground cumin.

The beans are eaten gently crushed with the fork, so that they absorb the dressing.

Variations
• A traditional way of thickening the sauce is to throw a handful of red lentils (1/4 cup) into the water at the start of the cooking.

• In Iraq, large brown beans are used instead of the small Egyptian ones, in a dish called badkila, which is also sold for breakfast in the street.

Optional Garnishes

• Peel hard-boiled eggs—1 per person—to cut up in the bowl with the beans.
• Top the beans with a chopped cucumber-and-tomato salad and thinly sliced mild onions or scallions. Otherwise, pass round a good bunch of scallions and quartered tomatoes and cucumbers cut into sticks.
• Serve with tahina cream sauce or salad, with pickles and sliced onions soaked in vinegar for 30 minutes.
• Another way of serving ful medames is smothered in a garlicky tomato sauce.
• In Syria and Lebanon, they eat ful medames with yogurt or feta cheese, olives, and small cucumbers.